by Will Bly
To her surprise, Merek took over then, going it alone for a little while. There wasn’t room for another digger, as he worked the entirety of the hole, walking the length of it and keeping the ground level. His particular system wasn’t the fastest, but it proved effective. Soon enough, Irulen and Quinn hopped back into a well-manicured hole and started shoveling away. Farah walked Merek away so he wouldn’t be upset over the disruption of his pattern and process.
The day aged and soon the group discussed whether they should just go back to town for the night. Quinn pointed out that they hadn’t gotten far at all, and the night loomed. Neither Irulen nor Merek cared much either way. Farah thought a bed might be nice for the night, but she understood when Kay said she’d prefer not to return.
“We’re past that now,” she said. It was all Farah needed to hear. She backed Kay, and that ended that. New chores arose as the day stretched on, and each took a turn on finishing the grave. Food needed to be had, and camp needed to be set, and suitable terrain found. They didn’t fully set up camp before deciding to strike a simple fire and sleep outdoors. They were too tired to make everything nice.
A chill lingered in the air, winter and the north still not far gone, but it seemed warm enough, nonetheless. Perhaps a sign of things getting better, or perhaps a sign of something not so nice. Farah thought long and hard about the crawfish Thea’s family boiled. How they must’ve felt before being dropped into the pot. Farah shook her head at such thoughts. She’d always been better than that, but she felt herself slipping further into Irulen’s world.
And then the digging finished.
Quinn lowered the body to Irulen at the bottom of the hole. Farah passed down the head-bag, and Kay helped Quinn pull Irulen up once everything was set. They stood then, looking down at the dirty remains of their former acquaintance.
“What now?” Quinn asked.
“We push the dirt on him and call it a day,” Kay replied as she grabbed a shovel.
Irulen put his arm up to stop her. “Nah, he’s right. It’s our fault he’s… like that. We should do better.”
Kay shrugged and put her hand out as if saying, Go ahead, then. Do better.
Irulen continued, “I didn’t really know the man well, I didn’t care to, and now I regret that I didn’t. I hope he rests in peace.” It wasn’t much, and Kay didn’t look too impressed, but it got the ball rolling.
Quinn stepped up next. “Ahem, this man here was a fine drinking companion. And he helped us gather the evidence Irulen needed to solve this past murder, so let’s not forget that. We might’ve grown to be better friends someday.”
Quiet fell as Quinn struggled to find words. The seconds stretched to the point of awkwardness, and Farah opened her mouth to intercede.
“But,” Quinn continued, “maybe we can take a lesson and be better friends now. Be better to each other.” A tear trickled down his cheek. Farah couldn’t help but go hug him. She felt his big paws wrap her up while he sniffled in her ear. Her hair was damp by the time he let her go.
“He was an interesting man, indeed,” Farah said. “And a scoundrel as we well know. It would be a disservice to rob him of his identity at this point. He had a knack for gathering mushrooms, and I’m happy he showed us that. I’ll probably think of him every time I cut a mushroom. Because of him, I smashed a man in the face with a mug. I never thought I had that in me. But I’m glad it happened, I’m glad that’s a part of me now. And I’m glad Leofrick is a part of me now.” Farah stepped back.
Merek spoke, and it seemed to surprise everyone but Farah. “Leofrick lied to us, cheated. Maybe stole. But he was a funny man. Made me laugh.”
Irulen leaned in, waiting a moment for Merek to continue, but it never happened. “Well, that was nicely said, Merek.”
Merek nodded and smiled.
Irulen scratched the back of his neck. “Kay?”
“Mm,” Kay rubbed her mouth with her hand. “Eh, he was, um…” She brushed her hand by her ear. “He, uh, Leofrick… You know what? I didn’t mind him that much. I thought I did. I thought I should. But in the end, I didn’t. He talked a lot, annoyed me a lot, but I—I don’t know, I don’t know what to say. He didn’t deserve this. None of us deserve what we’ve been getting. But I do know that if he’s in the same ocean Irulen pulled me out of, well, it isn’t that bad of a place to be. Like falling asleep inside a dream. I’m glad to be back, don’t get me wrong, but I didn’t mind it so much at the time.”
