by P D Ceanneir
However, all this was taken in at a glance as a natural and normal formation of land. What was floating above the valley was not natural or normal in any shape or form. The guardians in question were huge slabs of rocks, brown, but veined throughout their surface with other colours, mainly gold and silver, similar to the Gateway. The blocks were long and rectangular; their sides squared at ninety-degree angles with precision and skill. They glided lazily back and forth in front of the guardian gate, neither crashing into one another nor making any sound whatsoever.
‘There are twelve of them in all,’ informed Carbaum when he joined them. ‘They move of their own accord. No-one knows how they float so effortlessly over the valley, for this is not an Epicentre, at least not an Epicentre we can understand.’
Little Kith shrugged. ‘It is truly spectacular, captain, but what do they guard?’
Captain Carbaum pointed over the valley. ‘Directly opposite this gate there is an identical one on the far side.’ They all looked and sure enough through the thinning mist was another gate the same as the first, sitting on the edge of the far cliff face.
‘That, gentlemen, is the Gateway of the Dead. Mortkraxnoss comes to rest just beyond it once every two years, nestling between the wide valleys of the mountains on the other side to take up the vast empty land that stretches away into the distance deep into the ice realm beyond the horizon.’ Carbaum then turned their attention to the Gateway of Life. ‘One must walk through the gateway, over the guardians and through the Gateway of Death in order to get to the shores of Mortkraxnoss. The Floating Isle is shrouded by a barrier of thick grey mist that conceals its dangerous rocky coast, a coastline so sharp and treacherous, that any Sky Ships, no matter how worthy and skilled of crew, will be reduced to splinters on them. However, the Gateway of Death is the only way onto the isle. It leads to an opening in the rocks and a path to the Hall of Whispers, so the tales within the My’thos Lore tells us.’
‘How do you get to the other side if the Guardians are always moving?’ asked Furran.
‘That is why we need the talisman,’ said the captain. Carbaum took them to the gateway and showed them an inset on the right hand part of the oval ring. It was a space cut out for a small five-pointed star with a deep-set circle in the centre, possibly for a gem of some kind. ‘The Talisman of Mortkraxnoss, once inserted in this space, will order the guardians to align as a bridge to the far side.’
‘So the Nicbetha has the talisman,’ said the Ri. ‘Why?’
The Captain shrugged. ‘Personal gain, I believe. Mannheim thinks she is after the Gredligg Orrinn for herself that is why he sends poor souls on dangerous missions to retrieve it. The floating Isle will be here soon I believe.’
‘Really?’ asked Havoc, ‘is the two year cycle up?’
Carbaum shook his head, ‘not really, the Isle of the Dead seems to know when it is required to land back to earth. This two years absence it more of a guideline, my lord.’
‘I see.’
‘If the Nicbetha has the talisman,’ said Furran, who was thoughtfully looking over at the other side of the valley, ‘why does she just not use it to activate the bridge and go and take the Great Orrinn herself?’ It was question that all of them were thinking and all eyes rounded on Carbaum who self-consciously shrugged.
‘I must admit that I’m at a loss to answer that,’ he offered.
‘It’s because of this Barrier, isn’t it?’ said Havoc.
Lord Ness glanced at the prince, ‘what makes you say that?’
Havoc seemed perplexed at his own question, ‘I’m not sure, but it feels right. Just as I am sure this Nicbetha is not here to take the Gredligg Orrinn, but is waiting for the prophesied Keeper.’
Lord Ness nodded, ‘you could well be right, my lord.’ He turned away and placed a hand on the rough surface of the gateway.
‘This material is unique, do you know what it is made from,’ he asked Carbaum.
‘No, though it is ancient, and according to the legends it was made by the My’thos themselves purely to have an entry point into Mortkraxnoss for the coming of the new Keeper.’
Havoc moved beside the Ri, took off his armoured gauntlet and closed his eyes as he placed his hand flat on the surface. After a while, he frowned and shook his head.
‘Confusing, I cannot use the Arts to detect what material the gateway of made from, but I am sure I have seen this type of stone before.’
