“What do we do?” asked Rogan, hands on knees, breathing heavily.
Beck looked around and up at the rock wall. “I don’t know. The compass is pointing east. This,” he said, pounding the leafy rock, “is east!”
“Can we scale it?” asked Kiernan, stepping back to get a clearer view of the wall’s height.
“Doubtful,” he said, shaking his head.
“We are wasting time,” said Rogan impatiently. “We have to find a way around it.”
Beck reached out with his magic. The wall itself, behind the profuse covering of jungle vines, was made of hard sandstone and immense in width and length and built several feet into the ground. Behind the wall was a mountain of earth leagues long. He sought out any weakness or crack in the stone that he could exploit to bring it crashing down, but found none. Broadening his search, he felt a void several paces along the north end of the wall. “Wait!” he shouted. “I think I found something.”
He pulled out of his shifting and walked over to the place in the wall where he sensed a hole in the stone. “Over here!”
Airron ran over to help him clear the dense vines and, when they were finished, a narrow tunnel appeared. The Elf bent down to look inside. “Let me have the torch!” Beck quickly handed it to him and watched as he thrust it inside. Airron’s voice came back with a hollow, tinny quality. “It is going to be wet, but it stretches far into the mountain.” His silver head reappeared. “I think we should give it a try. If we attempt to go around, it will just take up time we do not have.”
Beck nodded.
Airron clapped Rogan on the shoulder. “Rogan is going to have to light the way. The smoke from the torch will be lethal in such a confined place.”
“Rogan?” asked the Dwarf in disbelief, looking around at the others. “Did he just call me Rogan?”
“Slip of the tongue,” Airron said, pushing him forward. “Now, get in there, fireball.”
Rogan grunted and walked hesitantly into the cave, creating fire as he went. The Dwarf hated tight, enclosed places as much as Kiernan hated snakes.
Beck extinguished the torch and then motioned the others in before him and took up the rear. It was wet in the cave on the floors, the walls, and the ceiling. As soon as he ducked inside, he felt water trickle onto his head and down the back of his shirt, and it continued to drip incessantly as they trotted. For the next hour, they trudged through the ankle-deep water and the only break in the monotonous march was when Kiernan screamed out and kicked a rat against the tunnel wall. After that, all Beck could hear was the unremitting seepage of water and all he could see was Rogan’s flame flickering up ahead.
As more hours sped by, Beck was beginning to regret the decision to enter the cave when all of a sudden he felt a sharp pull in the water and Rogan cried out. “The water is rising!” Not only was it rising, thought Beck, but a rush of rapids was starting to develop and it was getting harder to maintain his footing as the water swirled just below his knees.
“We need to get out of here,” said Rogan, and Beck heard a slight crack in his voice. Due to his height, Rogan would be swimming long before the rest of them.
“Don’t panic,” he ordered.
“Grab my clothes!” yelled Airron. “I am going to scout ahead and see how far the tunnel goes.”
Rogan stopped and turned his flame around just in time for Beck to see Airron’s lanky body shrink down into that of a Hawthorne Lake sturgeon. The large fish leapt out of the water and then disappeared, moving smoothly and quickly into the cave. Beck reached for Airron’s clothes and boots in the soft glow of the magical flame and stuffed them into his pack.
“Let’s keep going,” he said. “Kiernan, hang on to Bajan.” They continued their advance, and the water was up to Rogan’s chest by the time Airron returned and shifted back to his body.
“There is moonlight up ahead, but we still have quite a way to go. We will all be swimming before we make it there.”
“Bloody hell, I don’t think I can make it!” cried Rogan. “The magic is draining my energy, and I am not sure how much further I can keep this up.”
Beck urged the party to move as fast as they could but, as he suspected, it was not long before they were treading water. He was amazed that Rogan was still able to keep his one hand holding the flame up and out of the water. It was a heroic effort, and Beck knew that Rogan was the only fireshifter alive who could have kept up a constant shifting for so long without interruption. The one thing in their favor was that the water was flowing very rapidly now and propelling them forward at a very quick pace.