She paused and laughed. “Maybe he’ll annoy the spirits so much they’ll send him back, although I don’t know if I can deal with being haunted by a Leofrick ghost. Ha. Could you imagine?”
Farah laughed more to make Kay feel good than from any real sense of humor. But still, what choice did they have other than to make light of death? When it follows us like a creeping wraith. Coaxing us with a finger.
“It’s getting late,” Irulen said as he crouched and grabbed a handful of dirt. He placed it in Kay’s hand and bent to scoop another.
Kay wavered and then tossed the dirt onto Leofrick. It scattered over his chest. After everyone dropped their handful, Kay walked past Farah and tugged her to come with.
Farah followed Kay as Irulen and Quinn pushed the day’s dirt onto Leofrick’s corpse.
“What are we doing?” Farah wondered.
“We’re going to go through those bodies before anyone else does. Luckily it’s been a slow day on the road with all the previous happenings and what not. The town must be rebuilding many things.”
They came to the road to find the corpses right where they were. Like a portrait of a time and place. One of the men had his hand outstretched as if he reached for life itself. The druid’s gruesomely mutilated corpse laid out, a look of shock etched onto the thing’s face. Thing, funny I should think of him that way, but what is he—some kind of creature? How old might he be? Where might he come from? Is he ancient? A remnant of the old times, of the Great Conflict? Her shoulders shuddered. “What do you think his story is?” she asked.
“Only part I know is how it ends,” Kay said as she hunched over him and started patting around. “Doesn’t carry anything on him. Gah, look at those ugly fingernails.”
“I really don’t want to think about those. I want to pretend they don’t exist. I’ve had enough ugliness for a day, or a lifetime.”
“Suit yourself. Will you pat down that man over there? He looks fairly well in tact. And not so ugly.”
Farah obliged. Kay was right, the man wore a fresh face and seemed fairly young. Irulen’s age, even. She pulled a piece of parchment out of his pants.
Stay safe, my love, and come home to your family.
As if she couldn’t feel sadder, this man had a family. She shook her head at the ridiculous nature of the revelation. I can’t believe what people are willing to do to support their families. The people they work for, the jobs the take on. At what point do you stop being able to look your children in the eye? How far will you go for money? How violent will you get in the name of opportunity? Who will you hurt to get ahead?
Unsurprisingly, the corpse had little to say. She huffed and continued rifling through his gear. She pulled a pack from underneath him. She placed food and other useful supplies to the side. Some of the stuff they could use, but she couldn’t be the one to collect it. She’d leave it out for the others to decide.
Somewhere along the bottom of the pack she felt something curious and pulled it out. Another piece of folded parchment, but this time something different. “Kay! Look at this. I think we found what we’re looking for.”
“Is it booze?”
“No, a map. To a cave.” She handed the map to Kay.
“Oh?”
“Do you think this is where we’re supposed to go? Where Ithial will be?”
Kay angled the map to catch the light. The day waned. “I don’t see why not. It’s in the same direction. Best lead we have yet. No more foundering in the dark, eh?”
Farah smiled, though
she knew she shouldn’t. Finding and killing Ithial meant peace, but peace never happens without the threat of blood. Will it be Kay we bury next? Or Quinn? Merek? Irulen? Will I be the next to die?
Nothing substantial turned up before Irulen and the others caught up to them. They all grumbled and griped as they moved the bodies.
Quinn especially. He griped while dragging one of the men. “What a way to kill a day. These numbskulls, coming here and starting trouble. Getting their guts all over the street.” He rolled the man down the escarpment along the road. Farah figured it must’ve landed near where they found Leofrick. “Now we gotta leave this rotten pile of meat next to the road without a story attached to them,” Quinn continued, “And hope that no one rounds up a militia to come find answers. I’d hate to kill people who don’t have a clue. I’d really hate dying to people who don’t have a clue.” He brushed his hands together before grabbing another set of legs. “One thing is for sure, we need to move. Maybe we shouldn’t stay nearby after all. People might start trickling out of the village soon, and this place will smell like demon ass soon enough.”
