Combatant: The Revelations of Oriceran (The Kacy Chronicles Book 3)

by Anderle, Michael

  "Like a zombie," Jordan added.

  Eohne's voice grew thick with drama. "Worse than your zombies."

  The shape of the king blackened and thinned, his robes dissolved, revealing a long body with sharp angles, made more of shadow than any real flesh. The dead king slowly rose from his place in the tomb. His head was featureless and drifted above his shoulders, where, instead of a neck, a column of smoke held his chin suspended above the collarbones.

  "So. Spooky." Jordan felt her flesh marble with goosebumps.

  "King Keeriak became the first Rakshaak guard of Trevilsom, though it took him some time to turn all of his people." The bony giant made of shadows and smoke bumped his floating head on the stone ceiling of the tomb, making the head bounce like a balloon. As the giant made his way up the stone steps, he repeatedly hit his head against the ceiling. A hollow sound, like coconuts being knocked together, accompanied every bump.

  "A Rakshaak leaks a toxic poison that contaminates any magic around it. When Keeriak emerged from his tomb, he addled the minds of his own people, and they became disorganized, confused, and unable to take care of themselves. They died soon after, becoming Rakshaaks themselves.”

  The Rakshaak King emerged from underground into streets full of giants, who made soundless screams and scattered before him. They fell away and dissolved into the same kind of tall, neckless creature as their former king. They each fell into step behind him until there were no living giants left—only an army of tall, dark, neckless wraiths.

  "Trevilsom guards feed off the fear and confusion that they create, which is why the island became a place that everyone sent their criminals."

  The vision of the army of Rakshaaks dissolved into another scene: a rowboat on the ocean carrying a devious looking little man, who was tied up in more rope than what would be needed to moor a ship. He was tossed from the rowboat onto the island, and the three oarsmen (the fat plumes in their hats waving goodbye) turned the boat around and sailed away. The little man jumped to his feet, ropes falling away, shaking his fist at the now distant vessel.

  "Watch behind you, little man," Jordan said, her warning surprisingly sincere.

  The little man whipped around, and his hair grew white in an instant. A Rakshaak approached, its dark lumbering shape crossing the land, and its long skeletal fingers reaching. As the moon swept by in fast-motion, the man's form slowly dissolved. The fog left over seeped into the Rakshaak. Its neck grew long as it absorbed the mist, the smoke lifting the head higher as it fed.

  "That's a ghastly story, no matter how silly you make it look. Can I have my sight back now?" The scene dissolved, and Jordan's view of the dismal ship returned. She shivered. "If we get too close to one of the giants, we'll lose our minds and become Rakshaaks, too?"

  "No, you wouldn't become a Rakshaak. Only the original giants became Rakshaaks, and they are finite in number and thankfully cannot reproduce, as far as I know. However, if you're in the presence of a Rakshaak, you'll soon become so addled that you won't be able to find your way off the island, let alone out of the prison. You’d stay there until you died, with the Rakshaaks feeding off your fear. They are motivated to feed and water the prisoners to keep them alive as long as possible, so they can continue to siphon their own sustenance from them. It's a nasty business."

  "But you've got magic that will protect us from this toxic poison?"

  Eohne nodded. "I invented it a long time ago, for a school project. It will work, but it will also decay over time." Eohne pulled her knees up into her chest and wrapped her arms around herself. "We have to get in and out of there quickly."

  "My poor father. It's a good thing humans don't have any magic for them to leech and make him crazy."

  "Yes, that's a good thing. But Firohne wrote of the effects the noxious magic has on humans."

  Jordan remembered. "A coma. What else did Firohne write about in his memoirs? Tell me something that can help us."

  The story had been entertaining, but now that the cartoon vision was gone, the reality of her father's situation set in. Allan was in grave danger. As a being that the Rakshaaks could not live off of, it would only be a matter of time before they simply discarded his lifeless form——threw him into the ocean and left him to drown.

  "Firohne wrote of the caves under the island being the only way to access the prison, and delay coming into contact with the toxic magic until the last possible moment. He said that a strong magical being could fight off the effects of the Rakshaaks and preserve their sanity for a time. If they were strong enough, they might descend into the tombs of the old kingdom and find the pools leading to the underwater tunnels."

