Curse Of The Dark Wind (Book 6)

by Charles E Yallowitz

  “The privacy has been nice, but I miss the open road. It feels like I’ve been sitting for too long,” Luke admits, serving himself a large bowl of soup. He slurps up a spoonful of crimson noodles, covering his mouth when he burps. “Our enemies are plotting while we repair the damage they caused. At this rate, we’ll always be on the defensive.”

  Sari pokes at a leafy salad and adds shreds of chicken to it before taking her first bite. “Nyx said the same thing when I last talked to her. Though we’ve been behind since the beginning of our adventures. In the end, we’ll win and live happily ever after.”

  “At least those of us that survive.”

  The pair pause and stare at their food, Luke’s words hanging in the silence. It has been the first time either of them have mentioned the fact that at least one champion will die in the final battle. Coming from the half-Elven warrior, it is a heart-stopping statement since he has been the most vocal about free will. Swallowing another mouthful of noodles, Luke reaches over to touch Sari’s quivering hand.

  “I swear I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure we all survive,” he promises with a warm smile. “Let’s enjoy the rest of the day and I’ll fly us to Gaia at dawn.”

  Sari puts her hands on the table and brings it to life, the gypsy directing it to walk out of the dining room. A forlorn look on his face, Luke watches helplessly as his meal escapes into the wide hallway. The growl of his stomach urges him to stand, but he cannot do any more than wavering on his feet. He is shaken out of his shock when his companion takes him by the wrist and gently leads him toward the large doors.

  “You’re being mean,” he whimpers as they leave the room. The table is far in the distance, turning toward a flight of stairs. “The food is going to fall on the floor.”

  “I froze everything to the top and told the table to go to the hot spring,” Sari says with a mischievous grin. Letting go of Luke’s hand, she gracefully dances away and sticks out her tongue. “The challenge, lover, is to get there before I do. If I get to the lower level hot spring first, you get whatever food I feel like giving you. If you get there first, you get me and the food without question. Do we have a-”

  Luke transforms into the griffin and charges down the hallway, screeching as she turns to go up the stairwell. Her amber fur shimmers with renewed energy, but brown feathers are molting off her head and wings. The sound of a large impact in the distance causes the gypsy to groan and prepare herself to fix a fresh dent in the wall.

  “I wish I knew if he was more excited about me or the food. Then again, do I really care? I just don’t want this feeling to end.” Sari mutters as she steps into a doorway and dives into the ice slides.

  2

  The sun is still freeing itself from the horizon as Timoran sits on the outer wall of Rainbow Tower. His breath mists the air in front of him, mixing with the light snow that is still falling from a patch of gray clouds. With a tired sigh, he pulls the Compass Key out of the belt holster Willow and Nyx forged for him. The chestnut-colored box snaps closed, the lid sealing with the hiss of a heat spell. The noise makes the barbarian cringe and the fear of his pants catching fire briefly flickers in his mind. Timoran calms down by examining the silver chain dangling from the amulet, but his strong mistrust of magic prevents him from putting it around his neck. He wraps the links around his fingers until the relic sits comfortably in his palm, his skin becoming clammy when the pearl glistens in the morning light.

  “Are you going to be okay?” Luke asks from the ground. The shirtless half-elf is covered in sweat from his morning run and his breath is appearing in rapid puffs. “You look like you’re going to faint, Timoran. Not a good idea if you’re up there.”

  “I will be fine, my friend. You are going to freeze to death like that. Go inside and get warm.”

  Luke shoves his arm into a small, nondescript pouch on his belt, his limb going in up to his elbow. He notices Timoran is turning away as he gets a fresh shirt and a thick coat from the enchanted bag. It takes very little time for him to get dressed, but he cringes when the fabric sticks to his sweaty skin. Ignoring the uncomfortable sensation, he swiftly climbs the wall and takes a seat next to the large warrior. His eyes fall to the Compass Key and he stares at it with a child-like curiosity.

  “This is the first time I’ve gotten a good look at it,” the half-elf says, admiring the smooth jewels surrounding beautiful pearl. “Amazing how this was sitting under Gaia this whole time and none of the other champions ever found it. Though I guess any who tried could have been killed by that spectral cockatrice or the ghosts.”

