Pulling himself to his feet, Swul straightened his hat and his wings raised him off the ground. He had a pretty good memory of how to progress through the Forest of Eternal Night, but he needed to stay on his guard. The foundling who protected the Forest was not one to be trifled with and Swul needed to be ready to deal with him, if necessary.
A feeling of dread overcame him. Swul thought it must mean that the foundling was close. And in that, he was right, but when he discovered the foundling, it wasn’t what he expected. Swul gasped, eyes widening as he hovered over the foundling’s head, which was detached from the rest of his body. The earth upon which it lay was dark with blood. Swul landed and just stared into the lifeless eyes, still not sure what to make of it. Zarim wouldn’t have done this, would he? If he had, that meant it was too late for them. Once Oberon found them, he wouldn’t show any mercy.
“Hold!”
Swul silently cursed himself for being sloppy. His grip tightened on the handle of his weapon. He could hear the buzzing of faerie wings behind him and he knew how this must look. The owner of the melodic voice came closer and Swul now had a definite sense of who it was.
Albion grabbed Swul’s shoulder and spun him around, his mouth dropping. “You’d dare come back to this place?”
Swul swung the axe in an upward stroke as he turned, and Albion barely managed to defend himself with his sword. The faerie warrior’s eyes narrowed into tiny slits, rage bubbling inside him at the sight of this traitor. He let out a war cry and lunged forward, thrusting his blade at Swul’s chest.
The pirate twisted to the side, and slammed the butt of his axe’s hilt against Albion’s forehead, and in the same motion struck a blow to Albion’s nose with his elbow. Albion spun away and Swul flew above him, crashing down against Albion’s back with both legs. The commander struck the ground, rolling onto his back just as Swul’s axe sliced through the air. Albion closed his eyes to prepare for the finishing blow, but it didn’t come.
Gingerly, Albion’s eyelids slid open. He saw the edge of Swul’s axe, positioned just a scant distance from his own head. Swul stood over his conquered foe, the grimace on his face made it apparent that he sincerely wanted to cleave Albion’s head in two. Instead, he moved it to the side and offered a hand. Albion stared at the hand for a moment before he accepted it and stood.
“Why didn’t you kill me?” asked Albion.
“Don’t think it’s got anythin’ t’ do with sentiment,” said Swul. “I just don’t wanna hear her bitch about it.”
“Why did you kill the foundling?” asked Albion.
Swul shook his head. “Got it all wrong. I found ‘im like that.”
“What? You’re certain?”
He scoffed. “D’ya really think I wouldn’t know whether or not I beheaded someone? Ain’t exactly sleepwalkin’, is it?”
“I suppose not. Why are you here?”
“Lookin’ for some friends.”
Albion sheathed his sword. “The three mortals?”
Swul grabbed the collar of Albion’s armor. “What’d you do to them?”
Albion held his arms out to both sides. “I have done nothing. Oberon told Nyx to take them to the repository.”
Swul released Albion. “That don’t make much sense.”
“Agreed. But if you are not responsible for the foundling’s death, then that means today has been quite a day for visitors.”
“Aw hell,” muttered Swul. “C’mon, we gotta get to the repository!”
“What is it?” asked Albion.
“My buddies an’ me ain’t the only ones after Oberon’s stone!”
Unlike before, no extra soldiers were needed to carry Zarim, Ekala, and Tanus to the tall structure that lay just outside the city’s limits. From the castle, a simple spell cast by Oberon acted as an invisible platform, carrying the three behind him and Nyx as they flew to their destination. Behind the city was a small mountain, with a gap leading into a cave. This was the access point of the repository, a treasure trove of Oberon’s most valued artifacts. Beautiful jewels, weaponry both deadly and ancient, dusty old tomes that contained forbidden knowledge about the distant past, charms of varying magical potency, all this and more were stored down in this vault.
Inside, the low corridors were a bit difficult for the humans to move through, particularly Tanus, who had to practically crawl in order to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling. They came to a vestibule before the door, and Ekala’s thieving eyes enabled her to notice before her partners that there were no locks or handles.
“How is it supposed to open?” she asked.
