“Is that what this has been about?” Dariana asks, moving next to Timoran. Rubbing her temples, she tries to free the Feykin and put them to rest, but a chorus of twenty screaming minds knocks her away. “You feel alone and want to surround yourself with other people. There is a desire for revenge, but you really want acceptance.”
The twenty telepaths laugh in unison before Zohara replies, “No. We want to manipulate and destroy. People hate us, so we hate them. It’s only a matter of time before we’re attacked again, which means we need to strike first. The eclipse ritual would have given us the power to turn everyone in the jungle into our toys.”
“Living things are not toys,” Timoran growls, his knuckles turning white as he grips his great axe. Backing up several steps, he gauges the distance between himself and the grinning Barghest. “Given who created you, I can assume that you have no humanity. Yet I still wish to give you an opportunity to surrender. Again, I ask that you revive the Feykin as an act of good faith and maybe Delvin can help you. His power is great, especially if combined with Nyx’s magic. They can give you what you want without sacrificing lives.”
“All I hear is feeble begging from a helpless hero. Gabriel’s pawns are so pathe-”
Gray ooze spews from the mouths of the Barghest as the slender stiletto protrudes from Zohara’s throat. She gurgles in rage as her muscles lock and her stomach begins to bloat, which causes her skin to split across her bellybutton. Her brothers and sisters huddle together out of fear of what will happen, their control of the mindless Feykin steadily eroding. No longer feeling safe, they let their empty hostages fall to the ground and focus on psychically steeling their own bodies. It does them no good since the new threat is from the inside and determined to end their lives. The stiletto runs down Zohara and her siblings show the same injury, each one gaining a long gash from throat to groin. While the former priestess remains standing, the others collapse in a collection of ooze-seeping heaps.
Dropping the weapon, nimble fingers force Zohara’s wound open further and allow a booted foot to come through. Gasping for a sweet gulp of air, Sari drags herself out of the twitching creature that refuses to fall. Covered in gray slime, the gypsy crashes to the grass with another arm clenched in her hand. With a guttural grunt, she frees Phelan and the two fall at the feet of the dead priestess whose feet have bonded a circle of corrupted earth. Timoran and Dariana are by their side within seconds, the pair surprised to find that Sari is laughing. Tears stream down her cheeks as she clings to the other Feykin’s hand, his bloodshot eyes staring at her with no sense of recognition.
“Do I know you?” Phelan asks in a weak voice. He slips from the gypsy’s grasp and tries to sit up, but he can only lift his head. “I’m sorry, but can somebody tell me what’s going on. I don’t know any of you.”
“You were stuck in a nightmare,” Sari answers, forcing herself to stand. Scooping up her fallen stiletto, she limps away and refuses to look back. “It’s all over now. We’re just a bunch of wandering strangers who you’ll never see again.”
*****
Nyx wakes up to find that they are still in the swinging cage and Delvin is glaring at her. A warm line of drool is on her chin, which she wipes off after separating her body from the metal bars. The channeler immediately falls against the side that is facing the ground, her arm slipping outside and grazing a tree root before she yanks it back. She sucks at the bleeding scrapes on her fingertips and braces herself for another ascension, the sky already appearing to race towards them. Straining to get a look at the Tree of Creation, she barely makes out the bulky forms of trolls swarming over the temple. The only place that is clear of the beasts is a wide patch of leaves and branches that extends from the top of the oak.
“You were asleep for thirty minutes,” Delvin answers as he adjusts his position to work with the change of direction. He clings to the bottom and flips as the cage turns upside down while Nyx flops to what is now the floor. “The momentum seems to slow when it hits its apex, but I can’t figure out a way to use that to our advantage. From what I can tell, these are used to reach the various levels of the tree. Each one has a different length even though they all start at the garden. No idea why they’re spinning like this or how to control them. Do you think there’s a magical component?”
