The Flame Weaver

by Elicker, Tania

  “Yes, Cap’n,” the man answered as he and the other soldiers began reluctantly exiting down a long tunnel.

  “Wait!” Avin called on second thought. “Just a moment, Rovenolt.” Taking a slow step toward E’enna, he put a gentle hand to her face and wiped the soot from her cheek. “You, too,” he smiled softly. “I want you, and your friends to follow this man. He will lead you to safety.”

  “You’re going to need our help,” she answered. “We’re staying with you.”

  “I cannot allow it.” Avin shook his head. “It is my duty to make sure you are safe.”

  “With all due respect, Captain,” Shanks said, “we’re not bound by your orders. You can go on about duty to your heart’s content, but you still won’t get rid of us.”

  Sighing in defeat, Avin grinned helplessly at these new and loyal companions. “All right, then. Let us make haste.”

  Falling in step behind Avin, E’enna and the others drew their weapons and hurried through the main corridor. Just as they were about to enter the far passage, a shattering blast suddenly rocked the hills. Thrown to the ground, E’enna shielded her face as dirt and rock showered down on her. The heavy wooden beams, which lined the ceiling of the hall, cracked and splintered, releasing a sea of sand and clay down into the chamber.

  The east wall exploded in a spray of rock and wood as a whirlwind of winged creatures burst through the weakened wall. E’enna and the others huddled to the ground as the beasts flooded the cavern, their piercing screeches resounding endlessly through the long halls. The icy chill brought by the creatures was like daggers to the heart, and the stench was more terrible than anything imaginable.

  A handful of figures emerged through the veil of flapping beasts. Five men with flailing swords hacked their way through the nipping creatures, Dullin leading the charge. Having already suffered badly at the claws of the menacing beasts, he fought with his last remnants of strength. He, and the men who followed him, battled fearlessly, and had almost made it past the wall of flying creatures when one man was suddenly swept up in the current. Lifted into the air and swarmed upon by the shadow-beasts, his muffled cries were quickly silenced as he was shredded to bits. Diving to the ground, Dullin and the remaining men scurried on their bellies over to where E’enna and others huddled.

  “Captain!” Dullin cried over the shrieking of the cursed beasts. “Hounds have broken through at the northern bend! We are cut off from the east hill! I sounded the horn, but I do not know if the call was heard!”

  “There is nothing more you can do here, Avin!” Ilagon hollered over the ruckus. “We must fall back! These soldiers are injured! We must get them out of here!”

  Avin scowled in a rage, rising to his knee and clutching his sword in his fist. “I will not leave my men behind!”

  “They are already lost!” Ilagon declared. “Let us save what few we can!”

  Leaping to his feet abruptly, Avin slashed futilely at the throng of creatures with a cry of his own, catching one of the beasts and skewering it on the tip of his sword. “Dullin!” he growled through clenched teeth.

  “Yes, Captain!”

  His chest heaving in anger, Avin gazed down at his feet. “Let’s get these men out of here.”

  The injured men did not need much encouragement to rise to their feet and run. The warren collapsing all around them, they, along with E’enna and the others, raced through the maze of twisting tunnels and crumbling caverns. Frenzying bat-creatures flooded through the passageways, biting and clawing at them at every step, while the snarls and heavy footfalls of shadowhounds closed in from all directions.

  The foundation quaked beneath their feet, tossing them to the ground again and again as some great force above pounded the hills. Solid ground beneath their feet crumbled to sand, swallowing their feet and hindering their stride as in some terrible nightmare. The crawlspaces leading to the Watcher’s dens all glowed with the orange flame of dragonfire, and plumes of black smoke wafted through the passageways.

  Blinded and choked by clouds of smoke, E’enna clutched onto the tunic of whatever man trailed before her. She slammed into his back as he, and the party in front of him, suddenly stopped. Avin pushed aside a large tapestry, which hung upon the wall before them, revealing a long and narrow tunnel. Snatching a torch from the wall, he struck it and tossed it to Dullin.

  “Hurry!” Avin ordered. “Lead them out! The hounds are not far behind!”

  Dashing into the tunnel, Avin’s men followed Dullin.

