Zollin wasn’t sure what to think. The dwarves were hardy folk. Babaz and his clansmen had faced the massive Luggart without fear or shrinking back. He couldn’t believe that Hammert and Bloc were afraid to face the Anacrid.
“They’re spiders,” Zollin said. “We’ll crush them, save the Molar clan and move on.”
“These aren’t just spiders,” Hammert said. “They’re bigger than you can imagine.”
“What are their weaknesses?” Zollin asked.
“We take out their legs,” Bloc said. “But they have eight; that’s why we need more help. Hammert and I can’t do it alone.”
“And after you take out their legs?”
“They can still bite you. Even a little nick is poisonous. We have to very carefully bludgeon them to death. Then we burn the bodies just to be sure they’re dead.”
“Alright, you two stay here.”
Before Bloc or Hammert could object, Zollin walked boldly into the large cavern. It was completely dark inside the common area of the Molar clan village. Zollin let his magic flow out in all directions, so that he could feel the spiders as they moved. The huge Anacrids didn’t stir at first. Zollin got the impression that they had feasted and were now resting. The temptation of a single person moving through their new home didn’t interest them enough to rouse them from their slumber.
Zollin held up one hand and a small flame appeared over his palm. He began to move his arm in circles around his head, as if he were twirling a lasso. The flame grew and changed color, from orange-yellow, to blue, and then to white. Then, the flame transformed into magical energy that looked like molten rock. It glowed white, was hot, thick and long. It stretched out, waving around Zollin like a long whip. He swung and twirled the energy, waiting for the spiders, which he could feel stirring.
Light from the magical molten energy flashed around the cavern which was in shambles. The goods of the dwarves in the Molar clan had been destroyed, even many of the stone tables and benches. There were blood stains on the stone floor and walls too. A few dried husks that had once been Anacrids lay curled in upon themselves. The dwarves of the Molar clan had not gone quietly, it appeared.
Then the first of the giant spiders came out into the cavern. Zollin felt it before he saw the beast. His magical senses filled the cavern, which was large, but nowhere near as massive as the Dome under the mountain. Zollin waited as the spider slowly approached. He could sense a very basic sort of magic from the Anacrids. They were magical creatures but possessed no power of their own outside their natural abilities.
Soon, there were nearly a dozen spiders all creeping toward Zollin. He could also feel Bloc and Hammert, both watching from behind a large Stalagmite, both huddled fearfully together.
Zollin lashed out at the nearest spider, extending his arm as if he were cracking his fiery whip. The molten energy lashed forward, rolling like an ocean wave, and then popping back with a crack like thunder that echoed around the cavern. A handful sized blob of the magical energy shot forward, as if it had snapped off the end of the whip. It splashed onto the spider, sizzling and burning. The coarse hair that covered the spider’s body vanished, and the black flesh erupted into flame. The spider jumped back, sailing over the other Anacrids and slamming into the wall of the cavern. Its screams echoed around the room as it thrashed around uncontrollably. The magical energy burned its way into the spider’s body until the huge beast finally died.
The other spiders began to move forward more cautiously. Some moving side to side directly in front of Zollin, others creeping around behind him. Zollin felt them all, even those watching from inside the houses and workshops of the dwarves. He let his restraint go as anger fueled the magic inside him into a roaring inferno. He cracked the magical whip over and over, first one way, then another, his body in constant movement. The spiders tried to dodge the magical energy blobs that were flying at them, but they were frightened, both by the sight of Zollin and by the ear splitting cracking sound of the magical energy. Almost every shot found its target. A few were hit on one of their long, spindly legs. The energy burned through the leg then fell to the floor. The Anacrids were adept at overcoming lost or broken limbs, so the shots to their legs didn’t stop them. Still, the blobs that landed or splashed onto their bodies were devastating.
