by Sever Bronny
“It is,” Peyas said. “Hidden within this mountain is the great castle of Bahbell, built upon an ancient forgotten site, and here, at the top of this mountain, in this very cavern, is where the curse was cast.”
Augum glanced down and felt a distinct chill.
Leera swallowed. “Don’t suppose you know why Bahbell is another name for ‘gateway to hell’? I mean, there isn’t actually a gate down there, is there?”
“There is a great deal down there.”
“Uh, right. Hope this isn’t a stupid question,” Leera pressed, “but, how do you know any of this stuff? Is it because you’re so old?”
“Time does not necessarily bring wisdom or insight. Yet, back when my curiosity was stronger, I did travel often. Most of my knowledge, however, comes from my father’s books. Bahbell has an ancient library. Once we were free to go there and indulge in learning, but the queen has forbidden it for some time now. We are not to soil the master’s home with our rotten presence.”
“So how is Occulus supposed to come back to life?” Augum asked.
“He will come back to life when the pretender to the throne is boiled alive, his blood and soul used for the ancient waking ceremony.”
Augum didn’t even wish such a fate upon his murderous father. Thankfully, he thought the chances of it happening highly unlikely—the last thing anyone wanted was the most powerful Lord of Death ever coming back to life and wreaking havoc.
“And what about this ‘gift’ we’re supposed to get?” Leera asked. “Don’t suppose it’s a nice present of some sort, maybe a chocolate cake?”
“It is purification by cauldron, followed by rebirth as a harpy, forever at the beck and call of a horn. Each worshipper here has one harpy.”
“Damn, I knew it …”
Augum wasn’t surprised either. These were the Occi, after all. “Wait, so all those harpies were once … people?”
“Once, yes.”
“Look, Mr., uh, Peyas,” Leera began, “neither of us really feel like being boiled alive and, uh, turned into harpies, so how about we just borrow one of those horns and scoot on out of here through the portal pillar thingy?”
Peyas slowly shook his head. “Nefra would never allow you to leave.”
“But you’ve got to help us, our friend’s life depends on it—”
“There is little I can do. Whenever I disobey the queen mother, she burns me, boils me, or impales me on the stake. The pain is not worth assisting you, not that there is much I can do anyway, for everything is pre-written in our fates.”
“I disagree,” Augum said. “I believe we always have a choice.” It was something he had believed as long as he could remember, even when his fellow common folk proclaimed everything happened because the Unnameables wanted it to.
“Your fate is a difficult one then. I do not envy your path.”
“So you won’t help us?”
“I cannot.”
“You mean you will not. Isn’t that making a choice?”
Peyas frowned in thought but said nothing.
Augum sighed. “So who was that we saw on the stake?”
“Masius. He shall return from the sands after the feast of the bloodfruit, for tonight the moon will be full.”
“Did he disobey Nefra?”
“He did, but he cannot help himself, having gone mad long ago after being tortured and buried alive by peasant farmers. He was gone for years, until one day, when the children of the farmers, having heard tall tales, exhumed him for fun. Masius crawled out of the ground and took his revenge, slaughtering them all in a fit of wild fury.”
“Ghastly …” Leera whispered.
“My medicines are mostly for him, but they do not always work.”
The villagers began chanting in the distance.
Leera peeked through the beaded bone curtain. “What’s happening?”
“They are performing ritual worship, as done every night at this time for over fifteen hundred years.”
“Doesn’t that ever get boring?”
“There is no such thing as boring here. There is only suffering.”
The chanting got louder. Peyas looked beyond them through the curtain. “Now you must stay silent or I will be punished.”
“So we just sit here and wait to get … turned into harpies?”
“Yes.”
Augum and Leera exchanged determined looks—one way or another, they were going to get out of there with a horn.
The Scout
It was very late, perhaps the middle of the night, judging by the dark sky-hole in the cavern, when Augum came to the conclusion they needed a distraction. Maybe they could somehow set something on fire and use the confusion to escape.
“Peyas …” Nefra’s voice slithered in from outside.
