by Brian Beam
Against all odds, this really was the temple built by the McAlwains’ ancestors and their fellow farmers. What little remained of the door revealed that it may have once been intricately carved with designs that reminded me of the twig the Kolarin had carved. I regretted that I would never be able to give that twig to my father, the man who raised me. I regretted even more that it was because Telis had been sacrificed to save my life.
Night was approaching quickly and already the entryway was darkened to the point that we couldn’t even see more than a couple feet into it. Max stepped into the doorway and turned to us. “I think we should camp inside the entryway. I can pretty much guarantee that no eldrhims will be after us tonight, but if I am wrong, they would be kept from coming at us from all angles that way. I will put up a ward outside the entrance that could hold them back long enough to alert us. It would not hold them back for good, but we would have plenty of time to escape into the temple. Assuming that Salmaea’s right about the magic of this temple, they would never follow us in. Eldrhims are creatures of evil that would never enter the positive energy of a temple dedicated to a god of good. They would be like a fish thrown onto dry land.”
“I could make a barrier for us,” Sal’ added, receiving raised eyebrows and eyebrow equivalents from both Max and I. “Okay, fine.” She crossed her arms and appeared to be pouting again.
As I thought about the potential for an eldrhim attack, I realized how unfair it was to needlessly put Sal’ in danger. “Max, how sure are you that we’ll be safe from eldrhims? I don’t want Sal’ put in danger because of me.” I think Sal’s face lit up at my words, but it was hard to tell in the faded daylight.
“I am postive.” Simple enough. I had put my trust in Max countless times. There was no reason to stop just then. Well, except that now a third party was at risk. Still, he hadn’t led me astray yet. “The real problem is that we have not had dinner yet. That should have happened hours ago.”
Sal’ and I shared a laugh as Max stared at us with a deadpan expression. We set up a small fire right outside the entrance so as not to suffocate ourselves and dined on some salted ham on bread, pears, and a tangy yellow cheese. Sal’ had enough water in her waterskin for all three of us with some to spare when we were done. She even let me use some to clean my muddy face. Max pigged out until he left us to set up his ward followed by promptly falling asleep right inside the entryway. Once he had fallen asleep, Sal’ brought out a large bottle of wine from that magic bag of hers. We sat cross-legged on the ground near the fire.
Sal’ and I ended up talking about our childhoods which were about as different as different can be—Sal’ growing up in a prominent wizarding family and me growing up milking cows and harvesting crops. During the conversation, she seemed amazingly normal for once.
After we had drained half the bottle between us, Sal leaned forward, placing one elbow on her knees while holding the wine in her opposite hand. “So why are these eldrhims after you?” she asked bluntly after taking a swig of the wine and passing it to me.
I graciously accepted the bottle, took a huge gulp of the fruity wine and explained what Max had told me. “I’m not sure he’s telling me the whole truth, though,” I admitted. I shook my head, running my hand through my choppy hair. The wine must have been pretty strong. I couldn’t believe I was telling her all the details of the situation with Menar and Raijom.
Sal’ laughed. I didn’t think she found the situation funny, I think the alcohol had affected her. “That’s definitely interesting.” She held out her hand for the bottle. After another drink, she passed it back to me.
After another swig, I wiped my mouth with a purple sleeve. “So, as long as we’re being open here, how do you plan on killing a dragon?”
Sal’ held up a finger to indicate for me to wait a second, and grabbed her backpack from the ground. After a few moments of rummaging through it, she pulled out a small, silver, hinge-lidded box. Lifting the lid, she reached in and pulled out a black gooey substance that she let ooze off her hand into the box. After replacing the lid, she put a finger over her lips and started giggling. “Don’t tell anyone. I stole it from the Academy lab.” More giggling ensued.
“Your secret’s safe with me,” I avowed, awkwardly placing a hand to my heart with as regal a look as I could manage. “But, what is this blob I’m keeping secret?”
