The King's Ring (The Netherworld Gate Book 2)

by Sam Ferguson

  Only a small, jagged section of the tower remained above the foundation. Black smoke swirled up like a great leviathan into the sky. The trees closest to the tower were snapped in half from the blast, and what little remained of them was charred as black as night. Other nearby trees had been scorched and the branches that had faced the tower had been blown off, leaving the trees naked on one side. Even the ground sizzled and smoked. The assassin opened his mouth, but no words came forth to comment on the sheer destruction around him.

  He knew that an explosion like that would likely attract attention from anyone nearby, and perhaps even be visible from other towns. He straightened his belt and struggled to his feet. Without the rush of adrenaline, the aches and bumps were becoming more apparent to him. They threatened to steal his resolve, but he was experienced enough to push the pain away. He would allow himself to feel it later, when he was a safe distance away from this mess. For now, he had to move. He didn’t want to risk those two gnomes discovering that he had lived, nor did he want to tangle with any sort of elf brigade that might come once they spotted the steadily rising column of smoke.

  He decided to move forward with his plan. He would take the letter to Telshir. Talon limped along, starting the journey to Telshir. His hunger for the second relic was even greater now, and he planned on paying Elroa back for the wounds he had suffered in the tower.

  CHAPTER 15

  Elroa sat alone under the sheltering mass of a large oak tree watching the sunrise. The shock had still not totally abated from the day before when he had spoken with Phinean and Jaleal. Then, to see smoke rising from his tower, had entirely defeated him. He counted himself fortunate that he had been in Telshir, though he also realized that Phinean was likely dead now.

  Elroa turned and faced the oak tree he had been leaning upon. He offered prayers of thanks to Terramyr, the Great Mother, for preserving his life. He also prayed for Phinean and Jaleal, hoping that somehow their lives might be spared. He felt sorrowful, and somewhat guilty about abandoning the gnomes, but even now he could see there was no other choice.

  When Elroa finished praying, he rose and looked out to the sun. It was now fully raised above the eastern horizon, casting its bright rays over the land like a brilliant blanket of warmth and hope, but Elroa felt little comfort. He reached up and touched the ring on the chain around his neck. Perhaps Jaleal had been right. It would be better to hide the ring than to let a bloodthirsty assassin take it. If this human had already caused as much destruction as Phinean had claimed, then how much more could he do with an army of Sierri’Tai?

  The ring was one of three artifacts needed to release the Sierri’Tai from the netherworld. It was a vital relic, without which no one could hope to pass by the sentinels and guardians of the Netherworld Gate. Elroa understood that it would be a fatal mistake for him to let the ring slip into another’s hands. Yet, he also knew that it would damn them all to destroy the ring. Jahre had been clear about that, even if he had not been totally open with his plans. Elroa turned back to the large oak tree and a thought came to him.

  He couldn’t destroy the ring, but he couldn’t risk having it fall into the assassin’s hands either. He pulled his knife from his belt and began digging a hole at the base of the tree. The damp, cool dirt came away easily and soon he had a narrow hole nearly as deep as his arm was long. He pulled the chain up over his head and dropped it into the hole. Then he covered it back up and stamped the dirt into place with his foot for good measure.

  Elroa walked out from under the tree, and decided to go back to The Golden Leaf Inn, where he had spent the past few nights. The air was cool, the birds were singing, and the sun was bright. The elf felt his spirits lift just a bit as he slowly made his way back into the town, knowing that the ring was hidden where no one else would ever find it.

  When he arrived at the Golden Leaf Inn he was greeted by the inn keeper as he entered through the doors. Elroa smiled and nodded back as he passed by the other elf and headed down the hall to his room.

  Elroa stopped at his door and looked up to the top of the doorjamb. The small, red string was still exactly as he had left it when he had gone out earlier. He smiled and slowly undid the lock. He pressed the door open slightly and peered through the opening carefully. He grinned when he saw the thin twine stretching across the inside of the doorway. He slid his right hand in and unhooked a small fishhook from a thin eyelet that he had fastened on the wall earlier. Elroa never believed there was such a thing as being too careful. The red string was easy enough for someone to spot before breaking into a room, but a second string behind the door that would snap irreparably if the door was opened more than a couple of inches, was much harder for a would-be intruder to detect.