‘Oh?’ remarked Lord Ness. ‘I very much doubt it, highness. This is incredibly rare. The only known pieces we have are in the vault rooms secured inside the Tower of Sooth.’
The prince did not appear to be listening. He was lost in thought as he tried to extract a lost memory. ‘I’m sure I have seen a ring made from this stuff, but I can’t remember where…’ he looked at the scarring on his palm. The strange glyphs still showed faintly in the morning light. He and the Ri had not yet worked out what they meant. The prince shrugged and put his gauntlet back on. He looked up at the Ri, ‘do you know what this is?’
Lord Ness nodded with a slight smile.
‘What is it, Master?’ Havoc asked.
‘Everything,’ was his reply.
Chapter Seven
Icebound
T
hey were being observed.
High up on an ice cliff to the north, a pink eyeball with two black reptilian irises watched the five men intently. A heavy white eyelid blinked over the eye, flicking the sleet from its long grey lashes. The creature’s eyesight was exceptional; it picked up the heat from the groups bodies, which pulsed a brighter red with their heartbeat.
The Ice Drake grunted; vapour shot from its nose, turning the already shiny rocky ice cliff into a thicker sparkling sheen. This did not make his slow creep along the cliff face difficult; in fact, his long sharp claws aided his ability to scale such a slippery surface as they punched holes into the rock like a climber ice pick. Snow clung to the greyish white fur that grew from his back and served to camouflage him even more, yet still it halted and pressed it’s bulky body flat on the vertical cliff when one of the five he was observing pointed in its direction.
‘It is called Glemmarstone,’ said Ness Ri, ‘and it is very, very rare indeed, the old gods made it from every element on the planet, apart from Pyromancium, of course. It is indestructible and very light even though it is believed to trap vast amounts of energy within it,’ Ness Ri turned towards Carbaum. ‘That is probably why they float in the air, captain, the Epicentre below must be reacting with the energy within the stones to cause some form of polarising effect.’
Havoc ran his hands over the surface of the Glemmarstone tracing the coloured veins that mapped their way throughout the stone gateway.
‘God Metal,’ he said, ‘I’ve heard of it.’
‘Precisely,’ nodded the Ri.
‘So, if the Guardians are made from the same material then this place must be hundreds of thousands of years old,’ said the prince.
‘Correct,’ said the Ri, ‘the properties of Glemmarstone are not well known because of its rarity, but it is widely accepted that it was created by the Old Gods, but for what purpose? We are not sure.’ Then he turned towards Carbaum.
‘Where is this ice palace of the Nicbetha’s?’ he asked. The captain pointed to the west.
‘There beyond that ridge of rock on the far side of the mountain...’ he stopped and stared with his arm still raised. Havoc looked at the ridge and thought he caught movement.
‘I think we have outstayed our welcome,’ said Carbaum, ‘we must go!’
Tia’s head hurt badly. She gripped her forehead as she woke, groaning loudly, but the groans from Foxe on the other side of the cell were louder.
‘My mouth feels like a mange-ridden cat has just vacated it after a night eating rotting fish,’ he said and Tia chuckled as his descriptive image leapt into her mind.
‘You’re lucky,’ said Velnour as he looked around him at their prison. ‘My good eye is swollen shut and I can’t s
ee a bloody thing.’
‘That is because it is dark, Velnour,’ informed Tia.
‘Oh, right.’
In fact, it was not completely dark. Dull morning light filtered through a small archway of bars at the top of the wall Tia was leaning on. With the light, she could just see Foxe sitting up on his sheet-less cot and the iron bars of the cell that took up the opposite wall. She scoffed at the arrogance of her gaoler if they thought iron bars would hold a Rawn Master prisoner.
They had succumbed to the guards, along with the other customers, when they stormed into the Tavern with their Swagger Sticks flying at anyone who was in the midst of the brawl. Several Watchmen dragged Djroosh and Hexor off first and they had not seen them since. Foxe hoped his brother was all right. He was probably in a cell close by.
‘What happened to Gunach?’ asked Tia.
