“Where are you headed now?” Gwen asked them.
“The oracle has said to go east and find the Mirror,” Folkvar began. He shook his head. “But since I left with the earthling that first time, I have wondered if I should not return to my people and help them escape this plague. I am the war chief’s son and have a duty to my clan.”
“Clan of monsters,” the oracle muttered. This time Galis did not silence him.
“I can understand that,” Gwen said to Folkvar. “After finding the Mirror, we should return to Calimorden and inform the queen of what we know. The Mirror is a great object of earthling lore and my mother knows something. She can send out messengers to all the corners of the plane of what we learn.”
Folkvar shook his head. “Your messengers would be dead before they reached my clan. Why not go to them after we find the Mirror? I’d trust its knowledge in the hands of my people over the delicate hands of a power-reaching queen.”
Gwen drew his cloak tighter around himself. “Calimorden is defensible. We have ways of keeping knowledge and relics like the oracle safe.” He fought to keep the edge out of his voice. He was not used to having his authority challenged.
“The queen shall not have hands on the oracle.” Folkvar’s voice was rising. “He has deep secrets. What if she makes him speak those secrets?”
“Why would it matter? Do you not trust Queen Zephyr?”
“A human who sacrifices her own son?” Folkvar boomed.
“Compared to a war chief who devours his victims!” Gwen spat back. “I am heir to that throne and will do what I think best for my kingdom!”
The star smiled at Gwen’s new hope and his courage.
Folkvar stood to his full height and glared down at Gwen. “I am a warrior’s son and will not be commanded by a human princeling! I will not allow you to take the oracle.”
“Make them shut up!” the oracle winced.
The star leapt up and stood between them. She turned her sparkling eyes to Gwen and clasped her hands over her heart.
“Please, hold your temper.” She turned to Folkvar. “I know the agonies you suffer having abandoned your people. You are a great leader among your people and to follow another puts you ever so low. But for the sake of finding the earthling again, follow Gwen. Let us go to the Mirror in peace.”
It took a few breaths for the prince and the norcan to calm themselves enough to sit back down. Both of their strong hands resting on the pommels of their swords was noted by Galis and the elf. They met each other’s eyes and made a silent agreement.
The journey through the snow and ice was never a pleasant or quiet one. The wind continued to howl louder and louder. The star remained bundled up on Folkvar’s back. Gwen had a long pelt of fur he lent to Galis to keep his body warm, which he tied around his shoulders with leather. At first, the under elf walked in pace with Galis, keeping up nicely. But soon his short legs were no match for the snow and he too was hoisted up onto Folkvar’s back.
Soon the howling was too loud and they realized it was not the wind. In the darkness ahead of them loomed the purple eyes of an alpha snow wolf and two sets of blue-eyed followers. Gwen stopped and placed himself between the wolves and the others.
“Folkvar, take the star to safety! Galis and the elf, with me.”
For a terrible moment, Folkvar hesitated after the elf leapt down to Galis’ side. He even unslung his bow, but the star put her hand on his shoulder. With a roar of rage, he turned and galloped up a hill to take her to safety.
The alpha wolf slowly lowered down onto the snow to sit, his eyes still flaring and his teeth still barred. His minions would do the fighting for him. With a deep bark, the others leapt at the warriors.
Gwen dove to the side and summersaulted back up onto his feet just in time to raise his blade to shove aside a dagger-toothed maw. Behind him, the elf was chanting a spell of some kind faster than the prince could catch the words.
Galis caught the full weight of the wolf that had launched at him and sunk into the snow from its force. It immediately began to tear at its victim with long teeth and white claws. The jaws closed down around his forearm, but did not pierce the skin protected by the ornamented metal greaves tied at the wrists. The metal began to collapse and pain cracked through Galis’ bones. With a cry, he angled his massive sword and plunged it into the wolf’s shoulder. He missed his mark, but it caused the animal to reel and leap away.
