Chaos Descending

by Toby Neighbors

  “Don’t make a sound,” whispered one of the dwarves into his ear.

  It was a female voice. The gender of dwarves was difficult to recognize, since most of the females also grew beards and had almost the same physical build as their male counterparts. Dwarf voices were naturally low but robust, and the female’s voice was just a little breathy. Zollin could only see shadows above him, but he could see the outline of a heavy hammer poised above his head, ready to smash his brains out if he did anything that might risk the safety of the dwarves. He lay completely still to show them he meant no harm.

  “Who are you?” whispered the dwarf covering his mouth. “And keep your voice down. If those crynogs hear us, we’ll all be dead.”

  The pressure on his mouth eased a little, although the hand stayed close, ready to clamp down again if Zollin didn’t cooperate. He took a shaky breath, trying to relax a little so his voice wouldn’t shake. His chest was throbbing from where the dwarves had hit him, and he cursed himself for not being more careful.

  “I’m Zollin, the wizard,” he whispered. “I came to find Jute of the Yel Clan.”

  “There is no more Yel Clan.” The dwarf’s voice was laced with anger. “And there soon won’t be any dwarves left at all, thanks to you.”

  “I don’t understand.” Zollin said.

  “Of course you don’t. You came to us for help, but our warriors never returned. Our clans have been under constant attack since you came. The northern clans were overrun by anacrids. Now the crynogs have woken. There’s too many of them to fight, and once they find us, they’ll kill every last dwarf under the mountain.”

  “I had no idea your kin didn’t return,” Zollin said. “The witch was defeated, but I was hurt in the battle. Please, let me help you.”

  The dwarves hesitated a moment, then Zollin felt the pressure on his arms ease. The shadowy hammer lowered and he was able to prop himself on an elbow.

  “I’m Reenah, this is Moss; he doesn’t speak.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” Zollin whispered. “Tell me: what is going on?”

  “The crynogs have hatched, I told you this?”

  “What are crynogs?” Zollin asked.

  “Ore eaters,” Reenah said. “They consume entire mountains, leaving them hollow and weak. Gold is what they covet most, and Dragon Heart. They multiply quickly, but this hive had been hibernating. I’m not sure what woke them, but if they discover the clans, we’ll be overrun. We’re their only natural enemies.”

  “I saw their hive," Zollin said. "It was a big cavern and they were digging each other out of the walls.”

  “They lay eggs in the lava shafts. The rock there is soft and usually full of minerals. We’ve known about that shaft for a long time, but they only hatched recently. The queen wakes first, then eats her way down to where the rock is still molten. The heat wakes the drones, who find more ore for the queen, which she uses to lay more eggs.”

  “You know a lot about them.”

  “We have to. Once they take root in a mountain, they will eventually destroy it.”

  “So what are we going to do?”

  “We?” Reenah asked. “Are you saying you’ll help?”

  “Yes, that’s why I’m here.”

  “I need to take you to Grenda.”

  “Okay,” Zollin said. “Let’s go.”

  He was getting to his feet when a powerful wave of magic rolled over him. The feeling was both shocking and intoxicating at the same time. Once he had discovered his magical power, he had quickly learned to sense magic in other things. His first encounter with a strong magical object had been a willow tree. In fact, that tree had been so imbued with a bright, life giving magic, that Zollin had cut several of the long, flexible limbs and woven himself a belt that enhanced his power. His old staff been filled with strong magic from a lightning strike that broke the limb off the tree. He had found gemstones, plants, even sometimes people who were filled with certain kinds of magic. But what he felt now was different. It was familiar, but new at the same time.

  “Is something wrong, wizard?” Reenah asked.

  “Do you feel that?”

  “Feel what? There is nothing to feel.”

  “It’s magic,” Zollin said. His voice had an almost dreamy quality. He could feel his own power swirling and longing to join with the power flowing from the cavern just ahead of him. The cavern where the oremites were digging.

  “What are you doing?” Reenah whispered angrily.