‘Didn’t you see? Someone bumped into him, spilling his beer,’ said Foxe.
‘Yeah, he went nuts. Most of the guards stayed out of his way because they thought he was helping them,’ said Velnour.
‘Helping them?’
‘He was throwing everyone out of the windows. Last time I saw him, as I was being dragged away, he was shouting at the proprietor for another drink and skilfully inserting a broken bar stool into a Wards unmentionables.’
They all laughed and then groaned.
Rainwater slipped past the bars above Tia and trickled down the wall. She shivered. She heard the moans and groans of others incarcerated in neighbouring cells and sighed.
‘How long are we to stay here then?’ she said and saw Velnour shrug.
‘The Commander will get us out,’ he said without much enthusiasm, ‘although I doubt he will be happy about it.’
‘We will just have to pass the time and amuse ourselves,’ said Foxe.
‘Oh and how are we going to do that?’ said Tia, as she shuffled her long bare legs off the bed and tentatively rubbed her sore neck.
‘Two men and one woman alone in a room...what more can I say?’
Velnour brightened at Tia’s sudden expression of mixed shock and amusement.
‘Not tonight dear, I have a headache,’ she said and Velnour laughed.
‘I meant a game of parchment, scissors and stone, actually,’ said Foxe genuinely taken aback.
Suddenly, there was a loud roar from above and screams of fear from the local populace, a commotion of running feet and men shouting for people to get under cover. Tia, Foxe, and Velnour looked at each other for the briefest second then leapt to the small arch window. Tia jumped up to grab the high bars and looked out while Foxe braved the pain of his bruised ribs and placed the girls booted feet on his shoulder, gripping her muscled calves to steady her.
‘What do you see? And I am not looking up your skirt, honest,’ said Foxe.
Tia was not listening. She could see that the culvert was at ground level and last night’s snowfall had turned to sleet, the melt water made the iron bars slick and difficult to hold onto. Feet, male and female ran across her field of vision, running away from something. That dreadful inhuman roar reverberated all around them again and the steady thrum of flapping wings drew her attention upwards.
Velnour heard her yelp then helped her down from Foxe’s shoulders.
‘The exquisite pleasure we have enjoyed in this establishment has been tainted by the urgent necessity to leave,’ she said to the knights and placed both hands on the main bars to the cells entrance. Velnour and Foxe smiled as the black iron bars turned a pale white under Tia’s touch and shattered into thousands of fragments of ash that floated around them like snow as they quickly left and ran down the corridor. They sped up the stairs to the main entrance and found the gaol’s reception area empty.
‘Look for weapons,’ said Velnour as he rushed to a rack with short bladed spears and swords, all three took a spear and a blade each then exited into the damp morning light.
The chill of the air did not send shivers down Tia’s back.
However, what she saw did.
‘I should not have brought you to the gateway,’ said a worried Carbaum as he led the other four on horseback down the steep winding path back towards town. Occasionally they would arrive at a vantage point where they could see Ternquin below them and the winged creature of dread hovering above it.
‘It is not often that Glajziur is watching the Guardians, usually he watches the Ice Path.’ bemoaned Carbaum. ‘It has been some time since he has attacked the town, I should not have taken the risk of bringing you here.’ The captain was voicing genuine concern for his people and Havoc felt pangs of pity and guilt for his part in all of this, so much so that the negative emotions merged to charge his Pyromantic curse.
‘Fret not, my friend, let us take one problem at a time,’ Havoc said and kicked Dirkem’s flanks to spur the black stallion onwards down the path at a gallop.
Tia stared in wonder at the hovering behemoth above her. The Ice Drake roared, it’s echoes rebounded off the surrounding mountains and sifted through the pine trees, which shook the morning snow from their branches. It flapped it’s wide mottled grey wings lazily looking for prey. Unlike other dragons she remembered from her books in her early academy days, the Ice Drake appeared different from the usual genus of the Fire Drakes. Apart from its bare stubby tail and wide flat head, it’s entire body was covered in greyish-white fur instead of scales. Horned ridge spines, like six-foot quills, protruded at an angle from its back and four thick legs with razor sharp claws, wider than a man’s arm length, hung under its muscle-ridged abdomen. The flat head housed long teeth that glinted like diamonds. It had wide nostrils on a scaly snout and a protruding bony crest behind its short ears, which flicked from left to right as it searched. The creature also had a low hooded brow where its fierce pink eyes stared down at the fleeing crowd with malevolent intent.
