by Nick McNeil
At least Polly could still warn the Academy. But Bertly feared she wouldn’t get help in time to save all of them.
“I-I-I do not care about this e-e-elf. Wh-where is-is my r-r-red-eyed human?” the barbarian leader snapped.
“Felix, it’s getting dark,” the woman in robes insisted.
The scrawny, white-haired man’s lips quivered. His hands and body shook as though he were shivering, his dagger loosely dangling in his hand. “P-p-put them in the-the c-c-carriage. M-Mother w-w-will decide what to do w-with them.” Felix tightened his grip and stabbed his blade into the pale bandit’s stomach. The man crumpled to the ground. “M-make sure those ch-children d-d-don’t have any more t-t-tricks up their sleeves.”
A group of executioners closed in on Bertly and the twins, and they didn’t resist. The boys were patted down, their pockets cleaned out, and their travel sacks taken away. The guards grabbed them by the arms and escorted them to a steel-gated carriage a couple of dozen paces away down the road. The group of bandits had several horses, fully supplied, along with multiple carriages in the forms of jail cells. Bertly, Roderick, and the twins were just a few of many prisoners who had been captured.
Felix approached the caged carriage and stuck his nose between the bars. “M-Mother h-h-has been waiting for you, B-Bertly.” The leader patted the side of the carriage, and the horse attached lugged the full caravan.
“I killed them.”
Bertly peered over to his apprentice, who was sitting next to him. Roderick’s face was blank, his cheeks weren’t red, nor did sweat drip down his head. “They were catching up to us, so I collapsed the trees behind us and I crushed them all. I didn’t even think about it.” Roderick’s head bobbed with each bump in the road. “I just did it.”
Bertly felt callous. He knew he should’ve been riddled with emotion, but the ones whom he cared for the most were still alive, and keeping them alive was his main priority. He had been here before, with Alestar, and he wasn’t going to let it happen again. “You didn’t have a choice.” Bertly scooted closer to his apprentice. “Polly has to get back to the Academy. They need to know the Rotters have spread.”
“What do you mean ‘spread’?” Orin asked.
“Don’t you mean ‘returned’?” Orîn added.
Bertly cleared his throat. “Yes, of course. Polly needs to warn them that the second Blight has returned.”
“No.” Roderick sat up and pulled his head back. “That isn’t what he meant. He meant ‘spread.’” The apprentice scooted away from Bertly. “You already knew about them…didn’t you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. We’ve been through a lot, and I simply misspoke. Roderick, please.” Bertly wasn’t lying. He had misspoken. He was never supposed to tell anyone what he had seen.
“Where did you go?” Orin asked.
“When?” Bertly replied.
“With Alestar. Where did you go?” Orin demanded.
The Winter Wizard remained silent.
“Where is Alestar?” Orîn questioned.
“I’ve told you before. He went back to Eskos,” Bertly responded. His fingers jittered, and his foot started to tap, seemingly of its own volition.
“No, where is he?” the twins bellowed.
The master took a long exhale and looked away from his companions. “He’s dead.”
The twins gasped.
“Is that your old master?” Roderick inquired.
Bertly nodded. “He took me on a trip to the Decomposite to retrieve a rare artifact, my warblade…Cordelia’s warblade.” Bertly untied his hair and picked out the leaves and twigs left behind from their battle. “When we arrived, the city was in ruins. It wasn’t long before we were attacked by a massive swarm of Rotters. But it was different. They were in order; they didn’t seem so…untamed. They had a leader and they followed orders.” Bertly shook his head. “It was nothing like their behavior today. We walked several leagues on foot and never encountered a single one. But these men, they say they’re everywhere now.”
“They had a leader?” the twins probed.
“Yes, they followed…its orders. They were just as brainless and lifeless, but somehow obedient. These men have no way of controlling them,” the Winter Wizard informed them.
“That means something—or someone—specifically controls them,” Roderick added. “But who, or what?”
“I am leaning toward someone.” Bertly lifted his head. “They worked in perfect unison, as though they were following orders. It wasn’t until we had slain their leader that they started acting savage.”
