Dreaming in the Dark_Chains of the Fallen Volume 1

by James E. Wisher

  “No. I wanted you with me before I reached out. Ready?”

  Damien took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Ready.”

  Lizzy smiled and took her hand from his grasp. She raised both arms and spread them wide. He doubted that was all there was to it, but whatever psychic thing she was doing wasn’t visible.

  She held the pose for what seemed a long time before finally a blot of darkness formed. It was even less distinct than at their first encounter. Something must be very wrong for the presence to be so reduced.

  “Hurry,” it said. “Protector. Controlling. Octagonal tower.”

  The presence burst like an overfilled balloon. Damien glanced at Lizzy. “Did that make any sense to you?”

  “Not much. The power restraining it has increased in intensity. It felt like it took every bit of power the presence could muster just to tell us that much.”

  “I guess it’ll have to do.” He blinked and returned to his body. “Have you seen an octagonal tower around here by any chance?”

  Dorius leapt a foot off the roof when Damien spoke. “Gah! Give me some warning next time. Octagonal tower did you say? Let me think.”

  The professor paced and tapped his temple, muttering “octagonal” over and over again. While he considered, Damien sent a scout bug out for a look around. He hadn’t noticed anything fitting the description during his earlier search, but maybe with a specific target he’d have better luck.

  Damien watched the city zip by on his viewer. There were hundreds of towers, but most of them were the spiral sort they’d passed earlier. He ignored the living quarters. From its position near the roof, the bug looked out over the whole city. In the center, what he’d taken for a massive support pillar actually looked like it had flat sides.

  He guided the bug closer and flew it around the perimeter. Eight sides.

  “I have it!” Dorius shouted.

  “Me too.” Damien showed him the image. “Is this what you were thinking?”

  Dorius nodded. “There are no doors on it so I assumed it was something they hadn’t gotten to yet.”

  “Yeah. I’d say it’s time for a closer look. You should probably stay here.”

  “Absolutely not.” Dorius looked as determined as Damien had seen him. “This is my life’s work. I have no intention of missing out on a major discovery.”

  “If we run into trouble, I might not be able to protect you.”

  Dorius waved him off. “I’m sure you’ll do your best and the risk is mine to take. Whatever’s in there, I want to see it.”

  “Fair enough.” Damien wrapped them in a soul force bubble and flew from their perch to the tower.

  He made a slow circle around the pillar before landing. Up close it was even more massive than he’d first thought. Perhaps it did play some sort of structural role. The surface was rough stone. That should have tipped him off right there that something was off about the pillar. It was the only stone in the cavern that wasn’t smooth.

  Dorius ran his hands all over the side facing them. He listened, ear pressed against the tower. Hell, he even sniffed around like a dog hunting a rabbit.

  After a few minutes Damien said, “More aggressive measures may be necessary if we want access to the interior.”

  Dorius winced. “Please be careful. This is an archeological find of irreplaceable worth. If you could keep the damage to a minimum, I’d be grateful.”

  Damien nodded, not making any promises. If it was a choice between protecting the tower and stopping whatever controlled the lizards, the choice was easy. “Move back.”

  When the professor had shuffled a safe distance away, Damien raised his hand and sent a focused beam of soul force lancing into the stone. His probe penetrated the rock wall with ease and after a foot he reached a hollow space.

  So far so good. Whoever built this structure hadn’t bothered to line it with the crystal. That made his job much easier.

  Damien cut a round plug out of the wall and pulled the massive disk free. It crashed to the floor, smashing a dent in the street.

  “Careful, careful!” Dorius gave the dent such a mournful look that you’d have thought Damien had dropped the stone on his puppy.

  Damien ignored the professor and focused on the interior of the tower. He’d cut into a staircase that ran in a spiral up and down. Up didn’t surprise him, but Damien hadn’t realized there was a level below this one.

  “Up or down you think?”

  I can’t sense anything either way.

