A bright light stabbed through the dark and I fought to get to it.
“Taryn? Wake up,” Alric said. There was enough concern in his voice that he might have been shaking me for a while.
“I had a dream…it was so real.” Shaking my head did nothing to dispel the lingering images. The coldness in the eyes that had surrounded me was terrifying.
“Are you going to be okay? Do you need to talk about it?”
Covey had told me that in her studies, she’d found that some elves believed dreams were powerful and showed us where we were in life. Alric wasn’t one of those elves. For him to ask if I needed to talk about it was strictly a sign of how he felt about me—not because he thought the dream meant anything.
“I’m going to be okay. It was really disturbing, but it’s fading now.” Looking over his shoulder, I saw they’d set up a small camp. “So we’ve stopped for the day?” Judging by the sky, we’d ridden through the night and a good portion of the next day.
“We’re within walking distance of the Spheres.” He helped me up and I noticed both Bunky and the gargoyle were gone. “Nasif created a spell to travel here and we found it pulling back to its place of destination a few hours into our trip.”
“So he made a spell and sent them all here? How’d we get in it if it was closing?”
Padraig stuck his head into the wagon. “Because someone has more guts than education and figured we could chance it.” The scowl he threw at Alric was tempered by friendship, but he shook his head at him. “Those spells aren’t used anymore because they are extremely dangerous. Not only to the people conducting them, but also to anyone who gets caught in the receding tail. Depending on how long the trip is they can take days to dissipate.”
“And you thought we should jump in it?” I was half-glad I’d been asleep when it happened. The echoes of my dream made me wonder which would have been worse though.
We stepped out of the wagon. Padraig had gone to the other side of the small camp and was putting together three packs.
“It was a calculated risk,” Alric said with a pointed look at his friend’s back. “I recognized what it was as we started following it. Whatever his reasons for taking them, Nasif and the others would have been four days ahead of us if we hadn’t. There’s no way to know what could have happened to them in that time.”
“I’m not going to say anything more about it, except that next time you decide to do something bone-headedly stupid give me more warning. I almost couldn’t catch you.” Padraig handed each of us a pack. “We have to hike in from here; the ground around the Spheres is too sensitive for horses and wagons.”
“Have you been out here before?” I knew few people had made the trip and came back to tell the tale, but obviously some did or there wouldn’t be any big academic books on it hanging around. I would have thought mention might have been made if Padraig was one of those lucky folks.
“No, sadly. I was setting up an expedition for it when I was attacked, before our battle with the Dark. But I did a lot of study on them. The Spheres themselves are massive, but part of the spell, or spells, that destroyed the Ancients, weakened the ground around them. The sand is unstable.”
I slipped the pack on my back. Bunky and the gargoyle were waiting for us at the edge of the small clearing that made up our camp. We were clearly still in the desert, but there were a fair number of waist-high shrubs. They would at least provide a windbreak for our camp. There were also some boulders, but the ground around them wasn’t friendly and was covered in small, sharp rocks. The horses were picketed and had food and water nearby. In case we didn’t come back, was my guess for the large size of both.
“So, in this research, do they say why the Ancients made these things?” We’d come around one of the boulders. The desert spread out before us. At the far end a purple haze showed where the other mountain range was—the one closest to Beccia. Between it and us were the massive Spheres.
In open spaces like these and with nothing else around, it was difficult to determine true size. They were huge. Six round boulders almost crowding each other in a semi-circle. The only large gap was a large pile of small stones. If the rumors and myths were true, that was the seventh Sphere—the one that had shattered when the Ancients were destroyed.
Padraig led the way through the sand. A hard trail lurked under the shifting sands but it wasn’t easy to see. There were tales of travelers who had been swallowed by these shifting sands in an instant. Alric stayed behind me, and although neither of them said it, I had a feeling they were both protecting me from whatever Nasif didn’t want me there for.
