The Dark Monolith: Heroes of Ravenford Book 3

by F. P. Spirit

  Donnie shook his head. “Trust me, we were hard pressed finding the Rusty Nail. All the other ships were either too small or in bad shape.”

  Lloyd nodded. “I have to agree. I wouldn’t trust sailing on any of them up the river into the Darkwoods.”

  Aksel’s eyes flickered around the table. It was filled with grim faces, all except for Elladan. The bard, wearing his typical half-smile, tried to cheer the others up. “Well, since there’s no hope for it, we might as well make the best of our time. I vote we stay here and use the extra day to prepare ourselves.”

  Aksel nodded slowly—Elladan had a point. He peered around the table once more. “What do the rest of you think?”

  Lloyd shrugged his broad shoulders. “I guess I could use the time to train a bit more.”

  “If you do, then I will stay and train with you,” Alana added, her eyes alight with the thought of working with the young warrior.

  “I wouldn’t mind joining you either,” Donnie chimed in. “You never did show me how you do that thing where your blades catch on fire.” The swordsman made a whooshing sound which he emphasized with some hand motions.

  A grin swept across Lloyd’s previously glum face. “I can try, but it took me years to get it down.”

  Donnie flashed him a sparkling smile. “I’m a fast learner.”

  “I guess I could research some new spells,” Glo mused aloud.

  “And I could see if I can divine anything more about the Serpent Cult’s progress,” Elistra said.

  Seth, Ruka and Martan all agreed they could make use of the extra day. Aksel imagined Seth would spend the time honing his sneaking skills with Ruka like he had done on their way to Vermoorden. With everyone agreed, Aksel made the final decision. “Okay then, I guess that settles it. We’ll stay in Vermoorden for the day.”

  Sir Craven nodded his approval. “Very well. Once we’ve finished resupplying ourselves we’ll head out. We’ll follow the path you laid out for us and meet you at the monolith three days from now.”

  Aksel gave the man a brief smile. “Thank you, Sir Craven. Thank you, Alana. Let’s just pray we are in time to stop the Cult...”

  Dreams

  He watched in terror as the large serpent caught the warrior from behind

  Shortly before noon, the companions bade farewell to Sir Craven and company. They watched the armored riders disappear up the road to the north, then went their separate ways. Glo left to study, Elistra to meditate, Aksel to pray, Lloyd, Alana, and Donnie to train, Seth and Ruka to play their strange game of hide-and-seek, and Elladan and Martan to stock up on any supplies they may need on the next leg of their journey.

  The rest of the day went agonizingly slow for Glo. He sat alone on his bed in the room he and Lloyd shared, the spellbooks of Telvar and Voltark spread out before him. Try as he might, he could not concentrate on his research. After a few hours, his eyes grew tired of staring at the pages opened in front of him. Frustrated and tired, the young elven wizard sat back on the bed and closed his eyes.

  The forest was dark, the tall trees looming far overhead, blocking out any sight of the sky above. A worn path cut through the woods before him, the barest glimmer of daylight in the far distance. He searched all around, but his friends were nowhere to be seen. He considered calling out their names, but the forest was eerily silent, making him wary of calling attention to himself.

  Glo slowly picked his way along the overgrown path, stepping over dead branches and tangled underbrush that barred his way. He kept a cautious eye on the dark woods that surrounded him, a growing sense of foreboding hovering at the edge of his senses. When he finally reached the end of the pathway, the woods opened up into a wide clearing. In the very center, a tall black structure rose far above the trees, nearly touching the grey skies above. It was the Darkwoods Monolith! There was no mistaking it. It looked exactly like the structure he had seen in his crystal ball.

  Glo felt a strange sense of urgency as he rushed across the clearing. Where were the others? Was the Cult still inside? Had he made it in time?