“I think I’m going to vomit if we keep going around,” Nyx groans, her stomach lurching as the cage starts swinging down. For a terrifying moment, the half-elf feels weightless and grips the bars out of fear of floating away. “There’s no magic involved, so it must be entirely mechanical. Either a part broke after years of not being used or the Barghest did something to turn it into a trap. Either way, I can’t focus enough to do anything useful.”
“What if you shrink the chain to pull us in?” Delvin suggests while lowering himself to be next to the sickly channeler. Putting a warm hand on her belly, he eases Nyx’s nausea and allows her to concentrate. “Grab the chain and I’ll hold onto you. My energy will help you focus and stave off the effects of spinning. This is the best idea I could come up with while you were taking your nap.”
Feeling energized and healthy, Nyx puts her hand on his and takes a slow breath to make sure she is comfortable. A distant roar draws her eyes to the tree where a solitary troll is flailing at the rotating chain. The creature catches the links in its claws and is yanked out of the branches to a chorus of bellows. It stretches its arm in an attempt to crawl toward the champions, but the upside down orientation leaves it disoriented. The troll slips and desperately tries to grab the chain again, its own weight foiling its efforts. With high-pitched squeals, the beast slams into the cage and bounces to the ground below. The adventurers chuckle when they see the monster stand and shakes its heads clear before calmly lumbering toward the entrance.
“I can shrink the chain and haul us in, but there are a few problems,” Nyx says as she gets in position. She blushes when her companion wraps his arms around her waist and a taste of his magic seeps into her pores. “Even if I start at our slowest point, our speed and rotation won’t change. There is also the chance that they’ll increase depending on how quickly I work the spell, which means the chain will snap. So this is probably going to end with a crash. More importantly, we have those trolls waiting for us. If we’re knocked out or injured then they’ll eat us. If we land in one piece then a big battle will start within seconds. Do you still want me to do this?”
“I trust you, Nyx.”
“I love you too.”
“Making up for lost time?”
“Yes and the words help me relax. Here we go.”
Nyx cracks her knuckles before reaching through the bars above her head and gripping the chain. A blue shine runs along the links while the champions continuing spinning, the entire length becoming enveloped after two full rotations. She waits for them to hit the sluggish point of the circle and retracts the spell that she is making up as she goes along. The sapphire energy steadily shrinks the chain, which brings the cage closer to the tree. Concentrating everything she has on the enchantment, sweat drips from Nyx’s face and she nibbles on her lower lip. Echoing stomps can be heard as the trolls race to where they think their prey will land, the monsters constantly moving back and forth. The half-elf stops for a moment out of fear of pulling them into the middle of the swarm, but continues when she senses that the spell is about to snap if left alone for too long.
As the cage swings toward the outer branches of the tree, the champions hear the creaking of metal from above their heads. Glancing at where her hands are touching the chain, Nyx watches as the connecting link starts to break away from the bars. She attempts to use her fire magic to weld the piece back into place, but the distraction weakens her other spell. The shrinking enchantment shatters and its residual energy races back into the channeler. Not expecting the power surge, Nyx instinctively releases the power, which causes her heat spell to destroy their connection to the chain. Sailing into the tree, the enclosure bounces among the solid branches an
d tumbles its way to the garden. They land with a crash in the middle of a patch of peppermint bushes, the door to the cage falling off from the jarring impact. Aching and bruised, Delvin and Nyx scramble out of the wreckage to face the trolls that they can already see through the trees and in the canopy.
The creatures stop and scream when they see giant sparks fly from the center of the Tree of Creation. Nyx puts up a shield to protective herself and Delvin, but she drops it when the warrior puts a comforting hand on her shoulder. A small explosion can be heard from somewhere inside the canopy and the champions watch the other cages stop spinning. The enclosures hurtle toward their original positions, shattering branches and banging off the trunk before careening into the garden. Acting like giant flails, the metal transports send packs of trolls flying, including one that hurtles toward the champions. Delvin and Nyx snap out of their confusion in time to dive away from the incoming beast, the pair having to roll immediately out of the path of a cage. They keep running as the garden is battered and trampled, pausing only when they find a large rock with a tunnel through its center. Safe within the solid structure, the adventurers peek outside to watch the chaos slowly dispel.
