by J. W. Webb
“Here is where I leave you,” announced their guide. “I’ve just enough water to reach the nearest hole back east. After that I’ll go seek out Barakani.”
Yashan reached forward with his right hand. He yelped in pain and alarm. Blue light shot up his arm, “Fuck! I forgot about the fence!” The air shimmered and buzzed for a moment then all was still. Corin and Tamersane exchanged alarmed glances with Ulani.
What the…?
“Telcanna’s fence,” said the king, as though that explained everything.
“Beyond this invisible ward I will not go,” Yashan told them, shaking his arm which was numb from wrist to shoulder. He’d only brushed the invisible fence with a fingernail. “Make haste towards Orlot,” Yashan told them. “That’s a lone height some miles south of here.
“Once there you will be clear of the Copper Desert. The Crystal Mountains are no great distance. Easily visible from Orlot’s flat top. I would advise you climb that knoll, scan all ways before venturing on.”
Yashan held up a palm in parting.
“Go with care, my friends. I’ll pray to Star-Bright Telcanna we meet again soon!”
The five saluted Yashan farewell. Within moments their guide and his mount had vanished in the dunes.
Corin turned to Ulani. “Still want to accompany us, your Highness?”
“Certainly,” grinned the king. “I’ve been looking forward to this. Now then, we need to crouch very low else Telcanna’s fence grill us alive.”
But Zallerak was not going to get on his belly for anyone. He voiced some incoherent words and strode forward. There followed a flicker, fizz-pop and throbbing buzz. Sparks exploded around the bard’s head and his cloak caught fire. Unfazed, Zallerak yelled at them to follow whilst beating the flames from his cloak.
Needless to say the others took Ulani’s advice and crawled forward on their bellies. Corin, last up, felt a peculiar tingling sensation as he crossed beneath the invisible barrier, it made his head throb and nuts itch. All else was fine. Once through he heard a loud snap, and looking back saw a jagged line of sparks running from left to right. Judging by that, going back wasn’t an option.
Despite their worries that morning passed without event. The Copper Desert was flat and its surface hard, allowing better progress. The horses were happier too with solid ground beneath their hooves. But the riders had to monitor their speed, it was vital they didn’t push the steeds too hard in their anxiety to be across.
Even with caution they made fair progress leaving the dunes far behind them. As they rode, the five riders passed the water gourds around, sipping as sparingly as they could.
The Copper Desert spread out in all directions, the hard ground scorched to a dull rusty colour. Unimpressive in daylight, uniform and featureless—save for the odd standing stone glistening tall in the heat as they rode on by.
Corin glanced suspiciously at those wind-sculpted twisted rocks, recalling the statues that had sprung to life so horribly in Kranek castle. Whenever one loomed close he urged Thunderhoof past it in haste.
The day wore on monotonous; relentless heat bore down on them as the ground drummed beneath their horses’ hooves. All else silence, heat shimmer and dreary featureless terrain. Then at last far ahead beyond the heat’s shimmer, Corin spied an oval hill appearing to float suspended above the flat seething surface of the Copper Desert. That must be Orlot. They were nearly there!
Come on, Thunder—we’ve almost cracked it!
Optimism grew as the fiery sun passed high above their hooded heads. It couldn’t be much further. The ground was rockier here than it had been at first and wherever they looked they could see the weird stones, standing erect and stark like the forgotten army of some long dead warlord, all awaiting word of their master’s return.
Tamersane tried not to look at the stones, he disliked this flat desert even more than the dunes, and after his earlier vision no longer trusted his senses.
Bleyne lobbed Corin a half-drained gourd as he rode alongside. Corin took a sip before tossing it over to Ulani. The black-skinned warrior was still annoyingly cheerful, Corin couldn’t help noting. The king’s greying, curly hair had won free of his hood, but he seemed unaware of the ferocious heat. Up front Zallerak’s horse set the pace, gathering speed, sensing its rider knew they had nearly made it.
Now for the last push.
What’s that?