  As he approached the monolith, he observed an arched doorway at the base. It lay open, a dim reddish glow just visible beyond. Glo was running now, only stopping when he finally reached the door. He took a deep breath, then gingerly stepped inside. A huge chamber lay before him, glowing urns burning with fire lining the edges of the vast room. In the very center stood a giant stone statue. Glo eyed the figure carefully, quickly determing it was in the shape of a dwarf. The dwarf wore long, flowing robes, and held a large tome in one hand.

  That must be Larketh.

  Abruptly, the air before him began to shimmer. A transparent visage began to form, swiftly coalescing into the small but familiar figure of a halfling. Glo’s eyes went wide in horror.

  “Seth?”

  “Yes...” the visage responded in a strangely hollow tone.

  Glo’s voice broke as he stared at the ghostly figure. “What... happened to you?”

  “What do you think?” Seth shot back, his voice wavering strangely as he talked.

  “You’re... dead.” Glo forced himself to say that last word, not wanting to believe it, despite the irrefutable proof in front of him.

  “Duh,” came the immediate reply. There was no mistaking it. This was Seth, or more accurately, Seth’s ghost.

  Moisture welled up in Glo’s eyes. It was his fault. He had fallen behind somehow, letting his friends down. “I’m... I’m so sorry, Seth.”

  “Don’t be sorry,” Seth’s visage continued in that wavering tone. “There is still time...”

  “Time for what?” Glo cried out, still distraught over the death of his friend. “And why on earth are you talking like that?”

  Seth’s ghost smirked, his voice suddenly normal. “I’m talking this way because I’m dead, and I thought it would be amusing.” Glo almost screamed at the halfling in frustration, but Seth held up a hand. “There is still time to save the others, you nitwit.” The visage then spun around and floated quickly toward the center of the room. “Follow me...”

  Glo took off at a dead run after Seth’s ghost. He led him to a stairwell in floor of the chamber. Winding steps disappeared below. Glo raced down the staircase after the floating visage, doing his best to keep the ghost in sight. The stairs seemed to go on forever, farther and farther down into the earth below. After what seemed like an eternity, he spotted a doorway.

  Glo raced through the archway and into a wide chamber. Piles of gold and silver were stacked against the walls with large chests scattered here and there. Some were half open, gems, jewels and more treasures visible inside. An open path led across the center of the chamber to a wide platform. On that platform, a familiar figure in red spun around, a sword in each hand, driving back the four large serpents that surrounded him.

  “Lloyd!” Glo shouted with relief.

  Lloyd spun around, his eyes falling on Glo, the momentary lapse his undoing. At that moment, the largest serpent lunged for the young warrior.

  “Look out!” Glo cried in horror.

  He watched in terror as the large serpent caught the warrior from behind, lifted his body up with its giant maw, shook him around fiercely, then flung him aside like a rag doll. Lloyd’s body landed in a pile of gold next to the center platform. Glo stared at his friend’s unmoving figure, mortified at what he had just witnessed. Abruptly he realized there were more bodies lying next to Lloyd’s. All of his friends were there: Seth, Aksel, Elladan, Donnie, Elistra, Alana, Martan, and even the girl, Ruka. He felt momentarily numb, but that feeling was quickly replaced as unabiding anger welled up from somewhere deep inside him.

  “You... you murderers!” Glo screamed at the top of his lungs.

  He swiftly pulled a pinch of sulfur from his pouch and began the motions of a spell. As he did so, the largest serpent changed, shifting int
o a black-robed figure.

  “That won’t save you!” Glo yelled with fury. He finished the motions, speaking the word that would invoke the spell. “Augue!”

  A red hot ball sped from his hands, homing in on the mage and the large serpents. Man and beast stood as if frozen, watching the ball race toward them, not even attempting to move out of the way. The fiery sphere swiftly reached them, exploding into a huge dome of raging flames. The figures were engulfed, quickly disappearing from sight. A few seconds later, the flames subsided. The serpents were all gone, turned to ash, but the lone figure of a black mage stood there, completely unharmed. A shrill laugh emanated from behind the dark hood, followed by a strangely familiar voice.

  “Is that the best you’ve got?”

