She forced a smile and pulled her cloak tight to stave off the chill. Willing her staff to illuminate their surroundings she realized they stood within a small cavern. At the far end, a fissure dropped away at a dizzying angle, its walls close enough to allow them to use their arms to brace themselves. The staff’s light didn’t penetrate the inky darkness far beyond where they stood. With any luck, the fissure wouldn’t suddenly open up into nothingness.
A scream piercing the wilderness a little while ago led them to the horses’ tracks.
“There.” Karvus pointed at the horses he and Tygra had ridden weeks ago. The same horses the witch and her companion stole from them. The woman claimed to be the Wizard of the North! He almost laughed out loud. Preposterous. A woman? And the people of Zephyr said the Kraidic Empire wasn’t to be trusted.
The witch appeared to be on foot now. Karvus had no doubt he and Tygra would catch her in no time. Kraidic warriors made a living trekking across rugged, frozen countryside. He doubted the magic user relished such a journey. Nor did her companion appear suited to traipse up a mountainside. Neither of them had any meat on their bones.
On the far side of the horses, the sign of a recent avalanche grabbed his attention. Two sets of footprints led from the remains of a small campfire to the base of a steep rock face. Surely, they hadn’t scaled the cliff.
Tygra returned to him after searching the area. “They must’ve climbed.”
“For the love of the serpent, what would possess them to do that?”
Tygra shrugged and checked on the horses.
Karvus craned his neck. The afternoon sun glinted off the heights. He took a swig from his waterskin.
Tygra joined him. “They’re fine as long as it doesn’t get too cold. Lots of grass around the trees.
Karvus appreciated his personal aide. Judging by his words, Tygra had already reasoned he was about to climb the mountainside.
Tygra drew from his own waterskin. “By the freshness of the tracks and horseshit, we are close behind them.”
Karvus stared at the cliff face. “Excellent. A woman in robes will be easy to hunt down in the mountains. They must’ve slipped over that ridge. I look forward to seeing her fly.”
Wendglow’s Warning
Why they had to seek Wendglow’s advice, made Sadyra angry. The longer they tarried in Apexceal, the greater the chance the chambermistress had of getting wind of their plan.
Alhena had explained to Captain Thorr what they were going to attempt, emphasizing that until everyone in Apexceal were upon the open seas, it was imperative no one else knew of their subterfuge. After the goings on at the Chamber of the Wise, he stressed that Helleden might have spies in Apexceal.
Why the Voil elder had to be included in the discussion puzzled Sadyra. She’d survived the Under Realm and all of its bizarre occurrences. The portal, Debacle Lurch, the voices, the death of a creature Rook referred to as Seafarer, the showdown with Thetis who just happened to be a monster in disguise, Silurian’s brush with death at the hands of another Voil wizard, and the battle on the Dead Plains—all of it. Although Alhena vouched for Wendglow, Sadyra found it hard to place her trust in the misshapen Voil leader.
However, she trusted Alhena implicitly. After learning that he had lied about his identity, Alhena had taken great pains to explain the profound reasons for his deception to her and the rest of the ill-fated Under Realm quest. Though most of what he told them didn’t make a lot of sense, Captain Thorr and Rook had sympathized with the old wizard and that was good enough for her.
“Come on, Pops, we need to get out of here. If Helleden’s army catches us, everything will be lost.”
A warm breeze blew across the baron’s gardens, frolicking in her auburn hair. The moon dropped in the night sky and it wouldn’t be long before the early birds commenced to greet the new day.
“Aye, Master Alhena. The girl is wise. You must hasten from here at once. The baron will be strained to get everyone out before all hell descends upon the city.” Wendglow raised his bushy eyebrows at Sadyra, his wrinkled face, covered with moles, broke into a toothy grin.
Sadyra shuddered despite herself—the Voil wizard was loathsome to look upon. His scaly claws clutched a twisted, dark wood cane etched with snarling faces of creatures she had never seen before, nor ever wished to meet.
