Alhena met her stare, tears dripping off his cheeks. “We lost him several days ago.”
“Lost him?” Melody squeaked.
Sadyra stepped up to Melody, placing a hand on her shoulder, her voice wavering. “He died saving us.”
Melody’s mouth opened but nothing came out. Sadyra folded her into her arms as Melody’s grief set in.
Silurian couldn’t breathe. It was if a giant boulder had been dropped on his chest. His hands shook violently. He didn’t know what to say, nor where to look.
Alhena pulled him back into a hug. “I’m sorry. There was nothing we could do. We were ambushed crossing Treacher’s Gorge. If not for Rook, we would all be dead.”
“But…but…you’re a wizard. You can…bring him back. You have to.” He met his sister’s longing stare of despair. The hurt in those beautiful green eyes crushed him. He’d spent his entire life while in her company protecting her from harm but there was nothing he could do to ease her pain this time.
The unfairness of it kicked him in the stomach. After everything they had endured, Rook had survived the Under Realm only to die several days before they could be with him. Several days! He wanted to scream. Rook had lived through so much—he just hadn’t lived long enough to be reunited with the one person who loved him above all others.
Silurian stepped away from Alhena and went to her. She saw him and pushed away from Sadyra, letting her staff fall from her hand as she swayed before him, her body shaking, her lower lip trembling. She fell into his arms, crying hard, her breaths coming in fits.
Holding the dearest person in the world to him, unable to ease her pain, Larina’s warning that they weren’t safe sunk in, but he cared not. If someone killed him, they’d be doing him a favour. He was sure his sister felt the same way.
Melody stared at the flames of a roaring campfire on the northern edge of The Forke, her mind numb. Darkness settled over her thoughts, leaving her unresponsive to anyone except Silurian. Not even Phazarus had the ability to get past her grief.
She couldn’t accept Rook’s death. She couldn’t even think about it. Every time she envisioned his angelic face, his disarming smile, his intelligent, deep brown eyes, she struggled to breathe.
Silurian sat beside her, never once leaving her side.
Phazarus sat across the fire staring at only he knew what.
Of the others, they drifted in and out of her consciousness. She vaguely recalled them being introduced to Karvus. A heated discourse had ensued when Sadyra accused him of being one of Helleden’s spies, but Silurian interjected on the emperor’s behalf and explained the bizarre situation.
As for herself, she remembered not caring whether Phazarus’ friends executed Karvus or not. That she was capable of thinking like that scared her. Her lethargic mind had lost any sense of her usual compassion. She had nothing left to fight for. Her home atop Dragon’s Tooth was gone. Zephyr was gone. Rook was gone. If not for Silurian’s presence she would’ve drowned herself in the tumbling waters of The Frothe—she might still, once she assured herself Silurian would be okay.
The news had been no less of a shock to her brother. She knew he held tight to his true emotions for her sake. Rook wasn’t just a close friend to him. The quiet bowman had been a kindred spirit.
She feared for Silurian’s mental well-being. Now more than ever. He had been teetering on the brink of no return for the last while, she was sure of it. If the people of Zephyr had even the remotest chance of survival, it was up to her to prevent him from falling into the madness that forever lingered in the deep recesses of his mind. But, how could she do that when her own mental well being had been shaken to the core?
Rook had tried to save Silurian from himself many years ago. Only Rook knew how to reach Silurian through the darkness, but he was gone. Her brother had no one left. He obviously cared very much for Phazarus…Alhena, she corrected herself, but she knew Silurian better than anyone. She had seen it in his crestfallen eyes when he had learned of Alhena’s story. The betrayal he was feeling was plain to see.
Silurian’s moral character, stronger than most, had made him the unique hero Zephyr had once loved. Unfortunately, he didn’t suffer liars well or those who purposely misled him. Learning of Alhena had visibly destroyed the little spirit left to Silurian. Rook’s death had gutted him and snuffed the tiny spark of life left behind his ice-blue gaze.