  Glo’s eyes went wide, the blood draining from his face as he recognized that voice. The dark figure reached up and pulled back its hood. It was Glo’s father, Amrod!

  “I told you to stay home, little elf...”

  Glo woke with a start. He sat up on the bed, his body drenched in sweat. Glo nearly started again when he saw the tall figure standing over him, but it turned out to be only Lloyd.

  “You were crying out in your sleep,” Lloyd told him, the young man’s face lined with concern.

  “Elves don’t sleep...” Glo murmured, the answer more out of reflex than anything else.

  “Well, your eyes were closed...”

  Glo suddenly felt a wave of emotion overtake him. Lloyd is alive! Without another thought, Glo jumped up off the bed and threw his arms around the young man. “I have never been so glad to see anyone in my life!”

  Lloyd appeared taken aback by the sudden display of affection. He stood there awkwardly hugging Glo back. “Umm, thanks... I guess. Anyway, sleeping or not, it sounded like you were having a nightmare.”

  Abruptly, Glo came to his senses. He swiftly pulled away from his tall friend. “Um, yes, as a matter of fact, I was.”

  A look of puzzlement crossed Lloyd’s face. He cocked his head to one side, his brow furrowing. “So let me get this straight—you don’t sleep, but you dream?”

  “Yes and no,” Glo replied, a smile etched across his lips for the first time since “waking”. He paused a moment, trying to find the words to explain elven rest to his friend. “As a spiritblade, you know how to meditate, right?”

  “Yeah, though I’m not very good at it.”

  Glo’s smile widened at his friend’s admission. “Well, elves basically meditate instead of sleeping. It helps us rest, and it replenishes our bodies.”

  Lloyd nodded slowly, understanding dawning on his face. “Okay, but then, how do you dream?”

  Glo let out a short laugh. It was a fair question. “Well, it doesn’t happen all the time, but if an elf enters into a deep enough trance, he, or she, can indeed dream.”

  Lloyd nodded once more, the lines in his face finally disappearing. “I guess that makes sense. Still, that must have been one heck of a dream.”

  “You don’t know the half of it.” Glo body involuntarily shuddered, the vision of his father’s face atop those black robes firmly etched in his mind.

  The next morning, the companions stood on the deck of the Rusty Nail, headed up the West Stromen toward the Darkwoods. The journey had been fairly quiet thus far. The weather was clear, and Lake Strikken was calm once again. They had reached the mouth of the river in just under an hour, and had began the slow voyage upstream. The land was clear on either side of the river. Beyond the southern bank, lush green plains spread out as far as the eye could see. The land on the northern bank was similarly filled with green grasses and sparse vegetation until it rose up to meet a chain of rolling, tree-lined hills in the distance.

  This was the same chain the travelers had seen on their way to Vermoorden, the one which bordered the south end of the Bendenwoods. According to Captain Morled, they would not reach the edge of the Darkwoods until much later in the day. Still they were making good time. Even so, many of the companions had grown anxious, not knowing if the Serpent Cultists had already found the Golem Master’s works.

  Glo sat on a wooden crate on the deck of the Rusty Nail, silently wondering what waited for them inside the Darkwoods Monolith. He was still unnerved by the nightmare he had the day before. Glo had tried scrying on the monolith again, but to no avail. He had seen no further sign of the dark mages, nor of their serpents. Elistra sat on the crate next to him, her eyes closed and legs crossed as she meditated. The seeress had been unperturbed by his failure to scry on the cultists further.

  “Larketh’s secrets are not so easily unearthed,” she had told him with that mysterious smile of hers.

  Glo decided to divulge his dream to the seeress, thinking that maybe she could make some sense of it. He reached over and lightly tapped her on the shoulder.

  “Elistra?” he said softly.

  “Yes,” she responded, not opening her eyes.

  “Do you have a moment?” he asked tentatively, already having second thoughts about discussing his strange dream. Elistra’s eyelids slowly opened, and two deep pools of violet stared back at him.

