“We needed it to unlock a chest of Shade Stone. King Euthor hid weapons there and also a stone that Pallin took to lead him and Durian to his tomb on the Banished Lands. It's strange though. How could King Euthor know that two Builders would eventually come along at just the right time to free the key and get exactly what we needed?”
“What are you saying?”
“I don't know,” Baron replied. “Durian said before that he was having dreams, like something was speaking to him in the night. I don't know what to make of it really. All I know is that the Soul Stone saw something in me and pulled it out when I didn't even know it was there. How can a rock in the forest do that? Nothing really makes sense anymore.”
“Believe me, I know the feeling,” Estrien said with a hand on his shoulder.
Blair began to stir just behind them and Baron turned round.
“It's about time you wake up!” Baron said. “It's nearly midday!”
Blair sat up quickly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
“No it's not,” he replied.
“Time works strangely near the Illian city,” Estrien added in.
“It does?” Blair asked, astonished.
Estrien chuckled as Blair scrambled to ready himself.
“You're hopeless, little brother.”
The three had a quick meal of dried fruits and meats, then descended the small cliff, stepping onto the grassy forest. The sunlight was warm as it bathed across their faces and the gentle breeze stirred the grasses. A small stream meandered toward them from the pond beside the city, flowing into the mountains and then out of sight.
“This would otherwise be a very pleasant place,” Blair commented.
“You can build a summer home here,” Baron replied.
Blair smirked and Estrien smiled.
“We should be silent,” Estrien said.
“Yeah,” Baron replied. “Can't let the rocks know we're coming.”
It took not long to cross the valley, arriving at the tattered outer wall of the Illian city. Walking toward a large gap, they lingered there at the base of the rubble.
“Do you suppose we knock?” Baron asked.
They ascended the debris of the wall, watching their step as they grabbed hold of the loose rubble. Some of the rock was shards of the Ruhkan Mountain range, while others were pieces of the Illian city, interspersed throughout. Baron was wary of grabbing hold of the rock of the city though he didn't know why. It looked lifeless...inert. But there was something indescribable about the scene, as though the rocks of the Illian city were scattered about in the perfect places to be used as handholds by unsuspecting travelers.
Cresting the top of the pile, they gazed inward at the sprawling city. Baron was surprised at how many buildings were still intact, an eerie replica of Eulsiphion. Everything was peaceful and calm and they waited for long moments before entering the city. Small bits of rubble suddenly slid downward behind them, and they turned in unison to find nothing there but the gentle breeze.
“Come on,” said Estrien. “Stay close. Do you remember the Squall Highlands?”
The two nodded.
“This is much worse.”
The three descended into the Illian city, Estrien with sword drawn, for what little good it would do against the rocks of a city. They reached the bottom of the wall and hesitated again, listening for any sign of life but finding nothing. She moved forward slowly, finding that the inner city had suffered much more damage than the outer structures. An odd odor permeated the air and a strange dust seemed over every surface.
Just then, to their right, they passed a skeleton laid up against the side of a building, its hands clenching its chest as having died suddenly. The three froze at the sight. Was this one of the citizens of the city or some ill-fated explorer?
“Come on,” Estrien said.
They walked for some minutes, the streets growing difficult to traverse. But they had avoided touching the stone of the city thus far. Soon they reached the end of the road where a large, sheer section of the Ruhkan Mountain range over a hundred feet tall lay atop the main portion of the city. Somewhere, buried deep inside, the palace hall of the once great city, and all its regal buildings were waiting to be found. Everything was deathly calm, and Baron's heart began beating faster. They were all on their guard, though nothing at all seemed stirring.
“What do we do now?” Baron asked.
“I don't know.”
Baron walked over and placed his palms on the large stone, concentrating his thoughts to see if anything was different about this stone. The rock before him began to swirl in large pools around his hands and he was surprised by how easily the rock responded to his touch. It was incredible. With his fingertips, Baron carved an indentation into the stone in the shape of a doorway. Then, plunging both hands into the middle of it, the section liquefied and he pulled, bringing a huge chunk of stone away from the wall. He was tunneling through.