The twins shouted, “But who is bringing them back?”
“Only Cordelia knows.” Bertly placed his finger over his lips for the boys to lower their voices. “What if Cordelia didn’t end the first Blight, but simply put it to rest? She is the only one who discovered the source, and when she did, as the story goes, she sacrificed her life to end it and to save all of Pangea. But what if she didn’t kill the source?”
“You’re so selfish,” Roderick spat through clenched teeth. “You knew all of this and you didn’t tell anyone.”
Bertly rammed his hand and arm into the steel bars surrounding them. “Of course I told someone. It was the first thing I did.” Bertly grabbed his apprentice by the shirt and yanked his face within inches of his own. “I went to the Academy. I told them everything. Of the Rotters. About Alestar. Everything. And you know what they told me?” Bertly pushed Roderick back into the steel bars. “To keep my mouth shut. Not to tell a single soul. I did try to do something, Roderick, and the Academy swept it under the rug. You have to understand if I acted out, they would have expelled me, stopped be from becoming a master. I never would have even had the chance to soul-bond. I would have become nothing.”
A terrified scream blasted through Bertly’s ears. “Rotters!” a man cried. Chaos had broken loose.
A handful of decayed dark blue elves thrashed their bodies into the carriage, rocking it side to side. Roderick and Bertly jumped to the other side, next to Orin and Orîn. The Rotters’ arms stretched into the caravan, their hands desperate to grab ahold of living flesh.
Screams from both the living and dead created songs of horror. The mist and trees were gone; the students were out of the Remnant Forest. However, night had fallen, and Bertly’s field of vision was limited.
“This carriage has a lock.” The twins squeezed past Bertly and hustled to the door of the carriage. “That means we can pick it.”
“I’ll keep them distracted,” Bertly exclaimed. “Lightus.” The Winter Wizard snapped his fingers and a small ball of floating light materialized. “Lightus,” he repeated several times, creating multiple light sources. The lights floated around the Rotters next to them. Bertly spun his finger in the air in concentric circles, and the lights twirled around the rotting elves. The decayed creatures stopped growling and retracted their arms while their eyes followed the lights around and around.
“It’s working, sir!” Roderick cheered. The dead creatures broke their concentration and glared right at Bertly’s apprentice. Roderick’s eyes widened.
“Roderick, you fool!” Bertly yelled.
“Got it,” the twins shouted as they kicked open the door.
Encompassing the surrounding area were hordes of Rotters swarming the group of bandits. Black blood from the decaying creatures was sprayed everywhere, blending into the white bone on the ground and the dark soil. The thieves’ numbers were dwindling as scores of undead trampled over their collective.
Bertly led the way. “Hurry, back to the forest!” The boys scurried out of their cage and booked it for the misty trees. They weaved in and out through dead elves and hopped over the dismantled bodies scattered around.
“N-n-not so f-f-fast.” Felix stepped in front of the students and held out his hand with his palm facing up. The bandit leader put his half-opened fist next to the Winter Wizard’s head and blew. A white cloud of dust struck Bertly in the
face. His body froze, and he felt nothing.
XXII
Bertly’s head throbbed, and every bump along the road only exaggerated that pain. Lying unconscious beside Bertly was his young apprentice, and just in front of him were the dwarf twins.
The students were locked away in a different steel caravan, but now accompanied by only a few of their kidnappers. The Winter Wizard assumed these beaten-up soldiers were all that remained after the Rotter ambush. Bertly surveyed the remaining savages until the titanic structure down the black dirt pathway stormed into view and diverted his attention.
A magnificent brick-faced colosseum rested atop a two-step platform. The elliptical amphitheater rose seven stories, six of which consisted of arched walkways. Each archway was divided by detailed, engraved columns. The top floor was without arches and had rectangular windows spaced evenly apart. Front and center, at the base of the colosseum, was a grand entrance with statues and shrines displayed on each side of the entryway.
