Pools of Darkness

by James M. Ward

  “If we don’t run into any trouble, we can be there shortly after noon tomorrow. We’re closer than you think.”

  Wordlessly Ren turned Stolen and led the gallop through the woods. The others fell in behind. Evaine led Gam’s tethered horse, and the giant cat silently darted through the underbrush, his pink nose alert to anything unusual.

  The party rode hard, and the day passed quickly. Twice Gamaliel stopped the group to listen for intruders in the woods. The first time, they discovered three small wolf cubs playing in the grass. The second time, Gamaliel stalked ahead and spied a troop of fourteen gnolls. Everyone waited silently until the gnolls were well out of range. Their caution saved them time and untold energy.

  As the companions traversed the woods, each was lost in his or her own thoughts. Ren had become increasingly agitated and short-tempered, Talenthia increasingly somber. She was frightened by the terrible events surrounding the journey. Andoralson tried to maintain an outward appearance of confidence, but inside, he was shaken.

  Evaine remained focused on the task at hand, but she became increasingly more serious. She no longer joked or laughed around the others, but instead buried herself in her spellbook whenever possible. The others still wondered what secret drove her to pursue the pools.

  Only Gamaliel and Miltiades maintained their equable dispositions. The cat remained protective of his mistress and sensitive to her moods, but the kitten in him kept him lighthearted. His spurts of playfulness—pouncing on leaves and batting at moths—were often the only humor to break up the somber mood. The paladin, stoic as ever, was the anchor holding this rocking shipload of adventurers together. Miltiades became a self-appointed morale officer and bolstered the small band at every chance.

  As darkness filled the woods, Gamaliel scouted ahead for a place to camp. The companions quickly settled into their familiar routine. Supper was quiet and all turned in early, lying close to the fire and each other. Gamaliel snuggled his giant, furry form against Evaine’s back. The ever-stoic Miltiades kept a vigilant watch.

  Gamaliel awoke at dawn and roused his mistress. He stalked into the woods to find breakfast while the sorceress lay deep in thought. She had to find the pool of darkness. She had to diffuse its evil energy. But this one frightened her more than any of the pools she had encountered before. What bothered her most was that she didn’t know why it troubled her so.

  Impatient to meet whatever lay ahead, Evaine flung back the blanket and rose to awaken the others. Gamaliel soon returned with two pheasants and turned them over to Andoralson.

  The meal cheered them a little, and Miltiades, experienced at inspiring troops before a battle, again offered words of encouragement.

  “All of you are expecting the worst. You are defeated before the battle even begins. Lighten your mental loads and your bodies will also be lighter. A man who is weighted down in battle is an easy target, like a wounded animal.”

  No one discounted the wisdom of his words. By the time they had mounted up, all were feeling considerably lighter and more fully prepared to face their nameless foe.

  The journey through the forest was easy. Ren and the druids took turns leading the way, and they always seemed able to find animal trails or at least the lightest brush to push through. As the morning wore on and the companions approached the evil cloud, the nature of the forest changed for the worst. Talenthia noticed it first. Slumping over in her saddle, she was overcome by waves of unhealthy energy. Tears welled in her eyes.

  “Andoralson, can’t you feel the forest suffering from evil? The blessings of nature are in danger. These trees are in pain.” Talenthia wept, feeling the presence of evil forcing itself into the hearts and souls of the trees.

  Ren called a halt.

  “Notice the birds, Ren,” Andoralson said soberly. “Crows and ravens, but no robins, sparrows, or finches. This has become a forest of evil.”

  Talenthia held back her tears long enough to speak. “What has the power to corrupt a forest this way?”

  Andoralson tried to comfort her. “I don’t know, Cousin—I just don’t know. But we must press on.”

  Talenthia held back her sobs, dismounted, and cast a spell of detection magic all around.

  “Talenthia, we have to move on,” Ren said gently. She ignored the ranger until the spell was complete, then spoke with new determination.

  “You all go on, due north. The center of evil is there. I’ll catch up. Don’t argue—and don’t worry about me. Perhaps I can do some good here while you carry on.”

