The City Under the Mountain

by D. W. Hawkins

  A chorus of strangled cries issued from the Gatha.

  “Your children will be beasts!”

  Indalvian’s heart twisted as the high-pitched screams of children answered Ishamael.

  “Your people will rut in holes for eternity so all the world knows what you are!”

  Indalvian forced his eyes to look on Ishamael. The Nar’doroc had ripped away his shirt, covering his body in vibrating tendrils of silver. The seven gems filled the air around Ishamael with iridescent light and the hum of its alien power. The thing looked for all the world like some persistent growth, clutching to its host like a liquid insect. Indalvian wanted to call out to Ishamael, but he couldn’t pull enough air into his chest.

  Narilin lay on the ground beside Indalvian, eyes wild with fear. His body spasmed as his mouth tried to form words. Indalvian clutched to the old man’s hand, screaming at him through the noise in the ether. All Indalvian could hear was that terrible hum.

  The other shamans were in a similar state, some of them lying still on the grass. The strongest amongst them seemed to be fighting off the effects of the Nar’doroc’s power, but none were on their feet. Indalvian tried to crawl down the hill, but his arms wouldn’t pull his weight. A wave of dizziness made his stomach heave again, and he abandoned his effort to get away.

  A look toward the prisoners left him cold and shattered. Children struggled in the dirt, kicking and seizing as their bodies were…twisted. The adults fared no better. Some clawed at the ground, others tore at their own skin. The screams took on a primal tone as the throats giving them voice were changed. Faces were distended, lengthened by growing skulls and emerging teeth. Claws ripped forth from fingertips, cutting into skin as the prisoners tore at their own bodies in horror and pain. Indalvian couldn’t look away.

  Liandri’s corpse floated above the writhing mass, burning with a fell light. Beneath it, the Gatha screamed as they were transformed. Indalvian struggled to gain his feet, but his body wouldn’t respond to his desperate pleas for action. He managed to pull himself a small distance down the hillside but collapsed to his back as another wave of nausea gripped his stomach.

  Ishamael hovered in the air over the Gatha, hands outstretched. Behind him, mimicking his posture and expression, was the woman. Her hair writhed in time with the silver filaments of the Nar’doroc, her nudity shining like the light around Liandri’s corpse. The last thing Indalvian saw before darkness dragged him under was the exultant look in her eyes.

  As he fell into the black, another disembodied voice sounded in his mind. It was him, but another man, somehow tied together. Indalvian’s head was filled with blinding needles of pain as a sensation of movement assailed him.

  Together with that distant voice, he screamed with mindless agony.

  ***

  “It’s awakening,” D’Jenn said. “I can feel it.”

  The Nar’doroc had begun to sing halfway through Dormael’s first jump. Its metallic voice crooned on the edges of D’Jenn’s senses, tickling at his mind with delicate fingers. Dormael regained his feet, waving at D’Jenn and Allen to indicate he was alright. The armlet, still tied around Dormael’s neck, gave no visual indication it was singing.

  It must be filling his mind with its song right now. It’s become a burden on him. He jumps at things lately, has dark circles under his eyes. If D’Jenn could have his way, they would lock away the pieces of the Nar’doroc somewhere safe. Using Shawna’s armlet to reveal its counterpart was likely the most dangerous strategy anyone could have devised. To D’Jenn, it seemed like using an open flame to figure out how much pitch was soaked into your clothing—no matter what happened, something was going to burn.

  Sometimes all you can do is make one bad choice or another. Adversity is part of life.

  The thought came to D’Jenn’s mind and brought a scowl to his face. He wasn’t sure if he was more angry at the value of the words, or that they had come from Victus Tiranan. Ever since D’Jenn had failed to kill the man, he’d been picking out odd little bits of Victus reflected in his own personality, like a fungus growing beneath a flower garden.

  Every time he found another root, it made him angrier.

  “He made it.” Allen gestured to Dormael, who had just caught the side of the effigy. “The landing looked painful.”

  Dormael climbed up the side of the crude statue, creeping upward like a spider. The song from the Nar’doroc intensified, and Dormael’s motions intensified in answer. He dug into the effigy with frantic pulling motions. D’Jenn narrowed his eyes.

