by R. E. Fisher
For his part, Niloy began sneaking into various parts of the keep, and stole several cheeses, hardtack, nuts, and food that would last for a while, along with some water skins with fresh water. Odds were that the water in that underground lake wasn’t safe to drink; it was either salt water or at least brackish. And even if it wasn’t brackish, Dmitri made it clear that he wasn’t going to drink it, since they had other options. As the days went by, they inched closer to having everything they needed. All that was left to do was to find the time to get the oars made, and they would be able to leave. They waited a couple evenings before starting that to see if they had aroused anyone’s suspicions, and it appeared to them that they hadn’t.
Niloy watched as Dmitri led them down the darkened corridors, the torchlight highlighting the algae that had grown on the walls over time. He also noticed that the closer they were to leaving, the less Dmitri was insulting him, and that he would sometimes relax in his presence. That was a comfort to Niloy. He knew that he wasn’t likable, and that there had been many in his past who had tried to kill him.
He remembered one particular human who had told him that he was crazy and that pigs had more personality than Niloy. Or how Niloy liked to speak of things that he thought Niloy had made up or had no real knowledge of. That human had miscalculated the shelfling, and when he was found dead in his own bed, the village had hired sellswords to track him down; he had managed to evade them. Niloy had continued to make his living as an assassin for hire. For someone of his small stature to endeavor to succeed in that line of work was remarkable. He had been successful enough at it to gain the attention of Eod, who had hired him to train the twins, and he did. Eod had invited him to the keep and had offered him sums of gold that he would otherwise have had to kill for to earn. All had gone well until it became apparent that the skills that the twins exhibited far exceeded his own abilities, and he hadn’t been able to train them further, so Eod had grown frustrated and angry.
It was then that Niloy had learned that invoking the wrath of a mage was dangerous. Eod had felt that the twins’ progression in the art of murder wasn’t going to be able provide for his needs, even as formidable as they were. Eod wanted the men to be the best at what they did, vowing to spare no expense to ensure that they were. He had gone to the assassins’ guild to find Niloy’s replacement. During that visit, he had learned that Niloy wasn’t sanctioned by the guild to present himself as he had, and that had infuriated Eod. The shelfling knew that what he had taught the twins was sound in practice and advice, but Eod didn’t. Upon returning to the keep, he had stripped Niloy of the wealth he had been given, taking all of his belongings and imprisoning him in the dungeons for years, directing the twins to practice their interrogative arts on him.
Niloy had always been unbalanced to a small extent, and though his courage in the face of the daily torture had been admirable, it hadn’t been enough to prevent him from slipping into the same madness that gripped his newfound companion. They shared a need to kill, both because of past pain and memories.
As they arrived at the dock and began to remove the timbers they had decided to use as oars, Niloy thought how about easy it was going to be to rid himself of Dmitri once he was of no further use.
Chapter 21
“Alas, each of my brothers and sisters lie to you!”
(F.Ph.1.1 - Book of Fire, Tenets of Phul, Chapter 1, Verse 1)
Telerex struggled on the strong, cold breeze as it blew toward them from the mountains he could see ahead. They looked closer than they were because of their towering height. He replayed Tetra’s directive in his mind. She had asked—no, she had commanded, he thought as he corrected himself—that he get them to Noli Deron as fast as possible. That meant flying above the Rohrfrost Mountains. It was going to be cold, but he knew he could weather it; was Tetra going to be able to? As surly as her behavior had become over the last few days, he was beginning not to care as much as he once had. She had become withdrawn since leaving the mage’s keep, and when she did have something to say, it was curt and blunt or she was mumbling to herself. She didn’t think he’d heard her, but he had. She’d mumble something about being hungry or thirsty or tired, but when he would offer to land, she would refuse him, anxious to stay on their journey.
Oh, to hells with it, he thought, as she hadn’t offered him any explanation.
“Mistress, why do we travel to Noli Deron?” he asked.
