Azerick pointed to a low, mortared, circular stone wall about ten feet across. “It was the well. When it held water instead of sand, this was probably a major trading post. There were probably hundreds, even thousands, of tents pitched inside and outside of the stone ring. Whoever controlled this well held enormous power and influence in the region.”
“Well, let’s get this over with so we can get back to a place where the landscape doesn’t shift every time the wind blows,” Maude suggested and stood up.
It did not take long to search the few stone buildings whose walls had withstood the ravages of time. The citadel’s tower had fallen long ago as well as the floors within the fortress itself. Having finished looking within the few standing walls, they began searching through the rubble. Azerick and Malek created their own lights and split up into two teams, peeking into the nooks and crannies and hollows created by the fallen walls and tumbled stones.
“I think I got something over here!” Borik shouted.
Azerick and Maude looked up from the fallen stones they were searching under and saw Borik and Malek on their hands and knees wiping several inches of sand off something on the ground. Azerick saw that they had uncovered what appeared to be a large stone slab about eight feet by four feet trapped beneath a couple of large blocks of stone that had fallen atop of it.
It took all four of them to shove the blocks off the stone slab. Once the blocks and sand were cleared from the slab, Borik identified the stone as grey granite that must have been hauled hundreds of miles from where it had originated. The slab was set flush into the bedrock with such precision that Azerick doubted he could slip a piece of parchment between the seams.
Maude looked at the slab dubiously. “Anyone have any ideas on how to pry this thing up?”
“There’s no way you’re gonna pry that thing out with the tools we have available,” Borik pointed out. He then laid atop the slab, pressed his ear to the solid surface, and gave it several sharp raps with the pommel of his dagger. “That thing weighs at least six tons, maybe more depending on how thick it is. I put it at about eight inches thick, give or take about an inch. The goods news is that there is definitely a chamber or a passage beneath it.”
Azerick studied the stone for a moment. If it had been natural stone and not carved, he could use the spell he had used in the dragon cave and basically disintegrated it. However, since it was worked stone, the natural energies had been changed and that spell would no longer have an effect on it. Instead, he went to work on it with his sunder spell. It strongly resisted his tampering but in the end, his persistence won out over the stone’s stubbornness and he managed to sink a couple of flaws into it.
Azerick borrowed Malek’s shield, propped it against his legs, and had everyone else stand back. He summoned his staff to hand and struck the slab with all his might. Several runes flared brightly the instant the arcanum ball struck the granite surface. A sharp crack, like a large tree snapping in strong winds, echoed across the sands as jagged pieces of stone flew up and clattered against Maude’s steel armor and the shields protecting Azerick’s body.
The majority of the stone slab broke into large chunks and toppled down the stone stairs that lay hidden beneath it. The rest had turned into a blast of tiny projectiles and Azerick’s arms bled from several places where the sharp stone shards pierced his magical wards and ruined yet another of his shirts. Malek helped him wash the wounds out and used a minor healing spell to close the mostly superficial injuries.
“Nice trick with the stick, wizard. Can you pull a rabbit out of a hat too?” Borik asked sardonically.
“No, but I could probably pull an untold number of creatures out of that wild habitat of a beard hanging from your chin,” Azerick shot back.
Borik looked offended at the slight against his beard and used his hand to try and pull out some of the tangles and smooth it down.
“It looks like we go down from here,” Maude stated, looking down into the gloomy interior.
“Nice choice of words, Maude,” Borik grumbled
The party descended the stairs single file and soon reached the broken remains of the stone slab. A long dark corridor waited for them at the bottom of the steps nearly thirty feet below the surface.
Small alcoves held statues of men in strange armor and billowing clothing similar to robes. Most held weapons, most commonly large, curved swords, but others held open tomes and stared sagely down at those who walked between them. Larger alcoves created small rooms where old wooden desks, stools, and beds still stood, almost untouched by the ravages of time.
The passage continued for several hundred feet, at the end of which were a brass-bound set of double doors that stood ten feet tall and twelve feet wide. Ornate brass rings hung in the jaws of a brass lion’s head at chest height near the split between the doors.
“Looks like maybe you get to play sapper again,” Borik told Azerick as they stepped up to the closed doors.
Azerick pulled on one of the rings and the door easily swung open, dislodging a small amount of dust that floated down in a multitude of motes illuminated by his light.
“Darn, too bad.” Borik grumbled.
A soft beam of light shone through an unseen opening at the far end of the large chamber, highlighting the statue of a warrior in a soft glowing aura. They saw more statues standing in silent guard along the walls as they walked toward the moonbeam and the figure it illuminated.
The statue was made of a pure white marble, unmarred by any other colors or patterns. On the warrior’s proud head, standing in stark contrast to the white stone, was a helm of absolute black, its edges traced in gold. The white marble of the statue glittered under the moonbeam but the helm seemed to absorb it, not letting any of it reflect off its liquid black surface.
“I think we found it,” Malek said unnecessarily.
“So that is what we have been searching for,” Maude stated in awe.
Borik elbowed Azerick in the hip. “Coming up is the part when the statues come to life and try to kill us or ghosts appear to devour our souls.”