  That’s got to be tearing up his hands. There are brambles and sticks and all sorts of sharp edges in that thing, but Dormael is ripping away like he doesn’t feel them.

  “Now that I’ve got you alone, tell me the truth about something,” Allen said, breaking D’Jenn’s concentration. “That thing—what’s it doing to my brother? He won’t say a word, and the two of you are so tight-lipped you whistle when you talk. When he put the armlet on, what did it take from him? He’s not the same, and you know it. Don’t feed me any horseshit.”

  D’Jenn was stunned for a moment, unable to reply. Part of his mind was occupied with the silence spell, and Allen had caught him off-guard. When D’Jenn hesitated, Allen snorted and went back to watching his brother.

  “Well, that tells me something.” Allen scowled at the courtyard. “Your hesitation speaks volumes.”

  “I’m not sure it took something from him, exactly,” D’Jenn said, “but—”

  A noise washed through the ether in a violent wave. It slammed into D’Jenn like an unstoppable tide, filling his mind with its presence. D’Jenn’s senses were suffused with an abrasive pressure, like his Kai was being ground over a pit of sharp gravel while a horn blared in his ears. The vibration crept deep into his bones and made him feel like the meat was going to shake free from his body. His stomach roiled while his lungs struggled to breathe.

  “—up, you fool!” Allen’s voice was close and strained. “What’s wrong with you? What’s happening?”

  D’Jenn felt Allen pulling him to his feet, felt the pinch as Allen’s armor caught a part of D’Jenn’s forearm. The sensation was distant, as if a wet blanket had been tossed over his mind. Every movement as Allen tried to help him stand made his stomach heave and his knees buckle. The world blurred past his eyes while that vicious hum made his bones sing.

  “D’Jenn!” Allen’s voice cut through the haze. “Gods damn it all—D’Jenn!”

  “Spell…” D’Jenn fumbled his words. “The…spell.”

  With an effort of will, D’Jenn put his Kai to sleep and ripped his magic away from the terrible noise. The world invaded his senses, slapping him with the taste of labored breathing and the sensation of cold sweat over his skin. He clutched to Allen for a moment, steadying his weight on his feet.

  “The Nar’doroc!” D’Jenn shared a frightened look with Allen. “We’ve got to—”

  A horrified scream cut through the air, drawing the eyes of both D’Jenn and Allen back to the effigy. Dormael was clutching to the side of the crude statue, struggling with something made of whipping silvery tendrils. Dormael’s screams startled a flock of birds from the overgrown valley. They flew to the west, calling their displeasure behind them.

  The silence spell—I dropped it when I forced my Kai to sleep!

  Dormael took a deep, ragged breath and screamed again, his voice full of pain.

  “We have to do something!” Allen said. “Get him out of there!”

  D’Jenn nodded and scrambled atop the wall, trying to get a better look at what was happening. He could see little but Dormael’s back, which was now locked tight in a painful spasm. Silver threads wrapped around his arms and shoulders, clutching to his neck like a snake choking its victim. D’Jenn’s heart jumped into his throat.

  With a deep breath to steady his mind, D’Jenn once again opened his Kai.

  The grating noise of the Nar’doroc’s song had fallen to a buzz on the edge of the ether. Its vo
ice was a dissonant warble that made D’Jenn’s teeth hurt. He could pick out the song of Shawna’s armlet, lilting and metallic, as angry and fierce as the flame it commanded. The second piece of the Nar’doroc had a different song—a voice low and rhythmic, which made D’Jenn’s bones vibrate with its tonal shifts. The two songs collided, their energies trying to intertwine. Despite the differences between the two voices, D’Jenn could sense they were meant to sing together, like separate instruments playing the same tune.

  Between the warring songs was a different energy. It encased the lower voice in a magical cushion, which prevented the two songs from entwining. Each time the substance of the Nar’doroc’s pieces tried to rush together, the magic acted as a barrier, diverting the attempts with dissonant flashes of energy.