  The group tried to convince her to accompany them, but Talenthia sat in the grass as if she was rooted there.

  Finally, the others mounted up and moved on.

  The shadowy forest closed in around them. Huge, ancient oak trees rose high into the cloudy sky, but instead of proudly guarding the forest, they were weakened by strangling red vines that looked like blood-filled veins twisting along trunks and branches. The forest floor became increasingly buried in fungi of all types. Clouds of damp spores rose with every step of a horse’s hoof. The companions wrapped rags around their mouths and noses to keep from breathing the fumes. Evaine fashioned a muzzle over Gamaliel’s sensitive nose.

  They emerged into a small clearing. Toppled stones, dark and smooth and as tall as a man, lay scattered in a vague circle.

  “By the gods, what have they done?” Andoralson shouted in horror. Leaping off his horse, he rushed to the stones, knelt on the bare earth, and gently caressed one of the larger stones. “This was the grove of a druid. Miltiades, please help me raise these stones again. Ren, take Evaine and Gamaliel and ride ahead. I’ll only be a few moments and then we’ll follow. I can’t leave until this is set right.”

  Ren wasn’t about to split the group up any further. “Druid, we can’t wait. We have to keep moving if we’re going to combat this evil, the thing at the very heart of all this destruction.”

  “No, Ren, you and Evaine go on. I can’t leave until I correct what has been defiled. Such desecration must be cured or this part of the forest could be forever cursed. Please, let me do this!”

  All could see the anguish overcoming Andoralson. Miltiades volunteered to stay with the druid and watch over him as he prepared his rites. The ranger looked at Evaine, then nodded. Against his better judgment, he turned his horse to the north.

  They rode for only a few minutes before Ren’s rage overcame him. “Damn! I feel like this evil is doing its best to split us up and stop us! Is that possible, Evaine?”

  The sorceress sighed. “That’s what evil does, Ren. It breaks up friendships, it tears apart lovers, it turns sister against brother. It can do so in the subtlest of ways. It needn’t come in the form of serpents or evil armies. It can come as greed and jealousy. We must be careful not to let it influence us.”

  Talenthia was still filled with the pain of the forest. She walked to a small rise encircled by tired, dying oaks. “My god, great Sylvanus, this forest is passing away. There is so much hurt, so much pain.” She fell to her knees. The tears poured down her face, for the pain of the forest cut to her very soul.

  “What can I do? Compassionate Sylvanus, what can I, your humble servant, do?” Talenthia rocked back and forth on her knees, repeating her plea. Her hands clawed at the earth, scratched at the dead grass and soil. “This is not right! This is death encroaching on life. By Sylvanus’s might, I will not let death triumph!” The druid screamed into the empty forest, her pain turning to anger.

  Smashing the ground with her fingers, Talenthia clawed deep into the earth. The black soil was richer here. A ray of hope glimmered in her thoughts. The evil had not penetrated the lifeblood of the woods. She closed her eyes and prayed, giving up her soul to the forest. Talenthia willingly freed her life essence. Her only thought was to capture the life that was being sucked out of the land and return it to the forest.

  The woods around her, the repressed children of nature, responded.

  A silent, intangible wave emanated from the kneeling
druid. As it radiated outward, the grass, undergrowth, and trees rustled as they were touched by the healing rays. The blood-red, choking vines shriveled away, and the vegetation absorbed the moisture it so desperately needed. Grass and trees turned a vibrant green, wilted buds flowered and bloomed on the newly freed plants. The fresh scent of moist earth and sweet blossoms filled the air. Talenthia emanated a healthy energy that allowed the forest to thrive again.

  The druid weakened, but her mind was in ecstasy as she surrendered her essence for what she loved best.

  Branches rustled noisily as new sap flowed. Freed of their evil bonds, the trees creaked a song of gratitude. The crusty fungus that coated trunks and branches flaked away and dissolved. The songs of crickets and junebugs arose from the underbrush.

