Benjamin Ashwood Box Set 2

by A. C. Cobble

  One by one, the elders murmured assent. They weren’t happy about it, Ben could see, but they couldn’t argue with the logic.

  “There is one more thing,” said the man slowly. Sorrow fell over him like a shadow. “It is time. We must close the rift.”

  No one spoke.

  “I will not force you,” whispered the elder, his voice barely audible in the silent room.

  Finally, one of the others spoke. “We hoped it would never arrive, but we knew this day was coming. We will do as you ask. We will help you close the rift.”

  The old man turned to Ben. “Go and rest. We must prepare. Tomorrow, you will come with us and assist. When the job is finished, no one will stop you from going on your way.”

  Ben swallowed, unsure of what he was agreeing to but happy they would be let go. “Ah, okay. We’ll do it.”

  The rest of the day, the village was a beehive of activity. The remaining warriors girded themselves for battle, the mages prepared whatever they felt necessary, but Ben and his friends were largely ignored.

  In the evening, Prem came and found them. “I’m guessing no one has fed you yet?” she asked.

  “We have some supplies left,” responded Amelie.

  “With what is coming tomorrow,” responded Prem, “you’ll need a hot meal. Come to my house. I will make something.”

  “Where is your father?” asked Ben.

  “He is with the elders,” answered Prem. She looked over her shoulder at the group. “They have much to discuss about tomorrow and what comes after.”

  “What will come after?” asked Amelie.

  “We do not know,” replied Prem.

  “I’ve been wondering,” said Ben. “Why does your father have to stay here to serve as a source of life for the elder? There are many people in this village. Can no one else do it?”

  The girl shook her head. “It requires a unique connection, like father and son.”

  “Ah,” remarked Ben.

  “Or grandfather and granddaughter?” asked Amelie.

  The girl smiled at her. “That could work as well, but my father would never allow it. Despite what it may seem to you, he has visions of me leaving here and starting a life and a family elsewhere. He wants me to leave someday, but I do not know if that will come to pass.” She waved her hands around the village. “As you can tell, there are few here in my generation, and it is rare that any fresh blood arrives. There are many amongst the guardians who have lost interest or the ability to have children. From what I have seen, the ones who could be interested in children are not interested in their neighbors in that way. Romance is one thing even the elders have not tried to impose on the rest of the guardians. Every moon, we lose more people at the rift, but there are no younglings to replace them. I’m the last living member of this village to be born here. I fear if I were to leave, then who will be left to carry on?”

  “Hold on,” interjected Ben. “You’ve never left this village?”

  “I’ve never left the forest,” admitted the girl. With a sigh, she continued, “Nearly one hundred years and I’ve always been the baby, the one they would not let out of their sight. My father insists I shall leave when the time is right, but where will I go? The City is the closest settlement to us. I am told it can be dangerous for our people.”

  She shrugged and then opened the door to her home. Ben met Amelie’s eyes as they stepped inside. One hundred years, the girl had said, and she was the youngest one.

  “Make yourselves comfortable,” continued Prem. “I have more of the wine if you like. I grow the grapes on the vines behind the house. My father and I are the only ones who drink it.”

  “That would be lovely,” murmured Amelie. Behind the girl’s back, she mouthed, ‘One hundred years’ to Ben.

  He nodded. The girl, if she could be called that, was five times older than him. She was older than his father, and his father, and probably his father.

  4

  Hold Back the Darkness

  Dawn rose on the village, and Ben and his friends joined Adrick and Prem in a stream of armed men and women heading toward the underground chamber that served as the hub of the node gates.

  “How do people pass through without being harmed?” asked Ben. “I thought that the energy given off by transporting through a rift would be fatal for a person.”

  “Traveling through a rift likely would be fatal to a person,” agreed Adrick. “I’ve never done it myself, of course. The nodes are similar but different. Instead of burrowing through the fabric of space, we are riding along top of it.”

  Ben frowned.

  “If that doesn’t make sense, you should hear the elder explain it,” muttered Adrick. “Think about it this way, there are established currents of energy constantly running through our world and what exists outside of our world. They are invisible, but they do exist. When using the node gates, we are slipping into the current of these streams and following them on their natural journey.”

  “Like a boat on a river,” suggested Amelie.

  Adrick smiled. “Yes, something like that. Riding the current is relatively safe if you are in a waterway that you are familiar with. The rifts are different, though. A rift does not follow a current of energy. It blazes its own trail. It tunnels through space, which is incredibly disruptive, and throws off massive amounts of violent power. Getting hit with that force would likely kill you, as you said.”

  “So, can these nodes be made to go anywhere?” asked Ben.

  “Thinking about saving yourself some walking once this is over?” asked Adrick.

  Ben shrugged.

  “In theory, the gateways could be opened in many places. The lines of power are everywhere, but they do not always intersect with where you would want to go. Our cavern is a hub, and many lines intersect there. That is why we built the village in this location. Away from a hub, a gate could be opened, but finding the proper direction would be difficult. There are some devices the First Mages created which we are able to link with our hub using the First Mage’s trapped energy, but we’ve lost the knowledge to create more of them.”