“I see some stairs that lead up, but the trolls are closing in on this side,” Nyx states from one end of the short tunnel. Flinching from the pain of a few broken fingers, she raises her arm to send a fireball at the unimpressed horde. “They might feel pain and burn easier now, but they don’t seem to care. We have to go out your side, try to lose them in the garden, and come back around.”
“Except that I have them over here too,” Delvin replies, backing away from the other entrance. He lunges forward to stab at the beast attempting to get inside, the glowing wounds exploding to send the predator crashing into the others. “Guess we could only run and hide for so long before Cessia took our luck away. At least we got to be honest with each other. Want to run out my side and go down fighting?”
“I say we hold our ground and draw them into the tunnel,” the half-elf replies, moving until her their backs touch. Juggling three fireballs, she calmly waits for the drooling trolls to get closer. “The dead can stuff the entrances and give us time to think of a plan. We can’t give up now. All we have to do is beat this temple, do the same to Dariana’s, kill the Baron, and then we get to do all the things that normal couples do. Romantic dinners, a wedding, kids, traveling, growing old together, and whatever else we want to do. I’m not ready to be eaten by, of all the things in Windemere, a damn troll.”
“Can you even spell surrender?”
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I like the word.”
“How close are they to you?”
“A few more steps before the first one gets inside.”
“Same ere.”
“Then we go down fighting.”
The words nearly drowned out by a roaring screech, the champions hear a familiar voice scream, “Make you go poof!”
On Delvin’s side of the rock, the griffin spirals into the horde of trolls and scatters the tightly gathered predators. Several of the beasts are mysteriously set on fire in her wake, the victims melting faster than any natural flame could accomplish. At the same time, the trolls advancing on Nyx are decimated by a disintegration beam that leaves behind only the smoking legs of the first three rows of creatures. Fizzle races by the entrance and comes around to attack the other side with a flurry of purple fireballs while the griffin repeats her attack on those that the drite missed with his spell. The pair continue switching sides until they drive the remaining trolls into the distance, the predators becoming crouched silhouettes that cautiously lurk in the drifting smoke.
“We fight here,” Fizzle says, the drite perched on the rock alongside the griffin. He points his tail at the stairs while turning to fire lightning at a solitary troll. “We drive monsters out of tree. Friends go top and finish. Run fast and Fizzle cover. Luke say still hungry. No worry if feast later.”
Delvin takes Nyx by her injured hand, healing the bones as they race out of the tunnel and toward the wooden stairs. Several trolls jump in their path, but the griffin swoops in to knock them aside with her wings. With a guttural mutter from Fizzle, a wall of blue flame follows his friends to keep the monsters at bay. The roars and screeches drive Delvin to enhance their speed and they bound up the steps, taking them in twos and threes. As they vanish into the canopy, Nyx notices a patch of gray in the warrior’s hair. Unsure if that was there before, she cannot shake the feeling that there is plenty of time for something else to go wrong.
*****
The two champions are surprised when they push through the last collection of leaves to find themselves on a short landing. Fringed by a silver railing, they are able to look out over the entire plateau. They can only imagine what the view would be like if the land was lush and alive instead of its current desolation. Clumps of dried grass and brittle eggshells are all that remain of the nests that once sat on the wide corners of the landing. Noticing a hint of red between two cracked planks, Nyx pulls out a crimson feather that is no bigger than her pinky. She lets it glide on a stale breeze before following Delvin up a rope ladder that runs along the bare trunk. As the pair get higher, they glance down to see silhouettes of furniture burnt into the surface of the landing. Bracing themselves for the worst, the champions finish the last leg of their climb and prepare for battle.