With a swift, arching slice, Gwen cut his opponent across the face, taking one eye. It only whined once before launching another attack. The wolf circled around him, flicking its tail and watching for an opening. Gwen took his sword in both hands, knowing he’d need it against the massive beast’s weight. Suddenly, the wolf whined and began to claw at his own face as though some little monster were plucking at its eyes. The elf’s spell had caused it confusion.
“Gwen!” the barbarian warned.
The prince turned quickly and a huge open jaw clamped down around his entire shoulder. He was pulled from his feet as the alpha tackled him, cracking his bones. Fueled by a rage only wild dogs know, the alpha whipped his head back and forth, shaking Gwen like a dead rabbit. His sword flew easily out of his hand as blood spattered the snow.
Leaping down, the elf was suddenly torn between the two. Galis had been caught by the other wolf by the ankle and was reaching desperately for his sword that still stuck out of the wolf’s shoulder. Making up his mind, he dashed toward Galis as he commanded the confused wolf to attack its alpha. Seeing the minion wolf charge it, the alpha dropped Gwen to defend itself from the far more dangerous attack of its fellow.
The little elf leaped with all his strength over the last wolf that clutched Galis in its jaws, aimed with his small cross bow, and shot a small black dart right through the base of its skull. The wolf fell dead, his fangs still firmly clamped on the barbarian’s leg.
The alpha, fed up with his confused minion, dashed away into the darkness, leaving a speckled trail of blood.
Knowing Galis had the strength to pry his leg free, the elf ran to the fallen prince and helped him to stand. His shoulder was mangled and would need stitches after a good cleaning.
With the wolves gone, they gathered together to tend the wounds.
“This would make a fine cape for the winter in the mountains,” Galis said, patting the wolf who was still under the elf’s mind magic. It lay between him and Gwen who was being sewn up carefully by the elf’s nimble fingers.
Folkvar was still dissatisfied. “You should have let me help,” he said. “Perhaps you would not have been so hurt.”
Gwen would not be able to lift his sword for some days with the injuries he’d sustained. The elf bound his neatly stitched shoulder and tied a sling around his neck for support. Then he went to Galis, removed his fur boots, and began cleaning his gnawed leg and foot.
A windless silence fell at last. The storm had subsided with the disappearance of the alpha wolf. The star was quiet as she watched the elf work.
“You are different than your kin,” she said in her sweet, quiet voice. “I did not know your kind knew the healing arts. Especially as well as you do.”
The elf scrubbed away the last of the blood from Galis’ foot and began applying healing ointment. Her comment made his cheeks redden slightly. They had been kinder to him than any being ever had. He looked up into Galis’ eyes to apologetically when he touched a particularly tender spot.
Despite the pain, Galis smiled kindly down at the elf. “I’ve had worse. But I’ve never felt gentler hands. You have a gift.”
The under elf finally spoke. “It was a sin among my people. To heal, I mean. If one of our number is wounded, we send them out to die. The concept of healing is foreign and sinful.”
Gwen looked up at this. Now he understood the nature of his meeting the elf. “That’s how we met you,” he said. “You were wounded. Did your people leave you?”
“It was for more than that,” the elf sighed as he worked. “I was a healer a
mong my people. I did not want my kinsfolk to die like they had for so long. They set a trap so I would be wounded and could be cast out. To suffer for my sins.”
Folkvar crossed his arms, a little self-conscious. “It is the same with my people. Not continuing the fight when one is wounded is a sign of rebellion against the war chief. You may as well lay down sword and join the other side.”
A look of honor came over Galis’ face. He looked down at the elf at his feet. “I didn’t know,” he said. “The ways of your people sadden me. My tribe puts only its people first. We know that to survive, we must band together. Brothers, sisters, mentors, fathers, and mothers; our first concern is each other.”
“I wish I was among your people,” he said without looking up.
Galis smiled. “We can be brothers.”
The firelight was reflected perfectly in the elf’s all black eyes. His face took on a strange feature as his white lips parted to reveal all his pointed teeth in a true smile.