“It is believed that they were a focus for power and were in use long before whatever calamity befell the Ancients. Remember, this entire desert was a green and thriving land. The gapen trees grew easily three times the size of the ones around today. Beautiful towns filled the land and they were at peace with everyone.”
“Except the syclarions,” Alric said, but he kept his voice low. He was in his element now, slinking about, looking for someone doing something bad. Although his real element would be as the one doing something wrong.
“That does appear to be true, although there were scholars who debate that. It would keep with what you mentioned before; that a thousand years ago the syclarions had rumors of the Ancients somehow weakening their entire race.” He froze and I barely stopped in time. Alric, of course, had no problem stopping without hitting me even though he was right on my heel.
Padraig looked at something off the hard path and low to the ground. It took me a moment to realize what he was looking at, I believe in part because I couldn’t wrap my head around it. In the deep sand to the right, a chunk of hand-shaped rock stuck out. It was only seeing the rock fingers, and at least three more hands near the first that made me realize those had once been people.
“I need you both to keep your heads down and eyes averted as we slowly start making our way back.” Padraig’s voice was its usual calm self, except for the tiny bit of tension I’d heard. “There are more on the other side, so try not to look in either direction.”
“What is it?” My bigger issue was why did I want to know? There was something bad out here, something that killed by turning presumably innocent people into stone. We needed to retreat to fight another day.
“The basilisk. The rumors appear to be correct—this relic is alive. Or probably not alive in our sense, but like the constructs. And doesn’t like people coming this way.”
I glanced at the hands sticking out of the sand. My heart dropped to my feet. “Are these Covey and the others?”
We slowly stepped backwards. Alric led the way since he was now first, but he stopped and put his hand on my back. “I don’t think so, and neither does Padraig.”
Padraig’s few seconds of silence told me I wasn’t the only one thinking it. But lying was the better side of not having your travelling companion do something stupid. If I truly thought everyone else was gone, we all knew stupid actions on my part would be following.
“I agree with Alric. Those people have been here a long time to sink that deep into the sand. Even though the ground isn’t terribly sturdy here, they wouldn’t have gone that deep this soon.”
He sounded like he was convincing himself, but I was willing to go along for the ride.
The sound of scrabbling on rock-covered sand almost caused me to look up, but I didn’t. It seemed to be coming from all around us, but if it was the basilisk relic, then there was only one. Unless this wasn’t the relic and instead there were real basilisks turning people to stone. Neither option was good.
“I think it is following us.” Granted, we were walking backwards with our heads down at weird angles, so we weren’t making great time. Keeping up with us wouldn’t be hard for a drunken, one-legged satyr, let alone whatever was actually stalking us.
“I know, but hopefully when we get—” Padraig’s voice was cut off as I saw him stumble. My reaction was automatic. I turned, saw a nasty-looking
creature staring at Padraig—who was a moment away from looking up—and I dropped a shield around us. It wasn’t a conscious thought, just a reaction—like you’d jump out of the way of a runaway horse. The coldness from the manticore inside of me flared as the shield formed around us—but it was a welcome chill.
The shield flashed blue as the creature’s gaze hit it—but couldn’t break through.
Padraig caught himself and Alric and I pulled him back onto the trail. He stared at the basilisk, and then turned back to us.
“How is this happening? We should all be stone statues at this point.”
“The magic of Taryn.” Alric’s voice echoed Padraig’s terror though—at least a little.
“They’re both relics, right? Came from the same person, and used in the same weapon. I guess they know each other, or the manticore’s shield really is too strong for even the basilisk’s gaze.” I allowed myself a look at the creature. It was about the size of Bunky and looked like someone had mashed a chicken and an extremely ugly legged-snake together. I now understood the faeries calling it a lizard chicken. A stab of pain hit me at that thought; those hadn’t been the real faeries, and I had no idea where the real ones were.
The creature blinked slowly and tipped its head. It appeared to be confused about why we weren’t stone now.