Corin noticed movement and a whooshing sound brushed past his left ear. He caught the flutter of wings as the raven settled dark on one of the tall stones. Oroonin’s bird watched him pass in silence, then shrieked skyward vanishing in the painful whiteness above. Corin felt the familiar dread take him.
His eyes drifted reluctantly to his right. There he saw two great rocks leaning into each as if whispering dark and dangerous secrets. Beneath the rocks stood a tall man, cloaked—his bony hands resting on a spear shaft. His face occluded by that wide brimmed hat and a raven preening its wings whilst perched easy on his left shoulder. Sunlight danced from the tip of his spear. Corin looked away. He knew that the Huntsman was warning him of peril ahead.
“Did you see him under those rocks?” There was fear in Tamersane’s voice. The young rider’s face was ashen pale despite his tan.
“Aye, I saw him,” growled Corin. Without any prompting from him Thunderhoof quickened his pace.
“Keep focussed!” Zallerak barked from up ahead. They rode on. Moments passing slow, the horses snorting as their hooves thudded weary into the dusty brown ground.
Tension hung like fusion in the air. How much farther? Minutes slipped into hours until at last the light paled toward blue and the cool wind of evening whipped the dust up around their horses’ flanks.
Corin gazed ahead at the distant hill. He couldn’t understand it. Orlot seemed no nearer than it had when he had first spied it hours ago. He screwed his eyes into tight squinty balls, straining to discern a cluster of strange shapes lying ahead of them in scattered heaps. Rocks? Hard to tell. There was something sinister about them. They looked wrong. The wind whipped suddenly sharp, wrenching the hood free of his head. Corin steeled his nerves as he felt the small hairs rise on the base of his neck.
“What are those things? Is that gold?” Tamersane had slowed his mount to get a closer look. The Kelwynian’s eyes had seen something glistening yellow in the fading light. He cursed in alarm when he recognised the vacant armour of some long dead warrior.
“Look, there are many!” cried Bleyne. The archer vaulted down from his saddle and approached a nearby shape. This corpse was in sorry shape with bones blackened and charred beneath the glinting armour. Bleyne reached down and grasped the helm but the metal crumbled at his touch and the charred corpse turned to fossilized crystal.
Zallerak reined in. He turned in his saddle, face furious.
“Bleyne, come away from there!” Zallerak snapped. “Ignore the phantom army, and don’t touch that crystal! Come on, all of you! We must cross before dark falls!” For once Corin agreed with him.
They rode on apace; Bleyne joined them as they guided their horses carefully amongst the dully gleaming mass of long dead warriors. Corin shuddered as he passed them, many were only charred bones but others were encased in multi-coloured crystal.
They were eerie and quite beautiful in their way, and Corin could only guess at the fate of the unfortunate souls lying cocooned within that glowing stone. He leaned low above one dead warrior. Was that movement? There were things, tiny black scaly insects crawling all over his face. Corin shuddered and urged Thunder on.
Tamersane let out a muffled cry, Corin reined Thunder in lest the beast crash into his friend’s horse.
“What is it now?”
“Over there—don’t you see him?”
To their right leaned another a great rock stained purple in the fading light. Sitting at its base, as though resting and not long dead, was the body of someone who had once been a massive warrior, dwarfing even Ulani. This corpse was clothed from head to toe in
burnished golden crystal; a great helmet hid the long dead features of who must surely have once been the Prince of the Golden Cloud. Horror entered Corin’s veins like creeping lead when he stared into those fossilized eyes. He goaded Thunderhoof to greater speed, trying vainly to quench the growing alarm threatening to take hold of him.
They left the army of crystal corpses behind. To the south, a sheer ridge of stone rose up barring their way like a forbidding seamless wall. Beyond that the rose pink heights of Orlot loomed closer at last. Telcanna’s fence could just be seen shimmering in the distance. They allowed their horses free rein, both steed and rider eager to be far from here. The dust trails danced beneath them and soon the crystallised warriors were left far behind. Ahead the ground slanted up abruptly, a steep incline revealing craggy heights on either side.
“Come on, we have to cross that fence!” Zallerak yelled.
