The Cessation of Karrak: Ascension III (The Karrak Trilogy Part Three Book 3)

by Robert J Marsters

  “Hang on just a minute,” said Hannock. “How is he supposed to get back? Can’t he take a sword with him or something?”

  “No, Captain, he can’t take a sword with him. Jared isn’t going anywhere physically, therefore he cannot carry anything with him.”

  Jared paused, “Hold on, Hannock might have something there.”

  “That’s me,” chirped Hannock. “Full of good ideas.”

  “You’re full of something,” mumbled Drake.

  “I can’t carry anything, but if I imagine I’m carrying something won’t it appear in the dream realm?” suggested Jared.

  “What good do you think a sword will be!” exclaimed Emnor.

  “I wasn’t thinking of a sword,” said Jared, reaching out, “I was thinking of this,” he added, carefully taking Emnor’s staff.

  “It’ll be of no use to you, Jared. That staff belongs to Master Emnor, it will only respond to him,” said Harley.

  Jared’s eyes flashed as he raised Emnor’s staff. As magnificent as it was, surely its power would lie dormant unless wielded by Emnor himself. Gazing at the runes that had been so lovingly engraved along its shaft, Jared smiled as it began to hum! Tiny sparks were seen to dance along its length, spreading to Jared’s hand as if fusing them together. Jared shivered as the front of his tunic began to twitch as if some small beast was trying to escape its cage. Suddenly the fabric was ripped apart as the medallion he so proudly wore tore through and protruded horizontally as if being pulled by an invisible hand. The chain which held it became more and more taut, its links cutting into the back of Jared’s neck and drawing blood. Hannock rushed forward and thrust his dagger upward without thinking. He was shocked at how strong the chain was, but with a surge of strength he managed to eventually break it. As it travelled the short distance, the delicately crafted setting that housed the Heart of Ziniphar shattered, before the gem itself slammed into the head of the staff.

  None present would witness what was about to happen. They shielded their eyes from the blinding light that was suddenly emitted by the staff. The humming ceased, the room fell silent, and all was calm once more.

  It was a few moments before any of them spoke, the silence broken by Drake, “STUFF ME!” he yelled, “What was that all about?”

  Reaching to the floor, Emnor picked up a part of the setting that had housed the Heart of Ziniphar, “I think my staff has a new adornment,” he said quietly.

  “Are you alright, Jared?” asked Hannock, concerned by the blood on the prince’s collar, “Let me see.”

  “I’m fine, Hannock,” replied Jared, seeming slightly dazed. “It’s only a graze.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that, Your Highness, if you don’t mind. Producing a clean cloth, Hannock began dabbing at Jared’s neck. A look of bemusement swept across his face. Wiping harder at the blood, he shook his head, “Nothing!” he announced, “There’s no wound, not so much as a scratch. How…?”

  Jared shooed him away, “I’m fine,” he repeated. “Stop fussing!”

  “May I take a look?” asked Emnor, gesturing toward the staff.

  Jared seemed unnerved by Emnor’s request, “It’s fine,” he replied. “No harm done. You know what it’s like? There are always little surprises when you’re dealing with magic,” he added with a fake laugh.

  “Nonetheless, may I?” repeated Emnor.

  All eyes were now on Jared, he actually seemed reluctant to hand the staff to Emnor. Realising the attention that was upon him, he stepped forward, “Of course,” he replied shakily, “it is yours after all.”

  Emnor took his staff warily and placed it on a table, scrutinising every inch of its length until he reached the head. The Heart of Ziniphar had not simply fused itself to the staff, it seemed that the staff had actually parted and allowed it into its core. The jewel had always possessed a shifting centre, but now was completely different. It seemed alive, a swirling torrent that was mesmerising. Now, it was time for the test that would prove to Emnor what he believed had taken place. Raising the staff as he had so many times before, he pointed it at Hannock. He chanted a few words and pushed his hand forward slowly.

  “What are you doing?” yelled Hannock, “Don’t point the blasted thing at me, I’ve seen what it can do.”

  But his fears were unwarranted, nothing happened.