  He pushed the door open a little more and looked straight back to the window. The window not only had a string to alarm him of intruders, it also had a set of traps. If an intruder had managed to unlock the window and slide the glass up, a mechanism would have been triggered, springing two hatchets, one from either side of the window, to chop the intruder in the face. If, by some miracle the intruder made it past the hatchets, there was a long touch plate on the floor beneath the window that, once triggered, would release acid from a beaker hung above the window.

  Seeing that none of the strings were out of place, and none of the traps had been sprung, Elroa swung the door open and moved into his room. He reached behind him with his left hand and closed the door. He turned and bolted the lock, then slid the chain into place with a scraping sound. He reached up and pulled another piece of twine down from above the door and attached it to the eyelet. Thus setting another of his deadly traps to guard against intruders while he was inside the room.

  Elroa slowly made his way to the soft, feather bed and sat down. He closed his eyes for a few moments and pondered where he might go. Now that the ring was safe, he needed to tend to his own safety. He had often wanted to see the island of Jibham. He had heard that it was a tropical beauty, with lush forests, high mountains, and plenty of game to be had. The only problem was that the natives of the island were rumored to be less than friendly to outsiders, not to mention the pirates that clung to the area like sharks on a carcass.

  “Maybe I could go to Kerras Island,” the elf told himself. “It is supposed to be just as beautiful as Jibham, but not as densely populated.” He let his mind create images of pristine lagoons and sharp, tall mountains covered with palm trees and coconuts. It would not be a bad way to live out one’s days. Best of all, it would be far away from the Elven Isles.

  Gloved hands took hold of Elroa, jolting him from his daydreams. One hand covered his mouth and the other pulled him to the edge of the bed. A moment later, Elroa felt his knife being slid out from its sheath.

  “I wouldn’t scream if I were you.” A man placed the cold steel of Elroa’s knife at the elf’s throat. “Besides, even if someone came to help, they would trigger your traps and die anyway. There is no help for you, elf.” The man slowly slid his hands away from the elf’s mouth.

  “How did you get past my traps?” Elroa asked in a nervous whisper.

  “It would take too long to explain,” the intruder replied curtly. “Give me the ring.”

  “What ring?” Elroa asked unconvincingly.

  “That tremble in your voice belies your innocence. Stop playing games now, or you will die slowly and painfully, I swear it.”

  “I don’t know what you want from me,” Elroa said. He opened his mouth to scream but the man covered it quickly and muffled the sound in his thick leather glove.

  “Wrong answer.” The man put Elroa’s knife to work slicing a star shape into the side of Elroa’s neck. Elroa squirmed with pain as the blade slid through his flesh. “Where is the ring?”

  Elroa tried to bite through the glove, but it was too thick to cause any damage to the man’s hand. The elf then lashed out with his fists, but nothing helped. His captor was far stronger than he was, and Elroa had no weapons on him.

  “I was
at your tower, elf,” Talon explained as the knife coursed down to Elroa’s shoulder, drawing a long line of red as it went across the elf’s skin. “There was no ring to be found anywhere.” The dagger slid down to Elroa’s shoulder blade and pierced down to the bone. Elroa jerked roughly, but the man held him fast. The elf twitched and convulsed, but he could not wriggle free.

  “I found the decoy letter, and the table. It was a nice trap, but a little elementary for something as precious as the King’s Ring, don’t you think?”

  Elroa steadied his breathing. He knew he had to act fast. He reached back with his hands, trying to rake his assailant’s face, but he barely managed to scratch the man before he was punched in the back of the head. Sharp ringing filled his ears and his vision was dotted with yellow and red spots that floated in front of him. Before he could move he felt the full, crushing weight of the man sitting on his back. A hand grabbed the hair on the back of his head and forced his face into the mattress. Another hand searched the elf.

