Rush ducked under a pair of vines trying to grab him and jumped over another that sought his legs. Drawing his elven shortsword, he attempted to slice into one of the vines threatening him but it dodged away before he could land his strike. It was almost as if the vines had eyes on them, for they unerringly reached straight toward him and evaded all attempts to hit them. Even his chameleon ability was useless against this magical creature.
Dodging another vine trying to choke him, Dart scrambled up the steps behind Drath. He shouted at Rush to follow, but his cousin must not have heard him, so engaged was he in not being caught up by one of the arm-thick vines. The elven archer could see a swarm of vines on the steps below Rush, and the hissing issued from its writhing mass. He could see more of the leathery tendrils crawling up the walls and steps towards them and knew that if his idiot kinsman didn’t move soon he’d be overwhelmed.
“Rush, you leaf-brained fool! Get out of there! There are too many to fight!” But it was no use, Rush either didn’t hear him or didn’t care. He seemed bent on defeating the vines himself.
At that moment one of the green arms struck Rush’s side. He staggered into the wall, and barely ducked in time to avoid having his skull crushed by another strike. A thinner vine caught his ankles and wrapped around them, tripping him. The only thing he could see when he fell was the emptiness of the tower at the edge of the stairwell, and he hoped the ground was hard enough to kill him on impact. But he didn’t plummet over the side. Rather, he landed with only the top half of his body hanging over the edge. The rest was held tightly by the vines crawling up his legs.
Wriggling did no good, as the vines only tightened their grip. When they reached his waist, the elven thief began to panic. He’d dropped both his sword and his dagger when he’d landed, so he began beating on the vines with his fists. That didn’t help, either, and the elf could hear laughter echoing behind the hissing.
Drath reached Rush just ahead of Dart, and they began kicking at the vines to release him. They wrapped the elf up too tightly for them to risk sword strokes, but no matter how hard they hit or kicked the vines they would not let go of him. They could see Rush beginning to turn blue from the vines constricting his chest, and when the vines lashed out toward them they despaired of rescuing him.
Jumping over a mossy arm seeking to trip him, Drath stepped toward the wall and raised his sword. If he couldn’t cut the vines close to Rush, he’d move a little farther down. Screaming in anger, he brought his weapon down with all his might. He never heard Merdel’s warning cry.
Merdel had been analyzing the nature of this creature and was disturbed at what he’d found. The spells giving it life were powerful, too powerful for him to counteract them in his weakened state. It had taken so much effort to neutralize the wards on the doors that he had little strength left for a strong spell. But he was able to learn quite a bit about this creature, like that they should avoid cutting it at all costs.
“Drath, no!” Merdel raised his hands up to forestall the tall man’s action. “Don’t cut it! It’s poisonous!”
Too late. Drath’s sword had already come down and severed the thickest of the vines holding Rush.
At once, a harsh screaming erupted in the stairwell. All of the companions covered their ears to block out the noise, but it did little good. Drath staggered back from the creature and looked down to see a noxious green gas emitting from the vine he’d cut. Almost immediately he began coughing, and his lungs felt on fire. What had he done?
Dart fought through the odious gas to grab hold of his cousin as the green stuff coming from the severed vine became thicker. His hands found Rush barely moving but alive, with the vines that held him quivering as if they felt the pain of the cut. He pulled at the vines confining Rush, but his head began to swim and his vision blurred. He coughed several times before he listed over and fell on his side. The world became obscured by the smelly green smoke, and suddenly all he wanted to do was sleep.
Drath fell back against the wall, overcome by the desire to lay down and rest. His eyelids grew heavy, and he could barely breathe. The hellish screaming and hissing coming from the mass of vines a few feet below him drifted away, and he soon found himself in an island of peaceful silence. It would be a nice place to rest his weary bones for a while.
Merdel saw the green smoke envelop his friends and could smell the taint of magic on it. Even from where he was, he began to feel the effects of the poison. His eyes wanted to close, and at the same time his chest constricted with pain. It felt like the gas would burn his lungs away to nothing.