Zollin worked his magic without hesitation, letting his magic pour into the molten whip. He could feel the heat of it causing him to sweat, but he focused on the spiders. At one point, a spider jumped from behind several of its companions. It sailed into the air and then shot down straight at Zollin. He swung his whip up and the magical energy wrapped around the spider’s body, which burst into flame. Zollin then swung the spider as if it weighed nothing. The burning spider was like a hurtling bonfire. When it crashed into the group of spiders, the body split apart sending burning shards everywhere.
Only the most cunning of spiders survived by hiding either behind the bodies of their fallen or in the inner rooms of the dwarf village. Zollin, panting and sweating, let the magical energy burn down until it was just a little flame dancing over his right shoulder, casting light in small circle around him like a torch.
“Are they all dead?” Hammert asked.
“No,” Zollin said.
“That was unbelievable,” Bloc said in awe.
“I never doubted him,” Hammert boasted.
Zollin didn’t respond. He stalked toward the remaining Anacrids. The first spider didn’t move; it just stood waiting until Zollin got close. Then it scurried forward, the light reflecting from two rows of glossy, black eyes and glinting off the large mandibles at its mouth. Zollin levitated the huge spider and hurled it across the cavern. It slammed into the floor, bouncing and rolling before coming up on its feet and rushing back toward Zollin. He silently cursed himself for his foolishness. Of course the spiders weren’t hurt by falling; all his life he’d seen little spiders fall great distances without being hurt. Zollin turned and sent a blast of blue magic toward the spider. The Anacrid tried to veer out of the way, but it wasn’t fast enough. The shock of the lightning-type magic knocked the beast back. It landed on its back, its legs curling in death, while smoke rose from the scorch marks across its body.
Zollin took his time, cornering and killing each of the huge spiders. An hour later he was exhausted, but there were no more of the giant spiders still alive. He sank down onto the floor, his back against a stone tabletop that had been overturned. Bloc and Hammert came out slowly, still fearful of the huge spider carcasses.
“Are they all dead?” Bloc asked.
“Yes,” Zollin said. “Although I can’t be sure that a few didn’t escape.”
“That was the greatest display of magic I’ve ever seen,” Bloc said.
“Have you seen a lot of magic?” Hammert asked sarcastically.
“I was a boy when Ingmar last visited our people,” Bloc shot back.
“Ingmar the cowardly,” Hammert laughed. “He was no wizard.”
“He was the last of the wizards to resist the Torr,” Bloc shot back angrily. “He was friends with my father.”
“Don’t fight,” Zollin said. “Let’s find some water.”
“We can do better than water, I’ll wager,” Hammert said.
Zollin lit the torches the dwarves had carried with them into the deep tunnels. Hammert hurried off to find food and drink, but Bloc looked around the cavern in horror. It wasn’t the huge bodies of the Anacrids that shocked him; it was the loss of the Molar clan.
“They’re all dead,” he said sadly. “A whole clan, lost forever.”
“Not all of them,” Zollin said.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that there are a lot that have been poisoned and bound up by the spiders, but they’re alive. The Anacrids didn’t kill them or the food would spoil.”
“You mean they’re alive?”
“Yes,” Zollin said. “In that storeroom over there,” he said pointing.
Bloc ran with his torch toward
the storeroom. Inside he found a mountain of small, dwarf sized cocoons. Silky spider webs had been spun around each of the survivors, wrapping them until they were completely covered. Bloc settled his torch into a wall sconce and reached for the nearest cocoon. His hands stuck to the silky threads. He pulled and pulled but couldn’t break free. He put his knee against the cocoon and then his other knee, still trying to pull his arms free of the threads.
“Help!” he shouted, just as Hammert reappeared with a small cask of Shochu beer.
“What’s he on about?” Hammert asked.
“He’s stuck to the cocoons,” Zollin said.
He couldn’t hold back a mischievous smile. Hammert giggled as he poured them both a mug of beer. They drank their entire contents down and Zollin held his mug out for more.
“You can free him, right?” Hammert asked.
“Yes.”
“And the dwarves inside the cocoons?”