Into the Madness
Silurian awoke next to Melody. He didn’t think he had slept, but he must have because dawn was breaking over the eastern horizon. He sat up and glanced around. Pollard and Sadyra huddled tellingly close to each other while Olmar and Larina also kept each other warm in front of the fire. Alhena busied himself preparing a pot of something Silurian couldn’t see. Of Karvus, there was no sign, but he had grown used to the emperor’s movements. Karvus would be scouting ahead. He wondered if the man ever slept.
Beside him, Melody lay awake, staring blankly at nothing at all.
He whispered, “Good morning,” but she didn’t respond.
He rose and made sure the blanket they had shared was tucked around her before he went off to relieve himself. He came back and settled down beside Alhena, trying his best to see the man in a new light. No longer the unobtrusive old man, but a person to be reckoned with according to the others.
Alhena had explained to him last night why he hadn’t exposed himself throughout the arduous trials over the last half year. By the end of the explanation, Silurian felt a little less betrayed and a lot more impressed. For Alhena not to react in the face of certain death, holding fast to the belief that he dare not expose him and Melody, could not have been easy.
Alhena claimed that any use of his magic would have alerted Helleden to his presence and brought the sorcerer’s demons swarming down on them.
“You may not like me anymore but please do not hate me,” Alhena said softly, not taking his eyes off the bubbling slurry in the pot. “That I could not bear.”
Alhena’s statement startled him. He didn’t know how he felt. Betrayed, for sure. It was hard to accept that Alhena hadn’t trusted him enough to confide in him before yesterday, but with regard to personal feelings, he wasn’t sure.
Melody had explained a while back why Phazarus abducted her. Learning that the man who had travelled with him into hell had not once bothered to mention she still lived didn’t sit well with him.
“You could have told me about her.”
Alhena stiffened. He pulled the pot from the fire and placed it on the ground. Retrieving two wooden bowls from his old pack, he dipped them one at a time into the porridge and offered one to Silurian.
Silurian grabbed the bowl without a word, careful not to burn himself on the gruel inside.
Alhena tipped his bowl to his mouth and blew on the contents. “Had you known, the Soul would have known, and thus, Helleden.”
“That doesn’t make sense. You said you didn’t know of the Soul’s existence before we went to the Under Realm.”
“No. I did not know of the Soul, but my fear was not misplaced. If Helleden had ever gotten his hands on you, he would have discovered the truth about Melody. I could not afford to have him turn his attention on my acolyte.”
“I thought you said she would be safe as long as she remained on Dragon’s Tooth.”
“More or less, but if she ever passed through the wards leading into the Gap, he would have known of it and hunted her down.”
“That makes no sense either. Why didn’t he have minions posted in the Gap? Someone as thorough as him, you’d think that to be an obvious deployment of his resources if it prevented any wizard from joining the fray.”
Alhena shrugged. “Be thankful he missed the opportunity.”
Silurian followed his gaze to his sister. She lay unmoving, staring at them. He smiled at her but she didn’t respond.
“I only hope she is up to the task ahead. Rook’s death may prove more tragic than we first thought.”
Silurian stared at
him.
“Is it true what Karvus told me last night? Helleden means to summon a dragon?”
Silurian nodded. “According to Mel, it is. She claims Helleden heads for a place known as—”
“The Summoner’s Stone,” Alhena finished for him, his face grim. “Aye, I know of it. Close to the small village of Fishmonger Bay.”
“You’ve heard of it?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Unfortunately?”
Alhena sighed and placed his bowl aside. “If Helleden is successful, we are in for one hell of a fight. Even with her mind fully focused on the task at hand, Melody and I cannot go up against a dragon and survive. Without our magic, there is no way any of you will get close enough to Helleden to make a difference.” He got to his feet and glanced at the others who were obviously listening to their conversation. “We have to stop him before he performs the ritual.”