“He’s right,” Irulen said as he kicked the druid’s corpse into the ditch. “We can’t stay the night. We need to roll out. We can rest during the ride.”
“What about Suzie?” Farah asked.
“We’ll make it up to the mule. Give her a rubdown tomorrow and maybe some fermented apples. But she can handle it—we need to go.”
“I agree,” Kay said.
Farah agreed as well, as tired as she was. It made too much sense to get out before more trouble came their way.
Anything worth anything, they threw into the back of the cart. Within the hour, they were packed. Farah walked alongside the cart for a while before hopping in and taking an overdue nap.
Chapter 28: The Cavern
Ithial waited in the dark emptiness of the cave, a blueish hue emanating from the crystal around him. There weren’t many things that caused Ithial to feel, but a memory of Lynette sobbing tugged at where his sadness had once been. Somewhere resembling a neglected closet, or a vacant coffin. He always found himself drawn to her recurring sensitivities. Indeed, his curiosity always piqued during Lynette’s bouts of anguish. Even after all this time, all the rage and violence she’s perpetrated, she still carried a torch for the man. Before Lynette, Ithial had never before met an imp who demonstrated what appeared to be regret or some derivative thereof. She was a marvel, a true marvel.
Ithial couldn’t control himself when it came to her, although he could never quite identify what tied him to her so strongly. Is curiosity enough to forge such a strong tether? It’s certainly not love, or at least not how love has been generally defined, but it is something equally inescapable, nonetheless.
He would often find her dripping tears onto the stone floor of the room he had set aside for her at his castle. She often sat in an ornate chair near a window, looking out at a full, blood-red moon, unaware of his presence. Jet-black hair poured over the pale skin of her bare shoulders. The swells of her emotion heaved her body gently like a ship over water, a black nightgown ran from beneath her shoulders to the ground.
Ithial remembered one night as he entered the room and lightly cleared his throat to make his presence known. Lynette tensed at the intrusion and half-turned toward the door, revealing the profile of her face. Wet streams of her misery ran down the black imp-streaks descending over her cheek. Discharge dripped from a fine, pointed nose, and her eyes were vacant, empty. She acknowledged her visitor with a slight nod of the head combined with something impersonating a smile before turning back to her window.
The balls of his feet rolled as to minimize the disruption as he drew himself near. Her shoulders tensed even so, recoiled from the impending contact. Deciding to break the space between them, Ithial pressed the palms of his hands against her shoulders and brought his fingers to rest against her skin.
He spoke into her ear, “It’s alright, let the tears flow and be done with it.”
Her sobbing accelerated and grew louder as he advanced his hands around her chest, embracing her fully.
“You know, this Irulen of yours will never forgive you… He’ll never care for you the way I do.”
Ithial didn’t remember what happened after that. A drawback from his experience with the druid, perhaps, or some residual effect of losing his humanity. He was far too corrupted now for fond memories.
Too filthy.
The dark arena around him lingered in silence, just another layer to the darkness already clouding his mind. He wondered how close Irulen came to joining him in this void. In a way it made Ithial happy, knowing someone else would soon share in this desolate existence. There was nothing left for Ithial to lose. The time had come to bring Irulen to his level.
◆◆◆
The dark river ran into the yawning mouth of an obsidian cave. The grey light from the overcast sky shimmered off the polished, glass-like surface of the surrounding stone. The effect was dazzling, a sort of lunar glow brighter than the brightest night but far from the radiance brought by the sun. The water, crystal calm and clear, gently redirected translucent rays of light into the darkest crevices of the caverns. Wavy patterns splashed against their surroundings. Perhaps most stunning was what showed above and mirrored below. Celestial patterns of stars adorned the roof of the cavern and reflected in the water around them.
“What are those?” Farah asked.
“Glow worms,” Irulen replied. “Merlane told me about them once. They lure in prey with their luminescent beauty and trap them.”