But he was struck by a slight spell of dizziness, undoubtedly from exertion. Shaking his head, he continued onward, pulling chunks of stone away and out of the tunnel. Baron dug at a slight angle upward, letting the liquid stone flow out behind him like a lava flow, solidifying again instantly when it moved beyond the range of his power. Deep inside the chunk of mountain, the dark tunnel shrouded his vision.
As he worked, something strange began to happen. His imagination took flight as though he were lost in a daydream, and he saw sights of the early days of the city, the Builders harvesting rock from the mountains and forming new stone. But unlike a daydream, he was conscious of his thoughts, though unsure of their origin.
“Blair are you seeing this?” Baron asked.
But Blair didn't respond. Baron turned round but saw nothing. Only dark. A spell of dizziness hit him again and the images in his mind grew until they felt more real than what his waking eyes perceived. He felt weightless, as though floating. The images in his mind faded and all turned dark. He was paralyzed and couldn't move. But then suddenly, he felt the sensation of falling and hit a cold stone floor. Pain shot through his shoulder where he landed and he felt the cold of wet stone beneath his fingertips. All was pitch black. Where was he?
“Blair! Estrien!” Baron called out.
Neither responded but Baron was surprised to find that his voice echoed as though he were inside a large cavern. He groped about in the darkness for the wall and the tunnel he had been making. He felt the cold touch of the rock wall. He placed both hands on the rock wall and concentrated his thoughts. But the wall remained unchanged, unresponsive to his ability. Baron began to panic. How had he gotten separated from Blair and Estrien? One minute, he was tunneling through the rock and the next minute had somehow traveled to the other side.
But light began to emanate from behind him and he turned round. Just a few paces away, a pool of liquid color glowed in the darkness. Then, starting subtly at first, a mesmerizing display of color from every stone around him lit up the landscape. Flowing streaks of color pulsated amid buildings that still stood intact in the massive cavern, alive with rhythmic reds and blues, as though they were bathed in liquid fire. The pool ahead of him was pulsing, beckoning to him somehow. Baron gazed at it, entranced by it. He took a step forward.
Meanwhile, Estrien and Blair were calling out for Baron in vain. He had been tunneling through the large chunk of mountain but had suddenly disappeared inside it, as though swallowed by it. The wall had solidified behind him, and try as he may, Blair couldn't manipulate it. They stood halfway down the darkened tunnel with nowhere left to go.
“What do we do?” Blair asked.
Estrien placed her hand on the wall and began speaking in the ancient tongue. But then, with a cry, she shot her hand away from the wall, and gripped it with her other hand in pain.
“What happened?” Blair asked.
“We have to find another way inside.”
With that, they came back out into open air. Estrien ran northward along the huge stone, looking for a bre
ak. But before she found one, the large chunk of mountain ended in a large pile of rubble against the mountain range with no way inside. But it looked as though there may have been an opening not far above.
Estrien began to climb the rubble, Blair close behind. Moving quickly and carefully to avoid the stone of the city scattered everywhere, when they'd come up about ten feet, Estrien's foot slipped on a loose rock and she grabbed hold of a large piece of rubble of the city for stability. The rock flashed bright red when she touched it, burning her hand.
In fright, Estrien jerked her hand back toward her, but quickly lost her balance. Blair burst forward to catch her. He grabbed her, but both went tumbling down to the city street below. Blair hit the ground hard and felt the wind knocked from his lungs. He tried to draw a breath, but nothing came. Estrien quickly picked herself up from the ground and extended her hand down to Blair. Blair still couldn't breathe.
He tried pushing himself up, but pressed his hand against one of the loose lying stones of the city. Unknown as yet to him, the stone had softened and enveloped his hand. Finally, Blair drew a long breath. He went to stand up and felt a tug back toward the ground. Glancing down, he saw his hand completely encased in stone. It was heavy, but he stood to his feet and lifted the stone from the ground.
