Chaos Descending

by Toby Neighbors

  Zollin tried not to think about how badly his heart ached. He had never understood why Brianna loved him in the first place, although he'd fought for that love. Still, in many ways she had not been faithful to him. He cursed himself for putting the needs of the kingdoms above her. At the same time, he knew that if Gwendolyn the witch had succeeded in her plans, she would not only have destroyed the Five Kingdoms, she would have hunted him down mercilessly. Stopping the witch and her demonic spirit of destruction had given them a space to be together.

  He couldn't understand why things had changed so much between himself and Brianna. She had seemed just as happy to be away from the danger and constant problems that plagued that entire first year of their relationship as he had been. She had seemed more distant lately, but he'd attributed that to the pregnancy. Perhaps not taking the crown of Yelsia was a mistake, but Zollin knew he would have been miserable in that role. He couldn't imagine having to deal with an entire kingdom’s worth of problems, but maybe Brianna had wanted to be a queen more than she had let on. She had broken her pledge to Zollin when she agreed to marry Prince Willam in order to save her family. That news had been like a dagger of fire in his heart, and the way he felt now as he slowly explored the low-roofed dwarf tunnels was almost as bad. She'd admitted that she had feelings for the prince; perhaps it was the allure of being queen that had caused her heart to wander.

  Zollin pushed aside all of his feelings and fears for his marriage, instead choosing to focus on the problem of the dwarves. There was no sign of the people under the mountain. The tunnels were dark and empty as Zollin walked through them. He stopped several times, listening. He kept hearing something that sounded like the shuffling of padded feet, but when he tried to listen for the sound, it always stopped and all he could hear was the crackle from his torch.

  He was wondering just how far he dared to go into the dark tunnels when he finally came upon another large cavern. There were carvings on the walls of the dome-like space. It was a natural cavern, with stalactites hanging from the tall, arching roof, and stalagmites sprouting up from the otherwise smooth stone floor. It was a holy place to the dwarves, one of the caverns he had heard about but never visited. Zollin was trying to decide if he should stop and rest for a while before pushing on. His body ached, his shoulders and back burned, his legs were still shaky and his feet hurt. But more than anything, he was worried about getting lost. He rubbed the torch against the wall of the tunnel he'd come out of when he entered the sacred cavern. The torch sputtered; it was close to burning out already and left a dark smudge on the otherwise reddish brown stone.

  Confident now that he could find his way back out of the tunnels, he slumped against one wall, propped the torch on top of his pack, and snuffed out the trembling flames with a simple spell. In the darkness he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. They were so tired that they stung and even though the wall and floor were stone, his whole body felt a sense of relief. And then, unwanted tears welled up and spilled down his face. He felt horribly lonely, as if he would forever be alone. Brianna’s separation was like a void inside him that nothing would ever fill.

  He woke up some time later, but in the total darkness of the cavern, it was impossible to know how long he'd been asleep. He was on his side, having slumped over while he slept. His head ached, and for a moment he was disoriented. His stomach growled, and it felt as if there were heavy creatures on his legs. He imagined a candle flame, and light flooded the cavern. The scurrying of small, furry creatures the size of house cats away from the light was shocking. Zollin was wearing tall riding boots that had been made of fine, thick leather. He had no idea how long he’d been asleep, but the furry creatures had been gnawing on his boots. There were teeth marks, and in some places the leather was almost eaten through.

  Zollin scrambled quickly to his feet and sent the little magical flame moving through the cavern. The creatures had dull brown fur that was hard to see against the stone floor, which was almost the exact same color. Their eyes were tiny and milky white. Zollin guessed they couldn’t really see, but the light did affect them and sent them scurrying away. They had teeth like beavers and long, flat claws on the ends of their paws, which Zollin guessed were used for digging. They reminded Zollin of moles, but they were much larger. He knew rats would sometimes gnaw at people’s feet and hands if they were left prone too long, but he’d never heard of moles doing that. He got a sense that the creatures weren't what they seemed, but rather a product of tainted magic. But Zollin had no idea what was tainting the magic of the natural world.