“After all, we’re all we have,” he added to include everyone. “We’ll make our own tribe.”
The star giggled and clasped her hands. “Marvelous,” she sighed.
Folkvar, making a mocking smile, shook his head. “What a strange tribe we shall be. How will we ever get along?”
“Remember how your people are not that different,” Gwen said wisely. “And remember what it was about them that you do not like and would change if you could. Choose ways that will make peace with the people in your life.” He touched the golden circle on his brow lightly. “I think I have a new hope at last.”
It was obvious in Folkvar’s and Gwen’s eyes that there was one more question that needed to be sorted out. Something obvious that the others, not of rank among their people, would not think of: every tribe had a leader.
Soon they came to a mountain range that had one narrow path leading through a solid trench. It was as if someone had drug a long sword through the mountains and carved the road. It would have been impossible to get an army through. The snow was gone now and gravel and stone had replaced the ice and cold. Everywhere fog hung low, but the air was somehow still dry and stagnant.
“It’s hard to breathe this air,” Gwen mused as they made their quiet way through the path. “As if it’s old.”
“I do not think it has moved in some time,” the elf put in. “Like the air in the Nether Plane.”
Gwen nodded. He had spent a considerable amount of time in the Nether and had no desire to relive anything like it again.
“The air is stagnant because we near the Mirror,” the oracle said. “The power of it is too much for this world.”
Suddenly, around one bend, they were faced with a flat grey mountain wall. In the wall was a simple wooden door on three metal hinges. The tribe all frowned in confusion and hesitated.
“What are you waiting for? Go in,” the oracle prompted. “I remember this place well. We’ll not get lost.”
“You’ve been here before?” Gwen asked. He pushed the door open. It didn’t even squeak.
“A long, long time ago.” Its normally cheery voice was serious.
Inside was a great stony castle. Stairs led up and down and some were on the walls. A few flights of steps were even on the ceiling as though one could walk upside down on them. Doors and portholes dotted the walls and even the floor. It was a perfect labyrinth.
“You remember?” Folkvar asked in deep skepticism. “How could anyone remember this?”
“Because I made it,” was the tart reply. “Now, oh great prince of humans, follow that set of stairs to the right and go up through the door.”
The instructions were simple and they followed them for many long minutes. But then they became bizarre.
“Walk up that set on the wall and go through the door on the ceiling,” he said.
Everyone was afraid to trust the magic of the labyrinth. The elf was the first to take the strange step. He put his foot on the second step up and pushed his weight onto it. His head spun for a moment before he felt fine and walked all the way up.
“Come on!” he called back down. “It’s not that bad.” A hint of uncharacteristic giddiness was in his voice as if he enjoyed walking up walls. “It looks like you all are on the wall now!”
Many hours later, they arrived at a doorway that was taller than the others had been. Stepping inside, the huge room was dark and empty. The ceiling was vaulted and ornate, but old and decaying. The floor was cracked and littered with pitfalls. In the center of the room where the decay in the ceiling and the cracks began like a great web, was a tall narrow mirror. It was about two arm-lengths wide and the height of five men. Under it was a black pit from whence all the cracks spread out. Looking up, the same could be said of the ceiling. The decay and veiny darkness was coming from the Mirror.
Folkvar walked toward it cautiously. The closer he got to it, the quieter the clacking sound of his hooves got on the floor. He looked hard into the mirror, brave norcan that he was. He had seen himself clearly when he approached the Mirror, but now that he was only a foot away, his form was transparent and faded.
He turned and said, “I cannot see myself,” but his voice was muffled and far away sounding. Like the splashes in the black river had sounded. Distant and more like an echo. He gasped at the sound of his voice and turned back to the mirror. His eye beheld an image there now. Something only he could see. Horror contorted his face as he backed away.
“We couldn’t hear you,” Galis said. “It was like you were disappearing or fading.”
“Yes, as you approached the Mirror, you vanished a little,” the star said.
