The Children of the Light: Book 1: Spirit Summoner

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The Children of the Light: Book 1: Spirit Summoner Page 14

by Matt Campbell


  After a while, Jinn drifted off to sleep, leaving Darr and Erec alone with the sound of the Lourcient River to remind them of the outside world.

  “It’s a beautiful night for being so late in the fall,” Erec said. He looked up through the canopy of hemlock limbs to the black sky beyond. “It’s warm...”

  Erec’s voice trailed off, leaving them surrounded in uncomfortable silence once more. His brother was attempting to make peace, to say something encouraging. He knew Erec well enough to read into his words and movements. He understood how his seemingly insignificant gestures were really meant for the emotions he couldn’t bring himself to display.

  “Thank you, Erec,” Darr told him, smiling.

  “Thanks for what?”

  The Summoner shifted, stalling in order to choose his words carefully. “For coming along and watching out for me, and for being a big brother exactly when you should. You’ll see things I may not, and I respect you for that, whether you’re right or wrong in the matter.”

  For a moment, it looked like Erec might lash out, but he grinned and shook his head. Darr breathed a silent sigh of relief. With Erec, he could never tell what kind of response he’d get.

  * * * *

  Darr recognized the vision of the towering castle, the gardens of indescribable beauty, and the walls of stone and thorns surrounding them all. He’d seen this landscape before in his dreams, though when and in what context, he could’t recall.

  The Summoner wondered whether he dreamed the experience, or if he somehow drifted through the Currents in his sleep. His thoughts scattered instantly upon having them. The familiar images became clearer.

  Gardens surrounded in thorns rose up, their beauty filling every one of his senses. The wall of thorns emerged in sharp contrast, wicked and piercing, twisting along the border of the garden. They appeared far away and non-threatening. As a spectator, Darr observed the flow of images, a hindrance to nothing. Next came the massive single-towered castle, a dark obelisk shrouded in ivy, pitched in defiance against the sky.

  The elders appeared, men whose wisdom Darr sensed instinctively. They gathered along the paths winding through the garden. They spoke in low tones while two men argued on the front steps of the castle.

  Darr walked along one of the paths, no longer a spectator but a participant, his own ears two of the many straining to hear the conversation between the two arguing men. He edged his way along the periphery of the gardens making his way towards the lone spire, trying to make out the voices of the arguing men. After a moment, the men came into view through a break in the shrubbery--one dressed all in black, the other in regal white.

  The whispered words of the two men were indistinct. He strained his ears harder. “Prolonging of life,” was all Darr heard.

  The man in black erupted with anger as he began arguing vehemently with the regal-looking man. His words became distorted, but strength and fierceness radiated from both men. When it ended, the man in black wheeled about and stormed off through the gardens.

  When the man in black approached the wall that marked the barrier of thorns, he turned and fixed his gaze, filled with hate, on Darr.

  The Summoner gasped in shock and stumbled backwards. He braced for the impact of the ground, but nothing came. He opened his eyes a pinch and saw nothing but black. He stood upright, but no ground lay beneath his feet or sky above his head to determine where or in which direction he stood.

  A voice called out, a gentle urging of his name. Darr looked in the direction of the voice, and Erec appeared before him, his features clear. The Summoner blinked in confusion. Erec gave him a sad smile. He turned and walked away. Darr called out to him. When Erec didn’t stop, the Summoner ran after him. His brother’s pace was faster somehow. Darr rushed ahead, intent on catching his brother, but Erec receded further into the dark.

  In the moment before waking, Erec vanished into the all encompassing black, leaving Darr to ponder what had happened.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Even in the face of such catastrophe, Caeranol had a plan. Using power unique to the Ancients, Caeranol forged a talisman called the Azlude that would erode the Devoid’s defenses. Along with a handful of his most powerful elders, including his apprentice, Damon, Caeranol confronted the Devoid a second time. The Azlude worked exactly as it should have, but the onslaught of magical power released by the Devoid in its defense was unimaginable. The energies obliterated Damon and several other elders. The Azlude, while indestructible, was not immune to the Devoid’s deceptive magic, and it disappeared from the battlefield, changed into something else entirely. Caeranol remained alive, protected from the Devoid by the spirits for reasons he didn’t understand.”