Oberon smiled. “Child, do you really believe I would build a vault that could be opened with a simple key or combination?” He nodded to Nyx and both the faerie king and his mystic laid their hands on the surface. In tandem, they muttered an incantation in their own language, their eyes shut and their wings slowly moving. An aura surrounded their palms, extended to their entire bodies and then, the door itself. Opening their eyes and stepping back, they heard a low rumble echoed in the chamber.
“You folks do things like this often?” asked Tanus.
“Not lately,” said Ekala.
The doors slowly parted, swinging inward and revealing the vast chamber beyond. Oberon and Nyx entered first, the awed humans slowly following. All three of them found their heads turning in every direction possible to take in every square inch of the wondrous vault. Ekala found her gaze drawn by the multi-colored gems that gave off an almost-ethereal shine. Instinctively, her fingers reached out for some, but a large hand held firm to her wrist. Tanus gave her a stern glare and a simple shake of his head.
“What’s your problem?” she asked.
“We’re guests in this place, don’t screw it up.” His warning was uttered in a low voice. “Let’s just get the stone and get back to our ship. Better to not give the king a reason to doubt his generosity.”
Ekala huffed. “So I guess you’re the boss, now?”
“More like your watchdog.”
Zarim paid no attention to his crew’s quarrel. He continued to walk at a very slow pace, constantly turning his body to view a new treasure. There were swords hanging on the wall that, he knew from his studies, were centuries old, but they looked newly-forged. Tiny fingers brushed against his back and he spun to see Nyx gesturing. “This way.”
He nodded and followed her. They approached Oberon, who knelt and reached his hands into a small niche. He drew out a simple block of stone and stood. Placing his hand atop the block, he murmured an incantation and the top split open, revealing a dull, yet perfectly smooth gemstone. Zarim could feel the power emanating from within and he reached out for the stone. Once he laid his fingertips on its surface, the Soulstone awakened, pulsating with an emerald glow. He took it from its container, holding it with the same care one would lift a newborn.
“It seems your story is true, you are the ones to whom the Soulstones must be entrusted,” said Oberon.
“Fascinating and all, but maybe it’s time we head back to the ship, eh Zee?” asked Ekala. “I’m gettin’ kinda fidgety in here, if you catch my meaning...”
Zarim snickered. “Yeah, I do, babe. We got what we came here for, it’s time we head back.”
“Are you sure?” asked Nyx. “You are welcome to rest before—”
“Nyx.” She turned to her king at the sound of her name crossing his lips. He gazed upon her and lowered his head. She understood his meaning immediately. Albion and the rest of the court were clearly not pleased with the presence of mortals in the city of Nephelm, let alone in this most-sacred of places. Best to not leave those opposed to Zarim’s presence any opportunity to do something about it.
Zarim clearly took notice of this brief exchange. “We appreciate the offer, but we really need to head back. We’re still down one stone, so we need to find that and get this one to safety.”
Once they left the vault, Oberon and Nyx used their magicks to close and seal the door. Zarim cradled the Soul
stone between both hands as he walked, barely able to tear his eyes away from its glow. Its aura was almost blinding to him, making it difficult to focus on anything else. Ekala sidled up beside him, her arm dropping behind his back and reaching forward to put a firm grip on his butt. That was enough to snap Zarim from his daze and look at her.
“Good, you’re still alive.” She tossed him a wink. “Just checkin’.”
“Sorry, I know I get kinda sucked in by these things. But I can’t help it, there’s just...something about them.”
“Right, right, all your mystic stuff,” said Ekala.
“After everything we’ve been through, you still don’t believe this is real?” asked Zarim.
“Nah, you got me all wrong, Zee. I think it’s completely real. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it, does it?”
Tanus felt a tug at the corners of his lips. Despite his moral opposition to the profession of his newfound partners, he had to admit that they were beginning to grow on him. Zarim had a nobility about him not often seen in criminals. And Ekala, he hated to admit, was pretty entertaining in her own right.
Oberon stopped when they came to the entrance. “Nyx, Zarim and I must speak. Please wait outside with his allies.”
“Might as well save me some time and say it to them, too,” said Zarim. “They’ll just hear about it later.”
