His lungs seizing, Kazen barely had time to gasp for air as a second wave barreled toward him, this time crashing over his head. Lost in a torrent of churning sand and bubbling foam, he tumbled helplessly beneath the furious waves. Caught by the inescapable tide, he was dragged along the rocky bed of broken shells and jagged stones for a painful eternity until finally he was spat back to the surface. Sputtering for air and splashing about in a disoriented panic, he could no longer reach the sandy bottom.
With no feeling at all in his hands or feet, and the rest of his body nearly paralyzed by the terrible cold, it was all Kazen could do to keep his head above water. Having drifted out past the breaking waves, he bobbed up and down, paddling feverishly to keep up with the rising and the falling of the never-ending swells. Looking back at the beach, watching the waves pound the shore, the noisy surf, with all its rage, seemed somehow more comforting than the eerie silence that rolled in from the deep sea.
“Kazen!” Ilagon called, his voice strained. Paddling through the icy water, he met up with Kazen, and together they stared back at the breaking waves that crashed upon the beach. “We have made it past the worst of it, but we must keep moving.”
A sigh of steam escaped Kazen’s quivering lips as he watched in wonder the relentless pounding of the tide. “I have never seen the ocean before,” he whispered, his voice fading to the bitter chill.
Smiling sadly, Ilagon tugged gently on Kazen’s arm. “You will see it again. When soothed by the warm touch of sun, you will find the sea is more beautiful than it is terrible.”
Falling in stroke beside Ilagon, Kazen turned his gaze to Ruin. Rising high upon its jagged perch, the stronghold was a daunting monster, dark and forbidding. The great pillars of rock, which sprouted like pointed thorns from beneath the base of the hold, leaned long and heavy over the rolling sea. Torches set upon the rickety piers illuminated the black ocean, forcing Ilagon and Kazen farther into the deep.
Paddling through the frigid swells, which rose and fell in nauseating rhythm, Kazen struggled to steady his labored breathing. His strength sapped by the gnawing cold, he found each stroke of his arms becoming more arduous than the last. Slapped in the face by an errant wave, he choked on a mouthful of black sludge, which managed to slither down his throat despite all his gagging and spitting. Even worse was the foul stench that steadily grew stronger the nearer they came to their destination.
Blinking away the stinging tears that swelled in his eyes, Kazen suddenly felt his arm brush against something solid in the water. Cringing in revulsion, he watched as the bloated remains of some half-eaten animal floated past him. Another brush against his arm and another carcass, then a surplus of apple cores and chicken bones. Ahead, an entire river of bobbing filth and debris floated along an invisible current.
“At least we know we are on the right path,” Ilagon said with a grimace, pushing aside some mass of spoiled meat.
“I think E’enna was right,” Kazen groaned. “We have not been through worse than this.”
Swiping away another heap of remains, Kazen was shocked to feel something push back. Straining to see through the murky water, he gasped as something large and fleshy slid along his side. Spinning around, he stared with wide eyes as a massive shadow, nearly three times his length, slipped past him, just beneath the surface of the water. Slowly, methodically, it circled the swollen remains of a mangled goat before abruptly pitching its head out of the water, and snatching up the whole carcass in its massive jaws. Kazen could not hold in a terrified yelp as he beheld the monstrous creature, with its countless rows of dagger-shaped teeth, and black, lifeless eyes that rolled away to empty voids as it devoured its meal in a frenzy of chomps and thrashes. Overcome by some primal fear, Kazen reeled away, kicking and splashing as he fled madly from the creature.
“Do not splash!” Ilagon commanded, yanking Kazen close to him.
The words still echoed in Kazen’s ears as a second shadow passed just in front of them, and then a third and a fourth. Pointed fins, grown from the backs of the terrible creatures, sliced through the surface of water, scarcely making a ripple as they circled round and round like stalking wolves. Sleek and gray, the monsters weaved through the water as if on graceful wings, patiently waiting and watching.
“Demons!” Kazen croaked, barely able to contain his desire to flee.