  Neither could Damien. He shrugged and glanced toward Dorius. “You coming?”

  “Yes, I’m right behind you.”

  Damien stepped through, thought better of it, and hovered over the steps. If they turned into a slide, he didn’t plan on ending up in a spiked pit. He lifted the professor up beside him and raised an eyebrow. “Which way?”

  “Up,” Dorius said without hesitation. “If someone is here, they’ll have an unobstructed view of the city from somewhere near the ceiling.”

  He couldn’t argue with that. They flew slowly upward. Damien strained every sense, both magical and mundane, to detect either danger or whoever controlled the lizards. He and the professor might have been the only people in the world for all he felt.

  Since they were going around as well as up, Damien couldn’t tell how much progress they were making. The complete lack of landings or rooms surprised him. Was the core solid or were the doors hidden?

  It didn’t matter, but not knowing was driving him nuts along with the fear of some enemy leaping out from a hidden door. Jen had played that game at the Lord Mayor’s mansion in Port Valcane and she hadn’t enjoyed it at all.

  “Amazing, isn’t it?” Dorius whispered, his tone reverent. “All my years of study and I hadn’t the least idea this was here. How many more secrets have I missed?”

  Damien was saved from having to answer when the stairway ended at a blank wall. There was a narrow platform in front of it and he risked landing. When nothing happened after a few seconds, he and Dorius started feeling around for anything out out of place

  This stone was as smooth as he’d expected and free of anything resembling a release. He was going to have to cut their way in again.

  “Watch out, Professor.”

  Dorius shot him a pleading look. “Must you?”

  “Unless you have a better suggestion? I’m not planning on standing here until the stone crumbles naturally.”

  “I know, it’s just that the destruction of such an amazing creation pains me.”

  “I’m familiar with pain. Don’t worry, you’ll survive.”

  Damien raised his hand and pointed. Dorius scrambled to one side.

  Before he could unleash the collected soul force, glowing lines outlined a door. It slid into the ceiling revealing a large, round room roughly equal in circumference to the tower. A chair in the center of the chamber swiveled to face them.

  Seated in it was a humanoid being with pale skin, three-fingered hands, and nothing but shallow depressions where its eyes should have been. Its narrow mouth opened, revealing a row of fangs that would have done a goblin proud. It wore an unadorned purple robe and sandals like a monk.

  “I am the Protector,” it said in halting but understandable Common. “I can’t allow you to free the dreamer. The consequences would be worse than you can imagine.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Sig conjured a dome around him and Ilda. Thirteen ogres and only a third of his soul force remaining. This wasn’t going to be easy. At full strength, he doubted he could beat them all, but now…

  He clenched his jaw and let anger replace doubt. Sig was going to kill them for what they did to Ilda. He risked a glance down at her. A pool of blood spread out around her, but he still sensed her life, a weak, flickering flame in danger of going out at any moment.

  Gorn swaggered toward them. “Toss out the talon, human, and your death will be painless.”

  “Take another step,” Sig said. “And I promise you
rs won’t be.”

  Gorn laughed and Sig didn’t blame him. His threat sounded empty and he knew it. Still, he had one trick that might work. They’d practiced fighting berserkers at the Tower and Sig had been training to deal with ogres his whole life. If there was anyone who should be able to get out of this mess it was him. However, if he could end the standoff without risking a fight it might be worthwhile.

  Sig pulled the talon from his belt and held it up. “Take it and go. There’s no need for us to fight.”

  “But there is,” Gorn said. “If I let you live, you’ll just go cut off another talon then I’ll have to fight you in the next round anyway. Better to kill you now. Attack!”

  The ogres vanished as they accelerated to warlord speed.

  He’d always hated that move.

  Sig closed his eyes and focused on his shield. This technique was called reactive targeting and he needed all his attention to pull it off.

  The first blow came a moment later. In the instant of impact, the club and its wielder stopped. That was his moment to strike.

