by A. Giannetti
In the cavern behind Elerian several of the Goblins had been killed outright by the two explosions. Deafened and scorched, those who survived fled in terror down a second tunnel on the far side of the chamber. When Elerian finally sat up, ears ringing from the explosions, coughing and choking on the mixture of smoke and ash that now filled the air, he saw that the cavern was empty. His eyes stinging and watering, he made himself visible again before cutting Ascilius free of his bonds.
“We must get out of here,” he said to Ascilius, his voice sounding oddly faint to his still deafened ears. “The Goblins might decide to return at any moment.”
“I am not leaving without my clothes and my weapons,” insisted Ascilius.
He lit a mage light, which took a position a foot above his head, a cheerful yellow ball several inches in diameter. Stumping angrily back out into the cavern, coughing heavily and cursing each time he set his bare foot on some hot coal, Ascilius began searching for his things, the mage light maintaining its position above his head.
Keeping a wary eye on the exit to the cavern in case the Wood Goblins returned, Elerian helped him. Soon, they found his clothes as well as his ax and knife. Elerian stood guard while Ascilius dressed himself in his still smoldering clothes. When Ascilius pulled on his pants, Elerian saw that there was a hole the size of the Dwarf’s broad right hand burned through the seat. He could not resist commenting on it.
“You should leave them just like that,” he said to Ascilius. “They display your scar from the mutare really well.”
Ascilius first looked angry and then sighed. “I do not know if I was worse off in the hands of the Goblins or now in your company. First, you almost blow me up and now you try to provoke me with your odd humor. You are enough to try any Dwarf’s patience.”
“I can fetch the Goblins back if you like,” said Elerian obligingly.
“They would not come,” said Ascilius scathingly. “They know they are well rid of your company and are doubtlessly still running like the wind.”
Turning away from Elerian, Ascilius began exploring the cavern, seemingly oblivious to the fact that the Mordi might return at any moment.
“If you are captured a second time, I will leave you here,” Elerian threatened the Dwarf, but Ascilius stubbornly refused to end his search. In the back of his mind was the thought that the Goblins might have left some sort of plunder behind.
Shaking his head, Elerian finally decided the quickest way to leave was to help Ascilius search the cavern. His decision proved fortunate. Although they found no treasure, they did find a store of food packed into large barrels in a smaller side chamber as well as small kegs of spirits.
“Much of this is food for men,” said Ascilius as he rummaged through the pile while Elerian nervously watched the entrances to the cavern. “I think those rascals you routed may be outlaws or deserters from the armies of Torquatus. They must be using this cave for a hiding place while they raid the supply trains traveling to Calenus.”
“They did appear to be a rather shabby group, nothing like the other Wood Goblins we have encountered up to now,” observed Elerian. “Even if there is no danger of them reporting our presence to anyone, however, we should still get as far from here as we can before they return.”
“First we must take some of these supplies,” insisted Ascilius.
Remembering the Goblins’ penchant for eating human flesh, he and Elerian passed over the salted meat that they discovered. Instead, they quickly gathered up handfuls of hard black bread, cheeses, and dried fruit, stuffing them into a large cloth sack that Ascilius found until it was filled to the bursting point. Ascilius cast a longing glance at the small kegs of ale stacked against a wall of the storeroom, but Elerian dragged him away.
“I can make ale,” he said. “We need to leave here now,” he insisted.
Reluctantly, for it seemed a great waste to leave the spirits behind, Ascilius, with Elerian following along close behind him, began to retrace his steps toward the small cave where their adventure had first begun.
“What happened after you fell through the door in the wall?” asked Elerian as they followed the tunnel back to the entrance.
“There were two Goblins standing behind the door,” replied Ascilius. “Before I could make a move, they clubbed me senseless. When I woke up, I found out I was to be the main course of their evening meal. It is fortunate you arrived when you did.”
“I almost did not make it,” said Elerian. “First, I had a difficult time getting around your fire. Then, I had to break down the door, after which the guard the Goblins left behind nearly took out my right eye when I tried to question him. I only just managed to heal myself and reach the cavern in time.”
“Never get within arm’s length of a Goblin if you can help it,” advised Ascilius as he glanced at the half healed wounds on Elerian’s face.
Before long, they arrived back at the cave. Ascilius wasted no time in extinguishing his fire, which was restlessly spreading and contracting like a live thing, as if seeking something to burn. They transferred a good portion of the food into their packs before setting out at once into the night. Before long, the sky clouded up, and it began to rain again.
“At least the rain will wash out our tracks and scent,” said Elerian in an attempt to be cheerful, but with a cold breeze whistling through the hole in the seat of his pants, Ascilius was inclined to be grumpy again and made no reply.
They trudged on through the rain all that night and into the next day, stopping only twice to eat a few mouthfuls of cold food. The dry warmth of the cave from the previous night seemed only a memory to Elerian when they stopped for the night under the inadequate shelter provided by an ancient chestnut tree. The broad, splayed leaves kept some of the rain off, but cold rivulets of water still coursed over their skin beneath their cloaks, which had turned wet and clammy again.