  The whole thing was a storm in D’Jenn’s senses, making it difficult to concentrate. He tried to wall off the sensations in his Kai, erecting mental buffers to the effects of the mind-jarring noise in the ether. After a few moments of hard focus, he opened his eyes and looked to Allen, who stood at the edge of the boneyard like he was ready to dash inside.

  “Be ready!” D’Jenn said. “I’m going to try and pull him out!”

  “What happens if the Nar’doroc comes with him?” Allen looked to the effigy. “Will it do something to—”

  Angry howls erupted from the valley, sending chills over D’Jenn’s body. He turned his gaze back to the square, his concentration to the matter at hand, and drew in his power. There was no time to think, no time to worry about consequences.

  Adversity is part of life.

  Clenching his teeth against the noise in his mind, D’Jenn reached into the storm of power with his Kai. The energies surrounding Dormael were volatile, and they slammed into D’Jenn’s magic like a whirlwind made of searing light. D’Jenn narrowed his focus, concentrating on keeping his magic contained in the shape of his will. With a feeling akin to reaching into the center of an angry beehive, D’Jenn sent his power through that storm of energy and grasped hold of Dormael’s body.

  The Nar’doroc continued to sing, the two melodies throwing themselves at one another, continuously rebuffed by the magic between them. D’Jenn endured the flashes of searing energy as they warred with each other and struggled to hold the form of his spell against the interference. With a surge of will, he tore Dormael free of the effigy’s belly.

  The Nar’doroc came with him, whipping at the air like an angry mass of tentacles. It was wrapped around Dormael’s body, clutching him like an insect. D’Jenn worked with care, bringing Dormael over the pile of bones with intense focus. The warring songs tore at the fabric of his magic, but D’Jenn persevered, pulling in more power to counteract the energy being ripped away. After a few tense moments, he deposited his cousin’s body to the ground outside the wall of the square.

  Allen made to rush to Dormael’s side but balked at the sight of the Nar’doroc. The silvery tendrils scored lines in the wall and tore ruts in the dirt as they whipped about. Allen gave D’Jenn a helpless look and opened his mouth to speak, but before the words could form on his lips, another howl rose from the overgrown valley beyond the square.

  Allen gestured to the Nar’doroc. “Can’t you do something about that?”

  Just as D’Jenn was about to reply, Dormael came awake with a pained, ragged gasp. He sat upright, hands still clutched to the writhing mass of the Nar’doroc, and bared his teeth in a snarl. Raising the ancient weapon to the air, he fixed it with a enraged scowl.

  “You!” Dormael hissed through his teeth, shaking the thing in his hands. “You did this!”

  “Dormael!” Allen shared a bewildered look with D’Jenn. “What are you doing?”

  Dormael slammed the Nar’doroc to the dirt, his mouth twisted into an angry scowl. He shifted his weight atop the thing, baring down like a man trying to strangle an opponent. His eyes stayed fixed to the Nar’doroc.

  “This is what you would give to me?” Dormael snarled the words through his teeth. “This?!”

  Just as Allen was about to leap on Dormael’s back, the struggle abated. The warring tendrils of metal slithered back to Dormael’s hands, reverting into a pair of silver armlets. As the Nar’doroc released him, Dormael came to his senses. He looked around, noticing Allen and D’Jenn for the first time, and glanced down at his hands. With a curse, he scrambled away, slapping at his hands like he’d been elbow-deep in an anthill.

  The bands of the two armlets were twined through one another like the links of a chain. Where Shawna’s armlet was curved and sinuous, the new piece was blocky and ordered, like the patterned knots so prevalent in Farra-Jerran artwork. The gem was a milky amber color with veins of white and red.

  “I saw what it did.” Dormael stared at the Nar’doroc with haunted eyes. “Oh, gods. I saw what it did.”

  Allen shared a concerned look with D’Jenn before pulling Dormael from the ground and returning his satchel. Dormael reached out and snatched the two pieces of the Nar’doroc as he rose, a mystified expression still painting his features. D’Jenn thought about protesting when Dormael dropped the pair of armlets into his bag but decided to save the argument for another time.

  What did he see? What did it show him this time?

  “It took me there.” Dormael fumbled as Allen shoved his spear into his hands. “It showed me.”

