Unleashed Fury (BloodRunes: Book 1)

by Laura R Cole

CHAPTER 31

  Layna and Gryffon rode into Dunlop just as the sun was hitting its peak in the sky. Charles had opted to camp outside the settlement, saying that he preferred the great outdoors in addition to his earlier statement of staying away from the evil of the place. Weylyn seemed to agree with this sentiment. He had kept pace with them for some time, but as the smoke from the chimneys came into view, he vanished into the wilderness.

  The golden rays of afternoon sunshine beat down on the city, and Layna could see that at one point it must have been quite a sight during the Dark King's era. Massive buildings towered over the countryside around it, and up on a hill in the distance an even larger ruin sat – the remnants of the Dark King's castle in the Shadowlands. The fortress now lay in shambles, with no one wanting to set foot in the dreaded place. It lay crumbling, prone to the ravages of time with no one to care for it. It was a shame that such an incredible artifice of history should be so left to the mercy of the elements. But then again, who wants to set foot in a place that had literally been built with blood? It stood on the outskirts of town, casting its shadow over the land. It was an eerie presence, a stoic reminder of its dark past. The town itself was in similar state, though much better cared for.

  After the Dark King's overthrow, Dunlop had found itself an abandoned city save for the few loyal locals who refused to leave their land no matter the blood that had been spilled upon it. A new capital had been named in Naoham, leaving the Shadowlands so renamed as a reminder to its past. Dunlop had eventually regained some of its former glory and several of the buildings had been refurbished to their original splendor. Most buildings save for the Dark Fortress itself had been gone through and either left for ruin or had been at least half-heartedly redone.

  The inn that they came to was one of the nicer buildings; the walls had been neatly replaced where they had been crumbling. The only evidence of this having been done was the slightly different coloration in a few areas, and it looked like new wood and windows had been put in. The sign had been scratched out and redone to display the new name of “The Phoenix”, which Layna thought was rather fitting given the rebirth of the town.

  Gryffon had explained to her on the way that Dunlop in its prime had been a flourishing city. Though technically the capital had been Cheston, the city where the Shadowlands now occupied, Dunlop was close enough that it had benefited from the old capital's wealth – which the Dark King had made even more lavish by spending exorbitant amounts of money to make impressive.

  So far they hadn't yet seen any wanted posters, but they still kept their eyes peeled for militia men who may be looking for them. It seemed as though they had once again beaten the word here. Their new disguises gave Layna some piece of mind as well. If there was someone lurking in the shadows looking for them, at least they'd see a dark-haired woman and her bearded companion instead of the blond girl and clean-shaven man they were sent to look for.

  They made their way inside the inn, and went through the bartering routine with the inn-keep for their rooms. Once they had settled themselves in, they made their way down to the common room. There, they struck up conversations in hopes that they would find someone willing to talk to them about the fortress and the rumored secret tomb. Gryffon had told her that the castle that they could see up on the hill was the old palace where the Dark King had held court during his reign. While this seemed bad enough to Layna, apparently there was another, secret fortress somewhere hidden underground nearby where a lot of the nastier events had taken place. This secret locale was also rumored to be the Dark King's final resting place after the Bloodguard moved his remains.

  They had no luck the first few days, as the people in town seemed wary of them. They got quite a few nasty looks and criticizing comments at their guise as treasure-seekers. On the third day, an older man came into the tavern shortly after them. He slowly shuffled to the bar next to them, picking his way deliberately across the floor. He pulled himself up onto the stool with difficultly, but waved away Gryffon's offer of help.

  “Thanks, laddy, but if I can't pull myself up onto the stool then I shouldn't be in here anymore, and the draw of the ale is just too much for me to deny.” He gave them a one-toothed grin and called out to the barmaid that he would have the usual.

  Gryffon started up some small talk with the man, even buying him a drink, and slowly led the conversation around to the ruins. “What do you know about the ruins up there?” Gryffon asked, “We've heard that there's treasure there.”

