by Dean Cadman
Lusam tried on several occasions to ask Vultog more about the area around The Sacred Mountain, but he seemed reluctant to speak whilst they travelled through the forest. When Lusam pressed him on the issue, he claimed that it was best not to talk in case they attracted any nearby predators, and with that, Lusam was more than happy to remain silent. Fortunately, the only dangerous creatures they came across were two strange looking insects, neither of which Lusam would have paid much attention to if he’d been alone. But he found out later that they were quite deadly, and a single sting could have killed him in seconds.
Lusam was thoroughly exhausted by the time Vultog called a halt to their progress. His clothes were completely sodden with sweat and they clung uncomfortably to his skin. His trousers had been chaffing his inner legs for hours, and even the skin on his hands and face had started to itch quite badly. In fact, in the last few minutes, it had actually turned more into a burning sensation than an itch. At first, he thought that he must have inadvertently brushed past a mildly poisonous plant, similar to the Spiny Ferns which grew in the forests of the Elveen Mountains. But the real reason soon became apparent when Vultog broke the silence a moment later.
“We have reached the edge of The Boundary. I can feel its touch on my skin,” he said, reaching down and plucking a large leaf off a nearby plant, then rubbing it on his skin. Lusam realised that plant must offer some relief from the burning and itching sensations, and grabbed a couple of leaves for himself. He had barely started to rub his skin with them before Vultog gave him a strange look.
“What?” Lusam asked. “I presumed they helped to stop the burning sensation.”
“They do, but you told me you were immune to The Boundary’s gas. How can you possibly hope to cross it if you’re already feeling its effects?”
Lusam smiled at him. “Don’t worry, my magic should protect me. I just don’t want to use it until I really have to,” he said, rubbing the leaves across the back of his hands.
“I hope you’re right,” Vultog said, with a hint of doubt in his voice.
“So do I,” Lusam though to himself, but he didn’t say as much. “How far is it to tunnel entrance?” he asked, trying to sound confident.
Vultog shrugged. “I don’t know, I’ve never been there. Maybe six or seven miles.”
“What!” Lusam replied, a little shocked by his reply. He suddenly realised that if the gas was already starting to have an effect on him so far away from The Sacred Mountain, he might have to activate his shield long before they arrived there. Then he had to assume that the deadly gas field would stretch for at least an equal distance on the other side of the mountain. He barely dared to ask his next question, but he knew that he must. “How much closer can we get to The Sacred Mountain before the gas becomes deadly?”
“We can probably get within a mile of it at this time of year. But it will continue to get more uncomfortable the closer we get. It’s best not to remain within the gas any longer than we must, as its effects on the skin can be long-lasting. The Boundary itself will be quite obvious once we see it. It forms a thick fog-like barrier around the base of the mountain. What you can feel here is only a weakened remnant that has drifted away from The Boundary, and become diluted with the air of the forest. Or at least most believe that to be true.”
“Most?” Lusam asked, curiously.
“Yes, but a few others believe differently. They think the weakened gas is a means of warning, so the forest creatures don’t get themselves killed by inadvertently stumbling into The Boundary.”
“But you don’t believe that?”
Vultog shrugged. “I suppose it would make sense that The Keeper wouldn’t want his creations dying for no good reason. But I know from experience that the extent of the weakened gas varies greatly from season to season, depending mainly on the strength of the wind. There are even stories regarding several particularly bad storms, when it was possible to walk right up to The Boundary itself, with little or no evidence of the weakened gas preceding it. Surely if it was The Keeper’s true intention to forewarn his creations of the danger, he would never allow such a thing to happen.”
Lusam just nodded. Truth be told, after witnessing the deception of the Oracle with the weighted Keeper’s Eyes, he didn’t really want to speculate on the validity of either theory. As far as he was concerned, The Boundary was simply another obstacle in his way and it didn’t really matter what its real function was, just as long as he could get through it. And judging by Vultog’s lack of knowledge regarding what lay beyond The Boundary, that outcome was by no means certain.
