by D. M. Almond
Hublin pulled the girl and her mother to their feet and led them back to the bonfire.
For hours they laughed and made merry with the townsfolk. Every time Hublin stopped to rest a bit, another mug of honeywine or leg of lizard was shoved into his hands. The night stretched by, and he finally found himself staggering away from the celebration, back to his cottage.
Hublin heard a twig snap to his left, from beneath the trees and mushrooms lining the town. He stopped for a moment and tried to get a look at the source. “Eh? What’s that now?” he slurred.
The sound of music and dancing was suddenly invaded by a great howling. One of the miners ran into the fray with an arrow stuck in his right shoulder blade. He stopped in the square and screamed, “Cobolds!”
Dozens of the hairy humanoids, which looked like a twisted versions of the gnomes, rushed upon the people, braying like bloodthirsty animals. In an instant the world became madness, a flurry of poison-tipped arrows and rusty daggers cutting into gnome skin. All around Hublin, townsfolk fled for their lives.
In his tomb the Necromancer turned and groaned, the nightmare stirring him from his slumber. Outside the walls he could hear the scraping sound again. Someone was coming. He growled in the pit of his throat like a rattlesnake and drifted back into the vision.
Hublin was on his knees, sobbing and cradling the bloody body of a little girl with red pigtails. Beside him lay a miner riddled with arrows. All around him, the gentle gnomes were crying over their loved ones, and a field of death surrounded the great crackling bonfire. The cobolds had wiped out almost the entire village before leaving with their spoils.
“My baby!” Mrs. Perks wailed, running over to Hublin and wrenching her daughter away. She cradled Ginnie’s limp body against her chest, sobbing and petting her hair in a state of shock. “Ohm, why did this happen? Why did you let them take my baby from me?”
Hublin sat on his knees, staring at his blood-soaked palms. He did not understand. His Lord said he had the strength to fight this evil, yet when it came, he was as helpless as a babe.
He gritted his teeth and slammed his forehead into the rocky ground, cracking it open after the third hit. Villagers had to jump on him and pin down his arms to make him stop.
Hublin’s vision blurred with tears and blood. He gazed up at the cavern ceiling and saw his future clearly for the first time. “I wasn’t strong enough to save them,” he babbled. “Ohm wants me to be like him.”
He shook off the gnomes and gazed into the bonfire. A cobold’s body cooked in its flames, and the cleric’s eyes crackled with the same madness overtaking his twitching lips. “I, Hublin Hofflton, vow to seek the strength of the gods. I swear to become the Light Bringer. I alone will overthrow the darkness.”
The Necromancer stirred again, but did not wake this time. However, in the waking world, his corporeal form cackled in delirious rejoicing. They were coming. Soon they would be here, and after all these longs years, he would finally be free again.
Chapter 1
Corbin Walker shifted his weight, masterfully balancing the voulge in a swooping motion toward the ground, only reversing it at the last possible second in order to throw himself into a sidelong dash and jab the weapon at his invisible enemy. It was a routine he had been working on for weeks now, ever since they had returned to Isaac’s home, the White Tree.
Acadian workers milled about the perimeter of the tree, busy building defensive turrets. Corbin blocked them out, focusing only on his movements, the feel of his weapon, the angle of the wind, all while imagining his enemy. The moves came seamlessly, ingrained in him from a young age through his weekly sessions with sensai Rimball. Lately he found himself lost in these solo practice sessions several times a day. They were the only way he could cope with still being on the surface.
Since arriving at the White Tree, they had worked tirelessly to determine a new route back into the core of Acadia, so he could reunite with his love Elise and help free the people of New Fal from the leeching sentience that was the Great Crystal. Isaac had come up with several ideas that seemed promising, but all had turned out to be dead ends.
One of Queen Tarvano’s engineers, Stana, had devised a brilliant plan to create a new bridge in place of the one Logan had decimated, but it would be a good three months before the Acadians could spare the necessary resources to bring such a project to fruition. Currently, their primary focus was to shore up the defenses of Belikar, a task Corbin could hardly fault them for.