  ~From A Current History of Ictar, as told by Nidic Waq

  Darr woke sore and disgruntled. For the last few hours before dawn, he spent his time staring up at the stars and thinking over the images of his dream and what they might mean. When morning appeared, the images lost their edge and faded into the ether. By the time Jinn and Erec awoke, it didn’t matter anymore.

  “So how are we getting to Arcnor and the Earth Sephir?” Jinn asked over their breakfast.

  Darr wasn’t sure when he answered. “The easiest route would take us west through the Ruk Mountains and into Kurflin. It seems like the most obvious approach.”

  “Obvious, yes,” Erec said, “and that’s exactly what the Soul Seekers would be hoping for. The road to Kurflin is just that, a road. It’s wide open and anyone would see you coming for miles, especially the Seekers.”

  “We could take a boat from Dis,” Jinn joked, her mouth askew with sarcasm.

  Darr laughed and shook his head. “Those boats don’t take buttons and lint as currency,” he said. The joke wasn’t a good one. Avoiding the Soul Seekers on their way to the Earth Sephir might not be possible.

  “We could go to Conra for help,” Erec suggested in seriousness. “Conra knows the way through the Barricade Mountains and the lands beyond. With his guidance, we could reach the Dwarves in a week.”

  “But Conra doesn’t leave his cabin anymore,” Jinn said. “We’d have to go through the swamps to get to him and we don’t know the way.”

  “Yes I do. I remember the way from when Father took me a few years back.”

  Darr could tell right away that Erec wouldn’t be backing down. He’d made it clear that he would protect his siblings. If going in search of Conra might keep them out of the sights of the Soul Seekers, his brother would steer them that direction.

  “How sure are you?” Darr asked his brother.

  Erec didn’t appear uncertain when he answered. “I know the way. I remember it clearly.”

  At his side, Jinn looked doubtful, but Darr trusted his brother. “Fine,” Darr said. “We’ll go find Conra. It’ll be good to see him again anyway.”

  With cold, but favorable weather, Erec led them in single file. They rode along the river until they found shallows suitable to cross. Once they reached the southern side of the river, Erec took them east towards the coastline. They didn’t push their horses any harder than they needed to, and rested them when necessary.

  “I wish we could’ve seen Father before leaving,” Jinn said during a quiet stretch in the morning.

  From the front of their procession, Erec said, “I do too, Jinn, but the old man’s always been good about focusing on what’s right in front of him. He’s got Arn to help him and the store to keep him busy. He probably won’t even remember where we’ve gone once he gets back into the swing of things.”

  Darr doubted Erec was right about that, but he knew his brother was only trying to comfort Jinn. Although, maybe there was a way to check on the old man. Racall had told him he could locate people through the Currents, but he didn’t have the slightest idea how.

  As they traveled the coastline of the Arktary Ocean, he made numerous endeavors to search the Currents while riding alongside his siblings. He dove into the spirit realm when they broke their conversations, but the attempt
s often left him empty-handed and disoriented when he emerged. He tried again when they stopped for the night, but the spirit realm proved too vast and uncharted for him to single out one man. Any contact with their father would have to wait.

  After another day of steady riding, they reached the edge of the Lowlands of Deron. The lowlands were a huge, bowl-shaped valley sunk deep into the plains, its marshy depths hidden in fog and gnarled foliage.

  Erec climbed down from his horse and began removing its saddle.

  “What’re you doing?” Jinn asked from atop her mount.

  “We can’t take the horses down there,” Erec answered without looking up. “We’ll have to strip them of this gear and set them free. If we send them east, towards Dis, someone will find them.”

  His brother had a point. Even if they got the horses through the lowlands, they wouldn’t be able to take them into the mountains beyond. It would be best for the horses to simply send them away.