“S-s-say h-hello to your n-new home.” The bandit leader walked next to the horse-drawn carriage and ran his dagger across the steel bars—the tinny ring succeeded in waking Roderick and the twins.
“Welcome to the Zoo, where tens of thousands come each day to watch fighters from all over Pangea.” Strutting along next to the bandit leader was his consultant, the woman in robes. “This is the main hub of the Decomposite. Almost all residents of South Pangea live within a league of the arena,” she continued.
“Fighters?” Roderick bit his nails as he spoke. “I thought zoos had cute animals.”
“I think we are the animals,” the twins replied. Roderick’s face went pale as he slumped over in his seat.
The woman smiled and placed her hands together. “Every day Mother hand-selects each matchup, providing her children with nothing short of the greatest entertainment in the whole world.”
“Every day?” Roderick shouted.
Felix smashed the handle of his knife against the metal bars. “S-s-stop interrupting.”
The young elf bit his tongue.
“While there are fights each day, most soldiers do not fight more than once per cycle. If you are loved by the crowd, Mother saves you for the full moon.” Voices sounded up ahead, and mingled between the loud banter were the sounds of children playing. Such mundane noises emitting from this deadly place caught Bertly by surprise. The Winter Wizard couldn’t imagine a youngling growing up in the Decomposite.
The poised woman continued, “If you win one hundred matches, Mother will adopt you and make you one of her children. Other than being born here, it is the only way to be granted freedom in this region.”
“N-n-no one ever w-wins their f-final match!” Felix laughed riotously.
“Very few have ever won their final bout.” The woman closed her eyes and smiled. Bertly couldn’t tell if she was happy or humoring her master. “But maybe you will have better luck. Cordelia was one of those lucky few, and you two seem to have a bit in common.”
The white-haired man spat on the ground. “Wh-why are you g-g-giving them h-hope?” he snarled.
“I am not giving anyone hope, Felix.” The woman glanced at Bertly. “I am merely informing them of the Zoo and its history, per Mother’s request.”
“If a-any of you th-th-think you’re g-getting out a-alive, g-guess again.” Felix reached through the steel bars, indiscriminately grabbing whoever was nearest to him—squishing Roderick’s face against the metal. The bandit leader seemed much stronger than his frail body let on. “S-s-since C-Cordelia, Mother h-hasn’t let anyone g-get away.”
“Since Cordelia?” Bertly questioned. “That’s not possible. That would make Mother—”
“Over three thousand years old, right?” the woman interrupted. “You will come to learn that things in the Decomposite are not always as they seem.”
“What does that mean?” With his lips pressed against the bars, Roderick could barely push out his words.
Felix placed his dagger against Roderick’s cheek and slowly dragged his blade down Roderick’s flesh, slicing a small, thin slit across his face. “I s-s-said no in-interrupting. N-n-next time it’s a-an ear.” He released his grip, dropping Bertly’s apprentice to the floor.
The Winter Wizard lunged forward, but the twins restrained him.
“Oh, B-B-Bertly, you h-have sh-shown your weakness.” The man’s comments didn’t register—I am already at his mercy—how has he not yet discovered my weakness? Also, how does the man know my name?
The roar of the crowd carried throughout the village. Vendors with wooden stands were sprinkled around the perimeter of the colosseum. The adults wore colorful and decorated clothing while most of the children wore masks and costumes. The décor was nothing like Bertly had anticipated; despite the ground being black, the wizard couldn’t see another dark shade of color anywhere. The arena was littered with visitors who could be seen walking around inside. The arches shined from their gold plating and were clustered with attendees of every race, including giants.
“We’re here.” The remaining bandits surrounded the carriage with their weapons in hand, awaiting the robed woman’s orders. “Please, no one try to be a hero,” she said. An executioner unlocked the door and stepped back, fumbling over his feet as he walked away. If Bertly could have guessed, the slayer seemed scared of them. The boys stepped out of the steel wagon. “Bertly, please come with me. Mother would like to greet you personally.” Two executioners grabbed him by each arm and another placed his blade against his back. “It’s just precautionary,” the woman insisted.