“Master Corbin!” Elijah, Isaac’s frogboy apprentice, called excitedly, hopping out of the White Tree and waving his arms about.
Corbin placed the base of his voulge into the dirt and leaned forward on it, grinning. “What’s going on now?” Elijah was always getting excited over the silliest things.
“It’s Siribel,” Elijah said, grabbing Corbin’s pant leg and tugging him back toward the White Tree. “Master Isaac says you must come right away!”
Corbin’s expression hardened and he fell into a run beside the frogboy. He raced through the White Tree, following Elijah’s lead to Siribel’s quarters. Isaac had fashioned a grand room for the elven seeress, mimicking the architecture of her homeland as best he could. The double doors to her room were curved and came to a point in the middle, with an elaborate moon and stars inlaid in opal over their surface.
Elijah threw the doors wide and stepped aside for Corbin to enter. The room was laid out like a seven pointed star, with walls vaulting to a round opening in the ceiling that showed the boughs of the white tree they were actually inside. A gentle summer breeze blew in through the various round windows dotting the room, billowing silky curtains about. The center of the room was sunken, with dozens of plush pillows set up for the elf to sit on.
The smell of fragrant lilacs hit Corbin as he entered and he saw Siribel, in her long robes, swaying on the floor among the pillows. Her skin had turned a deep golden color since coming to live at the White Tree. In all those years locked away as Duke Thiazi’s prisoner, she had forgotten what it felt like to have the warm radiance of a daystar tan her skin to its natural color.
The air caught in Corbin’s throat when he beheld her eyes. They were deep pools of black. When her head jerked back at an unnatural angle, he moved to help her, but Isaac placed a hand on his chest.
“What’s wrong with her?” Corbin gasped.
Isaac grimly kept his eyes trained on her. “Shh. The seeress is having a vision.”
“What has she said?” Corbin asked. “What is it about?”
Isaac shook his head. “Thus far she only ordered us to bring you here. Wait…here it comes. Watch, listen.”
Siribel jerked violently back and forth and tilted her face toward the circular opening in the center of the ceiling. Her mouth opened wide.
Children of man return to their prison,
Deep in the underbelly,
trapped under the Crystal’s ploy,
Time now to revisit forgotten paths, treacherous and fraught with peril.
“How?” Corbin blurted. “Please, tell me how to get back to Elise.” Isaac steadied him with a frown.
“Down falls the horse’s hoof,
Lost through the gates of Miradùr your path lies.
Drowning the Paladin’s calls,
Where the serpent breaks the shield.
To the north your wandering eye shall fall,
In the land of shadows, where the Healer’s stone hides.
Power enough to shatter the Crystal’s hold over man.
Siribel emitted a strange noise and then her muscles relaxed, dropping her face first into the pillows. Corbin lunged forward and brushed the hair from her face to see if she was alright. Her breath was ragged and deep, but the light had returned to her amythest eyes, and she shot him a weak smile.
“Of course,” Isaac said. “Why didn’t I see it sooner?”
“What does it mean?” Corbin asked.
Isaac shot him a wry grin. “It means we set out at first ligh
t.”
“But…where to?” Corbin asked.
“North…our path lies north.”
It was a warm summer morning on top of the Dùr Cliffs where Corbin and his companion, Bipp, were busy searching the thick tangle of bushes for some sign of red. Corbin was using his voulge, a long spear-like weapon crafted from Falian steel and topped with a tapered blade, to prod the ground around him, occasionally shearing away swatches of foliage to get a better look at the ground.
Bipp employed a different tactic, moving quickly through the thick tangled branches with his body doubled over. It looked an awful lot as if the gnome was moving about on all fours, sniffing the grass for some scent. This caught Corbin’s eye, and he snickered.
“Found anything?” he asked.
Bipp stood upright, a full three feet in height, and his bushy silver hair caught on the breeze coming up from the valley. “No luck here. How about you?”