Up that slope they rode, leaning forwards in their saddles. Nearly there! We’re nearly there!
Then from behind came a blinding flash of light and the earth thundered beneath them with the sound of heavy hooves.
Corin wheeled Thunderhoof around. His jaw dropped when he saw what had caused the dazzling light. A great belch of flame hid the creature’s form as it thundered enraged towards them, but Corin could tell it was huge. Beyond huge. A terrible roaring filled his ears and searing heat scorched his face like burning tar.
Zallerak yelled out again:
“Fly! Come on, we can still escape! Don’t lose heart this close to the fence!”
They heeded his words, spurring their steeds on like madmen. None dared look back, but the roars were looming closer, second by second, as the fiend gave chase. Beneath its bulk the ground quavered and the desert echoed with the hollow clamour of heavy cloven hooves. Ahead the wall of rock split suddenly in two as if cut by a giant knife. It swallowed the road. At once they were plunged into a dark ravine, with sheer crags leaning precariously down from lofty heights on either side. At the far end fizzled Telcanna’s fence—near and yet so far.
Time froze in fear and sweat. The scorching heat of the monster’s flame burnt their backs. Zallerak, grim-faced, kept yelling, urging them on with increasing desperation. Beneath them the horses needed no prompting—they galloped like the wind despite their fatigue, whinnying in terror at the ancient horror giving chase.
Silence.
The dreadful roaring had stopped and the sound of leaden hooves trailed off. Corin turned, glimpsed the monster’s glowing bulk turn aside and fade into the fast approaching dusk. He sighed—that was close. A flood of relief rushed through him as Thunderhoof threaded along the narrow ravine, beside him his companions breathed again. Tamersane even managed a pathetic joke, though no one else heard it. It seemed that miraculously they had escaped. Telcanna’s fence lay scarce a hundred yards ahead, shimmering like silver thread in the twilight.
The monster had lost interest or else was forbidden to go further. That was the only explanation. Corin glanced up at the steep sides of the ravine, the twisted rocks crouched over them in disapproval as they steered their tired horses through, their thudding hooves the only sound in the swiftly approaching dark. Long dead trees showed bare roots still clinging with brittle grey sticks to the vertical sides of the slopes. Now and then these ashen roots reached down, trapping their limbs and poking at their faces like dead men’s fingers.
Keep going—just a few minutes more.
The ochre pink flanks of Orlot loomed high and close. Then the ravine narrowed abruptly, funnelling into a sharp cleft, Telcanna’s fence shimmering and sparking horizontal between it—almost in arm’s reach. Scarce more than a slice through the rock, the narrowing crack forced them into single file again. But they were nearly through and could see that it opened into a wide space scarce yards away.
Last push!
A monstrous shadow blocked their path. Something impossibly huge bulked out of the darkness, blocking light and sparkle of fence ahead. Corin felt his heart sink like lead slingshot in a well. The guardian had played them for fools. They had been willing participants and now they would pay his price, trapped in this corner of his lair.
Straddled across the cleft bulked the monster like a steaming boulder, the cloven hooves pounding, shaking the steep sides of the ravine and causing rocks to cascade down in front of them.
The Ty-Tander. He had come at last. Just when they thought they had made it. They were trapped. Held fast like corks in bottles.
The brute raised its hideous head and bellowed in fury. A terrible din, the horses whinnied, even Thunder bucked and kicked and snorted. Somehow Corin held on. Tamersane’s hands covered his ears. Bleyne was struggling for an arrow—though what shaft could pierce that hide, he alone knew. Ulani remained calm, but Zallerak was yelling his head off. Corin at the rear struggled to calm Thunder whilst cursing every god in the Firmament.
Their tormentor was in no hurry. Those four flickering eyes glowed down on them like marsh gas, mocking them with alien sentience and age old cruelty. Daring them do something—anything to prolong their pathetic little lives.
The triple twisted horns thrust out from the monster’s thorny head like the curling poisoned blades of a Ptarni chariot wheel.