  “Don't you go looking for treasure there, boy, the only treasure you'll find is the kind that will poison your lives. That's if you even made it in and out in one piece. There have been plenty who've tried, oh yes. I've seen your kind before, all young and on top of the world, thinking that nothing can hurt them. Despite all the other people who have tried and failed, they think their ideas are going to get them in. But you listen closely, ain't nobody gonna get into those tombs, they were sealed up good and tight they were, and made sure that no one'd ever set foot inside alive again. They say the Dark King is buried there and his spirit haunts the hallways. No, no, no just stay away from there. Nothing but bad news, and I like you.” The man gave Gryffon a friendly jab in the shoulder. Unfortunately, it was with the hand that held his mug of ale, and he splashed it all over Gryffon, who smothered a laugh. The old man didn't seem to notice. “There's weird stuff that went on up there for sure. Lots of strange markings on the walls, old runes if you ask me. Bloodrunes. You don't want anything to do with blood-magic do you?” he asked, suddenly suspicious, and he peered at them through increasingly unfocused eyes.

  Layna fought hard not to raise a hand to cover her neck, knowing that the movement would be conspicuous. She was conscious of the possibility that her own mark might look just like one of those old runes, and she waited for Gryffon to reply. “We don't approve of blood-magic,” he answered sternly and went on, fishing for more information. “I heard that the actual entrance to the tomb is outside of the main fortress ruins anyway,” he said casually while Layna tried to make her hand relax in her lap and ignore the urge to touch her neck. Unfortunately, the chain to the charm that hung around her neck was now rubbing just on the place where the mark was, and it was making Layna want to itch it like mad.

  “That's what the stories say,” the man said.

  “Just what are the stories?” Gryffon prompted.

  The man seemed to have imbibed enough alcohol that he was in a talkative mood, and he indulged Gryffon. “The stories say that the great hulking castle out there isn't where the real action took place. They say that there was another, hidden location that the Dark King saved for the really important stuff. Ask me, the castle itself is bad enough. I went there once.” The man shuddered visibly. “They say there's another one though, and it's said to be in the hills of the Shadowlands somewhere. There are even those who claim to have seen his followers even now, coming and going from the hidden tomb in great big black cloaks.”

  “Where in the hills?” Gryffon asked, leaning forward in his seat excitedly.

  “Hmph,” was the old man's grunted reply. He showed no further indication that he had any information as to the whereabouts of this hidden entrance, and every indication that he was losing interest in Gryffon in favor of his mug of ale.

  Gryffon and the man exchanged a few other pleasantries before it became obvious that the older gentleman was far too intoxicated to think straight, much less speak in coherent sentences. Layna found it impossible to ignore the itching sensation and focus on their conversation, and she finally settled on removing the offending necklace. She quickly ducked out of it and placed it in her pocket as the man took a large gulp.

  Gryffon eventually excused the two of them, and they weaved through the growing bar crowd and out into the night, wandering the streets. “It's pretty amazing how affected the town still is by the Dark King's presence, even after all this time,” L
ayna commented.

  “For sure,” agreed Gryffon. “The aura of fear is still here, almost thick enough to touch. If you watch, the people still glance up at the castle with trepidation as they walk under its shadow. Perhaps we should take a trip up there and see what we can find out.”

  “What, in the middle of the night?” Layna asked him as if he were crazy.

  “That way people won't ask questions why we're going there, and we might find out something useful,” he said reasonably. He waited for her reply, and added when she wasn’t forthcoming with it, “Plus, we can both conjure mage lights, so seeing will be no problem.”

  “It's not seeing that I'm worried about,” muttered Layna, but reluctantly agreed. As much as it frightened her, it nagged at her curiosity as well. Besides, after Jezebel and her blood-beasts, what could they possibly come up against in an abandoned building that would be worse?

  They sneaked through the shadows to the edge of town and mounted Axe and Fly. It was a fairly quick ride to where the massive castle stood, its gigantic form tainted with evil so pronounced that Layna could feel it leaching out of its stones without even touching the power.

  They left the horses tied outside, and carefully circumvented the gate that had been half-heartedly constructed to keep people away. They stepped lightly across the drawbridge, which creaked with age under their feet. The portcullis was halfway down, and they ducked underneath it quickly. Layna had the awful sensation that it might come crashing down on her at any second, spearing her with its ghastly sharp spikes.

  Layna glanced up at the murder holes in the ceiling as they passed underneath them, and saw with horror that though they were now plugged with age-old grime, tar still stained the edges. Evidence that at one time they really had been used. She breathed a sigh of relief when they reached the other side and were under the fresh air and stars once more.