Corbin was about to shake his head when the daylight caught on a speck of color. Wading as quickly as he could through the thick bramble, he moved to the edge of the cliff, which dropped twelve hundred meters to a wide valley.
The vista was stunning to behold, with jutting spires and a perfectly tiered series of rounded cliffs that looked as if some god had reached down and shaped massive chunks of Acadia into a pristine, white-capped mountain range. Typically areas such as this were barren, but one of the things that made the Dùr Cliffs unique was that the rocky climbs were completely covered in exotic plant life, from a myriad of colorful orchids to large clumps of purple succulents. It was a feast for the senses and a true treasure to behold in the late summer.
“Over here,” Corbin called, not noticing Bipp was already following . His eyes lit up at the sight of the body of a dead imp lying on the ground. The shaft of an arrow was lodged beneath its armpit. Corbin felt no sympathy for the treacherous troublemaker. An entire pack of the flying monsters had been tormenting them for days, growing in numbers the longer they traveled. The companions had spent the entire previous night defending the camp as the red-skinned beasts periodically swooped down out of the sky to raid their supplies.
With each defense they were able to reduce the imps’ numbers until finally the troublesome beasts gave up and fled. Unfortunately, there were still a good deal of supplies unaccounted for, lost in the raid, and they had spent the better part of the morning trying to track down the creatures to salvage what they could.
Bipp whistled appreciatively. “That Nero is one heckuva shot, eh? Got the little bugger right good,” he said, giving the imp a kick for good measure.
Corbin thought even monsters deserved some respect in the afterlife, but he was not about to mention that to the gnome, who held no love for imps. Neither Logan nor Bipp would share just why that was, but Corbin knew it had something to do with their excursion into the Ithiki wilds.
“Looks like this one had some of our water skins,” Corbin noted, pointing the base of his voulge at the animal skin container lying close by.
“Oooh, now that is a good find.”
“Yeah, and it only took an hour to locate,” Corbin grunted. “Now if only the other eight imps would drop in our laps so we can get back to our journey.”
“Make that seven,” Bipp corrected, pointing over the side of the cliff.
Corbin very carefully leaned over the edge. A couple hundred meters down the sheer green cliffs hung a dead imp, its foot caught on the jutting branch of a helum tree.
“Damn. There’s one we’ll not be recovering,” Corbin said, pursing his lips tight. His eyes shifted thoughtfully to Bipp, and he raised a finger, preparing to speak.
“Oh no, you don’t,” the gnome countered. “Ain’t no way you’re using me as bait again.”
“Come on, Bipp, you wouldn’t be bait. I’ll just tie some rope around your waist, and we can lower you…”
“Uh uh, no sir.” Bipp folded his thick arms over his chest and stomped a foot. “You wanna turn someone into a yoyo? Go get your big brother to do it.”
Corbin grimaced, knowing Logan was most likely still asleep back at camp. He did not understand what had gotten into him lately. Ever since they had left Belikar, Logan had been falling back into his old routines. He was never around when it came time to gather food. He stopped practicing his combat maneuvers, no longer having Stur around to motivate him. And he seemed to be sleeping every chance he got.
“Okay, you win,” Corbin ceded. “But let’s try to at least find one more before we head back.”
They scoured the cliffs for another hour and a half, finding only a single dead imp with no supplies near its body. With heads hung low, they returned to camp. Corbin could only hope that Nero and Isaac had had better luck recovering their belongings.
Camp was a short distance to the west, in the midst of the last vestiges of forest that skirted the cliffs. When they walked past their red elks, which Nero had already begun saddling up, Corbin spotted a very happy Isaac, whistling. The mage turned with his arms held wide and a broad grin on his face. Sometimes, under the right light, Corbin could actually see Isaac’s age written in his features. It would only be for an instant, in the flicker of the campfire or dusty light of the three moons, but in that moment Corbin would see all the wrinkles etched on the man’s face, and his normally tangerine-colored eyes would be a sad, lost grey.
This was not one of those times. This morning, Isaac’s ebony skin was smooth as marble, glistening in the daylight, and his eyes were lit up and sparkling. He flashed Corbin a toothy smile and laughed.