  “The real problem isn’t our convenience,” said Prem, who had come up behind them. “It is that the dark forces are able to use the rifts and the node gates. They’re more attuned to it than humans are. And worse, while a rift can be sealed, the node gates are merely entries into currents of power that exist outside of our influence. We can close the door, but beyond the door, the road is still there.”

  “But then a rift…” mumbled Ben, trying to understand.

  “A rift is like a hole in a wall. If it’s there, you could pass through, but when it’s not there, there is no hole, just wall. Nothing to even attempt entering.”

  They made it to the stairs that led down into the chamber and Adrick paused.

  “A few years ago, the fabric of space was shaken. Someone, somehow, was burrowing new rifts. We didn’t know it at the time, but we now suspect it was this offshoot of the Purple you told us about. It disrupted things, and we found it more and more difficult to close the node gates. To continue the door metaphor, because it’s the most logical way we can describe this, it was like the doorway shifted, and there is a gap now. The dark forces have been able to worm their way through that gap and make use of the node gates. They could travel anywhere in this forest and to some places outside in the blink of an eye.”

  Ben swallowed.

  “That,” finished Adrick, “is why we have to close the rift gate. We do not have the resources to keep the dark forces bottled up and also venture out into the broader world.”

  “Could the creatures appear elsewhere and use the node gates?” asked Ben as he followed Adrick down the stairs into the chamber.

  “Possibly,” confirmed Adrick, “but in a moment, you’ll see why we are particularly worried about this situation.”

  In the chamber, a steady stream of guardians was passing through an open node gate. Two-thirds of the population, Ben had heard. A minimal fo
rce was left behind in case anyone stumbled across the settlement, but they were anticipating all hands would be needed to close the rift once and for all.

  Ben stepped through the opening and gasped.

  They were standing on a stone stairway set high on a ridge. In front of them, a narrow valley extended a quarter league, forming a box canyon with steep, rock sides. A huge cliff rose to block the end, and at the base of the cliff, loomed the dark maw of a cave.

  “That’s the rift, in there,” said Prem.

  She started down the stairs, and Ben and his friends followed. At the base of the ridge was an encampment made up of half a dozen permanent structures and a dozen long tents. In front of the camp was a stout stone wall that spanned the width of the canyon. Three watchtowers anchored the wall, and above it on the ridge was another platform studded with compact siege weapons. They were small enough to have fit through the node gate, realized Ben. In the wall, there was no opening, no way to pass the barrier except climbing over it.

  “Damn,” whispered Rhys.

  Ben followed the rogue’s gaze beyond the fortifications and swallowed. The entire length of the valley was covered in debris. It was littered with the wreckage of war. Shattered weapons, armor, and bodies lay like a grisly carpet for a quarter league. The mud was dark, nearly black, stained with the blood of the fallen.

  “The mages send fire every few days along the length of the valley to burn the dead,” said Adrick grimly. “It keeps the smell and pestilence at bay. It’s not a good sign that so much filth is out there now. They’re saving their strength for combat.”

  “I’ve never seen anything like this,” murmured Towaal.

  Adrick chuckled mirthlessly. “This valley has been a battlefield off and on for the last seven hundred years. In the last three years, excursions from the dark forces have grown more common. In the last few months, it’s been every night. The demons are running out of doorways to use into our realm. Every night and into the morning, we stop them here. In the past, we could have months or even a year with no sightings of the dark ones, but now, the war is never-ending.”

  Ben grimaced, eyeing the torn earth and the heaps of the dead.

  “It’s everything we can do to maintain our line, to use our superior skill to turn back the tide of evil. With what you’ve told us, staying still is no longer enough. We hoped this was merely a bad run, and the pressure would ease. We know now that is not the case. Because this is one of the last open rifts, the pressure will never ease, until we close the rift.”

  They made it to the platform with the siege weaponry, and Ben eyed the catapults and ballistae there. There were well-made, well-used weapons of war. Stacks of ammunition lay behind them, and the half-dozen men and women minding the platform eyed the new arrivals grimly. They knew what it meant, Ben guessed, seeing the elders arrive in force. They knew the old man would only be there for one reason.

  “If you can close the rift,” asked Ben, “then why haven’t you done it already? Why fight this never-ending battle if you don’t have to?”

  “There is a cost to continuing the fight,” answered Adrick, “and there is a cost to stopping it. Closing the rift will not be cheap. It is the cost that the council has debated for the last three years, the sacrifice they will have to make that’s stopped them. They have debated it endlessly, but now, our hand is forced, and my father has made his decision. We cannot defend one of the last remaining rifts in Alcott.”

  “The cost?” asked Amelie.

  Adrick didn’t answer, but after a long moment of silence, Prem finally did. “Closing the rift will take incredible power. If done sloppily, it will cause a massive explosion. Containing the release will take everything the council has. To do it safely, they will have to do it from within.”

  “I… I don’t understand,” said Ben.

  “To close the rift,” explained Prem, “the council and most of our magic users must go inside, and they won’t be coming back out.”

