by Bill Mays
“Where are we?” Flade called out.
Arianna moved to tend to the diseased man, while Dalia used what little energy she had left to heal Petre. Another prayer from the priestess brought sight back to the ranger’s eyes. Flade’s lesions sealed and stopped bleeding altogether.
“Thank you again, my lady,” Flade grinned, happy to be able to see once more.
“Arianna, Petre still needs healing,” Dalia called out.
“Many of us do, but I fear my powers are drained,” the priestess replied wearily.
“This looks like some sort of tomb,” Jillian whispered nervously. She was afraid that speaking loudly might wake something else up. “Are you sure we should be here?”
The chamber was filled with shelves, tables, and chests. Most of the wood was rotted and broken in places. Dust-caked carvings covered the walls. Rotted books were strewn about, as was treasure. Gold, silver, and copper coins spilled from the many chests. There were also many tattered sacks with various contents poking out. In the center of the room was a large, stone casket, covered in etchings and runes similar to the ones that marked the outside of the door.
“Look at all this treasure!” Petre gasped. “It’s a fortune!”
Arianna took one look at the casket and screamed. The cry echoed off the walls loudly. She covered her mouth quickly with her own trembling hand. “No, it can’t be!” She gasped in fear.
“What is it? What’s wrong with her?” Petre groaned. “Those screams will bring the whole place down on us.” The boy had his sword and dented shield ready. He looked to the door prepared for a fight.
Normally, Dalia would have calmed her, but the lady was barely able to contain her own state of panic. She did not deal well with the undead. She had been terrified of them since an incident that claimed her mother’s life when she was but a child.
“Speak to us, Arianna,” Flade whispered as he gripped the tall woman firmly by her shoulders.
“I don’t like it here,” Jillian mumbled. “Can’t we use the necklace again? I think it’s time now. We should use the necklace. Don‘t you think it’s time now?” The girl sounded on the verge of terror. She did not care how much gold was here, she wanted out.
“That is the tomb from my nightmares, the one that has been haunting me,” Arianna began to cry. “I was meant to be here in this awful place. What does it mean? Please, Rashas, tell me what it means.” The woman seemed confused and lost. “No! I don’t care what it means. We have to escape. I don’t want to be here.”
Petre began picking through the rotted sacks and chests, while Dalia watched the door. “This is no time to worry about gold!” Jillian chastised the boy. “Didn’t you hear her? We need to escape! That talking-skeleton wants to turn us into zombies!”
“Actually, that’s not such a bad idea,” Flade spoke up.
“You think becoming zombies isn’t such a bad idea?” The girl balked in absolute shock.
“No, I wasn’t talking about the zombie part. I meant Petre’s idea. That thing is a mage so there may be some magic to aid us in here. Anything we could find would be helpful right now. Everyone look for anything that could be of use, and please avoid that casket. If it opens, head for Dalia. We’re using the necklace if things get any worse.” Arianna whispered another frightened prayer under her breath. How could things get any worse?
The lady was holding the necklace she wore in a tight grip. Her clear eyes darted from the door to the casket and back repeatedly. The ranger began searching the room, as did Jillian and Arianna, reluctantly.
“You see!” Petre called out. “It’s not a waste of time.” The boy held up a shiny, polished shield with the symbol of a ram’s head on it and tossed his own dented one aside. Jillian resisted the urge to point out that a new shield was not going to keep him alive.
Most of the chests and sacks were filled with jewels and coins but they did uncover a few items of note. Flade located a beautiful ring, which he handed to Arianna. The item was platinum with tiny diamonds sprinkling across its surface. She slipped it on and marveled over its craftsmanship. He claimed a pair of soft leather boots for himself. Jillian located a quiver of six black arrows, and a pair of fine bracers. They were iron, with a gold inlay of twisting vines. Immediately she felt a sense of protection filter over her as she clamped them on her wrists.
“I bet this stuff is worth a king’s fortune,” Petre grinned as he held a marble-sized gem up to the light.
