by Liam Reese
Her bright green dress flowed around her ankles and her hair bounced as she walked, people staring at her as she passed but not making eye contact with her. The day was sunny and warm, mid-morning sun caressing her back as she walked boldly up to the door in the curtain wall and looked at it curiously.
Thick and strong looking the gate had been built from oak and iron, designed to withstand an attack if one ever came, she thought. Collise’s first thought was to burn through the thing but realized it would take hours even if it did work. She had no idea how hot her fire could be but it was probably not hot enough to melt iron.
Tracing her fingers over the gate made something odd tug inside her chest and she leaned against the gate, resting her head on it. A feeling of detachment washed over Collise as she stood there, as if she was no longer inside her own body but had somehow become part of the gate. It was extraordinarily odd but when she finally returned and opened her eyes, the gate was open.
Collise took a breath and shoved the gate, opening it and stepping inside.
Something had set fire to the overgrown trees and plants inside. The ground had a thin layer of pale gray ash over it, as undisturbed as fresh fallen snow. Blackened, charred branches lay to both sides of the path she could see had been burned through the middle of this shrubbery. Her eyes followed the path all the way to the palace building itself and widened when she saw where her father had lived.
Apprehension gripped her chest as she walked towards the blank, dead eyes of the palace buildings, dark windows that had once contained glass now stood gaping in the morning sun.
Not eyes. More like mouths.
The thought made Collise shiver but she managed to force herself onward, reaching a door that would let her in.
Her hand shook as she reached for the handle but she kept telling herself this was just an empty building, her father was not here, over and over like a mantra. Ice cold iron greeted her hand and a deep click echoed from the door as she turned the handle. It slid open on silent hinges, revealing a dark world of dust and insects.
Collise took a brave step inside, the temperature dropping as she entered, and looked around. Details were hard to make out but she could see walls and floor were damp with moss growing in places. As her eyes adjusted to the dark interior she started to pick out a few more shapes, darker patches were doors or hallways while the walls came to her as lighter patches.
Heart pounding, Collise tiptoed through the entrance hall and into a large room. Unable to see the walls or ceiling she gingerly stepped across the dusty floor. Coming to a thick pillar she stopped, finding a large metal construct there. Filled with candles and candle stubs, she realized this would have been lit at one point bringing life to the room.
Without a thought Collise raised her hand, a gout of flame rushing forth and lighting several of the candles. A warm glow issued, chasing the shadows away and Collise walked around the throne room, igniting any candles or lamps she found.
Her eyes fell on the throne and she crossed to it, walking up the few steps to the raised dais and laying a tentative finger on the dusty, gilded seat. A pile of rotting cloth lay in a bundled heap behind it, giving off a damp, mushroom like smell that she actually found quite pleasant. Collise sat in her father’s throne.
My throne.
Feeling the hardness cut into her. She would have to get some cushions if she was going to use it. She sat there for a little while, pretending she was surrounded by gaily dressed courtiers all vying for her attention. Eventually bored she jumped down from the dais and turned to the door at the back of the room.
She took a lantern from the wall, lit the wick with a touch of her finger and held it before her as she walked along the corridor she found herself in. Damp and musty it smelled of mildew and rot, making her nose wrinkle as she progressed.
The scream that tore from her throat was accompanied by a wave of fire that lanced from her hand when a figure crept out of the darkness. Flames curled around the person, incinerating his clothing and licking up his body as she sent wave after wave of fire at whoever this was.
Eventually, realizing there was no screaming or running, Collise extinguished her flame and looked at what was there. Dead, stone eyes stared out of a blackened, charred face as the last vestiges of his clothing burned away.
A mad laugh bubbled up inside Collise when she saw it was a statue. Lifelike and wearing old clothing but a statue nonetheless. She chuckled to herself as she carried on down the Hall Of Kings, coming across more statues as she went.
Piles of splintered wood lay at the far end of the hall and she looked around to see there had been a door blocking one of the rooms at one point. Stepping inside she held up the lamp to see a table, ornately carved and inlaid with silver in strange patterns. Collise wondered at the strange thing as it seemed so completely out of place in this dying, crumbling building. The wood looked clean, polished and bright, reflecting the light from her lamp as she ran her fingers across its surface.
An odd feeling pulsed through Collise then. A similar detachment to when she had opened the palace gate. This time, however, rather than leaving her body, it felt as if something came in.
Collise took her hand from the table and walked from the room.
Who are you? The voice came from inside Collise but had not been her.
I am Collise. Who are you?
The girl felt a presence within her, as if she were not alone inside her own head and her heartbeat hammered in her chest when the thought came back to her.
Tiernon. I am Tiernon.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“What in the name of the Gods was that?” Zaynorth demanded as the grunting howl droned on.
“I’ve got no idea,” Besmir said, “but we need to get back to the others and find out.”
Grabbing the map he rolled it up roughly and sprinted across the room, skirted the room that had the raised platforms in it and dashed back into the room where his companions were.
Arteera was on her feet, staring around in fright. Founsalla Pira stood with his back to the wall at one side of the door, peering out and even Cal Trin had risen at the sound of whatever this was.
