Alora: The Portal

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Alora: The Portal Page 18

by Tamie Dearen


  Without a thought, Vindrake stretched out his hand in anger. Ferrister writhed on the floor, clutching his throat as Vindrake squeezed off his supply of air.

  “Sire! Wait, Sire! You need him! You need him to find the portal and open it for you.”

  Vindrake dropped his hand, observing dispassionately as Ferrister gasped aloud, gulping in precious air. Vindrake flipped his hand, brushing both of them out of his abode. “Call me when he’s located the portal.”

  Malphas dragged Ferrister to his feet, and they scurried out the door like rats.

  Weak people. He was surrounded by weak people. All were paralyzed with fear. So few had ever shown more than paltry resistance when directly threatened by his power. So few. He could count them on one hand. Wendelle. Kaevin. Alora. The Stone Clan girl with the wild blond hair. And of course… his brother.

  *****

  Dark circles underscored Alleraen’s eyes. He slumped against a wall, his features eerie in the dim light filtering through the high slotted window. “Drakeon, I no longer wish to call you my brother.”

  “Alleraen, I told you, Father’s death wasn’t my fault. Barristae fought with him and killed him with Father’s own blade. I only avenged his death when I killed Barristae.”

  “And why would I believe you? Anyone who opposes you is chained in this dungeon, only to be released upon swearing fealty to you in some strange blood ritual. I assure you, I’ll never do it, so you may as well kill me now. When you do, I promise my spirit will remain behind and haunt your every waking moment. And your dreams as well.”

  Vindrake felt a shiver ripple down his spine. “There’s no such thing as haunting spirits. You don’t believe such a thing. We both know our spirits go either to eternal salvation or damnation when we die.”

  “No, Drakeon. You’ve lost your conscience. So God has told me my spirit will never leave your side. I’ll always be there to remind you of His condemnation.”

  “Be silent! I don’t wish to hear your lies!” But Vindrake’s new gift of judging told him his brother’s words held no deception. Could it be true? Had God truly abandoned him to such a fate?

  Perhaps Alleraen was deluded. Yes, that must be it. He was distraught over their father’s death, and he’d imagined this conversation with God.

  “You know I speak the truth. I’m not afraid of you, Drakeon. I should be angry but, right now, all I feel toward you is pity. You’ve turned your back on everything Father taught us. Unless you stop this madness, you’ll die a lonely, friendless man.”

  “Ha! I won’t be lonely or friendless, for certain. Already, I have more than fifty who’ve sworn to be faithful to me. You are alone here in this dungeon since the others have chosen to follow me. More join the ranks each day. Unite with me, Alleraen. Together, we can lead Water Clan to be the greatest clan in history.”

  “Together? You would share your power with me? You would give up the place you claimed as leader of Water Clan?”

  Vindrake choked. “I can’t give up my place as leader. It is my destiny. And with my new-found gifts and the knowledge contained in the Maladorn scroll—”

  “That scroll! This all started because of that scroll! It’s changed you, Drakeon. Can you not see? It’s evil, and it’s making you evil as well.”

  “The scroll is nothing but recorded knowledge. Knowledge is knowledge… it cannot be evil or good. As long as I use the knowledge of the scroll with good intent, it isn’t evil. That’s precisely what I’m doing. I’m using the scroll and my new gifts to better serve Water Clan.”

  “No, Drakeon. You’re blind to the truth. You aren’t using the scroll. The scroll is using you.”

  Vindrake felt blood pounding in his ears. “Speak no more!” He turned his back to Alleraen, intent on escaping his accusing words.

  “Wait, Vindrake! It’s not too late. Come away with me. Let’s venture across the sea… as we dreamed when we were children. Leave Water Clan. Father is gone, and I have no heart to stay here.”

  Vindrake’s feet froze to the ground as a lump formed in his throat. He turned slowly, blinking his watery eyes. The idea was enticing. He could forget everything that had happened. “Just you and I?”

  “Yes, you and I. We’ll go far away and start anew.” Alleraen dragged himself to his feet, his expression earnest.

  “Do you really believe we could do that?”

  “I do.”

  His words were truth. Vindrake’s resolve wavered.