“There are no snakes in here, are there?” asked Kiernan in a shaky voice as she hung on to Bajan’s neck.
Beck was about to tease her when he heard a grunt and the flame went out. “What happened?”
“It’s Rogan! He went under,” shouted Airron.
Beck swam as fast as he could toward Airron’s voice in the blackness and together they reached down and pulled Rogan out of the water. Rogan coughed up a mouthful of water and moaned, his head hanging between his shoulders.
“Beck, we cannot be that much further now. I will shift into an owl for a different viewpoint and so I can see in the dark. Can you handle Rogan?”
“Yes, go!”
Beck could not see Airron shift, but heard the flap of short wings moving ahead through the air. He flipped Rogan onto his back and put his arm under the Dwarf’s chin to keep his head above the water, which was now rushing powerfully through the cave. Up ahead, he heard a sound that was initially faint, but was getting progressively louder and more worrying as they drew closer. Uneasy, he tried to slow his momentum by reaching out to the cave wall but with one arm around Rogan, he could not procure a grasp on the slippery sandstone. He knew they were near the end of the cave when he looked over and could see Kiernan’s gray outline beside him, arms still wrapped tightly around Bajan’s neck.
She looked terrified.
She was saying something to him, but he could not hear her in the now deafening noise.
With a whoosh, the owl was back, frantically beating its wings and shrieking. Beck could not actually hear the shrieking, but could see the beak opening and closing in alarm. It was as close to a dire warning as an owl can give.
Hang on! Beck mouthed to Kiernan, and tightened his grip on Rogan, motioning for her to do the same. Moments later, the four of them spilled from the cave at last, and out into the open night air.
Beck’s stomach lurched violently as he fell with his semi-conscious burden held tightly in his arms. The pool of water beneath him was a churning froth of rapids, and he slammed into it with tremendous force. Sharp pain lanced through his rib cage, which now felt shattered into a million pieces as he kicked to the surface, still clutching Rogan. He turned back to look at the height of the towering waterfall in the moonlight behind him and decided it was only through the good graces of the Highworld that he had managed to hang on to his friend during their mid-air flight over the falls. The fireshifter was lethargically choking on the intake of water, but at least he was breathing, even if his eyes remained closed.
He swam to the water’s edge and dragged Rogan out, laying him on the rocky shore. Scanning the darkness for Kiernan, he saw her head erupt out of the water further downstream, but Bajan was quickly advancing toward her. She reached out and took hold of his neck again, but the Draca was having difficulty fighting the strong currents with the added weight from Kiernan. Cursing, Beck ignored his pain, sprinted down the shoreline, and dove back into the water.
“Beck!” Kiernan managed to cry out before a wave crashed over her head, her grip torn from Bajan’s neck. Beck plunged underwater and caught her by the waist. She clung to him in relief, and he swiftly towed her to the shore where she immediately flopped down on the ground beside the sodden Draca Cat. The owl fluttered down from the sky, and Airron shifted back into his Elven form and fell back next to them.
“Is everybody all right?” Beck asked.
Bot
h Kiernan and Airron groaned affirmatively.
“We are going to need some type of stretcher to carry Rogan. I will see what I can find. Rest while you can.” He consulted the compass. It was still pointing to the east.
“I will help,” said Kiernan, and Beck held out his hand, helping her to rise.
“You sure?” he asked. She was soaked through to the bone, her dress clinging to her body.
She nodded and gave him a small smile.
“Over here, then,” he said leading her. “We need to find strong wood that we can use for the base of the stretcher.”
“While you do that, I will look for some thin vines to lash the frame together.”
It took longer than Beck expected to find just the right size and length of wood he needed in the blackness of day. Was it still day? He was not even sure anymore. When he returned to the water’s edge, Rogan, Bajan, and a naked Airron, were still lying on the ground, asleep.
“Airron, wake up and help me build this stretcher.”
The bodyshifter mumbled something incoherently but sat up.