  “And where are you going?” E’enna demanded of Avin.

  “I’m right behind you,” he assured her, giving her a gentle nudge into the tunnel.

  Sloping gradually up, the passage was musty and black, the only light coming from Dullin’s bobbling torch. Tangles of roots pierced through ancient sculptured steps, and dilapidated wooden beams bowed under the weight of dirt and rock. Every few paces, along the wall of the passage, clay jugs dangled from metal hooks.

  Behind her, E’enna could hear Shanks and Avin’s hurried steps, and behind them, the growing howls of the pursuing hounds. E’enna peered over her shoulder to see Avin methodically smashing every jug with his sword as he passed them. A sickening smell filled the passage, burning her throat with every breath.

  “Faster!” Avin commanded them. “They are right behind us!”

  Racing madly up the long tunnel, E’enna had almost begun to think it an endless subway when she suddenly felt the cold touch of new air on her face. Tumbling out into the bare night, she stumbled over the bodies of the exhausted soldiers, who sprawled themselves out on the ground in front of the exit. Hoisted to her feet by Ilagon, she squinted into the starless sky, which had not much more light than the black tunnels below.

  “Everyone back!” Avin barked as he exited the passage, the wild snarls of shadowhounds close behind him.

  Snatching the torch from Dullin’s hand, he tossed it down into the tunnel, and with a great roar, the passage was instantly set ablaze. Blinding flames lapped out from the burrow, sending the company reeling backward from the intense heat. The hounds yowled and wailed as the flames consumed them. Black smoke from their wretched bodies wafted into the night air.

  Scanning the scape before her, E’enna could not help but catch her breath in despair. The escape tunnel had led them quite a distance away from the valley and let them out atop a steep hill. They were high enough that she could look down and see the total destruction they had left behind. The vale burned with the flames of dragonfire. The great beast had perched itself smugly atop a high mound of rubble in the center of the madness. All around it, shadowed figures pranced and trotted, darting in and out of the unguarded grottos. Bodies of men lay scattered about the valley. Some burned while others were picked over by greedy hounds and winged scavengers.

  Turning back to their band of survivors, E’enna saw that they had been joined by another handful of Halifexians who had escaped the destruction. Very few had made it out: including herself and her company, twenty at most. It was the end of the world all over again, just as she had seen it years ago in Fierra Del.

  His face swathed in the light of the terrible dragonfire, Avin glared coldly down at the devastation before him. His heart void and his body numb, even the warmth of E’enna’s presence did not touch him as she neared, placing a timid hand on his wrist. Tears rolled down her face as she moved as if to speak, but there were no words to comfort either one of them.

  “It seems we will travel together, after all,” Avin said with an icy hiss in his voice. “You seek to find a friend, and I seek to kill a traitor.”

  “Where will we look for them?” E’enna whispered through tears.

  Avin’s face twisted into a bitter scowl. “We will follow the road of a traitor. We go east, to Rassadoth.”

  Chapter 23

  Kazen opened his eyes to a stark, gray world. Floating as if on a cloud, the land and sky passed him by like a rolling river, cold and dismal. Weightless and numb, he drifted in a
nd out of vague awareness. Darkness ceded to light and color as his vision slowly cleared. Sound returned to his ears, unrecognizable at first, and then more familiar, he recognized the steady clomp of sure feet on graveled soil. He could see the ground moving below him, through bleary eyes. A painful groan rumbled harshly from his dry throat, and he suddenly felt his limp body being shifted.

  Thrown harshly to the ground, he struggled to clear the fog from his head. His body felt heavy and disconnected, and he had not the strength to speak or move his limbs. Hot tears flooded his eyes as the world spun around him in a dizzying blur. Clenching his eyes shut, he buried his face into his shoulder and swallowed back the bitter bile that burned in the back of his throat. Sweating and trembling all at the same time, he felt as if he had been awakened just to die all over again.

  “Can you walk?”

  Startled by the words, and scarcely able to put meaning to them, Kazen curled himself into a tight ball.

  “Too late. They are upon us!” Kazen’s tormentor said.