Shaking his head in an effort to clear it, and only partially succeeding, Merdel pulled at his magic to save them. It felt like he had to reach through walls of thickened air to reach his spell, and when he finally did, he wondered if he could even cast it. It had taken a tremendous effort just to find the right one. He prayed the Great God would lend him the strength he needed.
Gritting his teeth, the mage released the spell amidst a barrage of pain. His head felt like it would explode, and his eyes bulged as the wind he’d called up finally began to blow. His vision swam, and he lurched to the side so much he had to catch hold of the wall to keep from falling. He concentrated on adding strength to the wind and nearly passed out when the magical breeze doubled in force.
Drath’s eyelids fluttered open as a breeze caressed his face. He could still smell that awful gas that promised peace, but at the same time he realized what kind of peace it offered. He tried to stand upright but couldn’t seem to find the floor. His legs felt numb from the knee down, and the steps kept avoiding his feet. When the breeze became a powerful wind, the tall man’s vision cleared enough for him to see that he was actually on his feet. However, it wasn’t his legs that held him up; it was the vines wrapping him from the chest down.
Dart sat up long enough to vomit. His stomach lurched and heaved at the gas assaulting his heightened senses. Just as soon as he’d wiped his mouth, he vomited again, and reminded himself to apologize to Rush later. Finally his stomach stopped rebelling against the noxious green smoke after a sudden wind carried it away. Struggling to his knees, he crawled closer to his cousin, who thankfully began to move a little. The brown-haired elf helped Rush remove the vines that, though still active, seemed no longer interested in smothering him.
Merdel smiled as his strength returned but grimaced when he saw his friends’ predicament. They were slowly escaping the vine creature’s mossy clutches, but he could see the mass of vines below them swarming together in preparation for another assault. They couldn’t fight the thing with swords unless they wanted to endure the same thing over and over again. His wind still blew the fumes away, but he knew it would soon die. And the gas still issued from the vine Drath had cut. Merdel searched his mind for a simple spell that would save them but found precious few that he doubted would harm the magical beast. Unless…
Gritting his teeth, the bearded wizard staggered down a few steps, dizzy with weakness. Even if he succeeding in defeating this creature, he wouldn’t have strength left to even swear at Elak. But that didn’t matter; he had to save his friends.
Merdel stumbled and nearly fell when he reached where his companions now stood on the steps, but Drath caught him and held him up. Merdel could see the tall man was tired and in pain, but he acknowledged the wizard’s aid with a warm smile and a nod anyway. Dart had Rush’s left arm wrapped around his shoulders and clearly struggled under his cousin’s weight. He fell to his knees when he bent to retrieve his kinsman’s shortsword but pushed himself to his feet before Drath could move to help him. He came to stand by the others just as Merdel called upon his magic one more time.
The only thing Merdel saw when he cast the sparks away from his hands was a bright flash of orange light. Then darkness consumed him. The only sounds he heard before all senses left him were horrid screams and hisses as flames engulfed Elak’s magical guardian.
* * *
Merdel awoke to someone slapping him and call
ing his name. He tried to open his eyes to let whoever it was hitting him know he didn’t need to keep smacking him. But unfortunately his lids wouldn’t respond to his orders, and the idiot slapping him kept on merrily with his task. He then tried to grunt, groan, or make some awake-sounding noise, but all that came out was a strangled gasp. That was apparently not enough to convince the demon hitting him that he was awake, and instead it made him slap him harder. The fool must think his inability to breathe meant he was slipping away again.
Finally, after enduring an eternity of face-slapping and shouting, Merdel managed to raise his right hand high enough to grip the throat of his tormentor. He heard a satisfying gurgle and forced a grin onto his pain-wracked face, but when hands gripped his to pull it away he couldn’t maintain his hold. He let them subdue him and determined once he was better to make whoever had tortured him pay dearly.
“Merdel! You’re awake!” Merdel wondered what event had led the genius near him to figure that out. He couldn’t immediately identify the voice, as his ears didn’t seem to work properly. The sounds he heard were muffled and distant, as if he had cotton stuffed in his ears and the speaker stood yards away. “I thought we’d lost you.” Now Merdel knew who’d been hitting him and calling his name and saying such idiotic things.