Melody’s voice reached them from across the fire, her dark and dangerous voice gave Silurian the shivers, “Don’t you worry about me. I’m ready for that bastard.”
On most days, Silurian would have laughed at her choice of words but today wasn’t one of them. He shivered at the underlying hatred emanating from her eyes. It wasn’t his sister glaring back at him. It was a mirror of himself.
An eerie silence accompanied the eclectic group marching up the Storms End Route at a grueling pace. What normally took a horse three days at a steady pace, took them two and a half.
A grim-faced Karvus waited for them at the bend, a greasy fire lapping at the unrecognizable bodies of dozens of Kraidic warriors. A pile of weapons lay to one side.
“What happened?” Pollard asked, his great sword in hand.
The scowl on Karvus’ face would have sent most enemies running for cover. “Helleden must have gotten wind of me accompanying you. I can only assume he feared my men would be loyal to me when the time came and executed them.”
Olmar doffed his cap and put a comforting hand on the emperor’s shoulders. “A dark day, emperor sir. You’s amongst friends who’ll avenge their death’s or I’m a…” he swallowed, catching himself, “a person who doesn’t keep ‘is word.”
Karvus nodded his thanks. “If anyone needs armour or weapons, grab what you can.”
When no one said anything, Karvus spat on the ground and stormed up the trail.
A somber mood settled over the typically jovial Sadyra and Olmar—everyone lost in their own thoughts, concentrating on keeping pace as they closed the distance between themselves and Helleden.
Karvus had proven a godsend; the man’s fitness unmatched by anyone, including Sadyra and Pollard. The Kraidic emperor, weighed down by heavy furs, leather armour, and a great battle-axe only the giants could wield, scouted the terrain ahead for possible ambushes or traps—returning to report his findings more than once a day.
Silurian’s contempt for the man had undergone an extreme about-face. He went from desiring to kill him to feeling sorry for the lost lives of his men. He grudgingly came to the realization that he could trust Karvus with their lives.
He also appreciated Karvus assuming the role as their leader. The man was a natural choice, especially since Silurian’s zest for life had suffered a serious blow with the news of Rook’s death.
Silurian fought to keep his thoughts from spiralling into the depths of a place he dared not go. An old, familiar darkness pulled at him. One that had held him in its clutches for many long years.
If not for Melody, he would surely have lost all sense of his morality, and yet, even her presence threatened to carry him over the edge. She had shrivelled to a husk of the beautiful person she used to be. Granted, only a few days had elapsed since learning of her husband’s death, but the upbeat spirit that made her who she was, no longer guided her once insatiable zest for life.
He hadn’t reacted quickly enough to rid the world of Helleden. As a result, her vacant stare weighed heavily on his soul.
Alhena proved once again to be the boon that everyone claimed him to be. Silurian hadn’t been able to get Melody to talk much after that day at The Forke, but the old man not only broke through the mental barrier she erected, he had her talking, if only quietly.
Walking close behind them, Silurian listened absently to their conversation. They were speaking of things he had no interest in. Spells and charms and different ways to enhance the power of their staffs, but something Alhena said piqued his interest.
“When this is all over, I will accompany you back to Dragon’s Tooth one last time. I need to…” Alhena stopped in the middle of the path and grabbed her wrists. “What?”
Silurian noted the pained look in her eyes. It wasn’t grief. Something Alhena said had opened a new door of hurt.
She wouldn’t meet his gaze. “That won’t be necessary.”
“What will not be necessary? Returning to Dragon’s Tooth? Of course it is. I must if I wish to do as the Aberrator suggests.”
Melody’s eyes teared up. Silurian feared she was on the verge of a breakdown. He stepped forward to intervene, but the angry scowl she directed his way stopped him.
She met Alhena’s gaze. “We can’t return to Dragon’s Tooth. It’s not there anymore.”
“What is not there, child? The mountain? That is ludicr—”
“The cave.”
“The cave? What happened to the cave?”
“I blew it up.”