  “We should throw the scroll in the ocean.” Alleraen paced, his chains rattling on the stone floor. “Or burn it. Thus we’ll be certain it doesn’t fall into another’s hands.”

  “No!” Vindrake screamed the word, panic welling in his chest. “The scroll is mine. I won’t destroy it. I’ll protect it with my life.”

  With a cry of despair, Alleraen leaned against the wall, his legs crumpling until he reached the floor. He sat still, unseeing as a wooden statue.

  “Alleraen, don’t you understand?”

  “Go away. Or kill me now.” He turned until his condemning gaze locked with Vindrake’s. “I don’t even recognize you. My brother is gone. Forever.”

  *****

  “He’s located the portal opening, already?” Vindrake hadn’t realized it would happen so fast. He wasn’t prepared to begin an incursion to the other realm.

  “Yes, Sire. He found the portal in the bathing pool between your chamber and the one where Wendelle was once kept under guard.”

  “Of course!” Vindrake recalled the circumstances surrounding Wendelle’s imprisonment. Her secure chamber was close to his, separated only by the cavernous bathing pool. “She frequented the pool and was occasionally allowed to bathe unaccompanied since there was no unguarded exit and the caverns were warded to prevent transport.”

  Hmmm. I might have executed an undeserving guard sixteen years ago when her escape was discovered. No matter.

  “I thought perhaps you might wish me to go through the portal and scout the realm at the other end for you.” Malphas’ beady eyes squinted as he wrung his hands together. He seems much too eager. Will he move beyond the control of my bloodbond once he passes through the portal? Can he be trusted?

  “No, I shall see it with my own eyes. Where is Ferrister? I wish to leave immediately. When I return, I’ll make an assault plan.” Vindrake almost missed the sneering twitch of Malphas’ upper lip. Perhaps I should consider moving another shaman into the chief position.

  “I told Ferrister to wait at the portal entrance.” Malphas’ cackle raked across Vindrake’s nerves. “He may have drowned by now.”

  With a glance to assure himself the precious scroll was locked inside the chest, Vindrake slipped through his rear doorway, hefting with his shoulder to close the weighty wooden door behind him. Emerging into the bathing chamber, the flickering torches illuminated the face of the diminutive Ferrister, bobbing in the water near the rear of the pool.

  “Thank… goodness…” He sputtered, splashing his hands. “I don’t believe I can stay afloat much longer.”

  “Why are you treading water out there?” Vindrake growled.

  “Malphas… told me to wait… right here.” He coughed a mouthful of water.

  “Don’t be ridiculous! What good are you to me if you drown before you show me the portal entrance?” Without a thought Vindrake stripped off his boots and tunic, holding them over his head to keep them dry as he waded across the pool. But two steps into the water, he heard a gasp from the side. He whipped his head around to catch Malphas stumbling backward, gawking at Vindrake’s chest.

  A quick downward glance revealed the source of Malphas’ obvious terror; the six-horned image etched on his chest was glowing. That the creature glowed was no cause for alarm, since it was a common occurrence. But the glow was blue—a color corresponding to a dangerously low level of energy.

  How did I not notice my weakness before? The decision was simple. Not only would absorbing a life source replenish his stores efficiently, but Malph
as’ death would also eliminate the possibility of him sharing his observation of the inkless tattoo. The fact Malphas had become irritating of late was merely an added bonus.

  *****

  After Steven’s announcement, the group buzzed with excited discussion. Alora noticed Arista edging to the door. Not that Arista was in any danger if she went outside, but Alora knew she wasn’t dressed for the biting cold of a Montana winter.

  “Hey, Arista, you don’t want to go out there until I lend you a coat. I have boots, too, but they’re probably too big. We may need to buy some things for you.”

  “I need to… I’ve got to go outside. But I don’t know where to go.” Arista’s face glowed pink.

  “Oh! You need a bathroom.”

  “No, I’ve no need to bathe. I simply need to relieve myself.”

  Alora laughed, grabbing her arm and leading her down the hall. “You’re gonna love this. It may be the best invention we have in Montana, especially when it’s ten degrees outside.”