Slowly, indolently, the beast eased its bulk along the top of the cleft, sliding nearer to where they sat on their terrified horses. There was no room to turn the steeds about—they might as well have been encased in amber for all the manoeuvrability they had.
Corin, gaping up, saw that the Ty-Tander’s entire hide was covered in gleaming flanks of steel-like crystal scales, sweeping up, and rising to sharp spiky ridges on its back. A tail whipped behind with smaller spikes adorning it like a cluster of knives, the end ball like in shape and heavier than any mace. That tail was the width of a mature oak and over twenty feet long.
The shimmering scales flickered in the fading light. They shone golden yellow, before turning rose-pink then crimson, then back to gold. The creature thrust its triangular head down through the crack toward them and bellowed outrage at their intrusion.
The noise was deafening, the ground shook and the ravine shuddered, the horses kicked and whinnied. Each rider clung onto whatever he could, lest he be crushed to bloody pulp in the panicked melee of hoofs below.
Steamy tendrils vented from the monster’s two flaring nostrils, each one large enough to swallow a man whole. The ravine shook and trembled, spilling more boulders, blocking any possible retreat.
Then Tamersane’s horse reared and kicked in sudden violence, catching the rider off guard. The Kelwynian was pitched from his saddle. His head struck the ground with a thud. Wild-eyed, Ulani grabbed the horse’s bit and brought the beast back under control lest it kick its rider to death. Corin glared down at his prone friend. Tamersane did not stir, a dark stain oozed down the right side of his face. Corin reached back in his saddle. Face red with fury, he slid Clouter free and cut a triple loop in the air.
“Come on, then you acre of shite! Come play with a Longswordsman!”
Slowly, warily eyeing the monster watching him above, Corin dismounted and the other three followed suit, Bleyne sliding bow and arrows from his saddle in one fluid motion.
Corin’s defiance had all the monster’s attention. The beast wasn’t used to this kind of bravado and glared down with angry bafflement. Corin used the brief impasse to whack Thunder’s flank.
“Ride forward, old boy—the others will follow you. Crash through that fence and keep fucking going! Let warriors and warlock put paid to this bugger!”
Thunder showed his teeth, he didn’t like leaving his master but recognised the logic of his words. He stamped a forehoof, bolted through the narrow gap between monster and rock, the other horses following urgently behind. Telcanna’s fence fizzed and popped as they crashed on through. In moments they had vanished deep into the night.
And now it’s our turn.
Corin raised Clouter high, took a step forward.
Then came the fla
me.
Chapter 26
Shifting Patterns
Shallan watched the dazzling dance of lights. For hours they had lit the night sky to the south, casting weird shadows on the ocean’s restless surface. She watched in awe at Barin’s side as the heavens blazed forth in fiery streaks of red and gold. Behind her the crew of The Starlight Wanderer gaped white-faced as the vision lit up the sky.
“What is it?” Shallan enquired of the ship’s master. “I have never heard of such a thing before!”
Barin shook his head. He cast a wary eye up at the sails above as if expecting another storm. “I don’t know, milady,” he answered, tugging at his shaggy head and grunting. “A warning of changes perhaps.”
“Changes?”
Barin shrugged. “I don’t know—just a notion. It reminds me of the Giant’s Dance.”
“And what is that?”
“They used to say it’s caused by the ice giants from north of my country throwing lightning spears at each other. But I know it for natural phenomena—something to do with the climate up there. The Dance is often seen in the far north beyond my island.
“Yet this feels different, I sense real anger in those colours. It’s a warning. Maybe the southern gods fight amongst each other. They are rumoured a quarrelsome lot.”
“Or maybe it’s just weird weather,” Shallan said. She thought of Corin and the others far away in the southlands. She wondered whether they were watching the dazzling display of light in the sky.
“Weird weather? I hope that’s all. And not some nonsense that Zallerak cooked up.” Barin smiled at her. “You had better check on your father, girl,” he urged her. “If his condition worsens we will have to alter our course and seek shelter.”
“He won’t allow that.”
“He won’t have a choice.” Shallan nodded and went below.