“We seek another of your kind. That dragon also hunts this outworlder. Eod says that he was in Noli Deron and we need to find him, and find out why. The dragon will lead us to him. Either way, we will find one or both. Anything else you need to know?” Tetra finished, apparently irritated by his petulance.
Her tone was not lost on the ancient dragon, but he kept silent, confused as he contemplated her sudden changes toward him.
Tetra rubbed her throat. Never in her life had she been so thirsty before. No matter how much she drank, she could not quench it. She felt like there were ants crawling under her skin, and her conversations with Lavalor were short and angry. She knew something about her had changed. Did the blow to the back of my head do it? she thought.
No, your incessant doubts are doing it! Lavalor answered.
I told you to stay out of my head!
It’s one and the same now, or haven’t you noticed?
Why is this happening? Tetra demanded of him.
I don’t know!
I can’t save this world if I can’t think! she muttered, rubbing her forehead.
That comment gave Lavalor pause for thought. What if she can’t? he wondered to himself as quietly as he could, hoping she couldn’t hear him. It was as if they could sometimes keep their thoughts separate, while at other times they couldn’t. He needed to know why, but the only thing he could come up with was that perhaps the mage had had someone send some magic their way while they were questioning him. Neither he nor Tetra had felt or noticed anything. Could the magic of the young races have grown that insidious over the centuries? he wondered.
Well, we’d better find out before we get to the city, Tetra exclaimed, interrupting his thoughts.
Both had become so engrossed with their thoughts of magic, thirst, and hunger that neither saw the threat that Telerex spied. The dragon watched as what appeared to be a dark mass of misshapen birds approached them from the mountain range ahead. He watched, counting. He realized that their size was near that of a small human, and they were harpies. He had read of them, and he had heard at a long-ago dinner table that when they traveled in a murder, they descended upon any beast, ripping the flesh from its bones and consuming it all in a feeding orgy. They repeated the process until each of them was satiated; once they were, they would each return to their individual dwellings, conducting their dark magic until the next murder formed.
“Mistress! A murder of harpies!” he shouted as he turned away from them and dove downward to avoid several of the half-bird, half-woman beings that had closed the distance to attack them.
Telerex’s shout and sudden movement, along with the painful shrieking of the beasts, all roused Tetra from her thoughts. She drew Lavalor from his scabbard and began swinging at each of the harpies as they took turns diving in to attack her. Their speed and cunning enabled them to avoid her blade as she tried to fight them off. Tetra’s armor protected much of her, but she was not wearing her gloves, unable to retrieve them from the pack that she had put them in. She had not been expecting a mid-air assault by these things—or anything else, for that matter—as Telerex was escorting her. Who would attack a dragon? she had thought.
It was then that two of the harpies dove in from each side of her, matching the dragon’s speed as he continued to dive. The harpies used their wings to guide themselves closer to her. They got near enough to her, but one overshot her, bumping into the other—but not hard enough to push her off her path. Now the two harpies were side by side over Tetra’s left shoulder, and each began lashing out at her with their beaks and claws, a
ttacking her face, eyes, and exposed flesh. One of them even managed to slice her scalp open with its claws as her shrieks began causing Tetra to become dizzy, agony filling her ears. Angered and afraid, Tetra reached out with her left arm, extended herself upward from Telerex’s shoulders as much as she could, and drove her blade up and to her left, driving the tip of Lavalor deep into one of the monsters’ chests between its breasts. It was another painful lesson for Tetra as well. As her blade struck its target, one of the remaining harpies could stretch forward enough to enable it to lock its teeth onto Tetra’s left hand.
With a howl of agony as the blade entered her chest, the harpy began flapping her graying wings to escape the blade but was unable to. No matter how hard she struggled, she could not. However, her struggles were strong enough to yank Tetra’s arm upward, almost ripping the blade from her grasp.