  He wrapped another strip of burlap around his torch and set it ablaze, extinguishing the small flame. The light seemed to dance around the sacred cavern, and Zollin pulled some more food from his pack. After he’d eaten his meager breakfast he searched for the tunnel he’d marked, feeling relieved that the dark smudge was still on the wall. Then he selected one of several other tunnels leading away from the cavern and set off once again.

  He ate salted meat as he explored the tunnel, tearing small bites off a long strip and then sucking on them in his mouth until the tough jerky was soft enough to chew. As he ate he felt better, his body still tired but not aching once he had worked out the stiffness from sleeping on the hard stone floor. In the dwarf caverns there was no way to mark the passing of time. Zollin could only guess that he had slept for several hours, but he had no way of knowing for sure.

  The tunnel he was in seemed to turn back and forth more often than the others. The walls were uneven, and the roof sometimes angled down sharply. Zollin started to turn back, but he was curious as to why the tunnel was so different. And then he heard a noise. It was confusing because it was constant, sort of a strange hum. At first Zollin thought it was a group of dwarves all talking at once, but the closer he got, the stranger the noise became. It was almost an excited gibberish, with strange clicking and buzzing mixed in.

  Zollin decided that whatever was at the end of the tunnel probably wasn't friendly. The sounds were so foreign he couldn't help but feel that the beings making the noise were too different to be allies. He propped the torch against the wall and went on without it, leaving its light for the shadows of the tunnel ahead.

  It didn't take long to be in near total darkness again. The tunnel was so irregular that the light simply didn't penetrate far. He had to grope ahead in the gloom, one hand on the tunnel wall, the other held out and up so that he didn't accidentally smack his head into a section of rock that jutted out of the ceiling. His pace slowed considerably, but the sounds only grew louder. He didn't worry about making noise, since he didn't think any sound he made could be heard over the cacophony he was moving toward.

  After a while he saw light ahead of him. It was a soft, orange glow, one that he recognized. There were caverns in the tunnels where molten rock rose to the surface, casting a muted, orange glow into the otherwise dark places under the mountains. The dwarves, with the help of wizards, made bridges over the pools of molten rock so the caverns could be safely traversed. The fiery lava worms made the molten rock their home, but sometimes they came to the surface and attacked anyone foolish enough to get near them. So it wasn't just the heat from the magma that made the caverns dangerous. Zollin inched his way closer, his heart pounding and his palms beginning to sweat. Something was just ahead—some type of creature he'd never encountered before and wasn't sure he wanted to encounter now. Curiosity drove him forward.

  The tunnel opened into a huge cavern, and as Zollin peered out he could tell the tunnel was high on the side of the cavern's circular walls. The light rose up from below, and on the far wall Zollin could see strange beings clinging to the walls. They were short with fat bodies and long, skinny limbs. Their heads were round but hairless, and each creature had multiple sets of eyes, almost like a spider. Their feet were long and articulated, with claw-like toes that held them securely to the wall. In their hands were digging instruments that were flat, with blades like shovels. They were hacking and clawing the walls a
nd as Zollin watched he saw more of the strange beings emerge from the walls.

  Whatever the creatures were, Zollin realized they were waking up. The cavern was really just a giant hive, with the molten bottom supplying heat so that the creatures could hibernate, just as the Dryads in Peddingar forest had done. The only question was whether they had been awakened by his magic, or by the alarming sense of evil that was quickly spreading across Yelsia.

  Zollin didn't wait to see more. He could only imagine the queen of the horrid creatures down in the bottom spawning more of the dreadful beings. He had heard a story once by a traveling bard who had passed through their village about a warrior fighting strange creatures who came out of holes in the ground. He had called them Oremites, and Zollin had a feeling the story was based on the strange insectoids in the cavern.

