The Kingdom of Tamarack (Book One in The Tamarack Series)

by Ross Turner

  “I think that’s a very probable outcome.” Zanraith replied to the twins in a cold, set tone.

  “All we can do is hope we’ve got here before the demons have…” Isabel said quietly.

  “Well, we’re about to find out.” Zanriath replied almost inaudibly. “We’re here.”

  They still didn’t know how long they’d been walking for but the mist that clung menacingly around them gradually began to thin. Slowly at first, but then more quickly, and ahead, through the fading fog, a black silhouette loomed. It stood tall, piercing the sky hundreds of metres above them.

  Compii Tower was enormous, made entirely from the same vast, grey polished stone blocks as the bridge. Its base, at least fifty metres square, disappeared into the now murky water and formed the bridge’s second and only anchor.

  The water was much less calm here, lashing at the stone in a black fury, frothing and foaming. Without even asking Isabel knew that the Tower extended to the very bottom of the ocean. She could just imagine the lost Souls underwater grating at the unbreakable stone, cursing the Gods in a sleepless rage.

  As she looked down at the bleakly uninviting and probably deathly cold water she could just imagine the thousands upon thousands of Souls beneath its surface looking back at her. Her stomach turned as she saw a glimmer of something, someone, casting its gaze up at her. Even Zanriath felt her shake as the shiver ran down her spine. He held her close.

  Looking up, Isabel examined the Tower more carefully. Small spires on each corner surrounded a central one, reaching up hundreds of feet higher than the others. The smaller ones were twisted and the tallest was squared off and smooth, like the walls. There were hundreds of small windows, probably just large enough for Ben or Zhack to squeeze through: lookout spots. She wondered if the guards could see through the mist. Had they seen them coming all this time?

  Ahead of them stood an enormous archway leading into the tower, and beyond it Isabel could see a second arch, leading out to yet another bridge, extending far out into the mist.

  “Ok.” Zanriath broke the awe that had come over his three companions. “Something is very wrong. Be on your guard.” His voice was hushed and sharp. They all tensed up and their breathing became shallow. Soon the boys had their hands on their blades and Isabel stared intently ahead at the entrance to the Tower - a giant archway standing before them, open and inviting. Isabel leaned over and whispered to Zanriath, keeping her eyes forward as she did so.

  “What is it?”

  “I can’t feel them watching us.”

  “What do you mean?” She glanced once again up at the hundreds of lookout windows to see if she’d missed anything obvious.” I can’t see anything.”

  “You wouldn’t see them anyway, but they’re always watching.” He cursed almost inaudibly under his breath. “Where are they?” He demanded in frustration. Isabel had no answer for him.

  She found herself grinding her teeth in anxiety. They’d all stopped moving and waited for Zanriath to make up his mind.

  Zanriath cursed foully under his breath once more and made his decision.

  “Let’s go.”

  13

  Cautiously, the four edged forward at a steady pace, eyes darting left and right, up and down, looking for demons, guards, anything. They were very vulnerable on the bridge. It was still no wider and they had nowhere to go if anything happened, but then Isabel supposed it had been designed with that very purpose in mind.

  They now stood in the archway to the enormous tower, an archway at least twenty metres high. Intricate engravings ran up inside the arch on both sides and resembled what looked like vines, growing up through stone to meet at the pinnacle of the vast doorway.

  The bridge hadn’t widened to meet the arch, so it wasn’t all that wide, but as it towered above her Isabel couldn’t help but get the impression once again that they were just a little small and insignificant.

  She still felt eyes upon her as she moved, but not from a demon or guard, though she didn’t know quite how she could tell the difference, instead from the water.

  The inside of the tower was completely hollow all the way up to the very peak of the spire. It was very dark and difficult to see the top; the small windows they’d noticed before stopped as soon as the walls began to slope and close together. Anything could have been hiding there.

