Chateau Cascade

by Dusty Ridgeman

  On this day, a waifish girl sat Indian-style on her throne with her fingertips lightly pressed together. She wore a violet chemise which left little to the imagination, but she showed no concern for her modesty. She might have been meditating, except her eyes were open and her brow was furrowed in concentration. Many vibrant beams were projecting out from the glowing gems in her throne, ending in a kaleidoscope of rainbow lights which swirled and danced around her like photon butterflies. Her ancient steelberry-grey eyes flickered to and fro, as if she were intent on not missing some small, ephemeral detail in the lights. Rafael, her most trusted advisor, stood nearby. He wore a look of concern on his face as he stood beside the throne, arms crossed. Staring out at her with his grey eyes, he inclined his head slightly and ran a hand through his long violet hair. The physical similarity between the two was striking; if anyone else had been in the room, they might have easily mistaken the pair as twins. However, no one else was there to notice.

  Acelia's eyes continued searching until Rafael finally broke the silence. “Is it him again?”

  “Not today,” she said, absentmindedly, in her sing-song voice. “I have not seen him since the spider in the desert.”

  “The moonling will keep him safe. Sending it along was one of your better ideas, my Lady.” Rafael's arms were still crossed, and his simple tradesman's clothes stuck out in stark contrast to the grandeur of the room.

  “Poor young Jak. Poor Lunarm. Poor babes.” Her eyes gleamed wetly but continued to flicker as the rainbow light ran across them.

  “The creature's energy will mature as it is used. Neither of them will be babes for long,” Rafael said. “They might even be able to stop the war before it begins.” His soft, sonorous voice carried surprisingly well in the lengthy room.

  “Maybe...” she replied, a frown on her face. “The Imperium, they move so quickly. Faster than we planned for.”

  “You can see them now?” His face barely changed, but his alarm was obvious to Acelia. She ignored it and continued speaking in her absent-minded, sing-song way.

  “Yes. Something new.” Her brow furrowed further. “Behind the drills, behind the kobolds... railway tracks have been laid. Great machinery is in place. When they break through the other side of the Peril mountains, they will have the full force of their army at their back. Enough supplies and men to wage a destructive conflict for years, delivered from the heartland of the Imperium.”

  “Great planners, the Westerners.” He was trying to sound unconcerned, whimsical even. The deception would have worked on almost anyone. Such efforts were wasted here, alone with this woman who could see so much.

  The queen was silent. Rafael spoke again. “Should I prepare a seed? You know it could break the young man's mind.” He stopped a moment, as if waiting for a reply, then continued. “Nevertheless… if we need him at full strength… we must first unlock his potential. I fear we cannot wait for it to happen naturally.” He looked to her for guidance, trying to find her eyes.

  Her gaze broke away from the lights, and her face fell a little in resignation. With a sidelong glance, she sighed, “Yes.”

  “As you will, my Lady.”

  He walked toward the great amethyst doors, and they swung open to allow him passage.

  ✽✽✽

  The teamsters had provided them with a single camel, which they yoked to a very small and empty covered wagon which had once held a few barrels of grain. They were also provided with a supply of camel meat and milk for the road. Leaving behind the dead men at the crater, they journeyed northeast with Jak and Karzt alternating at the reins. Quentin refused, claiming that he was too good for such menial labor. Jak suspected that his superior had no idea how to drive an animal and felt neither like admitting it nor learning. Karzt simply accepted it; he had long since decided that the top-hatted man was useless.

  Two nights of uneventful travel passed, and Jak became increasingly nervous with every easterly step. The mountains now loomed in the distance; if the sun had been shining, the group would have been in the massive shadow of the peaks by now. The men were unsure of exactly what they were looking for, but Karzt seemed confident that they were heading in the right direction. Having grown up in his rural riverside town, Jak was no stranger to hunting and tracking. Unlike the hangman, however, he had no luck spotting the tracks of the mutants and began to wonder if Karzt knew what he was doing. If Quentin shared such concerns, he did not give them voice; instead, he whistled a happy tune while strolling through the desert. It was as if he didn't have a care in the world that they were walking into what was likely to be a very bloody affair. Jak found himself wishing he had someone a bit more “normal” to work with and hoped that Lunarm would wake up soon; at least the little moon-rock-man didn't call him names every other time they spoke.