  “There were very few bodies. I have had dark thoughts about that, but I do not know how you will take to it,” Timoran mentions, subtly moving the relic out of his friend’s reach. His brow creases as he lets his festering worries come to the surface. “I would have talked to Nyx or Delvin about this, but they are busy. Both of them have become obsessed with planning for our next encounter with Stephen. He put a fright into them, which has yet to weaken even after all these months. Perhaps it is best that I keep these thoughts to myself.”

  “Not after making me curious,” the forest tracker insists. He draws a flask from his belt pouch and takes a quick drink, feeling his body warm up from the liquid. “Is this about how it’s strange that we’ve been given an artifact lost during the Great Cataclysm while all previous champions seem to have gone without it?”

  “Again I forget how observant and insightful you can be,” the barbarian says, chuckling and slapping Luke on the back with enough force to knock him off. He catches his friend by the collar, pulling him back onto the wall. “We saw how the Compass Key opened up the island temple. It is safe to assume it does the same for the others. So how did Gabriel expect the previous champions to get inside without this? They would have been denied at the door, leaving them to follow false trails until the Baron’s agents picked them off. Something does not seem right about this.”

  “Unless the gods decide to tell us, we’re never going to know,” Luke claims, shifting uncomfortably. He gets to his feet and stretches his legs, the slippery wall not hindering his balance. “There are a lot of possibilities. Previous champions could have started at a different temple and found their way in through a crack in the defenses. If the Baron’s agents can slip corruptive forces into these places then one can assume there are other entrances. For example, the Island of Pallice could have been accessed by using water breathing magic. Although, the monsters would have devoured the champions before they got inside. Another possibility is that the Compass Key magically returns to Gaia whenever the champions are defeated.”

  Timoran turns the mysterious relic over in his hands, catching a glint of light off the piece of obsidian. He rubs the gem with his thumb, the feel of it oddly comforting even though his mind is reminding him about his fear of magic. With a shake of his head, he breaks his trance and wipes the gathered snow off his lap.

  “If the Compass Key returned to the prison we found it in then the monsters and barriers would not have been there,” the large man whispers, a deep frown on his face. He rubs one of the scars on his body as he thinks back to his time in the ruins beneath Gaia. “Nobody had been there for centuries. I am sure of that. It is possible that the gods lost track of this item after the world changed. According to the scholars, many species and cities were destroyed, so a prison would not have been a priority to our ancestors.”

  “You realize we’re never going to find an answer. At least not now,” the shivering half-elf says, taking another sip from his flask. He shudders and winces as if the liquid is causing him pain. “Sari loves this fae water, but it’s so sweet. It gets worse with every taste too. I can’t feel my teeth after that last shot. At least it cleans my body and keeps me warm.”

  Timoran stands and shakes the snow out of his hair. “That is why barbarians use Ifrit mead.”

  “I’m trying to cut back.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “I felt like I was spendin
g too much free time drinking,” Luke answers while stretching his arms and jumping in place. Several of his joints pop from the movement, forcing him to stop and groan. “I need to stay in shape and get stronger, which won’t happen if I spend all my time in a tavern. No offense, Timoran, since I know drinking is very important to your people. I simply have to cut back and avoid getting myself drunk to the point of blacking out.”

  “It takes a wise man to admit his limits and work to stay within them,” the barbarian claims with a small bow. He places a gentle hand on his friend’s shoulder and smiles. “I will make sure to keep you on the right path and stop you from going too far. Now I suggest we go inside where it is warm. We hope to depart by mid-morning and you need a bath.”

  “We know where the next temple is?”

  Timoran holds the Compass Key toward the sun, half-heartedly hoping something will happen. “No. The plan is to return to the Caster Swamp and search the Lich’s castle for information. It is possible that he knew the locations, but could do nothing without the Compass Key. It is a long shot, but it is all we have at this time.”

  “Nyx still can’t figure the Compass Key out? Bet she’s furious about that,” Luke says with a smirk. He glances at Timoran and rubs his hands together, feeling a tingling numbness in his fingertips. “You know, my friend, I haven’t held the Compass Key yet. Maybe I can figure it out since everyone else has failed. I promise not to set anything off or tell Nyx that you let me touch it. I don’t know why she thinks I can cause trouble with the thing.”