  “So, where is the ring? I know Jahre gave it to you for safe keeping.”

  Elroa’s hands were pulled out to the side, one at a time, and each finger was stretched. Next, the elf felt a hand push into his right pocket. Elroa knew there were only a few copper coins that would be found there. The man shifted his weight and leaned to the other side as he pushed a hand into Elroa’s left pocket. The elf wriggled fervently, trying to cover the pocket with his body. The man wrenched the elf up and rammed his hand into the pocket.

  Elroa heard a satisfied growl above him and the man pulled something out of Elroa’s pocket.

  “So this is it?” A moment of silence ensued. Elroa tried to wiggle free, but the man held firm. “This ring is the sigil of house of Dailex,” the assailant announced as if Elroa didn’t already know. “Other people of the house Dailex have similar rings, but only the king’s ring used silver for the band around the emerald.”

  Unbeknownst to the man, Elroa had long ago fashioned a decoy ring. Normally he kept it in a glass box in the tower with a set of traps guarding it, but he had taken it with him in his hasty flight from the tower after Phinean had warned him.

  “The snake is an interesting symbol for a royal house to have, don’t you think?” the man asked.

  “Das no da wing,” Elroa shouted into the mattress. He wanted to keep the ploy up as long as possible to make sure that the attacker believed he had the right ring.

  “What’s that?” the man asked. The assassin slowly lifted the elf’s head.

  “I said, ‘that is not the ring,’” Elroa stated. “That is only a decoy, like the table and the letters at the tower. The real ring is already gone. I threw it into the sea,” Elroa lied.

  “I think not,” Talon stated as he shoved Elroa’s face back into the bed. “You see, I found another letter in your tower. It was written in Taish. I stopped by another little elf today and had him read the letter for me. At first he didn’t want to, just like you didn’t want to tell me where the ring was, but I eventually convinced him. Lucky for me that little elf even knew where you had been staying for the past couple nights. I was surprised to see that no guards had been posted outside your room, but I suppose that most of the guards are focused on your smoldering tower.”

  “You killed Jahre?” Elroa asked, managing to turn his head away from the pillow momentarily.

  The man laughed. “That I did. I also ran into your gnome friends at your tower. Though, I don’t suppose any of that matters now. I searched the room when I first got here, but as you know, the ring wasn’t here. It was nice of you to bring it back to me. I know that this is the right ring. The facts I learned before coming here were confirmed by the elf who translated your letter for me. So don’t try to lie to me in hopes that I will throw this away. I grow tired of your little tricks, elf.”

  The room grew quiet. Elroa closed his eyes and waited for the knife to end his life. The blade didn’t come. Something was wrong. It was too quiet, but the man was still sitting on him.

  A moment later the ring was pushed down in front of Elroa’s face.

  “Very clever,” the man said as he turned the metal band over near Elroa’s eyes. “But you should have used true silver for the band. Silver plating wears thin, and it never quite looks right around the mounting where the gem is. I’ll give you credit for effort, but the execution was poorly done.”

  Elroa opened his mouth to scream, but a massive fist collided with the side of his face and he lost all strength. A moment later he was flipped face up on the bed. The man dug his knee into Elroa’s gut and leaned with a heavy hand over the elf’s mouth. Elroa got his first good look at his attacker. A green, hooded cloak concealed the man’s hair and much of his face, but Elroa could see the piercing, green and gold eyes staring down at him. The elf couldn’t help but see the similarity between the human and Jahre. Suddenly it clicked for him. He knew why Jahre was so insistent that someone would come for the ring, someone who could undo the damage done those centuries ago. Despite the wide jaw and the heavy musculature, this man was a descendant of Jahre.

  The assailant leaned in close. Elroa felt his blade bite into his left shoulder.

  “Scream, and I will end you slowly, do you understand?”

  Elroa nodded.

  The hand lifted from the elf’s mouth. The human moved to speak, but Elroa cut him off.

  “You have Jahre’s blood in your veins, don’t you?”