  A soul force lance as big around as Sig’s thumb shot out and smashed through the ogre’s skull, killing it instantly.

  A second blow hit his shield and another ogre met the same fate as the first.

  Two down.

  “Attack together!” Gorn shouted while keeping his distance.

  Sig really wished he hadn’t said that.

  The attacks came fast and furious.

  Sig could only strike one at a time and while he felled three more ogres, his shield had reached the breaking point.

  He didn’t have power enough to hold out.

  It was all or nothing on his last move.

  He transformed the dome into a handful of blades and set them spinning.

  The ogres were moving too fast to avoid them. Red blood and blue skin painted a mural of death in the ice.

  The blades vanished along with the ogres. Only Gorn was still among the living and Sig lacked the power to do anything about it. He pulled the talon from his belt and with the final dregs of his soul force placed a thin sliver of energy inside it.

  Sig hurled the talon at Gorn. “Take it and go or so help me I’ll destroy the cursed thing and you can find your own.”

  Gorn bent down and picked up the talon, pausing for a moment to look it all over. That’s right, idiot, take your time. Every second gave Sig time to regenerate his soul force.

  “I think I’ll kill you anyway.” Gorn took a step toward Sig.

  Sig sent a pulse of soul force into the talon, making it vibrate, and a small fracture appeared in the center. “I won’t tell you again. If you don’t leave now, I’m going to smash it into a thousand pieces.”

  Gorn bared his fangs and snarled. “Have it your way, human. Assuming you can make it out of here, I’ll kill you in the next round.”

  The powdery snow swirled around where Gorn vanished. Sig waited until he was sure the ogre didn’t plan on returning before he flipped Ilda over.

  The spear had pierced her clear through, but at least the gaping wound had stopped bleeding.

  Ilda groaned and her eyes fluttered open. “What?”

  “Don’t talk,” Sig said. “You’ve been badly hurt. I need to remove the spear. Do you have enough soul force to keep from bleeding out?”

  She closed her eyes for a moment. “Barely.”

  “Okay. Once I’ve removed the spear, I’ll use what power I have to help you recover. Ready?”

  She nodded and Sig took a firm grip on the spear shaft. It was damn lucky the head had passed all the way through her body. With a single hard yank, he pulled the shaft clear and tossed the bloody weapon aside.

  The moment his hands were free, he pressed them to the wound and sent a slow trickle of healing energy to knit the muscle and organs back together.

  After a few seconds he found his power meshed naturally with her innate healing ability, augmenting it while being guided. After nearly ten minutes, only a dark scar was left across her abdomen.

  “You saved me again.”

  “You’re welcome again.” He held her hand, utterly exhausted. “After I’ve recovered I’ll fly back down and get another talon.”

  “No, you can have mine. It’s become clear that I lack the strength to serve as the Queen’s Champion. I want you to take my talon and kill Gorn.”

  “What about your war-band?”

  “Most of them resented being led by a female anyway. Thog will stay at my side and that’s enough.” Ilda pulled the talon from her satchel and handed it to him. “Take it. Take it and kill him.”

  Sig accepted the gift with a grim nod. Whatever it took, he’d see Gorn bleeding on the ground before him.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Damien studied the Protector and was studied in return. Without the tower’s magic blocking his sorcerous senses, Damien found the Builder’s core seemed average enough when compared to a human sorcerer. In a duel, Damien wouldn’t have given him a one in ten chance, assuming he didn’t have any special tricks and Damien would never assume that. It was a good way to end up dead.

  Beside him, Dorius practically vibrated with excitement. For him, this must have felt like the culmination of a lifetime’s work. For Damien, it was just another obstacle they needed to clear in order to complete the mission.

  “You’re one of the Builders,” Dorius said. “I have so many questions.”

  “I am of the race you call Builders,” the Protector said in his halting fashion. “It is not what we call ourselves, but our race name would mean nothing to you. Builders is adequate. We have been aware of your poking about in our ancient home for years, Professor Dorius. You have shown great respect in your explorations, though not always prudence.”

