The Bonding (The Song and the Rhythm)

by Brian C. Hager

  Rush had drawn his curved shortsword and his longest dagger and rotated slowly in a crouch, ready to spring at the first thing recognizable as someone other than his companions. He’d probably be incinerated in midair, but he didn’t care. He wanted Elak dead. He also glanced at the wand in Merdel’s hand, noticing the slack way the wizard held it.

  * * *

  Drath glanced at Merdel’s face and became suddenly worried. The mage’s black eyes were wide open but unfocused. His lower jaw hung open, and his grip was so relaxed the tall man thought he’d drop the wand any time now. He seemed to be actually considering Elak’s words, as if they were thoughts that had already invaded his mind.

  Drath had always trusted Merdel. He knew the wizard sought to become more and more powerful but had never done so at the expense of others. His commitment to the Great God’s required path for His followers had always kept the bearded mage in line. Surely he wouldn’t let an evil man like Elak make him forget his purpose in life. Surely he’d see reason and do what was right. Wouldn’t he? But from the wizard’s expression, Drath doubted for the first time Merdel’s ability to act reasonably.

  From his shadowed hideaway, Elak taunted, “That’s it, Merdel, consider what you’re about to do. You’re about to destroy the one tool that could give us mastery over all things. We could learn so much about the world with this one stone, could accomplish things with magic never before seen by man. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted? Don’t you want to feel the joy of absolute power!”

  To Drath, Elak sounded insane. He was obviously obsessed with his power and didn’t care what effect his actions had on others. He must be stopped, but the one man who could do so looked like he actually considered joining Elak’s mission of destruction. Drath choked on the sudden thought that, if necessary, he’d kill both wizards.

  * * *

  Dart could almost tell where Elak stood, but the smell of evil was so pervasive it seemed to come from everywhere. It was strongest on the far side of the chamber from him, near a shadowed spot he was convinced was an alcove. Had Elak been there all this time? Had he just arrived by use of magic? He wasn’t sure, and he really didn’t care. What mattered was stopping him. And Merdel, if need be.

  Rush glanced over at his cousin and saw Dart sign to him. He squinted in the faint light of the stone’s glow, and it took a long moment for him to decipher what Dart tried to say. Grinning when he’d gotten the message, he focused his thoughts and promptly faded from sight.

  * * *

  “C’mon, Merdel. Think about it. You and I working together again. Just like old times. We would be able to accomplish those things we dreamed about in our youth. Remember?”

  Drath couldn’t believe it, but Merdel actually nodded. The stone-minded idiot was considering Elak’s words! This couldn’t be! Merdel could become as much an enemy as Elak already was.

  Drath didn’t know what to do. He could either punch Merdel in an effort to awaken him from whatever daze he was in, or he could welcome death by attacking the spot where he thought Elak stood. Looking around, he realized Rush had vanished, and Dart held something in a tight fist. Those elves were up to something, and if he knew them the way he knew them, he’d better prepare himself for a fight, or a fast getaway.

  Watching Merdel, Drath backed slowly towards the doorway where Dart stood. He let go of his sword hilt so he could grab Merdel if something happened. Then again, he wasn’t sure the bearded mage was worth saving now.

  * * *

  “Join me, my friend. And we’ll rid the world of those who oppose us. We’ll bring a new era to all worlds. We can rule them all together.” Elak could see the warring thoughts behind Merdel’s eyes and knew he almost had him. Just a few more minutes, and these powerless fools would be…What was that?

  A blur moved up to Merdel, and when it left, that infernal wand was gone. Elak searched desperately around the room but saw only Merdel and his two companions. Wait…two companions? Where was the other elf? Then Elak noticed something worse. The dark-haired one had his arm cocked back, looking ready to throw an object he had clenched in his fist.

  Elak screamed and lunged forward. He sped into the light of the Stone of the North but was too late to stop the object—was that a money pouch?—from striking the case protecting his stone. As he rushed to save his prize, the glass shattered, and shards flew in all directions, causing him to throw his hands up in front of his face. Glass sliced into his arms and hands, and a few slivers found their way to his face.

