by Dean Cadman
“Of course. The Keeper knows all,” Vultog replied.
“Then he also knew that you could not, but yet he still gave his complete blessing to our joint Right of Ascension quest. Don’t you see, without each other’s help, neither of us could achieve our goal? We needed you to guide us safely here and show me the tunnel entrance, and we need my magical abilities to be able to pass through The Boundary and gather the Soul Stones. The Keeper knows that to be true. I know that to be true. And deep down, Vultog, you also know that to be true.”
Lusam watched Vultog’s face closely. He could see the conflict going on within his mind as he tried to accept his words. Lusam hated deceiving and manipulating him like that, but he knew the alternative for Vultog would be far worse. He would gladly suffer the shame and guilt over it, if it saved his friend the lifelong torture of losing his honour, as well as possibly his own faith in The Keeper. Lusam walked over to him and placed a hand on his huge muscular arm, then met his eyes and smiled.
“Besides, who’s to say we haven’t been on our quest together ever since we first met. After all, we escaped a faerie village together, survived a wyvern attack and a trip through The Serpent’s Mouth. Not to mention surviving the faerie’s poison and the threat of fire beetles in the cave. Add all of that to what we’re doing now, and I doubt that anyone could question what we have achieved together. Not even your Uncle or Brother.”
Vultog nodded slowly, then leaned forward to rest his forehead against Lusam’s. “May The Keeper be with you, my friend,” he said, quietly.
Lusam didn’t know if there was a proper way to respond to that, so he simply said, “And with you, my friend.” As Lusam stepped back he noticed how inflamed Vultog’s skin and eyes looked, and suddenly remembered that he was still in direct contact with the gas. “Vultog, you should go back into the forest until I return. The gas is too concentrated here.”
Vultog shook his head and smiled. “I will not leave you, my friend. If I’m not able to pass through The Boundary with you, the least I can do is hold my position here, just in case you need help when you return. Our fates are now one, my friend. Either we both succeed, or we both die trying. That is, and always has been the Right of Ascension way. The Keeper’s way,” he said, holding out a bag for Lusam to take. “Please take my tribe’s gifts for The Keeper with you, and leave them where he might find them.”
Lusam nodded and took the bag from him, then attached it securely to his belt. He wanted to protest and insist that Vultog retreated further into the forest, but he knew that he would be wasting his breath, as well as increasing the overall length of time that Vultog would be exposed to the gas. He guessed that Vultog’s reluctance to retreat into the forest, had more to do with proving to himself that he was worthy of completing his Right of Ascension quest, than it did anything else. And as long as he actually survived his exposure to the gas, Lusam thought that would probably be a good thing for him in the longer term. Lusam didn’t see any point in mentioning the fact that his own success was far from certain. He knew that if he failed to return, Vultog would remain exactly where he was until he also succumbed to the gas, and nothing he could say or do would change that. So instead, he grasped Vultog’s arm and wished him luck, before turning towards the towering wall of gas before him.
It was difficult to judge the exact distance to the mountain, but Lusam guessed that Vultog’s earlier estimate of about a mile was correct. The problem was, travelling on foot through the dense gas would neither be easy, or fast, and would likely consume a considerable amount of his power reserves even before he reached the tunnel entrance. Also, once inside the gas he could easily become disorientated, resulting in even more time and power being wasted. Something which he needed to avoid at all costs if he was to even stand a chance of succeeding. The problem was, there was only one way he could think of achieving it, and he didn’t like the idea one bit.
To avoid contact with the gas for as long as possible, he would have to levitate himself just above it. If he was lucky, none of the circling wyverns would notice him, and he could rapidly levitate himself all the way to the mountain, before descending into the gas directly below the mark in the rock face. If it worked, he should find himself very close to the tunnel entrance, and without having used much of his power reserves at all. If it failed, however, he might find himself using, even more, power defending against a wyvern attack than it would have taken to simply travel through the gas in the first place. But he knew that he had little choice, but to risk it.
Lusam levitated himself a few feet off the ground and looked up into the bright blue sky above. He saw dozens of wyverns circling on the rising thermals of the mountain. Some fought each other over space, but most simply soared effortlessly in the vast blueness of the sky. He closed his eyes and spoke a silent prayer to Aysha, even though he knew she would unlikely hear his words. Then as he began to slowly rise, he called out to Vultog below.
“Watch out for wyverns,” he said, keeping his eyes firmly fixed skywards. If Vultog replied, he didn’t hear him, as he shot upwards towards the top of the gas wall. A moment later he reached its upper edge, and immediately adjusted his direction of travel to take him towards the mountain. Never before had he travelled so fast whilst levitating, and he could hear the wind tearing at his magical shield as he hurtled through the air. The combination of speed, and danger from wyverns was both exhilarating and terrifying in equal measure for him. His heart beat wildly inside his chest as he scanned the sky above for any signs of dangers. He wondered if this was how a field mouse or vole might constantly feel, as it watched the skies above for any winged predators.