“Where’s Kiernan?” asked Beck, looking around.
“Dunno,” said Airron groggily. “Last time I saw her, she was headed into the forest with you.”
Beck cupped his hands to his mouth. “Kiernan!”
There was no answer and his heart skipped a beat. Just like in Iserport when Kiernan went missing, he knew something was wrong. “Stay here with Rogan,” he said to Airron and tossed the wood to the ground, striding back into the forest where he had last seen her. “Kiernan!” he shouted, pushing at the heavy foliage with annoyance. This portion of the rainforest was so thick with hanging creepers and trees, that it was difficult to navigate through them. He stopped to listen. The forest was eerily quiet compared to the rush of noise from the waterfall in the clearing behind him. So quiet that as he stood perfectly still and listened, he was able to hear a small noise that sounded like a muffled cry.
He hacked at the vines in front of him with one hand and shifted with the other commanding the landscape to part and provide him with a path. The leaves and vines untangled with an audible groan and he charged through. Not far into the forest, he stopped short in dread.
He had found her.
She was hanging off the ground tightly entombed in the grasp of a snake.
If you could call it a snake.
Its head, with forked tongue darting in and out around fangs the size of his fingers, was massive. He could tell that Kiernan was trying desperately hard not to cry out, but her fear of snakes was so deep-seated, she was on the verge of a breakdown. The only thing he could see of her was the top portion of her head from the nose up and her feet. The snake covered every other inch of her entire body.
Beck moved into the open space of the snake’s lair, and the serpent watched him come with half-lidded, yellow eyes. Kiernan tried to scream out when she saw him, and the snake responded by squeezing tighter and Beck heard the snap of a bone breaking. Seething, he thrust out his hands, fingertips sizzling, and the branch the snake was hanging from split in two and crashed to the ground. As the snake fell, it loosened some of its grip on Kiernan to rush at him. He feigned to the left, but then darted to the side in a roll as the snake’s head lashed out to bite him. Turning back, he slammed his fist powerfully down on the serpent’s head, and it released even more of its hold on Kiernan. She pushed at the snake’s body and began to crawl away backwards on the palms of her hands. The snake immediately sensed his prey slipping from its grasp and whipped his head toward her.
Beck wove his hands again and the forest floor underneath the snake began to roil, sliding up and over the snake to bury it. Kiernan finally managed to disentangle herself completely, her arm hanging uselessly next to her body. She staggered to her feet and started to run, but the snake slithered out from under the dirt and wrapped her up again, this time covering her head. Beck could tell she was struggling to breathe as the snake compressed harder.
He cast his hand in a circular pattern and a vine whipped out and encircled the snake’s neck pulling it taut. Stalking close, he grabbed the enormous jaws in both hands and used every bit of strength he possessed to pull the snake’s mouth apart until it cracked open at a hideous angle and the snake fell to the ground, dead.
It took him several moments to unravel the large, sinuous body from around Kiernan, and when he did, her face was blue and she was not breathing.
He gathered her up in his arms and ran with her back to the clearing where Bajan’s heartrending cry pierced the air.
Chapter 32
ACT OF DISGRACE
Adrian Ravener approached the torch-lit battlefield cautiously, his sister at his side and hundreds of horned demon soldiers fanned out behind. Across the distance, he watched the Elven King, Jerund J’El, making his way to the front lines of the Iserlohn Army with his elite Elven Gladewatchers. Numbering close to five hundred, the hooded Elves made an impressive sight atop their white horses, highstepping in synchronization and dressed in their famed golden tunics that glistened richly in the soft light. Intelligent, violet eyes missed nothing as they scrutinized the scene before them.
Adrian smiled. Perfect. Of all of the enemy soldiers standing in front of him, King Jerund’s Gladewatchers were the most dangerous and, therefore, would need to be eliminated first. He silently thanked the Elves for making it so easy for him.