  “You cannot do any worse than Nyx,” the large man states, handing the artifact over to the other warrior.

  With a yelp of shock, Luke is launched off the wall and whipped through the air as if an invisible beast is trying to shake him off. He holds onto the Compass Key with as much strength as he can muster in his cold hands, his knuckles aching. Fearing that he will fall or lose the relic, he wraps its chain around his hand. The half-elf can see Timoran rushing to get underneath him, the barbarian holding out his arms in case his friend slips. Spinning Luke like a small tornado, the Compass Key flies at Rainbow Tower and knocks him against the wall. Groaning in pain, the young warrior desperately tries to stop his face from being dragged along the smooth, colorful stones. His thick jacket and shirt are barely able to protect his skin from getting shredded against the tower.

  “What is going on out here?” Nyx asks, covering herself with fire to stay warm in her short-sleeved shirt and thin pants. She glances up in time to see Luke diving at her, the caster killing off her flames and ducking to avoid getting hit. “How can you fly without wings, little brother? Not that you seem to have any control.”

  “He is holding the Compass Key!” Timoran shouts as he hurries across the garden. “I gave it to him since he had yet to examine it. Then it dragged him into the sky. Maybe the Compass Key reacts to whichever champion’s temple is closest and it just so happens to be Luke.”

  “Could even be an order to the temples,” Nyx says, rubbing the points of her ears. She runs her hands along her clothes to transform them into those better suited for winter, a pair of flames flickering on her shirt’s lapels. “If Luke lets go near the ground or the roof, he’ll be fine and the Compass Key will deactivate.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “No.”

  Nyx transforms into mist as Luke is taken towards the top of Rainbow Tower, his body moving like a limp doll in a hurricane. As the relic arches over the roof to dive at the ground, the forest tracker slams his feet against the back of a turret. He pulls back with all of his strength, his arm feeling like it is about to be ripped from his shoulder. Luke nearly slips before a pair of slender arms wraps around his waist and lock him in place.

  “I got you, lover,” Sari whispers, her power of immovability preventing both of them from moving. She worries when Luke begins slowly bending in half, the half-elf grunting and whimpering. “I have him pinned, but he’s still getting pulled! A little help, Nyxie! Move quickly before this gets messy! Oh, please don’t let this get messy.”

  “Relax and focus on the Compass Key,” Nyx says as she solidifies on the rooftop. She ducks under a streaking comet and ignores the frown from Sari. “I can’t do anything. It’s attuned to Luke and my aura could hurt him with a backlash. He has to use his own power.”

  “I’m focusing and it isn’t working,” the forest tracker growls, wriggling to get out of the gypsy’s unbreakable grip. “Let me go and shout orders at me. I can handle flying around better than my arm getting torn off.”

  Nyx is flung to the ground when the trapdoor beneath her feet is thrown open. Delvin scrambles out of the opening, the warrior panting and barely clothed. He pauses when he sees the enraged expression on Nyx’s face, the caster rubbing her aching side. Holding up his hands, he backs up until he is standing next to Luke and Sari. The warrior notices the gypsy smiling at his bare chest and simple underwear, the expression one of approval instead of attraction. He pushes the observation out of his mind while he focuses on Luke who is trying to pry Sari’s arms off his waist.

  “Each gem around the edge must signify a champion,” Delvin quickly explains, reaching over to grab the half-elf’s wrist. He helps pull the relic back in the hopes of relieving the pressure on his friend’s arm. “Given its core connection to the champions, the Compass Key had to have been made during the times when elements were used as a basis for powers. For example, Nyx is fire and is symbolized by the ruby. It’s obvious that the thing is reacting to Luke, but he might have to focus on his gem in order to control it. If he’s trying to work the entire relic then it’s lashing out in confusion.”

  “Focusing on all six is what’s causing the problem,” Nyx whispers, getting to her feet and wiping snow from her pants. “If we’re going by elements then Luke is air, which means either the sapphire or the diamond.”

  “He’s also a forest tracker, so he could be the emerald,” Sari chimes in, adjusting her grip when she hears his pants start to rip. As soon as she eases her hold, the Compass Key yanks Luke away, carrying him and Delvin off the rooftop. “I don’t think they’re going to last much longer.”