“I’m glad my weird internal roommate was able to hold this off—but that thing is still staring at us and I’m afraid if we move I can’t keep the shield up.”
“You two keep moving, as the shield falls I’ll place myself to block you both. Get back to the camp and run.” Padraig pulled back his shoulders and took a deep breath. A dramatic tragic hero in the making.
“Nope,” I said. “I’m not leaving people behind. We have to figure out a way to—” My words were cut off as Bunky and the gargoyle swooped in low over the basilisk.
The creature shifted its gaze to both of them. And nothing happened. Since constructs weren’t flesh, I guessed it couldn’t change them to stone either. If it weren’t a matter of life or death for all of us, I’d feel sorry for it.
Bunky and the gargoyle made another pass and this time the basilisk crouched and let out a shrill cry. The gargoyle opened its mouth to impossibly large proportions, and swallowed the basilisk.
All three of us stared in silence. The gargoyle did a victory lap, then it and Bunky flew over to us.
“How did that happen? Where did the basilisk go?” The gargoyle was larger than it had been, but not by much. Certainly not by enough for the one to fit inside the other.
Alric held out his hand and Bunky flew near. “How is this possible, my friend?”
Bunky made a few noises at the gargoyle, who gronked back. Alric nodded.
“He ate it.”
“We saw that,” I said. I really wished I could understand Bunky like Alric and Padraig could. “How did he do it? And is that it? We’re safe now from the relic weapon because the basilisk has been destroyed?” I wasn’t going to complain if that was the case. Heading back to the Shimmering Dewdrop and my normal life sounded wonderful.
Padraig was petting the gargoyle and crooning to it. “He didn’t destroy it, he swallowed it. The basilisk is functioning, but it can’t do any harm to our friend here. So, while we’re safe from the basilisk for now, if someone else gets the gargoyle and can get the basilisk out, there is still a danger from the relic weapon.”
I walked over and petted the gargoyle as well. He might be a metal construct, but, like Bunky, he liked being petted. “Siabiane designed him to swallow things?” That was odd, but he’d seemed quite content with swallowing the basilisk.
“Constructs were all designed with functions,” Alric said. “Bunky seems to hold memories, but we don’t know whose. Most likely the thousands of years buried in the ground jumbled them a bit.” Bunky buzzed over and head butted him. This time, Alric let him.
“Siabiane probably designed the gargoyle to carry things for her. This was a happy off-shoot of that.”
I watched both constructs. To say I was happy they saved us was an understatement, but I wasn’t sure how I felt about the gargoyle carrying around that deadly basilisk. I shook my head. There wasn’t anything I could do about it. We had no place else to put the thing. Maybe when this was done the elves could create a cage or something for it. For now, we simply had to make sure no one startled the gargoyle.
Neither one seemed the least concerned about anything, but Bunky was trying to get us moving toward the Spheres. He’d fly ahead a bit, and then circle back and try nudging from behind. Padraig followed his lead and we made our way past the stone hands.
I wanted to see the Spheres; they were legend after all, and few people could claim they had seen them. But I wasn’t sure if this was the wisest idea right now. “So, if Nasif wasn’t looking for the basilisk, then why did they come out here? And which way did they go if they didn’t become statues?”
“I’d guess they tried to come this way first. It’s the most direct route,” Padraig said as he studied the arms we passed. The field of hands was a lot larger than I’d thought. “Somehow Nasif or Lorcan was able to hold off the basilisk long enough for them to escape. And they went another route.”
“Aside from the Spheres being where Nivinal and Reginald were going, do we have a clue as to what’s here?” I waved a hand toward the distant boulders in question. “Aside from seeing them, that is.”
“Not at all. Nasif was into the relics, but taking our people has to be about something more than just the basilisk.” Alric had been dropping behind us. He quickly caught up as we passed a grouping of large standing stones. He dropped his voice. “Keep going. I think there is someone following us.” With that he ducked behind the stones.