The oracle sighed in frustration. “It is not for your people. I said you don’t want to touch it. Now listen to me.”
Folkvar stood taller. “I was not afraid, but I saw great horrors.”
“No kidding.” The oracle rolled his eyes.
Gwen began to walk forward. “I’m not afraid either.”
The others held their breath as the prince walked toward the Mirror. His footsteps faded away and his body began to waver like ripples in a pond after tossing a stone. He was speaking, but they could not hear him. The star called to him, begging him to come back, but her voice was distant and muffled to him.
Looking into the Mirror, Prince Gwen of Calimorden saw not himself, but a horrifying reflection. The images before his eyes were not his greatest fear, not his true self, nor the future of himself. He had no future and this is what he saw. He did not exist in that Mirror. He had faded away just as Folkvar had. The oracle was right. This was dangerous. There was no reflection so that could only mean this was not a mirror, but a doorway. Behind him, he could see everyone reflected though. Slowly, he reached out his hand to the Mirror.
“No!” the oracle cried just as the prince’s hand went through the solid surface. The room trembled and began to quake.
Galis ran forward and pulled Gwen back from the Mirror, but not before he too saw the magic of it. His heart pounded as the truth was revealed to him. The room vibrated and shook madly; the arched ceiling was falling and the floor opened more crags.
“It is Umbra!” Galis cried as at last the Mirror released Gwen. The prince screamed and fell backward unconscious into the barbarian’s arms.
From the Mirror, black hands burst forth with shadow claws and tentacles of darkness. They reached out for the warriors, snapping and flicking for a good grasp of any of them. In the center of the Mirror glowed two evil red eyes. The Great Umbra was watching!
The star faced the mirror as the others dashed past her, calling for her. She gnashed her teeth in concentration and threw her hands out in front of her. From her body burst out pure starlight. The ends of her hair shone like the moon and her skin glowed with the energy and might of a white star untouched by the corruption. With a shriek, the grasping hands of Umbra were pushed back for a short moment into the Mirror.
Somehow, the journey out of the labyrinth took only minutes as they dashed screaming through the co
llapsing structures. Gwen had awakened and led the tribe out. When they surged through the exit that should have been the same wooden door they entered by, they found themselves in the prairie fields surrounding Calimorden.
The tribe collapsed onto the ground after dashing away from the mountains. After several moments of panting and gasping while clutching hearts, the star looked up.
“Where is Gwen?” Her voice was panicked.
Galis glanced around, panicking as well. “I had him in my arms!”
All eyes searched the now deserted prairie for several quiet minutes.
Just then, a massive shadow announced the hunting dive of a huge winged beast. It was human in shape, but far larger than any they had ever seen. Its skin was a midnight blue and seemed to be burning in the sun. Huge black horns rose from its head in a formidable arch over its brow. Its double-bent legs and arms were thick with muscle. A bifurcated tail twitched behind it below a pair of massive bat-like wings.
With a roar like a lion, it dove again and this time snatched up the star, who screamed as the beast rose with her in its claws.
“Shoot it!” Galis cried.
Folkvar aimed carefully with his norcan bow and fired. The beast caught the arrow and broke it in half with one hand. In the blink of an eye, it vanished into the shade of the mountains without attacking.
“Do you think…?” But the elf couldn’t finish his fearful thought.
“I wonder what the prince tastes like,” the oracle said unabashedly.
Galis’s heart fell as he watched the skies. “I didn’t even hear it,” he whispered. “I’ve failed as a hunter and protector!”
The elf spoke up for him. “No one appointed you protector of the prince,” he said. “We are all valuable to the earthling.” He thought back a moment. The earthling had taken the prince’s punishment though. She owed a debt to the Nether for his soul. Just like she did for his. Perhaps Gwen was special to her. He had been special to them all. For the elf, he was the one person who had defended him since Clare had released them both from the Nether. His heart ached at the thought of Gwen being killed by that beast.
Revary Page 15
