by Victor Kloss
“We’re leaving,” Ben said a little too quickly. They had no intention of being here in an hour’s time. The goblins gave them a nasty look as they passed, and Ben got the idea that they would much rather have taken them in.
“That wasn’t too bad,” Charlie said. “I was certain they would attack us, or at least capture us. But clan rules are pretty strict here, and I expect that held them in line.”
Ben couldn’t help thinking of the Institute. They made entry to the void illegal, citing the place as evil and without law or mercy. But that wasn’t entirely true – there were laws, just not of the Institute’s making.
The goblin villages, and indeed other settlements containing other races, became more frequent. Some were small, with no more than a dozen residences, but others resembled small towns. Each time they tried to skirt around them, but on a couple of occasions they found themselves fighting, or more frequently running from, the residents.
Eventually the urban district passed, and the towns ceased.
“I really hope we don’t come across anything more,” Charlie said. His face was scratched from a recent brawl with a nasty plant that he had stepped into when running at full pelt from a band of surprisingly quick trolls. Ben, too, was battered and bruised, and he could no longer put his full weight on his left leg. He tried healing himself by pure will, but he was tired, and it was no longer as effective as it was when they had first arrived.
Ben took to looking at his brooch every hour now; two-thirds of it was coloured in red, and somehow it seemed like it was speeding up. The only consolation was that the dwarf trail seemed to be getting stronger; the little red line was definitely becoming more substantial.
“I hope that means we’re getting close,” Ben said.
Charlie didn’t answer. He was staring ahead; his tired eyes suddenly looked as though they were about to pop out of their sockets. Ben immediately saw why.
The landscape ahead of them was dramatically different to anything they’d seen so far. Life, which had been scarce before, was completely absent. The dry grass gave way to a peculiar, marble-like surface, with swirls of red and black. The landscape was flat and endless, devoid of scenery.
Except for one thing.
Dominating the horizon was a black castle, so large that the turrets seemed to touch the sky. Despite the distance, they could feel a peculiar, disturbing presence from the mighty structure that made both of them shiver.
“Demons,” Charlie said. “I read about their castles, but I thought the author was exaggerating. Clearly not.”
The red trail continued onwards, towards the castle, and it was with great reluctance that they continued to follow it.
“Why would the dwarf visit the demons?” Ben asked.
Charlie gave an uncomfortable shrug. “Maybe he thought only they would be strong enough to offer him a way out.”
The castle became both more impressive and more daunting with each passing minute. It had a peculiar glaze that made the walls shine and added to its aura of invulnerability. The castle had the strange effect of making it feel like you were being watched. The feeling grew, and Ben soon realised it wasn’t just a feeling.
“We’re being watched,” Ben said quietly.
Charlie wore a worried frown. “I can feel it too. We must be close enough to the castle to have attracted their attention.”
When you are walking through such a bare landscape for so long, with nothing to look at bar the castle, anything that crops up on the horizon is interesting. And so it was with the forest. It materialised in the distance to their right, and ran parallel with them, towards and beyond the castle. Even from here, Ben could tell the trees were big. More significantly, they were green, and full of life.
Ben’s neck started to hurt, as he gazed upon the forest, preferring to look at it rather than the daunting castle. But even if he had been staring dead ahead, he wouldn’t have seen the barrier. Ben felt a sudden resistance, slowing his walk momentarily, before he passed through.
“What was that?” Ben asked, turning around and trying to see the barrier they had passed through.
Charlie started tapping frantically on his shoulder.
Ben turned back around, and immediately realised that the barrier they passed through wasn’t supposed to stop people, but prevent them from seeing what lay beyond.
It was prison hell. Hundreds of single cages floated twenty feet in the air, in neat rows and columns, creating a grid of prisoners. Many of the cells were occupied by goblins, but others were taken by humans, dwarves, trolls, even a few elves, and many more races Ben couldn’t identify.
