“Ynob,” Snow said from an adjacent chair. “They are friends.”
The wizard looked like he had a retort but thought better of it and sat back in his chair.
“So, you come to me from the council, Mr.…?”
“Um…Gantha. Yes.” Nerves set in, making Gantha trip over his words. The wizard waited for Gantha to continue, but he said no more.
“Please, tell me your business.” There was hardness to the words with a hint of sarcasm lurking in the background.
Gantha glanced at Lourak and then at Ra’na. Both stared at him. “The Spoken One…uh…has spoken.” His mind blanked on the word prophecy. And as the words were out, he wished he could call them back. Here he was the council member to bring forth the prophecy to the human wizard, and he was sounding like an idiot.
Ynob paused, fingers still in a prayer formation at his lips. “I see. Well, good for him or her. I’ve kinda lost track of the gender.”
Gantha corrected him. “It is a him. A boy.” Again the words were out. He didn’t think it sounded stupid, but then again he had screwed up once, why not twice?
Silence passed among those present. Ynob stared at him with his piercing eyes. Gantha felt intimidated, goaded. But then he realized what he should be saying.
“Oh…oh. The prophecy went like this:
In the mist I see fire, flames of never foretold. They spread as quick as sickness, and devour all. At the center, a human princess, a queen become. Three but one, meshed in crystal and core. Devastation and war on the horizon, led by a darker evil, than purest gold. Warlock of races, and sister of dawn.
Salvation but a ring, lost upon the shores.
Upon finishing, Gantha watched the wizard’s face pale. Fear crept into his eyes. Quickly the elf looked toward Snow to see if she could clarify his reaction, but she seemed similarly duped by the message.
“Um…Mr. Ynob?” Gantha prodded after a long delay. Ra’na and Lourak showed looks of concern as well.
Ynob sighed and took a deep breath to compose himself. “And that was what the Spoken One had to say?” His voice held a tremble in it. Gantha was afraid to continue on.
“Um…at first. There was another prophecy the day after I left.”
“A second?” The wizard sat upright, coming out of his seat a little.
“Yes…” It was a weak word to such a powerful man.
There comes a blackness of fetid rain led by two.
One is of three and the other is one of those three.
Mighty is the ring that holds the spirit.
Mighty in that it brings war and perhaps salvation.
In three cycles of the moon, doom shall reign.
On the first, birth. On the second, resurrection. On the third, death.
Gantha waited for a reaction but got none. The wizard merely froze and then sunk back in his chair, a hand coming over his forehead. Snow didn’t seem to react to this as much. All leaned in waiting for the wizard’s response.
None came for a moment. Suddenly, he stood. “When is the moon full?” He pulled the elf to his feet by his collar. Gantha, too shocked by the assault, was not fast enough, so Ynob repeated it to Ra’na. “When is the moon full?” He looked as if he was about to pull the Opi’Chi elf to her feet the same way, but backed off. She stood.
“Tonight is the moon phase.”
Ynob’s facial features stopped. All movement within the wizard quit. He stood frozen for a whole minute. Snow came forward to check on him.
Gantha took a step in the magic man’s direction, thinking something was terribly wrong. Was the coma setting back on?
“Ynob…Ynob…are you okay?” Snow placed her hand on his arm and gave it a little shake. At first he didn’t think the wizard was going to respond, but his lips moved as if speaking. Then finally, words came out.
“We are all doomed.”
***
Shade made his way home, irritated about his traps. He had only caught one small quail and, of course, the kobold, but nothing else substantial. He wouldn’t starve. He was good at planning ahead. But not getting any coin today in his traps left him in a foul mood.
Memories of the days when every trap would have a traveler with deep pockets brought a smile to his scarred face. Some he would kill, some he would maim, and some—like the kobold—he would leave swinging for the wolves. It had been a good racket for years now, but it was starting to dry up.