“S-s-send the h-h-half-pints to th-the c-cellars. I-I-I will t-take the elf.” At those orders, the bandits seized the twins and Roderick.
Orin slapped at the hands of the savages. “Don’t touch the merchandise.”
“We can walk just fine,” Orîn shouted.
The bandits stumbled back and drew their swords.
“Fine, but no funny business,” a woman retorted.
Bertly’s apprentice was dragged by his armor straps and tossed at the feet of Felix. “You’re c-c-coming w-with me.” The thin bandit latched onto Roderick’s hair and marched off.
“Where are you taking him?” Bertly screamed while trying to break free of the executioners’ grasp.
“Master Bertly,” the robed woman said.
How does she know I am a master? Bertly wondered.
“We understand your abilities far surpass our own, but please, mind your confidence, and do not make us do something to one of your companions,” the woman continued. “Please follow me. I am sure you have many questions for Mother.”
“I have a few,” Bertly grunted.
“Delightful! Mother loves her pets to be curious.”
The Winter Wizard was led around the back side of the colosseum, where there stood a wooden gate guarded by dozens of well-armed soldiers. As soon as the soldiers caught a glimpse of the approaching group, they rushed to open the doors.
“You somehow know my name. Do I have the right to know yours?” Bertly asked.
“Airas.” The woman’s smile formed wrinkles on her normally smooth face. “Come, up these stairs.”
Bertly assumed they were in an area closed to the public since the noise from the guests became muffled and there was almost no foot traffic.
Bertly hiked up a spiral staircase that seemed to ascend forever. The steps were tall, coming up to Bertly’s knees. “Has Mother ever invited a dwarf to visit her?” the wizard cracked.
Airas chuckled under her breath. “Only a select few have ever stepped into Mother’s quarters. And no, a dwarf has never been inside.”
The guards followed close behind Bertly, keeping a blade to his back at all times. “What is she like? Mother?”
Airas looked over her shoulder, her eyebrows cocked at Bertly’s incessant curiosity. “Not how you’ve imagined.”
The group rounded the curved stairway until they were cut off by a p
lain wooden door. The robed woman paused and turned around with her hands folded in front of her. She gave a small wave and the bandit escorts holstered their weapons. “This is where we leave you. Mother is waiting.”
“You aren’t coming in?” Bertly asked.
“No, and I don’t suppose I ever will.” Airas knocked on the wooden door. “I look forward to watching you battle on the playground, Master Bertly.”
By the time Bertly opened his mouth to ask another question, the robed woman was already rounding the corner and heading back down the stairway. The door creaked, and a woman stood behind it.
“You’re shorter than I imagined,” she said, peering down at Bertly with her eyes squinted so that her long thick eyelashes obscured the color beyond them. Her figure suggested she was human or elf, but her height fit that of a giant. Bertly was captivated by the way her figure blended together so organically. Her hourglass-shaped body and perfect complexion had the Winter Wizard mesmerized. She blinked in slow motion, her eyelashes as beautiful as butterflies flapping their wings.
“I…um…I’m actually, uh, quite tall for my…” Bertly wiped the sweat off his forehead. “Species. For a human. For a human I am really tall.” His mouth wouldn’t stop spewing words. “Most people are not as tall as me.”
“I remember Cordelia being taller.” The woman smirked as she spoke—the slight pull of her lips almost made her look innocent. “Don’t you come from a line of mammoth blood?” The woman turned around. “That is quite a rare bloodline, you know.”
“I-I know.” Bertly stood stiffly in the doorway.
The woman must have detected his tension and sought to relieve it as she waved her hand toward the room. “You can come in.”
Bertly tentatively stepped inside, trying to move normally despite the tension in his muscles. The room was elegant and designed in a style Bertly didn’t recognize. It was simple with minimal decorations, and every piece of furniture looked as though it had never been used. The furniture was stained white, and the floorboards were a light rustic brown. In the middle of the room was a figure of some sort with a sheet covering it.
