The Imagineer's Bloodline: Ascendant Earth Chronicles – Book 1

by J. J. Lorden

  “Hell yeah,” Val said with smooth confidence; the tone one usually used to say, ‘thank you’. Then she looped an arm through Carson’s, dragging him onward.

  Erramir followed behind, smiling.

  28

  The Door

  Carson wanted to kick himself. How the hell did I forget about this? He stopped, and Val stopped with him.

  “What’s up?” she asked.

  “I can fly.”

  “You can–” Val started and cut off into a laugh. “You can fly!”

  “Unghh, that’s right,” Erramir said. “How the hell did we forget that?”

  Carson flipped a hand toward the sky in exasperation. “Dude! Seriously right? I was just asking myself that very question, and I have no idea.”

  “It’s a new skill. Plus, we’ve been busy: exploring the ruins, blood for the stairs, and then the elemental. It’s not really that surprising.” Erramir dismissed his irritation.

  “Yeah, I suppose that’s true.” Carson agreed although he sounded sullen.

  “Hey.” Val got his attention. “You remembered now. Forget about the rest.”

  “You’re right. Don’t know why I’m being such a wuss about it.” He nodded while speaking. “Let’s do this.”

  Carson looked up toward the sky. “I’ve never taken off.” Then scowled and continued bitterly. “Only figured out how to make the weave work while I was falling to my death.”

  “This is great. You’ll be able to scout ahead,” Erramir said, ignoring Carson’s sour remark. “See where we’re headed, look for any buildings, maybe find a place to spend the night, so we’re not out in the open.”

  “That’d be smart. This place at night is probably colder than hoarfrost on a freezer in the arctic.” Carson said, stepping away from them. “Maybe find some more mobs to hunt too.”

  Val brightened; the elemental was her only real fight so far, leaving aside the deaver, which she didn’t count. She felt a bit like their time was being wasted. “That would be great. We need to grind some levels. A couple more of those elementals would be perfect.”

  “As long as they’re loners,” Erramir injected. “We were lucky not to get blasted by that thing’s sonic attack. I almost went down even being outside the cone of effect. If they attacked us in a group, we could easily get overwhelmed.”

  “Oh yeah, that scream is vicious,” Carson agreed. “While you were in la-la land, it got one off that almost took us both down. But Val whacked the shit out of its ear. That shut it up, and I blasted it with Ice Volt!”

  Carson acknowledged Val with a fist bump and sneered lower lip bite. She returned the fist bump. “So, I think we’re good to fight a couple. I mean, we know they’re tricks now, and I’ve got an attack spell.”

  “What? Car, you just said the sonic attack nearly took out both of you. Why do think we’re ready for more than one? I’m the first to push our limits. But, I don’t get what you’re seeing.”

  Carson held Erramir’s gaze for a heartbeat more, then turned his head left–then right–then back to Erramir, with brow raised chin slightly tucked.

  “Annd?” Erramir led.

  Craning his head left and extending an arm, palm up, Carson proceeded to turn a full circle, indicating the wide-open expanse. “Err, there’s nowhere to hide out here. And I can use Ice Volt from a long way out–at least fifty yards–probably more. And blocking a yard-long ice missile that’s hardened and razor sharp.”

  Carson shook his head slowly. “That’s not gonna go so well for their arms, if they can even react fast enough. I can shoot Volts much faster than Val can throw Virg. I think we can handle more than one, Err.”

  “Humm.” Erramir nodded along with Carson. “It’s a good point Car. Missing the second half of that fight, I didn’t see Ice Volt in action, so I don’t get it’s capability. “He looked to Val. “You agree?”

  “Definitely.” Val nodded. “Those volts are deadly.”

  “Okay, good enough for me. No more than two though, agreed?”

  Carson and Val did, and attention shifted back to Carson. He took a couple breaths, settling himself in preparation for his first planned use of flight.

  Carson crouched, ready to jump, arms out, fingers spread, then looked up–“Here goes.”–and leapt.

  Erramir watched essence distortion gather, beginning to coalesce as Carson reached the peak of his jump, organizing into a sleek shell–then he dropped on his ass.

  Erramir and Val started laughing.