  He hurried back toward his torch, banging into the walls in his haste and giving himself some nasty bumps and bruises. Still, he didn't want to slow down. He instinctively knew the creatures were dangerous and he didn't want to be found by them. When he reached his torch he snatched it up gratefully and whirled around, worried that he was being followed by the terrible hordes with their articulated claw feet and horrifying spider eyes.

  He didn't slow down until he was back in the sacred cavern and it dawned on him that the Oremites had carved the tunnel. Some of them were already out in the cavern, probably searching for food or perhaps even a way out. By killing the huge snake, he may have unleashed something horrible on the world, and he silently cursed his ill luck which seemed to be going from bad to worse.

  ***

  Brianna watched Zollin return to the crevasse that served as an entrance to the dwarf caverns, and when he finally disappeared inside, she breathed a sigh of relief. She felt guilty but also as if a huge burden had been lifted from her. She felt free and couldn't wait to get back into the sky. She didn't want to be in the dreadful forest a moment longer than she had to be.

  A mental call for the dragons soon brought them around. Even in the darkness she could see their huge bodies and magnificent wingspans. They landed gracefully in the clearing. Ferno even carried a thick hind led from a deer it had killed in its powerful foreclaw. The hulking green dragon laid the fresh meat gently at Brianna's feet.

  “What a wonderful treat,” Brianna said. “Thank you Ferno.”

  Normally the venison meat would take hours to cook, but Brianna could not only harness fire, but produce and control heat in any number of ways. She remembered that once, long ago when she was fleeing Tranaugh Shire with Zollin, Quinn, and Mansel, that Zollin had cooked a trout right in his hands. She pulled out her dagger and cut off a section of the meat, held it in her hands and cooked it almost instantly. She controlled the temperature perfectly, so the outside had a thick char while inside it was still pink and juicy.

  “I'll eat while we fly,” she said.

  Instantly mental images of Zollin popped into her head and she knew the dragons were asking about him.

  “He isn't coming,” she said. “I'm going south to find Bartoom. Zollin is staying here to help the dwarves.”

  Ferno growled anxiously, but Brianna ignored the larger dragon. She didn't have to go into details that the dragons wouldn't understand anyway. They were genderless, and only understood pack relationships. Humans, with their affections and romances, were a complete mystery to the dragons.

  She pushed away the pang of guilt she felt and slung the large saddle bags onto Sorva's back. Then she climbed up, still eating the venison and settled herself onto the dragon. Ferno's roar was almost a moan of agony and into Brianna's mind popped an image of Ferno resting in the clearing as Zollin climbed out of the crevasse.

  “Fine,” Brianna said, “but we aren't waiting. Zollin doesn't need to help me. Just stay with him, Ferno. Keep him safe.”

  This time the green dragon roared so loudly the ground shook. Brianna threw back her head and laughed, just as Sorva reared on powerful hind legs and launched into the air. It was still dark, the air cold, the stars overhead bright pinpricks in a dark purple sky. Brianna felt her anxiety melting away. She was leaving behind a life of security and predictability. Most people would never have the courage to step out from under such a blanket of protection, but Brianna needed to embrace the unknown. She needed to challenge herself, to find what all her life could be and experience things for herself. She had been slowly dying in Brighton's Gate, and at last she felt alive again.

  The forest sped by beneath her, and Brianna let a layer of blue flame cover her body. She could feel Sorva's powerful muscles propelling them on, and Brianna wanted to fly forever. They passed over the edge of the forest and onto the hill country just as dawn broke. Had they turned to the west they would have flown over Tranugh Shire, her birthplace. Todrick, her poor husband of only one night was buried there, but her family was now in Orrock, and she hadn't really known Todrick. Their marriage had been arranged, and he was so drunk by the time they retired to their newly built cottage, that he passed out on the bed before their vows were consummated. The next morning the wizards from the Torr arrived in the village, demanding to take Zollin away, and Brianna knew then that her life was entwined with his.