  Talenthia still knelt, pouring every ounce of energy into her healing. A white mist arose ahead of her, then took the shape of a graceful unicorn. “Daughter, you have done enough. You must stop.” The unicorn’s message silently reached Talenthia’s weary mind.

  For the first time, the druid looked up to witness the transformation she had commanded. As far as she could see, the glade around her was verdant and lush. An evil darkness still permeated the area beyond her healing, but the forest was not entirely lost. It might still be saved.

  “Silvanus, my god, my spiritual father, I thank you for the power you have given me. Will this transformation endure?”

  “No, my daughter. In a few weeks, the evil will seep back into the haven you have created. I can do nothing to prevent that. But you have been given a quest that you must pursue. You cannot give any more of yourself and still hope to complete your mission.”

  “Woodland father, this forest suffers so.”

  “Yes, my child. But you cannot gather enough energy to cure it permanently. The evil that taints it is too great.”

  “If I remain here, father, will this land, the land I gladly sacrifice myself for, remain healthy and fertile?”

  “No mortal has the power to maintain the forest against the evil that would destroy it. If you remain here, this island in the woods will remain healthy. Your energy will be drained from you and you will die along with the forest.” The unicorn met her gaze with wise, sad eyes. “Only if I allow you to transcend death and assume the guardian form can you hope to cure these woods. In doing so, you would be abandoning your quest.”

  “I have lived my entire life for a chance such as this.”

  “Ah, but have you considered what your life would be if you accepted the task? You would never leave this forest, being rooted here physically and spiritually. Men who see you will look upon you as a beautiful grove in the forest, nothing more. You will spend your days alone amid the silence of the trees.”

  “But I will shelter the animals and my limbs will be home to the birds and their young. My power will feed the trees and flowers. The animals will love me and be my friends. Without this, they will all die horrid, poisoned deaths.” The druid’s tone was pleading, but respectful of her god.

  Sylvanus consented. “You have shown me that your heart and head are in agreement. I will grant your wish.” The unicorn gracefully stepped forward and bowed its head, touching Talenthia’s shoulder with the tip of its horn.

  Talenthia gave herself up to the power of her god. Her body became a milky mist rising into the air, spreading wide and taking the shape of a graceful willow tree. The white cloud settled into place and became firm. Color began to spread from the tree’s roots, working up the trunk and outward to soft green leaves. Smooth, tan bark and silky branches marked the completion of the transformation. The tree rustled with joy. From beneath its roots, a clear spring bubbled from the earth and its waters trickled down the hill. Talenthia’s healing chalice was transformed with her. Now it would permanently nourish the starving forest. For all eternity, this hill would be blessed.

  The unicorn gently touched its horn to the tree. Branches and leaves encircled it in a tender hug. After a moment, the unicorn dissolved into white mist and disappeared.

  Miles away, Andoralson was completing an ancient rite to purify the land and the stones of the druid’s circle. With the stones raised and in place, Miltiades respectfully stood guard.

  After a final sprinkling of mistletoe among the stones to seal the rite, the druid paused and attempted to contact his cousin. Reaching out with his nature magic, he immediately sensed a new, rich presence in the forest.

  “Talenthia, what have you done?” He shook his head as he realized what had happened. Although the forest around the ring of stones still shook with pain, the hill where he’d left Talenthia now gave off an exuberant energy, a feeling of joy and serenity.

  “Well done, Cousin. I must admit, I didn’t think you had it in you.” He shed a tear for himself, knowing how much he would miss her, but felt happy that she had found a permanent mission for her life. “When our quest is done, I will return and help you restore this forest.”

  “Is something wrong, noble druid?” Miltiades asked gently.

  “Something is very wrong for us, but it is very right for my cousin. Talenthia won’t be joining us to complete this quest. She has been given other duties by our god.” Moving to his horse, he told the paladin, “We’d better find Ren and the others.”

  As they departed the druid’s grove, a greenish white mist gathered protectively around the stones Andoralson had consecrated. No evil would threaten this glade in the druid’s absence.