  "They'd have to be one heck of a swimmer," Jordan murmured.

  "Yes."

  "I wish Blue were here," Jordan said, rubbing her upper arms. "I miss the little guy."

  "He can't come where we're going. You know that."

  "I know."

  "Do you think he'll do as you asked?"

  "He'll do it." Jordan spoke with confidence, but she'd never asked Blue to do anything without her before.

  Jordan had penned a letter to Sol, who by now would be frantic with worry. In a short message, Jordan explained Allan's predicament, told him who she was with, and revealed that they were going to Trevilsom to rescue her father. She hoped that Sol would take some comfort in knowing that Toth, the intimidating Nycht mercenary, and Eohne, the brilliant Elvish inventor and magician, were her allies. She didn’t give him any specifics of their plan; there hadn't been time for that.

  She'd tucked the letter into a cylinder, fastened it to Blue by way of a collar they'd acquired in Maticaw, and given the dragon instructions to return to the apartment on Upper Rodania. He'd even flown in the right direction, which was comforting.

  "I think the storm is coming to an end." Eohne's words broke through Jordan's musings. It did seem as though the waves had lost some of their power.

  Footsteps pounded on the steps behind them, and the women hopped down from the wooden shelf. The pockmarked face of a young sailor appeared, zeroing in on the Elf and the Arpak.

  "Trevilsom approaches," he said. "Cap'n won't go much closer. Best get ready."

  CHAPTER TWO

  "There you are."

  Toth turned from his place at the railing. His face was pale——quite an accomplishment for a man who already had the complexion of a Viking.

  Jordan and Eohne stepped up to the railing on either side of Toth and leaned their elbows on the wood. They gazed out into the fog. The rough seas had calmed, and the ship's prow now cut through the smooth murky water.

  "Nice view." Jordan's tone was laced with sarcasm. The horizon was shrouded by fog and the filtered light was flat and dim. She glanced at Toth. "Did you lose your breakfast?"

  "In three installments," the Nycht groused. "Thank heavens the storm has eased. Strix are not meant to sail." He shot Eohne a glare. "I could have carried you to Trevilsom."

  "I don't doubt it." Eohne's expression was mild. "But if you had, you'd have been so exhausted by the time we arrived that we'd have to abandon you on some rock and go on without you."

  Toth grunted and stared into the water sliding by below them.

  "Did Firohne write about how long the Rakshaaks wait before they give up on a human?"

  Eohne shook her head. "I'd guess a week; he wrote that it took a week for non-human species to deteriorate to the point of being a food source for the Rakshaaks."

  Toth voiced the fear that was burgeoning in Jordan's own mind. "They must have had humans on the island before. Why would they give him even a week's worth of time?"

  "Firohne seemed to think that the Rakshaaks don't distinguish an Elf from a human, or a human from a Dwarf. They don't have much in the way of functional logic——they are more like radars for fear. If that's true, then they would give every prisoner the allotted week before keeping or discarding them."

  Jordan took a shuddering breath. "Any idea how long my father has been on the island alrea
dy?"

  "I don't know for certain. I know that a ship left Vischer five days ago, and it's a two day journey by ship from Vischer to Trevilsom."

  "So you think he's been there for three days?"

  Eohne nodded. "That's my best guess."

  The ship began to slow as sailors yanked on ropes and the sails shifted.

  "Look." Eohne pointed to dark shapes off to the side of the ship, “we can't go much further. There are too many islands to navigate these waters safely."

  "Correction," a voice made them turn. The captain they'd bought passage from in Maticaw had approached. "We can't go any further."

  The sound of a heavy chain running out the side of the ship and the splash of the anchor backed the serious look on his face. "Best grab the railing."

  They did so, and the ship lurched to a halt. Sailors stumbled forward, and Eohne slid into Toth, who slid into Jordan. Only the captain, who hadn't been clutching anything, managed to keep his footing.

  "There's nothing here." Jordan peered through the fog at the surrounding waters.