“Of course I’m awake, Drath. What gave you that idea?”
Drath smiled in spite of the wizard’s sarcasm. “It’s good to see you, too.”
Merdel grimaced. “I’d say that, too, but I can’t seem to open my eyes.” He raised shaking hands to his face and rubbed at his eyes, feeling the crust that had sealed them shut break painfully away. He’d exhausted himself casting spells before but never this badly. When his eyes could open, he saw that Drath leaned over him rather closely, with Rush and Dart standing nervously behind the tall man. They looked just as much at the wizard as they did their surroundings, though Rush seemed more apprehensive than usual. It was then Merdel realized he had illumination enough to see by, and wondered what could be causing it. Surely his spell had worn off by now.
Drath helped Merdel to a sitting position and steadied him while he wobbled back and forth. When he didn’t pass out again, Drath assisted the bearded wizard to his feet.
Merdel looked around and saw the remains of the vine guardian burning several yards away. A noxious black smoke issued from the flames, but other than making breathing difficult, it didn’t seem to cause them any harm. He could see more flames lighting up the stairwell farther below. “How long was I out?” It couldn’t have been too long if the creature still burned, though he felt like he’d been out for weeks.
Drath smiled again. He seemed unusually happy about something. “Not long. Only a few minutes.”
Merdel grunted. “Feels more like a few years. What happened while I was out?”
Drath shrugged. “Nothing, really. The creature screamed and hissed and writhed until the flames consumed it, then went quiet. I’ve spent the last several minutes trying to wake you up. Your breathing was extremely shallow and your face was pale. I thought you were going to die.”
“So did I. But more from you hitting me than overuse of magic.” He tried to look crossly at the tall man but was too tired.
Drath raised his hands defensively. “It wasn’t me. Rush was the one slapping you. I was helping Dart tie off his bandages while he revived you. Some gratitude you showed! You almost strangled him.”
“And well I should have. I’ll probably have bruises for weeks from him hitting me so hard.”
“I didn’t hit you that hard. You’re just so old it hurt worse.” Rush quickly danced back a couple of steps after saying that, though Merdel was too tired to retaliate. But the mage didn’t mind; he’d get back at the elf soon enough.
Merdel looked around again, feeling his strength slowly return. “Now what?”
Drath motioned with his head toward the door at the top of the stairs behind him. “I think we should complete our mission. If they didn’t know where we were before, they surely know by now.”
Merdel nodded. “I agree.” He followed Drath up the steps, unsure whether he would have the strength to do anything but determined to try.
The room was perhaps twenty-five feet in circumference. It was perfectly round, and boards covered all but one of the ten windows around the walls. The one partly covered window revealed fading daylight outside. It had taken them quite a while to negotiate the tower, and he wondered just what time it was. It couldn’t be too late, for they’d had no word from Thorne or Vaun. Surely if the youth had been killed, Thorne would’ve tracked them down. And he certainly would have known immediately if Vaun had somehow managed to kill Elak.
Thoughts of his comrades aside for now, Merdel concentrated on what lay ahead. This room was colder than the rest of the tower, though they still couldn’t see their breath in the dying light of the burning vine guardian and the light from the window. Merdel would’ve created another magical flame so they could see better but wanted to conserve what little energy he had left for destroying the stone and confronting Elak.
In the center of the chamber sat a pedestal with a glass case resting on top. The case glowed warmly in the light of something inside it, and Merdel’s breathing stopped as he stepped hesitantly into the room. Just a few paces from him lay one of the most powerful magical objects in existence.
“Let’s get this over with.” Drath broke the silence and released everyone from a strange paralysis.
“Aye, let’s finish it.” Merdel walked boldly up to the pedestal, defiant of the slowing spell Elak had placed on the room. It was an effective tool for driving away the merely curious, but determination overcame it rather easily. Merdel gazed into the case and admired the small stone resting inside, noticing in particular the thin but deep blue vein running through this ordinary-looking grey stone. “The Stone of the North.” He had an intense vision of using it himself and had to slam down hard on a sudden desire for power. Destroying this stone and the others was the only way to save his world.