Alric was a great tracker and spy, but how he thought he could hide in the desert—even behind rocks—was beyond me. Not to mention it would be clear to anyone watching us that there were only two of us on the trail now.
We’d been walking for at least fifteen minutes, with Bunky and the gargoyle buzzing by occasionally to check on our progress. The Spheres seemed as far away as when we started.
If this was going to take as long as I feared, I had a feeling I was going to be missing the wagon soon. A crash, punctuated by yells and the sound of a scuffle came from behind us.
“No, stop, you’ll ruin everything!” The voice, even muffled as it was in Alric’s cloak, was familiar. Dueble. “He said she mustn’t come in—you all have to go back immediately.” The form in the cloak thrashed around, but Alric had a strong hold on him.
Padraig and I walked back to the two of them.
“Do you need help?” Padraig didn’t move closer, nor did he sound like he really believed that Alric needed assistance.
“Did you bring any rope?” Alric jerked forward as Dueble tried to break free. He wasn’t successful.
Padraig swung his pack around and immediately brought out a neatly coiled bit of rope. “I did. I think it might have even been Dueble’s so that’s fitting.”
Padraig and Alric removed the cloak and tied Dueble up. Bunky flew down and buzzed menacingly into Dueble’s face. No one messed with his faeries, and Bunky had been as fooled by the fakes as we were. He was not happy.
“You can tell us what Nasif is up to, or we can let Bunky and the gargoyle get it from you,” Alric said as he leaned forward into Dueble’s face. Bunky buzzed even lower.
“Nothing bad! Please keep it away.” Dueble looked ready to cry—not an attractive look for a syclarion. “We have to keep her away from the Spheres. Nasif wasn’t exactly sure until recently, but he knew there was a bad thing engaged around the Spheres. He wasn’t sure who or what was going to trigger it. But then when we saw you again, we knew…well, not exactly…but then Reginald grabbed you and you have the manticore, so it obviously was you.”
Scaring Dueble was going to lead to more babbling and he was already hurting my head. I slapped on my best smile and crouched down to be face to face with him as he sat
on the ground. “I’m not going to do anything to the Spheres, Dueble. They’ve survived for thousands of years; I seriously doubt I could do anything to them.”
“No, you don’t understand. It’s not what you could do to them; it’s what they could do to you. Oh, this is all wrong. Nasif knew there was something different about you—well, he guessed, but over the years he might have found hints and clues.” He looked to each one of us as if we were supposed to understand him. “Nasif knows something will happen. He didn’t want you here until he knew what.” Dueble leaned forward. “He thinks you’ll get turned to stone by the basilisk, but we haven’t seen the creature yet.”
I looked to the other two with a shrug. That at least told us Nasif hadn’t taken our friends down this main path. “We’re fine on that.” The gargoyle flew past us. “I have it on good authority that the basilisk won’t be going after anyone for a while.”
“That was the only reason?” Padraig nudged Dueble when he started retreating into his own thoughts. He came back with a start.
“What? Well, no. That was one of the reasons, but the other was that Taryn gives off a deep time disturbance. Nasif believes it happened when you went back in time.” He tilted his head toward Alric. “He wasn’t sure why you, nor either of us have it though. It could be Taryn’s human nature—they are weaker, you know.”
He grinned at me to take the sting out. There was no sting to take out. I knew most species were far hardier than my human ancestors.
“Well, I’m here now. The basilisk didn’t get me, and I want my friends back. Where are Nasif and my friends?”
Dueble pulled back as if he was afraid that I, of all people, would hit him. “They got captured. Nasif worked the travel spell perfectly. They are almost impossible to control, you realize. But he did his first one without a hitch. However, when we arrived we ran directly into a problem. Nasif saw them coming and threw me out of the spell tunnel right before it closed. It took me a while to find them, but by then it was too late.”
The Golden Basilisk (The Lost Ancients Book 5) Page 32
