by Dean Cadman
“I see,” Lusam replied, “but what about the faeries, can’t they simply go around the rocky ridge and find us again on the other side? Or maybe climb directly over the ridge. They seemed very agile, to say the least.”
“They would not dare climb the ridge above tree level, and it would take them many hours to go around the long ridge. No, once we are sealed inside The Serpent’s Mouth, they will give up on their hunt—of this, I am certain.”
“Alright, then I guess we’re ready to do this. Take hold of the pole with your hands and feet, so that when I sever the ropes you don’t drop to the ground. I think it would be best if you remain where you are until after the faeries are aware of my escape. I’ll try to draw their attention as quickly as I can. If they think you are still poisoned and bound, they shouldn’t be paying you much attention when you finally make your escape. I’ll meet you in the treeline to the north, but remember to stay close to me once I arrive.”
Vultog nodded. “Good luck, and may The Keeper watch over you.”
Lusam nodded back. “You too, Vultog.”
And with a single thought, their rope bonds fell away to the ground below.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Lusam let his legs fall to the ground, but was forced to use the pole to help himself stand amongst the branches and twigs of the unlit fire below. His arms and legs were sore and stiff with being in the same position for so long. He stretched out his back, then began walking casually towards the large hut where Vultog had said his knife had been taken.
Lusam had only taken a few footsteps before the first alarm calls were raised. A horn was sounded and dozens of tiny blue creatures appeared from the doorways of huts and in the branches of nearby trees. He had already created a weak magical shield around himself and it was a good job too, as dozens of tiny poisoned darts now bounced harmlessly of its surface. He broke into a slow jog and began zigzagging from side to side towards the hut. Not to avoid any of the tiny darts, but to make it appear that he was at least concerned about their attacks and hopefully keep their attention on him, rather than on Vultog as he made his own escape.
The cries of alarm intensified as the faeries realised where Lusam was heading. The two tiny blue guards at the hut’s entrance fell to one knee and began peppering his shield with darts of their own. He could see their puzzled expressions when they noticed their darts bouncing harmlessly off his invisible shield. They continued firing until Lusam was almost on top of them, then deftly somersaulted to the sides out of his way. A fresh wave of cries and commands filled the air outside as Lusam entered the large hut.
The hut was dark inside and it took his eyes a moment to adjust from the strong sunlight outside. But once they did, it soon became apparent what the hut’s purpose was, and why it was so well guarded: it was a trophy room. The hut was circular in shape with no windows and only one entrance. The rear of it was lined with dozens of shelves, and on those shelves were all manner of strange items.
Lusam started scanning the shelves from the bottom up for Vultog’s knife, but gasped when he saw something else that he recognised; his mother’s amulet. He hadn’t even realised it had gone, and berated himself for almost leaving it behind. He snatched it from the shelf and placed it around his neck for safekeeping, before continuing to look for the knife. It soon became apparent how lucky he had been to notice his amulet amongst the hordes of other items piled high on the shelves, and he began to wonder if he would ever find Vultog’s knife at all. Then he suddenly remembered the magic that it contained. Seamlessly, he slipped into his mage-sight and the knife’s location became immediately apparent.
Three strides and he reached the shelf it was on. It was buried deep under a pile of other objects, and only part of its magical glow was visible. He plunged his hand in and dragged it out from under the pile, sending various other items crashing to the ground with a loud clatter. He stood looking at the object in his hand—but it wasn’t Vultog’s knife. It was a round metallic object, possibly silver, and in its centre, there was a red stone almost identical to the one he had seen in Vultog’s knife. He had no idea what it was, but it looked like it could have been part of a larger ceremonial necklace at one time or another. ‘Maybe if I can’t find Vultog’s knife, this object would suffice to restore his honour instead,’ Lusam thought, as he continued scanning the heavily laden shelves of the hut.