  Hundreds upon hundreds of ledges and columns were etched into the walls and continued all the way up inside the spire, each ledge a mere few feet wide. At ground level where they stood the square base of the tower was open and offered no shelter, nowhere to hide. This place was designed for ambushes. It was a hollowed out battleground where anyone entering could easily be overwhelmed. But it seemed there was no one here to spring the attack.

  The suspense of the silence was petrifying and they stood just inside the arch to the tower with tense bodies and alert minds.

  Beads of sweat were visible on Zanriath’s forehead but he was focused, his stance protective of his companions. The boys were breathing quietly, their breaths shallow and nervous.

  Isabel felt surprisingly calm, though a little unnerved by the water, and she maintained her precautious alertness. Zanriath was right. Something here was definitely wrong. They continued to creep forward toward the centre of the tower, directly beneath the giant hollowed out spire.

  Then something sent a shiver crawling up Isabel’s spine, causing her to shudder violently. This time it wasn’t the eyes upon her from the water that betrayed the source of the fear, by now they couldn’t see her, this was something else.

  The shudder was intended to distract her, but she still sensed the probing at the back of her mind. Her eyes widened in sudden realisation and the hole in the pit of her stomach deepened. She screamed a curse and forced her three companions from the centre of the square. In the same instant a piercing shriek echoed all around them and four figures cascaded down from the very top of the Tower, aimed directly at where they had stood. Isabel dragged Zanriath and the twins from the path of their descent with only mere moments to spare.

  The four creatures plummeted to where Isabel had been stood and crashed into the ground, crumpling into sickening heaps of bone and blood. They were robed in black and their faces were disfigured and burned beyond recognition, twisted into looks of constant writhing pain. Their bodies were mutilated and had been violently dismembered. Chunks had been torn from one’s stomach and a mixture of vile looking and equally badly smelling substances seeped out onto the cold, hard stone floor.

  They stared for a moment in disbelief at the sight before them.

  “The four guards.” Zanriath said solemnly, taking a small step closer to look. The scene was an ugly one, but nevertheless their eyes were drawn to it, drawn to those faces.

  And then the same angry shriek echoed through the tower, but louder now, more vicious. Looking up to the spire, Isabel saw movement in the darkness.

  “Look out!” She screamed to the others. In a flash the boy’s hands were on their blades and Zanriath was poised, ready to strike. Isabel too braced for an attack.

  A sleek figure erupted from the gloom, tearing down towards them. Its huge wingspan was fully flexed and muscular. Smooth, black skin stretched over its frame from wingtip to wingtip, giving it the semblance of a hideous bat. Its body was furred and stained with blood, but it was clearly agile and strong. Two evil green eyes bore down on the four mere mortal humans, screeching as they plunged down.

  With their astonishing reaction times the boys were first to respond, launching knife after knife soaring upwards towards the beast. Zanriath followed suit. A thick column of fire erupted vertically from the floor, blazing angry red and violent, answering the demon’s screams with a roar of its own.

  Isabel looked up at the creature, her world slowed strangely and time somehow became less important. Surprisingly, she found herself expecting to pity the poor beast, it was after all just an underling, helpless to the will and threats of the boy, and so also to the will of De
pozi, or so she presumed.

  But when she reached out and touched the demon’s mind, at first not with the intent to harm, she saw not fear as she’d expected, but rather malevolence. An evil that wanted to hurt, wanted to see suffering, wanted death. This wasn’t what she’d thought she’d find.

  She snapped. She suddenly felt a great anger at her discovery, releasing a rage from somewhere deep within her so age-old that it felt as if her greatest and furthest ancestors shared her fury. The deep anger boiled in her soul, focusing her control, even her grip on the perilous reality she now found herself in, time becoming almost non-existent.