He felt like a child digging through a new toy chest. He quickly stowed the precious stone in a pouch on his belt along with as many gold coins as it would hold. Flade found a second ring. It was silver with a blue pearl in it. If they survived, at least they would be rich, he mused. He went to offer the ring to Dalia when he noticed that Arianna had begun to tremble violently. The priestess had entered another of her seizure-ridden fits. The ranger stuffed the ring in a pouch and sprang to stabilize her, drawing everyone’s attention to the priestess.
“Not again, does she need to do that now?” Petre moaned. “That can’t be a good sign. I knew we should have tried our luck against those lizards.”
“Last time she did this, it meant a dragon was coming,” Jillian added quietly as she drew her bow and knocked an arrow.
Something was different about her trance this time. Arianna’s eyes did not roll up into her head and she did not say anything. She began to walk with a strange determination. Her visage was calm and her beauty seemed to radiate like a torch. She pulled away from Flade’s grasp and advanced on the casket in the center of the room.
“Stop her, quickly!” Dalia cried out, but it was too late.
The entranced priestess pushed the heavy lid from the casket as if it were nothing more than a sheet and sent it crashing to the floor with a loud clatter. A bright green light burst from inside, bathing the companions in its glow. Its color clashed with Arianna’s own pink light creating a weird, muted color. A raspy shriek echoed in the halls outside the room. It stole everyone’s focus. There was no mistaking Karzack’s grating, inhuman voice. The companions paused in hushed anticipation. The door to the chamber began to open. Dalia held it shut with all her strength. She scanned the area, but could not find anything to bar it with. Moans and groans sounded from outside. Petre rushed to help her brace the portal. The undead began to pound on the door mercilessly. They wanted in.
“Everyone come close! We will have to chance the necklace again,” Dalia cried out in near hysteria.
Arianna was still in her daze. She reached inside the casket and lifted a palm sized green gem from its depths. It was a cut gem of unrivaled craftsmanship. The stone glowed and pulsed with an inner light.
“What is that?” Petre gasped.
The others were speechless. Its power was strong and filled the room. They could all feel it. Flade grabbed Arianna, jarring her from her trance.
“Time to go, priestess,” he announced as he dragged her to Dalia’s side.
A smoky vapor began to pour in under the door. It had a reddish tint and smelled of rotted meat. It gathered near the casket and began to take on a human shape.
“Something got in!” Jillian cried out as she hurried to join the others around the lady.
She let an arrow fly and then gripped Dalia’s arm almost too tightly. The girl’s heart was pounding. She felt as if it would burst from her chest any moment. The arrow passed through the gaseous form harmlessly. The vapors thickened and soon Karzack stood before them, solid and raging. He searched the casket with a crazed fury tossing aside bejeweled trinkets and rotted pillows.
“Thieves!” He screamed. His pinprick eyes shone brightly with rage. “You will pay for this with your souls! I will torture you for eternity!”
The powerful undead thing coming at her, added to the knowledge of what was on the other side of the pounding door, nearly overwhelmed Dalia’s thoughts. She was on the verge of complete and utter insanity. She realized that would not do them any good. The lady focused on her task, and ca
lmed her breathing as she watched Karzack lunge her way.
Dalia tore her eyes from the glaring king and shouted at the top of her lungs, “There!” In a puff of smoke, she was gone. Everyone gripped her tightly, and transported with the lady.
Karzack’s voice rose in another raspy scream as his bony fingers passed through the smoke that had been Dalia. They had taken the gem. They had stolen his most valued possession. As the mists cleared, the undead king’s screams of torment shifted to a grating triumphant laughter. For some reason the priestess had been left behind. Arianna stood there, alone. She was leaning against a door that was being forced open by numerous undead. She was still holding the green stone, and facing one very upset sorcerer king.
“That is mine!” Karzack growled as he dove for her.
Arianna was still a little sluggish, having just awakened from her trance. She stumbled away from him, but one of his hands grabbed hold of her arm with an iron grip. His strength was impressive, and his touch, icy cold. The priestess screamed out in pain. His hand was so cold it burned her flesh. He jerked her back to his side and the green gem fell from her grasp to clatter across the floor. As its light drew his attention, Arianna shoved her glowing fist into the king’s face with a half-slap, half-punch, and flared the pink light brightly. The blow hurt her hand more than it did him, but the sparkling light dazed him. She jerked free of his grip and scrambled across the room and behind the casket. The door to the chamber crashed open. Zombies, ghouls, and skeletons shambled in, moaning in anger.