For whatever the reason, the Dwarves had still not made an appearance. Neither had the Savitars. Children, Avalon called them. Galen should have known better than to send children against him, but what choice did he have really? He was dying and all of the shifters that could have made a difference for Massa were dead. According to his scouts, the Iserlohn Army was fifteen thousand strong. Even with the newly-arrived Gladewatchers, it was still a puny defense and it was difficult to understand why they chose to fight.
His gaze slid over the bannermen rigidly holding the scarlet and black standards of Iserlohn as well as the colors of King Maximus’ Houses, then went to Jerund as the Elf finally arrived at the position made available for him next to Maximus. The two Kings nodded to each other in greeting, and the Gladewatchers fell into place around the Scarlet Sabers.
The pieces are all in play. Let the game begin.
Two demons next to him suddenly hissed out a warning and Adrian noticed his Captain hastily approaching.
Fool.
“What ‘ave you done?” Lucin spit when he neared, his one eye wild with fury.
Adrian’s smile never left his face, and he continued to stare forward at the enemy line. “What did I do?” he repeated. “I traded up. I realized that thirty was not enough for what I needed to accomplish.”
“But…”
He leaned over to speak directly into Lucin’s face. “Now, step back, Captain, or so help me I will strike you dead this very minute.”
Lucin glared at him for half a second longer than was wise and then turned and trudged back to his place with the Cyman Army behind the demons.
“Gentlemen,” said Adrian loudly to cover the hundred paces between the two armies. “By your presence here today, I trust you have received the directives I have issued and are ready to surrender. Although, technically,” he added with a sardonic sneer, “you have until tomorrow to do so.”
King Maximus tore the black and scarlet standard from the bearer next to him and thrust it into the air. “The Army of Iserlohn will not surrender, Ravener! We will fight with our last breath until you and your monstrosities are defeated! We fight for Iserlohn!” A thunderous battle cheer went up from the throats of thousands of Iserlohn soldiers. “We fight for Captain Colbie Nash!” Louder cries yet rent the air. “We fight for our lives!” The King let the yells continue unabated for several moments while his Lords and Ladies raced down the line and delivered his words.
When it was quiet once more, Adrian said mockingly, “Very well. Let it be known that the King of Men has chosen death for himself and his soldiers.” Even fr
om the distance that separated them, Adrian could see the King’s shoulders draw back. He knew that if there was one thing a righteous old goat like King Maximus feared, it was recklessly costing his men their lives in battle. It was one thing to lose men when fighting on the side of right. It was altogether another to lose men by making wrong decisions.
“King Jerund J’El, what say you?” shouted Adrian.
The Elven King’s face remained coolly impassive as his calculated gaze fell on Adrian, long silver hair falling over his shoulders from under a burnished golden helmet.
Thousands of men on both sides waited for the Elven King’s response.
“We fight alongside our fellow Massans,” he declared finally. “You are not welcome here, Mage. You are but a pestilence that must be eradicated.”
Another cheer from the Iserlohn Army, but the Scarlet Sabers and Gladewatchers remained silent, quietly deliberating their next move.
Adrian put his hand on his chin as if pondering a difficult riddle. “Odd, that you say that King Jerund, considering that the Elven women have been very eager to welcome us here.”
Hundreds of purple eyes narrowed in unspoken wrath. Adrian knew he had to enrage the Elven Watchers, goad them into acting emotionally and shedding the imperturbable stoicism for which they were notorious. The only way to do that was through their women.
He gestured and a red-eyed demon pushed through the ranks and shoved a young female Elf forward. The girl’s face was bruised and bloodied, her torn tunic hanging from her small body in ragged strips, barely covering her nakedness. The sight of the young girl created an immediate stir of agitation and muttered oaths among the Gladewatchers, their horses dancing beneath them in response to their rider’s distress.
King Jerund held up his hand and glared at Adrian. The old King knew exactly what he was attempting and wanted to settle his Watchers before they acted on the taunt. The King’s gesticulation instantly simmered the situation, and Adrian realized he had to continue to stroke the fire. At another signal from him, the demon shoved the girl into the center of the open space between the armies and threw her to the ground, where she lay whimpering.
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