As he approached the scar on the mountainside he slowed his speed considerably, and the rush of the wind rapidly faded away. He barely heard the voice carried on the breeze, but he recognised not only who it belonged to, but also the urgency it held. He had been constantly scanning the sky above, but as he spun in mid-air towards the distant voice, his mistake became terrifyingly clear: he had failed to check behind himself. He froze in terror as the gigantic beast bore down on him. Its deadly talons outstretched, ready to snatch him from the air. It must have seen him moving from above, and circled in to attack from behind.
For a heartbeat, he thought about plunging himself into the gas, but he suddenly realised that he had no idea what lay below its surface. For all he knew, he could be crashing headlong into solid rock. He backed up towards the mountain and watched the wyvern grow rapidly closer. He snatched a quick glance skywards to see if any more were on their way, and was extremely relieved to find it was alone.
The wyvern screeched loudly as it came within striking distance, and just before its outstretched talons struck him, he catapulted himself skywards out of its reach. The wyvern desperately beat its huge leathery wings to try and slow itself, but it was already too late. With a sickening crunch, it collided with the rock face, then tumbled backwards towards the gas. It tried to right itself again, but was only halfway through its turn when it plunged into the gas below. Its roar of frustration was instantly replaced by one of agony. It beat its wings furiously, causing swirls of greenish-grey gas to appear at the upper surface of The Boundary, but the wyvern never reappeared. Lusam could hear its faltering cries of pain disappearing far below, as it fell through the deadly gas to its final resting place below.
Lusam’s heart thundered in his chest as he slowly levitated himself back down towards the still swirling gas. But any thoughts of respite were short-lived, as a large shadow suddenly passed overhead. With a single thought, he strengthened his magical shield and prepared himself for a massive impact. He glanced up and saw not one, but six wyverns bearing down on him. No doubt they had been made aware of his presence by the calls of the now dead wyvern. Fortunately for Lusam, however, they were tussling with each other over airspace, which was causing them to spiral downwards towards him instead of intercepting him directly. It didn’t slow their descent by much, but it was all the time Lusam needed to disappear
below the gas out of their reach.
As he slipped below the surface of The Boundary, he heard the frustrated roars of the wyverns above as they noticed their prey escaping. He couldn’t see anything below its surface. It was just a solid wall of greenish-grey fog. It was so dense that he couldn’t even see his own hand when he held it up to his face. But what was even more concerning, was the substantial power drain he’d felt as he entered the gas. It was far greater than he’d expected it to be, and he could only think of one explanation as to why: the closer he got to the mountain, the more potent the gas was.
Lusam knew that he needed to reach the ground as soon as possible and begin his search for the tunnel entrance. Although levitating didn’t require very much power, it did require some, and he had the distinct feeling that he was going to need every bit of what little power he had left before the day was done. He quickly slipped into his mage-sight so that he could see through the dense gas, but was shocked by what he saw. Or more to the point, what he didn’t see. He had expected to be able to clearly see everything around him. But instead, all he could see was a mass of overlapping shadows.
At first, he was very confused by it, but a few moments later he realised the reason why. His mage-sight only allowed him to see by detecting the varying amounts of magic around him. One object, such as a wooden door, for example, would contain more magic than the adjacent stone walls, therefore allowing him to recognise it as a door. But here, in the hidden realm, almost nothing contained magic, so everything looked the same to him.
Feelings of panic began to well up inside him. How could he possibly find the tunnel entrance, let alone navigate his way through the entire mountain if he couldn’t even see? He tried to calm himself so that he could think more clearly. He knew that he couldn’t retreat from the gas because he could still hear the sporadic calls of the wyverns above. All he could do was try to find the ground below, and reassess his situation from there.
Slowly, he began to descend again through the dense gas. Even though his mage-sight was almost as useless as his regular sight, he still continued to scan all around for any signs of danger, or even an illusive reference point. As he continued downwards, he noticed the area below him becoming gradually darker. It was like a shadow passing over another shadow. A moment later he realised that the strange shadow was actually the ground, and a wave of relief washed over him as he recognised that he wasn’t quite as blind as he’d thought.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Lusam’s feet touched down gently on the ground, and a strange eerie silence surrounded him. Even the distant calls of the wyverns no longer reached his ears. It was as if the whole world had suddenly been muted, both in colour and sounds.
Thankfully, Lusam’s mind was now slowly becoming more adept at separating the various shadowy images into more meaningful information. During his descent, he had been very concerned about becoming disorientated and losing his way in the fog-like gas. But now that he was on the ground, he could make out several distinct shadowy shapes. One was undoubtedly the remains of the dead wyvern. Its size and shape unmistakable amongst the much smaller boulders and debris strewn across the ground. As he looked around, he could clearly see that one shadow was much larger and darker than all the others. He guessed that it must be the mountain, and started to move towards it as quickly as he could. He was acutely aware of not only the constant power drain on his shield, but also the limited time that Vultog could survive in such close proximity to The Boundary. Only speed, and a good deal of luck would see either of them survive beyond the day.