“Kill her,” Karzack hissed dismissively.
He was only concerned with his lost stone. It, too, had slid near the casket. Arianna scanned the chamber for any means of escape. She found nothing. There was only one door to the vault. Many undead came for her -- too many. She fell to her knees in tearful prayer. Only Rashas could save her now. A zombie accidentally kicked the stone and it slid to her. Its pulsing green light flashed up into her face.
“Get away from it!” Karzack screeched as he leapt to the priestess’ side. He shoved several of his minions out of his path in the process.
Maybe it was a sign, Arianna realized. She had been drawn here for a reason. Perhaps it was the answer to her prayers. All she could think to do was have faith. She snatched up the gem and stumbled into the back wall. The king cried out in fury and dove for her. She dodged aside and left him in a heap on the littered stone floor. The frightened woman ran for her life, trying hard to avoid the undead hands reaching out for her in every direction. Something tangled in her long hair, jerking her to a stop. A ghoul caught hold of her, and pulled her close. She tried to twist around and display her girdle’s holy symbol. As she struggled to break free, more hands gripped her. Undead swarmed over the woman. Bony fingers dug into her arms and legs. One zombie bit into her thigh, squirting a trail of blood down her leg. A lizard man skeleton used its claws to rip open her back. She could hear Karzack’s voice calling out for his minions to destroy her. Arianna thrashed about howling and screaming in pain as the undead tore into her. More bony claws dug into her face and neck. Her fingers closed over the gem tightly and her other hand fell to her girdle.
“Rashas, I need you!” She cried out as they dragged her to the ground to devour her.
Another ghoul sank its teeth into her hand holding the gem. She could feel her grip weakening. Her whole body was weakening. She began to grow numb to the pain. With her last thoughts, she offered her soul to Rashas, for she had failed her test. There came an explosion of white light. Whether it was the girdle, her prayers, or the gem, she could not tell; but the undead minions swarming all over her crumbled to dust. She fell back against a rotted chest. The priestess was lying in a mangled pile of blood, torn clothes, and scattered coins. Everything, Arianna included, was caked in the powder that had been her attackers. All of the undead in the room had been reduced to ash. She fell into a fit of soft sobbing laughter, and whispered thanks to her goddess for salvation. She tried to stand and pain raced through her entire body. Arianna managed to pull herself to a limping stance. Blood trickled from her many open wounds. She stared vacantly at the pulsing gem. It somehow calmed her. She wanted to sleep. Suddenly, Arianna hurtled sideways through the air to crash into the ornately carved wall of the chamber.
“Defiler, release it! It is mine!” A raspy voice screeched. “I am the Gem Mage! It belongs to me and only me!”
From behind the stone casket, rose the undead king. Karzack was missing an arm and most of his clothing. His hair had been burnt away, but he survived. He moved with an awkward limp. His left foot was also missing. The sound of his bone stump striking the floor brought Arianna back to her senses. She struggled to stand again, but her body wanted to quit. She could only rise to a sitting position. She looked up from her place on the floor atop a crumbled shelf, to see that the horrific thing was nearly upon her. The echoing sound of that bone stump striking the stone floor grew louder and louder. The king wheezed and cackled like a maniac. His pinprick eyes hungered for the pulsing stone and her death. Karzack raised his remaining hand and a green flame began to build in his palm. Arianna crawled to her knees, but he was already there, looking down on her. He released a raspy cackling laughter as he aimed his palm at her. The flame grew and shot forth in a stream to engulf the crouched woman. Arianna screamed again, though her voice was nearly gone. Her throat burned from the effort. She could smell the scent of smoldering hair. The flames twisted about her huddled form, and then sucked into the gem. She was only mildly singed by the potent spell. The king gasped in shock at the sight. The priestess looked in awe to the stone and it began to pulse stronger and faster. The rhythmic energy rode up her arm in waves of power. She feared it was going to burst. She held it away from her, too weary to toss it aside. Karzack took his chance and reached for it greedily. Massive gouts of green flames blasted forth, taking Karzack with them. The king was launched in an arc that carried him ten feet away to crash into the floor. He shrieked, groaned, and thrashed wildly as the fire devoured what was left of his body. There came a cry from the dying king that shot through the temple to its furthest reaches. The raspy hiss squealed to a deafening intensity. It was a sound Arianna could never have imagined and one she wished she had not ever heard. In seconds, everything, including the magical flame, burned away. Silence claimed the vault as the flames claimed Karzack. Only his crowned skull remained. It lay on the floor staring up at her with its dark, empty sockets. Arianna could hardly believe her eyes. She stared at the pulsing green stone with fearful respect. Every muscle ached and her voice was lost. The smell of burnt flesh hung heavy in the air. She fell to the floor and sobbed softly until she drifted into sleep born of pure exhaustion.