  Feeling for his friend, Erramir worked to stifle his mirth, Val didn’t. “Well, umm, it looks like your launch technique could use work. But I saw the magic start to gather. That was impressive,” said Erramir.

  Carson grumbled bitterly, regaining his feet and pointedly ignoring them both. Val kept snickering. Face determined, Carson turned his face skyward, and Erramir watched much denser essence coalesce quickly.

  From standing still, Carson blasted from the ground. A ring of snow billowed away from his launch point.

  Val abruptly stopped laughing. “Fucking hell,” she whispered as they both watched his green figure race away. She pointed with Virg, “I wanna do that.”

  “No kidding, right,” Erramir agreed, smiling. “Pretty amazing.”

  At a couple hundred yards away and at least fifty feet up, Carson turned a bit right and started slowly dropping. It seemed intentional–at least at first, until his arms and legs began flailing. Then, like a bird hit by a well-aimed rock, he started plummeting.

  “Shit. That’s not good,” Erramir muttered. He looked to Val, who had a hand clasped over her mouth. She darted a look at him, then they both started running.

  CARSON’S BUTT HIT the ground hard. His friends started laughing, and he felt his face flush. Ignoring their amusement, he hardly heard Erramir’s attempt at encouragement. Determinedly, he stood and threw his embarrassment into the second flight weave.

  It came together with explosive force, snapping into place and blasting him away like a cannon shot. That should shut them up, he thought.

  Within seconds, he deemed himself high enough, and angled toward the obelisk. Before going any higher, he wanted to work on improving his flight technique. There were a few delicate strands in the channeled weave that shifted pressure around his body for steering.

  Carson had previously played with using his arms, legs, and body to make minor steering adjustments. But he avoided that now. During his first flight from the Elven city to look for Erramir and Val, body movements just made him unstable.

  During this flight, he would avoid that, staying focused on the magical steering mechanics of this weave. That’s where Carson was absorbed when the main flight weave began to unravel. He had no idea–until he started to decelerate.

  Attention snapping to the main weave, Carson found it deteriorating as motes of essence tore themselves free. What the hell is this?! Suddenly terrified of falling to his death, he pushed more essence into it. But the weave just dissolved faster. His cocoon of air essence slid away, and his internal reserves spilled out like water through a sieve, sucked toward the obsidian tower.

  No, no, no. Scanning the ground frantically, he spotted a large snowbank, shifted his flight angle toward it, and using the last wisps of the weave, worked to get the trajectory right.

  The woven cocoon of flight power popped, and his straight-line travel turned into a parabolic drop. I hope this works.

  VALERIE AND ERRAMIR were running full speed when, at the last second, Carson’s pinwheeling figure pitched forward and slammed ass first into a huge white drift. He disappeared in a puff of snow. Erramir looked at Val. “What the hell was that? You think he screwed up?”

  Val shook her head. “I don’t think so. He understands air weaves really well. He basically intuited how I can throw my staff. Something must have gone wrong.”

  Approaching the snowdrift, they slowed to a walk. It loomed much larger up close than it appeared at a distance. “Holy crap. That’s not a drift; it�
�s a hill,” Erramir nudged Val. “I nominate you to take a look.”

  “Sure.” She snorted a laugh. “I’m not afraid of the big bad snow pile.” Val put a tentative foot into the mound. It sunk to her knee. “Yeah, that’s not going to work. It’s the perfect soft landing, though.”

  She stepped back and raised her voice, “Hey Car! You alive in there?”

  The snow mound responded with muffled moaning and cursing.

  “He’s fine.” She smirked then called, “You’re going to have to tunnel out of there. Snow’s too soft for us to climb up.”

  The incoherent cursing continued, followed by grunting and a soft grinding sound. It was a noise they knew well from digging out snow-caves as kids. Slowly the grunting got louder and then stopped and Carson called to them, but his words were too muffled to understand.

  “You’re too muffled, we can’t understand you!” Erramir hollered back. A moment later, the gentle grinding of snow being shoved around started back up and continued for a while without any commentary. As it got closer, the cursing started up again.