“You sure seem happy with yourself. I take it you had some luck?” Corbin asked.
“Indeed, good sir. Me and the tin man had a most fortuitous scavenger hunt. Behold our bounty!” Isaac motioned to the recovered items lying on the ground beside their gear. There were some packs of salted meat, a string of dried fruits, a lasso of rope, and lanis, the sweet bread Kyra had sent them off with.
“That’s a bounty alright,” Corbin complimented.
“And you?”
Corbin held up two arrows and the water skins with an embarrassed cough.
Isaac shrugged. “Well, that’s something, at least.”
Corbin walked over to Nero and handed him the projectiles. “Got some of your arrows back,” he said to the androgynous android, who was busy tying the saddles down and filling the packs.
“Thank you greatly, Corbin,” Nero said with a slight bow. “These are a fortunate find that will aid greatly in our journey to come.”
Try as he might, Corbin could never get used to the rhythmic way in which the android spoke. It was strange and melodious, yet the pause between words was a bit unnerving. He could not figure out why Logan liked the creature so much.
“Don’t mention it. Say, have you seen my brother around?”
“Yes, I have.”
Corbin waited for a moment then realized the android was done speaking. “And where was that?”
“Where do you think he is?” Isaac answered for Nero, thumbing over his shoulder. Corbin spotted his brother sitting in the grass with his back against the fat trunk of a red oak.
Bipp gawked. “He’s still sleeping?”
Nero said, “Master Logan did wake long enough to roll up his sleeping gear and pack his bag.”
“Then why is he asleep again?” Corbin asked.
“He informed us it was time for a nap,” Nero answered.
Corbin rolled his eyes and pointed an accusatory finger at Isaac. “I wish you’d never given him that ridiculous hat,” he said, referring to the wide brim straw hat that Isaac had gifted Logan when they stopped by the White Tree. The mage promised it would help with his sunburn, but it immediately turned into Logan’s sleeping device, blocking out just the right amount of daylight from Themis to let him doze off whenever he wanted.
Isaac did not seem to hear Corbin, muttering to himself and laughing while he picked some mint leaves from around the base of a nearby tree.
“Sometimes I don�
�t even know why I bother trying,” Corbin mumbled.
Bipp slapped his leg and pointed to Logan. “C’mon, I’ve got an idea.”
Corbin followed the gnome over to his brother, who was snoring loudly under the shade of the hat. Bipp’s stubby fingers went into the satchel at his side and came out with an oversized conch that the gnome had carved into a bullhorn of sorts. He waggled his eyebrows, waving the shell in the air toward Corbin, and giggled as he tiptoed closer to the tree. Corbin had to stifle a chuckle at his comical little friend.
Bipp moved the shell close to Logan’s head and took a deep breath until his cheeks were rosy puffs. He placed his lips on the conch and got ready to give the biggest blow he could muster.
“If you so much as whistle through that thing, I’m going to get up and throttle you,” Logan deadpanned without lifting his head.
Bipp let the air out in a long sigh, looking thoroughly dejected to have his prank ruined. He kicked some dirt and rubbed his bulbous nose. “At least then you’d be up.”
Logan pushed the brim of his silly straw hat up and opened one eye, taking in the sight of the gnome. Not many people could get to him, but Bipp was his best friend, and seeing him upset plagued Logan’s heart with guilt. With a groan, he stretched out his arms and pulled himself to his feet. “Alright already, I’m awake. Are you happy now?”
Bipp hopped in the air with a foolish grin, nodding before heading over to finish packing their things. “Knew I could get you off your tukhus!”
“You know, we’d be much happier if every day didn’t turn into another round of waiting for you before we can get on the road again,” Corbin scolded.
Logan leaned against the red bark and grabbed his ankle, pulling it up toward his back in a stretch. His body ached from head to toe. He was going to need to work out the kinks before hopping back on that red elk today. “Easy for you to say. You have the energy of a mongoose. Honestly, I don’t know how you expect me to keep up at this pace.”
