“They are banished.”
“Why are they here?”
“They witness my invocation. A turning of the key. Some of them might once have been either victims of the Cloud Eaters or even lesser members of the Rephai themselves. They matter not. They are less than dust.”
“You speak in riddles,” he said.
“Only to those that comprehendeth not.”
Gathelaus did not care for her answers or sorcery, he hungered for the light of the dawn and an end to this invocation.
It was a long night.
***
Dawn came. Golden light crossed over the mountains in the east and splashed across the granite walls of the towering peak beside them.
Gathelaus believed the mountain was solid stone but something happened. A sudden vibration made the mountain hum and shiver, not like an earthquake, but as if a protective spell, a glamour cast over the entire creation twitched for a moment.
Ys’sara smiled brightly and nearly shouted her once hushed chant. Then she cast her branch into the smoldering fire and proclaimed, “Open!”
Something like the sound of distant horns resounded and a doorway illuminated itself in a rectangular aperture. Blinding light arced some twenty feet high and almost the span of a wagon it was so wide.
“It is done,” said Ys’sara. “I have turned the key.”
Gathelaus glanced about but saw no more of the shadow people. As Ys’sara had said they were gone with the dawn. She herself no longer cared for the fire or invocation, she was finished and stepping outside the protective magical circle was walking toward the great opening where there should be no door.
She paused at the threshold and signaled for Gathelaus to follow.
He was sure of it now. She was older. He guessed she looked like a forty-year-old woman. She was still incredibly beautiful, but the change was worrisome.
“Come, Gathelaus. I need you with me,” she said.
He looked back at the horses. They seemed to be transfixed and almost asleep despite their eyes being open.
“Come,” said Ys’sara. “We can leave any time we wish but the door will not remain open for long.”
Even as she had said the words, it seemed to Gathelaus that it was closing ever so slowly.
He raced up and followed as she stepped through. He looked her over and she nodded saying, “There is a price for magic, and I have paid it. Nothing else has changed between us.”
Inside was a gentle glow, illuminating the vast interior. The hallways were tall, carved so high from the grey stone that giants could have passed through with ease. Everywhere were carved glyphs and scenes of ancient renown. The floor too was magnificently decorated tile, with the intricate shapes of stars and galactic bodies, wholly an artwork that Gathelaus had never seen rivaled in all his days.
The atmosphere was hushed and seemed to contain a quiet reverence, yet when they spoke, their voices carried as if amplified by the very air.
“Is this the cliff palace?”
“Of the Cloud Eaters,” affirmed Ys’sara.
“Will they not be offended at this unbidden trespass?”
She laughed and it carried down the long hallway and echoed back. “They are asleep and powerless to stop me. Besides, I want to find them.”
“To find their treasure?”
“Of a sort,” she said.
“What else then?”
“You shall see. I can’t give up all my secrets in this hallway. There is much more to discover.”
Gathelaus shook his head in exasperation. Glancing along the walls, he saw more scenes depicting battles and great strife. It appeared to be men and giants battling gods of the air. There were wild magics and destruction and one scene showed a comet laying devastation and raining down ruin over the land. He could not understand the words below, but the finely carved bas reliefs were testament enough of what grim history had occurred in the dim past.
They came to a massive circular chamber, the ceiling of which was lost in the heights. So great was the size, that Gathelaus wondered if the inside of the edifice even corresponded with the mountain peak outside or whether strange magics interposed their own reality here.
All along the wall in finely chiseled alcoves were statues of men and a few women. They were huge, most at least twelve feet tall yet some standing near enough to fourteen feet. The carvings were exquisite, even finer than those reliefs in the hall. Details down to the smallest minutiae were carved by what could only be the hands of the greatest masters to have ever lived. Titles too, were placed at the base of each statue, naming this great folk, though still in a lettering Gathelaus could not fathom.
Gathelaus counted and found that there were fifty of the giant statues in the circular chamber.