Sal’ motioned me forward with a crook of a slender, ringed finger and I leaned towards her. “It dispels magic when activated,” she whispered in my ear as if there were someone who might overhear her otherwise. “I just have to stick it to the dragon, lead it out of the temple and then bam!” She smacked a hand to the floor for emphasis. “Dragons are creatures of magic, so that’s the end of the dragon.” She started laughing as if what she said had been a joke.
I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. “But, if dragons are creatures of magic and the temple prohibits magic...,” I argued slurrily, trailing off for Sal’ to answer.
Sal’ giggled cutely. “The temple doesn’t dispel magic. When For example, when I enter, my backpack will still be enchanted. Magic just can’t be created within the walls, silly. Now quit hogging the wine.” She snatched the bottle from my hand with her free hand for another quick drink before passing it back.
I pursed my lips in thought. After a minute of letting the wheels spin in my slowed brain, I asked, “So all you have to do is get close enough to the dragon to put that blob on it and then have it chase you out of the temple?” Sal’ nodded. “And you don’t see anything wrong with that plan?” Sal’ shook her head. “Well, you are braver and possibly stupider than I thought,” I laughed, sitting straight again. She started laughing with me. Thank the gods for the wine. Sober, a comment like that would have instigated some poorly cast magic my way.
After the laughter died and I wiped my eyes, I took another drink and handed the bottle to Sal’ who proceeded to empty it in a single gulp. “So, how old are you?” I asked.
“Twenty—hic—five” she hiccupped, covering her mouth in embarrassment.
“Hmm, I thought you were younger,” I mused. “I’m twenty-three. You sure are pretty, you know.” It’s amazing at the stupid things that come out of your mouth under the influence of alcohol.
Sal’ gave me a bashful smile and then maladroitly pushed herself to her feet. She stumbled a few steps into the temple, dropped the wicker case beside her, bent down to grab the bottom of her royal blue robe and started taking it off. “What are you doing?” I slurred drunkenly, my heavy eyelids rising slowly in surprise. Yeah, the wine was definitely strong.
Sal’ giggled. “Don’t get too excited. Wizards don’t sleep in their robes, silly.” Had I been slurring as bad as she was?
Though the light barely illuminated the area she had stepped into, I could make out that she wore a tight, stomach-bearing top of some sort and snug, dark breeches tied just below her knees. In addition to her rings, she also wore a wide silver bracelet on each wrist. Her slender frame was alluring. The tightness of her top called attention to her bosom. My attention anyway.
My head swam from the alcohol. Reason flew out of my head as I got up and walked to her, placing a hand on her lean, bared waist. Her skin was so soft. She smiled at me. I leaned forward to kiss her.
The next thing I knew, I was falling face first to the ground, landing sharply on a shoulder with Sal’s intoxicated giggling sounding from where she had apparently sidestepped to. “Sorry, Korin, you’re just not my type.”
“What is your type?” I grunted as I pushed myself dizzily to my feet.
“I like my men with a bit more muscle,” she brazenly stated, lying down onto a blanket while pulling a second one over her body.
“I may be skinny, but I’ve got muscle,” I argued drunkenly, the ground swaying under my feet for some reason and making it hard to remain standing.
“Put out the fire and go to bed, silly,” she giggled. With that, she closed her eyes.
I staggered over to the fire, c
lumsily kicked dirt over it and stepped back a few paces into the entryway, almost tripping over Max. I realized that I didn’t have a blanket and settled for lying on my cloak on the hard stone entryway floor a couple of arm lengths from Sal’, drawing my arms around my stomach. The ground continued to undulate even though I was lying still. I really hoped I was drunk enough to forget everything that had just happened when I awoke. More importantly, I hoped Sal’ was too.
Chapter 11
Out Of The Pot And Into The Fire…With A Hangover
Explosions of ground-shaking thunder gave me a rude awakening from a mercifully dreamless sleep. I looked outside the entryway to see the morning sky darkened from a rainstorm that poured down fiercely through the trees. My aching head thanked the gods for the absence of bright light.