  "There's a small island just beyond the fog where we'll leave you." The captain took off his hat. "That is, if you still want to pursue this lunacy. It's not too late to change your minds. I can drop you off in Skillen, if you like?" The old captain, his brow lined with wrinkles, seemed hopeful that his suggestion would take root.

  Toth shook his head. "Thank you, but we've got someone to rescue."

  The captain nodded. "Good luck to you, then." He gave a signal, and a rowboat was lowered onto the water. Toth, Eohne, and Jordan joined two oarsmen in the dinghy and waved to the captain as they were rowed into the fog. The ship was rapidly swallowed up by the mist.

  In short order, the rowboat bumped against a small barren island, and the threesome was helped from the boat. One of the oarsmen shook his head at them as they rowed away.

  "Let's not waste any time," muttered Toth. "This place is eerie."

  "Godforsaken," Jordan added. "Do your magic, Elf."

  "A few things to cover, just briefly," said Eohne, raising a finger. "I know I've already said this, but I'd like to reiterate that we have to get Allan out of there as quickly as possible. I've made a compass that will lead us to him, and the shields should protect us from the toxic magic up to a point, as well as make us undetectable to the Rakshaaks. But we have to be off the island by the time the magic wears off or-"

  "We'll never leave," finished Toth. "Got it." Toth peered into the murky water. "Caves." He gave a visible shudder.

  "You're a Nycht," Jordan thwacked him on the shoulder. "Don't your kind live in caves?"

  "Yes, high off the ground," Toth protested, hands out. "Not underwater!"

  "I have a basic formula for underwater tunnels which I invented as part of my early training." Eohne was rifling through one of her satchels. "Sohne dropped a jewel into one of our deepest lakes and challenged me to retrieve it without getting wet,” she explained. “I'll adapt that magic to send the tunnel not toward a precious gem, but toward a pocket of oxygen."

  Jordan's fingers and toes were freezing, and her pulse felt light and fast. She and Toth were putting their lives into Eohne's hands. If the Elf's magic failed them, they would die. Jordan felt the desire to point out the obvious risks, but clamped her lips shut. The Elf didn't need to be reminded.

  "So, to sum up," said Toth, “we tunnel our way to the cave system, climb out, following your compass to Allan, snatch his unconscious form out from under the noses of vampiric Rakshaak guards twice our size, and then fly to Rodania?"

  "You make it sound as though you don't face hideous flying monstrosities on a daily basis." Eohne retrieved a sack, untied it, and peered inside. "I have seen what you can do to a full-grown harpy female."

  A muscle flexed in Toth's jaw. "Harpies wield toxic claws, but they don't leak toxic magic. I am always fully in control of my mental faculties when I'm facing one."

  "Well, you're right except for the flying to Rodania part. While you were rescuing Jordan from certain death back in Maticaw, I made a deal with a sailor named Thom–—“

  "How did you know I was facing certain death, by the way?" Jordan interrupted.

  "You know that compass Eohne is going to make to help us find your dad?" Toth asked.

  "She made one leading to me?"

  He nodded.

  Jordan gave the Elf an adoring look. "You are brilliant and gorgeous."

  "Thanks. Can I go on now?"

  Jordan nodded. "Sorry."

  "Thom runs a regular delivery of goods to the east side of Lower Rodania. It's the closest civilized landmass. He'll pick us up on the west side of Trevilsom when we're ready." Eohne looked at Toth. "You'll only have to carry Allan for a short distance. And you," Eohne looked at her Arpak friend, "if you can manage it, will have to carry me for a short distance, as well. Think you can?"

  "No problem." It wouldn't have mattered if Eohne had asked her to carry a Cadillac; she would do her level best, if it was what was needed to rescue her father.

  Toth raked a hand through his hair, standing the spikes on end. "This is madness."

  "Yes," replied Eohne simply. "Now I need a moment's quiet, please."

  Eohne produced an empty cup. She knelt and scooped up some seawater with it, then set it on the rock beside her knee. Next, she retrieved a coil of string, which she stuffed into her mouth.

