Crooked Finger and the Warl of the Dead

by Rex Hazelton

  "Ambition is good," the voice wafted out of the darkness filling the hood. "The boon Zylok asks for will be given to him. Make certain he is told this. Also, make certain that he knows the Clay Giants will be totally eradicated if they break the agreement they’ve made."

  ****

  "The man's a twit," one of the Hag said as he watched the king ride back to Plagea's encampment.

  "Don't be crticial," another Hag replied. "Take a lesson from Lord Ab'Don who never looks a gift horse in the mouth."

  Once the Hag had transformed back into black dogs, the three sent out a chorus of howling knowing it would set the Nyeg Warlers' teeth on edge. Why not add to the evening's tension before they began the long run back to the Hall of Voyd where their master waited for them.

  ****

  Riding up to the guards Claude had ordered to wait for him outside the Plagean camp, those who were unaccustomed to leaving his side, the king saw a stranger riding away from his men. “Who was that,” the King asked as he followed the man with his eyes.

  “My Lord,” one of guards lowered his head as he spoke. “He said his name was Shaw. He’s a Tsadal.”

  “There’s fire-blasted few of them around,” the King replied. “But one of the Tsadal that did make it to the war is General Goldan. What did he want?”

  “He asked us where you’d gone.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “We gave him the answer you told us to give anyone who asks: He likes to ride alone for a bit, to clear his mind.”

  “What’d he say to that?”

  “He said something about it being a might dangerous to go off alone, Sire.”

  Looking at Sandyl, a man who was adept at doing the king’s dirty work, Claude nodded at the retreating horseman and said, “Take care of that. I’ll not have anyone snooping around me.”

  That was the last time the king saw his henchman.

  Sandyl didn’t know it but he had more than he could handle with Shaw, seeing that- in times past- the Tsadal did the same work Sandyl did for Claude and much more for Credylnor’s leaders in the darkest chapters of his life. A one-time spy and assassin, Shaw’s interest in Claude was his own, an interest that had arisen during the recent gathering of kings that Goldan had invited him to as a Tsadal representative. Predisposed to be suspicious by reason of experience, Shaw felt there was something odd about Plagea’s king’s behavior in the meeting. Plus, he wasn’t about to forget that the fraethym and Hag, who sought to hurt the Prophetess, were escorted into the meeting by Plagean guards. And by all that’s holy, he wasn’t about to let anything happen to the woman who had became his friend as they traveled to the Temple of the Oak Tree together back when the battle named after the temple was fought there. After all, he gave her credit for saving his soul by changing the negative view he had of others who were not Tsadal.

  Chapter 9: Lylah

  The Battle of Suskynd was in full swing when the waterkynd moved out of the dying Breach Sea and into the Malamor River. Fought at night, the magical fire that was used in the struggle was accentuated against the dark backdrop. A glow like a small sun was rising out of the city marked where the Candle Warriors and Hag pitted their supernatural skills against one another. Intermittent flashes of brilliant illumination revealed where the fighting was most intense.

  Many such flashes burst upon the river's surface as the Candle Warriors stationed on the Bjork longboats fought Laviathon and his viscous brood. Hidden by the steam the piercing flames drew out of the river as the benevolent wizards struck at the massive reptiles, Lylah's misty form wound its way through the chaos that threatened to choke the waterway and keep her from continuing her quest. A fading fountain of fire that fell around her like super-heated rain had little effect on her. How could it when the warl she passed through had only a partial hold on her?

  She was a creature who included warls unseen whenever she used the term home. Still, Laviathon's fire did burn enough so that she avoided coming into contact with it. And the places where the magic infused flame did touch her needed to be healed. Drawing on the river's nutritious flow, Lylah's ethereal body was quick to restore itself as she looked at the conflagration that erupted about her.