  Zollin ignored her and moved back to the small pile of debris that the dwarves had been hiding behind. He could feel the powerful magic now. He thought it was like standing in the sunshine after weeks of freezing cold and dull, gray, cloudy days. His body seemed to soak up the power radiating from whatever the oremites had uncovered.

  “What is wrong with you?” Reenah demanded as she tugged Zollin down to the floor. “Are you trying to be seen?”

  “No,” Zollin said. “But I have to know what they’ve found.”

  “Whatever it is, they’ll eat it,” Reenah said. “We need to move.”

  “No, I can’t let them take it.”

  “Don’t be a fool, wizard. There are nearly a score of the crynogs in that cavern, and each one is deadly.”

  “I can’t let it go,” Zollin said.

  “I’ve always heard that wizards are both a boon and a curse. You’re always after things, aren’t you? Don’t you know it isn’t wise to delve too deep in the darkness?”

  “I’m not delving,” Zollin said. “But there is something powerful being unearthed in that cavern. Do you really want to just leave it to the mites?”

  Reenah looked at Moss. Zollin couldn’t make out their facial expression in the darkness, but he still recognized the look of agonizing responsibility.

  “Our task was to observe and report, not engage. So far, the crynogs don’t know we’re here.”

  “So stay back. I can stop them.”

  “You can fight a score of crynogs by yourself?” she said skeptically.

  “I’m a wizard after all,” Zollin said with a chuckle.

  “Perhaps,” Reenah said cautiously. “A fool for certain.”

  “Just stay here and stay out of sight.”

  Zollin got to his feet and carefully stepped over the mound of rubble. He didn't want the oremites to realize he was there until he was well away from Reenah and Moss. He could feel the dwarves watching him, and he hoped he would not only get the magical object the insectoid creatures were unearthing, but that he might win the dwarves' confidence as well.

  Once he felt he was in a good position, he let his magical senses flow out until he could feel every nook and cranny of the chamber. There were two other tunnels leading into the larger section of cave. One was uniform and well made, the other seemed almost as if the oremites had burrowed straight into the cavern. There were eighteen of the hideous looking creatures. Zollin couldn't see them very well with his eyes, but with his magic he could sense everything about them. They had large, round heads, and as his magic penetrated, he could tell that their skulls were abnormally thick. Their brains were tiny, almost absurdly small for such powerful creatures. Their thin, spindly arms and legs weren't muscled like most animals or even like humans. They were certainly the opposite of the dwarves, who had short, bulky limbs. But the oremites could generate enormous strength with their limbs; Zollin could see that much by the way they dug through the rock.

  Growing up, Zollin had dug his share of holes, usually while helping his father prepare a building site. Quinn believed in making his structures secure by starting several feet underground and building upwards. But the oremites were able to hack through solid rock faster than Zollin could shovel dirt. Whatever they were trying to find, they would have it soon. His magic felt bolstered to an incredible degree as it mingled with the power that emanated from the buried object, so he was surprised to find that it hadn't been uncovered yet.

  He decided to wait until the oremites unear
thed the magical treasure. He could see Reenah talking quietly to Moss, and he didn't need to hear them to know they were wondering what he was waiting for. When the oremites uncovered the object they were seeking, Zollin was hit by another wave of tremendous power. He felt almost giddy just being near the powerful item, and all he wanted to do was work magic, to feel it flowing through him, and connecting with the new, intoxicating entity.

  At first Zollin hoped he might be able to scare the oremites away. So he conjured light. It was an easy enough spell, and with a little effort he quickly filled the cavern with bright white light. Zollin could even feel the waves of light bouncing around the cavern, reflecting off of some surfaces, being absorbed by others. The oremites were terrified at first; the light hurt their large, lidless, black eyeballs that crowded their bulbous heads. They instinctively moved away from Zollin, but then, as if something or someone else were controlling them, they turned and attacked.