  “Showed you what?” Allen steadied his brother’s hands and glanced up as another wave of howls split the air. “Worry about this later! We have to move!”

  “Go!” D’Jenn gestured toward the mountain path. “I’ll slow them down!”

  Allen nodded and turned to usher Dormael toward the safety of the mountain. D’Jenn scrambled atop the wall, reopening his Kai and filling himself with magic. Now that the Nar’doroc had stopped singing, his power came to him unabated, humming in the center of his being like a ball of warm light.

  From his vantage point atop the wall, D’Jenn could see Garthorin rousing in the overgrown city. He spotted one, then another, then packs of the creatures sniffing around. They weren’t rushing toward the square but searching through the city in separate groups.

  Perhaps the distance distorted the sounds of Dormael’s screams. They don’t yet know where we are.

  It wouldn’t be long until they found out. Once the horde had the party’s trail, it would pursue them with relentless hunger. D’Jenn considered using illusions to deter them, perhaps a trick of the wind to hide their scent.

  If the Nar’doroc wakes up again and starts making noise, subtle deceptions will be useless. I need a real barrier between us and them. Another cool wind blew from the north, fluttering the growth choking the city. The breeze brought the smell of rain and pine.

  Time to make a bad choice.

  Of all the elemental forces a wizard could summon, fire was one of the most dangerous. It was easy to call up a flame, and there were a thousand ways to do it. Once fire was summoned, it was hard to control. Fire was violent, hungry, and it consumed everything it touched. Wizards exercised great focus to keep fire under control, to curtail its destructive nature.

  Destruction was exactly what D’Jenn wanted.

  Sending his senses outward, D’Jenn brought little flames into being, setting them in the underbrush with bursts of magical energy. Smoke rose into the air as D’Jenn worked, raising wispy white fingers to the sky. Flames burst from the underbrush, spreading from different points in the city. The air crackled as the grass caught fire.

  D’Jenn withdrew his magic and sent it soaring into the wind. Moving air could be difficult if one did it by force, but by nudging at the cold air above the valley, D’Jenn was able to get a gentle breeze to wash over the brush, feeding the fires he’d started. Noises of alarm rose from the other side of the flames.

  Heat waves distorted the air as smoke billowed from the underbrush. D’Jenn stayed as long as he dared, pumping energy into the wind, feeding his flames until a blaze was roaring on the hillside. When the heat from the fire reached him, D’Je
nn hopped down from the wall. With one last look at the effigy, he ran for the mountain path.

  The howls of angry Garthorin rose behind him.

  ***

  Bethany turned as a noise rose from the direction of the valley. “What’s happening?”

  Shawna stopped walking and turned a concerned look behind them. A moment passed in tense silence. Bethany focused on her hearing, blocking out the noise of the wind and the rush of blood in her ears.

  Dormael’s voice cut through the air—he’s in pain!

  “We have to help them!” Bethany opened her eyes and turned to run back to the valley.

  Shawna was there in an instant, gripping Bethany’s shoulder in a tight hand. Bethany tried to pull herself free, but Shawna was stronger than she looked. Bethany turned and glared at the woman.

  “Let me go!”

  “Quiet!” Shawna’s eyes were locked to the valley.

  “But—”

  The valley erupted with the howls of Garthorin. Bethany’s stomach tightened. She made to pull free of Shawna, but the woman tightened her grip further.

  “Wait!” Shawna watched the valley with a tense expression on her face. “Stay here!”

  Bethany jerked her arm free with an angry gesture. “You don’t get to order me around!”

  Shawna turned a shocked, indignant glare on Bethany. Bethany returned the look with a challenge on her face, refusing to back down. Shawna made to speak, but before the words came out, Allen and Dormael huffed into sight.

  “Come on!” Allen steadied Dormael, who looked dizzy on his feet. “You’re going in the wrong direction!”

  Shawna flashed Bethany an angry look before running to help the struggling pair. Bethany trotted behind her, heart beating a fierce rhythm. Her ears felt as hot as her blood. She tried to remember what D’Jenn had said in the underground chamber, but the longer she looked at Shawna, the more she wanted to scream.