  Elak screamed in fury, ignoring the pain and the blood pouring from his cheeks. Enraged, he whirled on the elf who’d thrown the pouch, ready to melt him to a puddle of quivering jelly. Out of the corner of his eye, however, the other elf suddenly appeared. And he stood not a foot from the stone!

  Turning toward him now, Elak called up his magic. He had no chance to cast it, though, as the blond elf reached out with that cursed wand and tapped the stone resting on the pedestal.

  23

  OF A SUDDEN, A TINKLING SOUNDED IN THE AIR, like a thousand shards of glass falling on the ground all at once. It froze everyone in the room and was so high-pitched it caused them all to cover their ears in pain, but it didn’t block out the sound. Then the sound ceased, and the light in the stone, which had burned for over five centuries, went out.

  Elak glared at the blond elf, the faint light filtering through the half-covered window contorting his features. “What have you done?” Even as he said it, he knew what would happen. Swearing at the elf as he backed toward his alcove, he held up one warning finger. “I will find you, elf. Mark my words. You will pay for what you’ve done.” With that, he stepped into the shadows and was gone.

  “I think we should go.” Rush already headed toward the door. He glanced at the stone once and noticed that it floated above the pedestal and spun, its light still extinguished. Not liking the look of it, he pushed on the others to hurry them down the steps.

  The fire that had destroyed the vine guardian had long since burned out, returning the stairway to its perpetual darkness. They could see nothing beyond perhaps five steps, and knew it would only get darker the lower they went. Unnecessarily, Dart announced it was far too dark for them to go down safely.

  Merdel raised his hands above his head, shouted three words, and clapped his hands. Light sprang into the unsteady tower as day exploded from the wizard’s fingertips. “Is that sufficient to see by?” Panting heavily, Merdel blinked several times to keep from passing out.

  “Aye, thank you.” Dart ignored the wizard’s weary attempt at sarcasm. All that mattered now was escape. The elven archer all but sprinted down the stairs, with the others following close behind.

  Just as Merdel’s feet touched the floor at the bottom of the steps, an explosion shook the tower. Though he couldn’t see it, the bearded mage knew the chamber at the top had just been destroyed. Not stopping to consider it, the wizard hustled his companions past the soldiers gathered in the courtyard as several more detonations sounded above them, each one getting closer. They were halfway through the guards’ midst before any of them realized it. By that time, they all felt threatened by what happened overhead, and the soldiers scattered in an effort to save their own lives. Elak’s wishes could blow apart along with his tower for all they cared.

  As they reached the relative shelter of a covered archway, the companions turned back to see the last twenty feet of the tower explode. Stones flew in all directions, striking or crushing those unlucky enough to be in their path. The companions ducked hastily inside the archway as rocks of many sizes pelted them. The entire tower had virtually disintegrated in a series of explosions, and it was many long minutes before the four adventurers crept back into the open.

  “That was a controlled burst?” Drath looked around breathlessly as smaller structures inside the courtyard began to fall apart from the force of the concussions.

  Dodging stones and chunks of wood that fell around them from above, the company fled back the wa
y they had come. The ground shook under their feet as a final detonation sounded behind them. Glancing back, Drath saw the doorway they’d just left explode into the hall, flinging stones and other debris all down the length of the passageway. Pelted in the back by small rocks and dust, the tall man turned to Merdel and slugged him square in the face.

  The wizard fell on his back, blood spraying from his nose. He couldn’t guess why Drath had just hit him, nor why he reached to help him up.

  Not saying anything, Drath led his comrades in the direction Vaun and Thorne had gone.

  * * *

  Thorne lay sprawled among several large stones and the bodies of four of Elak’s soldiers. Two of the men lay crushed beneath rocks twice their size, but the dwarf looked untouched except by dust. Another sizable stone lay close to his head, however, and on closer inspection he didn’t appear to be breathing.