  Clanking steel and frantic hollering suddenly rang out. Rolling weakly to his side, Kazen could make out only shapes and shadows as dark figures scuffled all around him. Cries of anger and war quickly turned to desperate pleas as one by one the voices were silenced. Soon, there were no voices left at all. A heavy stillness gripped the air as a tall figure loomed over Kazen’s huddled body. Feeling himself being hoisted into the air, he peered back through heavy lids at the fallen bodies of at least half a dozen ragged men before slipping back into unconsciousness.

  Waking again from his poisoned slumber, Kazen stared into a bleak and starless night sky. Though his head pounded and his limbs burned and tingled, his thoughts were at last clear. Taking in his surroundings cautiously, he dared not move even his head. Flat on his back, he gazed into the familiar swirls of looming shadow above him and the swells of rocky, barren hills around him. Wilted stumps of wasted trees jutted up from the ruined valleys. Beside him, a tiny campfire struggled to fight off the biting chill, which gnawed at his bare hands. Stripped of his cloak and armor, he had only his thin clothes to shield him from the bitterness.

  A powerful figure sat slumped against a hollow log at the edge of the firelight. Mumbling quietly, the man’s one hand tapped absently on the hilt of a slender sword, while the other twitched uncontrollably at his side. Kazen gasped as the memory of his last waking moments flooded back to him. Instinctively, he reached for his sword, but his hands were tightly bound together and secured to a rope around his waist.

  “Ah! You’re awake, finally,” Kane’s cold voice cut through the still air. “I had begun to think you might not recover from the poison.”

  Scrambling clumsily to his feet, Kazen backed away, muttering a poetic chant. However, much to his surprise, the magic did not answer his command; instead, a jabbing pain stabbed his heart, folding him over and sending him floundering to the ground, writhing in agony.

  “Well,” Kane said, chuckling darkly, “it’s good to know the amulet really does work. You won’t be using any magic so long as that talisman hangs from your neck.”

  Groaning and gritting his teeth, Kazen squinted through teary eyes as the pain slowly passed. Looking down at his chest, he saw a large golden amulet hanging from a gold chain around his neck. The medal was round and flat, and about the size of his fist. Dulled by age, and pounded to a rough edge, it was rather unremarkable except for the brilliant red gem set in its center. Immensely heavy for its size, the talisman pulled tautly on the gold chain, digging the links painfully into his neck.

  Kane knelt before the fire and poked at the dwindling embers with a stick. “I understand that with each attempt at casting a spell, the amulet brings the wearer closer to death. I suggest you don’t try to use your magic again.”

  “What do you care?” Kazen snapped, struggling to a sitting position.

  Kane turned his head and shrugged. “I don’t. But you may be worth slightly more to me alive than dead.”

  “Where are we? What do you want from me?”

  “Where are we?” Kane snorted. “Where we are is irrelevant. There are no borders beneath the shadow. There are no kingdoms or communities left to speak of. Halifex, Gulford, Rassadoth. They are all vanished and forgotten. The world is turning to dust.” He turned a cold eye to Kazen. “As for what I want from you, it is the same as what my cousin wanted, and what all those wide-eyed fools wanted from you.”

  “I have done nothing to harm you. Why are you doing this? Are you so weak that you have already succumbed to the shadow?”

  His question was answered with a swift blow to his cheek. Bowled to the ground, the sting of Kane’s knuckles subsided to a throbbing ache as a stream of blood trickled from Kazen’s lip.

  “As always,” Kane snarled, “you speak of things you know nothing of.”

  Kazen picked himself up once again. “But you are taking me to the enemy. That is what you are doing, is it not? If not madness, then what? What did Gregore offer you? I want to know what price buys the allegiance of a Halifex officer.”

  His face contorted in anger, Kane towered over Kazen, both of his hands now twitching fitfully. “You should choose your next words carefully if you desire to continue breathing.”

  “I do not fear your wrath,” Kazen retorted defiantly. “If you wanted me dead, you would have killed me already. And if it brings you pleasure to best me while I am bound, I will not hinder you.”