  Her slight headache almost forgotten in the wake of Arista’s surprise and delight at the demonstrated wonders of modern plumbing, Alora returned to join Kaevin. She knew, without asking, his pain had also dissipated. It seems like we’re getting more and more in sync. I can almost feel his emotions. Is it the soulmate bond or does that happen to all couples when they spend a lot of time together?

  “Daegreth doesn’t appear very enthusiastic about Steven’s announcement.” Kaevin’s remark drew her attention to Daegreth, who sat, stiff and tight-lipped, still strapped to the chair.

  “You’re right. He looks perfectly miserable. Maybe he’s just shy. Or maybe he needs to use the bathroom. I just sent Arista in there; you should have seen her. I think she flushed the toilet ten times.”

  “I could ask him if needs to go.” Kaevin gave her his cute lopsided grin, highlighted with dimples.

  “I guess they have some safe way of taking him without untying him altogether.”

  Kaevin answered with an emphatic shrug.

  Alora sought out Wesley’s mom, pulling her to the side, away from the jovial conversation about possible grandma and grandpa names.

  “Karen, I think maybe Daegreth needs to go to the restroom. I mean, I don’t know, but he definitely looks uncomfortable. I figured you guys had some safe system worked out.”

  Karen screwed her mouth to the side. “Brian usually just cuts him loose and guards him with his gun and then ties him back up. I think it’s ridiculous. Daegreth would never hurt us, and I can’t believe Brian would actually be able to shoot him anyway. I think he just holds the gun to make Daegreth feel better about it.”

  “Well, if Vindrake’s bond were working, Daegreth really would be dangerous. I don’t think you understand how powerful my father is.”

  Alora followed Karen into the kitchen. Rummaging through a drawer, Karen snatched out a pair of scissors and waved them in front of Alora.

  “Got ‘em. I’ll go ask Daegreth if he needs to go, and offer to cut him loose for a minute. If he refuses, I’ll wait until Brian has time to stand there with his gun in hand.”

  Karen marched toward Daegreth’s chair, arriving just as he spilled the contents of his stomach on the floor beside him. “Oh, Daegreth, I’m so sorry.” Karen spoke in a soothing tone, feeling his head with the back of her hand.

  Alora hurried to tug on Brian’s sleeve. “Daegreth is sick. Your wife is cutting him loose so he can go to the bathroom. I guess you need your gun, right?”

  Brian’s heavy sigh confirmed his lack of enthusiasm, but he drew his weapon and joined his wife as she finished snipping the zip ties around Daegreth’s ankles.

  “This is silly,” Brian grumbled to no one in particular. “The poor boy is sick. He needs a doctor not a gun pointed at him.”

  Karen cut the zip tie from his left wrist, gingerly stepping over the splattered mess on the wood floor. “If we’d known you were sick, we wouldn’t have kept you tied up like this. Do you want to go use the bathroom and then go lie down in your bedroom?”

  “Yes, please.” He forced out the two words as if a great effort were involved in speaking.

  *****

  Vindrake could see only Ferrister’s oddly disembodied head peering out from inside the portal. Then his hand snaked out, guiding Vindrake into the portal opening. Slipping on the dry tunic, Vindrake was glad he’d carried it above the pool of water. At least part of my clothing won’t be sopping wet and sticking to my skin.

  The inside of the portal was rectangular, tall and narrow, and the tunnel stretched a short distance before curving to the left. Though Vindrake couldn’t quite reach the ceiling, he could easily touch both the smooth, cool passage walls at once. No visible light source explained the shadowless glow of light throughout the portal.

  An ornately carved wooden door covered the portal entrance. Experimentally, he pushed on the handle, and the door swung open, once again revealing the cavernous bathing room. Though the bottom of the opening lay several fingers below water level, the water didn’t spill inside the portal. Tugging the door closed, he turned to Ferrister, who waited in silence.

  “I’m surprised to find a door with intricate carvings inside the portal,” Vindrake remarked as he donned his boots. “Seems a waste when few will ever appreciate the workmanship.”

  Ferrister made a raspy sound, followed by a fit of coughing. “Is that what you see, Master Vindrake? I only see a plain wood door.”