  It was the morning after the second night when they spotted it in the distance. Jak was preparing the camels for the day's rest when Karzt came over and pointed into the distance. It was scarcely visible, but jutting out of the cliff side there were the sharp angles of a large manmade structure. It was the same color as the dark grey stone of the mountainside itself and was easy to miss at this distance. Karzt pointed it out to his companions and grimly indicated that this was to be their destination. The hangman didn't feel right about this. From the moment they spotted the structure, a pit had formed in his stomach and along with it came an odd sensation of déjà vu, like he had been here before. However, all of his bounty hunting and security work had never taken him to this particular, lonely stretch of long-forgotten desert.

  Jak's hopes regarding Lunarm were answered on the third night after leaving the crater. Poking his head and stubby arms out from the satchel, he made a strange mewling sound. Perhaps, Jak thought, that is what passes for a yawn if one is a moon-rock-man.

  He pulled the little creature out of his resting spot.

  “Glad you're awake. I never got a chance to thank you for saving my life… so thank you, Lunarm.” He looked the little creature over and realized that it had grown a little while dormant. Lunarm was now almost eight inches tall and proportionately wider than he used to be.

  “No need to thank Lunarm! Lunarm is happy Jak is alive. Jak is Lunarm's friend!” The creature's little face perked up into a smile, and his soft yellow glow intensified for a moment. Jak returned the smile. Despite the strangeness of the creature, Jak realized in this moment that he very much enjoyed the company of his little friend. He supposed it was something like owning a walking, talking kitten. He urged Lunarm back into his belt satchel and said, “We're heading someplace very dangerous. It's best to stay hidden, okay?”

  Before the night was over, they were standing maybe a half mile from the structure. In the dim light of the desert night, its features were ominous and foreboding. Its columns, many of which were broken in half or heavily eroded from the stinging sands, stood like inky obelisks in the moonlight. In its prime, the place had been a massive semicircle that jutted out of the mountainside many feet above the sands. Some ancient disaster – or perhaps just the passage of time – had collapsed half of it in upon itself. Two humongous, diagonal stone causeways jutted out of the sand defiantly and led up to two entrances. If one wished to gain egress, one would probably have to head up the northern causeway. It would have been difficult enough to get through the shattered stone debris that once made up the columns and roof of the southern side, let alone pass through the collapsed entryway. The back of the temple rose high into the cliff side, and stony windows were carved into it. A single flickering light shone weakly from one of these windows.

  The men quietly took all of this in; even Quentin stopped his constant whistling, sensing the need for discretion. Karzt was especially somber. He could not shake the inexplicable feeling that he had been here before. He wondered if that contemptible mage at the crater had bestowed some sort of curse on him in the throes of death.

  “So what are we doing here?” whispered Jak. “If this is really where they're coming
from, aren't we just going to get swarmed? It's not like we can kill them all ourselves...”

  “Speak for yourself,” said Quentin in a whisper loud enough to make Jak nervous. His teeth glinted in the moonlight as he displayed a wide rictus.

  “A wizard is responsible,” the hangman said flatly. “If we kill the wizard, this will stop.”

  Jak whispered back, “How do you even know it's a wizard? What if those things were just acting on their own?”

  “It's a wizard, Jak. I know. That rain was unnatural the night we were attacked. Came out of nowhere, no warning. Somethin' made that happen. Somethin' demonic. Now come on. There's our entrance.” He pointed toward the northern causeway and began to walk away when Quentin placed a gloved hand on his shoulder to stop him.

  “Hold a moment there, cowboy. Don't you think it's just a little obvious for us to walk right up the single solitary entrance to this big spooky temple? If your story is to be believed, this place is probably filled with all kinds of things that want us dead. Don't you think maybe they'll spot us coming up if they've got the sense to have someone watching from the roof? Or maybe from that lit room up there?” Quentin punctuated his sentence by raising an eyebrow in the moonlight and looking at Karzt expectantly.

