The Dark Monolith: Heroes of Ravenford Book 3

by F. P. Spirit

  Donnie squinted his eyes, then nodded. “I see it.”

  Seth moved out of the way as the slight elf ascended the stairs. When Donnie reached the spot Seth had pointed out, he stopped and examined the area. There was a square-shaped box there that blended in perfectly with the color of the wall. Donnie slowly reached into the box and began fiddling with its insides. From the look on his face, it was obvious he was struggling with something. All of sudden, there was a sound like the popping of a spring, followed by the harsh grinding of gears. A moment later, the slight elf launched himself backwards, narrowly avoiding a huge blade that came swinging out of a previously-unseen slit in the wall.

  “Donnie!” Alana cried.

  She launched herself up the stairs, but then stopped short as Lloyd caught hold of the slight elf. Seth leaned casually against the opposite wall, wearing a wide smirk. “Told you so.”

  Donnie regained his balance and spun around, flashing Alana a brilliant smile. “Never even touched me.” He then turned to Seth. “I almost had it,” he said, holding two fingers about a half inch apart.

  Above them, three huge blades now swung across the stairwell at regular intervals. They disappeared into the opposite wall, only to reappear again mere seconds later. The swinging blades effectively blocked their way upward. Seth glared at the slight elf. “So what now, genius?”

  Donnie’s hand went to his chin, his head tilted and his brow furrowing with deep creases. A few moments went by when, all of a sudden, his face lit up. He eyed Seth questioningly. “Do you happened to have any spare knives?”

  Seth let out a short laugh. “Heh. I always have spare knives. How many do you need?”

  Donnie swiveled his head to the blades above. “Three should do it,” he said, holding up that many fingers.

  Seth produced three daggers and held them out hilt first. Alana eyes swept from the daggers to the blades above them then back to Donnie. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

  Donnie grasped the knives without taking an eye off the blades, his response in rhythm with the lowest one. “Never... ask... me... if... I’m... sure...” As the last word died on his lips, the blade disappeared into the wall. Donnie suddenly leapt forward with one of Seth’s knives in hand. The agile elf swiftly wedged the dagger into the opening, then quickly backpedaled down the steps. They all stood there, holding their breath, waiting to see what would happen next. There was a loud clicking sound, and the knife handle moved slightly, but the dagger remained firmly stuck in the slit.

  “It worked!” Donnie cried in triumph. He spun around and grasped Alana, hugging the lady warrior and rocking her back and forth.

  Alana seemed uncertain how to respond, her arms askew as the slight elf held her tight. “I guess it did,” she responded, sounding both surprised and amazed.

  “Good thing too, or you’d be a head shorter.”

  Glo turned to see Ruka standing between him and Aksel. There was a strange yellow flash in her eyes as she stared at the embracing duo. Glo was not quite sure, but he thought he heard a faint roll of thunder off in the distance.

  “Of course, if he had just disabled the trap in the first place...” Seth pointed out, his smirk even wider than before.

  Donnie let Alana go, his eyes moving from Ruka to Seth. “I’m surrounded by doubters,” he exclaimed perhaps just a bit too dramatically. The slight elf then spun around and began timing the next blade. “Anyway... it’s... too... late... now...”

  Donnie leapt forward just as the second blade disappeared into the wall and wedged another knife into the slot it came from. He quickly retreated and waited to see the result of his effort. The second dagger held as well. Donnie repeated his performance one more time, but on the last blade, the knife didn’t quite wedge in all the way. He tried to correct his mistake, but instead was rewarded with a nasty cut across the side of his head. Had he been just a fraction slower, he wouldn’t have had a head at all.

  “Donnie!” Alana and Ruka screamed simultaneously. The pair rushed up the stairwell and dragged the elf back down.

  “Let me see that,” Aksel said, pushing through them all.

  Donnie bled profusely from the scalp, but it turned out to be less severe than it looked. Aksel staunched the bleeding in no time and healed up the cut. When he was done, Aksel sat back and turned to Seth. “Do you want to give that a try?”