  “You alright in there, Car?” Erramir asked. The muffled response was vaguely affirmative. The noise of burrowing got louder until a snow-covered glove emerged at chest height. Erramir grabbed the hand. “Gonna pull you through, bud.”

  “Just do it!” came Carson’s reply, with unexpected enthusiasm.

  A snow-clad figure, appearing more like a yeti than a person, broke through the wall of powder. Carson hit the ground off-balance and stumbled into Erramir, who braced and helped steady him.

  Carson’s jacket was covered in icy snow, the furry cuffs caked together in balls of it, the hide skin white instead of brown, and the hood completely packed. It weighed heavily there, pulling the jacket collar up into his neck.

  With a chuckle, Val pushed his hood inside out, knocking it clean while Erramir helped brush him down. Despite the near disaster, Carson smiled like a cat that got the cream.

  “What are you so damn happy about?” Erramir asked. “You nearly died. What happened up there?”

  “Oh, yeah… thank Ink for this snowbank. I think that fall would have killed me otherwise. There’s something in the air, something wrong… it just started sucking my weave apart, didn’t matter how much essence I fed into it. When I realized I was screwed, I aimed for this.”

  He turned to the hill of snow. “And I am so glad I did.” He paused and pointed. “There’s a door in there.”

  Everyone grinned. Erramir clapped his hands. “Okay, let’s get digging!”

  Two tunnel cave-ins, and a bunch of snow hauling later, they were all covered in white and standing in a narrow stone alcove. Before them was a broad, ice-encrusted, stone door with frozen glyphs and blocky script etched into the frame.

  “A bit fancy for an outpost door,” Carson commented.

  “Isn’t it? I was just thinking that,” Val said, pensively rubbing her cheek against Virg. Having circled the drift while the men cleared the first cave-in, Val knew its footprint was reasonably small. “If this whole place really used to be green and alive, there could have been trees before. Maybe it was a stone entrance to a wooden building? To reinforce the entrance, you know.”

  “That makes enough sense to me,” Erramir said, then he put a hand on the door and pushed–it didn’t move. He heaved with both hands, leaning into it, to no effect.

  Carson bent a knee in front of the left side. “Probably has a latch. I’ll check this side for anything that looks promising–you check that one.”

  Erramir squatted next to him. “Yeah, good idea.”

  He’d barely begun when Carson spoke, “Look here, I got something.” Erramir and Val leaned in. “It’s a ring. Looks hinged at the top, I think. Just hard to see because it’s flush–set into an indentation, and the ice has filled in around it.”

  Pulling his dagger, Carson started banging around the ring with the butt of the hilt, splintering ice shards off with each strike.

  “Yeah, I can see it now,” said Erramir when the surface layer of ice was cleared. Carson kept at it for a bit more with little appreciable progress. He flipped the knife, and tried prying the ring out, but the ice was hard, and the gap was narrow.

  Frustrated, Carson stood up. “Well, shippy-sticks. I’ll break my dagger before I get it unstuck. Any ideas?”

  “I could launch my staff at it,” Val said, lifting Virg to her shoulder.

  “That’s not a bad idea,” Carson replied. “The blunt force might crack the ice and break it free.”

  She pulled one corner of her mouth back and tilted her brow with a shrug, “Who knows, could work. But when all you’ve got is a hammer…” She stepped back a few paces. The other two cleared to the sides.

  “Everything looks like a nail,” Erramir finished.

  Val lifted her staff. “Yep.” And with just a flip of her wrist, it riffled into the ring. Wham! VirginWood flew back to her hand.

  Carson stepped in to inspect. “Oh man, let’s not do that again. It looks like you might have put a crack in the ring.”

  “Damn, sorry. Tough to be gentle with Virg.”

  Not for the first time, Erramir was seriously impressed by Val and Virg. “You’re not kidding, Val. That staff is lethal.”

  Val preened just a little, standing tall. “Thanks, I can’t wait to fight some more.”

  Carson poked at the ring again with his dagger. “That blow did break free more ice, but it’s still stuck fast. And, any more blunt force may break this thing, and then we’d have a bigger problem.”

  “Didn’t you say you unlocked all the essences, Car?” Erramir asked. “That includes fire, doesn’t it?”

