by D. M. Almond
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Since had Corbin left the cannibals’ campsite, his brother’s trail had become simple to follow again. The gnome who accompanied his brother was not exactly the sneakiest of individuals, based on the sloppy trail he left in his wake. Again, Corbin could see that neither of the men were even mildly concerned about covering their tracks. And why should they be? How could they possibly imagine they were being tracked? The sheer indifference Logan possessed filled Corbin with a wave of anger.
It was not long before he came across the corpse of the slain sauria lizard and the towering pile of rubble beside it. Corbin was trying to determine what kind of creature stuck out from under part of the rock. Did someone cut a section of this thing’s leg off? he wondered. He rubbed his fingers across the dried wound and then smelled the tips, determining it to be a pig.
The scene around him did not make much sense. It seemed there was a battle. The dead sauria was a clear testament to that. But how had these boulders buried a pig which looked freshly killed, and what was a hog doing in these tunnels beyond the forest anyhow?
Corbin decided none of that mattered, picking back up on the gnome’s trail. The only thing that was important was to find Logan as soon as possible. Every day he journeyed took him farther from New Fal, and more importantly, Elise.
“Corbin. Behind you,” a gentle voice whispered, tickling the hairs of his neck.
Corbin was startled when he turned around to find a man who had certainly not been there before standing beside the pile of rubble. He was older than most of the folk Corbin had met, with wrinkles lining a face that somehow revealed an underlying wisdom and a caring nature. A bushy white beard hung from his face, reaching all the way down to the midsection of his long white robes, which swayed back and forth, though no wind existed in this part of the tunnels.
The stranger leaned on a tall, knotty oak staff and stared deep into Corbin’s soul with twinkling silver eyes and a familiar smile. Corbin knew he should be on his guard, but something about the figure stopped him from brandishing his weapon.
“Who are you?” he tentatively asked.
“You know who I am, Corbin Walker,” the stranger confidently replied.
He did know. It made no sense, but he did. This was the god of his people. He was staring at the corporeal form of Baetylus himself! Immediately Corbin fell to the ground in an act of worship, groveling before his great master.
“Rise, my son,” Baetylus kindly commanded, this time out loud, drifting across the dirt to tower over Corbin and gently motioning for him to stand.
Rising, Corbin could see the figure was an elaborate apparition, faintly translucent, revealing the rocky wall through the visage. When it moved, Baetylus blinked in and out of the air slightly.
“Great All-Father, how is this possible?”
“Anything I wish is possible,” Baetylus stated, an edge of annoyance in his voice.
“Surely, I meant no disrespect toward you, oh Magnificent One,” Corbin groveled.
“The gift you now possess allows me to speak directly to you. It is a rare thing for man to be bestowed such wonders. I have decided to directly help you bring Logan back to New Fal, lest many people die in the kingdom of man due to the careless actions of one.”
“As has been explained, All-Father, but why do you come to me in this guise?” Corbin asked.
“When last we spoke, it caused your mortal shell great pain. This was not my wish. Your human body is frail indeed, so I come to you in a way that is easier for your simple mind to comprehend,” Baetylus said plainly, not meaning to insult the mortal, but speaking matter-of-factly.
“How truly blessed and honored I am,” Corbin said.
“I will not be with you long, for your mind cannot handle it. Perhaps in time, but not quite yet. Follow me, my son.” The visage drifted back to the rocky wall of tumbled boulders and pointed at its center. “Your brother is here.” Baetylus noticed the look of distress that washed over his servant and corrected. “Not under the stones, past them.” To illustrate his point, he pushed his arm into the barrier, disappearing up to the elbow in the stone.
Corbin exhaled a heavy sigh of relief. He felt unworthy to commune with his Lord after such a misunderstanding.
“Move the boulders out of the path, and I will show you the way,” Baetylus ordered.
Corbin set his voulge down and began trying to pry a massive rock from the barrier.
“Not like that,” Baetylus said. “Use your mind.”
“Uh...what?”
“Move the rubble out of your way with your mind,” Baetylus said as if it were common sense.
“Great Lord, please forgive me. I am but your ignorant servant. How would I move these mighty boulders just by thinking of it?”
“Fall into yourself and find the channel of power that attunes you to the universe,” Baetylus said.