The horses whinnied and shuffled nervously as the sound drew to a close, leaving an eerie silence in its wake.
“No one said anything about massive beasts in this land,” Besmir whispered as he grabbed his bow and slung a quiver of arrows over one shoulder.
“No one comes here to see if there are any,” Pira said, still looking out into the darkness. “Expeditions stopped coming here when they failed to return,” he looked round. “As I said it is a cursed land.”
Arteera whimpered when the deep, grunting howl came again. Nothing with any trace of humanity left in it could have voiced the sound and Besmir went to her, wrapping one arm over her shoulder and feeling her body tremble.
“What is it?” She asked in a querulous voice.
“Let me see if I can find out,” Besmir said.
He loosed his mind, floating free of his body and soaring up through the roof to look down on the landscape below. Lighting up the world like stars in the heavens were the traces of life around him. Bats chased insects off to one side, mice foraged for seeds in the scrub grass below at the same time as being hunted by wild cats. All this life, however, was overshadowed by the deformed thing that he could see.
He flashed over to it, trying to leap into its mind and take control of the thing so he could turn it from them. Once inside the creature Besmir discovered it had once been human and although it was a base and simple thing now, he could not control it in any way. He did manage to glean the fact it could smell them and the horses, both of which it thought of as an easy meal.
The Gazluthian king pulled back, hovering before the thing and wondering what power could have changed this thing so much. He flashed back to his body, feeling the warmth of life surrounding him again.
“It’s some kind of mutation,” he said grimly. “Similar to the Oskapi but much
bigger and it can smell the horses.”
Besmir avoided telling them it could smell them too, knowing the information would simply frighten them even more.
“Do you think it will just go away?” Arteera asked hopefully.
Besmir shook his head.
“It’s hungry,” he said. “But we might be able to hide from it. Take the horses through there and into some of the other rooms.”
“By the Gods!” Pira shouted. “If we are to hide we had better be going soon, the thing is immense.”
Besmir gently shoved Arteera towards the door leading to the room with the platforms inside as he stooped to grab their packs. Founsalla Pira was busy telling Cal Trin what was happening in the Corbondrasi tongue as they began leading the horses towards the door with Zaynorth.
Besmir watched as they rounded the corner, the horses needing virtually no encouragement to get away from the beast that was approaching, then turned to see it coming through the doorway.
It had worked itself up into a frenzy, not used to entering buildings to get food, and Besmir watched its chest heave as it growled and snarled its way inside. The firelight picked out a few features as it approached, sniffing the air. Thick, sinewy muscle flexed beneath a dark hide that featured shaggy fur in patches. It stood around eight feet in height and had to stoop to enter the room. Vaguely humanoid in shape, it had four limbs and a head but there the similarities ended. Besmir saw its arms were far longer than any human, hands almost grazing the floor as it shuffled across the room. Those hands were bunched into loose fists at the moment but each fist was easily the size of his head.
Besmir drew an arrow silently and put it to his bowstring, flexing the weapon a little. The creature’s head came round as soon as his bow creaked and its violent eyes fixed on him. It let out a soul chilling scream, a challenge to Besmir as soon as it recognized he was a threat.
The hunter king drew his bow to full power and loosed the arrow. It shot across the room with a satisfying whoosh followed by the deep thump and grunt of pain as it hammered into the creature’s chest.
Besmir’s heart sank when he saw the arrow had barely penetrated the thing’s tough hide and knew they were in trouble. He stepped back into the room his companions had escaped through, relieved to see they had already gone into the map room. He sprinted after them as the sound of massive feet pounded behind him.
Besmir turned to see the creature slam itself through the doorway, snapping pieces from the wall as it stumble through. He lanced fire towards it, singing and burning the hair from it and making the thing recoil from the heat.
By the time he had made it into the map room, Besmir was panting, adrenaline and fear making his body work hard. Zaynorth was trying to steer his horse through into the cavernous room but the animal appeared to be fighting him for some reason. Besmir leaped across the stone table and lunged at the animal’s hindquarters, slapping the muscle there hard. The horse leaped forward, hooves slipping and skidding on the stone floor, dragging the old man through the door with it.
Inside Besmir found Cal Trin and Pira had lit a number of torches, leaning them against walls and even just laying them on the floor as they prepared weapons to fight the monster.
Besmir saw they were on a platform that overlooked the immense pit but was still unable to see the bottom of it from where they were. Zaynorth had narrowly avoided being dragged over the side to fall into the pit by the horse Besmir had slapped and looked at his king with an angry glare as he led the animal over to the other horses.
Arteera’s scream split the air as she saw the creature enter the room they were in. Fully revealed by the torchlight now, Besmir could see it was a blunt faced thing, almost like a bear with a flattened nose but with no fur to cover its ugliness. Its beady little eyes shone in the torchlight, swinging to focus on the horses as drool flowed from its mouth and down its chest.
Turning its attention to Besmir again the thing screamed, lumbering forward to lash at him with its long arms. He saw it had sharp, black claws at the end of its fingers when they passed within inches of his face, the breeze from the blow cold on his skin.