A horse snorted nearby. Shade looked up and stopped walking. On the side of his house were two horses. Someone had come to visit him. He scanned the area for other signs that might help clue him in to who waited for him. Nothing.
Shade so wanted to creep around to the horses, but his paranoid thoughts believed it would be a trap. Like a rusty timepiece, he tried to solve the problem but came up stuck. Eventually he decided to go in the front door and face the intruder.
The door squeaked open; candles already lit the inside. Shade poked his head around it, expecting an ambush, but there was no one. He quietly brought himself in and closed the door. Someone was here, but not in this room. He took a step in.
Suddenly, the intruder came from behind, placed one hand on his head and a blade at his throat. The sultry voice whispered in his ear, “Hello, Shade.”
Adrenaline and instincts started to take over until his mind halted all movement. He recognized the voice. “Katrena?”
The blade drew away, and Shade turned to find the dark elf smiling wildly at him. They embraced.
“You always did forget to watch your back,” Katrena said as she sheathed her short blade.
“That’s because you were always watching it for me.” Shade looked her up and down. “You haven’t changed one bit.”
Katrena gave him a once-over. “I see you have though. Don’t you ever wash your clothes?” It followed another playful laugh.
“If you two are done….”
Shade turned quickly, his hand drawing his knife. He wasn’t going to be caught unaware twice. Another Opi’Chi elf stood in the doorway. Deep in his mind, sarcasm piped up. Two elf women under my roof…that’s a first.
He felt Katrena’s hand on his arm, a gentle pat. “Shade, let me introduce you to Da’Lynn.” No one moved.
“Why are you bringing council members to me?” Shade muttered out of the side of his mouth.
“Because, I am looking for Kerlick,” Da’Lynn said from the doorway. She crossed her arms.
“Fat chance of that. You both better leave.” Shade felt uneasy about all of this.
Katrena reached out and grabbed his arm. He tried to pull away, but her grip was strong. “She has plans for a rebellion, an overthrow of the council.”
Locking eyes with her, Shade tried to see if she was truthful or if this was a trap. “And why should I trust that?”
Turning, she addressed Da’Lynn. “Mother, meet Shade.”
Shade’s mouth fell open. It took only a moment for the news to sink in. Shade restored his stern look.
“Like I told you, I can’t help you find Kerlick. If you’re council, why not talk to his father, Barth?” Shade moved past the women and into the kitchen. He threw his satchel on the table. Slapping the quail on a counter top, he grabbed a clean knife.
Da’Lynn made a brief laughing sound. “Barth is a fool. He has been an idiot since his wife died. That’s what started the trouble in the first place.” The two women sat at the table. Katrena opened the satchel and rooted through it.
“I don’t know what to tell you, lady. Do you think if I was still riding with Kerlick that I’d be living this richly? Or eating so fine?” Shade turned, holding the headless quail by its feet. Blood dripped on the floor, making a mess, but he got the reaction from the councilwoman he was looking for. As he rotated, he noticed Katrena had pulled out the fragment.
“Never change, do you, Katrena? Always going through anything not yours. I never could keep treasure from you,” Shade said. Katrena peered down at the bit of precious glass.
“Where…where did you get this?” Katrena looked up at Shade. He was still holding the quail over the floor.
“Just some kobold. It didn’t have that color when I got it.”
The three looked down, and sure enough, the fragment held a simple blue shine. Katrena ran her finger over its surface. “I think this is Midnight Core, but I’ve never seen this much of it.”
Shade finally noticed the quail making a mess. As he swung it toward the counter, blood drops flew on the table. A few hit the fragment.
“Uggg, watch where you’re—” But Katrena’s words cut off. Shade turned around in time to see the blood disappear from the surface of the blue glass. The glow intensified.
“Katrena.” Da’Lynn reached for the piece and carefully took it.
“What…?” But Slade couldn’t put the question into words. The soft tone intrigued him.
“Legends say that untold power can be had with crystal and core…” Da’Lynn muttered as her hands carefully caressed the piece.