All they find is a circular room with parrots sleeping in the branches above and partial walls that stop halfway to the polished floor. The wooden panels that hang from the canopy are nothing more than hole-covered scroll cabinets. Instead of rolled parchment, the openings house cylindrical branches that run to a second tree growing out of the chamber floor. Gray and dripping with ooze, the plant has no leaves and it is held up entirely by its connection to the walls. Its thin roots run along the floor, crumbling whenever one of the champions happens to step on them. Sensing their arrival, the tree takes a shuddering breath and opens eyes that are of the deepest green. From the center of its head, the Compass Key appears and rises back into the sky where it casts multi-colored light on the sickly plant. A crooked smile appears in the tree’s brittle bark, but it frowns when it sees the fire in Nyx’s hand and Delvin’s drawn blade. Its gnarled top slumps forward, directing its eyes to the floor and a single tear falls to its drying roots.
“It appears you are here to fight. Please make my death quick,” the tree states in a gravelly voice. The sound of a sword being sheathed and the smell of fading smoke causes the creature to stand straight again. “Then we shall talk. I am Undrasi the Tree of Knowledge and I was to be the final test for the Birthing Land champion. Sadly, I am too weak to do much. Riddles and tests of energy are impossible for me to do since my mind is a quagmire. It is my own fault for teaching the children that appeared on my doorstep.”
“You raised the Barghest?” Nyx asks as she tries to approach the tree. She stops when she cracks another root and sees Undrasi shudder in pain. “Of course you did because you had no idea what they would become. I should have recognized your name from before. You’re the one who gathers all the knowledge of Windemere and saves it for those who seek you out. The legends say that you have no concept of good and evil, so you help all.”
“I know my own legends and they are skewed like all tales that people tell,” the tree replies with a coughing laugh. He whistles to call several of the parrots to his branches, their touch and presence giving him comfort. “I understand the concepts of good and evil, but I was created to house and share knowledge. Though many believe otherwise, knowledge is neutral and can be used for both sides of the scale. I had hoped the children would use their gifts for good while knowing their true intentions. Yet I am sworn to teach like I will now do with you. It was a surprise that they poisoned me and wished for all knowledge to be lost to the world. Such a foolish and impossible goal.”
Delvin bends down to touch one of the bigger roots and revive the wood, but a wave of fatigue forces him to stop. He flexes his hand, wh
ich has become stiff and the joints ache with a dull pain that reminds him of a time he punched another warrior’s shield. The root dissolves into powder at his feet, so he carefully makes his way to the clear circle that Nyx has found. Before he can stop her, the half-elf takes his wrist and examines how his hand is wrinkling. When she touches his face, he can feel her fingers tracing faint furrows beneath his eyes that were not there an hour ago.
“If you die then the knowledge is lost,” Delvin states, ignoring his companion’s concerned expression. A surge of his potent energy helps heal the damage, but a bout of vertigo drives him to his knees. “So it would appear that the Barghest had another goal that it might actually achieve. Unless there is another being that your knowledge will transfer to.”
“That is amusing coming from a fount and a channeler,” Undrasi states as he moves two of his branches out of their alcoves. Bark falling to the floor, the tree places its limbs on the champions’ shoulders to get a taste of their energy. “Both of your kind have disappeared and reappeared from Windemere many times. The fount is an accidental creation that has routinely emerged, glowed brightly, and faded away for centuries with no true pattern. Channelers were the greatest creations of Gola the Magic Goddess and could have ruled the world if they so wished. Sadly, their desire to remain away from global events has caused their multiple downfalls. So you can see, both of you are like knowledge. I may fade away and the information I have will go with me, but others hold much of what I know. The pieces that vanish shall be revived when somebody asks the questions that led to their discovery in the first place. This is why I say that the goal to permanently destroy knowledge is impossible.”
“That explanation really only creates more questions,” Nyx admits, her eyes repeatedly glancing at Delvin. The warrior looks a little peaked with sweat trickling down his pale brow and his breathing visibly labored. “You said founts glow brightly and fade away. Do you mean they burn out?”
Charms of the Feykin Page 36