  Glaring down at Kazen with fire in his eyes, Kane suddenly burst into a fit of insane laughter, ultimately stumbling backward and landing on his backside. Quieting himself, he ran a trembling hand over his tired face. “You didn’t really think you could do it, did you?” he finally said with a slow shake of his head. “Avin told me all about the ridiculous myth of the Flame Weaver. Bah! Wizard or not, you are still just a boy. One boy against an army of shadow. I’m only one man, and look how easily I have defeated you.”

  Kazen glared back with a fire of his own. “One treacherous deed of a trusted ally is more potent than a siege of a thousand demons. Whatever it is that Gregore promised you, he will not deliver it. He will kill me, and then he will kill you.”

  “My life does not matter.”

  “Then what does?”

  Kane grew still and quiet, his gaze drifting to some faraway place as his face softened for the very first time. A smile, almost tender, touched his lips, and an unexpected tear rolled down his cheek. “There is one light that still shines in this world, brighter than the sun. It is all that matters to me. You are going to help me assure that light will go on.” Shaking his head of whatever memory he had lost himself in, Kane scooped his water skin up from the ground and took a long drink. From the corners of his mouth, a black sludge dribbled down his chin. Sighing contently, as if he had refreshed himself by a cool stream, he wiped the filth from his chin and shoved the skin in front of Kazen’s horrified face.

  Black bile bubbled up from the mouth of the vessel, frothing as it touched the cold air. Kazen shook his head vehemently, fighting back the urge to gag at the awful stench. Incensed, Kane hurled the skin to the ground, splattering its vile contents all over Kazen’s face.

  “My kindness is limited!” he growled. “You will beg on bent knees for your next drop of water!”

  Wiping his face on his shoulder, Kazen spat out a drop of sludge that had spattered onto his lip. “It’s poison that you drink, not water. Gregore has deceived your eyes with his dark magic.”

  Dropping his shoulders, Kane chuckled sardonically. “Your foolish trickery will not work on me, boy. Drink or thirst, it matters not to me, but I tire of your nonsense. Morning will be upon us soon and we will be moving on. Do not think of escape, for it will only result in swift pain. I have not slept in as many days as I can remember, and I have lost all desire to dream, so don’t believe you can slip away while I rest. My eyes are on you at all times.”

  As Kane huddled down under his hooded cloak, the last rays of light succumbed to a murky dusk.
Shivering in the cold night air, Kazen strained to see through the blackness but could make out nothing beyond the frail ring of firelight. A greater darkness settled over whatever land they had crossed into. Not even a whisper of starlight or sallow moon survived the crush of shadow. So thick and prevailing was the dark that Kazen feared to be touched by it, afraid that he would once again be swallowed by blackness.

  Turning his back to Kane’s watchful eyes, he slumped sourly into his shoulders, shrugging and squirming against the biting chain around his neck. Tentatively, he tugged at his restraints, but the knots only tightened as he pulled. Already, his wrists were raw and bloody, and his fingers had begun to numb.

  Kazen did not know how long he had been unconscious, but judging by the growl of his stomach he guessed it was more than a day. If only he could see a single star or even a faint horizon, he would attempt to slip away into the night. But in such darkness, even if he somehow managed to slip past Kane’s vigilant watch, he would likely find himself stumbling into a pack of hungry demons before daybreak.

  Curling himself into a ball beside the meager campfire, he wondered what had become of his friends. Surely, he thought, they were already out looking for him. Ilagon, especially, would not rest until he was found. But what if they were looking in the wrong place? Or even worse, what if they thought he was already dead? Kane was mad, but clever. Kazen would not put it past him to have set such a stage as to avoid a search party ever being sent out at all.

  Unable to hold back a flood of silent tears, Kazen pulled his knees tightly to his chest. He had finally bungled things to no repair. Just when he had begun to feel the first inkling of faith in his own strength, he allowed himself to be taken in by a deceitful handshake. There was no coming back from this mistake. He would likely be dead by tomorrow’s end, and his friends, with their brave hearts and noble spirits, would continue on their impossible quest without him.

  Swallowing back his tears, he closed his eyes and prayed for sleep. He no longer feared his nightmares, for his waking moments now filled him with equal dread. His every thought was haunted by the image of E’enna’s pale face and soft hair, which brought him no reprieve, only filled him with greater despair, knowing he would never again see her.