“We can free them, too,” Zollin said. “I should even be able to counter the effects of the poison.”
“Excellent,” Hammert said. “It won’t hurt to knock the good king down a few notches.”
He waddled off toward the storeroom.
“What is it now, your Highness?” Hammert said in a mocking tone. “Have you lost your slippers?”
“I’m stuck,” Bloc cried out. “Help me, you old fool.”
“Hey, who are you calling old?” Hammert said. “We’re almost the same age.”
“Get in here, Hammert. Get me off this thing.”
Zollin laughed and drank three more mugs of beer. He was tired and hot. The walls of the dwarfish cave dwellings were beginning to feel like they were squeezing him. He wanted to be out in the open air, and it was hard to shake the claustrophobic feelings of panic that made it hard to breathe. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the task ahead. He needed to free the dwarves, and then they could move on. He knew they couldn’t be more than a few days away from Jute’s Yel clan. Then, he could go outside again.
He went to the store room and found Hammert pulling on Bloc, trying to free the dwarf from the spidery cocoon he was stuck to.
“You’re going to pull my arms off,” Bloc said between clenched teeth.
“I’m doing my best,” Hammert said.
“It’s not working.”
“I know that.”
“Well try something different.”
“I’ll bet I could chisel you free,” Hammert said, suddenly producing a mallet and chisel.
“Don’t even think about it, you fool,” Bloc said.
“Let me have a go at it,” Zollin said.
Hammert backed away, smiling broadly. Zollin let his magic flow into the silky threads. He heated the sections around Bloc’s hands and the little dwarf pulled his hands free, although they were covered in a gluey substance. After another minute, Bloc was completely free of the cocoon and working to get the sticky goo off his hands and legs.
Zollin then focused deeper into the cocoon. The silky strands by themselves weren’t hard to break, but all together they were very strong. Zollin had to delve deep into the strands, and pull them apart. It was tedious work, but the cocoons split open, and Hammert helped the sleeping dwarves out of their bonds. The dwarves were covered in the goo that had been on Bloc, but they had found that water and sand could scrub the goo away. Bloc and Hammert’s clothes, and that of the poisoned dwarves, were ruined though.
It was late when the dwarves were all free. None had woken, but they were alive. Zollin slept while Hammert and Bloc kept watch. After a few hours, Zollin roused himself, ate and began healing the dwarves. The poison, which rendered the dwarves unconscious, was not difficult to deal with. He flushed it though their systems and the dwarves began to come around.
“They’ll be thirsty,” he said. “They need water first, then beer.”
“Water first,” Bloc said hurrying off.
Hammert busied himself reassuring the dwarves who were waking up. Zollin stayed at his task until the dwarves of the Molar clan, slightly more than four dozen of them, were all awake. They were in shock, but they were alive. Zollin slept again, while Hammert and Bloc helped the others to take stock of what they still had in the Molar clan cavern. The huge carcasses of the Anacrids had to be disposed of. Fortunately, the dead spiders seemed to dry up and their bodies were easy to move. The dwarves piled the dead spiders in a corner of the cavern and burned them. The smell was overpowering and woke Zollin.
“We must move on,” Bloc said. “We still have a day’s travel to meet with the other clans.”
“I’ve sent messengers,” said Hammert. “Although I doubt they’re moving very fast. They’re still regaining their strength.”
“Well, let’s move,” Zollin said. “I want to get away from this smell.”
Most of the Molar clan went with them. Only a few of the oldest dwarves stayed behind to rebuild the clan cavern and spread the news of what had happened. The rest insisted on going with Zollin. He was their rescuer, and the story of his battle with Anacrids was told by Hammert and Bloc over and over again.
Chapter 18
All Brianna wanted was to be left alone. She felt like the whole world was on her shoulders. Things had been difficult with her father in Orrock, but when her mother arrived three days later with her sisters in tow, her situation became impossible.