  Merdel fell to his knees beside his friend. “No, you waterhead! You can’t be dead. You still haven’t told me why Quiris is jealous of you. Fire take you, you stone-brained dwarf. You have to accept the Great God’s love first. If you’re dead, I’ll kill you!” Cradling the dwarf’s blood-spattered head in his lap, the mage continued to deride his friend for dying too soon.

  “Why, Merdel, I’d no idea you cared for me so much.” Merdel gasped and peered down into Thorne’s blue eyes sparkling with amusement. The dwarf was in obvious pain but seemed to thoroughly enjoy witnessing Merdel’s misery.

  “You ice-brained trickster.” Merdel wiped tears out of his eyes. “I thought you were dead.” Drath and the two elves agreed.

  “So’d I.” Thorne grimaced when Merdel shook him. “Easy, you old windbag, my head hurts. Anyway, I was fallin’ into darkness when the sweet song of a dove began callin’ me bad names, and I had to return to my friends.” The dwarf looked positively pleased at catching the usually reserved wizard in a rare show of emotion.

  Shaking him again in irritation, Merdel asked Drath to help him raise the deceptive dwarf to his feet. They did, though far rougher than necessary.

  While Thorne swore at them in dwarvish, the naturally harsh, guttural language made worse by Thorne’s irritation, Drath glanced hurriedly around. “Where’s Vaun?”

  “Don’ know.” Thorne pulled his hammer out from under a rock. “Lost sight of ’im when these ice-blasted idiots jumped me. Then everythin’ started shakin’ and a big rock hit me in the head. Next thin’ I knew, Merdel was wooin’ me back to life.”

  The wizard frowned but refused to respond to the dwarf’s taunt. “He’s probably already dead. Elak’ll surely kill him on sight, especially now that one of his stones is destroyed.”

  “Is that what that was?” Thorne nodded satisfactorily. “I thought Elak had won and the world was endin’.”

  Merdel smiled indulgently, as if to a small child. “No, my stupid friend, no. Elak has been weakened. One of his precious stones has been safely removed from use.”

  The dwarf rubbed his sore scalp. “You call this safely?”

  “Aye. And I’m sure the rock suffered worse than you.”

  Thorne refused to comment, but he did glare at the elves for laughing. They promptly began conversing rapidly in elvish. From the way they looked Thorne over and glanced meaningfully up and down the hallway, they discussed their chances of outrunning the dwarf if he became more angry.

  The dwarf studied Merdel. “Speakin’ of sufferin’, who punched you in the face?”

  Merdel self-consciously touched his swollen nose, trying to think up a plausible excuse. He’d remembered what had happened in the tower room and knew he’d never live down what he’d done. Neither his friends nor himself would let him forget. But now was not the time to address that with Thorne. “I’ll tell you later. Let’s get moving.”

  Drath echoed him. “If Vaun is still alive, we need to help him. And if he’s not, the Great God forbid it, we need to recover his body. I’m sure not all of Elak’s soldiers have panicked as badly as those in the courtyard, and everything is calming down now that the place has stopped falling apart. We have to get to Vaun while everyone is still as dazed as we are.” So saying, the tall man led the way as the group chased after their one absent party member.

  * * *

  “Stones, the lad’s good.” Thorne led the way as they turned down the last hallway leading to Elak’s chambers. The bodies of a dozen mercenaries littered the floor, twice as many as the ones in the passageways they’d just left. Elak had ordered a stout concentration of men around his chambers in anticipation of the companions following him there, but he hadn’t counted on one of their number being a Swordsman. Then again, the guards had been so many that they’d probably crowded each other and made themselves more vulnerable to the young man’s graceful attack.

  Drath figured that if Vaun ever became aware of the death he’d reaped this day he’d slip into a depression so deep he’d die. Hopefully, when all this ended he could rationalize his actions and see them as unavoidable. Vaun had come a long way toward accepting himself and his gifts.

  The sounds of a sword fight drifted to them from beyond the half-open doors at the end of the hall. Stepping over the bodies and pushing the thick panels aside, the five companions saw Vaun Tarsus remove the head of the last guard in the room.