“No,” Ilagon whispered, tightening his grip on Kazen’s quaking body, “they are only fish.”
“I have seen fish before.” Kazen shuddered, shaking his head vehemently. “Those are monsters!”
Another brush against Kazen’s leg sent him into a flutter of panicked splashing, until he was finally subdued by Ilagon’s strong hold on him.
“They are just big fish,” Ilagon insisted urgently. “However, when they are not being fed pigs and goats they probably like to eat smaller fish.” Slowly, he began to paddle backward. “So let us do our best not to act like smaller fish, shall we?”
His muscles frozen by fear, Kazen closed his eyes and forced his trembling arms to unclench from his sides. Pulling himself slowly through the icy water, he strained to quiet the high-pitched wheeze that whistled from his tightened throat with every quavering breath. Biting his tongue to stay a shriek of terror, he fought the urge to kick and splash as one of the toothy beasts bumped him over and over again with its pointed snout. Its leathery hide rubbing past his torso, it circled around his legs like a curious cat, sizing up his worthiness for the makings of a good meal.
As the silent creature gradually sank beneath the waves, Kazen took no comfort in its absence. Unable to see even his own arms beneath the thickening sludge, he was certain the monster still lurked beneath him. Tucking his knees up to his chest, he made himself as small as possible, all the while paddling as briskly as his weakening arms would allow. In the distance, he could see at least a half dozen rigid fins circling about. Every few moments, the calm, rolling waves would erupt in violent splashes as the beasts thrashed their great heads from side to side, ravenously devouring whatever bits of spoiled flesh they could sink their teeth into. Kazen only hoped that the creatures found fat pigs more appetizing than his boney legs.
Rowing backward, keeping a vigilant watch for movement in the water, Kazen could feel his strength failing. Just when he had begun to think he could not take another stroke, he smacked into something hard. Spinning around, he was both relieved and dismayed to see that that had made it all the way to the base of the stronghold. Looking up, he found himself shrinking before the towering walls, which reached up and out, looming like dark mountains. Black and seamless, the walls showed no signs of skilled masonry, just deep crevasses and gouges, as though the entire structure had been clawed to shape by the hands of demons. Rolling waves smacked loudly against the hold, choking Kazen and Ilagon with salty spray, and pounding their bodies against the harsh walls.
“I don’t see an opening!” Kazen hollered over the noise of the breaking waves.
“This must be the spot!” Ilagon insisted, pushing aside a floating heap of reeking waste. “Judging by the amount of debris, if there is a drainage tunnel at all it should be near.”
“Unless they throw their waste from the window,” Kazen said, nodding his head up to the large openings chiseled from the rising walls.
Growling in frustration, Ilagon scanned the arcing walls desperately. “Look harder!” he demanded. “There may be an opening below the tide! Use your feet to feel around!”
Kazen moved himself along the slippery wall, careful not to nick his bare feet on the cutting rock, knowing that the slightest scent of blood in the water might turn some unwanted attention in their direction. Sliding his legs along the structure, it was not long before he felt solid rock give way to a gaping void.
“Over here!” he called. “An opening!”
Paddling over to Kazen, Ilagon did not hesitate to plunge beneath the black waves. His feet splashing out of the water as he dove down, he quickly disappeared into the murky depths, a stream of
bubbles following his descent. Anxiously counting the long seconds, Kazen kept a watchful eye on the monsters that still circled in the near distance. Resurfacing with a gasp and a shake of his head, Ilagon grinned through the film of black sludge that clung to his face.
“This is it!” he exclaimed. “There are iron bars, but there is space enough for us to slip through.”
“Where does it lead?”
“We will not know that until we go inside, but whatever is in there cannot be any worse than what is out here.”
With a deep breath, he once again disappeared beneath the waves.
Glancing over his shoulder, Kazen stole one final gaze at the school of prowling creatures who battled over the last morsels of meat. Both terrified and hypnotized, he found himself hesitant to sink his head beneath the water. Gathering his courage, he finally took a great gulp of air and plunged down into the deep.