  “Mm,” Emnor didn’t seem surprised. Beckoning Jared to join him, he handed him the staff. “Do me a favour would you, Jared?” Jared slowly took the staff and waited for Emnor to finish. “Destroy that chair over there. Try using the staff.”

  Moments before, Jared had not wanted to hand the staff back to its owner. However, now handed it freely, Jared felt a little uncomfortable, “Why?” he asked innocently.

  “A test, Your Highness, merely a test,” replied Emnor, smiling.

  Jared shrugged his shoulders. He pointed the staff at the chair but before he uttered a single word, the chair was incinerated. It barely had time to produce a flame before it was nothing but a fine smattering of soot.

  “Is that what you were trying to do to me?” bawled Hannock, “You were weren’t you? You were trying to fry me, you mad old sod!”

  “Of course not, Captain. I would never do such a thing,” replied Emnor, feigning innocence, but with an amused smirk on his face.

  “You’re as mental as his brother!” Hannock continued, “I don’t know who’s more dangerous, you or him. At least I’d know to be on my guard if he were around, but you lot…” he paused, staring at the floor momentarily, “I need a drink, a large drink. You lot stay away from me, I’ve had enough of your insanity for one day.” True to his word, he marched across to the bar. Uncorking the nearest bottle, he scowled at them before flopping into a chair.

  Drake sniggered as he leaned across to whisper in Harley’s ear, “I think he’s a bit upset.”

  Harley sighed, “Master Emnor, what’s this all about? What happened?”

  “It seems the Heart of Ziniphar wants to protect our prince.”

  “So, it decided to join with the staff to enhance its power?” suggested Jared.

  “But the staff belongs to you, Master Emnor. It cannot be wielded by anyone else,” said Harley.

  “It seems that the staff’s allegiance has changed, Harley. The staff is no longer mine.” Turning to face Jared, he wagged his finger at him, “No, it seems the staff now belongs, to you.”

  “That makes no sense! Surely it could protect me easily enough housed in the setting the boys made?” said Jared.

  “It seems that defence alone will not be enough. The Heart has realised that you will not only need to defend yourself against attack but be able to mount one of your own,” advised Emnor.

  “Makes sense, Jared,” Drake suddenly blurted out. “You can only get slapped in the head so many times before you do something to retaliate,” he added, glaring at Hannock.

  “Why now, Emnor? Do you think the Heart suspects that my joining with Yello could hold some danger?”

  “I have no idea I’m afraid,” replied Emnor. “It holds ancient powers that we may never understand.”

  “What if it has its own agenda?” suggested Harley. “Look at what the Elixian Soul has done to Karrak.”

  “I already have,” said Emnor with a smile. “But the two are as different to one another as Jared and Karrak. One is inherently good, the Heart; the other evil and dark, the Soul.”

  “Let’s not go into this now, eh? I think we should concentrate on the dangers that Yello could be facing as we speak. You said time is of the essence, so let’s get on with it!”

  Emnor nodded, he knew Jared was right, procrastinating would only add to the difficulties that he may face. “Stand behind Yello and place your palms against his temples,” he instructed. Now, clear your mind. Think only of Yello, anything that enters your thoughts could manifest itself once you imagine it. Are you comfortable? Now, close your eyes…”

  ***

  A split second later Jared opened his eyes. Emn
or and the others were gone. He was standing in a large cavern, quite unlike the one that Yello had encountered. The orange walls glowed and scattered flames spouted from the floor. I think I should tread carefully, Jared thought grinning. He wasn’t unnerved by the appearance of the cavern, it was rock and fire, nothing more. He took his first step, using the staff to test the ground ahead of him. The staff, he hadn’t been holding it when he joined with Yello, he couldn’t, both of his hands were holding Yello’s head. He tilted his head, staring in disbelief. The staff hadn’t even crossed his mind, he had no intention of bringing it with him. It appeared, however, that the staff had a will of its own. Jared tightened his grip and marched forward, a confidence in his step that he could not explain. As had Yello, he searched the dark tunnels leading from the cavern, taking care to avoid the sudden explosions of flame that appeared. It may not have been real, but he wasn’t about to test the theory that, what’s not real, can’t harm you. He paused momentarily, wiping his brow with his sleeve. He laughed quietly, why he had done that was a mystery, he wasn’t even sweating. Obviously my mind thinking that I should be, amongst this, he thought, glancing around him.