  Carson scrunched one eye closed, looking sidelong at him. “Yeah… It does.” He sounded reluctant. “It’s just that my fire affinity is my weakest. I haven’t used it for anything.”

  “This seems like a good time to give it a try,” Val said. “You need a fight to learn offensive spells, right? Maybe it’s the same for a little utility ice melting spell.”

  Carson nodded, regarding the ring. “It’s a decent point. Monster problem to figure out an attack spell, frozen door problem to figure out a utility spell. Makes sense.” Crouching again, he put a hand over the ring. After a couple minutes of nothing, the mage dropped his hand away and started shaking it out.

  Erramir poked him. “What’s going on, bud?”

  Clearly irritated, Carson replied, “I’ll get it… just give me a minute. Fire essence is really different. The others all feel like a conversation or a dance. This… this feels like a wrestling match.”

  “Oh. That different, huh? You want us to give you some space? We can go wait over there,” Erramir thumbed over his shoulder.

  “Yeah, that’s probably for the best,” Carson agreed. “I’ll get it. I know I will. But I’m not sure how long it’ll take. And it’ll be easier to concentrate if I don’t feel your eyes on me.”

  “Totally understand, we’ll be there. Just let us know if you need anything,” Erramir turned away and motioned to Val.

  “Thanks.” Carson turned his attention back to the door.

  Erramir and Val stepped out to the opening of their tunnel and the sizable pile of snow they’d deposited there. Erramir took a look about and then considered the relatively well-packed mound that nearly topped him in height.

  He lifted a booted foot and stepped into it at knee height. The snow gave several inches, then packed tight enough to resist his weight.

  “Remember doing this as a kid?” he asked Val.

  “Putting my foot in a snowbank? Sure, why?”

  “Not that…” He smiled. “This!” Erramir turned around and jumped butt-first into the snow. He had, unfortunately, forgotten about the four-foot sword on his back.

  The scabbard point dug in first, shoving the hilt up and forward, rapping him soundly on the back of his helmet. Simultaneously, his back landed hard on the blade that spanned the gap where he’d expected there to be only soft snow. �
�Oww.”

  Val laughed. “Nope. Never done that.” Offering Erramir a hand, she dragged him free of his ill-fated snow chair.

  “Yeah… me either,” he grumbled, rubbing his head with one hand and back with the other. “It works better without the enormous sword.”

  “Got it!” Carson called, then followed with, “Woahh. What the…? Heyyy, guys? I think you–”

  “Oiii! Wacha doin da me dor?!” A gruff voice resounded out the tunnel.

  “Arghh!” Carson cried. “What the fluckin frack!?”

  Sword drawn instantly and shield snatched from where it lay post shovel duty, Erramir bolted down the tunnel behind Val.

  “Wa? Fluuk wa? Ya be an elf boy, speek proper an annsar me,” the voice said.

  Before him, Val pulled up short. “Woah! Damn Val!” Erramir nearly bowled her over. Val ignored him.

  “You’re a door! Doors don’t talk!” Carson declared, scooting back on his ass.

  “What the hell?” Val asked, her words soft and slow.

  Erramir, having dodged to her side, saw and understood. The door had grown a face. And not a small one–it covered the whole door–a very big, very hairy face. “Umm, hello.”

  The face looked at Erramir. Eyebrows like bear cubs furrowed then rose. “Arrr, gud. Sumune da can spek rii proper. Av ya nevva sen a Bloudran Dwarf afor.”

  “No, this is our first meeting with aaa… Bloudran door-dwarf.” Erramir replied, bending and pulling Carson back to his feet. “I apologize if we offended.”

  “Dor-dwarf? Whut? No.” The face laughed out one side of its gargantuan mouth. Erramir thought of Santa Claus–if he was a thirty-foot mobster.

  “Idah be a da mighdee Breal Bloudran, boyyo. Nad a doooor. Henh henh henh. Yar seein me drough da Daedria. I nada be a doooor, boyyo. Dor-dwarf, henh. Glen ill gid a kik oudda dad un dare, yah boyyo.”

  Erramir didn’t know who or what the Breal Bloudran were, although it sounded like a group. More importantly, he didn’t care. At least not right now, Erramir wanted through this door.