  Her composure astonished her. How clearly she could see. Though it was strange - she felt as if the self-control, like the anger, wasn’t entirely hers, as if something was helping her focus. Shrieking in controlled frenzy, the incantations she cast drowned out the beast and the flames. Even her companions drew back from her wrath, sensing the force of her will. Though she protected them, her ferocity still surprised them. She was in control, of the situation at least, but of her own actions she wasn’t quite so sure. And even as she fought and struggled to understand that strange fact, she continued.

  Her thoughts were fast, yet clear, focused, time now at a standstill. The air turned icy cold and the sky darkened, closing in on the beast. The boys’ blades slowed and stopped spinning before falling back to the ground. Zanriath’s colossal column of flames met an invisible barrier and veered horizontally, smashing into the walls of the tower and exploding before finally ceasing.

  It was just Isabel and the beast. Just Isabel and the demon.

  Now mere metres from her the demon could taste her fragile flesh on the air, but unable to move, frozen in its murderous dive, it was stranded, helpless.

  Isabel rose from Zanriath’s side, soaring slowly, inch by inch, through her frozen wilderness of demons and violence. Her eyes met those two green gems of malice, countering her rage. They were but feet from each other, inches now, openly face-to-face, mind-to-mind.

  She felt the demon’s will probing her thoughts, searching for a weakness. They were caught up in their demonic duel, lost without time.

  A smile touched her lips and she stood tall, giving the beast nothing. Watching with satisfaction as an unmistakable agony dawned across its face. She could have finished it there and then, but instead she allowed the creature a moment to suffer in screaming silence at what it saw. Then she ended it.

  The timeless demonic state they’d been caught in vanished as Isabel released her will, obliterating the demon. It was hurled into the wall of the tower, thundering into the stone, shrieking once more, but this time its cries were shorter and higher pitched - shrieks of agony. Isabel hadn’t moved, still she hovered, motionless, the power of her soul crushing the writhing monster.

  It couldn’t hold back the strength of her will. It smashed repeatedly into the unbreakable wall, raking at its own eyes and face, trying to rip her out of its mind and failing miserably.

  In a final act of desperation it launched itself for the archway they’d entered the tower from and plunged into the black waters.

  Then Isabel screamed too. She’d killed the demon, they couldn’t use it, but they still wanted it. They infected its evil mind as a disease would, but she was still there, still inside, she had to get out. The souls wanted her too. She could feel them screaming in her thoughts like a searing wound that left no physical scars, only mental and emotional torture. They etched themselves into the very fabric of her mind.

  “NO!” She yelled at the ocean in defiance, forcing them out with her will. They fought against her, fighting her resistance. She pushed them away, still trying to block them out. With a final exertion she cast them away and exhaled deeply. They were gone. The demon was dead and taken. Its soul cast back to The Demon-Lord.

  Isabel blacked out, falling from the air. Luckily she hadn’t been too high and fell safely into Zanriath’s protective arms. Unconscious.

  It was done. The demon was finished.

  The boys crouched in opposite corners of the tower; each perched perilously on one of the many high ledges. They looked out through the small windows, watching for demons approaching. Isabel slowly came round from her unconscious state and wept quietly and briefly in Zanriath’s arms as she gathered her thoughts.

  Her initial recovery was quick and she was soon able to walk, though she was mentally exhausted. But they could not linger.

  It wasn’t long before they were moving again and taking the bridge to the east, knowing that at any moment more demons could appear. They didn’t want to wait any longer than they absolutely had to.

  They passed under the enormous archway to exit the tower and walked over the words ‘Hinaktor Island’ engraved beautifully into the polished stone floor. Whether a similar inscription had been carved on the bridge to Land Isabel wasn’t sure. She had been too pre-occupied at the time to notice.

  Heading into the mist once again their party remained silent. Isabel had shocked them. Not just because of her powerful attack and how easily she’d defeated the demon, but also by the absolute control she’d shown over it. By the way she’d channelled her anger and made it her strength. They weren’t afraid, but perhaps a little awed by the beautiful brown-eyed girl travelling with them, who seemed to possess an unearthly power that they could not imagine.