“I don’t suppose Hagu left your tribe a map of the tunnel did he?” Lusam said, half in jest.
“No,” Vultog replied, shaking his head. “In fact, we’re not even agreed on which tunnel he used.”
Lusam’s mouth fell open. “And you waited until now to tell me that? Just how many tunnels are there?”
Vultog shrugged. “At least a dozen have been reported. Their shadows are occasionally visible through The Boundary during the worst storms, but no one who enters them ever returns to report any details.”
Lusam cursed under his breath. If it hadn’t already been hard enough for him, it certainly would be now. Not only would he have to maintain his shield for an extended period of time whilst he travelled through The Boundary, he would now also have to search, Aysha knows how many tunnels, to find his way through the mountain. And that relied, of course, on the ancient stories of Hagu actually being true in the first place. For all he knew, it could be nothing more than a made up story to explain the existence of the Soul Stones.
For a moment he considered levitating over the mountain instead, but the thought of wyverns attacking him was more than enough to convince him to change his mind. Maintaining his shield against the poisonous gas would be hard enough, but successfully defending himself against even a single wyvern would take far more magic than he currently had—and the skies above the forest were swarming with them. The simple truth was that he had no choice. He had to find a way through the tunnels. Either that or die trying, he thought.
“Okay, let’s go,” Lusam said, grabbing a large handful of the leaves to take with him.
“Wait,” Vultog called after him. “I must ask you something, my friend. And I want you to tell me the truth.”
Lusam stopped dead in his tracks, and dread began to fill him. He knew exactly what Vultog was about to say. He was just surprised it had taken him so long to bring it up. He turned towards him, trying to keep a neutral look on his face, and said, “Sure, what is it?”
Vultog looked him in the eyes, and said, “Did you attempt to influence the result of the Keeper’s Eyes?”
Lusam met his eyes squarely. He didn’t want to lie to him—so he didn’t. “No more than the Oracle,” he replied, truthfully.
Vultog studied his face for a moment, then nodded. “Then let us continue on our journey, my friend, and see the will of The Keeper done,” he said, grabbing a handful of leaves for himself and resuming his northerly direction of travel. Lusam released his pent-up breath and hurried after him, relieved that he hadn’t questioned him further.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Lusam caught an occasional glimpse of The Sacred Mountain looming over them through the treetops, but it never seemed to get any closer as they relentlessly trudged on through the thinning forest. The gas, as Vultog predicted, had become more and more uncomfortable as they drew closer to The Boundary. Lusam’s exposed skin had become mottled with angry red blotches, and it itched and burned in equal measure. Apparently, it wasn’t only humans and orcs that disliked the effects of the gas. It had been at least a couple of hours since they had even heard another creature, let alone seen one. And even the trees and plants looked sickly in that part of the forest.
Just as Lusam began to think that he might be forced to use some of his limited magic in order to soothe his skin, Vultog called a halt. Lusam watched as he dug through the bag of gifts from the other orc
s. He eventually pulled out a jar, a bottle, and a small roll of cloth. He then tore the cloth into two equal lengths and dowsed both pieces in a clear liquid from the bottle.
“Here, tie this around your nose and mouth. It will help to filter the gas from the air so it doesn’t burn your lungs as much. The gas will get much stronger from this point on, and it will also start to hurt your eyes,” he said, handing Lusam a piece of dripping cloth. Lusam didn’t know what the liquid was, but he could tell it was some kind of oil, and it smelled really bad. But nowhere near as bad as the thick greasy substance that Vultog scooped out of the jar and smeared over his hands and face. The smell was horrendous. And even at a good distance, it made Lusam retch. He was horrified when Vultog handed him the jar and told him to cover his own hands and face with it.
Lusam opened the jar and the smell almost made him vomit. Vultog chuckled to himself. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to the smell of it,” he said, grinning widely.
“I doubt that,” Lusam replied, between retches. “What in the Seven Hells is it?”