“These are the Cloud Eaters,” proclaimed Ys’sara. “The giants of old who fought the gods and were punished for their rebellion.”
The statues looked like green aged copper to Gathelaus, but he had never seen such skill and nothing was ever close to the scope of their size.
She looked at Gathelaus and assumed his thoughts by answering, “Any such giants you have seen before, are their mere shades and degenerate creations. The Cloud Eaters mastered the secrets of life and created many beings to use as slaves to work for them and perhaps even we humans are but their trivial playthings.”
“No, the gods breathed life into man,” argued Gathelaus. “Not the giants.”
“So say your holy books,” countered Ys’sara, “but those who have drunk deeply of the wells of wisdom know there is always more to the story. Yes, these beings were here before us, and they created monsters and demons. Through their actions was the dark age brought about as the gods threw down their foes and banished them for a time. But that day has come.”
“These are but statues.”
Ys’sara’s eyes blazed in madness as she pointed at the statues saying, “Look again, Northman. These are they, frozen in sleep and I must awaken them to gain their lost wisdom fully, for there is no more I can learn from childish man.”
“Sounds dangerous. How can you trust them, they who would fight the gods?”
She laughed malevolently. “We all fight the gods at one time or another. Some just more boldly than others.”
“I am not talking about morality,” he said.
“Nor am I.”
Gathelaus looked closer at the nearest giant statue. The shape and symmetry were astounding. Six digits stood out from its great sandaled foot and when he looked above, he saw it had six fingers as well, clasped about the hilt of a sword the size of which no man in the world now could swing. The cast of its eyes was terrible and the beard devilish amidst the cruel smile which reeked of mockery and loathing. These being all were hateful and proud.
“Let me show you something because it amuses me,” she said.
She took him to a large panel on the wall and pointed at the glossy inscription. This is the tale of their final confrontation. This largest one is Ognel himself, king of the Cloud Eaters and for whom the road we travelled on is named, though through the centuries and travails, that is all gone swept away by the gods to blot out their hated enemies’ existence. And look there is his queen, the mighty Shuneeqal. Is she not magnificent?”
Gathelaus gazed up at the mighty statue of a giant before him. The being was at least fourteen feet tall and heavily muscled. He wore a horned crown and a belt that was fashioned with human skulls. He carried an axe, that Gathelaus guessed he would hardly be able to lift. The woman beside him wore a horned crown as well though she was not quite as tall, and the crowns points were less ostentatious.
“When the battle raged, the gods hid themselves in the earth, this palace was their last refuge. But even the gods could not fully destroy them and so forced them to sleep and sealed them in. I will wake them and learn their secrets one at a time.”
“Why would they tell you anything? If their malevolence and power is so well known to you, why should they share it?”
>
Ys’sara pursed her lip and said, “They will thank me for breaking the spell.”
Gathelaus doubted that very much, but he could see her mind was made up, there would be no arguing the point with her.
Ys’sara was preparing some kind of spell. She took items from a bag and poured them on the floor before reaching in and finding a bottle containing a yellow powder which she liberally cast over the concoction. She ran a hand over the foot of the nearest statue then kissed it gingerly.
Gathelaus was taken aback, of all the things he suspected, this was not it. He had never dreamed of awakening the titanic enemies of the gods, those beings of legend holding the secrets of making and inversion.
Ys’sara knelt over her magical brew and swirled her hands over the rising smoke.
“Why did you bring me here?” he challenged.
Ys’sara glanced up at him, her eyes a narrow slit of deceit. “I needed your protection against vagabonds and bandits.”
Gathelaus growled his displeasure and doubts both. “We saw no bandits and I’ve been of no service to your magics nor this magical working. Why am I here? Do you require a witness? A sacrifice?”
“You aren’t as stupid as you look,” she said, standing and facing him.
He drew his sword. “The truth!”