Nauseously, I sat up, the walls still wavering in my vision. How much had I drank? To my left, Max was washing his face with a licked paw. He brought his smug eyes up to meet mine.
“Good morning, bright eyes,” he ribbed before going back to washing his face.
“Oh, drop it, furball,” I muttered with a hand to my aching head. The walls were starting to solidify a little more around me.
“Salmaea says you are quite the fish,” he mocked between licking his paw and drawing it down his face.
I twisted quickly to my right—a little too quickly according to the bile I had to swallow back down. Sal’, in her robe, was packing her blankets down into her backpack and gave me a knowing smile and a wink. I stared at her incredulously. How did she not feel like death after the night before? The question left my mind as a flash of lightning stabbed daggers behind my eyes. This was not looking to be a fun morning.
Sal’ stepped over me, walking with a sway that would have captivated my attention if I didn’t feel as sick as a dying dog. As I fought a battle with the rising contents of my stomach, Sal’ crouched at the doorway, taking something up from the ground. She returned with a dented metal pitcher filled with rainwater and a large piece of hard bread. “Here, take these. They’ll make you feel better.”
I slowly reached out for the proffered items with a nod of thanks. Sal’ gave me another big smile and started back over to where she had laid her backpack. Before taking a bite of the bread, I thought of something. “Wait, can’t you make me feel better with a spell or something?” I asked pleadingly. I still couldn’t understand how she was fine. Maybe she had used magic to save herself from a hangover.
Sal’ gave me a look that was one part remorse mixed with two parts amusement. “I’m not sure you want me using magic on you. Plus, Max said we should let you suffer.” She turned to dig through her bag in a failed attempt to hide the effort of holding her laughter back. I didn’t know whether to be mad at her or proud that she accepted her magical limits in good humor for once.
I cast an aggravated glare towards the furball. “What?” he asked smugly. “You deserve it for not being able to hold your alcohol. Well, that and not being able to hold it as well as a girl.” Unlike Sal’ Max made no effort to hide his pleasure at my situation.
Reaching up with the bread in my hand to reflexively tuck my hair behind my ears I recalled the choppy mess of short hair that I currently had and brought my hand back down. I nibbled on the bread and drank the rain water as I sat on the floor, flinching each time lightning flashed through the open doorway. Given the state of my stomach at the time, I wasn’t quite ready to get to my feet yet. Here my free life was in danger and I was busy nursing off a hangover. Maybe I, not Sal, was the one with issues.
Once I had washed down the last bite of bread, I splashed the last bit of rainwater onto my face as if it would wash away the sickness. The water was nice and cold and helped me regain my senses enough to stand without wavering. I stretched my sore muscles and picked my brown cloak from the stone floor, flinging it around my shoulders.
Though the sky was darkened with storm clouds that still produced the occasional head-splitting flash of lightning followed by booming thunder, there was enough light to see the inside of the entryway more clearly than the prior night. The walls, just wider than my arm span, were built from smooth, shiny, rectangular stones like the ones we had seen below the skylight. They felt like polished marble and had the same shine. The stones were light gray in color with pink streaks throughout. Old, empty, rusted sconces were fixed into the wall on both sides of the doorway with another set further down the entryway hall before the hall became lost in shadow. The floor stones were rougher than the walls and most were cracked or had come up from the ground, though they were the same color. Moss covered a good portion of the floor this close to the entrance. The rounded, natural-rock ceiling was at least double my height.
I took in a deep breath, the musty smell of the temple not doing my stomach any favors. The air was damp and, along with the smell, was probably the result of stagnant water.
“Well, if you guys are done goofing off, I’m ready.” I tossed the pitcher to Sal’. I still had to put effort into keeping my stomach contents at bay and I was sure my face was as pale as a ghost, but I still tried to put up a hard-headed front.