The noise was incredible, even from a distance. As soon as the prisoners spotted them, they started waving and calling, shaking their bars, and generally causing a cacophony.
“The demon’s prison,” Charlie said softly. “I read about it, but it’s even worse in real life. They just leave them out here to die.”
Ben was trying to see where the red trail went. At the beginning it had been no more than a slender piece of string; now it looked more like a rope, glowing bright and strong. The trail went right into the heart of the floating cages, but did it continue beyond, into the castle? Or was the dwarf trapped in one of the cages?
“Come on,” Ben said. “We don’t have much time.”
The noise from the prisoners increased as they approached, and reached a crescendo when they entered the field of floating cages.
“Humans! Get me out of here!”
“Psst, over here, kids. I’ve got an offer for you.”
“Please help me. I’m dying.”
The desperate ones screamed and shouted at them. Others tried to coax them with riches or power; still others looked at them with curiosity but said nothing. The worst were those who had given up, and sat slumped in their cages, waiting, perhaps even hoping, for death. Ben was almost glad they were twenty feet in the air, as their outstretched arms (barring a few with ridiculously long limbs) couldn’t reach them. Were the prisoners good or evil? Certainly the majority seemed the latter; the mere fact that they were inside the void reaffirmed that. But Ben spotted a few whom he wished he could have helped.
Ben forced himself to zone out the voices and focused on the trail, his heart accelerating. They were close. The dwarf was either in the prison field or in the castle. He didn’t even want to think about the latter; the idea of breaching the castle was too daunting.
The red trail started to rise upwards, and Ben clenched his fist in hope. Soon it was as high as Ben, and it kept getting higher. The trail headed right for an ugly troll that barely fit into its cage. It swerved left, then right, and Ben followed it, now almost running.
Standing in his own cage, just behind the troll, the dwarf mage stared at them, clenching the bars, curiosity etched on his weather-worn face.
— Chapter Twenty-Seven —
Hellhounds
There were a few subtle differences between the appearance of the dwarf here and the one lying in the cavern. He had the same prominent nose and thick, ginger beard, but his face had a worn expression Ben hadn’t noticed before, and it looked thinner, almost gaunt. It was his eyes that really stood out; they had a haunted look about them, emphasised by the bags underneath them.
It occurred to Ben that he didn’t even know the dwarf’s name, nor had he given a moment’s thought about what he was going to say; he always assumed it would come naturally, but natural was hard when you were surrounded by floating cages with prisoners screaming at you.
“My name is Elander Farseeker,” the dwarf said in a surprisingly deep voice. His manner wasn’t unfriendly, but guarded. “I have been expecting you.”
Ben gave the dwarf an incredulous look. “You have?”
Elander nodded. “I can sense your bodies resting near mine. I guessed you were looking for me.”
Ben knew he should blast Elander out of the cage and get away from this horri
ble place as soon as possible, but he hesitated. Questions that he had been sitting on for some time suddenly started buzzing round his head, and he simply couldn’t wait until they had made an escape before asking them.
“Yes, we’ve been looking for you,” Ben said, carefully choosing his words. “We have been searching for anyone connected to a certain dwarf.”
Elander appeared unsurprised. “The Silver Dwarf. My late father.”
Ben managed to restrict his exultation to a subtly clenched fist. They had him. They had the Guardian.
A particularly loud cry came from a nearby cage, making him jolt. He turned and saw a troll shaking the cage bars with such force that it was a miracle they hadn’t snapped. Ben knew they should get the dwarf out now and leave, but he couldn’t resist asking one more question.
“Does Elizabeth’s Armour mean anything to you?”
Elander’s bushy, ginger eyebrows rose. He didn’t reply immediately, and Ben found himself waiting on tenterhooks, the screams and shouts from the other prisoners fading into a distant hum.
“I know about her armour. I know about its legacy,” Elander said. “More than that I’m not willing to say until I am safe and know I can trust you.”