“Peyas …” echoed the crowd.
“It is time. Bring the unworthies …”
Leera gave Peyas a pleading look but his gaunt expression did not change.
The ancient Henawa stood. “I am sorry. Come with me please.”
“Oh, he’s sorry,” Leera said to Augum. “That makes everything all right.”
Augum’s mind raced for ideas as they slung their rucksacks over their shoulders and followed him out of the hut.
The crowd waited in a great circle, leaving space for them to walk through. Peyas bid them to stand between the three greenish fires, burning hot and bright. The single cauldron bubbled and steamed. Masius, the man impaled above another fire, had mostly burned away, leaving only charred husks of bone.
Peyas filled the empty spot in the circle while Nefra stepped before them. All the Occi, except for Peyas, held a bloodfruit.
Nefra raised the fruit above her head. “All hail the master.”
“All hail the master,” the crowd repeated.
Nefra began gorging on the fruit, watching Augum and Leera, her skin changing colors. The crowd followed her lead, filling the air with the sound of sloppy eating. The blood spilled down their robes.
Upon finishing, she raised her hands skyward. “Rebirth, Masius!”
“Rebirth, Masius!” the crowd chanted.
Augum felt something under his boot. He jumped back to find a hand with dark red skin poke through the sand. Another one soon emerged and a naked man hauled himself up, sand spilling off him. Half his face was skeletal, the other half handsomely chiseled with a strong jaw. His hair was wispy and gray like the other Occi.
Peyas walked to his hut and returned with a pristine crimson robe, draping it over Masius’ shaking shoulders. The man hunched as if suffering from fever, even though the air was hot between the three fires.
“Can’t you let me sleep for a while, hmm, can’t you?” Masius asked in a shaking voice. “You know, maybe for eternity? Just a wee bit more of eternity?”
“You will behave and stay, Masius …” Nefra said, the words repeated by the crowd in whispers.
“Aw, come on … come on, Nefra. Gracious please, Nefra sweet, sweetest sweet?”
“Do not test my patience, Masius …”
Masius fixed his remaining good eye on Augum and Leera, hands writhing. “This time I got real far, I did I did. Real far I says. I saw lions. Lions standing on two feet! I’m going to go back, back I’m going—”
“Quiet, Masius …”
“Quiet, Masius,” the crowd echoed.
Nefra’s cold gaze fell upon Augum and Leera. “Are you ready to receive the gift?”
Before either of them could answer, there came a clicking sound. Heads turned skyward. Augum looked up to see a harpy carrying a black-armored man in its claws.
“That’s a Legion soldier—” he said as the harpy let the man go. He fell like a sack of spuds, groaning when he slammed into the dirt.
Nefra’s eyes narrowed. “Stand, Pretender …”
“Stand …” the crowd hissed.
The soldier wheezed and struggled to his feet. He looked in his mid twenties, with cropped nut hair, a weak jaw, and thick brows that co
nnected. A sword hung by his side and his armor was studded black leather, not the usual plate. The emblem of the burning sword marked his chest.
“Unworthy …” Nefra said.
“Unworthy,” the crowd echoed. “Pretender …”
The soldier frantically looked around as sweat began to bead on his forehead. “You’re … you’re them …!”
Augum felt a familiar tingling at the back of his brain. He shut the door on the spell immediately. The soldier was not so fortunate. He began screaming, looking about with wild eyes while retreating. When he reached the encircling crowd of Occi, they hissed and shoved him back to the middle. He howled and raised his arms to protect himself, nearly tumbling into the fire. Soon the entire crowd was screaming along with him, as if seeing a terrible horror. Even Peyas’ gaunt face was slack with terror. Masius gripped his head and fell to his knees, rocking like a child.
Nefra made a graceful gesture and the screaming stopped. The soldier fell to his knees, weeping.
Masius looked up and smiled with half his face. “They’re coming, they are! I finally did something worthy, I did!”
“Who is coming, Masius?” Peyas asked.