  “How long will it take us to get through there?” Jinn asked, staring warily into the fog below.

  Erec scanned the horizon beyond the murky bowl. The Barricade Mountains rose up as an impenetrable wall not more than a few miles away, though they looked far off. “It’s almost noon, but I think we can get through today if we’re quick about it. When Father and I passed through here, it only took us a day.”

  Darr’s stomach tightened. “You’re sure you know the way?” he asked.

  Erec chuckled. “Of course. Now come on, we’re burning daylight standing out here talking about it.”

  Darr and Jinn followed their brother as he picked a hidden trail leading down into the bowl of the lowlands. The fog enclosed them, shutting out a good portion of the light and giving them chills that couldn’t be dispersed. Darr pulled his cloak tight about his body, but it didn’t help. They could do nothing but shake with cold while still trying to maneuver through the slick terrain. The swamps of the lowlands spread out around them--glassy green pools of water lined with saw grass and twisted, dying trees. The landscape of the lowlands contained only mud and mire, slowing their pace considerably.

  A couple of hours after they departed the edge of the lowlands, darkness fell so quickly it left them in mild shock. No one could tell how close they were to the edge of the swamp, but Erec continued to lead undaunted, picking out a path through the dim light. Jinn came up close to Darr, her small form pressed close against him as the darkness engulfed them.

  Darr thought about his brother’s words about the lowlands being more treacherous during the winter. He wouldn’t want to consider coming down here then. The predatory nature of the place affected his senses. Animal sounds off in the distance would suddenly cut short when something bigger and stronger claimed its life. The surrounding swamp water bubbled in places, hiding creatures laying in wait to trap their next victim. Even the insects buzzing incessantly around him were predators coming to feed off the flesh intruding on their land. Darr tried to shut out the sounds and concentrate on the path in front of him, avoiding the feel of the mire altogether.

  They followed Erec until it became too dark to see anything except a vague outline of his body. Erec stopped in his tracks, and his head and shoulders slumped.

  “We’re lost,” he said, not bothering to turn around.

  Jinn’s body tensed as she prepared to lash out, but the Summoner gripped her shoulder, holding her in place. He approached his brother calmly, keeping Jinn separated to prevent a bad situation from becoming worse. “Do you have any idea where we’re at?”

  Erec hesitated, then nodded. “I think so, but things have changed a lot since I came here as a boy.”

  “We need to make a torch,” Darr said, keeping his voice steady. “We’ll keep going for another hour. If we don’t make it out, we’ll have to stay here for the night.”

  “No, Darr, we can’t,” Jinn protested.

  “I agree,” Erec said flatly. “There are things in this place that will...”

  Darr broke both their arguments off. “There are worse things out at night that will come looking for signs of life. Soul Seekers. I don’t feel like attracting their attention.”

  Without waiting for a response, Darr cast about for a green branch. He found one, tore it down, and went through his pack looking for his flint and his knife. He cut a woolen strip off his blanket and bound it tight about the end of the branch, coated the end in sap from the tree, and used his flint to ignite it. A bright orange flame sprung to life, eating greedily at the sap covered blanket. The flame wouldn’t last long. Darr passed the torch to Erec, and encased in the orange glow, he trudged through the lowlands once more.

  They hadn’t been moving more than a few minutes when they heard a hollow splashing sound, like a large stone dropped into a pond. Erec brought them all to a halt and they stared into the darkness of the swamp, waiting for the sound to come again. Nothing happened, so they continued onward. The splashing sound came again, this time much closer. Erec wheeled about, drawing his sword in one fluid motion.

  Darr peered past the bright halo of the torch, but only shadow presented itself. Jinn looked too, her face intense with concentration.

  “I think something’s out there,” she whispered.

  The Summoner was nodding in agreement when the spirits whispered with gentle precision.

  --Hurt you, Summoner--

  --Get back--

  --Bad things--

  --Want to hurt you--

  --Get Back--

  The splashing sound came again, this time close enough to drench the Summoner and his siblings with the stale swamp water.

  “Get back!” Darr screamed, realizing it was too late.