Ben nodded, suppressing the euphoria that coursed through his body. He raised his spellshooter, but to his surprise, the dwarf raised both hands in warning.
“Wait. The moment you free me, or any of us, you will alert the guards.”
Ben cursed. “Great. What sort of guards?”
“Hellhounds. Big ones.”
Charlie groaned, and placed his hand over his face. “I read that they cannot be killed. Is that true?”
“You are well read,” the dwarf said.
“A minor drawback,” Ben said. “But it can’t be helped. What’s the best way to free you?”
“Use your spellshooter to cast an open-lock spell. The cage inhibits any magic from within, but it is vulnerable to external magic.”
Ben raised his spellshooter, but Charlie immediately lowered it.
“Wait a second. I’ve read about these hellhounds. Like you said, they cannot be killed. I also read that they have three heads and relish pain. How are we supposed to stop them?”
“We don’t,” Elander said. “If we can make it to the forest, we will be safe. They fear the trees.”
Charlie appeared caught off guard, as if he wasn’t expecting a reasonable solution. Ben took the chance to step in.
“Has anyone ever managed a successful rescue?”
“Not during my time here,” Elander said. “But that is only because few people attempt it. Agrath has a certain reputation that keeps people away.”
“Agrath?”
The dwarf motioned behind him. “The castle.”
Charlie turned to Ben, his face anxious. “Are we sure about this?”
“It doesn’t matter now,” Elander said, before Ben could reply.
“What do you mean?”
The dwarf tugged his thick, ginger beard. “They know you are here. Can’t you feel them? They won’t let you leave.”
If Elander was bluffing in order to convince them to set him free, it was convincing. Ben knew they were being watched; he had felt it before they had even come across the prison field.
“So, if we free you, what’s the plan? Just run like hell?”
“Yes. Do you know how to use the void to run fast?”
Ben nodded. “Yeah, running and jumping we can do.”
“Good. Don’t look back, and don’t stop. I may fall behind, as I am weak. Do not come for me; I can look after myself. Is that clear?”
“Crystal,” Ben said. He lifted his spellshooter, and turned to Charlie. “You ready?”
“Can’t wait.”
Ben aimed his spellshooter at the small lock on the cage. An unlocking spell was a simple one, but he threw all his willpower and concentration behind it anyway. He pulled the trigger, and a tiny, peanut-sized pellet shot forth, right into the lock’s keyhole.
There was a click, and the cage door opened with a creak. Elander shoved it the remainder of the way, and jumped down, landing lightly on his feet despite his bulk.
The roar that came from the castle was thunderous. The ground shook violently, and Ben was thrown from his feet. A stubby hand reached out, and Elander hauled Ben up.
“Run!” Elander said.
Ben leapt forwards, and saw Charlie and the dwarf do the same, taking giant leaps that would have been impossible at home. He flew across the plain; the captives in their floating cages became a blur, their voices slurred.
A chorus of roars came from behind. The hellhounds had exited the castle. Against his better judgement, Ben glanced back, and immediately wished he hadn’t. The hellhounds were at least five feet at the shoulder. They had three heads, and saliva flowed from their huge jaws. There was a manic look in their eyes – the look of a predator on the hunt. The other prisoners were watching, some urging him on, others shouting at the hellhounds, but most still crying to be set free.
Set free. Ben’s eyes widened. There was an idea.
He slowed a fraction, drew his spellshooter, and started firing unlocking spells at the remaining cages. He didn’t know how many hit the mark, but the thuds and exalted yelps indicated some had been freed.
Maybe they would distract the hellhounds.
In a heartbeat, Ben was out of the cage fields, and onto the open plain, hurtling his way towards the distant forest. He willed his legs to go faster, and felt a surge of excitement as he flew across the plain at speeds he’d only ever experienced in a car. Charlie led the way, but the dwarf was lagging a little, and it wasn’t long before Ben had caught up with him.