  The man’s face flushed and a vein started to throb in his forehead. “I’m no elf,” he snarled.

  Elroa nodded. “You are. Why do you seek our destruction?”

  The hand came down on Elroa’s mouth hard and strong. The man leaned close enough that their noses nearly touched.

  “Tell me where the ring is.”

  Elroa shook his head.

  The knife cut into Elroa’s shoulder. The elf screamed into the man’s hand and tried to pull away. The blade twisted, sending fiery pain through Elroa’s body. The elf’s eyes shot open as wide as saucers, and tears poured from the corners.

  “Where is the ring?” the man snarled.

  Elroa shook his head.

  The knife slipped out of his shoulder and Elroa panted from breath. The man held the knife up over Elroa’s face. The elf saw his own blood gathering at the tip of the knife before gravity pulled upon a single drop and it splatted onto the elf’s forehead.

  The man pulled back and sighed. “I suppose you require more convincing,” he said.

  Elroa cast his eyes to the window. He knew there was no escape. The only thing he could do was try to wait out the torture until his body succumbed to death. As he stared out the window, trying to place his mental focus somewhere outside of his body, he saw something move. It was a wave at first, like the mirages caused by heat in the summer, but then it took form and moved in through the window. In an instant, Elroa saw the form of his old friend, Jahre.

  The elf sage looked upon Elroa with sad, burdened eyes.

  “Tell him where it is,” Jahre said in a voice that only the elf could hear. “He is our only hope.”

  Elroa shook his head.

  “Still won’t tell me?” the man mocked aloud. “Well then, I suppose I could start at your toes and work my way up. Have you ever been hung by your toenails before?”

  Jahre stepped up to the bed. Elroa glanced from the apparition to the man sitting on top of him, wondering if the human could see the ghost as well.

  “He can’t see me,” Jahre said. “He can’t hear me either.”

  Elroa groaned as he felt a sharp pain in his hip. He looked down to see that the human had stabbed into him from the side.

  “Oh, goodness,” the man said in mocking apology. “That is not your toe, is it?”

  Elroa hollered into the hand clasped over his mouth in protest. The man leaned in close and smiled widely.

  “I can do this all day. Tell me what I want to know, and it will be quick.”

  “Tell him, Elroa,” Jahre said again. “Let
him take the ring.”

  Elroa shook his head. He saw absolutely no sense in telling this madman anything.

  The human sighed again and leaned back, digging his knee deeper into Elroa’s stomach. A moment later the knife twisted in Elroa’s hip. The burning agony tore through the elf so fiercely that he nearly lost consciousness. His vision closed in, growing dark around the edges and the image of the man became fuzzy. Sounds slowed, and he couldn’t understand what the human was saying now, only that he was speaking.

  A harsh slap crashed into Elroa’s cheek. The sting brought him back to his senses.

  “I asked if you are ready to talk yet.”

  Elroa’s eyes went to Jahre. The sage nodded.

  “He is my grandson,” Jahre said. “I know it doesn’t look like it now, but he has the power to save us all. Give him the ring, and trust me. I have a plan.”

  “Well?” the human asked as he shook Elroa.

  Elroa sat motionless for a moment. Tears filled his eyes and then he nodded. The hand backed away from his mouth. The human grinned widely again and cocked his head to the side slightly.

  “Well then, tell me where it is. I promise I will end it quickly.”

  “It is buried at the foot of a great oak tree,” Elroa said. “It is a ten minute walk from here. Go east into the forest. When you come to a bluff that overlooks a small valley with a tear-shaped pond, you will know you are in the right place. Turn to the south and you will see a majestic oak tree. The dirt is freshly dug. I put the ring there only this morning.”

  The man leaned in and narrowed his eyes. Elroa felt pressure on the knife in his hip.

  “How do I know this isn’t another trick?” the man asked.

  Jahre moved in closer and spoke to Elroa. “Tell him that his grandfather still has hope for him. Call him by his name, Talon, and tell him that I am here.”

  “Look at me when I am speaking to you!” the man growled.