“Trust me, my friend, you don’t want to know. But it does protect your skin, so you should use it.”
“How close to The Boundary are we now?” Lusam asked, wrinkling his nose up at the disgusting smell.
“We’re not that far away. Maybe half a mile at most,” Vultog replied, glancing towards the looming mountain ahead. Lusam breathed a sigh of relief. The remaining distance should take them less than ten minutes to cover, especially now the forest undergrowth had thinned out so much. Thankfully, he would no longer need to smear his own skin with the foul smelling substance. He could simply use a weak magical shield instead. The power it would take for him to maintain a weak shield around his hands and face for ten minutes would be negligible, and even in his weakened state, infinitely more preferable than the alternative. He replaced the lid on the jar and passed it back to Vultog, along with his oil-soaked cloth.
“I won’t need those, thanks. I’ll use my magic from now on,” he said, raising a weak shield around his exposed areas. It took him a moment to adjust the shield to filter out the gas from the surrounding air, but he was soon breathing clean air once more. He really wanted to heal his irritated skin, but knew it would consume even more of his limited power reserves. He would simply have to put up with the itching and burning sensations, just like Vultog, he told himself.
Vultog nodded and took the jar and oil-soaked cloth without comment, then quickly repacked them inside his bag. “We should continue then,” he said, and without waiting for a reply, he headed off towards The Sacred Mountain.
Vultog’s estimate proved to be correct, and a few minutes later they found themselves staring at The Boundary. It appeared to be an unnatural greenish-grey vertical wall of gas, which stretched from the ground and rose up several hundred feet into the air. It wasn’t an irregular shape like a fog bank, but instead an almost perfectly vertical wall of dense opaque gas. Lusam could see now why the orcs believed it to be of divine origin, and couldn’t help wondering exactly what was holding it in place. There were no signs of magic, nor any other obvious reasons why the gas couldn’t simply disperse into the air, instead of maintaining its almost perfect vertical shape.
“This way,” Vultog said, skirting west along The Boundary’s edge. “The tunnel that we most associate with Hagu, is directly below that scar in the rock face.”
Lusam could clearly see the mark that Vultog was referring to, and was relieved to see that they had emerged from the forest very close to it.
When they arrived, Lusam stared at the solid wall of gas for a time, wondering how deadly it actually was. He broke off a small branch from a nearby tree and momentarily placed it inside the gas of The Boundary, before pulling it back out to see the results. As expected, the leaves had curled and discoloured with the contact, but other than that the branch itself seemed mostly intact. He threw the branch aside and broke off another from a different tree. This time before plunging it into the gas, he placed a magical shield around it to see how effective it would be against the concentrated gas. He figured it would be far better to find out if his shield actually worked using the branch first, rather than risking his own hand.
As the shielded branch made contact with The Boundary, Lusam distinctly felt the power drain. It was far greater than he had expected and he quickly removed the branch from the gas and dispelled the shield around it. Vultog noticed the sudden look of concern on his face and stepped towards him. “Are you able to pass through The Boundary?” he asked, calmly.
Lusam met his eyes. He could see the doubt and concern on his face, and fully understood the reasons why. Failing to complete his first Right of Ascension quest had been bad enough for Vultog, but at least he and his tribe had come to accept it, including what it would mean for their future leadership. But if he failed this time, the outcome would be very different.
Lusam had interfered with the results of the Keeper’s Eyes so that every member of the tribe—including Vultog himself—now believed it was the will of The Keeper that he should be granted second chance to undertake his Right of Ascension quest. But not just any Right of Ascension quest. Lusam had manipulated them all into allowing Vultog to attempt the most difficult Right of Ascension quest of all. If he failed now, not only would Vultog’s honour be in doubt, but also his faith in The Keeper, and more importantly, The Keeper’s faith in him. After all, how could Vultog possibly fail if The Keeper had given him his complete blessing inside The Cave of Enlightenment for all to see?