Luck, as it happened, seemed to be on his side as he approached the mountain—or at least he thought it was at first. A slightly darker area of the mountain appeared to his mage-sight, and as he grew closer, it became more and more apparent that it was an entrance to a tunnel. At first, he was incredibly excited that he had found the entrance so quickly, but that excitement soon turned to apprehension as he realised there might actually be more than one tunnel in the same area. He knew from what Vultog had told him that there were many tunnels in The Sacred Mountain, but he had never thought to ask if there was more than one in this immediate area. Now he was faced with a stark choice: either use his limited time and power reserves exploring the tunnel he had just found, or search the area for any others. The problem was, even if he found another tunnel, he still wouldn’t know for sure which one he needed to use to reach the other side of the mountain. And he certainly didn’t have enough power to explore more than one possibility. With that in mind, he made his decision and stepped inside the tunnel.
He had only taken a few steps inside before his foot made contact with something heavy. He knew it wasn’t a rock because it felt slightly hollow when he tested it with his foot. He tried to make out what it was, but it only appeared as a jumbled mess to his mage-sight. Just a collection of misshaped and overlapping shadows. He was about to crouch and take a closer look when he suddenly recognised one of the shadowy shapes. It was unmistakably a battle axe—just like the one Vultog used. He made a sudden startled sound and jumped back, realising what he had just kicked.
It was the body of an orc.
No doubt it was the body of one of the orcs that Vultog had told him about earlier. But how many more would he find in this tunnel? An involuntary shudder ran through him. At least he had found the right tunnel, he thought, trying to put the grizzly image out of his mind. But the last thing he wanted, was to be tripping over half-hidden dead bodies. He quickly reverted to his normal vision and created a small light orb, but it made the visibility within the dense gas even worse. The light simply bounced straight back at him. Realising that it was a pointless waste of his power, he cancelled the spell and returned to his marginally better mage-sight instead.
A few more paces into the tunnel and he came across another, even bigger problem. The tunnel suddenly split into two, each passage leading off in a different direction. It was something that he hadn’t even considered. He had simply assumed that it would be a single tunnel leading from one side of the mountain to the other. How in Aysha’s name was he supposed to navigate his way through a maze of tunnels blind? Because if there was one branch in the tunnel, there would surely be more, he thought. The possibility of becoming lost in there terrified him. He couldn’t think of anything worse than spending his final moments scrambling in the dark for an exit that wasn’t there.
He almost gave up there and then, but an image of Neala suddenly flashed before his eyes, and he instantly knew that he couldn’t. If he did, Neala would die, along with everyone else he had ever known. Aamon would escape from the Netherworld, and he would destroy the entire world. What was his life worth compared to that?
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, reminding himself that nothing had really changed. He still needed to reach the other side of the mountain. He still needed to find the Guardian book. And he still needed to return home to Neala, or she would never forgive him.
What he needed was a way of exploring the tunnels without getting himself lost. A way of finding his way back to his starting position if he should take a wrong turn. And he knew exactly how to do it. He quickly retraced his steps back to the orc’s body and located his battle axe. Placing a hand on the cold metal he transferred a small amount of his power into it. Then he connected a thin strand of power to it, just as he had once done with the pine cones before. Only this time there would be nobody to break the strand by walking through it, and it would remain firmly fixed to the battle axe. If he happened to take a wrong turning, he could easily retrace his steps and try another tunnel instead. But more importantly, he could now find his way back out again if he needed to. With that in mind, he set off to find a route through the mountain, before either his power reserves were exhausted, or Vultog succumbed to the gas.
The tunnels seemed to stretch on for miles, and he was forced to retrace his steps many times over. Fortunately, he only encountered three more sets of remains near the entrance. Two were undoubtedly o
rcs, but the third was some kind of large horned creature, and all appeared to have been there a very long time indeed.
About an hour into his search he started to feel the first signs of magical fatigue creeping up on him. Thankfully, the drain on his shield within the tunnel had been slightly less than outside, but it had been continuous all the same. His head was now beginning to throb a little, and he knew that it would only get worse from this point on.
The tunnel no longer seemed to diverge as often as it had, and in the few places where it did, the passages were usually little more than a few paces deep. Although there was no way of knowing for certain, his gut instinct told him that he was closer to the other side of the mountain now, than he was to where he had first entered the tunnel. Several times he’d had thoughts about turning back, but he felt that he was making good progress now, and wanted to push on for as long as he could. He knew that when the time did finally come to turn back, he could quickly find his way out again by following the strand of power back to the entrance of the tunnel. And with that in mind, he pushed on even deeper into the mountain.
Five minutes later he began to feel a strange sensation. It was almost as if someone, or something had brushed up against his strand of power further back in the tunnel. At first, he thought it was simply a side effect of having extremely low power reserves. But as he focused his mind on the magical strand, he knew instantly that he wasn’t simply imagining it; something was definitely brushing up against it. A wave of fear washed through him, as his mind began to imagine all kinds of deadly creatures thundering down the pitch black tunnel towards him. He barely had enough power remaining to maintain his magical shield against the gas. There was no way that he could survive a battle as well.