  “Certainly.” Her eyes sparkled at him with curiosity. She spun around to face him, remaining cross-legged all the while. “What is it?”

  Glo hesitated briefly, then told her about the dream. Elistra listened intently, not interrupting as he described the details to her. When he was done, she remained silent, her eyes taking on a faraway look. Glo waited quietly until she came out of her trance-like state. Abruptly, the seeress moved closer, a sympathetic smile on her face. She grabbed his hands and held onto them lightly. Her words were measured as she spoke.

  “That was indeed an interesting dream. While some dreams are prophetic, I am not getting that sense from what you have told me.”

  Glo let out a deep sigh, the anxiety he had been feeling for the last twenty-four hours suddenly washed away.

  “Still, there are elements of your dream I do find very interesting.” Glo raised an eyebrow, his nerves kicking up again. “Such as?”

  “Well, for one, the fact that the Serpent Cult had already found Larketh’s treasures.”

  “And for two?” He was certain she would mention the appearance of his father.

  An impish smile crossed her lips. “For two, is the fact that all your friends were dead or died in the dream.”

  That was not what he had expected to hear. “Is there a third point?”

  Elistra’s smile spread into an outright grin. “Yes, in fact. You are getting the hang of this. The third point is that your greatest nemesis turned out to be your father.”

  There it is. Glo shook his head, his face flushing. He kept talking to hide his embarrassment. “And all these points are...”

  “...your greatest fears,” she finished for him, squeezing his hands tightly.

  Glo let out a sigh, finally understanding what she was getting at. “Oh... I see. My mother used to call them fear dreams. She used to say it was your subconscious mind’s way of making you face your fears.”

  “Your mother is quite knowledgeable.”

  He shook his head, a wry smile crossing his lips. “She definitely knows her way around the mind.” Glo had found that out at a young age. He was never able to lie to her. Somehow his mother could always tell when he was hiding something and coax the truth out of him. Elistra gave him a warm smile, then turned to face toward the deck once more. She still held onto his one hand though. The two of them sat there side-by-side, holding hands and watching the antics on deck.

  Over by the railing, Donnie and Alana were taking in the sights. The two had grown closer over the last couple of days, the lady knight warming to the swordsman after his daring part in keeping her from falling overboard. Encased in full plate armor as she was, a tumble into the lake would have been a death sentence. The duo were not co
ntent long, though, their peace interrupted as a white-tailed hawk strafed over them.

  Donnie jumped back from the rail and threw his hands up over his head. “Ruka! Cut that out! I don’t know what’s gotten into you!”

  The rest of the companions, scattered across the deck, stopped what they were doing to watch the show. Glo glanced at Elistra—a knowing smile graced her lips. Across the deck, Donnie continued to be pushed away from the railing, dodging the swooping hawk at each pass. Alana, still at the rail, wore a bemused expression as she watched the swordsman bob to and fro.

  “How long do you think before he figures it out?” Elistra asked quietly.

  Glo chuckled softly. He was no expert in matters of the heart, but even the densest person could see Ruka’s interest in the slight elf. “I’m not sure. I don’t think his mind quite works that way. He seems to think of her as a mere child.”

  “There is nothing mere about her,” Elistra said with a tone of absolute certainty.

  Elladan sat on a crate on the opposite side of the deck. He had been playing a soothing melody until Ruka began her assault on the hapless elf. Now he played a jaunty tune, throwing in jibes here and there. “Watch your head there, Donnie! Those claws are sharp!”

  Aksel and Seth leaned side-by-side against the opposite rail, watching the antics unfold across from them. They had always been an unlikely duo, but seemed to have developed a friendship despite the fact that they were polar opposites. Seth smirked each time the hawk dove past the swordsman. Aksel’s expression remained serious the entire time. Martan was up in the crow’s nest on the foremast. The archer had mostly kept to himself since Ves had left them. A quiet man anyway, he now seemed heartbroken since they had gone their separate ways. Glo felt a brief pang of sympathy, understanding only too well how the archer felt.