  Vindrake wondered at Ferrister’s reply but refused to query him, unwilling to admit the old man had knowledge of which he was unaware. Without another word, Ferrister turned, leading the way down the narrow curving hallway.

  “Have you been inside a portal before?” Vindrake couldn’t hide his curiosity. He’d never before considered the possibility of other realms… realms that could hold endless resources for Water Clan.

  “Y-yes, Sire. I… I…” Ferrister gave a little cough. “I’ve been inside a portal once as a child, but it led to a mountain cliff, covered with ice and snow.” Ferrister trudged with shuffling steps, forcing Vindrake to shorten his stride.

  “Let me lead the way.” Vindrake shoved Ferrister to the side, treading quickly down the winding passageway while Ferrister struggled to keep up.

  As they walked, the ceiling dropped lower and the tunnel narrowed. Vindrake felt his heart speed up as beads of sweat rolled down his neck, despite the chill in the air. The sides closed in until he wondered if the walls might entrap him.

  “We should have reached the end of the portal by now,” Vindrake muttered.

  Vindrake’s face slammed into something hard, stopping his progress. He screamed in pain, reaching for his cracked nose, when Ferrister crashed into his back and knocked him against the wooden door again. Vindrake yelled out a stream of curses.

  “You fool!”

  “Forgive me, Sire!” Ferrister dropped to his knees. “I didn’t realize we’d reached the end.”

  “Never mind.” Vindrake palpated his tender nose. “Just open the door. At once.”

  “Yes, Sire.” Ferrister pushed on the heavy wooden door, opening up to a field of white. “I fear this world is frozen, much like the one I saw as a child. It may very well be that no one can live here.” He grasped the handle to close the portal door.

  “Nonsense! It’s perfectly safe.” Vindrake placed his boot on Ferrister’s rear end and gave him a firm shove. With a wobbly cry, Ferrister tumbled out, flopping into the snow.

  Vindrake stuck his head through the open door, the shock of cold a blessing against his clammy skin. He scoured the snow-covered landscape, spying a strange steaming pool of water, but no sign of other humans close by. Stepping outside, he ignored Ferrister who was struggling to stand up. He moved to the edge of the steaming pool of water, examining the colorful deposits decorating its floor.

  A loud gust sounded as water spouted into the air, as high as three men. Ferrister cried out, losing his balance and falling back to the ground. The tower of water
stood for more than twenty breaths, until Vindrake tired of counting.

  When the water collapsed, Vindrake walked around the pool to the opposite side where the water tower had formed. Could this be a display of power by a shaman from this realm? He twisted his head around, wary of possible attack. But no sound emerged from the countryside blanketed in snow, save the periodic pulsing of steam from strange vented slots in the ground near the pool.

  Vindrake ordered the floundering Ferrister to wait for him outside the portal while he explored. Starting toward what appeared to be a path between the trees, he found walking in the snow difficult, sinking to his knee with every footstep. Vindrake shivered from the cold, compounded by his wet pants, yet he forged ahead. Emerging from the trees into another clearing, he found the velvety snow in pristine condition, no footprints marring its surface as far as he could see. Neither could he see any sign of settlement, even to the far horizon.

  Disappointed, he returned to find Ferrister huddled at the water’s edge, taking advantage of the heat radiating from the steamy pool. Perhaps he’s not as daft as he appears.

  “I’ve seen enough for now. Let us be off.” Vindrake pondered his observations as he followed Ferrister on the return trip, which seemed to take longer than their earlier travel. Ferrister established a quick rhythm, wheezing with every step, but Vindrake concentrated on his ruminations until the noise was barely noticeable. Nor did the ceiling seem low or the passage narrow. By the time they reached the portal opening at the bathing pool, Vindrake had a plan.

  *****

  Daegreth knew the moment it happened. Perhaps it was the shock of Vindrake’s dark presence in his mind after such a long absence. Or perhaps it was the devastating loss of hope after learning he had a new family. But either way, his stomach rebelled. Cold sweat broke out on his forehead, and he battled against waves of nausea. When he finally turned his head to vomit, he found Karen beside him, cutting off the zip ties binding him to the wooden chair.

 

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