  “Pick a gem and focus, Luke,” Delvin suggests, slipping and catching the half-elf by the ankles. “You’re not the obsidian or the ruby. Sari is probably the sapphire. I don’t know enough about gemology to think of a solid answer. Go for the emerald!”

  “Are you sure?”

  “No, but what’s the worst that could happen?”

  “Death.”

  “Fine. I owe you a meal if it gets us killed. Just do something!”

  Luke focuses on the green sphere and feels his body tingle. The jerky movements of the Compass Key stop and it gently lowers the champions to where Timoran is waiting. Delvin breathes a sigh of relief when he touches the solid earth, falling to his knees and rolling onto his back. Luke hovers a few inches off the ground, the Compass Key glowing in his hands and the gems steadily rotating around the central pearl. Emitting a dull hum, a flash of light bursts from the relic and shows an image of a forked mountain. His hands numb and bleeding, Luke drops the amulet and the illusion flickers away.

  “How did you know it was the emerald?” Nyx asks, holding onto Sari as they drift to the ground. “Picking the wrong one could have gotten you killed.”

  “You’re going to hate me for the answer,” Delvin replies, standing and rubbing his sore arms. He shrugs when the young woman glares at him, her expression urging him to reveal his secret. “The emerald matches Luke’s eyes.”

  “That’s so sweet,” Sari coos, giving the forest tracker a kiss on the lips. “I’m going to like traveling with him, Nyxie. Make sure he stays. You can even make it clothing optional.”

  “So where are we going?” the caster asks, blushing slightly.

  Luke hands the Compass Key back to Timoran, who begrudgingly takes it. The half-elf cracks his sore neck and flexes his arms while recalling the image. Everyone is waiting for him to speak as the snowstorm gr
ows a little stronger. Luke shivers when some of the snow falls down the back of his jacket, forcing him to pull his hood over his head.

  “I saw a forked mountain, which looked vaguely familiar,” the forest tracker slowly answers, letting his bard’s memory draw the information from his mind. “I saw it once on a map of my grandfather’s and it was to the northeast of Gaia and the northwest of Vorgabog. I think it used to be part of the Guldrack Mountains before the Battle of Giants isolated it from the rest of the range. We can travel along the river for two weeks or so before going north. Trying really hard to remember the name, but the cold is making my brain sluggish.”

  “It’s the Widowhorn,” Delvin states, blowing on his chilled hands. He rubs them around his chest, hoping to stave off the cold that is blossoming in his body. “It isn’t a difficult climb, but the camouflaged vipers and horned spiders make it deadly. I know a path that will get us there in a week and a half barring any severe delays.”

  “How big are these horned spiders?” Luke nervously asks.

  “Big enough for Timoran to ride comfortably,” the brown-haired warrior answers. He notices the half-elf make an exaggerated gulp and quickly thinks of a way to ease his friend’s nerves. “They’re found between the peaks, so we shouldn’t have a problem. Even if we have to go into that area, they’re rather docile in the winter.”

  “Let’s get moving!” Nyx shouts, walking behind Luke and pushing him toward the tower. She mutters a word in ancient Dwarven, which opens a doorway in the shimmering stone. “If we run into the scary spiders, big sister will incinerate them. Now go take a bath and get ready to leave, fearless hero.”

  Delvin watches the others leave and strokes his chin. “I think I need to talk to Fizzle about a secret mission.”

  *****

  General Vile trudges through the knee high snow, grumbling about the cold seeping into his thick boots. His mood improves slightly when he comes across a smoking fire pit and green tent sitting beneath the naked oaks. The simple camp looks abandoned, but he can hear the sound of voices coming from the narrow enclosure. Pushing the flap open and stepping inside, the halfling wipes his feet on the thick mat at the entrance. The interior is the size of a small wooden cabin with smokeless lanterns dangling from the ceiling and comfortable furniture that has been lovingly maintained. Removing his boots, General Vile walks down the short hallway and listens for Stephen and Trinity. The sound of shifting bodies carries him through an open kitchen and to a locked door, a lightning spell crackling around the doorknob.