“I guess we had better be ready then,” Azerick said as he stood upon the large marble plinth upon which the statue stood.
Borik pulled several wooden wedges from his pack and lodged them firmly beneath the open bronze door. “Because you know it’s gonna slam shut and lock us in with a horde of baddies.”
Azerick looked to the dwarf. “Good idea.”
“This ain’t my first dance at the ball,” Borik scoffed in reply.
Azerick reached up and lifted the helm from the sculpture’s regal brow. As the sorcerer stepped down from the pedestal a low thrum like a single giant heartbeat echoed through the floor, a deep vibration they all felt roll through them, setting their flesh and bones to tingling.
“Oh great, here we go,” Borik growled, unlimbered his axe, and prepared for the inevitable fight for their lives.
Azerick dropped the helm into his magic bag and prepared to defend himself. The adventurers unconsciously formed themselves into a circle looking outward and waited for any signs of attack. After several minutes with no sign of any foes, everyone started to relax. The statues stood just as rigidly as a statue was supposed to, no monsters came charging down the halls, and no signs of any ghosts or spectres appeared.
“Well how about that, it’s about damn time we catch a break,” Borik said brightly and hooked his axe back onto the harness on his back.
Azerick was not quite as optimistic as the dwarf was. He had no idea what the ominous pulse heralded but he sincerely doubted that whoever had created the effect would have gone to the trouble without good reason. Perhaps whatever guardians it was supposed to summon were long dead or the trap that was supposed to have sprung had crumbled to dust ages ago.
Maude led them back toward the surface and wisely remained alert as they traveled down through the long, gloomy corridor and back up the stairs.
“If we hurry we can get out of here before the sun rises and
tries to bake us like a loaf of bread,” Maude said and stepped out onto the sand.
A sudden tingle of warning shot through Azerick. Without pausing to think, he grabbed Maude by the collar of her breastplate and pulled her backwards with all his strength, dropping her unceremoniously onto her backside by his feet.
“What in blazes—,” Maude started to shout the moment she felt herself being jerked back.
Two brown and sand-patterned snakelike creatures burst out of the sand right where the woman’s feet had stepped a split second before. The creatures were as big around as a large man’s thigh, but Azerick had no idea how long they were. Part of its length was hidden below the sand. Their mouths were enormous. Their jaws were hinged at least a foot back from the tip of their snouts and filled with long, sharp teeth.
“Holy cripes, that thing almost ate me!” Maude cried, as she jumped back to her feet and drew her huge, two-handed sword from her back.
The party stared out at the expanse of sand all around them and saw the flickering movement of the sandworms gliding just below the surface like a huge school of fish amidst a feeding frenzy. Azerick picked up a fist-sized stone and threw it out into the sand as far as he could. The instant the stone thumped into the sand, numerous sandworms struck out at it, the fastest worm snatching it up in its jaws and pulling it below the surface. The sand all around them, for as far as they could see, writhed and undulated as untold numbers of the sandworms swarmed toward the thrown rock.
“Gods in paradise, they’re everywhere,” Malek said softly with astonishment.
“Wizard, I hope you got a spell to fly us all over the ridge or a flying carpet in that bag of yours,” Borik said anxiously.
Azerick shook his head. “I have nothing that will span that distance. I have a gate spell that allows us to step across a wide expanse but it reaches only three or four hundred yards at best. It is several times that distance to the ridge.”
“Why aren’t they trying to eat us right now?” Maude asked.
“The fortress was built on bedrock of sandstone. The sand is only a few inches deep here. It looks like the sandworms cannot or will not come all the way out of the sand,” Azerick replied.
“So how do we get out of here?” Borik demanded.
“I think that is the purpose,” Azerick explained. “The helm was not difficult to get to; it did not need to be since the thief was never going to leave here alive. That pulse we felt probably woke the creatures who act as natural guardians. It is quite ingenious and effective.”
“Well I’m so glad you’re impressed with the method of our death, wizard. I would sure hate to think we were going to die in some boring fashion like old age in our own beds,” Borik complained bitterly. “Got another icebeer?”
Azerick pulled out a skin of beer, cups, and small sticks he had collected for the task and froze everyone an icebeer. The sorcerer then sat down on a block of stone, nibbling his own icebeer, and wracked his brain for a solution to their current problem.
Maude could tell that, despite appearances, the wizard was deep in thought so she followed his example and sat down as well. She only hoped his ponderings were focused on getting them out of here. If it were Tarth, the gods only knew what would be going through his mind at a moment like this. Then again, even the gods probably feared to tread in the elf’s mind for fear of going mad themselves. Thinking of her lost friend brought a new wave of despondency but she let it come, having no pressing need to shove it aside at the moment.
Azerick finished his frozen treat and stood up. He took small steps forward, shoving the tip of his staff into the sand. Even that slight vibration set the nearest sandworms into motion a few yards away. He drew a long line with the staff where he felt the bedrock end. He then grabbed his staff by the end and rhythmically thumped the ground with the arcanum ball.