  Evaine, Gamaliel, and Ren were miles ahead of the others. They moved as quickly as the brambles allowed. Evaine had the disturbing feeling something was waiting for them and guiding them. The sorceress tried to brush off the perception and kept the thought to herself. They traveled easily down a path that seemed to grow wider and flatter as they moved ahead.

  The forest around them was increasingly tainted with evil. The trees were drooping, bent, and choked with red vines. The path was filled with dark, spore-clogged fungi that made breathing difficult despite the damp rags on the travelers’ faces. The grotesque weeds and dark, humming insects told of a forest turned harsh and unfriendly.

  Just after midday, the path opened into a small clearing just large enough for a single cottage. Ren and Evaine both found themselves wishing the others had caught up to them.

  “I don’t believe what I’m seeing.” Ren pulled his horse to a halt and drew his sword.

  “Neither do I, but I sense no illusions at work here,” Evaine said, trying hard to detect any magics.

  Ren was truly agitated by what he saw. “Look at this. A cozy cottage with white smoke coming from the chimney. A babbling brook of clear spring water is flowing along the back. In another second, a little old lady with a bent back will open the door and sweep out the dust from her floor. Then she’ll invite us in for cake and milk.”

  “Will a tall woman of fifty winters serve instead?” a voice asked behind them.

  Whirling, the trio saw a lovely, aged woman. She wore a flowing, white woolen gown whose color matched her short, curly hair. She held a large basket filled with mushrooms, which Evaine noticed were of both the edible and deadly varieties.

  “I’ve been picking mushrooms. Please, rest your horses near the spring and come inside. I so seldom have visitors.”

  Gamaliel hissed, his golden eyes blazing. He stayed close to Evaine, waiting for her next move.

  The sorceress cast a spell of detection magic as unobtrusively as she could. Faint, emerald energy flowed from her hands, encircling the woman and the cottage in their magical glow.

  The woman’s pleasant demeanor vanished. “Is that any way to treat your hostess? Your puny magics won’t work here, girl. This is my glade, and my essence fills this forest. Now, we can have a nice little chat, or you can all be destroyed. Why are you here?”

  “We have more than just magic working for us,” Ren said, dismounting. Unlike Gamaliel and Evaine, Ren was attracted to this woman and trusted her immediately. She was truly lovely and seemed perfectly harmless. Ren f
elt that her eyes looked into his heart and touched his soul. He knew that beauty could hide all sorts of evil, but still, she was fascinating.

  Evaine spoke to the cat, watching Ren carefully. “Come on, Tooth. We should be polite and accept this lady’s hospitality.”

  The white-haired woman’s mood softened and she eyed Ren closely. “I am called Lanula. What are your names?”

  “The ranger is called Blade, I am Coran, and this is my pet, Tooth.” Evaine lied.

  Ren stood by, looking slightly puzzled. He couldn’t understand why Evaine had given this charming woman false names, but he let her speak. He knew magic was involved somehow, and he firmly believed in leaving such matters to the wizards.

  Lanula bent down to scratch Gamaliel’s ears before he had a chance to back away. “Such a pretty cat you are, Tooth. Why don’t you use your pendant and talk with us?”

  The feline found himself instantly changing to a barbarian.

  “That’s better. You are so much more handsome this way.” The woman’s voice dripped honey.

  Gam, why did you do that? Evaine mentally asked her surprised companion.

  The cat’s voice in her mind sounded slightly panicked. I don’t know! She asked me to change, and it seemed like the natural thing to do. She acts like a nice creature, but she has a strange type of control. I still can’t smell anything. Are you sure she’s evil?

  Evaine didn’t like this. Drawing on some old defensive spells her mentor had taught her, she quickly summoned a pale green aura around herself and her two male companions.

  Lanula stood in her doorway, amused. “You are a whelp of Sebastian’s, aren’t you?”

  Evaine was irritated by the woman’s attitude, but she forced herself to remain composed. This was either the creature she sought—her mentor’s rival—or a dangerous trick.

  Looking the men squarely in the face, Lanula posed seductively and summoned them. “Come, Tooth. Come, Blade. Enter my cottage and let me warm your tired bodies by the fire.”