“They're using your power against you,” she said. “The same as they did with Baron. You must concentrate and overcome them. Don't panic. It will only aid them.”
Blair closed his eyes and took deep breaths. He concentrated on the beating of his heart, felt the blood flowing down his arms and into his hands. He felt the rock soften a bit around his palm. But then, he felt the stone squeeze back, felt it harden even more than before, threatening to crush his hand. Blair cried out in fright, raising his hand to smash it against the chunk of Ruhkan Mountain range.
As the rock made contact with the sheer wall, it didn't shatter or bounce off. Rather, it seemed to stick, the chunk of mountain around it beginning to swirl, the stone sinking into it, along with Blair. Blair looked over to Estrien with wide eyes and reached out his free hand. She took it, but Blair was forcibly snatched away from her, disappearing suddenly into the mountain face of the rock wall. Estrien screamed out his name, but he was gone. She was now standing alone in the middle of a desolate city, her heart racing.
Leave
A haunting and ethereal voice seemed to emanate from all around her. She spun round, sword drawn but nothing and no one was there. She heard rustling in the distant places beyond where she could see.
Leave or die
Estrien closed her eyes and worked to calm her thoughts, sheathing her sword. Then she sprinted south along the massive mountain face. There had to be another way inside. Estrien felt despair well up inside of her. When she had touched the rubble of the shattered city, her hand had been scorched, as though she had touched fiery metal. But in that moment, she also saw a flash of a vision of Baron, dead in the corner of some forgotten building. She knew they meant to do the same to Blair. They should never have come here. None of them would ever leave this place alive.
Meanwhile, Blair couldn't move but felt himself being propelled forward against his will. His body seemingly paralyzed, nothing he did mattered, no amount of struggling or concentrating. But then, suddenly, he was falling, hitting the ground with a hard flop, again stealing the breath from his lungs. He lay there, eyes squeezed tightly shut, his mind swimming in dizziness.
But as he opened his eyes, what he saw surprised and amazed him. He was in a massive cavern, with whole buildings still intact. But more than intact, they were alive with flowing colors of vibrant reds and blues, greens and yellows. It was like the colors in Eulsiphion but much more vibrant, flowing and changing. To his right, a pool of color sat and to his great surprise, Baron was standing waist deep in the colorful waters.
“Baron!” he called out and rushed over to him.
But Baron didn't respond, and Blair slowed in his approach, wary of coming further, and stopping shy of the small pool.
“Baron?”
Baron turned round and looked up at Blair, almost confused to see him. His eyes were a steely blue-gray, and his gaze was distant and haunted. Blair's heart beat quickly.
“Hello Blair,” said Baron.
Baron cocked his head to the side as though listening for something.
“Baron, we need to leave,” pleaded Blair.
Baron didn't answer him, but gazed afar off toward the darkened cavern beyond. Then a surprised look appeared on his face.
“Leave?” he said. “No, we're not leaving.”
Blair clenched his jaw. Something very terrible was happening. Baron extended his hand to Blair.
“Step into the pool.”
The End of the Search
The group was in the southwestern region of the Maelstrom, not far from the northern tip of Thob Forest and the lands of Forthura. Sheabor, Straiah, Gwaren and Bowen had ridden hard for the better part of a week, gaining ground on the Bearoc war party. But as the landscape changed from bare earth to the grassy plains of Forthura, the tracks that had once been barely visible were now such that a child could follow them. But more than the broad indent of the Bearoc was visible in the trampled ground. Imprints of hooves and armored boots were scattered roundabout. The giants had gathered quite a following.
The group rode the full of the day and into the night, the horses grunting their exhaustion. Near midnight, they finally came to rest in a small grassland near a stream where the horses could find food and water.
“These are the borderlands between Forthura and the Horctura,” Bowen said. “The barbarian's main fortress, Trakhendor, is close by.”