A moment later he saw another telltale magical glow beneath a pile of items and dived towards it. He knew the more time that he spent inside the hut, the more chance the faeries had of discovering Vultog’s escape and beginning their pursuit of him. And he certainly didn’t have enough spare magic to be healing large amounts of poison, even if he did reach Vultog in time to save his life.
Relief washed over Lusam when he pulled the glowing object out from under the pile and saw that it was indeed Vultog’s knife. He tucked it quickly into his belt, and secured the other item in a small pocket on his belt, before heading for the doorway of the hut. But he suddenly realised something and stopped mid-stride. He removed the round metallic object from his pocket and held it in his hand. As far as he knew this ‘Soul Stone’ didn’t belong to Vultog. If it had, and that was the reason why he had ventured into the faeries’ territory, surely he would have asked him to retrieve it along with his knife.
Lusam had already decided not to take any of the magic from Vultog’s knife unless it became absolutely necessary for their survival. For some reason, taking any magic from it just didn’t seem right to him, even knowing that Vultog and his tribe probably didn’t even know about the power it contained. But the second Soul Stone belonged to no one, and taking its magic might just mean the difference between him surviving this realm, or not. He didn’t give it another moment’s thought and drained all but a tiny amount of its magic into his own reserves. It wasn’t a huge amount, but it was like taking a drink of cool water after spending a hot day in the sun. His head finally stopped thumping, and he felt a renewed sense of optimism.
As Lusam started back to towards the doorway, he noticed Vultog’s battle axe. It had been left in the dirt by the side of the entrance, with no apparent effort to add it to the other treasured items in the hut. He hesitated to pick it up, wondering if it was a good idea to arm Vultog or not. He sighed and shook his head, reminding himself that Vultog had given his word not to attack him, and had done nothing to warrant any distrust so far. It was simply the foolish childhood stories of ogres which had tainted his view. Sure, Vultog had threatened to kill him when they had first met, but Lusam now believed that he would keep to his word—or at least, he hoped that he would. Besides, there was no telling what dangerous creatures they may encounter in the forest, and having an ogre with a battle axe would certainly tip the odds in their favour.
Lusam bent over to lift the handle of the battle axe and was surprised to see that it reached the height of his shoulders. The moment he tried to lift it off the ground it became glaringly obvious why the tiny faeries had left it in the dirt.
The thing weighed almost as much as he did.
He had seen the huge rippling muscles in Vultog’s arms, but he was amazed that even he could swing such a heavy weapon, and with such apparent ease. If magic hadn’t been such a rare commodity within the hidden realm, he would have simply levitated the weapon in front of him. But that, unfortunately, wasn’t an option. With a strained grunt, he hefted the immense weapon onto his shoulder, staggering sideways as he did so. The few hundred feet to the northern treeline suddenly looked like miles to him, as he shuffled slowly towards the open doorway.
As Lusam stepped from the hut into the strong sunlight, tiny shouts erupted all around him and the peppering of poisoned darts resumed once more. He glanced towards where he had left Vultog and was relieved to see there was no sign of him, nor could he see any faeries in that part of the village. It seemed that either they hadn’t noticed Vultog’s escape yet, or they were more concerned with his own activities. Either way, it suited him just fine as he s
lowly plodded on towards the northern side of the village.
Lusam could no longer jog or zigzag his way across the open space now that he was encumbered by the heavy battle axe, and it made the ineffectiveness of the faeries’ poisoned darts clear for all to see. Fresh shouts of alarm and concern filled the air as the faeries scrambled all around, desperate not to allow his escape with their precious trophies.
Lusam had made it about halfway to the treeline before the new attack started. At first, he thought the faeries had resorted to throwing stones from the trees above, but he soon started to see small flashes of light as the objects struck his shield. He looked up at the branches above, and could clearly see the tiny blue faeries firing at him with what looked like handheld catapults.
Gradually the intensity of the bombardment increased until it sounded like a heavy hailstorm on a shingle roof. Tiny explosions erupted all over the surface of his shield, sapping tiny, but significant amounts of his magic as a whole. He tried to increase his pace, but stumbled, almost falling head-first into the dirt with the battle axe still over his shoulder. He knew it wasn’t magic they were using, but whatever it was, it was weakening him at an alarming rate.