“The pretenders … they’ll destroy this place, they will. We can finally sleep … I’ll only burn one more time … one last burning for me, yes.”
Nefra grabbed Masius by the neck and lifted him from the ground, her skin tones flickering rapidly. “What did you do this time, Masius!”
“Told … them … where … to … find … us … I … did …” His hands feebly grasped at her arm. “They … will … destroy …”
Her tongue began to rattle.
“No … please …” Masius said, but she brought him close and kissed him. He began writhing wildly in her grip like a rodent caught in the jaws of a snake.
“Nefra, no—!” Peyas said, but he did not move to help.
Augum and Leera backed away from Masius’ flailing kicks, barely able to watch. The man began shaking violently and turning black, screaming and screaming until Nefra threw him into the boiling cauldron. He thrashed, splashing water that hissed in the flames, until suddenly becoming still.
The soldier, still on his knees, lay himself down, shoulders heaving.
Leera grabbed Augum’s hand and squeezed. He felt her racing pulse and looked over. Her face was pale.
Peyas cocked his head slightly at them. Something about the look he was giving said he had not witnessed such a simple, human thing in a long time.
Nefra walked up to the soldier, jaw firm. “Pretender … speak …”
“Speak …” the crowd said in an angry hiss.
The man raised a shaking arm defensively. “I’m just a scout … that’s all, I’m only a lowly scout …”
He must have been the one they had seen on the glacier, Augum thought.
Nefra’s tongue began rattling. “Who comes this way?”
“Please don’t! I’ll speak! The Legion are coming—an entire company of two hundred. They’re coming for the castle …”
“Unworthy pretenders shall not soil the master’s home!”
“Unworthies …” the crowd whispered.
Nefra raised her head. “They will be destroyed in a grand war game!”
“Destroyed!” the crowd shouted.
She unfastened the horn at her hip and blew on it. A single note ricocheted off the walls, quickly joined by scores of others.
The sound was so loud Augum, Leera and the soldier covered their ears.
The Occi lowered their horns. Harpies soon began appearing from the hole in the mountaintop. The clicking of their beaks amplified as more and more dove in. They circled the cavern and came to hover, wings flapping, just above their respective villagers. The Occi grabbed their clawed feet and each pairing lifted off together.
It smelled as if someone had dumped a house full of rotten meat into the cavern. The soldier threw up while Augum and Leera tightly held their noses.
“You will watch them, Peyas, or suffer,” Nefra said, gesturing at an Occi man to stay with them. She grabbed onto the claws of a particularly large and hideous harpy and flew away.
The man ordered to stay with them was huge, perhaps once a warrior. His skin was papery and a pale hue of blue. His muscles bulged through the crimson robe. His head was bald, parts of the skull peeking through; cheeks sunken and pierced, exposing rotten teeth. A harpy stood near, clicking its beak.
The soldier was still on the ground, breathing rapidly. “I don’t want to die,” he said, grabbing Leera’s robe. “Please, don’t let them boil me alive—!”
Leera jumped back. “Then fight! Fight him!” She pointed at the big Occi, who bared his teeth. His harpy spread its wings.
“You going to help, or just stand there?” She asked Augum, raising her hand. “Shyneo!”
“Shyneo,” Augum said, hand crackling to life.
“You mustn’t struggle,” Peyas said. “He will kill you.”
“Her mistake was leaving us here with only two guards,” Augum said. This was their chance, and they weren’t going to let it pass.
Leera took a step back as the large Occi approached. “We’ll die anyway, won’t we?”
Peyas said nothing.
The Occi warrior raised his arm at Augum. It ruptured with four dim rings that looked like they were made from smoke. “Voidus aurus,” he croaked.
Augum at first reflexively summoned his shield—but the attack was against his mind. Luckily, Nana’s Mind Armor training allowed him to block the Deafness spell.
The soldier gritted his teeth. “Give me courage, great Legion Lord!” and tackled the big Occi. The pair rolled in the sand, battling.