  When Zollin refused to go with the wizards from the Torr, their mercenaries had attacked the village. In the chaos Brianna had followed Zollin to the small house he and Quinn lived in on the outskirts of the village. There, Todrick was cut down by the vicious mercenaries, but Brianna had not felt fear or sadness at his passing, only the need to escape the dull, predictable life he offered her. She should have known that she wouldn't be happy in Brighton's Gate, but it had seemed like the right thing to do at the time. And she had never imagined that Zollin would settle so completely into the dull routines of a solitary life. She wanted more than that. She needed to be free, to spend her nights under starry skies and her days chasing new adventures.

  They landed in a small valley between two large hills and rested for a while. Neither of them had slept the night before, but the dragons needed only a few hours of sleep and could stay awake for days. Brianna had been too worked up to sleep, first after being attacked by the Dryads and then from the confrontation with Zollin. But in the warm morning sunlight, she lay down in a nook between Sorva’s long, supple tail and thick body. She felt safe, happy, and most of all free, and she fell asleep almost instantly.

  Chapter 16

  Quinn sprinted around the corner, his chest heaving and a sharp, stabbing pain in his side, just in time to see one of the white-furred wolverine creatures drag a woman from her home. The thatched cottage was little more than a wooden frame. Heavy posts supported the roof, but the walls were hung with canvas that had been ripped apart by the wolverine's massive claws.

  Quinn wanted to rush forward and save the woman. He had seen her before, but didn't know her name. Unfortunately, two more of the massive creatures moved in on either side of the first beast. They were the same long-haired, heavily built creatures that resembled wolverines, only several times too big and with pure white fur, and Quinn knew there was nothing he could do for the unfortunate woman.

  “Good god!” said one of the men from the hunting party who was gasping for breath beside Quinn. “They've come back.”

  “This is a different bunch,” Quinn said.

  “And how the hell can you tell that?” said Kurchek in an accusatory tone.

  “Because they aren't covered in blood,” Quinn said, whirling on him as the creatures slunk out of sight into the darkness. “The creatures we tracked down slaughtered my horse, and their white fur was tinged with blood.”

  “Quinn,” Mansel said, leaning down from his saddle and pointing.

  Three more of the creatures were emerging from between two houses further down the dirt street. One had a human arm in its long, narrow muzzle.

  “How many are there?” asked one man.

  “At least nine,” Quinn said. “Another one was wounded. We'll have to see if it comes back.”

 
“It looks like they're all coming back,” said another of the townsfolk. “It’s like they're picking us off one by one.”

  “They're intelligent,” Quinn said. “We aren't dealing with wild animals here. We need to get the entire town together and make a stand.”

  “The inn's the only place big enough for everyone,” said one of the hunters.

  “I suggest you get your families there, and fast,” Quinn said. “It's going to take all of us to hold these creatures off, and we can't do that if they're killing your wives and children.”

  The men of the hunting party looked terrified and exhausted, but they rushed off. Quinn hoped he was right, hoped that getting everyone in one place would mean they might keep them safe. At least three people were dead already, and probably more. The trap the first group of animals had set hadn't been to ambush the hunting party, it had been to draw the fighters away from their wives and children so the rest of the pack would have easy pickings in the town.

  “Quinn, I'm going for Nycol,” Mansel said.

  “Go, it'll be dawn soon. Get her, and get back to the Inn as soon as you can. We're going to need you.”

  Mansel nodded then rode quickly away. Quinn turned back to the men who didn't have families, most of whom were still staring into the darkness after the beasts that had taken the woman.

  “Let's get back to the inn. We have a lot of work to do,” Quinn said.

  When they got to the wide street just in front of the inn they were met by a frantic Ollie. She was worried and looking for Buck. Quinn didn't have to ask if she'd heard the screams. She and her daughter were both pale and looking around at the crowd of hunters anxiously.