Alhena let go of her wrists and stared at her agog. “You did what?”
“I blew it up.”
“What would make you do that?”
She swallowed her unease and wiped at the tears on her face. When she spoke, it was as if she were a little girl being admonished by a parent. “I hadn’t planned on returning. I didn’t want the secrets to be found. I didn’t know what else to do.”
Alhena’s eyes were wild. “All those books?”
She lowered her head. “Gone.”
Alhena leaned forward, blinking rapidly. “Do you know how much information was in those books?”
“Are you kidding? You made me read them. Day after day, week after week, month after freaking month! I can write them out backward.” She crossed her arms and turned away from him. “Don’t worry. I plan on doing just that when this is over.”
“And what if you are killed before you do?”
She swallowed hard but continued to stare into the distance. Finally, she dropped her hands to her sides and let her shoulders slump. “I didn’t think of that.”
Alhena stepped over to glare at her. “You did not think of that?” He raised his voice. “That is just swell. Countless centuries of lore and magic, perchance lost because you decided to leave the mountain when I expressly forbade it. Do you know what you have done?”
She buried her face in her grimy hands. “I didn’t know what else to do. I thought I had to get Silurian back to Zephyr. You told me before you left me up there all by myself, that in order to defeat Helleden, it was imperative Silurian’s sword was imbued.”
Alhena threw his arms up in the air. “And it was! At the river! That is why we risked everything in the Under Realm!”
Silurian tried to interrupt but Melody spoke first, her teeth gnashed together in a futile effort to restrain the venom in her words. “No, it wasn’t, you old fool! He lost the enchantment fighting the Soul!” Her last words came out as a scream.
Alhena looked as if he’d been slapped hard across the face. He turned to Silurian for confirmation.
Silurian pursed his lips, raised his eyebrows and nodded ever so slightly.
Alhena stared at him as her words sunk in. He turned back to Melody, his hands out, pleading. “I had no idea, my child. I am so sorry.”
Melody crossed her arms again. “While you were off pretending to be someone you’re not, Silurian and I visited the Grimward.”
Alhena appeared about to swoon.
“We entered the Serpent’s Nest and harnessed the power of the earth blood fount.” She spun on Alhena, anger
in her eyes. “Something you should have done instead of dragging him all the way to the Under Realm.”
With that said, she stormed off.
The Storms End Route wound its way higher into the mountains toward the setting sun, the temperature dropping quickly. Silurian hunched his shoulders to shield his face from the drifting snow.
Alhena trudged along quietly. The old wizard hadn’t spoken a word since Melody had admonished him.
The soft voices of Sadyra and Larina conversing quietly behind them were heard whenever the gusts died down.
Pollard and Olmar clumped along a few steps ahead, doing their best to keep up with Melody—their bulk doing nothing to cut the biting wind for Alhena and Silurian.
Of Karvus, the only sign of his passing was the occasional boot print in the patchy snow.
Silurian brooded over Melody’s state of mind. He’d tried a couple of times during the day to speak with her but aside from the odd grunt of recognition, she wasn’t receptive.
The darkening sky behind them matched his mood. As hard as they marched, Karvus’ latest report had been that Helleden had put distance between them—they were still at least two days behind.
Providing he received no opposition, Pollard figured the sorcerer would reach Thunderhead late tomorrow.
“How long will it take him to summon a dragon?” Silurian asked Alhena.
Alhena didn’t acknowledge the question but after a while he said, “I have no way of knowing. No one has summoned a dragon in over five centuries that I know of.”
Silurian mulled that over. “Even if he is able to summon it with a quick ritual, surely it’ll take a dragon a long time to arrive. It’s not like they live nearby.”
“Tough to say. No one knows anything about the creatures anymore. There used to be colonies all over the land. The closest dragon I know of now, the only one, lives up by Lurker’s Lake in northern Kraidic.”
“So, for it to fly to Fishmonger Bay, that would take how long? If you had to guess?”
Into the Madness Page 26