“Do you think Merlane is still alive? Quinn told us about him…”
Irulen shrugged.
“Is this cavern a giant glow worm, I wonder? Luring us in… waiting to devour us?”
“Farah, you aren’t doing much for our morale at the moment,” Irulen replied.
“I’m sorry. I just get all flustered when things get tense.”
“What have I gotten myself into?” the boatman asked. “You people talking like that and being armed to the teeth with weaponry, smelling of violence.”
No one answered him at first.
They paid him a good price at the port to take them to the Crystal Caverns. Only the locals at the village of Guardian knew about it existing and, as might be expected, they guarded its secret well. The first few days of asking around for a boat proved fruitless, but this particular boatman, Hedley, proved to be an opportunistic chap. Irulen hoped the man wouldn’t die for it, but he was also far beyond worrying about particular lives in the grand scheme of things. Maybe this is a reflection of who I’ve become, or of who I’ve always been.
“Better you just don’t ask,” Irulen said finally.
“You know, I’m of half a mind to turn this boat around right now!”
“There’s four of us with paddles and a really well-trained attack-raven. I don’t see how you’d do that.” Four of us. I wish Farah stayed behind with Merek. Her and her damn destiny shit. But there she is with a single shot of boomstick in her hand. “It worked once,” she had said. So stubborn.
“Pah!” The boatman pointed at him. “So you are pirating my vessel, is it?”
“We paid you. You can’t pirate something you paid for.”
“I’ll give your money back.”
“Nope. Sorry.”
“Well, damn it to dragons, I’ll swim! Bring it back when you’re done. I’ll give you back a five silver deposit.” The boatman dropped his paddle and jumped into the black water. He swam as if his life depended on it.
Irulen shrugged and indicated for the others to keep paddling. The “boat” was actually flat and much more like a raft now that Irulen thought about it. The oars were long and they mostly stood to paddle.
“Do you think he knows Irulen has his power back?” Farah asked in a whisper.
Irulen found the whisper to be unnecessary, but he was used to Farah’s paranoia by now. “I hope not, but we should assume he does. And keep in mi
nd that it might have even been part of whatever plan he’s laid out for us.”
The river turned a dark corner, and the light from the cave entrance left them. Irulen lit two torches and placed them at the front and back of the boat. Luckily, the cave air stayed still enough to not blow smoke in their faces. The smoke rose harmless above them.
“I bet the glow worms won’t like that smoke,” Farah said.
Irulen reassured her and himself, “It’ll tickle them a bit. They’ll be fine.”
A strange voice echoed off the cave walls. “You should know, the crystallized makeup of this place. It’s the blood of the gods. Those large icicles above you? That’s the blood dripping. Same as the death diamonds, as you call them. They come from here. The Godsblood is a conductor just like it conducted their life force once upon a time. When a god dies, you see, they don’t cease to exist the way we do. Their power, their energy—it’s all shattered. The blood still does its job by moving energy.” This voice… Ithial.
“You brought us here for a lesson?” Irulen asked the darkness.
“Of course not, but I thought you would appreciate my research. It’s not every day you get to see something like this, is it? With knowledge comes appreciation, does it not?”
“I suppose, but knowledge breeds skepticism as well.”
“Perfectly natural, I suppose. But you won’t be skeptics after today, will you? And I guess I should thank you also for killing the druid. I’ve been waiting for him to receive what he deserves.”
“Must’ve been a bad man for you to call him a bad man.”
“Oh, yes. The things that druid did. I’ll tell you about Efram and the Blood Forest sometime.”
“Over tea?”
“Or ale.”
“You really think we’re coming out of this as friends somehow?”
“We’re going to do something miraculous. Miracles bring people together, no? And besides, I thought we got along rather well at that tavern not too long ago. I must admit I was impressed with how much I enjoyed your company even after you killed my Lynette. How are you feeling about that, by the way? Knowing you could’ve saved her. Could’ve brought her back from her demonic existence, had you cooperated. In fact, this was the very place I would’ve let you have her back if she’d chosen that.”