Hands resting at his sides, Corbin closed his eyes and did as he was instructed. After long minutes, focusing deeply on the inhale and exhale of the air around him, he felt a tingling sensation around the periphery of his being. He searched for it and felt as if a door was open wide, letting a flood of teeming psionic energy encircle his aura.
“Good, you are a natural,” Baetylus calmly encouraged him. “Now let the power flow into your soul.”
Corbin opened a hole in the fabric of his mind, letting the pent up energy funnel inside, slowly building in intensity. It was like filling a barrel with rainwater, except instead of rain there was a living river of thought, filling fuller and fuller until his head felt ready to explode.
“Now release that store of energy against the barrier of rocks,” Baetylus commanded.
Corbin could not stem the flow flooding into him, building to the breaking point against his psyche. He scrambled futilely against the current that overwhelmed his will, desperately clambering for the energy to stop flowing. In a panic, he released it.
Shards of light spit forth from the center of Corbin’s forehead, exploding in the air just short of his face. The rock wall was completely unfazed, while he, on the other hand, flew backward through the air, propelled by the sheer force of releasing the energy.
He landed squarely atop the dead sauria. The tunnel walls were spinning as he sat up, trying to catch his breath, and Baetylus’ visage watched by the rocks, wearing a look that was either amusement or annoyance, although Corbin guessed it was a little of each.
“Perhaps we should just have you climb over the barrier instead,” Baetylus offered.
“Agreed.” Corbin rubbed his arm where it had hit the rough scales of the sauria’s back.
Producing a grappling hook, Corbin swung the rope around in a circle, throwing it up and over the top of the rockslide, before pulling back to catch a firm hold. Testing the grip with his weight, he decided it was safe enough and carefully scaled the barrier.
Baetylus suddenly appeared next to him, flickering in and out of existence higher and higher up the face of the rockslide, each time leaving a faint blue glow to mark where he had been.
“Follow my path to make it over more quickly,” the god ordered.
Corbin altered his ascent as instructed, finding the All-Father’s path much easier to traverse, and quickly made his way over the other side.
“I must leave you now, my son,” Baetylus said, regretting he could not stay.
“Please, All-Father, stay with me. Guide me just a little while longer,” Corbin whined, longing to remain in his glory.
“It cannot be done without damaging your mind. Fear not, my child, for I will light the way for you. Once you make it to the black gap, wet some cloth and wrap your face to stay safe. If you do not heed these words, it will be the end of your journey on this plane.”
“I will, Great Baetylus,” Corbin said. “Thank you for the gift of your wisdom!”
The white bearded visage faded, revealing a blank stone wall behind it. It was easy for Corbin to make his way through th
e winding tunnels. At every intersection Baetylus had left a feint glow on the ground to mark the way, speeding his progress considerably. Corbin did not even bother slowing his pace, blindly running down the paths marked by the All-Father. Soon the tunnels squeezed in, getting tighter and tighter, and he spied the dark gap ahead.
Pulling out a spare tunic, Corbin drenched it with the water from his flask, tying it around his head and covering his face, as he’d been warned. Only his eyes remained uncovered as he slipped through the tight opening and into the purple moss-covered area.
He recognized the plant at once. It was called Morpheus’ Embrace, known to release a poisonous spore that would make one delirious, knocking out the unsuspecting victim. The tunnel was virtually lined with the nasty stuff, which was pretty enough but deadly to be around. The poisonous moss would intoxicate the unsuspecting victim into a state of delirium with a strong desire to rest. Once asleep, its victims would never awaken, starving to death and decomposing to feed the vile spreading plant.
Scanning the area, he could see a multitude of dead animals that had walked into the trap, their stripped carcasses remaining as bumps along the tunnel floor covered with a blanket of moss.
Suddenly Corbin’s heart leapt with joy, spying his brother asleep around the bend. Logan was cozied up to the carpet of moss, like a babe resting in his mother’s arms. He was a lot heavier than when they were kids, but Corbin could still carry him. With a grunt, he tossed Logan over his shoulder and pushed himself upright.
A wave of relief washed over him, knowing that he had found his brother. Now all of the misunderstandings could be set right. Arch Councilor Zacharia would see Logan’s truth, Riverbell would be safe once more, and life could return to normal.