  The war the Nyeg Warlers have longed feared has begun, she surmised with the detachment that was common to the waterkynd whenever they brushed up against the affairs of men. Lacking flesh and blood, she was a being removed from the warl of toil and fear that humans lived in. With an existence that only partially manifested itself in the corporeal warl where man lived, Lylah would have had scant interest in battle she passed through. But her love for Kaylan Oakenfel had changed that, the human she had taken as a mate. Impossible to believe such a thing could happen, the Warl's Magic had miraculously bonded the two species together, though species is an inadequate word to use to explain their differences.

  One was female, the other male. Both had an intelligence that surpassed any included among animal kind. Both lived in a community whose structure was not dissimilar. Still, one was made of water and spirit only, while the other was comprised of spirit, flesh and blood. One lived on a single plane of existence, while the other traversed through multiple realities. Nevertheless, the love that Lylah and Kaylan had for one another had driven them to discover magic that would enable the two to be together in the way the waterkynd were when they wed, magic that opened the doors for Kaylan to join Lylah in her journeys to realms beyond man's reach, and as he joined her, Kaylan became a waterkynd for the time he spent traveling with her. Once this was done, the outworking of their pent up passion had sparked a new life in her when they entered the Realm of Vapor, one her mother's prophecies said would come to be called the Mother of the Waterkynd.

  Looking for a place to heal the wounds Laviathon's fire had inflicted on her, Lylah worked her way to an area of water that eddied up against the shore.

  Passing the corpses of both men and crocodon, Lylah avoided the obstacles in her way. At first, that is what they were, obstacles. But when a Bjork floated into the pool her misty form hovered over, she found that she was disquieted by the man's failing efforts to swim. Melding into the river, Lylah took on human form that used the surrounding water to make hands that lifted the struggling man's head up as she carried him to the shallows. Then she surrounded him in a blanket of fog to protect him from hungry crocodon eyes.

  Soothing the Bjork with a voice that sounded like a gentle falling rain, Lylah found she was disturbed by her inability to do more for the man. Why am I troubled so, she examined her wayward emotions. During the countless lives she had lived, Lylah had never been troubled by the horrors men inflicted on one another. Why would she when humans were waterless clouds that appeared and disappeared so quickly they gained little purchase on what really mattered? Their lives were so brief they barely understood the sky that surrounded them, an endless sky filled with the Magic of Life and all the wonders it offered.

  When the man finally succumbed to his wounds and died, Lylah sighed as she saw his spirit depart his body. When she saw his spirit join the great cloud of others that was drifting away from the battlefield where they had died, she sighed again. Then she understood. These people are not so different from me. That's why I fell in love with Kaylan- we both possess a spark of life that supersedes the bodies that house us.

  But there was more to their attraction than this line of reasoning could explain. Kayaln's spark was different from what other humans possessed. It was transcendent in a way that a waterkynd could appreciate. It was more or it wanted more, Lylah couldn't decide. Either way, she was captivated by its uniqueness, by its urge to evolve, an evolution that she herself was experiencing. The proof of this was found in the sorrow she felt over the Bjork's death, a sorrow that was but a drop of water in the ocean of despair she would feel if Kaylan were to die.

  With this in mind, Lylah decided to continue her quest even though her healing was incomplete. She had to find Kaylan whose scent had brought her to Ar Warl.


  Having reached a waterway- a brook, stream or river- Kaylan's blood had been carried to the Breach Sea, then to the Largryk Sea where the Eyre River flowed into it, the river that ran past Mythoria, home of the waterkynd. Drawn to the river's mouth by an instinct that confounded her understanding, Lylah caught the scent of her mate's blood and swept out into the Largryk Sea, then into the Breach Sea, and finally into the Malamor River where the battle raged.

  Lylah was comforted that the spilled blood came from one who was living. But if Kaylan was still alive, why was he still bleeding and how long could he stay alive while doing so? She had to hurry lest the scent changed, heralding Kaylan's death.

  As she readied herself to go, Laviathon's huge triangularly-shaped head rose out of the river near her and vomited flame back at the longboats who were closing in on him. Then he turned and swam away with his brood leaping in and out of the water as they followed him upstream.