“So tell them later.”
“It’s fine,” said Tanus. “If it puts the King at ease, we’ll wait with Nyx.”
Zarim glanced at his lover. Ekala just shrugged. “Not a big deal. You have your little man talk.”
Tanus, Ekala, and Nyx left the cavern. Oberon waited a few moments until he was certain they were sufficiently out of earshot.
“Do you truly know what burden you’ve accepted?” asked Oberon.
“Life or death situation, fate of the world, that sound about right?” asked Zarim.
Oberon narrowed his eyes. “This is no light matter, lad. A shadow hangs over you. Your trials have barely begun.”
Zarim snickered. “Y’know, you mystic men sure love being cryptic, don’t you?”
“Whoever pursues you will be relentless. They will stop at nothing to claim the Soulstones. Are you prepared to risk not only your life but the lives of those who willingly follow you?”
“Talk about pessimistic,” said Zarim. “Look, all due respect, I really appreciate how cooperative you’ve been. We went through a lot of trouble with the last two stones. But nobody’s gonna die.”
“In war, there are always casualties.”
“Well, there you go, this isn’t a war,” said Zarim.
Oberon scoffed. “If you truly believe that, then you have no concept of what you’ve committed yourself to. But you will learn. Soon.” He turned from Zarim, exiting the cavern. Zarim followed and outside, found the others still waiting. Ekala could sense something was bothering Zarim.
“What was that all about?” she asked.
“Nothing,” said Zarim.
“So why do you look like someone pissed in your drink?”
He just shook his head. “It’s nothing. Just your typical wise man nonsense. Let’s just go back to the—”
Oberon gasped as he looked from the cavern and over Nephelm. His castle, the center of the city, had plumes of smoke emanating from the top. Nyx’s face went white. “We’re being attacked!”
“Probably by whoever’s after this.” Zarim held up the Soulstone. “Nyx, think you can manage to carry both me and Ekala?”
She nodded. “Yes, but why?”
“Because I’m about to ask Tanus to stay here with your king.” Zarim glanced at the larger man. “Think you can hold up with him?”
Tanus’ mechanical hand parted, making way for the gun barrel. “Of course.”
“I will not simply hide while my people are in danger,” said Oberon.
“Not an option,” said Zarim, handing the stone over. “You gotta keep this safe.”
“No, you must take the stone and return to your ship,” said Nyx. “They cannot take it from us if it is no longer present.”
“What, and miss all the fun?” asked Ekala.
CHAPTER 14
Nyx dropped Zarim and Ekala in front of the castle. The bodies of several soldiers already lay scattered around the entrance, a bloody trail leading to the castle doors themselves, which had been broken into. Another body flew from the entrance, landing right at Zarim’s feet. The faerie looked up at the sky pirate for a few moments, a deep gash across his chest. He took a few final, gasping breaths before the life faded from his eyes.
A voice from within the doorway of the castle spoke. “Well, it seems we are not the only visitors today.”
Zarim drew his gun and pointed at the source of the voice. Two men emerged from the entrance. One was tall and extremely thin, almost to the point of emaciation. His skin was a sickly shade of yellow and he had a scarf covering his mouth, and long white hair spilling down his back. His torso and arms were bare, save for the heavy gauntlets that adorned his forearms. Attached to the gauntlets were curved blades, which seemed impossible for a man with his physique to lift, let alone wield. The second man was slightly shorter with a broader frame. The staff he held was like two scimitars fused together at their respective hilts. He was covered from head to toe in black robes, and wearing a hood that made him look the part of an executioner.
“I will ask you this only once.” Jeske flung his arms down to his sides, shaking the blood from his blades. “Where is Oberon?”
“You just missed him.” Zarim fired.
Jeske bent backwards at his waist, the bullet flying over him. He stood upright and smiled beneath the scarf. “I suppose we’re going to do this the hard way.” The assassin held his arms out to the sides and leapt. In mid-air, he spun, moving like a top, getting closer. Zarim and Ekala jumped clear as Nyx flew up. Jeske stopped spinning and landed, turning to face his opponents.