Submerged beneath the icy sea, he was immediately disorientated by the rhythmic dance between shadow and light, and the muffled pounding of the waves overhead. Reaching through the mucky water, he felt his way down the wall until he came to a row of barnacle-encrusted iron bars. Pulling himself through the narrow opening, he was instantly lost in blackness. Unable to tell up from down, he felt the paralyzing stab of panic deep in his chest, forcing the precious air from his lungs. It was only the soft touch of bubbles sliding along his cheek that finally guided him to the surface.
Gasping and spitting, the first thing that Kazen noticed, before he even opened his eyes, was the horrible stench. Reminiscent to the foul stink outside the walls, it was ten times as potent. The smell of rotting meat and human waste, all locked within the confines of the tight tunnel, made for a wretched odor that neither Kazen nor Ilagon would soon forget.
Another set of iron bars hung an arm’s reach over Kazen’s head, littered with decaying animal shells and other unrecognizable debris. Beyond that, a long tunnel stretched straight up for several stories, a faint light flickering down from somewhere above.
“More bars,” Kazen mumbled, giving the poles a testing shake. “These are tighter than the others. We will have a hard time squeezing through.”
“I think I could squeeze through a rat hole if it meant getting out of this frigid water,” Ilagon joked, his blue lips quivering. “You first. Give me your sword.”
Slipping out from his sword and sheath, Kazen grabbed onto the bars and began to pull himself up. Shocked at how little strength he had left in his arms, he promptly plopped back down into the water. “I’m sorry,” he panted, embarrassed at how easily he had been defeated. “I just need a moment to get my strength back.”
Grabbing onto an iron rod with one hand, and scooping Kazen up by the back of his shirt with the other, Ilagon heaved him out of the water. “You will not get any stronger wading in this icy water,” he grunted. “Now pull yourself up!”
With Ilagon’s help, Kazen pulled as hard as he could, finally slipping his head through the tight gap in the bars. Wiggling and cursing, he painfully slid one shoulder through and then the other. Swinging his leg up through the gate, he pulled himself all the way up, only momentarily finding himself awkwardly wedged in by his back end. He flopped face down across the iron gate, exhausted and shivering.
Passing up Kazen’s sword, and laying his own across the iron gate, Ilagon pulled himself up, squeezing his head through the bars and then trying to force his shoulders through. However, at nearly twice Kazen’s girth it seemed an impossible task. Dropping back into the water, he angrily ripped the shirt from his back and tried again. Using the slick wall as leverage, he heaved and squirmed, desperately trying to squeeze himself through as Kazen pulled futilely on the immovable bars from above.
“I cannot get through,” Ilagon finally admitted, slipping back down into the icy water.
“There must be a way,” Kazen insisted, kicking at the thick rods with his bare feet.
“It is no use.”
“No,” Kazen shook his head. “If . . . if we pull together we may be able shift one of these rods enough . . .”
“The gate is solid,” Ilagon maintained, his body trembling from the cold. “If we had ten men, perhaps, but we do not.”
“The walls, then! These walls are made of rock! Use your magic to move them!”
“I can only command living rock, Kazen,” Ilagon argued weakly. “These walls have long been dead.”
Rubbing his hand over his face, Kazen growled in frustration. “All right, then,” he finally conceded. “We will find another way in. I’m coming down.”
“No,” Ilagon said, slipping his sword over his back, and shoving Kazen’s foot back above the gate. “You will continue on, and I will find another way.”
“What?” Kazen asked, almost chuckling at the absurdity. “You are not serious.”
“It is time for us to go our separate ways.”
“It most certainly is not!”
Reaching through the rusty gate, Ilagon placed a hand on Kazen’s wrist. The hardened stare of the resilient warrior melted from his face, leaving behind the kind eyes of a father and friend. “We have always known this quest was about you. Prophesies or not, you have the soul of the Flame Weaver within you, and it is you who has the power to end these days of darkness. You are the one who needs to go on, not I.”
“Please, Ilagon!” Kazen begged. “Do not ask me to go on alone!”