  Both men regarded each other, their heads swimming.

  “You got a better idea?”

  “Always.” Quentin smirked. “I'll move us up there. You know, like I did to the poor little farm boy here when he got himself bitten by the itsy-bitsy spider.”

  “You think I'm gonna let you use yer demon magic on me, wizard?” Karzt glowered at Quentin, his voice chillier than usual.

  “It's not magic, Karzt,” Jak said. “He's been pulling your leg. He's got the gift. The Innate. Haven't you noticed? When he uses his power, he doesn't say any words, make any gestures. It just happens.”

  “Innate?” Karzt blinked, slowly comprehending. He had heard of this. He knew that there were a few highly honored Imperium officers with this strange ability and that it was extraordinarily rare. Once he had even sent a letter out to the Ministry of Innate Affairs, a very small and lesser known office of the Imperium. One of their soldiers had gone AWOL and a bounty had been placed on his head. Not wanting to be taken by surprise by the man's powers, Karzt had requested more information. He thought back to that day when Jak had been dragged halfway to his death by the sand spinner. The boy was right. Quentin had merely looked at him and then... presto. Just like that the boy was several feet away, safe. It occurred on him that this was the first Innate he had ever met in person.

  Karzt turned toward Quentin once all the gears in his head finished turning. “You piece 'a shiet,” he said flatly. “All right. Fine. Do it.” He rested a hand on his holstered revolver and seemed to mentally prepare himself.

  “It doesn't really work like that. You need to clear your mind first. You too, farm boy.” Quentin pointed at Jak with a flourish before continuing, “Ah, and hold hands with me, the both of you. It's much harder with this many people. Four is quite a lot.”

  “Don't you mean three?” Karzt said.

  “The boy's little moon friend counts,” he replied.

  At this, Lunarm popped his little head and arms out of Jak's satchel. “Lunarm counts!” he exclaimed. His little voice carried surprisingly well in the night air. Jak shushed him and again warned him that they were going into a dangerous place. He said that Lunarm must hide and not come out again until Jak indicated that it was safe. Lunarm nodded, quickly clambering back into the safety of the satchel.

  Quentin held out his gloved hands and his companions took them. “Now don't get any ideas, Jak, I know you're at that age and all, but this hand is for the ladies only.” Karzt and Jak both felt the strange prickling warm sensation of Quentin's power flowing through them – they both took a deep breath and exhaled simultaneously, allowing themselves to be moved.

  In the blink of an eye, their surroundings shifted. There was no fanfare, no transition, no sound accompanying the movement – they were simply there. Several beads of sweat had formed on Quentin's forehead, and he wiped them off before anyone noticed; he steadied his breathing and tried not to focus on how lightheaded he had become. After a moment of disorientation, Jak realized the three of them were standing behind a large stone next to the northern entrance. He noticed that Quentin was paler than usual and seemed a little unsteady on his feet. Peeking out from behind the rock, he saw that the causeway and the entrance seemed to be totally clear; the three of them silently crept around the corner and into the dark temple, through the massive archway entrance.

  Once reaching the inside of the archway, they were able to pick their way through the ruins with the help of the dim moonlight. The roof of the structure was in disrepair, but even in its prime it would have allowed some light through. Great stone “ribs” crisscrossed above the men's heads. Colonnades, some broken and others inexplicably intact despite the passage of long centuries, rose up at regular intervals, except on the southern side. From the inside of the structure they could see that the southern area was even more of a wreck than it had seemed from the outside. Several hundred feet beyond the entrance archway, one could see a smaller, rectangular archway leading into the rock face itself. Looking at this, Karzt again felt a strong sensation of déjà vu and, with it, a sharp spike of cold fear. He shook it off and crept past the last bit of rubble that obscured their view into the large antechamber.