  His thoughts were interrupted, had he heard a voice? He stood, stock still. It was difficult to hear anything other than the roar of the flames and the explosions around him. Heading toward where he thought the sound had come from, he heard it again. It was incoherent, sounding more like the buzzing of an insect than actual speech but as he grew nearer, he recognised Yello’s voice. He crept forward, the staff raised before him. This place was not real, what he encountered may look like Yello, but he had to be careful. Things may not be what they appear in here, he thought.

  He craned his neck around the bend of the tunnel. He could see three figures, no wait, four. One was crouched against a wall, flames spewing from both sides of him. Yello was amongst them and seemed to be pleading with the others. He appeared to be in no danger but from what Jared could hear, he was imploring them to follow him.

  Jared stepped tentatively into view, “Yello,” he called, “we need to leave this place.”

  Barden immediately went into a rage, “See!” he roared, “You ask us to trust you and then reveal yourself to be a deceiver. You secrete others in an attempt to ambush us. Gain our trust and attack us from behind once our guard is lowered, was that your plan?”

  Yello held up his hands, “No Barden, no,” he assured him, “I came alone. I had no idea that anyone else would enter.”

  “LIAR!” yelled Barden. “See, I said he could not be trusted,” he warned Darooq.

  Darooq did not seem alarmed as he stared at Jared. He walked forward slowly as he began to speak, “Why are you here, Dunbar?”

  Jared was taken aback slightly, but managed to maintain his composure, “Not for any reason that involves you,” he replied. “Joining with you is harming Yello. In here he seems fine whereas, in reality, he is becoming dreadfully weak. Choose what fate you will for yourself, sorcerer, but I will not allow you to endanger my friend.”

  “I have chosen no path for the old man,” Darooq said, calmly. “He is neither bound, shackled or incarcerated. He has chosen to remain here.”

  “Jared, you must leave,” urged Yello. “They were about to leave this place, now you’ve only complicated things. Go! Now!”

  “Sorry, Yello, I cannot. If you choose not to follow me immediately, you’ll die in here!”

  “So, I die, so what? I’m an old man, surely my destiny should be of my own choosing?”

  “We can argue about that later. Right now, however, I’m leaving, and I’m taking you all with me.”

  “And if we refuse to leave?” laughed Darooq. “You can perform no magic in here, Dunbar. Even a man as large as you would not be able to drag both of us…” he looked behind him, “… apologies, all three of us if we are unwilling to accompany you.”

  Jared pursed his lips, “No magic?” he said slowly. Holding out the staff, he smiled at Darooq. Turning his gaze to Barden, he blinked slowly. Barden fell to his knees, he seemed confused, looking about him wildly. His manic self, still huddled against the wall, began screaming, “Leave me, let me stay!” it shrieked. It faded, and disappeared. The arrogant Barden fell forward and closed his eyes.

  Darooq glanced at Barden, “Dead?” he asked.

  “No,” replied Jared, “just asleep. We do not murder as indiscriminately as you do, sorcerer.”

  “Jared?” said Yello, “How? Why do you have Emnor’s staff? This is impossible.”

  “No, not impossible, Yellodius. Complicated yes, but not impossible,” Jared raised the staff once more. “Will you join us willingly, sorcerer, or perhaps you would prefer the alternative?”

  Darooq looked down at the slumbering body of Barden. Gesturing with his hand, he bowed his head, “Lead on,” he sighed.

  ***

  Grubb drummed his fingers lightly against his thigh. He had discovered a particularly spongy, moss-covered mound to lean against and couldn’t remember the last time he had been so comfortable. The smaller twigs on the campfire crackled quietly and he glanced across dreamily to see Lodren, fast asleep, on the other side of it. His gentle snoring seemed quite soothing and Grubb smiled as he recalled the Nibby’s disastrous efforts to convince the Thedarians to allow him to cook them a meal. He seemed most offended and his chuntering had continued right up until he dozed off, although, he was polite enough to keep his feelings hidden from their unexpected guests.

  The Thedarians had chosen to set up their own camp a short distance from their hosts and Faylore had joined them, eager to hear any news that they may have.