- Chapter 32 -
Awakenings
Vantar, speaker of the nar, received word of the lost trail of the warrior carrying the blue gem. He also learned of the continued use of the red gem by the troublesome human wizard. He waved the informant to pause while he adjusted himself in his hot bath. His scales shifted from a light gray-green to a deep red. It was a clear sign that he was getting upset. The messenger’s tail twitched nervously, and he edged away from the violent elder. The speaker motioned for the youngling to continue. It took much effort for Vantar not to lash out at the messenger. It would feel so good to kill right now, he thought.
Evidently, two gems had clashed in power somewhere over one of the surface seas. Perhaps, they had located the human warrior’s general whereabouts after all. Word trickled in from his spies that several gems of power had been awakened across Pangias. Things were escalating too quickly. The Nest Lord would not be pleased with his report.
* * * * * * * * * *
Quithine had been watching from above when the storm rolled in to assault the tiny ship. She debated breaking the rules and pushing the vessel from the storm. She really did not want to have to deal with the process of tracking down the lesser being’s carcass to claim the blue stone, especially if it were lost in the realm of the quethu. Som
ething surprising occurred. She saw the gladiator call upon the power of the gem. The backlash of magical force when the energies of the two gems eventually collided nearly knocked her and her assistants from the clouds. Not only was the wizard wielding the forbidden power of the red gem - again - but also now the warrior had begun to learn the secrets of the blue stone. Quithine did not like the way things were playing out below her. She did not like it at all. One of her assistants returned with word of the amber stone’s discovery. Another mentioned hints at the green and clear gems resurfacing. No, she did not like these developments one bit. Things were growing entirely out of hand. Why did this have to happen now? Why did it have to happen ever?
She collected her thoughts and sighed deeply. It was her duty, as speaker of the verinion race, to collect her findings and report them to the Orbec. Her long ears twitched angrily. These events meant she would most likely be watching the world below for some time to come. She would miss The Grand Event. How she hated the world of the lesser beings. She casually neglected the fact that it was because of the ancients, the verinions included, that this new world and these problems even existed.
* * * * * * * * * *
Ooblei sat on the shore of the Sorohl Sea. He watched the waves crashing against the rocks. He had lost the trail of the gladiator, but when the red and blue gems clashed, he felt EL cry out in pain. The magical backlash sent a shiver through the bones of the world. Now, two gems were in active use. It was a sad realization for the tiny, fur-covered elder.
Word arrived from one of his fellow sath. A humming message whispered through the earth. His suspicions had been correct. Another gem of power had awakened in the Acid Swamps. It was the green stone, the gem that held the most sadness for the sath. Then, along came the message of the amber stone. It had been discovered days ago. That meant four gems had resurfaced. How long would it be before the remaining two were found? Things were unfolding just as they had in the past. Their precautions had not been enough. Was this a cycle that EL was doomed to endure for all of eternity? Would the world slowly eat itself away with each new rising? At least two of the original eight stones had been lost in the last such tragedy. The black and white stones were no more, banished into another dimension. Perhaps their absence would be enough to prevent another world-shaking war. Ooblei doubted it, though. The damage already wrought by the red stone alone was devastating. He sang a soft song of solace for his beloved EL. It seemed there was little he or his people could do to prevent the tragedies of the past from being revisited.
