by B. J. Beach
He gestured towards the ground in front of them. About one pace ahead, and some twenty paces to either side, a deep crevice little more than two paces across formed a waiting open mouth in the face of the desert.
Areel stepped forward, dropped to his knees and began to lower himself over the lip of the mouth. “There are hand and foot-holds cut into the rock beneath the sand. It is a simple descent.”
Karryl looked dubious as he peered down into the uninviting shadows. “It’ll be a fast one as well if we slip. How deep is it?”
Areel seemed to have no concern for Karryl’s qualms. “You will not slip. Hurry now.”
Following Areel’s every move exactly, Karryl eased himself down, feeling around with his toes for footholds. He found them with little difficulty and was soon making slow but steady progress downwards. After scrambling down several feet he pressed himself against the rock face and cautiously looked up, catching a glimpse of a dark shape some way above him. Cursing vehemently he pressed his face into his upper arm in an attempt to clear his stinging eyes as a scattering of sand dropped into his upturned face. Berating himself for his lapse he clung unmoving until the discomfort had eased then started moving downwards again, pausing at intervals to wipe his tearing eyes on his sleeve. Sore fingers, bruised knees, and protesting leg muscles added further to his discomfort.
He released a shuddering sigh of relief as Areel’s voice, sounding hollow and echoing, carried up to him. “Ten more steps, then stop and do exactly what I will tell you.”
Spurred on by the thought of an end to this arduous descent, and now able to open his sand-scratched eyes, Karryl began to count, and made more rapid progress down the final ten steps. “What now, Areel.”
He thought he heard a chuckle carrying up from somewhere close below him. “Let go and drop.”
Karryl gave a short incredulous laugh, his grip tightening inside the shallow hand-holds. “Is that your idea of a joke?”
Areel’s voice betrayed a note of exasperation, his reply a loud whisper. “The distance is no more than the length of your legs. You must let go now.”
A scraping, shuffling noise just above his head left Karryl with no other viable option. Even risking a glance down over his right shoulder did nothing to improve his confidence. Areel’s dark skin and black clothing had rendered him invisible. Taking a deep breath, Karryl slid his feet out of their toe-holds and clung for a few seconds by his fingertips. His heart in his mouth, he let go. To his relief, it was indeed only a short drop. He still found it un-nerving.
No sooner had his feet touched a firm surface than he felt a tug at his sleeve. “Quickly! Move aside or Magnor will land on top of you.”
The elder’s deep voice echoed softly down. “No danger of that. I can see exactly where you are.”
With only the slightest thud and a minor disturbance of air, Magnor dropped down beside them. “Well, that wasn’t so bad. I’ve found myself in worse situations.”
Karryl rubbed at his arms in an attempt to stave off the chill of the desert night’s air. He hadn’t noticed it during his descent of the rock face, but now his concentration was relaxed a little he was beginning to appreciate how cold the desert could be at night.
He felt Magnor’s hand grip his shoulder. “I have a feeling that all this will be worth a little discomfort.”
A rhythmic rattling noise reached their ears. The two magicians stood perfectly still and quiet as they tried to identify it. After a few moments the noise stopped, to be followed by a short sharp click. Instantly the ground by their feet was bathed in a bright, cold pale blue light. They had arrived on a long jutting ledge barely a pace deep. The figure of Areel was standing two or three paces away, holding the source of the light. Karryl sidled quickly and thankfully towards him, his curiosity fired by the clear unwavering beam of illumination. Before he had chance to investigate further, Areel had turned and directed the beam rear-wards. They were standing in a small cave, barely twice as wide as he was tall, but tapering towards the rear, some ten paces away. The sharp, intense beam showed them a round opening, a throat of darkness within the rock, waiting for them to walk in and be swallowed. Quickly and silently Areel headed towards it, Karryl and Magnor close on his heels. Instilled by the dark closeness of their subterranean surroundings, Karryl’s wariness rose to a new level.
He’d had his fill of tunnels for one day, and he was reluctant to raise his voice above a harsh whisper. “Where are we going?”