Almost immediately, several sandworms struck with the speed and aggression of barracuda. One of the creatures bit down on the end of the staff, swallowing the gleaming orb at the end like a fish on a lure. Azerick triggered one of the engraved runes on the staff, which briefly flared with a blue light, sending a powerful jolt of electricity through the arcanum sphere.
“Help me hold onto this!” Azerick shouted as the creature involuntarily clamped down and began thrashing about as the electricity coursed through its body.
Maude leapt up, grabbed the staff just above Azerick’s hands, and heaved back so that she was not stepping across the line. The frantic writhing immediately caught the interest of the other sandworms that began attacking their wounded and flailing brethren. Borik and Malek darted forward and used their weapons to hack at the sandworms that were intent on cannibalizing one of their own.
Maude and Azerick managed to land the beast largely intact. Azerick pulled his staff from the creature’s mouth, glad to find that it had not been damaged in any way, hunkered down, and took a close examination of the carcass.
The creature was well camouflaged for its surroundings. Its snout was cone-shaped and long thorns or thick hairs covered its body. Azerick could find no sign of eyes or ears. Using the knife he had taken off the Rook, Azerick cut one of the thorns from the sandworm’s hide. He set the small horn on a flat stone and pressed the sharp blade down upon it, cutting it in half. Azerick nodded thoughtfully when he found that the horn-like structure was hollow and filled with a fluid similar in consistency with lamp oil.
Azerick looked up at the others who were watching him intently. “It senses us by our vibrations through these protrusions. I imagine they are incredibly sensitive. No matter how softly we tried to walk, they would feel exactly where we were and devour us, and at the rate they can travel we would never outrun them.”
“So what do we do? Sit here until we starve?” Borik asked sourly.
Malek shook his head. “That could take a very long time. Azerick has enough food in that bag of his to feed an army and I have a prayer that will create water. We would die of old age before we starved.”
“Or die of boredom,” Borik muttered. “Does that prayer of yours make beer too?”
“Nope, just water.”
“Rather throw myself to the sandworms,” Borik muttered some more.
Azerick was not about to admit defeat just yet. There was a way out of this he was certain. He did not know a spell to get them across without touching the sand but he could make a minor change to a spell he knew. It was not like creating an entirely new spell, such would be impossible unless they were going to spend months sitting on this slab of rock, which they may end up doing if he did not figure something out.
He had spent a great deal of time thinking about what Duncan had said about sorcery and rune carving, that the only limits were a caster’s imagination and ability to control the power they drew. Azerick had practiced altering some of the spells he already mastered with varying degrees of success. He simply needed to figure out which one might contain the solution to their dilemma.
“Could we make a bridge out of the stone blocks lying about?” Maude asked, looking at the toppled ruins.
“I don’t think so, Maude,” Borik answered. “Those stones weigh over a thousand pounds apiece. Without rollers and pulleys, it would be near impossible. Plus we would have to step onto the sand to place them unless we could roll them across the one just set down.”
“I might be able to make a bridge,” Azerick said suddenly.
“You got a hundred or so dwarven bridge builders in that bag too?” Borik asked sardonically.
“No, but I have a spell that will create a series of stone spikes to jut up from the ground,” Azerick started to explain.
“I hate to picture what would happen if one of us slipped off and landed on the tip,” Borik interrupted. “Frozen beer on a stick is delicious. Dwarf on a stick, not so much.”
“I think I can modify the spell to make cylindrical columns instead of tapering to an impaling point,” Azerick continued. “If I have them jut straight up and tightly packed together I shou
ld be able to create a walkway a few feet above the sand. Keep a weapon handy in case these worms try and strike at you though.”
“Sounds better than the plan I came up with,” Maude said.
“What plan was that?” Malek asked.
“Don’t give Borik a drink for a few hours and then throw a wineskin out as far we can. When he goes running after it, drawing away all the sandworms, we run the other direction.”
“Oh, hardy har har. You’re about as funny as you are feminine,” Borik retorted.
Maude glared back at him. “On second thought, save the wineskin and just throw the dwarf.”
Azerick was unsure how far away he could cast his stone spike spell and how long he could make a single path. He reexamined the changes he would have to make to the spell and stood just behind the line he had drawn marking the end of the bedrock. He bent his focus to the Source and drew upon its seemingly limitless power. A hundred yards away, dozens of stone cylinders, each about a foot cross, sprouted out of the sand like a multitude of tree stumps about four feet tall.
“Hate to tell you this, wizard, but that’s a mighty long jump for someone whose legs are barely two feet long,” Borik informed him.
“If I tried to make a solid path we would be lucky if I could span half the distance we need to go, and that is greatly exaggerating my ability,” Azerick explained.
Azerick cast another spell and opened a magical gate between them and the end of the raised stone path.
“Be careful when you step through; it causes some disorientation for a moment. Walk straight through and do not step to either side.”
Maude took a deep breath and walked through the portal. She immediately stepped out onto the narrow ledge and felt the ground swaying and spinning under her feet. The warrior forced herself not to try and compensate for the dizzying effects of the long step. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and carefully took a few tiny steps forward.
The Sorcerer's Vengeance (The Sorcerer's Path) Page 2