Brianna’s mother was shown into their suite as Brianna and her father sat discussing her situation. Brianna still felt torn. She had spent the last several days with Willam. She felt the exhilaration of new love whenever she was with him. He took her places around the city she had never been, sampling the best food and wine. He showed her his plans for Yelsia, and they talked about what it would be like when he was King. His mother had passed away, so Brianna had no real example what life would be like as a queen. She tried her best to imagine it, but she never openly discussed it with Willam. The proposal was like a secret they shared; they hinted at it, but never actually talked about it.
Brianna wanted to spend time with her pride, but there were so many demands on her time. Her father wanted as much time with her as possible. He took her to visit many of the tailors in the city. She was fitted for dresses, which felt odd after so many months wearing pants on adventures with Zollin. She took him to meet her pride once, but the dragons were growing restless at being forced to stay inside the castle. Brianna tried to get the King to allow them to hunt at night when they wouldn’t be seen, but he forbade it. The dragons growled when she brought her father around, even Gyia seemed angry. They were intimidating beasts under the best of circumstances, but their throaty growls and the smoke rising from their nostrils made them even more fearsome. Her father was uncomfortable around the dragons and couldn’t understand his daughter’s connection with them.
All her circumstances worked together to make her feel like everything she knew and loved was slipping away from her. Prince Willam reassured her constantly and made her feel like anything was possible, but in the back of her mind she still longed to be with Zollin.
“Can you believe it?” her mother said to Brianna’s sisters when they were shown into the room.
At first, Brianna’s sisters seemed happy to see her, but her mother seemed indifferent. She was, as Brianna had suspected, infatuated by the luxury of the castle.
“Priam,” her father said. “We were just discussing Brianna’s options? Girls,” he said to her sisters. “Please settle into your room and give us some privacy.”
The girls, laughing and giggling, went into the third bedroom, which they would share. Brianna’s mother, Priam, smoothed her dress, and Brianna noticed it was her finest. Her father always made her mother beautiful gowns, but she had saved her finest clothes to show off in Orrock. Brianna wasn’t surprised at all; she knew how her mother felt about being noticed and admired, although she doubted that her mother’s finest would stand out in the royal court.
“Why are we here?” Priam asked.
“To see
Brianna of course,” her father said, trying not to sound disappointed that Brianna’s mother had ignored her completely.
“Oh, yes, it is good to see you again,” Priam said to Brianna.
“And you as well, Mother,” Brianna said, trying to hide the iciness in her tone.
“We have good news,” Estry said.
“It’s not news yet,” Brianna said. “I still haven’t made my decision.”
Her father ignored her. “The King has asked to make a match with Brianna and Prince Willam.”
Brianna’s mother brought her fist to her lips and tears glistened in her eyes.
“What is the bride price?” she asked.
“Mother,” Brianna said. “I’m not cattle for you to sell. I’m a woman, and you don’t own me. I make my own decisions.”
“You’ve made a mess of your decisions,” Priam snapped. “Your husband was killed; do you know that? Do you even care? Did you mourn him? Did you consider what people would think of us when you ran away with a sorcerer? Or how your father would make a living when people refused to do business with him because of you?”
“Father,” Brianna said. “Is that true?”
“Or how people would react to a dragon being set loose on the countryside by your friend? Do you think we haven’t heard of his exploits as he gallivanted around the countryside?”
“We haven’t heard anything about Brianna, Priam,” Estry said. “I won’t have the two of you fighting.”
“It’s time she learned to respect us,” Priam said. “We spoiled her and this is the thanks we get for all our sacrifices.”
“You sacrificed nothing!” Brianna shouted. “We were your slaves, Mother. You sat preening, while my sisters and I did all the work.”
“Brianna, that’s uncalled for,” her father said.
“But it’s true.”
“You ungrateful, little bitch,” her mother said.
That was the last straw for Brianna. Flames erupted from her hands, burning up the long sleeved gown she wore. Her eyes shone in the heat, and her mother and father were sent stumbling back from her.
Five Kingdoms: Book 06 - Evil Tide Page 17