  And so they continued their journey in a newly respectful silence. But, as is usually the case, all too soon those thoughts faded somewhat and they trudged wearily through the dim light, tired from walking all day and staying alert to ambush. Luckily their journey from Compii Tower to Hinaktor was uneventful and quiet. Isabel’s feet dragged heavily and seemed to weigh her down more and more with each step. She was soon leaning heavily on Zanriath for support and after some time he was almost carrying her.

  Eventually, much to the delight of Zhack and Ben, the fog began to thin and when it eventually lifted the shores of Hinaktor came into faint view. Even though the mist faded, the light did not return in great abundance. They had walked all day and had not reached Hinaktor Island until twilight. It was strange to think that so much time had passed in the hazy mist, squatting low over the ocean, and that now they were all in unfamiliar territory.

  They were hungry and tired, but they knew they could not stop yet. They were in a strange place and needed shelter. They needed security. The demons could have been anywhere.

  The shores of Hinaktor were not made up of cliffs, rock and grass like many of those in Land, but rather here the mainland gave way to long stretches of sandy beaches, golden streaks extending off along the shoreline in both directions, fading to grey strips in the encroaching night.

  Moving up the beach the sand slowly changed to grass, growing lush and long and extending into fields and plains as far as the eye could see. The setting sun far off to the west cast a dim red glow across the grassy plains and turned them into a swaying ocean of crimson life, welcoming the party of apprehensive strangers to this strange new place.

  From the small viewpoint they had the island looked almost completely flat and Isabel could see no settlements as of yet. The bridge ploughed into the sand and looked as though it continued deep into the very core of the earth.

  The weather was improved and the sky clear. The rising full moon was given way by the setting sun and the brief combination of the two gave them just enough light to see how long their road the following day would be. Hundreds of stars were dotted randomly across the sky, without a cloud in sight, and a gentle breeze kissed calmly at their exposed faces.

  Silhouettes cast along the skyline showed occasional lumps of black littered across the expanse of grass before them, probably copses, Isabel assumed, and little else, the landscape clearly sparse even in the imminent dark of night.

  They would need to find shelter.

  “Zan…” Ben started quietly before Zhack continued.

  “Have you been here before?”

  “What are the people like?”


  “No, I haven’t. I’ve been told the people here like to fight. Competitions, sport, hunting. We’ll find out tomorrow. For now we just need some light and a place to sleep.”

  “Good idea.” They agreed.

  “Will we be safe?” Ben added, clearly a little uneasy at being in such strange surroundings.

  Isabel had stayed quiet. She was shattered from her exertions against the demon and the generations of relentless anger she had let flow through her had drained her strength.

  “What about there?” She suggested pointing off to the far side of the plain. A black clump of trees was just visible in the distance. They all squinted across following the direction she pointed to.

  “Why not.” Zanriath agreed. “Let’s go. We need to move. We’re far too open here.”

  They moved off in single file in tired silence once more, following the edge of the plain they were on and the tip of the sandbank. They’d gone but a mere hundred metres and had all already fallen in numerous potholes before Zanriath had had enough. A small streak of flame shot up at his feet, lighting his immediate path. It was the same blue flame Isabel had seen him use before. It was small enough and low enough to not be seen, yet gave off sufficient light for them to see where to put their feet.

  Their pace quickened considerably with the light helping them to tread more carefully and they soon reached their target.

  In no time at all they’d set up a small camp, eaten, and were sitting round Zanriath’s fire. Within minutes Ben and Zhack were asleep and Isabel soon after, propped back against Zanriath. He smiled warmly as she turned to get more comfortable. She had saved them all today. She was getting stronger, using the amulet to help her channel her energy, probably without even realising it.

  The fire he’d created burned silent and black, so as to avoid attracting unwanted attention, from demons or people alike. He was tired too and welcomed sleep at long last. For some reason his sleep had been starting to come a little more easily. He didn’t question it. It was a welcome relief.