Despite the miserable conditions, Ascilius fell into a fitful, exhausted sleep, but Elerian sat with his back propped up against the rough bark of the tree, too uncomfortable even to walk the dream paths. On a whim, he opened his third eye and looked upon a world suddenly transformed. The tress had become columns of pale green light, their outlines continually shifting and changing. Each drop of rain was a silver point of light falling in sheets to the ground. In the distance, a faint golden glimmer shone at random intervals through the silvery curtain of rain. Elerian rubbed his eyes, but he still saw the light.
“Is it a spell or a shade?” wondered Elerian to himself, his curiosity aroused.
Leaving his pack and bow next to the sleeping form of Ascilius, he set off through the trees toward the source of the light.
THE HIDDEN PLACE
Walking stealthily through the silver rain, Elerian drew steadily closer to the golden light until he stood before an enormous oak tree that dwarfed the other trees around it. Great, twisted roots fanned out from its base in all directions, and in the side of its trunk was a large, shimmering patch of golden light, roughly circular in shape with an outline that shifted restlessly.
“There is a spell embedded in the side of this tree,” thought Elerian excitedly to himself. “I wonder if it could be a door,” he speculated as he recalled the magical door to Drusus lair in the Abercius.
Closing his magical eye, Elerian examined the tree with his normal vision, hampered only a little by the rain and the lack of starlight, but there was no sign of anything unusual in the deeply fissured bark of the forest giant, which was easily sixteen feet in diameter.
Knowing that some latent spells could be activated with a simple touch of the hand, Elerian opened his third eye again to locate the enchanted portion of the tree’s trunk. He touched it firmly with the fingertips of his right hand, but he was not at all surprised when nothing happened.
“It makes perfect sense that a door in this wild place would have a lock on it,” he thought to himself.
Elerian cast an opening spell, watching with his third eye as a small golden orb flew from the
fingertips of his right hand to strike the golden area in the trunk of the tree. The center of the patch went dark, then expanded, taking the shape of a tall, arched opening outlined with a thin line of shimmering gold. Elerian closed his third eye and saw a doorway before him similar to the one that had led into Drusus’ lair when he had pursued the changeling into the Abercius.
Beyond the doorway was a small hall of dark, polished wood with a stairway at the end. Instead of leading into the ground as Elerian had expected, however, the stairway spiraled upward through an opening about three feet wide and seven feet tall.
Elerian was strongly tempted to follow the stairway to see where it led, but the thought of Ascilius sleeping unprotected by himself in the forest was enough to make him turn away from the doorway and the intriguing stairs beyond it. As soon as he turned his back on the tree, Elerian heard the door close behind him with an audible thump. When he turned and looked back, there was no sign of the door.
Speculating on what he might have found, Elerian returned to where he had left Ascilius. The Dwarf was still curled up in the same place, sleeping between two raised roots. His cloak was pulled up over his head, and he seemed oblivious to the cold and the rain. Experimentally, Elerian prodded the sodden heap of fur before him with his right foot.
“Wake up Ascilius,” said Elerian softly.
A muffled groan issued from the cloak. “Is it morning already?” asked the Dwarf in a sleepy voice.
“No, it is still hours until dawn,” said Elerian. “I have something I want you to look at.”
Ascilius stirred and groaned again, pulling the cloak away from his face and exposing dark, sleep filled eyes. There were bags like small, dark pouches beneath his eyes, brought on by several sleepless nights in a row.
“This is not some prank of yours is it?” Ascilius asked suspiciously as he stiffly climbed to his feet. He looked thoroughly miserable, and to make matters worse, the rain now grew heavier, enclosing them in a cold, gray curtain.
“No, this is no prank,” said Elerian with a smile. “This rain has washed all the humor out of me.”
“Lead on then,” said Ascilius taking up his pack. “I am too wet and cold to fall asleep again now that you have awakened me.”
Pulling the hood of his cloak over his head, Ascilius followed after Elerian. They soon reached the great oak with the magical door. Ascilius looked at the tree and sighed tiredly.
“Elerian, this is a truly enormous tree, but it is not worth getting up in the middle of the night just to have a look at it. I told you before; I am not much interested in trees.”
“You will feel differently in a moment,” said Elerian with a smile.
He cast his opening spell again and was pleased to see the surprised look on Ascilius’s face as the doorway appeared in the side of the tree. Elerian stepped through the doorway and into the hall beyond it before lighting a small mage light that took a position a foot or so above his head, casting a dim yellow light over his wet hair and face. It maintained its position when he eagerly began to ascend the polished stairs. Ascilius followed more slowly, starting slightly when the door snapped closed behind him with a muffled thud.
Step by step, the stairway brought them at least thirty feet into the air, winding in a tight spiral inside the trunk of the tree. They came at last to a small landing with an open doorway on its left side. The stair continued on, but Elerian ignored it. Stepping cautiously through the doorway, he found himself in a circular room at least thirty feet across.
Elerian blinked several times, certain that his eyes were deceiving him, but the size of the room remained the same. The floors, walls, and domed ceiling were all highly polished wood. Round, transparent circles were set at intervals around the room. They resembled windows, but when Elerian had stood outside looking at the tree, he remembered seeing only an unbroken expanse of wet gray bark. Behind him, in the center of the room, rose a polished wooden column at least ten feet across, which housed the stairs.