The thundering footsteps came from nowhere. Ben glanced back in shock, and saw a hellhound right on his heels. Its paws left a trail of flames, and Ben noticed they weren’t even touching the ground. The hellhound snarled, and Ben felt something sharp and wet scratch the back of his legs. He cried out in pain and almost fell. The left head of the hellhound was nearly upon him, snapping and snarling.
From somewhere deep inside, he summoned everything he had, and increased his pace so that he was practically flying. The hellhound fell behind for a moment, before responding with its own burst in pace.
A pained shout made Ben throw another look over his shoulder. One of the other hellhounds was chasing Elander, and had caught up to him, launching a series of lightning quick attacks with each of its heads. Elander had summoned a shield, which deflected some of the blows, but his arm was bloody, and the dwarf had noticeably slowed.
Ben was torn. They needed the dwarf, and it went against every fibre in his body to leave a comrade in danger, no matter how recently they had met. He glanced back again, and managed to make brief eye contact with the dwarf.
“Keep going!” Elander said with a furious wave. “Keep running, you fool!”
Ben felt a set of jaws snap right behind him, which was all the motivation he needed. The forest was close now, less than a hundred yards away. The trees were tall and imposing, standing in defiance of their evil neighbour. Ahead, he saw Charlie reach the tree line, and then turn, urging him on. Fifty feet. Twenty feet. Ten.
Ben didn’t hear the hellhound jump, but he certainly felt it as the two-hundred-pound beast landed on his shoulders, its mighty claws digging into his flesh. Ben screamed in pain and fell, rolling and ending up on his back. When he looked up, the three heads were looming over him, saliva dripping all over his chest. There was an evil, frenzied look in their eyes. Ben used his knee to launch a kick into the hellhound’s underbelly, but it was utterly ineffective. The hellhound sniffed and, in that instance, Ben knew he had seconds to live, before he was devoured.
Something white fizzed above him and smashed into the hellhound. For a fraction of a second the hellhound was distracted, and looked up, not in pain, but annoyance.
Ben scrambled from under the
hellhound, and launched himself at the tree line. He heard the hellhound roar in anger, and felt something brush his leg. But his leap was true, and he landed just inside the forest, on the soft mossy floor. Ben lay there panting, staring up at the forest ceiling, pain and exhaustion coursing through his body.
“Ben!”
Charlie’s cry cut through his agony and, with a groan, he stumbled to his feet, and followed Charlie’s horrified gaze out onto the plain.
The dwarf had been set on by two hellhounds. They ran by his side, launching their huge frames at him. The dwarf had a quarterstaff in his hands, and every time the hellhounds attacked, he whacked them on one of their many heads. The impact was monstrous, and enough to repel the hellhounds, if only for a moment. It was working, but the dwarf was slowing, and his defences were gradually become less effective.
Ben raised his spellshooter, and saw Charlie do the same. They sent spells that formed into giant rocks, hurtling at the hellhounds. It was probably little more than an irritating tickle, but it was enough. The attacks on the dwarf stopped just for a moment, while the hellhounds glanced their way. The burst of acceleration the dwarf made was astonishing, given his physical state. He flew across the plain, and leapt, as if gravity were a thing for lesser mortals, sailing over their heads, into the forest.
The hellhounds approached the very edge of the forest, snapping and snarling. But they didn’t enter and, eventually, they turned, and headed back towards the castle.
Ben collapsed back on the forest floor, in pain and exhaustion. Charlie and Elander followed suit.
— Chapter Twenty-Eight —
Elander Farseeker’s Story
Ben wanted to get up. There were questions burning inside his head and they had finally found the one person who could answer them. But his body wouldn’t respond. His shoulders were agony where the hellhounds had dug their claws in, and his legs were scratched and bruised. His head was thumping, though he wasn’t sure how that had come about. He lay on the forest floor trying to catch his breath and stem the pain that seemed to come from everywhere.