  A nest of snaking tentacles came shooting out of the darkness in front of them. Jinn screamed out as both her leg and torso were caught up. A slimy tendril tightened around Darr’s arm. Erec rushed over to them, but he fell face first into the mud with both legs snared. His sword and the torch flew into the dark.

  In the dim light of the dying torch, something huge rose up out of the darkness before them, dripping and oozing the fetid water of the lowlands. Tentacles snapped wildly out from its corpulent body. It came into view, a giant, tooth-riddled maw split wide emitting an eerie cry.

  Erec grasped for his sword, but the creature sensed his movement. It flung him about with uncanny strength, beating him against the ground, dragging him towards its jaws. Jinn freed her hunting knife and severed the tentacle around her waist. She launched herself forward and sliced through the tentacles on Darr’s arm, freeing the Summoner so he could go to his brother’s aid. The creature responded with a barrage of its whip-like appendages flailing across the clearing. Jinn fell away, stricken, and a tentacle wrapped about Darr again, squeezing tight.

  The Summoner tried to connect with the Currents, but his concentration failed with every struggled breath.

  “Darn crawlers,” someone grumbled from out of the darkness.

  An iron crossbow bolt flew through the air, whizzing mere inches from the top of his head. The bolt buried itself deep within the creature’s body, and it cried out in pain.

  Again the voice shouted out, “To chaos with ya!” And another bolt buried itself in the creature’s bulbous form.

  With a painful cry, the creature released the tentacles binding Darr and his siblings. With the same dunking, splashing sound that had brought it, the creature sunk back down into the swamp waters in retreat. Darr looked up dazedly from the ground and took in a huge gulp of air. Erec picked himself up from out of the muck, and Jinn lay in a tangled heap several feet away, muttering in indignation.

  Two strong leather boots clumped down in the mud before Darr. He followed the boots up to a set of thin legs and waist, getting the make of the man who had rescued them. He didn’t wear a coat or forest cloak, dressed only in woodsman garb. Darr looked up into the man’s weather-browned wrinkled face, and saw something else--pointed ears and sharp eyes hidden slightly behind his shaggy gray hair.

  “Fool
s,” the Elf rasped. “What do you think you’re doing traveling the lowlands at this time of night? And taking on a crawler no less. You’re lucky I saw your light. That thing would’ve killed the lot of you.”

  The Summoner smiled at the old Elf. It would be interesting getting to know Conra again.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “In retaliation, the Devoid unleashed a sickness to disable the Ancients, making them easy victims for the Soul Seekers. The Ancients’ population dwindled. Caeranol gathered his remaining brethren and barricaded them within a mountain range, temporarily shielding them from the Devoids. Using their knowledge of the Currents and science, the Ancients devised a way to depart their land, allowing them to be free of the Devoid’s destruction. But where would that leave the lesser races of the land? What about the Sephirs and their Archons? Who would protect them from the Devoid’s hunger?”

  ~From A Current History of Ictar, as told by Nidic Waq

  Darr sat on the floor of Conra’s cabin, wrapped tightly in a blanket while sipping a cup of ale. Beside him, Erec sat next to the stone hearth, a fire crackling within its open maw. The small cabin contained a table, a few chairs, and a small bed tucked into a nook in the corner beside the hearth. Shelves filled with odd trinkets lined the wall beside the kitchen. Darr stared at the strange objects and tried to decipher their origin without success.

  Conra applied a healing salve to Jinn’s shoulder in silence. The tentacles of the crawler had left a series of abrasions along her arm. The injuries were nothing major, but the Elf insisted on treating them. When Conra finished binding the wound with a fresh bandage, he got up with a wink to Darr and disappeared into the shadows of his kitchen.

  For his age, the Elf appeared strong. Conra had to be nearly seventy years old, yet he lived alone on the fringes of the most dangerous country in Ictar. He’d dispatched the crawler with little more than a second thought, and despite his protests about his weakening eyesight, he led them safely through the Lowlands of Deron in near darkness.

 

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