  Pricked by intuition's needling, Lylah followed the school of deadly sea serpents as they fled from the waters abutting Suskynd and the feverish fight that took place there. The magic that intermingled with the scent of Kaylan's blood made her do this, magic that had an evil feel similar to what she sensed coming from Laviathon. Something was happening to the man she loved. She feared Kaylan was being tortured, that he was slowly being killed for the pleasure of those who had captured him. Somehow she knew the massive crocodon was tied into what was happening, so she followed him.

  In time, the glow coming from Suskynd could barely be seen behind Lylah. Still, she followed the crocodon who looked like a swarm of bloated snakes dipping and rising in the water as they continued to race eastward at a speed that was greater than a horse could run. Laviathon, who swam in the midst of his brood, was so large that his passing sent turbulent waves lapping high up on the riverbank closest to him.

  Later, when the graying sky showed that the long night was relinquishing its hold on the warl, lights appeared up ahead that were far greater than those cast by the villages they passed as they sped across the vast plains. This had to be another city. Hoping Kaylan could be found there, Lylah sped up to get a better look at the place they were approaching. This brought her closer to Laviathon than she had ever been before, so close that the mountain of scales suddenly turned in the river with an enormous swish that sent the smaller crocodon scattering about him.

  "Who goes there?" Laviathons voice was a roar as his triangularly-shaped head continue to rise above the turbulent river. "I know you’re there. I can smell your magic."

  Luckily, the mists that rose above the river, drawn out by the cold morning air, hid Lylah from the large, slit-pupil eyes that searched for her. Moving to the far side of the river, she skirted past the crocodon swarm and continued eastward.

  After catching sight of the unruly patch of mist that moved in a way and in a direction that the rest of the vapors didn't, Laviathon shouted, "I see you!" Then he arched his neck like a water-bird does when it gets ready to spear a passing fish a moment before he lunged forward and vomited fire Lylah's way.

  Once Laviathon's frustration was spent, for very little of the incendiary reached its mark, he slithered toward the waterkynd at a pace a bystander would guess the monster was incapable of reaching. Though his long, paddle-shaped tail was tapered to a point, the bulbous body it was attached too seemed too massive for such graceful speed.

  Seeing her swift pursuer wind his way toward her, Lylah proved to be as swift as the crocodon. Unable to catch the fleeing mist did not force the sea serpent from continuing the chase. So he pressed on determined to overtake the prey he sensed was endowed with magic that Ab'Don would certainly be interested in.

  To Lylah's chagrin, Kaylan wasn't in the city they had been approaching, for his scent remained once they passed it.

  With Laviathon hard on her heels, Lylah was convinced the crocodon was herding her to the exact place she wanted to go, to the place where Kaylan was. Once there, she knew the evil crocodon would catch up with her since she would go no farther even to save herself.

  Tired of the annoying crocodon's presence, Lylah, picking up her pace, swept over the river's top at a velocity that made it hard for any on the river to notice her passing. So great was her speed that anyone who was lucky enough to set their eyes on her would lose sight of the swift patch of vapor the moment they blinked.

  Before the sun had reached its zenith, Lylah came upon another city that was inundated in the magical stench that surrounded Laviathon, so much so that she had to force herself to enter the repulsive atmosphere surrounding Ar Warl's capital. It was as she feared- the Sorcerer must be responsible for Kaylan's suffering.

  As expected, a tributary joined the Malamor River as she sped past the city's outskirts. Turning south, Lylah negotiated her way through the rolling tree-covered hills that had replaced the plains grassy expanse and up what she knew was the Voyd River at a pace that allowed her to safely probe for any magical traps that might be set in the effluent flow that took her to the Sorcerer's seat of power. With the scent of Kyaln's blood intensifying with each passing moment, the waterkynd knew she was closing in on the place where her mate was being held- the Hall of Voyd, Ab'Don's home and the fount from which his evil sorcery flowed.