With its attention on Besmir, Cal Trin lashed forward, his blade stabbing at the thing’s armpit, sinking in a little way. It turned with deceptive speed, hammering one hand into the Corbondrasi who crumpled under the blow, flying a few feet before landing hard against one wall.
Founsalla Pira stabbed at the thing as it turned back to Besmir, lancing his blade in behind its knee joint. It screamed as the metal bit into its leg, smashing one hand down against Pira’s sword and wrenching it from his hand. Besmir saw the thin man fall back, clutching his shoulder with an expression of agony on his face.
Besmir loosed a barrage of lightning at the thing, making it writhe and twitch as its muscles contracted and a deep bellow issued from its mouth. Despite being ravaged by his power, the creature managed to reach for Besmir and he had to throw himself to one side, his lightning fading.
The king rolled to a stop, turning to see where the thing was going next. His heart almost stopped when he saw Zaynorth stepping across to confront the creature. The old man was muttering something as he walked confidently across to the beast.
“Zay!” Besmir cried. “Stop!”
The old mage ignored him and walked straight up to the creature, still muttering, his beard moving. The creature looked about, its gaze glossing over Besmir and the horses as he watched. It sniffed the air and grunted something before staring out into the darkness of the chasm. A snarl bared its teeth as it looked at something in the darkness and without warning the eight foot beast sprinted for the chasm.
Besmir rolled over as it passed him, following its passage as it raced towards the rusted remains of the railing. Centuries of decay had turned the rails into little more than piles of rust and the creature exploded over the edge, screaming as it fell to be swallowed by the blackness.
Cautiously Besmir approached the edge as the creature fell, still screaming, the sound becoming ever more faint until abruptly it ceased.
How deep is it?
He turned to where Cal Trin and Arteera were trying to help Founsalla Pira to his feet. It was obvious to Besmir the ambassador’s shoulder had been dislocated by the savage blow the creature had delivered. Cal Trin himself looked to have labored breathing and was favoring his right leg and arm as he moved.
“What happened?” Besmir asked Zaynorth as the pair strode across to their companions.
“I made it believe the horses were running away and put the image of a floor in the chasm,” Zaynorth replied. “The thing gave chase and fell into the pit.”
Besmir could not believe the easy, almost casual way the old man explained what he had done.
“How did you know it would work?” He asked.
“I didn’t,” Zaynorth said. “Yet you said it was similar to the Oskapi and they were once human so...” The old mage spread his hands.
“And if it hadn’t worked?” Besmir demanded.
“I expect it would have killed us all,” Zaynorth said in a similarly blasé manner.
Founsalla Pira looked paler and sicker than he normally did when they crossed to where he had been propped against the wall. Arteera was busy piling the torches to form a makeshift campfire to keep them all warm.
“I must apologize, majesty,” Pira said in a breathless, shaking voice. “I’ve been so remiss as to suffer a dislocated shoulder.”
Besmir smiled, even in the midst of such pain the wiry ambassador kept his sense of humor.
“And I must apologize,” Besmir said grimly. “As it’s really going to hurt to pop that back in.”
“I can help with that,” Zaynorth said.
Besmir nodded and turned to Cal Trin who had lowered himself to the ground not far from Pira.
“How are you?” He asked, waiting for Pira to translate.
“I’m well enough,” the ambassador spoke the other Corbondrasi’s words for him. “Scrapes and bruises is all. I have sp
ringy bones that don’t break easily.”
Besmir nodded and turned back to Pira.
“I’m going to need you to lay on your back,” he said.
The wiry half Corbondrasi shifted, grunting as he moved, but managed to lay down. Zaynorth knelt beside him and started mumbling words in his ear.
“The sun is warm on your face. You can smell the grasslands of Gazluth with every breath and a summer breeze brings the scent of apples to you.”
Besmir saw Founsalla smile as the illusion took shape in his mind. Zaynorth nodded to him and carried on muttering as Besmir reached down and took hold of the man’s wrist. He slowly drew the hand up, pushing down lightly on Pira’s thin chest with his other hand until the joint jumped back in with a light thump.
The slightest moan came from his throat as the shoulder relocated but nothing like the screaming Besmir had heard from others. Besmir looked at Zaynorth who was still washing the man’s brain with calming, peaceful images and wondered what his life would have been like if the creature had killed the old man. Growing up without a father had deprived Besmir of many of the qualities a good father imparted to his son but he had come to depend on the old man, seeing him as a substitute for his father in some strange way.
“Can you make a sling please, love?” He asked Arteera who was already cutting a large triangle from a piece of cloth.
“Far ahead of you,” she said with a scared smile.
Besmir wrapped his arms around her, feeling the trembling in her body.
“It’s dead,” he assured her. “It’s gone.”
“That one is,” she said. “What if there are more?”
Besmir watched the others glance nervously at each other until Zaynorth stood from Pira’s side.
“Then we shall deal with them,” he said confidently.
“I don’t want you putting yourself in danger again,” Besmir said to him.