  Toth and Jordan shared a bemused glance and crouched to watch with interest. Watching Eohne work was like watching a street magician.

  Eohne held the string in her mouth for several seconds to ensure it got a good bath in her saliva. She pulled out a small box, and something inside rattled. Eohne poured a gray crystalline powder into the palm of her hand. She deposited the wet string into the powder and mushed it around with her finger. She then produced a small glass cylinder. Pressing her thumb against the bottom of the cylinder caused a flame to burst from the top. She held her palm flat and touched the flame to the string. The string flared to a bright yellow, and a series of popping sounds made Jordan jump——but the string didn't burn, it only flashed brightly in the palm of Eohne's hand and slowly began to fade, looking much as it had before.

  Eohne put away her Elven lighter, grasped the end of the string, and threw the rest of the string into the sea. Her body seemed to freeze. Her face turned upward, and her eyes took on a faint glow.

  Jordan and Toth shared an uneasy glance. Eohne appeared to have fallen into a trance.

  Toth pointed, and the two Strix watched as the string moved through the water, away from their small island platform. To Jordan, it moved as though a fish was attempting to swim away with it. A light source appeared, small and distant under the water. In the light of the blue glow, they watched as fish darted by, several of them alarmingly large. Waving fronds of kelp swayed back and forth, and the rock walls below them came into view. What seemed like shallow water on the surface was revealed to be water so deep, there was no visible bottom. The islands were long fingers of stone, reaching up from the depths to poke from the seas and strain toward the sky.

  The blue glow traced the string all the way to Eohne's fingers. The Elf took a deep breath, and her eyes returned to normal; her chest rose and fell as though she was a little out of breath. She took her Elven lighter and touched the flame again to the end of the string.

  There was a crack like the sound of thunder overhead.

  A hole appeared in the water where the string had been, and thunder echoed from the tunnel. It was loud, but rapidly growing distant as the hole made its way to whatever caves Eohne had found, breaking and holding the water apart.

  Jordan's mouth went dry as she realized what they were about to do. This was their path——the tunnel that would lead them to the caves under Trevilsom. Jordan closed her eyes and whispered a prayer for strength as fear threatened to overwhelm her. She felt Toth's hand squeeze her shoulder, and the terror passed, leaving only tremors along her spine.

  Eohne stood and reached for th
eir hands, and the three of them stood on the small island. The strange, wide hole in the water was just behind Eohne. The companions held hands, clutched and squeezing, and Jordan felt a burst of gratitude and strength come from the connection. She looked from one to the other.

  Ready.

  Eohne released their hands, turned, and with a graceful leap, jumped into the tunnel. She became a blurred shadow, as the tunnel curved away from their island and then passed out of view. It was like watching someone descend a transparent waterslide.

  Toth gestured that Jordan should go next.

  Jordan took a small torch from her satchel. Eohne had given them each a small Elflight torch, which they only needed to blow on to light.

  "For you, Dad," she whispered, and leapt.

  The underwater world became a blur as she slid along the surprisingly hard surface. Darkness closed overhead as she slid down the first sharp descent. The angle soon shallowed, and she was able to get to her feet and run. Her heart was pounding, and she gasped at the sensation of being on the edge of out of control. She braced her legs and found herself sliding, as though on some invisible skateboard.

  The tunnel flattened enough for her to slow and light her torch. Jordan blew, and as the blue light increased, she gasped at the world that lit up around her. Schools of fish swam past the tunnel, and she caught a flash of long tentacles as some squid or octopus-like creature disappeared into a crack in a vertical stone wall. The tunnel wound its way between rough stone pillars, always descending. She looked back as Toth blew his torch alight. She could make out his bulky silhouette through the walls of the tube above and behind her. Eohne was somewhere ahead of her, out of sight.

  The angle of the tunnel sharpened again, and Jordan lost her footing and slid. The underwater world whizzed by at a frightening speed. If the tunnel broke, there was no way she could surface in time to survive. She tried not to think about how many feet below the water's surface they now were.

  Her breath echoed against the walls, and her hair slapped against her face. The tunnel flattened out again, and she got to her feet with trembling knees.