  If Kaylan was here, as he surely must be, Lylah's quest had become exponentially more difficult. It would mean that she would have to contend with the Sorcerer to free Kaylan from his horrifying predicament. This was a challenge she didn't think her own deposit of magic was great enough to handle. Still, she would try though failure could bring an end to her existence that had begun before the mountains had time to lift their heads above the warl they stood in, or she herself was forced to join Kaylan in a prison of the Sorcerer's making. Lylah had no other recourse. The love she felt for the human had made the choice for her.

  A human! Lylah's wry laughter sounded like rain falling on a forest floor covered with dry leaves. Who would have guessed that? Not me, she thought. Not before I met Kaylan.

  How strange life has become, she sighed as she considered the dictates of her heart. The predictable cycle the waterkynds' lives followed as they moved from the Warl of Vapor, to the Warl of Water, to the Warl of Ice and then to a warl where all three waterkynd forms could be assumed, the same warl where humans dwelt, had been disrupted by a man of all things, a disruption she would have thought impossible in any of her former lives.

  How did I fall in love with a human? Lylah quizzed herself for the thousandth time. Then she remembered all the times she had spied on the human who loved to visit Mythoria, the home of the waterkynd. She remembered touching his mind with her own, a touch that delighted her so much that she began to be drawn to the source of her pleasure.

  Kaylan was unlike any human she had ever encountered. His esoteric heart had kept her attention longer than any other creature made of flesh and blood had been able to. Before Kaylan came, taking notice of the creatures of the warl had been a passing fancy like one might experience when seeing a lovely butterfly whose lifespan was so woefully short that any meaningful relationship with the insect would not be worth the time it took to establish it.

  To her surprise, Lylah found that Kaylan embodied the kind of mystery waterkynd were drawn to. He was far from being the mundane creature she found other humans to be. He was more. In some ways he was more than any waterkynd she had met. He was wonderful and tantilizingly interesting. And after being seduced by his exotic propensities, Lylah found that she liked him. In time like blossomed into love, a love that was bigger than all of the waterkynd warls combined. Now they were Together and the child that grew inside her had been conceived in their joining.

  ****

  Kaylan is still alive, Lylah's heart leapt with joy over the discovery. With the Hall of Voyd finally in sight, she could safely say that since the scent she had been tracking hadn’t changed.

  Night was returning to the warl as she approached the chaotic collection of buildings that comprised Ab'Don's sanctuary. With all
of the slender towers that rose above the island she approached and the cacophony of cables that joined them together, the Sorcerer's home looked more like a fungus stuck to the warl than a construct of man, a fungus that rose up into the sky with the wispy kind of fragility that accompanied a growing organism of that kind.

  He's in that place, she surmised before she moved farther up the river that was replete with mind-numbing sorcery. The magic she encountered had been growing in intensity for some time now. Where Laviathon carried the scent of foul defecation on him, this was the defecation's source. And Kaylan was buried beneath it.

  Fortunately for Lylah, much of the magic she possessed was foreign to the warl she now moved through. As such, it was not subject to the same rules. If it had been subject to these conventions, she wouldn't have been able to advance any further. Her progress would have been stopped long ago. As it was, she felt like she was a fish leaping up a waterfall as it struggled to reach its spawning grounds.

  Moving forward at a deliberate pace, Lylah approached the Hall of Voyd as the darkness of night continued to sweep across the sky. Methodically circumnavigating the island the hall sat on- an island found in the mouth of a steep, rocky gorge- Lylah studied the structures, looking for a way in. She had swam in this river in an earlier life, long before Ab'Don was born, back when Malam itself was not yet founded. Being a waterkynd, Lylah had, at one time or another, been to all the places where water could be found in the vast warl.

  Back when she had last come to this waterway it was called the M'Ernyn River by the clans that once populated the Thrall Mountains where the head waters were found. Much like the Malamor of today, they were a blond-headed people, large of stature, and renowned for bravery. At that time, she didn't have to travel far to get here, since a Pool of Transition was found in the mountain heights above the Hall of Voyd, a pool the waterkynd had quit using well before the Warl was split asunder and the Nyeg and Ar were formed, back when the Age of Star’s Blood had failed and the Fane J'Shrym had gone into hiding.