Katrena watched her mother, but her eyes drifted more to the glow, which seemed to pulse now. “But why crystal and not gold or silver?”
“I’d prefer gold,” Shade added.
It looked like the councilwoman was not going to answer them, but finally she spoke. “They are metals and will conduct the power. Crystal contains....”
Blankness washed over the older Opi’Chi’s face, her eyes only focusing on the fragment.
“Um, lady?” Shade took a step closer, concerned she had stopped talking.
And then both watched Da’Lynn remove a necklace. The pendant was a crystal. It was an elongated pyramid shape. She set the fragment on the table and started to chant.
“Um…what are you doing?” Katrena asked, alarm evident in her voice. Trepidation rose in Shade. Da’Lynn did not answer, but her rhythmic song increased. The light in the fragment glowed to a hypnotizing pulse. Their alarm soothed, and their agitation turned to bliss.
As the spell reached its peak, Da’Lynn stabbed downward with her crystal. A blast of light overcame the room. Before he fell to the floor, Shade couldn’t remember the last time he felt so peaceful.
Chapter Eighteen
Taylon had to rest his tired legs. Zediah dragged them all over the place, inside and out, showing them all sorts of quirky things. On their visit to the second floor, he did let them peek in on Euphoria. She slept soundly in what looked like a canoe fitted with sheets. At first, it appeared painted clovers decorated the walls. On closer inspection, Taylon saw it was actual clovers that someone had picked, then stuck to the wall. Somehow, the magic of the room kept them from appearing dead.
“Guess what this room is called.” Zediah possessed a drive to have guests guess his title for various things. Most of which were rather obvious. Taylon quickly tired of the game.
“The…green room?”
“Bravo, how did you ever guess? Praise!”
Finally, the tour returned to the starting point. Taylon fell back on a nice couch that, he was later told, had been made out of goat hide and daisies. The captain really didn’t care; he wanted off his feet. Hazel sat down next to him. Zediah ran off for a minute.
“Ugg…I don’t think I want to stand again.”
“Zediah doesn’t get many visitors, so he likes to show off when he gets them,” Hazel commented, but he noticed she too was rubbing her feet.
“So when do we talk to him about Euphoria and the box?”
“Soon.” Hazel stood as Zediah came back in the room with a tray of treats, most looking like cheese and crackers. Hazel helped him with the snack and all sat down again.
The old man’s eyes stared a moment at the morsels as if thinking. He then turned toward Taylon with the same piercing gaze.
“You come to me with questions?” His tone held a somber air.
“Euphoria is….” But how to begin? Taylon couldn’t find the right words.
“Troubled. Yes, when I met her on the road, she appeared to be not herself.” Zediah reached up and took off the hat. He set it next to him. It did not lose its pointed shape.
“While on the road, an elf attacked us. A dark creature intent on doing us harm.”
“Hmm, an Opi’Chi.”
“What?”
“Never mind. Please go on.” Zediah did a circle motion with one hand toward Taylon. The captain was unnerved by the action but continued.
“The elf used something called a spirit box?” Taylon looked to Hazel to see if he was saying it right. Hazel nodded.
“I see. Not many around anymore. Go on.” The same motion repeated. Again the soldier was a bit more agitated. So far no advice or help, only annoying gestures and fool talk.
“She was okay after the attack. Maybe a headache. Hazel checked her out when we—” But he was abruptly cut off by Zediah.
“Do you have the box? I need to see the box. Get me the box.” Zediah’s hands shook as he spoke, and his voice cracked on the word me. Taylon sat a moment, disturbed, but Hazel nudged him into action.
As he brought his satchel inside, Hazel was standing up looking for him. “Quickly, the box!” Taylon dug it out and handed it off to the old woman. Zediah was physically trembling, his hands outstretched. As soon as his fingers touched the box, the shakes stopped. Taylon still looked alarmed, but Hazel came to him and laid a hand on his arm.