“That seems strange,” Straiah said. “Surely the giants would never attack a stronghold. That's suicide, even for them.”
“I'm surprised they've even ventured this near it,” Bowen replied. “Seems foolhardy.”
“Perhaps they're trying to draw them out into the open,” Gwaren said.
But even as he said it, he didn't seem to believe it. Nothing made sense.
“If we keep gaining ground, we may overtake them tomorrow,” Sheabor said.
“Or run headlong into a barbarian patrol,” Bowen replied.
Things were getting out of control. One way or another, everything was coming to a head.
“We better get some sleep,” Sheabor said. “I have a feeling that for better or worse, tomorrow will give us the answers to all our questions.”
Sheabor took first watch, huddling against a stone for warmth, the stars raining a chilling light down on the grasses. After a few hours, he nudged Gwaren from slumber and fell fast asleep himself, but all too briefly as Straiah shook him awake at first light. Muscles sore and stiff, the ate a quick bite and set off.
Darkness turned to dawn as they rode on heightened alert, listening and looking for anything amiss in the distance. Sheabor was playing a dangerous game, trying to make up ground, but needing the horses fresh for battle. Agur seemed to sense the change in tension from the four riders, for Sheabor had a difficult time keeping him from speeding up the pace.
But then, something sounded out distinctly from the great beyond – the clang of metal against metal. Sheabor held up his hand and stopped his horse. More sounds of battle erupted, faint and far off. This had to be the giants.
The group moved forward as one, weapons unsheathed. Sheabor made for a small hillside, opposite which the battle raged. Who was fighting? Had the giants lured the barbarians out into the open? If so, which side would the four aid? He couldn't believe the giants were somehow bent on wanton violence.
Sheabor's heart beat hard in his chest as he and Agur ascended the small hill. Cresting it, the battle came into view. Sheabor's heart sank, hoping against hope to find something other than what he saw. Over a hundred barbarian warriors – archers, footmen, and cavalry – had all but surrounded a war party of giants. Many of the barbarians already lay slain along the ground, and more than a handful of the Bearoc.<
br />
“What do we do?” Straiah questioned.
Sheabor didn't reply. For the moment, they hadn't been spotted. They could wait out the battle until the numbers became more favorable. But the battle was turning ill for the giants. If they did nothing, they might never discover what had sent the giants on a rampage through the barbarian kingdom.
“Sheabor, we need to make a decision,” Gwaren said. “Do we support the Bearoc or not?”
Sheabor clenched his jaw.
“Do your best to drive the barbarians away,” he said. “But if the giants attack us, do not hesitate to strike them down.”
The group charged down the hillside, quickly spotted by some of the barbarian archers, whom they were now flanking. Turning, they loosed arrows toward them and the few that found their marks bounced harmlessly from their Shade Stone armor.
Sheabor and his warriors were in their midst before another volley could be fired, striking many of their archers dead before the rest of the warriors broke ranks to engage them. Archers were no match for armored horsemen and began to flee before them. Whether or not they'd turn back and reengage was yet to be seen.
A dozen horsemen of the Horctura, armed with broadswords, charged them with a yell. The four darted to meet them, Sheabor raising his shield to meet the powerful swing of the muscular barbarian, which nearly knocked him from his horse. Agur spun round of his own accord, raising his hooves, kicking ferociously at the barbarian warrior. Straiah and Gwaren had each slain a warrior, but Bowen was in distress, fending off a pair of assailants.
But something caught Sheabor's attention – a dead warrior on the ground, clad in darkly colored armor that was different from the barbarians. Though appearing metallic, its construction seemed similar to the Shade Stone armor he himself was wearing, as though something from the old world. Who was this warrior and how did he come to be slain in the field? With no time to ponder, Sheabor took another blow to his shield, and stabbed forward, felling the warrior. Then he charged to help Bowen, catching one of the two warriors off guard, and then dispatching the second.
The Banished Lands- The Complete Series Page 38