‘By the gods!’ said Foxe, whose bowels were turning to water at the sight of his first dragon.
They stood in the safety of the prison doorway as the dragon turned full circle in the air, whipping its tail around in rhythmic movements as it’s bulky body followed behind the short thick neck. Most of the locals were well out of its way by this time but a troop of armoured soldiers ran up from the wharf in formation. Tia did not favour their chances.
‘There is something wrong,’ said Velnour, ‘why is it not burning anything?’
‘It’s an Ice Drake, Velnour,’ said Tia, ‘it doesn’t use Wyrmfire.’
Velnour wore a confused look on his face. ‘But what...?’ he had no time to finish the question when the dragon turned towards the troop of soldiers and breathed in with a loud whoosh so reminiscent of the Drakken he had fought all those years ago. He flinched when the dragon unleashed a long blue-white stream of part gas, part liquid, from behind the needle sharp maw of its mouth and hit the front rank of the soldiers as they moved forward.
The men behind that rank instantly split from their formation and leapt for cover as a sudden wall of ice encased the front row of guards. Velnour could just make out the victims shocked faces through the clear ice blocks that trapped them.
‘Shit!’ he cursed.
Dirkem’s years in the mountains during the days of exile with his master gave him more experience than the other mounts when it came to climbing down a steep path at speed. As a result, he and Havoc were well in front of the others when they reached the bottom. They galloped past the Ternquin Tree causing a group of frightened Wards, with a frowning Mannheim leading them to the wharf, to scatter. Any curses from the Archward were lost in the whistling wind that rushed around the prince’s ears as he raced through the trees and into the open ground of the town.
Tia needed to get into a good position to throw the spear and distract the Ice Drake from the soldiers on the ground.
‘Cover me,’ she said to Foxe and Velnour and did not wait for an acknowledgement as she ran through the sleet with sword in one hand and spear in the other.
‘Cover you,’ said a shocke
d Velnour, ‘what with?’ Foxe nudged him and ran in another direction waving his sword and shouting at the top of his voice. Velnour followed, doing the same, and their concerted efforts got the attention of the dragon. It swooped low as it turned to face them.
‘Oh, great idea, cleaver clogs!’ hissed Velnour as he realised that they were out in the open with little time to find shelter before the winged beast hit them with a blast of frozen breath. Out of the corner of his single eye, he saw Tia on the right flank of the approaching dragon; she hefted the spear and threw it straight and true at the creature’s rounded underside. They saw it hit the gut just to the inside of the right hind leg. However, their smiling faces fell into shocked expressions as the spear bounced away harmlessly, landing with a dull squelching sound in the snowy earth. Clearly, just because it never had scales, did not mean it had thin skin.
The Ice Drake flapped its wings into a downdraught to slow it’s forward momentum and snapped it’s head round to fix it’s eyes on Tia. As it turned towards her, Velnour and Foxe saw her turn and run, so they shouted some more to get the dragon’s attention and Foxe chucked his spear even though the creature was now out of range.
Tia heard the inrush of air as the Ice Drake sucked in a lung-full of breath, she dodged left and right heading for the safety of the trees keeping her balance as she slipped through the melting snow. The dragon sent out a stream of ice-cold vapour that smashed into the ground and formed a thin line of crystallised ice spikes, which followed several feet behind the running girl. Tia jumped into a narrow gap between two pine trees and their branches caught the chill air as she landed and rolled away to safety. The trees instantly turned into a glistening metallic grey and she felt the warmth disappear from the air around her. The dragon whooshed overhead as it pulled out of its dive and the downdraught from it’s great wings shattered the frozen trees into millions of tiny pieces that rained down upon Tia.