  At first only two came charging at Zollin. In the bright light of his spell he could see their rotund bodies and sinewy legs. Their large cutting tools were held high, ready to slash him to ribbons, but he caught the creatures up in a levitating spell that sent them flying across the room. It took a strong effort from Zollin, like tossing a heavy piece of wood. It felt awkward and difficult, but he managed it just the same. The oremites crashed hard into the wall, their heads slamming into the solid rock hard enough to fracture a human skull, but the strange, thick-skulled creatures seemed to hardly notice.

  Zollin realized he couldn't defeat the oremites with strength alone. He couldn't simply batter them into submission. He was strong, and his magic seemed stronger than it had been since his battle with Gwendolyn the witch, but something other than normal strength and courage was motivating the oremites. They seemed as intent on killing Zollin as the mutated army that the witch had controlled. Those poor souls were completely under her power, and the oremites were under a similar controlling influence.

  The entire group rushed toward Zollin now; he had no choice but to unleash his magic completely. The giddy new magic reminded him of his earliest spells, and he instinctively cast one at the horde of insectoid creatures.

  “Blast!” he shouted, stretching out both hands.

  Blue energy pulsed outward from his palms in a wide arc. The power of the spell knocked the oremites off their feet. Over half were dead, the energy burning large sections of their bodies and heads. The carcasses lay smoking in the darkness, and Zollin could smell their burned insectile bodies. A few of the creatures were severely burned, but still alive. They lay screeching in pitiful voices that were neither loud nor articulate. It reminded Zollin of the sounds a rabbit sometimes makes when it is caught in a snare.

  Four of the creatures had suffered only minor burns and were on their feet, ready to attack again, when suddenly they turned and snatched up what looked like a small glowing gemstone out of the hole they had been digging in, and tried to flee. Zollin was feeling the limits of his power. Even though his magic was swirling inside him like a bellows pumping air through a forge, and he could tell it wanted to connect with the magic of the orb, he also felt the familiar stabbing pain that often accompanied his most difficult spells. He did his best to isolate his magic and keep it from taxing his physical body, but when he worked powerful magic the strain on this natural strength was inevitable.

  Still, he knew he couldn’t let the creatures escape with their prize. Another wave of energy shot out, this time more concentrated on the fleeing oremites, which required less magical power. The spell was still difficult, and Zollin felt the magic leeching out the nutrients from his body. It was as if he were starving himself at an incredibly accelerated rate.

  The energy hit the fleeing creatures and sent them crashing to the floor of the cavern while Zollin slumped against the wall. He was desperate for something to refuel his body. His hands were shaking, and he felt as if he might be sick.

  “You can uncover your lantern,” Zollin said.

  The dwarves hesitated, then a bright, reddish light lit up half the room. Zollin knew the creatures were dead or dying; he didn’t need to see the blackened corpses. He did however, want to retrieve the glowing orb that held so much magical power. He staggered toward it, avoiding the bodies of oremites, which were hideous up close.

  “You are a powerful wizard,” Reenah said, with a note of awe in her voice.

  “Not really, not anymore,” Zollin replied. “The battle with the witch almost killed me and cost me nearly all of my magical ability. I’ve slowly been regaining it. But with this…”

  He bent down and picked up the orb. Almost instantly he felt better, stronger. The magic in Zollin’s inner reservoir flowed up and into the glowing stone. Then it flowed back into him, more potent, and it seemed as if there was exponentially more than what he’d started with. It was impossible to gauge how much magic Zollin possessed. Kelvich, Zollin’s late mentor, had likened it to an artesian well, as if the magic were a vast, untapped aquifer inside him. What Zollin had discovered of his magic up to that point had only been the overflow, like a tiny spring leaking out of a rock in a hillside. Kelvich had taught Zollin how to control and use all of the magic, but sending the witch’s demon back from where she’d summoned it had taken all of Zollin’s vast reserves of magic and left him helpless. Slowly that reservoir of power had been growing, but it was nowhere near the level it had once been.