Max stopped washing his face and strutted to my side as I joined with Sal’ several steps further towards the dark end of the hall. Sal’ was holding what appeared to be a small, nondescript, clear glass globe. Putting a hand into her wicker case, the globe suddenly burst into a golden orb of light brighter than any lantern I’d ever seen, kind of like a miniature sun.
“See, I’m not bad at all magic,” she boasted with a grin. “This thing takes half the energy to power and emits twice the light of anything I could create myself. It even stays lit up for a good while without any maintenance energy.”
“Is this another Academy lab acquired item?” I asked, getting a glare in response. “Alright, then. Let’s get moving.”
On one hand I was glad Sal’ had been successful in lighting our way. Max would probably tire quickly if he provided the light. I didn’t know what to expect in the temple, so I preferred Max to be as rested as possible if we found trouble.
On the other hand, I wanted to smack the orb out of her hand and deal with the dark. To my chagrin, the light had brought back my nausea at full force and drove nails into my skull. Stupid wine.
The illuminated hall stretched far enough for the orb’s light to be swallowed by darkness before any turns or openings were shown. The shiny walls seemed to glow in the light. The rusty sconces stretched down either side of the hall every dozen paces or so with old black, sooty stains streaking up from above them to the ceiling.
We kept up a brisk pace down the hall. The sound of the storm faded behind us, though faint rumbles of thunder could still be heard and felt. Through the haze of my hangover, I kept a wary eye in front of us and kept a hand on my sword hilt. There was no telling if the hall would open up to the skylighted area we’d found the previous day and if there would be a dragon waiting for us there or not.
After minutes that felt more like hours, the hall came to a marble fountain with a statue of a cow on its hind legs stretching up from its center. The fountain was long since dried up and partially crumbling with unusable, ruined coins scattered across its base. There was a small hole at the cow’s mouth where I supposed water used to stream down into the elaborately sculpted basin below it. It would have been impressive if it hadn’t been so ridiculous. Some people had really taken worshipping the god of livestock seriously. As if I needed any other reason to keep my head out of religion.
The fountain marked the end of the hallway which split to the left and right beside us. Both branching halls appeared identical to the one we had just travelled and stretched off into darkness with no immediately visible branches.
After a quick glance down both halls with no way to differentiate the two, I dropped my aching head down into my free hand. “Should we flip a coin?”
Max gave his typical huff, but offered no advice. Sal’, however, studied both halls, her gaze lingering on the right tunnel b
efore turning to the left. After a moment of examining the left, she turned back to the right and started forward. “This way. The magic is stronger.” Max looked up at me with a shrug of his shoulders and followed with me trailing behind.
After several monotonous minutes of nearly jogging down the hallway, the walls and ceiling abruptly opened into a large room. Rotted, wooden chairs lined the outside walls. The walls were shiny like the hallways, but looked to be the natural interior of the mountain, seamlessly blending into the rough ceiling. The floor appeared to have once had the same sheen as the walls, but was now rough from all the traffic that must have come through over time. The room was bare other than the rotted furniture.
We cautiously slowed our pace now that we were out of the confines of the hallway. As we continued, we realized we weren’t in a room at all. What we thought to be a single room continually stretched out beyond where the orb’s light ended as we made our way forward. The whole temple must have been a natural cave put to the purpose of worshipping a laughable god. Sorry, I still think worshipping a god of livestock is preposterous. Currently we were in a cavern that would have been more than large enough for the dragon, even with its wings at full spread.
Nothing of value was to be seen. The temple had likely been looted long ago. Collapsed shelving and tables started appearing interspersed throughout the cavern as we made our way deeper. With the amount of ruined furniture, it appeared that hundreds of people could have been housed in the cavern at any given time. I had trouble believing that so many people hundreds of years ago would have come to this out-of-the-way temple. Then again, maybe a large portion of the worshippers had lived in it.