  Grubb looked up at the moons. Ordinarily they would have shone brightly, huge lanterns hanging by invisible threads. Their brilliance however, was now diminished by the ever-present mist. “Bloody Karrak!” he growled to himself.

  He studied the Thedarians in the distance, still fascinated by their glistening skin. He raised his hand and pinched it gently. They can’t turn it into something different though, he thought. Unless, of course, you count becoming invisible.

  He listened carefully, trying his best to eavesdrop on the Thedarian’s conversation. They were speaking in whispers, so he couldn’t catch a word. I wonder, he thought. With a mischievous grin, he shook his head slightly. His ear began to grow, stretching like a tentacle from the side of his head. It slithered like a deformed snake through the grass toward Faylore, and Grubb had to stifle a snigger as it wound its way toward her. Now I’ll ‘ear what yer up to. He covered his mouth, amused by his last thought. His tentacular appendage grew closer to its target, stopping merely inches behind Faylore.

  Unbeknownst to him, his spying mission was about to go slightly awry.

  Faylore spun around so quickly that he was unable to retract his ear in time. She grabbed it in her left hand and slapped it with her right, “This is a private conversation, Grubb!” she said sternly as Grubb gave out a yelp.

  “Alright, alright, I’m sorry!” he yelled, “Now let go of me ear.”

  His ear shrank away as Faylore released her vice-like grip.

  Grubb danced up and down rubbing the side of his head, “That bloody ‘urt that did!” he protested. “What d’ye do that for?”

  “You know quite well why I did it, you little sneak!” She scowled at him. “In future, just ask if you want to know something. Behaving like one of Karrak’s spies. Really!”

  Grubb suddenly felt ashamed, “I wasn’t spyin’. Well, not really. I just wondered what was going on is all.”

  “If there is something you need to know, I’ll tell you. Don’t do that again, Grubb, it’s rude!”

  Grubb looked at the ground, shuffling his feet like a naughty schoolboy, “Sorry,” he mumbled.

  The noise had woken Lodren, who was most alarmed by Faylore’s terse tone. Looking straight into Grubb’s eyes, he frowned, “What have you done now?” he asked, slowly.

  “Nothin’!” snapped Grubb, “Mind yer own business, go back to sleep
.”

  “Probably won’t be able to now,” sighed Lodren. “Shame really. I was having a marvellous dream about bashing this huge glamoch on the head and then cooking loads of steaks for the whole of Borell Castle. They were all telling me what a brilliant cook I was and giving me presents and all sorts.”

  Grubb scrunched up his nose, “What sort o’ presents?” he asked.

  “I’ll never know!” replied Lodren with another sigh. “Some idiot woke me up!”

  Faylore joined them, “I suggest you both get some rest,” she advised. “Tomorrow is going to be a busy day.”

  “Why?” asked Grubb, suspiciously, “What ye got planned?”

  “We’ll discuss it in the morning, Grubb. Now get some sleep.” Without another word, she lay down and closed her eyes.

  “Ye not gonna find a tree to sleep in?” asked Grubb, tentatively.

  Faylore never replied.

  ***

  The following morning Lodren, as always, was up and about well before the others. He had added more wood to the fire and was busy trying to present as comprehensive a breakfast as he could, in a vain hope of catering for everyone’s individual tastes. The honey cakes were, he felt, the most important. After all, if they were good enough for Faylore, surely the rest of the Thedarians wouldn’t dare refuse them. He gave a cheery ‘good morning’ to each Thedarian as they arose from their slumber, receiving a nod as acknowledgement. “So rude!” he muttered under his breath. Faylore was the only one polite enough to repeat his words. Then, of course, there was Grubb. He lay there, mouth open, snoring loudly. The air was chill and the vapour from his breath could be seen as he lay there.

  “Look at him!” said the exasperated Nibby. “If it wasn’t for the noise, you’d think he was dead.” Kicking Grubb’s boot, he raised his voice, “Get up, you lazy thing!”

  Grubb snorted and opened his eyes, “I’m already awake, stupid. I was only pretending to be asleep in case we were attacked.”

  “But of course you were, Grubb. That’s why you know I took your boots off and put them on the fire.”