  Dorius winced and Damien assumed he was thinking about the goblin incident.

  “If you knew I was here, why didn’t you greet me? I would have loved to meet you and your people.”

  “We do not welcome guests and your mind carries the touch of Dreamer. Since you were no threat to the great seal, we saw no point to interacting with you. When you returned with a sorcerer, matters changed.”

  Dorius flicked a glance at Damien. “I meant no insult. I just needed to see what was behind that door.”

  “I understand,” the Protector said. “That is Dreamer influencing you. I am sure you were not aware of it.”

  This conversation wasn’t getting them anywhere. Dorius could ask all his questions later. For now, Damien needed to know if the Protector intended to let them approach the dreamer or if he was going to try and stop them.

  “Dreamer claims to need our help,” Damien said. “That something terrible is about to happen if we fail to set it free. Is it your intention to stand in our way?”

  “If the door is opened and the wards surrounding him broken, something terrible will happen. I know not what he has seen, Dreamer hasn’t reached out to me. What I do know is that the only thing restraining our greatest enemies is Dreamer’s power. It is my duty to keep them restrained.”

  It was hard to stare someone down when you didn’t have eyes, but the Protector did a credible job of it. Damien glared right back. After all the threats he’d faced, Damien didn’t scare easy.

  Dorius hurried to get between them. “Perhaps if you told us about this threat, we could help you deal with it before we opened the door.”

  The uncomfortable tension broke and the Protector said, “Very well. My people are highly skilled at the sorcerous skill you call shaping. We can work anything, but the one taboo among us is the shaping of another’s flesh. For thousands of years we abided by that rule, until a group of heretics decided they knew better. They began by working on themselves, a frowned upon act by itself, but that didn’t satisfy their curiosity. Soon they moved on to beasts, then intelligent beings like the goblins the professor had the ill luck to encounter.”

  “Let me guess,” Damien said. “They got caught and refused to quit their new hobby.”
<
br />   “Correct. They turned their monsters loose on us, their kindred. The civil war lasted decades and claimed many lives before we finally brought them down. After so many deaths, it was decided to imprison, rather than execute, the traitors. We put them and their creations in special cells before sealing them away with Dreamer’s power. We are not a fertile people and even after thousands of years have yet to recover our numbers. If the heretics and their monsters are freed, the war will begin again. I cannot allow that, no matter the cost to myself or the surface.”

  Damien grimaced. His responsibility was to the kingdom, but he wouldn’t be doing them any favors if in dealing with one threat, he unleashed a second. He hated it when there was no easy solution. If someone could just tell him who to blast it would be so much easier.

  “Wait,” Dorius said. “You told us that the door needed to stay closed and the wards remain undisturbed. So can we not open the door and speak together with Dreamer before dismantling the wards? Perhaps this might be settled without violence.”

  “Possibly, but if the door is opened the wards will be exposed. It would take little effort for a sorcerer to disrupt them.” He shot a look at Damien.

  “If you’re willing to listen, I give you my word not to do anything until after our discussion,” Damien said.

  A moment of silence stretched to near breaking. Damien just started tapping his core when the Protector said, “Very well. If it came to battle, I fear I would not fare well and I have no desire to do anything that might result in dozens more of you humans stumbling around down here and causing who knows what mischief. Let us go and see what the dragon has to say.”

  “Dragon!” Damien and Dorius said in unison.

  “Indeed.” The Protector shot them a toothy smile. “Did you not know that Dreamer is the great black dragon?”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  The Protector led Damien and the professor downstairs to the ground floor. He hadn’t seemed terribly upset at the damage Damien had done to his tower, assuring them that it was a simple thing for him to repair. Since his specialty was shaping, it shouldn’t be a surprise that fixing a hole, even a large one, failed to daunt him.