  Blood covered the Swordsman, and he ignored the others as he headed for the hidden passageway revealed by a fallen tapestry. From the slightly less graceful way he moved, Drath guessed he was injured in several places. His old wounds probably still troubled him, too.

  The room they’d entered possessed the only adornments in the entire castle. All five of them winced at the bright colors that clashed violently with each other from hangings around the room. Blood spattered everything, including the large bed in one corner. On it, two guards lay sprawled in their own blood, having attempted to use it to gain an advantage over the slayer in the guise of a young Ramener.

  Drath counted seven bodies before he reached the exposed passageway, not bothering to acknowledge the ones he missed. As he stepped into yet another dark stairway, the tall man decided to do everything he could to keep from angering Vaun Tarsus.

  * * *

  Taking the steps two at a time, Vaun Tarsus charged toward the fulfillment of his Purpose. He didn’t know exactly what he was supposed to do, but he trusted his Swordsman instincts to tell him when the time was right. The Song stayed with him, reviving his trust in it. His mind stayed dimly aware of the death he’d dealt to so many guardsmen, but the Song wouldn’t allow him to dwell on it too long. Right now, the most important thing was the completion of his Purpose.

  Coming out into the dark stone passage, he leapt at the two guards in front of the double doors at the hall’s end. The Song guided him to dance around their slow, feeble strikes, and the Rhythm urged his sword’s edge to slice their throats.

  Kicking the doors open, the Swordsman strode briskly into the chamber beyond. Once inside, he stopped at the top of the five stairs and gawked at what he saw.

  In the room’s center sat a black pool that swirled and bubbled, with deep growls issuing behind noxious black steam to echo around the circular chamber. Behind it, alcoves stood in regular intervals like soldiers standing at attention. In the center one, a man in a black cloak was just disappearing inside behind a bright flash of white light. Beside the portal stood a man that froze Vaun into immobility and stopped his heart. The Song choked to a standstill, and the Rhythm skipped several times before dying away.

  Vaun had never seen this man before, but he knew him. From his plain brown boots to his tattered brown cloak to the rapier at his hip, this man felt like someone Vaun Tarsus had known all his life. It took Vaun a moment to realize why he felt this way, and when the knowledge struck him the Song exploded into a symphony of what sounded like greeting. The Rhythm pounded welcomingly behind it, verifying what he’d just learned about this man. The knowledge defined his Purpose to him, and that terrified, astounded, and elated him. It brought to light his destin
y.

  * * *

  Lirix, turning more at the feel of the young Swordsman than any sound that might possibly be heard above the wrath of the Dacheen, looked wonderingly at the youth across the deadly black pool from him. Lirix couldn’t guess why, but he felt connected to this person in a way so strong it actually scared him. And he wasn’t afraid of anyone.

  Suddenly, the reason behind the bond struck him, and Lirix drew his rapier and bowed grandly toward Vaun staring at him. Straightening with the impish grin that so infuriated Elak, the bodyguard flourished his weapon in the air and stepped backward into the portal behind him. With a flash, he was gone.

  Released at last, Vaun cried out and leapt forward. He landed on the last step just as a huge black hand rose out of the pool. The youth felt a fear he hadn’t known was possible, and yet that was somehow familiar, as a menacing growl reached out to him from the pool. Unerringly, the six-fingered hand lunged for the Swordsman, causing his warning itch to numb his left side.

  Reacting instinctively, Vaun ducked and slashed at the hand grabbing at him. The woven steel sliced into the black hand, causing whatever was in the pool to howl with rage and pain.

  To Vaun, it felt like he cut through liquid fog. It also felt dirty and evil, and made his skin crawl and his hair stand on end. His sword arm felt like it was on fire, and his Vaulka screamed at him to be cleaned of the impure stuff. Even more shocking was what happened to the Song. It cut off again, this time sounding as if it might not return. Unlike the other times it had left him, he couldn’t feel it hovering anywhere in his thoughts. It was just…gone.