“I think he is trying to stay focused. ‘Fighting the crazies’ as my mother would say. A magical item usually helps them regain control,” Hazel whispered. Taylon looked at the old man, whose fingers caressed the mahogany box’s every groove and carving.
He closed his eyes, trying to make sense of it all. So much was beyond him. He needed to trust that Zediah would be able to help Euphoria. Slowly, Taylon opened his eyes to face the reality of the situation.
“Zediah,” Hazel stated as she shook the man. He came out of his trance.
“This…is very old. Ancient. And evil.”
“How do you know?” Taylon was quick with the question. The box really didn’t appear to be old, and there were really no markings that would signify evil on the outside.
Zediah ignored his question and asked a question of his own. “Was the owner killed?”
“What…um…no?” It took him by surprise. What was this old man getting at?
“Only by the hand of the rightful owner can the box be opened. It passes from owner to owner only by death or great magic.” Zediah dropped his head as his fingers explored the box more.
“Um…I did cut off her hand,” Taylon remembered, although it sounded silly. “And anyway, why would we want to open it? There’s something bad in it, right?”
The old man looked up. His eyes were glassy, yet he stared right at the captain. It took Zediah a moment to speak, and when he did, it was as though Taylon had never asked a question.
“A hand…a hand…. That might work…. Give me the hand!” The old man’s own arm shot out quickly. Taylon jumped back and began to go for his sword. After the moment passed, he dug in his bag and produced the dark-skinned, severed appendage. Zediah snatched it up greedily.
“It could work…. Yes!” He stood, box under an arm and the disembodied hand held above his head. “Meet me in the stone circle in an hour. Bring the woman. We shall heal her tonight. Praise! Glo…” He quickly clamped his mouth shut, preventing the last word from coming out. Zediah exited the room and was gone.
Taylon looked at Hazel, confused, bewildered, and a bit put off. Hazel appeared shocked but turned to face the captain. “He is our best hope.”
“Well then, may all turn out well. Praise! And Glory!” Taylon muttered a bit uneasily.
***
He should have seen it coming all along. Arg! Fret wished he could kick himself, but the cell he was in was very small. His voice was hoarse from a lot of yelling and threatening. His head hurt from whatever smashed him, knocking him out, and his limbs were beginning to cramp from being in this small birdcage.
The instant he had seen
Van’s home, something should have sent up warning flags in his mind. Fret did recall saying something stupid like, “Wow, Van, for such a small guy, you live in a really big place.” Plain stupid.
Night had fallen outside, and it was dusk as they came upon the cave entrance. Howls were calling at the moon, which was full and pale in color. Fret remembered looking up, thinking it appeared as though it were made of bone.
Van said little on the journey, except grumbling at Fret to hurry. For a little man, Van was quite fast. Fret thought he had lost the gnome a few times. But the agile fellow was always up ahead. When the cave came into view—and after Fret’s idiotic comment—they made their way to the opening, the path lit by torches. Before going in, Van laid a line of something white across the path they had traveled. Fret turned, intrigued, and was about to ask when he was knocked out.
When he came to, he found himself stuffed into a small, three-foot, cramped space. It was very sturdy. Fret had tried to break it and only ended up bruising himself. His cage was set on a ledge in a room in the cavern. From the flickering torch, he could make out other cells here too, but he couldn’t tell if they held occupants. After yelling for his freedom, Fret tried calling out—hoping to connect with someone, anyone. He heard nothing.
It had been an hour since he awakened when someone finally spoke up. “They leave you like this the first night.” The sound came from the darkness to his left. Were there more captive creatures over there too? How big was this prison?
“Who…?”
“That gnome or the tree lady. Might be more, but those have been the only two I’ve ever seen.” The voice was low, without expression. It was also hard to determine the gender by the voice. Fret guessed maybe female.
“Who...?”
“Neither of those two took you?” Surprise entered the tone. A male voice…definitely…maybe male.
“No. Who are you?” Fret said it quickly since the other prisoner kept interrupting.
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