“Ascilius,” asked Elerian in a puzzled voice, “how big is this room?”
“It is at least thirty feet across,” said Ascilius calmly.
“How do you get a thirty foot room inside a sixteen foot tree?” asked Elerian as he walked out into the chamber.
“You are a mage and yet you do not recognize magic when you see it,” said Ascilius in an amused voice.
“Of course, I know it is magic,” said Elerian in an annoyed voice. “I meant what kind of spell can produce such an effect.”
He looked through one of the windows and saw gray rain sheeting outside.
“The spell must be similar to the one which opened a window in door of the cave we just left,” he thought to himself as he touched the smooth surface of the window with his long right hand.
“How did all this come to be here?” wondered Elerian aloud. “Surely this is not the work of Goblins.”
“Neither Goblins, nor Dwarves,” said Ascilius, walking curiously around the room. “This is a dwelling of the gray Elves. It has been deserted for a long time I think.”
Elerian, too, had the sense that the owners had left long ago. Even though every surface in the room gleamed as if newly polished, there was a sense that it had long been empty.
Ascilius stopped before an ornate stone fireplace set in the outside wall of the room.
“This, at least, will prove useful,” said Ascilius as he lit one of his red, magical fires in the hearth.
While Ascilius busied himself drying his things, Elerian set out to explore. He followed the stairway in the central pillar higher, discovering several other rooms above the first. One small room with a wooden tub in the floor and a wooden fixture on the wall shaped like a fish, was obviously a washroom, for clear water gushed out of the fixture at the touch of Elerian’s hand, draining away through a recess in the bottom of the tub. The other rooms appeared to be sleeping chambers or storerooms. All of them were empty.
The original owners seemed to have left nothing behind, but Elerian had a persistent sense that the tree had not given up all its secrets. He tapped on walls looking for other secret entrances and used his mage sight to probe the walls without any luck at all.
The last and highest room Elerian came to had another magical door set in the outside wall. When he opened it, he saw an enormous branch wide enough for two people to walk abreast before him. To his right and left were other branches. Overhead was the green canopy of the tree. Elerian stood in the doorway for a time, imagining the branches around him illuminated with gold, silver, and green lights, slender figures strolling across them, and the sound of clear voices and laughter carrying through the night. With a sigh of regret, he finally turned away and returned to the main room of the dwelling.
A toothsome smell filled the room, for Ascilius was toasting bits of pork, bread, and cheese over the fire. Reminded of how hungry he was, Elerian returned to the fountain he had discovered and filled their tankards with clear water, which he transformed into strong, pale ale. When Elerian returned to the fireplace, he and Ascilius sat on the wide hearth eating and drinking, the heat of the mage fire soaking through them. Outside the cozy room, rain continued to beat against the magical windows, streaking them with rivulets of water.
“I would give a great deal to be able to learn the magic which built this place,” said Elerian to Ascilius, as he ran his right hand over the smooth hearthstone. There was no seam between the stone and the wood of the floor and wall, as if it was all of one piece.
“Such knowledge is no longer to be found in the Middle Realm,” said Ascilius. “It went west with the Elves over the sea when they fled from Torquatus and his Goblins. Speaking as a Dwarf, I consider it no great loss. Treetops were meant for birds and squirrels. The only sensible place to live is underground.”
“Better here than out in the rain,” observed Elerian dryly.
Ascilius had no good reply for that. When his hunger was satisfied, he busied himself with patching his trousers with pieces of
spare leather. His joining spell seamlessly blended the leather pieces together so that there was no trace of the holes burned into them in the Goblin cave.
Finishing his drink, Ascilius then extinguished his magical fire and curled up in front of the hearth in his warm wolf skin cloak. He fell instantly asleep. Elerian also wrapped himself in his cloak, but he did not close his eyes.
Now that he was comfortable again, thoughts of the maid that he had seen in his orb returned to trouble his mind. After a quick look to make sure that Ascilius was really sleeping, Elerian called his crystal sphere to his right hand, staring intently into its silvery surface for a long time. Tonight, however, for all the effort of his will, it showed him nothing. Disappointed, he finally sent the orb away. For the rest of the night, he walked the paths of his memories, while his body rested.
Before dawn, the rain stopped, and the first rays of the sun shone brightly through the magical windows on the eastern side of the room. Elerian sprang lightly to his feet, as refreshed as if he had slept soundly all night.
“Wake up, Ascilius,” he said cheerfully. “The sun is already over the horizon.”
Reluctantly, Ascilius crawled out of his warm bed and prepared breakfast over another of his magical fires. After a meal of toasted pork, bread, cheese, and fruit, Elerian would have happily spent the rest of the day exploring the old Elf home, but Ascilius was impatient to begin their journey again, for they were now drawing close to Calenus.
Wrapped in his cloak to ward off the early morning chill, Ascilius stumped down the stairs, followed by a reluctant Elerian. When the magical door thumped closed behind them, only Elerian looked back.