  Seth threw up his hands in front of him. “Oh, no, no, no. I’m short enough already. This is Donnie’s show. Let him finish what he started.”

  Donnie gave Seth a nod as got up and brushed himself off. “Much obliged.”

  Alana’s eyes were filled with concern as she watched the elf prepare to try his crazy stunt once more. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Donnie flashed the lady knight a brilliant smile. “I’m fine now, thanks to Aksel.” His gaze shifted upward to the last revolving blade. “I should have just left the last knife alone. I’ll get it this time for sure.”

  Without warning, Ruka lashed out and punched him in the arm.

  “Ow!” Donnie cried. He grabbed his arm and whirled around to face the teen. “What was that for?”

  Ruka’s expression was dark, her tone filled with more than a trace of anger. “You better not miss this time.”

  The young teen then spun on her heel and pushed past them as she charged back down the stairs. Donnie’s jaw hung open as he gazed after her. Seth, smirking outrageously, held out another knife to the bewildered elf. Donnie absently grabbed it from the halfling, his eyes still focused on the retreating teen. Alana placed a hand on his shoulder and softly bade him, “Good luck.”

  Her words brought the elf back to his senses. He peered at Alana and replied with a soft, “Thank you.”

  Everyone stepped back as Donnie prepared himself for another attempt. The slight elf swayed back and forth, his body keeping rhythm with the huge blade. He was more cautious this time, waiting for a number of passes before finally launching himself up the staircase. As the last blade disappeared into the wall, Donnie reached the opposite side and quickly wedged the dagger into the slot. The wiry elf immediately leapt back down the steps, his eyes glued to the hilt that still protruded from the wall. The stairwell grew deathly quiet as the companions waited there, none daring to even breathe. Their silence was rewarded with a loud clicking sound as the last knife handle moved slightly, but nonetheless, stuck in the slit. All three blades were now effectively wedged into the wall.

  “Phew.” Donnie wiped his brow then spun around to face the others. “I suggest we move ahead quickly. This makeshift fix won’t hold forever.”

  The companions resumed their ascent, the clicking sounds of the blocked blades garnering nervous stares from each of them as they passed. Seth, in particular, kept muttering to himself and shaking his head. Glo heard Aksel whisper to the halfling, “Don’t say it.”

  “I can still think it,” Seth murmured under his breath.

  Phantom Armor

  The second his foot touched the floor, the suits of armor began to move

  The small company continued up the stairwell as it wound through solid stone. Maybe two dozen steps above the blade trap, Seth stopped and raised his hand, signaling another halt.

  “What is it now? Another trap?” Aksel whispered.

  “There’s light up ahead,” Seth hissed over his shoulder.

  Glo felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Had they finally found the Serpent Cultists? If so, how did they get past the chakra puzzle and the blade trap in the stairwell?

  “What kind of light?” he asked in a hushed tone.

  “Daylight,” came the soft reply.

  Daylight? The queasiness in Glo’s stomach disappated, but at the same time he felt confused. Glo tried to picture the exterior of the monolith in his mind, but could not remember seeing any window
s. They began to climb again. Sure enough, when Glo reached the stair Seth had been on, he could see light at the top of the stairwell, and indeed, it looked like daylight.

  The companions climbed a bit father until the stairwell opened up to yet another huge chamber—this one was not dark like the floors below. From where Glo stood, he could see three walls, each with a large archway embedded in its center. Through those arches, the treetops of the Darkwoods were visible, fanning out like a sea of fluttering greenery as far as the eye could see. Sunlight filtered into the room from all sides, completely illuminating the area around them. As in the lower rooms, the huge pillar rose up its center, the staircase winding around it all the way to the ceiling far above. Glo could only assume there was a fourth archway in the wall hidden behind the pillar.

  “The magic on the archways must be the same used in the downstairs entrance,” he murmured quietly. “Light can filter in but not out.”

  Elladan nodded and gave him a half-smile. “It is a nice trick.”