She held a hand up and a glow surrounded that hand ever so slightly. Her fingers were splayed wide but then as she made a fist, Gathelaus felt the sword yanked from his grasp by an invisible unstoppable force. Ys’sara whipped her hand back and the sword went flying through the air to clatter against the tiles at the far side of the chamber.
As Gathelaus moved to draw a dagger and charge at her, Ys’sara’s other hand went up opened then closed and he felt that irresistible strength this time about his throat. He was lifted into the air a foot off the ground.
She strode closer, holding her hand up as if the weight felt could be no more than a copper in her palm. “Truth, dear boy is that I did not need your sword. I could more than handle any cutpurses that would be unfortunate enough to cross my path. I needed no one to gather firewood or witness the shadow folk, nor even come inside the palace with me to see these arcane wonders that no mere human has ever witnessed before.”
His face was turning red, his breath was almost entirely closed off.
Ys’sara continued, “But as you can see, magic has a terrible cost when it used as powerfully as I require. I found mystic secrets in the black books of Satza and learned that I should not need any spiritual familiar to do my bidding if I could but use my own flesh and spirit to command the elements, but it burns me out like a candle. And to be renewed, I require a life that is most impressive and strong. You are indeed the most vital man I have ever met and will feed me anew.”
Gathelaus’s eyes flared in horror at her suggestion.
She stepped closer and though some lines had formed on her face denoting a woman of ten more years, she still held him completely in her sorcerous thrall.
“There is power in flesh and blood, Gathelaus. The giants knew that. It why they were eaters of men and drinkers of blood. That is why the gods banished them here, the palace beyond the veil of which no one has entered until I did. I will learn the secrets of making and become a new god.”
Gathelaus struggled against her invisible grasp, he kicked his legs but found nothing but empty air.
Ys’sara tsked at him. “A fighter to the bitter end. I like that about you.”
He reached his hand and strained against the invisible force that was strangling him, but there was nothing to fight against, he could reach his own throat but the power was not palpable, but he was being held, and he was being strangled. He would die.
Ys’sara stepped nearer, until she was only a few paces away. “I won’t kill you like this, Gathelaus. I need to draw forth your essence, your life into me. You have so much, I may look like a little girl when we are done.” She tittered cruelly.
Gathelaus kicked and flailed. It was hopeless, there was no breaking the force that held him. But she was there, she was close.
“This won’t hurt anymore,” she said, as long fangs sprouted from behind her ruby lips like a viper’s kiss.
He reached behind his belt and found his small eating dagger. He cast it at the vampire with his final remaining strength.
It struck her in the exposed arm and with a shriek, her magics dropped him.
He hit the floor and cracked his head upon the tiles.
She cursed and pulled the knife from her arm. “Now, I’ll make it hurt,” she hissed, and launched herself at him.
He kicked his legs out catching her in the stomach and threw her back against the wall. Her bizarre winged headdress and familiar red sash fell from her head.
She got up again, but instead of attacking him once more, she raced back to where she had prepared her sorcerous incantation.
“Ognel! I wake you! Capture and hold my foe! I command you!” With that invocation she cast down a final powder of cobalt blue and smoke launched forth in a cloud billowing and masking a great section of the hall. Lightning crackled and illuminated a section of the alcove behind.
Gathelaus willed himself to get up. He could no longer see Ys’sara though he had a good idea where she was in the murk. His sword was on the tiles at the far end of the chamber. He hurried towards it amidst the sound of groaning and a massive deep-chested yawn echoed.
The blue smoke faded just as soon as it had come and Ys’sara stood before the figure of Ognel, who was now rippling with the color of life rather than the corroded copper green. His hair and beard were a gold-flecked red, while his armor was a mix of gold and steely silver. His skin was white with tints of blue and his eyes blazed yellow with a fire all their own.
Gathelaus remembered that another name for the giants of old was the shining ones and now he knew why, their very eyes appeared lit as if from burning internal lamps.