Some of the tiny missiles missed and exploded in the dirt all around him, covering his shield in soil and dust. Twice he had to create a second magical shield and cancel the first, allowing the debris to fall to the ground so that he could see where he was going. For such small creatures, their attacks were brutal, and he found himself reaching for the Soul Stone in Vultog’s knife just in case their bombardment intensified still further.
Lusam realised that whatever they were firing at him was fire-based, and as such he decided to change tactics. He veered off to his right and headed directly towards several of their wooden buildings. At first, the bombardment didn’t ease, but a few stray missiles quickly changed that. Smoke began to rise from one of the thatched roofs and soon flames were licking the air above. Calls of alarm and fresh commands to cease firing echoed throughout the faeries’ village.
Lusam ignored them and plodded doggedly on.
Predictably, the exploding missiles resumed once more as soon as Lusam cleared the final building, but at least he now only had a few dozen feet of open ground to cross. He was breathing heavily now with the exertion, and sweat coated his entire body. It wasn’t the first time that he’d considered dropping the axe and going on without it. But deep down he knew that they’d probably need it later, so he struggled on, hoping that Vultog had waited for him near the treeline and not gone too far into the forest.
As Lusam neared the trees, relief washed over him when he heard the whispered calls of Vultog. He knew the faeries were not far behind him because he could clearly hear their war cries, and the bombardment on his shield had not lessened any. It was a blessed relief for him to be able to duck behind the first tree he came to, and he leaned back against its wide trunk panting heavily.
Vultog stepped out from behind another tree and three of the exploding missiles immediately hit him, two on his armour and one on his exposed arm, leaving a nasty looking burn where it had struck. Vultog roared furiously at the faeries and snatched his battle axe from Lusam’s grasp as if it weighed no more than a regular hatchet. Lusam could see the battle fury in his eyes and knew he was about to charge off after the faeries if he didn’t stop him. He extended his shield around Vultog to prevent him from being hit by any more of the exploding missiles, hoping that he would quickly calm down again.
Several more missiles impacted harmlessly on Lusam’s shield, right in front of Vultog’s face. He looked curiously at the points of impact, then reached out to touch the invisible barrier, before finally turning his gaze back to Lusam. His orange-red eyes seemed to bore deep into Lusam, and he couldn’t tell if Vultog was looking at him as a friend or his next meal. One thing he did know, however, was that they needed to get out of there, and fast. His power reserves had taken yet another pounding, and it was far from over yet.
Lusam retrieved the knife from his belt and held it out towards Vultog. He felt incredibly guilty about doing it, but before Vultog could take it from his hand, he syphoned off a large portion of its magic into his own reserves. He knew without it they would both very likely die, and that he could always replace the magic he had taken later, hopefully before arriving at Vultog’s village.
Vultog’s eyes lit up at the sight of his sacred knife. He clenched his right fist and struck his chest in a salute to Lusam. “May you receive The Keeper’s blessing and live your life forever with honour, Lusam,” he said, taking the knife from his hand.
Lusam smiled and nodded his thanks, as a dozen more missiles exploded on his shield. The faeries had now flanked them on both sides and were now able to fire freely on them. Lusam suddenly regretted not asking earlier how far it was to The Serpent’s Mouth, but he dared not ask now in case the faeries overheard him and somehow managed to cut them off.
“I think we should go now, Vultog. But remember, stay close to me or we’ll never make it,” Lusam said in a low voice. Vultog nodded and grunted his reply, before turning and heading off into the forest. Lusam struggled to keep pace with him as he pushed through the thick undergrowth with his massively powerful legs.