“I ask nothing of you,” Ilagon said, his face slipping to sadness. “I cannot choose your destiny for you. Whether for light or shadow, the end of your journey lies somewhere within these walls. You have only to decide whether you will go forward or turn back.”
Resting his forehead upon the cold iron gate, Kazen let the spray of splashing water wash away the tears that welled in his eyes. “There are monsters in the water,” he sniffled. “You cannot go back out there.”
“They have better things to chew on than a sinewy old wizard. Besides, I have not come all this way to end up as supper for some overgrown fish.”
Huddling into a ball, Kazen stared into the rolling black water beneath him. “I’m afraid,” he admitted bitterly.
“As am I. But it is fear that keeps us alive; do not resent it.” Unable to cling to the iron gate any longer, he dropped back into the frigid water, cringing as the icy cold crushed his body. “I must go now, before I have not the strength to make it back to shore.” Looking up at Kazen, so frightened and alone, he felt his own heart bursting with sadness. “I swear to you, I will find another way in. But do not wait for me, do you understand?”
Kazen nodded silently, watching as Ilagon slapped his chest, trying to move the blood through this body. After several deep breaths, he gave a quick nod to Kazen and then took a great gulp of air.
“Wait!” Kazen cried, reaching his arm through the rusty gate. “Ilagon, wait!” Taking up Ilagon’s hand, he squeezed tightly. “You should know . . . I have been proud and honored to have had you as a father.”
Smiling, Ilagon gripped his hand in return. “When you were young I had often wished that I could have truly been your father. But today, I think I am just as proud to call you brother.” Reaching through the bars and patting Kazen affectionately on the back of the head, he plunged back into the water and swam to the exit. “Move swiftly,” he called back. “Our friends are still counting on us.” With a fearless grin, he finally turned and disappeared beneath the black sea.
Chapter 28
Sprawled out across the iron gate, Kazen listened numbly to the cadenced slosh of waves beneath him as he stared into the long, dark shaft that stretched above him. Slightly wider than the length of a grown man, the stone channel was round and roughly cut. If not for the terrible stench, Kazen would have felt as though he were lying at the bottom of a deep well. The walls were coated in slime and moss, and a constant trickle of bile and scum dribbled down the deep crevasses. A flicker of orange light, shining down from a far portal, was all that lit the dim chamber.
Kazen pulled himsel
f to his feet, trembling against the cold walls of the dark shaft. Listening to the sound of his own shivering breath echo against the stone walls, he was sure he had never felt more alone. Glancing down at the waves beneath him, and then up at the slick walls before him, he felt truly trapped. There was no going back, and going forward seemed almost impossible.
Sliding his hand over the uneven walls, he traced a path with his eyes that seemed to offer the best promise of solid footholds, though even the deepest was little more than a finger’s grip. Reaching up, he dug his fingertips into the mossy wall and hoisted himself up, cursing the cold for sapping his strength. He curled his bare toes around the slippery rocks, pushing himself up and hugging his body to the wall. Stretching his arm high over his head, he felt around for another handhold. Just a bit higher, he thought, leaning onto the tips of his toes. And then his foot slipped out from under him.
Clawing futilely at the wall, he tumbled backward, landing headfirst on the iron gate. Slammed hard onto the solid rods, the world seemed to turn black for a moment, and all he could hear was the ringing of the vibrating bars beneath his head. Gradually his vision returned, accompanied by throbbing pain in the back of his head and neck. Rubbing the lump on his head, he slowly wobbled to his feet, propping himself up against the cold rock. He glared up at the long shaft above him, his fear replaced by anger. Like Ilagon had said, he had not come this far to be defeated so easily.
Once again digging into the rock, he began to pull himself up the sheer wall. He inched his way up and up, clinging like a fly to the slippery stones. Following the easiest path of footholds and jutted rocks, he zigzagged his way up and sideways, and even back down when absolutely necessary. Only once was he foolish enough to look down, nearly losing his footing when he saw the bottom of the channel had disappeared into darkness.
The Flame Weaver Page 36