  The orb seemed to be changing everything. Zollin stood still, holding what looked like a stone that had been plucked from a river, only it was glowing, as if it had been heated nearly to the point of melting. It was smooth and oblong, slightly bigger than a chicken egg. It glowed a red color, almost like molten iron.

  “That’s what they were after,” Reenah said, coming up beside Zollin.

  Moss was with her, and all three stared at the strange stone.

  “Do you know what it is?” Zollin asked.

  “I don’t,” she said. “But I know someone who might. Come with us.”

  Chapter 20

  While Sorva hunted, Brianna sat by a small fire she had started. It was late in the afternoon, and she was trying decide whether they should push on or camp in the little valley for the night. She wasn’t in a hurry, and it felt so good to be away from the cottage in the Great Valley. She was looking forward to sleeping under the stars, even if the night got chilly, but she was also anxious for a reason she didn’t understand. Part of her mind felt as if she needed to be productive if she was going to be apart from Zollin. And, despite her need to get away and be on her own, she also felt a little stab of loneliness.

  It wasn’t that she regretted her choice. Perhaps, she reasoned, it was the lack of urgency that had always been in the back of her mind before the Witch's War. She wasn’t sure exactly what was bothering her, but something was, and she wondered if pressing on through the night would somehow alleviate that foreboding.

  She was sitting on the ground with one knee pulled up to her chest as a resting place for her chin when she felt the ground start to shake. She knew immediately that she was feeling hoof beats as a large group of horses galloped nearby. It was only a moment before she heard the thunder of the horses’ hooves. She hurried up the hilltop toward the sound and was shocked to see nearly a hundred horsemen, all in full armor with weapons at the ready.

  “You there!” shouted one of the knights. “State your name and business in this area!”

  “I’m Brianna,” she said, not sure how else to explain who she was.

  Being a Fire Spirit wasn’t something she normally proclaimed about herself. Most people had never heard of a Fire Spirit, which is what the dwarves called her. She was flesh and blood, not a ghostly entity, but the dwarfish reference to spirit was really about her temperament. She was dragon kind, but that wasn’t really a ringing endorsement either, since many of the towns and villages in Northern Yelsia had been destroyed by Bartoom in the greedy dragon’s quest for gold. She had been Prince Willam’s fiancée, but th
e prince was dead and she was married to Zollin now. The one thing she wouldn’t use to describe herself was a wife, so she let her name speak for itself.

  “Brianna? The dragon keeper?” the knight asked.

  “Yes,” Brianna replied, trying to decide if she liked that title.

  “We’ve found her,” the knight shouted to his men. “Take her.”

  “What are you talking about?” Brianna asked, suddenly alarmed.

  “We have orders to take you back to Felson. Can’t have dragons roaming loose through the countryside; it’ll cause a panic.”

  “We aren’t running loose,” Brianna said. “We’re flying south. We’ll be out of Yelsia in a day or two.”

  Several knights had come forward on their horses and then dismounted. They were slow in their heavy armor. It wasn’t intended to be worn by foot soldiers. The huge war horses didn’t seem bothered by the extra weight, but the soldiers on foot seemed to struggle as they moved forward.

  “Please,” Brianna said. “You don’t need to do this.”

  “Take her,” the lead knight said.

  “No,” Brianna said. “I won’t go.”

  The nearest knight reached for Brianna and she simply burst into flame. She thought it was humorous to see the looks of shock and fear on the faces of the knights. They had been arrogant because of their horses and armor and numbers, but they hadn’t counted on Brianna’s supernatural abilities. She was covered from head to toe in bright yellow flames.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Brianna said. “Tell your commander that you have my word we will not harm any person in Yelsia that does not threaten us.”

  “She’s a demon!” shouted one of the knights who had climbed off of his horse to take Brianna into custody.

  The horses were shifting nervously, and several of the knights were visibly tense. The knight who had shouted at her drew his sword.

  “Wait!” screamed the commander, but the terrified knight slashed at Brianna’s head.