Alhena patted Wendglow’s skinny thigh. “Wise is not an attribute I openly admit when describing dear Sadie, but I agree, our time here draws to a close. There is one more thing I must do before we leave.”
The jibe wasn’t lost on her, but she was in no mood to respond. “You’d better make it quick.”
The garden gate squealed open. Sadyra jumped, a dagger in her hand faster than anyone present could register.
Two elderly women approached bearing a steaming bowl of what appeared to be water and a set of straight-edged knives.
“Sadyra, no!” Alhena’s stern voice commanded. “They are here for me.”
Sadyra barely resisted cutting the woman closest to her.
“It is high time I shaved.”
Sadyra blinked at the daft, old man. “Shave? Helleden’s demon horde is about to crash the gates and you need to shave?”
Alhena offered a demure smile. “One should always look their best when travelling with auspicious company. I need you to gather the others and bring them here. Be sure to obtain heavier clothing.”
Sadyra was reluctant to leave him alone but she respected Alhena’s prowess. He wouldn’t go down easy.
Alhena motioned with his hand for her to leave. “By the time you return I shall be ready.”
She sighed, on the verge of expressing her discomfort, but swallowed her words and passed through the squeaky gate.
The eastern horizon brightened by the time Larina, Pollard and Rook accompanied Sadyra back to the where Alhena waited.
The empty buildings of Apexceal were beginning to take shape in the first light of dawn. Other than the troops guarding the Forbidden Pass road, the entire population had boarded the fleet in the harbour. Boats and ships of all shapes and sizes were sailing out of the inlet at the bottom of the hill.
In Sadyra’s mind, Gerrymander was the finest ship on the sea but it certainly wasn’t the biggest. Apexceal had been spared the brunt of Helleden’s firestorm, and as such, her fleet had remained relatively untouched.
Pollard held the gate open and stepped aside to allow the two elderly women out before he ushered his own group into the garden area.
Sadyra stopped and stared. Wendglow sat on the stone bench talking to an emancipated man resembling a dying gargoyle.
Larina ran ahead and dropped to her knees, clasping the gargoyle’s bald head and clean-shaven face in her hands. “Pops? What in the actual hell did you do to yourself?”
Pops? Sadyra squinted. Sure enough, the saggy fleshed, white-eyed visage of Alhena smiled at Larina.
Larina gaped. “For the love of hell, Pops, you look like you’re dead.”
Alhena emitted an embarrassed chuckle.
Sadyra stood over him, almost knocking Larina aside. “What would make you do something like this? If not for your eyes I would never recognize you.”
“Did you think someone stole my clothes?”
“Well, no, but…”
“If we are to sneak up on Helleden, it would not do to show up at his gate with a wizard, would it?”
“I guess not, but wow. You sure look, um, different.”
“Aye. We must travel inconspicuously.”
Sadyra frowned. “Inconspicuous? Are you serious?” She directed her gaze to Pollard. “With him? He’ll be spotted as soon as we hit the Undying Mountain Pools.”
“Heh. Actually, we are taking a different route. Scouts report the Kraidic host is marching down Redfire Path.”
“A different route to Gritian? With both passes blocked that only leaves…No. You can’t be serious.” Sadyra stepped back, looking at the others for help.
“I am deadly serious.�
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“But I thought Silurian and Avarick reported that the southern span of Treacher’s Gorge had fallen.”
“It is a good thing you travel with a wizard.”
“What if Helleden moves?”
Alhena raised his eyebrows. “Not to worry. I will find him.”
“You’re full of surprises lately. Too bad you weren’t as forthcoming when we needed help a few months ago.” As soon as she spoke the words, she wished she could have them back. Alhena had already explained himself.
“I’m sorry, Pops. That was uncalled for.”
Alhena’s pale lips curled upward. He reached out and grabbed her hand. “No apology necessary my dear. I understand.”
The sound of the rear-guard fast marching past the baron’s garden on their way to board their designated boat made Sadyra’s nerves jump. They were out of time.
Rook cleared his throat. “I hate to break this up, but we need to move. Captain Thorr will be anxiously awaiting Master Wendglow.”