  They jogged across the massive courtyard, and their feet made soft pattering sounds as they climbed the stairs towards the main entrance to the castle. Layna could see where the weather had taken its toll on the stones here as well. They were crumbling around the edges, and a few of the statues that had once stood proudly guarding the door, had toppled over and cracked or shattered. Moss and lichen covered every surface, vines snaked up the sides of the walls, and a tree had even pushed its way through the cobblestone. The gigantic wooden door was peeling and the ironwork was rusted.

  It was still impressive.

  Gryffon pushed open the door with surprising ease, and they carefully stepped over the threshold. Inside, the evidence of looters was predominant; there was not a single piece of gold trim, furnishings, or anything else of value to be seen. The room seemed mammoth, its vast empty space seeming to extend for miles. Their footsteps echoed alarmingly loud, and the moonlight shone in with soft radiance through the once beautiful windows. Gryffon whistled, impressed, and this sound too reverberated off the walls with eerie clarity. A tangy, brackish stench filled the air. Torn skeletal flags, once displayed proudly along the high ceiling, now dangled mournfully, blowing ever so slightly in the wind coming through broken stained glass.

  They picked their way through the mess of rotting and broken furniture, glass shards, and vegetation that had been blown in or had started to grow up through the stone floor. It made it uneven in spots, and they had to watch their footing as they came to stand before the dais. Many years ago, in this very spot, the Dark King had once sat to lord over his kingdom. Layna gave another involuntary shudder as she moved closer, and it came into plain view.

  The throne was a daunting sight. It was made out of bones, somehow melded into the stone framework of the seat, arranged in a morbidly artistic pattern. Two human skulls had been placed at the end of each armrest; their teeth were filed down to pointed fangs, and it looked as though the eye sockets had once held something before being pried roughly out.

  “Talk about intimidating your audiences,” Gryffon commented, unsettled.

  Layna nodded emphatically, her eyes wide. They moved off from the disturbing sight, and chose a hallway off to the left. It looked to be a main corridor that might lead them to somewhere useful.

  “What is it exactly that we're looking for?” Layna whispered to Gryffon.

  He answered at a regular volume. “Anything, I'm thinking we should check the library, even though there's unlikely to be anything left, and then see if we can't find our way down into the dungeons. That seems to be where the most,” he paused, “-interesting- things seemed to have happened.”

  Layna let out a barely audible moan. She had been afraid he'd say something like that. As they left the audience hall, the moonlight dimmed, and Gryffon and Layna both whispered the words to enchant mage lights. Two little balls floated out in front of them, illuminating the hallway with their muted glow.

  The state of the rest of the castle mirrored that of the audience hall. Upturned furniture not worth looting making obstacles in their path, and dust and spider webs clung to them as they passed. Layna's imagination ran rampant, and she kept swearing that she saw things lurking in the rooms. She had to keep reminding herself that, with the exception of rats or other animals who had claimed the castle as their home, she and Gryffon were the only living things here. A prickle of unease tickled at her senses.

  They eventually found the library and were disappointed that, as Gryffon had predicted, there was nothing left. There was a huge charred pile in the center of the room that, the rocks surrounding them discolored and cracked. It looked to be the remains of one of the book burnings, as though the people had simply knocked all the books off their shelves and burned them right there in the library - with no regard or care for whether they were books about blood-magic or not. Layna could hardly blame them after seeing the throne; she didn't think she'd dare touch anything that that man had owned either. The pile was starting to grow its own vegetation of sorts, making it look like a tiny mountain in the middle of the room.

  As the old man had said, the walls were littered with markings, but none looked to Layna to be authentic. She got the impression that most of them were from people more recently, simply proving their presence. No doubt many of the local kids used the place as their own haunted mansion, not recognizing the gravity of the events that had really happened here. In amongst the nonsense symbols were several painted red signs. “Nat was here,” and the like. Layna shook her head.

  It took them some time to finally find the doorway leading to the dungeons, and as their mage lights floated down into the dark abyss, Layna felt a sense of dread. The horrible atrocities that must have gone on down here were unthinkable. The almost unreal feel of the upper portion, scrawled with the graffiti of looters and kids, disappeared as they descended. Layna wasn't here to scratch her name on the stone wall to prove her bravery to the local group of kids. She was somehow mixed up in the history of the place, and she felt as though they were getting closer to answers. Answers she wasn't sure she really wanted to know anymore.

  They reached the bottom of the staircase, and a sudden realization hit her like a slap in the face. She stopped dead in her tracks. I've been here before.