Lusam could hear the cries of the faeries not far behind, and a quick glance over his shoulder revealed dozens of them bounding effortlessly from tree to tree in their relentless pursuit. Fortunately, it seemed that Vultog had the foresight to weave in and out of the trees, and not just travel in a straight line. It didn’t completely prevent his shield from being hit, but it certainly lessened the number of impacts that he would otherwise have been forced to absorb.
On several occasions, Lusam had to call out for Vultog to slow down, and he was rewarded by a look of disdain for his troubles. He needed a way for them to escape the faeries even before reaching The Serpent’s Mouth, and he could only think of one way to do that: travel above the trees. Using his limited power reserves to levitate might have seemed frivolous when he had originally planned their escape, but that was before he had encountered the faeries’ exploding missiles. Now it seemed the most logical thing to do, as it would surely take far less magic to levitate them both above the trees than it would defend against their constant attacks.
“Vultog, stop!” Lusam called out. Vultog skidded to a halt and spun to face him, war axe at the ready as if expecting an attack. Lusam almost ran headlong into him and had to jump to the side to avoid being impaled on the end of his axe. As Lusam grabbed onto Vultog’s arm ready to levitate, he noticed the chubby faerie that had bitten him earlier. It seemed far more brazen than the others and stood out in the open blatantly firing its catapult at them.
“Hold on,” Lusam said, rapidly levitating them into the air towards the treetops. Vultog cursed loudly. “NO! STOP!” he boomed.
“It’s alright, we’ll be safe up…” Lusam began to say, but what he saw below made him stop mid-sentence. The chubby faerie bent forward and shook its back, and from the lump between its shoulders blades, two large iridescent gossamer wings unfurled and began to rapidly flutter. Just before they entered the forest canopy, Lusam saw the chubby faerie leave the ground and fly after them.
“Oh… that’s what that lump is,” Lusam said to himself.
“STOP! … GO DOWN!” Vultog shouted in a panic-stricken voice.
A heartbeat later they emerged through the treetops into the bright sunlight above. Lusam turned to face Vultog to try and reassure him, but before he could even open his mouth they were enveloped by a large shadow.
Lusam glanced up and froze in absolute terror.
Bearing down on them was a huge red dragon, its massive talons stretched out towards them, ready to pluck them from the air. Vultog bellowed in Lusam’s ear, shocking him back to reality just in time to avoid being struck. The dragon roared in frustration as its talons closed around only empty air.
Over the next few seconds, time almost seemed to stand still for Lusam as he watched thi
ngs unfold before him. As the dragon passed by, the chubby faerie burst through the treetops about fifty feet away from them. Lusam clearly saw the look of sheer terror on its tiny face as the dragon snatched it cleanly from the air with a sickening crunch. Lusam’s heart thundered in his chest at the sight of the dragon, as he watched it beat its massive wings to avoid crashing into the treetops. He barely heard Vultog’s shouts of alarm as a second shadow blotted out the sun. He turned just in time to see another, even larger dragon diving towards them.
His blood turned to ice.
He was completely paralysed. All he could think about was the dragon from his nightmares. As he looked beyond the winged death coming to claim his life, he saw that there weren’t only two dragons. The sky was full of dragons. Hundreds of them.
Vultog screamed at him and struck him hard across the face. Lusam’s head rocked on his shoulders and his ears rang from the impact, but it snapped him back to reality with a jolt. Instinctively, he strengthened his shield with everything he had, and not a moment too soon. The emerald green dragon impacted hard on his shield, sending them both crashing through the tree canopy towards the ground below. The sudden massive power drain dizzied Lusam, and he lost control of their descent. They plummeted painfully through the branches of the trees and he barely managed to slow their fall before they hit the ground with a hard thud.
Lusam was heavily winded and remained on his back gasping for breath as he watched the huge shadows pass by overhead. He was scared to even move, but he knew that he must. The faeries would soon find them again, and now he had even less magic than before. How could he have been so stupid? He knew he should have spoken to Vultog first, and vowed never to make the same mistake again. He just hoped that they wouldn’t now have to pay for his ill-conceived actions with their lives.