  The large chamber was barren, with one glaring exception—midway between the stairs and each archway stood a black suit of armor. Glo eyed the suits cautiously. They appeared to be full sets of armor, including a helm, breastplate, gauntlets, tassets, and greaves, all dull black in color. Furthermore, each suit held a large, jet black sword, point down with the tip resting on the floor, each pommel gripped firmly by two armored gauntlets.

  The sight of the black-armored suits standing alone in the empty room was eerie. Yet despite their intrusion on this floor, the armor remained stationary, appearing for all intents and purposes to be just harmless decorations. Yet something nagged at the back of Glo’s mind, something dark. He racked his brain, mentally scanning over the books in his father’s library. Glo’s mental eye abruptly stopped—he was looking at a large book with a dull black cover, the title written in swirling elvish runes along the thick binding. It read, The Book of Undead.

  Glo’s pulse began to race as he mentally leafed through the pages of that book. He sped through it, scanning for anything to do with armor. Suddenly he stopped—a dark visage stared back at him from the page, sending a chill up his spine. Glo frantically skimmed the text, his eyes growing wider as he realized what they were dealing with. Yet, before he could utter a single word, Donnie prempted him.

  “I think I’ll take a closer look,” the slight elf declared as he casually took a step off the stairs.

  “Donnie, wait!” Aksel cried, reaching for the elf just a split second too late. The second his foot touched the floor, the suits of armor began to move. Glo froze in horror as he watched three large jet black swords raise off the floor and spin around in those dull black gauntlets until they were held upright. Each suit then took a step forward, the clinking of metal armored plates echoing through the otherwise silent chamber. The motion broke Glo from his fear-driven paralysis, and he managed to utter two words.

  “Phantom armor!”

  The sound of those words seemed to draw a palpable darkness down around them. Phantom armors were undead creatures, raised from the corpses of slain knights, any shred of humanity ripped away from them, the empty metal shell filled with nothing but a cold spirit. Were they evil in life, the knight’s soul remained bound to the armor, haunting the halls and battlefields where they were slain, forever seeking vengeance against the living. Yet even if they were good, the soul of the slain knight would be replaced with a violent spirit, one intent on death and destruction. Either way, phantom armors were terrible opponents, encased in steel and feeling no pain, battling until the bitter end.

  While Glo quickly explained what they were up against, Donnie, Lloyd, Alana and Ruka fanned out in front of them. The sound of steel echoed through the chamber as the foursome drew their weapons. Donnie stood ready, rapier in one hand, short sword in the other. Lloyd, beside the slight elf, took a defensive stance, a large sword held in each hand, flames rising from their hilts and swiftly encircling the blades. Alana’s holy sword gleamed with pure white light as she drew it from its sheath, as if the blade knew it was facing creatures of the dark. Ruka, next to Alana, drew her short sword and a dagger, the faint crackle of thunder adding to the mix as arcs of electricity played across her sword blade.

  Glo finished his brief explanation, his eyes now fixed on the advancing armors. The entire scene seemed surreal, the black suits slowly and methodically marching forward, their huge blades pointed directly at the companions. They uttered no words or challenges of any kind, the only sounds coming from them being the clicking of their armored plates and the scraping of their steel boots on the stone floor. The eerie silence was shattered by a cry from the stairwell above.

  “There’s a fourth one!”

  That was Seth’s voice. Glo gazed up at the pillar, but could not see the halfling. He must have climbed the spiral staircase to see behind the pillar and was now on the opposite side. All at once, music filled the room. It was an invigorating tune, and Glo’s nerves immediately calmed at the sound of it. He glanced over at Elladan, the bard responding with a half-smile as his lively music dispelled the dark cloud that hung over them.

  Seth stood on the other side of the pillar, about two dozen stairs above his friends. Upon reaching the third floor, he had immediately spied the black armors and noted their positions in front of the archways. Seth was certain there was a fourth armor and archway behind the pillar, so he headed up the staircase to get a good look. Sure enough, as he rounded the curve in the pillar, another archway and armor came into view. That was when he heard Aksel’s cry.

  “Donnie, wait!”