Areel continued to stride rapidly ahead without replying. Thinking he hadn’t heard him, Karryl was about to repeat the question when their guide stopped and lifted his mystifying blue light up to head height. “This is the first of the places we must go to. Mark it well, its entrance and exit. Neither is visible from the other. You may well have need of such knowledge if it becomes necessary for you to use this route in the future.”
Karryl and Magnor looked around the large, circular chamber in which they now stood. Above and all around them, wherever their gaze fell, every surface except the floor was completely covered with intricate and highly detailed carvings. Deeply incised into the hard dark rock, straight lines and angular geometric shapes crowded against each other, incongruous amongst the perfectly executed forms of birds and plant-life which in turn jostled for space with seemingly random groups of perfectly executed circles. Recalling Areel’s instruction, Karryl turned round to face back into the tunnel. In an effort to locate some unique form or grouping, he ran his eyes over the carvings which surrounded the opening. Thinking he recognised an unusual shape to the left, he kept his eyes firmly fixed on it.
Making a side-step toward Areel, he held out his hand. “Could I borrow your light for a moment?”
Karryl had been itching to discover the source of Areel’s mysterious light. He could barely conceal a smile of satisfaction when the desert guide handed over a fairly short metallic tube about twice as thick as his finger. Holding the object reverently across the flat palms of his hands, Karryl carefully hefted its weight, noticing at the same time how cold it was to the touch.
As if divining his intentions, Areel murmured to Karryl. “Do not look directly into the light of the torch. If you do, seeing properly will be difficult for some time. Friend Magnor has dark-sight, as do I. You do not.”
Karryl gave a sheepish grin and nodded. Lifting the torch just above his shoulder, he trained the beam on the carved shape he had noticed, and stepped forward for a closer look. At that moment the light began gradually to dim.
Lowering the torch in disappointment, Karryl looked across the fading glow at Areel. “Won’t this magic work for me, then?”
Areel gave a derisory snort. “I think perhaps you are not as bright as that torch. Shake it, as you would a phial of potion. That is the closest resemblance to magic that it has.”
Closely watched by an equally intrigued Magnor, Karryl shook the torch gently at first. Hearing something rattle, he shook it harder until he recognised the sound made by Areel when they had first entered the tunnel. He was sorely tempted to keep on, simply to see how bright the beam would get. Common sense prevailed and he resumed his scrutiny of the carving. Having satisfied himself, he swung the light round the walls, unfamiliar shapes and forms leaping in and out of shadow as the penetrating light passed over them. Despite careful searching, he could find only one repeat of the shape, only a few paces from the first. It was a clear depiction of a strange and ancient building not unlike one he had noticed in Thermera.
Deciding to keep his thoughts to himself, at least for a while, he handed the torch back to Areel. “That’s an amazing thing! How does it work?”
Areel gave it a cursory glance. “I do not know. There are very many of them stored within the city. Eventually, whatever makes them work fails, then they are exchanged, but no-one knows where they came from. It is said that they were a gift from the gods many generations past. Unfortunately there is no proof that this is so. Now, enough talk. We must move on.”
His
soft-booted feet making hardly a whisper on the smooth stone floor, Areel strode briskly towards the section of wall which bore the duplicate image. Without breaking stride the Jadhra stepped straight up to the carved wall and disappeared, plunging his two companions into unrelieved darkness.
Folding his arms, Karryl stared wide eyed in the direction of the wall. “Now that’s a spell worth knowing!”
He heard Magnor chuckle beside him. “No spell involved there. That part of the wall is simply an illusion; trickery. Go on then, or do you want me to hold your hand?”
Knowing he could see him, Karryl scowled in Magnor’s direction. Then something occurred to him. The scowl transformed swiftly to a grin. “Well, as you’re the one with dark-sight, perhaps you’d better!”
His ears caught what sounded like a stifled guffaw then he felt Magnor’s strong fingers grip his upper arm. “What a good idea, Master Karryl. Let’s go!”
Before he could utter a word of protest, Karryl found himself being steered rapidly across the floor and into torchlight.