Alhena planted his staff on the ground and used it to help him stand. “Aye, it is time.” He turned to Wendglow to assist the old Voil.
A commotion in the garden behind the bench made Pollard, Rook, Larina and Sadyra grab for their weapons before they realized it was Wendglow’s litter bearers.
Of course, Sadyra thought, Wendglow’s personal support staff. Despite her anxiety at still being in the middle of Apexceal, she smiled seeing the orange-furred Yarstaff bound forward, bearing one of the front corners of a makeshift litter—Wendglow’s old pallet had been left behind in the Under Realm.
Seeing Yarstaff healthy again made her heart glad. His condition had remained dubious when their small group fled to Madrigail Bay following the calamity in the Chamber. It wasn’t until Gerrymander rounded the horn of Ghost Island on their way to Apexceal that Yarstaff snapped out of whatever malaise Helleden’s demon had placed him under.
Wendglow held a shaky paw up to halt the litter bearers, and clasped Alhena’s free hand within his scaly claws. “A word of warning before you depart.”
Sadyra followed everyone else’s lead and stepped in closer to listen.
“Helleden possesses the means to detect the presence of magic. He will not be taken by surprise if you accompany them.”
Alhena nodded. “Aye. I suspect as much. Thus, my hiatus all these years. Do not worry, Master Wendglow. I, too, have a few tricks left in me. We shall see who is surprised when the day draws nigh.”
Wendglow shook everyone’s hand and climbed aboard his litter. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, I sense our time here has expired.”
With the sun on their backs, the covert band of five, led by a bald-headed wizard, trotted toward the city gate—everyone listening anxiously for the sound of pursuit, but so far, Helleden’s troops hadn’t reached the far end of Apexceal.
Crossing the barbican’s threshold, everyone turned to the impressive flotilla of ships sailing toward the western horizon.
Alhena worried his little band might be spotted from the rails of the ships but there was nothing to be done about it. If there were spies amongst those aboard, they wouldn’t have much to report, other than seeing a few stragglers leaving Apexceal along South Shore road.
According to Baron Io, the Apexceal armada would meet up with a flotilla setting sail from Ember Breath—Zephyr’s southernmost seaport.
Besides Pollard’s extreme height, there was nothing to give away the identity of the group. With Pollard sitting atop a large horse, even that distinction would prove difficult from such a distance.
“Wait up!” A booming voice sounded from inside the city gates.
Alhena’s milky white eyes widened.
Loping toward them on bowed legs came the ample stomached, sloughed shouldered, blue-eyed, giant helmsman, Olmar. He bounded down the roadway pulling a huge, brown and white horse behind him.
“Waits for ol’ Olmar, me laddies and lassies. I’s to be accompanyin’ ya.”
Larina clapped a hand to her forehead, a huge smile lifting her freckled cheeks. “You’re supposed to ride the thing, Lunkhead, not drag it behind you.”
Alhena’s stomach dropped. So much for remaining inconspicuous. He’d shaven his head for nothing. One quiet giant amongst their ranks was bad enough. With Olmar joining the group, they would be lucky to sneak up on a corpse.
Sadyra turned to Alhena and rubbed his bald pate. “This is just grand, eh Pops? The whole gang is back together again!”
Denizens of the Dark
Silurian jumped down from a narrow ledge at the bottom of the second fissure and looked around. He stood in a small cavern bisected by three crevices around its perimeter.
Melody dropped down beside him, her staff illuminating the damp grotto; the uneven floor, awash in shallow puddles. “Looks like this place channels runoff. I wouldn’t want to be here during the spring thaw.”
Silurian inspected each of the byways. The one closest to their descent climbed into the darkness beyond. The next one appeared to be a hole into nothingness. He kicked a pebble into the gap and listened but it never made a sound. The gap directly across from them also dropped out of sight. He kicked another pebble. It skittered off a stone before registering a distinctive plop, denoting water at its bottom.
“That’s the shaft the staff is telling us to take.” Melody walked up beside him, the ruby rune clearly indicating the last gap. She tipped the staff, its light showing a trough-like groove angling down to a shiny blackness. Several runes lit up as she did so. “It’s warded.”