The speed of their dive along with the harpy’s inability to escape the blade resulted in feathers being ripped from the wounded harpy’s flesh by the force of the wind. But that was the least of her pain; the beast wailed its death knell as it felt its life and magic being drained. The harpy’s dying shrieks caused both Tetra and Telerex even more pain.
The beast was dying, so Tetra tried to pull her sword from its body—yet the blade could not be withdrawn. Thinking that perhaps it was lodged in bone or between its ribs, she twisted the blade, still with no effect. Tetra struggled to free both the blade and her other hand from the mouth of the harpy.
Lavalor realized the moment his body had penetrated the harpy that something was amiss. The harpy’s magic had begun welling into him, re-enforcing him, as when he had feasted on the souls of the dead so long ago in Asmordia. He watched as Tetra struggled to remove the blade from the beast but could not, and then he watched as the harpy began to die; with each moment of her passing he could feel his magic growing. But because Tetra wielded him, he could not escape her grasp. Not because he did not want to; he wanted to kill and maim any that would attack them, but he couldn’t. Tetra was his master in that moment, and he must succumb to her will in this battle, no matter what his desire was.
Tetra was still unable to her tear her hand or sword free to strike either of her attackers, so she frantically began trying to pull her arm closer to her body. She was unable to because the beast had other intentions for her flesh; it tried to pull her from the dragon’s back by grabbing her arm, sinking her teeth in, and pulling at her while trying to fall away from the dragon’s body.
Telerex was completely unaware of what was happening upon his shoulders since there were tens of harpies chasing him and diving toward his face and eyes as well as his much softer underbelly. He could feel several wounds that the harpies had caused around his eyes and the warmth of his blood flowing down along his jaw below his eyes. The harpies were trying to blind him. He could tell from their manner of attack that they had brought down his kind before. His instincts told him to begin spiraling his body as he dove, but he was afraid that he would end up throwing Tetra from his back, so he stopped himself. Instead he extended his right wing, forcing a quick change in their fall; though it moved him away from several of the harpies, it also moved him closer to the others that had been pursuing them on his left. The murder of harpies began shrieking, each of them, and their haunted cries were filled with sadness, anger, fear, and pain. Each of their voices caused excruciating pain within him. He had never met beasts with such abilities. He turned his head to the side and opened his throat, readying himself to exhale death upon them; just as his teeth opened, they began to scatter away, understanding what it was that they were fighting. Still, he expelled a white-hot gout of flame toward the remaining harpies. The feathers of three that had been unable to escape or were too intent on wounding him burst into flames, and they began to fall toward the ground uncontrollably. Their shrieks, too, increased in both volume and anger as they realized their impending doom. Telerex felt as though his head would explode from their angry shouts, yet he was unable to do anything else.
“Mistress! Hang on!” he shouted as he brought his wing back toward his body; he began spinning and turning his undulating body toward the earth, trying to increase his speed. Once he had done so, he extended both wings; the beasts that did not crash into his massive body and fall away continued tumbling past him. Even the beast that had managed to attach herself to Tetra was forced to continue falling. Unaware that the sudden change was coming, the harpy was unable to adjust its fall, and it ripped a large chunk of flesh from the Elfaheen’s hand. The pain from it caused her to yell out in agony. The harpy that Tetra had stabbed was finally ripped from it, releasing Lavalor from its fatal wound. The sudden change had also nearly thrown Tetra from the dragon’s shoulders, but she had managed to reach out and grab one of the huge backpack straps with her wounded hand and stay atop him.
Telerex spat another gout of flame at their enemies, catching two more afire. He looked down and saw the mass of monsters that were recovering below them. There were still more than three dozen of them remaining, but he had gained valuable space from them.
He began flapping his wings, attempting to regain altitude, thinking that perhaps the cold would slow them down. He was unsure whether he would be able to get high enough before they could gather and attack again. If they were lucky, the cold might dissuade them from continuing their pursuit.
Lavalor saw them as well. Filled with more magic than he had felt in a long time, he exclaimed to Tetra, I can cast a spell if you but release me! as he began his spell casting toward the harpies.