Areel drew close to them and spoke quietly. “Now we must remain silent as we travel. There are other tunnels leading off this one. Our presence would not be tolerated by those which dwell there. We will travel without light as their eyesight is most powerful, as is their hearing. However, they have no sense of smell. Magnor will have to lead you Master Karryl. We have no time to wait while you fumble along.”
Thrusting his face close to Areel’s, Karryl’s indignant reply was delivered in a hoarse whisper. “If you can spare me a few moments I can provide myself with temporary dark-sight for about half an hour. Will that suit?”
Areel’s basalt eyes glinted in the hard blue glow of the torch. His voice betrayed no emotion. “It will suffice. Do what you have to.”
CHAPTER TWENTYSEVEN
Minutes later they were on the move, Areel in the lead and Magnor keeping a few paces to the rear. Passing quickly and quietly through the dark-sight’s grey haze in a deep purple tunnel, each seemed to the other to be a dream figure in violet monochrome. Although intent on keeping the swiftly moving wraith-like figure of Areel in plain sight, Karryl also noticed the ceiling of the tunnel getting gradually higher the further along they went. As they passed the wide opening of a side passage, a familiar odour began to assail Karryl’s nostrils. A vivid memory flashed into his mind. ‘grelfon’ hammered its way across his brain. The stench was even more nauseating than he remembered, and it was only strength of will-power that prevented him from retching.
Areel’s voice slid swiftly and smoothly into his mind. “Breathe through your mouth. Not much further now.”
After another fifteen minutes of enduring stomach-roiling stench and the miasma of eye-stinging pungent vapours, Areel suddenly turned aside and led them down a narrow side tunnel. A few moments later Karryl detected a cool breeze brushing softly against his sweating cheeks. The floor of the tunnel began to incline gradually upwards, bringing it ever closer to the rough-hewn ceiling. A dozen yards further found them having to bend almost double in order to make any progress, and they were reduced to crawling on hands and knees.
Karryl stopped, hissing through his teeth in frustration as he looked from side, his hands pressed against the wall of rock barring their way. “It’s a dead end!”
Kneeling beside him, Areel murmured a short phrase. Karryl’s skin prickled as a concealing glamour of hard-packed earth and stone chippings melted away to reveal a narrow irregular opening at the base of the wall. Areel eased himself through, lying on his stomach as he reached out to help Karryl wriggle through beside him.
A reproachful grimace twisted Magnor’s mouth as he squinted at them through the hole. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I just happen to be a tad larger than either of you. If I try and get through there, I’m going to get stuck.”
Karryl chuckled. “No you won’t. Come on, we’ll pull you through.”
He reached through and grasped Magnor’s outstretched hand, but it took the combined efforts of him and Areel to help him, puffing and mildly protesting, to squeeze his bulky frame through the opening and into the space beyond.
Their point of exit was at floor level of a large, high-ceilinged empty room, windowless and almost totally devoid of any furniture. The only indications that the place had ever been inhabited were a large brightly patterned rug covering most of the floor, and a heavy wooden chest in one corner.
Areel brushed himself down with his hand then gestured towards the chest. “We must move this to conceal the opening.”
The chest placed to his satisfaction, Areel moved to the centre of the room and with his legs folded under him, sank fluidly down onto the rug. He indicated that Karryl and Magnor should do the same. “Now we can rest for a short while. We are in no danger here.”
Karryl looked quickly about him. “Where are we exactly?”
“Exactly? We are in an empty house in the Hidden City of Vedra, home of the Grelfi, the soulless beings who breed, keep and train the grelfons.”
Karryl was aghast. “Why the blazes have you brought us here? This is the last place I want to be!”
A wry smile played across Areel’s mouth. “If you had not come here now, it is quite possible that, despite your powers, this would be the last place you would ever be.”
Karryl thought about that for a long moment. His jaw dropped as the import of what Areel had just said hit home.