  A moment later, the armors within his view began to move. Seth planted his face in his palm. Leave it to Donatello—the elf was so impetuous he was giving Lloyd a run for his money. That’s when he heard Glo yell, “Phantom armor!”

  Seth wasn’t exactly sure what phantom armor was, but whatever it was, he was certain it wasn’t good. Some kind of spirit, or ghost, inside the armor perhaps? Either way, the armor appeared pretty solid—too solid, in fact. Two of the phantom armors had disappeared around the curve of the pillar, but the third was still advancing in his direction.

  “There’s a fourth one!” he cried loud enough for the others to hear. Unfortunately, there was no response. It appeared that Seth was on his own back here, but what was he going to do? His thoughts were interrupted by the strumming of a lute. Lively music filled the chamber, making Seth smile despite himself. At least Elladan is making himself useful.

  The sudden clash of steel on steel rang throughout the chamber. The others had engaged the enemy. Seth returned his focus to the armor in front of him. The thing was huge, probably six feet tall and a good three hundred pounds. There’s no way I can take this thing alone.

  Seth’s eyes swept the nearly-empty chamber, searching for anything that might give him an advantage. His eyes fell on the archway, and an idea popped into his head. It was crazy, but then again Seth never shied away from crazy. Making up his mind, the halfling grasped the railing and launched himself up and over, landing smoothly on the stone floor below. The phantom armor continued to advance straight for him. Seth reached into a bag on his belt, but this time did not withdraw a knife. Instead, he now held a small vial of oily liquid. Seth held out the vial and moved his hands in a slow, intricate pattern. As his hands came together, Seth spoke a single word, “Arvina.”

  The oily vial disappeared from his hand. At the same moment, a film of blackish liquid appeared under the armor’s feet. The puddle quickly spread until it reached about two yards in every direction. When the phantom armor took its next step, its foot started to slide. It shifted both feet in an attempt to stay upright, but then its back foot gave out as well. The entire suit of armor flipped up in the air and landed with a resounding crash in the middle of a pool of grease.

  A thin smirk graced Seth’s lips. Step one, check. Now for step two.

  Whil
e Seth was still busy with his phantom armor, Lloyd and Donnie engaged their own. The warrior and swordsman weaved in and out, slashing at the metal-encased creature and dodging its heavy blade. Neither of Donnie’s weapons left a scratch, but Lloyd fared a bit better, especially with his black blade. Wherever that sword connected, it left a deep cut in the dull black armor. Meanwhile, Alana and Ruka fought another armor. The lady knight expertly parried its huge sword with her shield, and rang blow after blow on the armored creature. Her gleaming sword seemed equally as effective as Lloyd’s black blade, slicing deep into the armored suit. Ruka hung back, slowly circling around the black-armored figure, looking for an opportune angle to strike.

  Meanwhile, the enigmatic Elistra had revealed yet another psionic ability. She summoned an astral construct, a creature of pure ectoplasm, the material of the astral plane. The construct was roughly the size and shape of a large human, with a semi-transparent body and indistinct features. It bore no weapons or armor, its large, three fingered hands being its only method of attack. Elistra sent the creature to hold off the third phantom armor while the others dealt with the first two.

  “It may not last long,” she cautioned, her expression grim.

  Glo watched with keen interest as the construct faced off against the phantom armor. As soon as it was within reach, the armor assaulted the creature, hacking and slashing away with its huge black sword. Pieces of ectoplasm flew everywhere but did little to deter the construct. The creature swung back with its large hands, hammering away mercilessly, leaving visibile dents in the dull black armor wherever it struck. A sudden cry drew his attention to the other combatants.

  “Alana, move!”

  Glo spun back in time to see the lady knight backpedal away from the black armor. A second later, Ruka let loose a bolt of lightning. The bolt passed through the armor and across the room, well away from the other combatants. It was a well-executed attack, but unfortunately had little effect on the phantom armor, resulting in only a momentary pause in the creature’s movements. Once the bolt was gone, the black-armored fiend resumed its advance as if nothing had happened.