“Nyx, do us a favor and tend to the injured. Ekala and I can handle these two.”
Nyx nodded and flew through the castle doors. Ekala glanced at Zarim, then to the two opponents. “We can handle them, huh?”
Zarim grinned. “You’re the one who said you didn’t want to miss the fun.” With his free hand, he drew his sword, the sunlight glinting off the blade’s surface. “You want the big one or the skinny one?”
Ekala looked at Holtz, who had moved into a fighting stance with his staff, then back at Jeske. “You two seemed to have bonded already, wouldn’t wanna come between that.”
“How kind of you.”
Zarim fired a few shots, but Jeske’s wiry frame and unnatural speed enabled him to easily avoid each of them. The two men closed the distance between each other, Zarim raising his sword and slicing down. Jeske blocked with one of his gauntlets, his free arm thrusting from below towards Zarim’s stomach. Zarim jumped back, firing at Jeske’s feet, forcing him to step away.
With arms spread wide, Jeske lunged. He crossed his arms, bringing the blades within striking distance of Zarim. The pirate back-flipped, the razor-edge of Jeske’s weapons slicing through Zarim’s cloak. Jeske followed, slashing with a fervent intensity. Zarim parried each attempted strike, all the while being driven back. Jeske’s ferocity was unmatched. Zarim found his arm growing tired as he was pushed nearly to the edge of the platform.
He jumped from the tall structure, just an instant before Jeske’s blade would have connected with his neck, plummeting toward the city below. Zarim went for a grappler in his belt and fired the cable at one of the adjacent platforms. His strategy was to get away from Jeske. Perhaps on one of the other platforms he’d have better luck with the gun from a distance. But what Zarim didn’t count on was Jeske’s reckless blood-thirst.
The assassin dove after Zarim, descending on him from above, with one hand grabbing the cable that snaked out from Zarim’s grappler, his other sword arm cutting the remainder. His life-line severed, Zarim continued his free-fall. He looked down, and saw the sp
ires of Nephelm drawing closer, his impact imminent. This was it. He was about to die.
Zarim’s descent stopped. He stared at the ground in disbelief, his legs simply hovering, his body ceasing to fall. He felt a tug on his shoulders and found himself being pulled upwards. Zarim looked up at his rescuer and smiled. “Knew you couldn’t stay away.”
“Shaddup,” said Swul, lifting his captain to safety. “This is just ‘cause you owe me money, so don’t get all blubbery on me.”
Jeske had somehow managed to swing up to one of the platforms. Swul circled above. “Sure you can finish this?”
“Just throw me already and help Ekala,” said Zarim.
“Suit yerself.” With both hands gripping Zarim’s collar, Swul hurled him towards Jeske. Zarim brought his sword to bear, raising it above his head. Right now, he really wished he had kept the Soulstone with him, wished he could have used that power once more like he did on Rolyeh.
Jeske smiled as he anticipated Zarim’s strike, holding his gauntlets over his head to parry the coming blow. But Zarim shifted his weight, landing to the side, and in the second it took Jeske to adjust, Zarim saw an opening, and drove his sword between Jeske’s ribs. He wrenched the blade and drew the sword out and once he did, Jeske crumpled to the ground. Zarim kicked the limp body off the platform, watching as it fell.
“It would seem you’re quite capable.” Albion spoke as he descended from above.
“Where were you?” asked Zarim.
“Tending to Nyx. Where is the King?” asked Albion.
Holtz twirled his double-bladed staff with one hand, blank, white eyes the only part of his face that was visible beneath the shadows of his black hood. Ekala stood with her knees bent, her hand resting on the boomerang holstered at her hip. Holtz rushed her, jumping over the boomerang once Ekala let it fly from her hand. His bladed staff moved in an arc, and Ekala rolled to the side, and the blade hit the ground.
The boomerang circled, flying directly toward the back of Holtz’s head. He spun at the last second, knocking it from the air with one of his blades. Holtz continued his turn, and that’s when one of Ekala’s throwing knives landed in his shoulder. He wrapped his fingers around the hilt, pulling it free, and that was just the distraction Ekala needed to cross the distance between them with a single jump, her foot striking his forehead.
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