Hands resting on splayed knees, their companion briefly bowed his head as if satisfied. “It was my original intention to explain some things to you before we made our way into the city. Should you decide you have no need of my help, this will have been a wasted journey.” Karryl glared at him, but seemingly unperturbed Areel continued. “Friend Magnor has told me that you are aware of many details of the events which occurred almost a thousand years past.”
Karryl was unable to suppress a fleeting smile as he recalled the meeting with King Vailin and Agmar prior to the uproarious assembly of Ministers, and Lady Evalin’s incontrovertible proof of the real existence of magic. He nodded at Areel. “Yes. Go on.”
The black-clad desert dweller sighed. “My part in this is to help towards the redress of a great wrong that was done, and to prevent an even greater one.”
Eyes wide with realisation, Karryl turned to look at Magnor. “Is Areel the other…?”
Magnor nodded. “Let him tell you himself, if he will.”
As if to emphasise his point, Areel leaned forward, the palms of his hands pressed together. “It is to my constant shame that I am a descendant of that race which persecuted the Grrybhñnös and drove them from their home-world. However, in my defence, I am also a descendant of the clan who aided their escape to the world they now inhabit.”
Karryl frowned at Magnor. The elder shook his head slightly and put a finger to his lips.
Hands clasped, Areel looked intently at Karryl. “The inhabitants of the City of Vedra are also descendants of that race, led by an evil priesthood who covet the power of their ancestors. To obtain that power they must gain possession of four artefacts. They have only one of them. The second lies deep beneath the city of Vellethen, and you, Master Karryl, are in possession of the third. There is little time left before the astral conjunction. It is imperative to them that they have all four artefacts in their possession when that occurs.”
The three sat in contemplative silence for a long moment then Karryl cocked his head to one side. “The medallion and the book must be two of them. I’ve got the book, the medallion’s been stolen, so what and where are the other two?”
Areel gave a mirthless grin. “Even the highest priesthood who have access to the innermost secrets of the Grelfi, do not know their location. The fourth artefact lies somewhere beneath this vast desert, and the other is believed, not without good reason, to be beneath Vellethen. As to what these artefacts are and their potential and purpose, I cannot tell you.”
Karryl gave a thoughtful frown as he used the heel of his hand to rub at
the emerging stubble on his chin. “What will happen if the Grelfi manage to lay hands on all four artefacts?”
Magnor groaned. “That doesn’t bear thinking about. From what Areel has told me, along with other information I’ve been able to gather, it is possible that your world and mine will be reduced to waste-lands, overrun with grelfons, Grelfi and hordes of Vedric-using priests.”
Karryl stared at his burly friend. Although horrified by the possibilities which Magnor had outlined, something else he said had grabbed his attention. “You said ‘your world and mine’. You mean that when you took me to meet with your elders, we were on a world other than this one?”
Magnor leaned back on his hands. “I thought you’d already realised that. Our species advanced greatly with the aid of the Old Ones in the past. Without their teaching we would probably have remained world-bound, and history may have been completely different. Areel and I go back a long way, but that is a different story.”
Areel nodded his agreement. “Indeed. Now, if you are willing Master Karryl, we must concentrate on preparing you, not only to meet your adversary, but also to recover the medallion.”
Karryl managed to look less than enthusiastic. “That’s all very well. I’m fairly certain now, who my so-called adversary might be. As for the medallion, it would help if I knew where to start looking.”
At that moment Karryl’s dark-sight began to fail, but not before he saw Areel cock his head to one side. Their black-clad companion’s basalt eyes glinted. “But I know exactly where it is. It hangs on a chain around the neck of the one you are destined to meet.”
Karryl sat unspeaking, letting the darkness gather round him. The violet hues of dark-sight had given him a niggling headache. He closed his eyes for a few moments taking some comfort from the total lack of light. Only when a red haze insinuated itself through his eyelids, did it register that Areel had turned on the torch.
Slowly Karryl lifted his drooping head and opened his eyes. “And that one is Ghian. I know he had the medallion, because Symon and I saw him in the scrying bowl. Obviously he got someone to steal it for him, but who was he really getting it for?”