“Great. Now what?” The last thing he wanted was to feel the sting of another protective charm.
“I believe if you hold my staff and we enter together the staff will dispel the effect.”
“You believe?”
“Well, ya. I mean, I’m not sure but it makes sense to me.”
“It makes sense to you…” Silurian muttered, considering his options. He couldn’t let her go on by herself. Nor could he risk entering the chasm without her. If the opening on the mountainside had been guarded by a fatal charm, there was a good chance this one was too.
“Well?”
“I guess I have no choice.”
“We don’t have to go any farther. We don’t even know if we’re doing the right thing.”
Silurian held the back of his head and turned a slow circle. He dropped his hands in front of him when he faced Melody again. “Your staff indicates that what we’re searching for is down here?”
“I’m assuming that’s what it’s saying.”
“Mother sent us to find the Gimcrack. To travel east up the Slither and descend into the bowels of the earth. What else could it be telling us?”
She shrugged. “It’s been wrong before.”
Silurian raised his eyebrows. “No offense, but I don’t think it was the staff.”
His sister stared at him. He thought she might break down and cry. She didn’t. Instead, a stern look darkened her features. This Wizard of the North business had changed her. Whether it was for the better, only time would tell.
“Do you have any idea what she meant about finding the key to your salvation?” Melody asked, changing the subject.
“No idea. I hoped she was going to tell us but suddenly she was gone.” He wrapped his hand around the staff. “There’s only one way to find out.”
“I’ll go first.” Melody dipped the staff into the cleft and stepped in, testing the slipperiness of the slope with her boot, the gap scarcely wide enough for one of them turned sideways.
“Well?”
“Seems okay. I didn’t feel much. There’s certainly something there, but it obviously allowed me through.”
Silurian studied the uneven edges of the gap. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary. He swallowed his nerves, grabbed the top of the staff, and sidestepped onto the descending trough-like ramp.
He emitted a high-pitched squeal through clenched teeth, thinking a shard of rock had impaled him, but as he stood panting, he in
spected himself. Nothing. Trying to calm his breathing, a muffled titter drew his attention to Melody.
She covered her mouth with one hand. His eyes followed her other hand, the one hanging onto the staff, as she touched a long strand of his hair sticking out.
He pulled backward only to get shocked forward again. “For the love of all that’s good! I thought you said you didn’t feel anything?”
“No. Well, not much. Hmm, strange. I’m thinking the staff spared you the worst part.”
“The worst part? I thought my insides were coming out.”
She examined herself. “I wonder? I bet it’s my cloak.”
“Your cloak?”
She held out a fold of her black cloak, its cloth stitched with barely distinguishable celestial shapes. “It’s a wizard’s cloak. It protects me from fire and…that’s it!” Her face lit up in wonder. “Lightning. The wards are a form of static power. Like tiny conduits of lightning waiting to be discharged.”
“You picked a fine time to figure that out. I’ve been sizzle-fritzed umpteen times now.” He glared at her, patting his hair down. “It’s a wonder I’m not bald.”
Melody giggled and started down the slope, careful to test her footing with each step.
“It’s not funny. Getting zapped by lightning can’t be good for me.”
Melody laughed even louder, the sound muted in the confines of the shaft but echoed in the chamber below.
At the bottom of the ramp, Melody’s staff did little to illuminate the vast cavern. High overhead, jagged stalactite tips were barely visible, seemingly suspended in the blackness. A glassy lake stretched into the darkness, its bottom unseen in the magical light. Other than a thin ledge along the walls, there was no way across the chamber.
Silurian scanned the walls in both directions. “What direction does your staff say?”
Melody consulted the rune. “Straight across.”
“Figures. This way is as good as any, then,” Silurian mumbled and started along the left rim as it curved into the darkness beyond Melody’s light. The walkway was precariously thin to non-existent but he didn’t need to look back to ensure she followed—her cocoon of light edged its way forward from behind him.
Into the Madness Page 4