  Ben and his friends followed Prem and found a relatively comfortable place in the encampment.

  “The elders will prepare the spell the rest of today and most of the night. When night falls, expect the dark ones to issue forth and attack. When the sun comes back up, hopefully, we have won. We’ll escort the mages to the cave in the light of morning. Once they enter, they’ll be on their own.”

  “We can rest until then?” asked Ben.

  “Rest until tonight,” advised Prem. “At night, you’ll need to be ready. You’ve faced the dark ones?”

  “We’ve faced plenty of demons before,” responded Ben, sitting down on a rickety camp chair.

  “Demons, goblins, and even wyverns have come through,” said Prem. “There’s no way to predict which of the creatures will arrive. We have no idea if they are sent or are merely in the area and are attracted to the life forces on this side of the rift. No one has been to the other side, of course, so no one knows what their society is like. If there is one.”

  Ben crashed to the floor, the camp chair collapsing underneath of him.

  “What was that you said?” squeaked Amelie.

  “We can’t predict—”

  “Wyverns!” exclaimed Ben from the floor.

  Even Rhys looked a little pale. He coughed nervously. “It did sound like you said wyverns. Goblins and wyverns. No one has seen goblins on Alcott in decades, and wyverns in, I don’t know, millennia…”

  The girl looked at them blankly. “Yes, wyverns. They are rare, but we do face them here. Small ones usually. This rift is natural, which, according to the mages, makes it easier for the dark forces to use. Wyverns and goblins, they only cross at natural openings. Demons, being lower species like animals, can cross through any opening.”

  Ben picked himself up slowly. His friends were left speechless.

  Prem, apparently taking their stunned silence as a lack of questions, stood and said, “I’m going to go find some friends that have been out here the last several weeks. I will be back before evening.”

  After she left, Rhys blurted, “Are you kidding me? What else do we need to show that this isn’t a good idea? When the sun goes down, instead of standing on that wall, we should be heading the other way!”

  Ben could only shake his head, still stunned.

  “Wyverns!” cried Rhys.

  “It’s too late to leave,” remarked Towaal, “but even if it wasn’t, getting these people’s help is worth whatever we have to go through tonight and tomorrow.”

  Rhys snorted incredulously.

  “Milo was a few days ahead of us,” reminded Towaal. “At our pace, we never would have caught him before he made it to the Sanctuary. With these nodes, we can pop out in front of him. It’s probably how Eldred made it to Akew Woods so far before us. There is still plenty of time to stop Milo if these people can help us find a gate near the City. Rhys, we can head him off and recover the staff before he meets the Veil.”

  Rhys opened his mouth to respond, but Towaal interjected. “Also, I saw what Adrick is capable of, and you told me about him sparring with Ben. That’s an ally we can’t afford to turn down if we want to face the demons, the Veil, Avril, the Alliance, and the Coalition. Rhys, whatever the risk, it’s worth it.”

  The rogue’s mouth snapped shut, and he crossed his arms across his chest. “Wyverns, Karina. She said there were wyverns.”

  The rest of the day passed in restless tension. Eventually, too nervous to sleep, Ben decided to explore the encampment and the walls. He took Amelie with him, but Rhys remained behind sulking. Towaal meandered further up the slope, planning to lurk around the mage’s tent and see if she could learn anything.

  Ben didn’t blame Rhys for being upset, but Towaal was right. No matter the risk, they had too much to gain from assisting Adrick and his people. A two-week jump on Milo and the guardian’s help recovering the staff. Without those advantages, the Veil would get the staff before them, and there was nothing they could do to prevent it.

  The others i
n the encampment and on the wall largely ignored them. Certainly, they knew who the strangers were, but Ben guessed since strangers were normally cut down before explaining themselves, no one considered it worth becoming friends.

  Finally, they saw Prem at the top of one of the watchtowers. She was leaning casually against the railing and gesturing at the war-torn field in front of her. She noticed Ben and Amelie and waved for them to come up.

  With nothing better to do, Ben ascended the narrow ladder into the wooden tower. It stood three stories above the field below and offered a slightly worse view of the landscape than the side of the hill near the node gate.

  “Frand, Ignice, meet Ben and Amelie,” said Prem.

  Ben nodded to the two men.

  They were wearing tightly woven chainmail shirts, conical helmets, and thick leather gauntlets studded with steel spikes. Two huge, kite-shaped shields rested against the wall next to bows and baskets full of arrows. One of the men had a massive two-handed sword next to him and a shorter sword at his hip. The other was resting his hands on a heavy-looking mace and carried two falchions on his back. Both men had a number of long daggers stuffed into their boots, hung on their belts, and a belt on the floor contained half-a-dozen knives that could be used for throwing.

  Ben self-consciously placed a hand on the hilt of his longsword.

  “Don’t worry,” grinned Prem. She tapped her long knives. “Frand and Ignice get a little nervous if they’re not carrying enough steel to start their own arms shop. I think all that steel must be compensating for something.”

  The two men grunted. They had identical cinnamon-colored beards and looked to be about the same build. Brothers, Ben was pretty sure.