  The multitudes of green glowing figures were hard to miss, but Karzt spotted them first. The creatures were here en masse; they were aimlessly shuffling around the temple's open entryway. Karzt saw them and immediately took a sharp breath before ducking back behind the rubble. His partners were squatting down next to him.

  In a breathy whisper, he described what he had seen: a rectangular entrance, perhaps the width of three men, that seemed to be carved into the mountainside itself. Here, the open-roofed outer grounds ended and the mountain began. Karzt narrowed his eyes and looked at Quentin, motioning toward it. Quentin made a pinched face and shook his head in the negative; he raised one gloved hand horizontally and put the other on top, motioning with his fingers in the shape of a man walking quickly. Jak watched this and his heart began to pound furiously in his chest – did this mean that they would have to make it through on foot, without the help of Quentin's power? There had to be at least a hundred feet between them and the hole in the mountain, never mind the glowing army of mutants.

  Quentin leaned in close and whispered into Karzt’s ear, “Meet me there.” Then, in the blink of an eye, he was gone.

  Jak broke out into a cold sweat, white-knuckle gripping the hilt of his runed black-iron scimitar as it rested in his sheath. Karzt had already drawn his hatchet and was holding it with both hands. Both of them kept low, and both of them wondered why the Cascadian Knight hadn't just taken them with him as before. Karzt made the best of it in his mind; if they had to make the trek across, it was probably best if the gangly, top-hatted man wasn't with them. They began to make their way across the expanse in silence, taking cover behind the broken and intact columns alike.

  They made it halfway across the temple's outer grounds when they came to an area where a large portion of the roof had collapsed. The creatures in the distance had not noticed them, even though they had come dangerously close to a few of them. As they made their way deeper into the room, they could hear a throaty, phlegmy moaning coming from all around them. They rested a moment behind a downed column; they saw that a quick dash would take them into the relative safety of the collapsed section, with the hole in the mountain not far beyond. Going around it was not an option, as large crowds of glowing figures had clustered to either side. Karzt pointed, and Jak followed his lead. Holding their breath, they quickly crept out and managed to lay claim to their destination without arousing suspicion.

  The rubble was a maze of broken columns, stone detritus, and broken statues. Littered about here and there were glowing green puddles of foul-smelli
ng, chunky goop. Jak tried not to think too much about where they had come from. Despite the imminent danger, he felt safer here; the rubble was piled up high enough to hide them from the creatures in the expansive outer grounds. His relief was short lived. As they moved to turn around a corner, they saw the edge of a bright green glow peeking out from just past it.

  Karzt brought a finger to his lips, then pointed toward the corner with his hatchet. Jak shot him an alarmed face – surely there had to be another way than straight through. He wondered if this was another instance of the reckless hangman wanting to spill the blood of something magical or if this really was the safest way. Nevertheless, Jak steeled his nerves and nodded his head. Karzt crept forward, with the hatchet in his hands and disappeared around the corner. Before Jak could follow, he heard a loud, gurgling scream which was followed by phlegmy howling from all around them. Jak ran forward, drawing both his runed scimitar and his short sword. The metal sang as it met the cool night air.

  Around the corner there was a small clearing in the rubble, and Karzt was standing there trying to dislodge his hatchet from a downed mutant's chest. Its viscous, foul-smelling green blood was everywhere. Karzt had badly missed the creature's throat and instead his weapon had found home in its heart. Two more of the things were nearby, scrambling to get onto their feet; luckily for the two men, these ones had been sleeping.

  Jak wasted no time, rushing forward to dice up the nearest mutant. Using both of his blades in a cross-slash, he was able to tear a channel into its chest and cut its throat open before it had even finished standing up. He turned to face the other, but it was already upon him; moist green flesh collided with his body, bringing him to the ground and knocking the wind out of him. He pushed weakly at the creature as its grimy, clawed fingers tore at him. Like razors, the claws easily ripped long gashes in the skin to the right of his eye, all the way down to his chin. He heard the deafening roar of thunder, and the creature was blown off of him with great force and flung into the rubble just past him.