The harpy lifted off, circled once and dove at Augum and Leera. They barely managed to dodge out of the way. There was a splash followed by a gut-wrenching scream. They turned to find the big Occi looming over the cauldron. The soldier’s head reappeared momentarily, but the Occi shoved him back under. The water thrashed as the Occi winced, his own muscled arm boiling along with the soldier.
Leera got to her feet. “Peyas, help us—please!”
Peyas glanced at the cauldron that held the soldier. It had resumed its quiet boil. “Our fates are pre-written. There is no use in struggling.”
Augum wanted to cast Centarro but thought better of it—taking on a large Occi and his harpy was too risky, considering the after-effects should he fail. Instead, he focused his mind and shoved the air before him.
“Baka—!”
The Occi saw the attack coming and summoned a shield made of smoky wind, but was sent sprawling, barely missing one of the large fires. It was Augum’s single most successful casting of Push.
“Watch out, Aug—!”
Without looking, he jumped aside just as harpy claws whistled by his head.
The Occi got back on his feet and threw at the ground. “GRAU!” There was a monstrous noise like that of a sudden hurricane. Augum and Leera flinched and ducked, costing them precious time. Despite knowing the spell, Augum still expected to get swept off his feet, even if by the sheer noise of it.
The Occi warrior made a shoving gesture. “Baka!” and sent Leera tumbling.
Augum saw the horn bounce on the man’s hip. He raised his hand and visualized it coming to him with Telekinesis. It lifted but remained clipped to the belt.
The Occi slammed his wrists together toward Augum.“Annihilo!” A fierce blast of ripping wind shot at him. Augum barely summoned his shield in time. The force of the blast still knocked him back. Not a moment later, he had to summon the shield again to block another harpy dive attack. The claws made a scraping sound across the hard lightning shield.
“Baka!” Leera shouted, but the man blocked with his own summoned shield, only stumbling a step or two. Leera then used Telekinesis to send rocks flying, but they did not have enough velocity to do anything—she was not advanced enough with the spell to cause damage yet.
Augum scrambled to his feet, cursing their l
ack of training. This was quickly getting out of control. They were going to lose the fight if they didn’t change tactics.
He had no choice now—he had to try Centarro. He focused his mind, which had already started throbbing from so much quick casting, and shouted, “Centeratoraye xao xen!”
The glorious spell quickened and sharpened his perception instantly. The fire was mesmerizing; the sands soft under his feet; the air crisp and cool on his cheek. This was it, he had one objective now—get the damn horn.
He twirled away from another wind attack, simultaneously ducking a harpy dive—this time though, he reached out and grabbed its scaly claws, hitching a brief ride, letting go at the optimal moment and launching himself at the Occi, feet first in a flying leg kick. The warrior summoned his shield, but the force of Augum’s kick sent both tumbling. Augum, whose reactions and senses were quicker than the Occi’s, judged that he could rip the horn from the warrior’s waist at the expense of suffering a vicious claw attack from the harpy.
He did not hesitate and tore the horn free, evading the Occi’s clumsy attempts to grab him—luckily, Leera shoved the harpy with Push at the last moment and it missed him by a hairsbreadth.
Augum fluidly rolled away from the man’s furiously pawing hands and blew on the horn, enjoying the distant echo. “Attack him!” he yelled, pointing at the warrior. The harpy dove and plowed into the Occi just as he was scrambling to get up.
Augum tried to stand too but the fog quickly began to set in. Leera sprinted to him and helped him up. “Go go go—!” she shouted, but his thoughts quickly devolved—they were hurriedly going somewhere. Then his consciousness knew only impressions. Falling. Sand. Walking. Running. Something cold and black and tall. Someone was shouting at him. His cheek suddenly stung. The words slowly took shape.
“Augum—!” A hand raised to slap him, but he blocked it instinctively.
“Aug, are you back? Come back to me, Aug! Hurry!”
“Huh …?”
“We’re at the pillar! The pillar, remember!” Leera was quickly inspecting the black stone. “Damn it, you don’t happen to remember which runes we’re supposed to press, do you?”
He gazed at the pillar, mind blank.