Ys’sara shouted, “Ognel, it is I, Ys’sara Tay Donwald who has awoken you. Do as I command of thee and capture that man that we may together sup upon his bones.”
Gathelaus felt the incredible gaze of the giant Ognel, whose massive yellow slitted eyes took in the full scene. He cocked his head once inside the alcove and looked down at Ys’sara without uttering a word.
“Ognel. I have freed you through my magics. Do this for me and I will share his blood with you.”
The great giant blinked once, then put his foot down atop Ys’sara, smashing her to a pulp.
Her final scream still echoed in the humongous chamber though she was very much gone.
“Votan,” cursed Gathelaus.
The massive giant stepped from the alcove. He swung his axe thrice and the edge of the gigantic blade sang as it sliced the air.
Gathelaus had no doubt that the giant meant to slay him regardless of their mutual disaffection for Ys’sara.
Each step of the coming behemoth rattled Gathelaus teeth. Each step thumped the tiled floor. Each step was more than three times Gathelaus’s stride.
The giant Ognel raised his axe.
Gathelaus charged and slid on the smooth tiles between the giant’s legs, swiping his sword across the giant’s ankles jut as the axe head crashed down. He felt the singing wind of the colossal head as it smote the floor.
Gathelaus’s sword cut through the giant’s sandals and flesh, though not as deep as he would have liked. Dark blood ran sluggishly.
Ognel finally made a sound, a pained cry, though his voice was deep as the pit. He wheeled about and stamped a great foot at Gathelaus who narrowly rolled out of the way.
Gathelaus stood and raised his sword, just as the great axe fell and chipped a chunk out of the tiled floor. Chips of stone flew, blinding him. He backed away swiftly before Ognel could again stomp his great foot down.
The giant pursued Gathelaus’s swift retreat.
Gathelaus climbed into one of the alcoves to give himself an attempt at gaining height to stab at the giant.
Ognel slo
wed lest he crash into the frozen statue of one of his compatriots and at that moment, Gathelaus leapt with his blade stabbing at the giants exposed arms and legs.
The sword dug into Ognel’s limbs flesh causing blue-black blood to flow freely. Gathelaus vaulted away to avoid any repercussions of the terrible giant.
None of the cuts had been terribly deep, but the giant was slowing. Gathelaus was cautious, he wondered if the giant wasn’t trying to lull him into error.
Ognel’s already pale blue-tinted skin looked even whiter. He stepped slowly back toward his alcove, dragging the axe as if its weight was greater than a moment ago. His dark blood left a dripping trail behind him.
Gathelaus readied his sword and followed the titanic foe.
Ognel ignored him and climbed back into his alcove and stood tall within again. He looked at Gathelaus and said with a voice like the booming of thunder, “You are blessed that I was not yet at my full strength having been revived far too soon. I must sleep, but if the day should come in your lifetime that I awake again, then you and yours will know true fear.”
Gathelaus growled in anger and considered charging and letting his blade finish off the retreating giant.
But as Ognel stood erect in his notch, a burst of lightning flowed over him and he was still as stone once again, returning to that green corroded copper appearance.
Gathelaus looked at the ruined red smear that had been Ys’sara and he pitied her poor end. He grasped the red silk sash she had worn and held it in wonderment.
He saw nothing in the giant’s palace that he desired nor thought safe to take, he went down the long hallway and stepped out the open doorway into the afternoon sunlight.
“Where did you come from?” asked one of several men sitting about the dead campfire from the night before. “You weren’t there a second ago.”
Gathelaus looked behind himself and saw nothing but the solid cliff face of the mountain peak. He ran a hand along the space where the door had been and felt naught but cold stone.
“These your horses?” asked one of the men.
“Yes, both of them,” answered Gathelaus. He looked at the red sash. It disintegrated as if it had aged hundreds of years in an instant.
The Usurper Page 24