Lusam felt his insides twisting as the possibility of failure suddenly became a reality for him. He looked up at the sky above and saw dozens of wyverns circling high above in the clear blue sky. There was simply no way that he could attempt to go over the mountain. He would be killed even before he reached the summit. He turned his gaze back to Vultog and found him still waiting patiently for a reply. He looked at the enormous orc and knew instantly that there was no way he could maintain a shield around both of them inside The Boundary. Vultog was simply too large, and even if it was possible to stay close enough together inside the tunnel, it would still take far too much of his limited power reserves to protect them both. He was far from certain as to whether he could even make it through the tunnel alone, but he felt that he would stand a far better chance of succeeding if he was. He knew Vultog wouldn’t be happy about it, but if they were going to prevail, it was the only way.
Lusam knew that Vultog would see his own inability to accompany him through the mountain as a failure on his part. In his mind, simply waiting for Lusam to return with the sacred Soul Stones would not be enough to consider his own Right of Ascension a success. Lusam realised that he needed a way to convince him otherwise, or he would spend the rest of his life punishing himself for something that was beyond his control. And Lusam had no doubt whatsoever, that his Uncle and Brother would do the same. Although he despised the idea of using Vultog’s belief in The Keeper against him, he knew that he must—yet again.
“Yes, I believe that I can pass through The Boundary. But I must go alone,” Lusam replied. Vultog’s eyes went wide and he started to protest, but Lusam held up a hand and continued. “My power reserves are very low at the moment, Vultog, so I can’t possibly protect us both. We would never make it to the other side before my shield failed, and we would both die.”
“Better to die trying than be branded a spoguk by our own people,” Vultog hissed, obviously angry at the perceived deception.
Lusam shook his head. “No, Vultog. You could never be a spoguk. No one who knows you would ever consider you to be without honour, and certainly never a coward. Let me ask you something. What is the most dangerous creature that we could have encountered in the forest on our way here?”
Vultog stared at him for what felt like a very long time before he eventually answered. “A Dast,” he replied.
“What’s a Dast?” Lusam asked.
“A small deadly stinging insect.”
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��Oh, I guess that’s a bad example then,” Lusam replied. “What’s the largest, most powerful creature that we might have encountered in the forest?”
“An ettin,” Vultog replied without pause, and before Lusam could ask him what an ettin was, he spoke again. “A creature twice the size of an orc with two heads and little intelligence. They are rare now, but are sometimes still seen within the forest.”
Lusam fought back the urge to ask what other dangers might be lurking in the forest, but he knew it wasn’t really that important. What was important, was convincing Vultog that his contribution to their quest merited recognition.
“So, if we had met an ettin in the forest, what would you have done?” Lusam asked.
“I would have tried to kill it before it killed us,” Vultog replied, bluntly.
“Could I have killed it?”
Vultog grinned and shook his head. “No, my friend. I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
Vultog paused as if considering his words carefully. Lusam guessed that he didn’t want to insult him, so he answered his own question.
“Because I’m not strong enough, and it would have killed me,” Lusam said, bluntly.
Vultog nodded.
“That’s fine, Vultog, I understand. You’re the strongest, so if we encountered an ettin, you would be better suited to fight it. Just as I was better suited to retrieve the Soul Stones in the faeries’ village, because of my magical shield. If you had attempted it, their poison darts would have killed you. You see, we each do what we can with our given skills and abilities—just like now.”
“No! This is different,” Vultog snapped. “We’re both here on our Right of Ascension quest. I cannot sit idly by and do nothing whilst you gather Souls Stones on my behalf, then simply walk back into my village and proclaim my success.”
This was it. This was the part Lusam had been dreading. “But you haven’t done ‘nothing’. You’ve guided me safely to The Sacred Mountain, through a forest that could easily have killed me. Then you’ve shared your knowledge of which tunnel and where to find it. Without you, Vultog, I would never have gotten this far. And I’m sure The Keeper knows that too. Let me ask you this—do you think The Keeper knew that I could pass through The Boundary?”