Not understanding his exclamation but remembering the events at the Mad Mage’s keep, Tetra let go of the pommel, expecting him to attack the harpies as he had done with the poor young lad and the mage.
Lavalor believed he was launching himself at the feathery beasts, unaware that he was but falling toward them. Unable to think of anything else, he called out a creation spell from long ago when had created the winged Perildin. It was a winged demon that could fight the harpies in their own environment, in flight. He cast the spell as he closed in on them and watched as the magic erupted from him in a chaotically concussive, electrical manner. He mentally reached out to speak to the being he thought he was creating and shouted Protect us! before it could form.
Black currents of electricity filled the air before finally forming into seven tight balls that shot off toward the murder of harpies.
Lavalor must have had a different spell in mind, he thought. This spell was nothing like he had expected or remembered. He tried to adjust his flight and return to Tetra but soon realized he was falling, unable to return to her. The result of his spell would go unseen by him as he fell, blade first, through the mass of harpies toward the ground below.
Instead of creating the one demon that Lavalor intended, the balls of black energy from his spell scattered and struck seven of the harpies, igniting each of them in black flames. The shrieking that Tetra and Telerex had suffered through earlier was nothing like the wails that erupted from the now perverted throats of the seven flaming harpies. Their feathers were being seared into their flesh, creating an acrid smell of burnt feathers and sulfur. The stench filled the air around them, causing panicked fear in the others that had once been their kind. Their skin was burnt black, charred and wrinkled, oozing of blood and pus. The teeth that had once filled their mouths became fangs, each of them as sharp as a dagger. Their wings, now featherless but filled with a leathery membrane, kept them aloft. Their lower bodies that had once appeared birdlike became more lizard-like, the seared feathers making their flesh look like it was covered with feathered scales, and the claws that had been on their feet became talons. Their arms and chests that had once appeared human were now scarred, but their flesh had been hardened in their transition to the point that it was now like armor. But it was their eyes, the yellow birdlike eyes of the harpy that remained, staring out of the blackened flesh that surrounded them. They were now filled with even greater hate and anger while also vacant of the other
almost human emotions they once had.
These cursed seven had only thought they knew of hate and anger; now they personified it. They attacked the remaining harpies, ripping them from the sky and letting them fall to the ground below in bloody pieces. As the harpies scattered in fear, the misshapen perildins gave chase.
The few that had turned to chase after their original prey had no idea of the fury that they escaped. They were only intent on catching the dragon and its unarmed rider. The harpies screamed with delight as they resumed the chase.
Chapter 22
“Take what thy will, when thy will, how thy will, because it shall belong to thee!”
(F.Uz., 1.13 - Book of Fire, Tenets of Uziel, Chapter 1, Verse 13)
Helor woke to the sound of light footsteps creeping near their darkened camp. He cursed silently as he realized the shelfling had let the fire nearly die out and was snoring loudly, curled up in his bedroll. With as little movement as possible, he nudged Jehosaa, who awoke immediately. Winston kept snoring loudly, and Ollie continued sleeping fitfully. The two men pushed their blankets aside and slowly moved to a kneeling position as they attempted to determine where—and what—the noise had come from. In the waning light of their campfire, they saw that a very large, furry beast had wandered into their camp.
It was sniffing the tree where they had hung their rations to keep them away from any wildlife. Both them aware that food was what usually drew animals into a camp.
Jehosaa gently kicked Ollie, who awoke when he saw the man standing above him with his sword drawn, looking across the campsite. He grabbed his mace and stood, his mouth going dry as he saw the monster that had entered their camp. As if just noticing them, the beast glanced briefly in their direction and began sniffing the air, rising onto its haunches. It growled slightly as it tried to determine what it smelled. It stood on its hind legs in the shadows, returning its attention to the food that hung above it as it began clawing at the tree. Its razor-sharp claws sliced through the bark as it attempted to dig them in enough to climb the tree.