Drath came up behind the wizard and peered over his shoulder. “What’d you say?”
“That’s its name. Tholar named all the stones after each of the four directions. North, south, east, west. The fifth one is for the center and is the most powerful. When aligned with each other and used properly, these stones can do many things, including destroy worlds.”
“Oh.” Drath sounded as he always did, as if he felt all of this magical stuff was far beyond him.
Merdel scanned the otherwise empty room. “I didn’t think he’d keep them all together. The others are most likely scattered all over and well guarded like this one. It seems we won’t be able to kill Elak until he tells us where they are.” He studied the glass case, searching for the spells Elak had placed on it.
After several minutes, he gasped in surprise. “Fire and ice! He didn’t ward this thing at all. He just set it up here. In fact, there’s no magic in this entire room, except for the stone.” He frowned. “Maybe he can’t place any wards near the stone because of the way it manipulates magic. I don’t know. I’m just glad he still weaves his protective spells the same way. He’s forever been a creature of habit.” He chuckled. “I guess my old friend hasn’t changed quite as much as I thought.”
Drath, like the elves, shifted about with anxiety. “What now?” Surely someone would eventually enter the tower now that the guardian was dead.
Looking over at Drath, Merdel shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t figured out how to use Gwyndar’s Wand yet.”
Drath’s face darkened. “What? You mean to tell me I’ve traveled over half the world, been chased by hundreds of men all bent on carving me up, attacked almost every day, poisoned by a Chattul and some vine thing I don’t even want to think about that also almost strangled me, and dealt with sore feet for weeks now, and you have no idea how to make it all stop? You’ve got to be kidding, Merdel! Because if you aren’t, I’m going to cut your fire-brained head off.” The tall man even made
to draw his sword to show he was serious.
“Calm down, Drath.” Merdel held up his hands and took a step back. “When I say I don’t know how to use the wand, I mean I’m not sure about what Lymon’s parchment tells me. What it says doesn’t make any sense.”
Drath didn’t take his hand off his sword hilt. “What’s it say?” He mumbled that if Merdel couldn’t figure out how to use the fire-cursed wand, then he surely would. Or he’d at least kill the Mahalian spell-flinger for getting him into this mess in the first place.
Merdel sighed. “It just says to touch the stone with the wand. Then the energy captured by the stone will be released in a controlled burst back into the barriers. There are no incantations, no gestures, nothing. All I have to do is touch the wand to the stone, and everything will be fine.”
Drath gaped. “So do it, you wind-blinded fool! What’re you waiting for?”
“Yes, Merdel my friend, what are you waiting for?”
Everyone froze at the words that seemed to come from all around them. It was a low, menacing voice, and it echoed briefly before it died away.
“Go on, old friend. Do it. Listen to Drath. Destroy the greatest tool of magic ever made. Rid yourself of any possibility that you could use it for your own purposes.”
Merdel whirled, trying to locate where the voice came from. He knew it was Elak; he recognized the vile man’s mocking tone. But he could see him nowhere. He had to be in the room, for he didn’t detect any signs of magic. Only the stone’s aura showed itself to his magic-attuned eyes.
Elak chuckled wickedly. “Go on, Merdel. Destroy the stone. It’s what you’ve worked so hard to do. Give up your chance to use it. Deny your hunger for power. It’s not worth the risk to the rest of the world. Go on. Destroy your one chance at greatness.”
* * *
The voice moved as it spoke. Drath and the elves kept turning in circles trying to locate it. Dart searched with his gifted eyes but could see nothing in the magical darkness. His ears couldn’t pinpoint from where the Dark Wizard spoke, either. Frustrated, Dart turned in several more useless circles before becoming acutely aware of a pungent smell. He hadn’t noticed it before because the residues from the vine guardian still clung to his nostrils. Now, however, he smelled something he could only identify as evil. Powerful evil, strangely coupled with what smelled like fear, or at least apprehension. It choked him it was so strong, and he wished suddenly he could flee down the steps and escape the horrible smell.
The Bonding (The Song and the Rhythm) Page 49
