Burden of Stones

by James Dale

  Eventually, minutes or decades later, they came to branching corridor. At the center of the intersection was a tremendous door. It was at least twenty feet tall and half again as wide. A bar of steel the width of a sturdy oak secured the door and links of chain as thick as his wrist held it in place at either end. Four mighty hinges embedded into the bedrock anchored the door to stone. One of the hinges was loosened, dangling by a single bolt. Evidence of the damage Graith had done to the Word when he had freed the Seven Dukes of Hell centuries ago. Red light, swirling like tendrils of noxious poison, seeped around the broken hinge and through a split in the rock reaching halfway down door.

  The Spirit of Yh’gar the Sa’tan.

  The evil behind the door stirred at their arrival, sensing the power they carried.

  A voice like thunder assaulted Jack’s mind. “Release me!”

  Jack staggered back a step. Long Tooth whimpered like a frighten pup.

  “Release me!” the voice commanded.

  Jack drew more power into himself from Sunheart, steadying his will. “Release you?” He replied, embolden by the strength flowing through him. “Yh’Adan damned you here. I come to see you stay put.” Jack raised Yhswyndyr and pointed the blade at the door.

  “Something comes!” Long Tooth growled, raising his shaggy head to sniff the air, but his warning came too late.

  A streaking shadow erupted out of the darkness, night encased in night, colliding into Braedan with the force of an avalanche. He was knocked from his feet and Yhswyndyr flew from his grasp. He felt the crushing weight of Ul’gogrond assail him, and for an instant, despair filled him. Instinctively he cried out the Ailfar words of power. Yhaires Sinalda! Enne’Eyloyas! Daeon Cythora!” The link to Sunheart wavered, then the power of the Godstone came rushing back into him. Hope and light was restored, but there was still something pinning him to the ground. Jack’s vision cleared and he saw the huge paw of the na’Ghomari resting on his chest.

  It was not…could not be, simply one of the creatures the men of Whesguard called “Hell-beast.” The same monster from his dreams. Those creatures were just animals after all. They were fearsome and deadly to be sure, but still just animals. A mortal creature could not survive the horrors of Ul’gogrond, even those twisted to the dark side. He knew in an instant the na’Ghomari’s flesh could only survive in this place with the indwelling spirit of a demon. Knowing this did not change his dire situation however. The Hell-beast opened its gaping jaws, revealing yellow, foot long fangs.

  An instant before it could close its cruel jaws on his exposed throat, a streak of light struck the demon, driving it off his chest. The Hell-beast and the light tumbled to the stone of the corridor, rolling and attacking each other with tooth and claw. Long Tooth! Even protected by the power of Sunheart, the wolf was no match for the demon. With a mighty sweep of razor sharp claws, the na’Ghomari struck the wolf on his flank. Long Tooth was thrown into air, trailing a shower of fur and blood. The wolf collided with the stone wall of the corridor and collapsed, motionless.

  It was all Jack needed. Without conscious thought, Yhswyndyr was in his hands. Grasping the sword once again filled him with resolve. He regained his feet as the Hell-beast turned back towards him. “Tiene!” Jack commanded in Ailfar and flame erupted from Yhswyndyr, righteous and vengeful.

  The demon possessed na’Ghomari charged with a roar, but overconfident from its easy victory over the Long Tooth, its attack was clumsy and reckless. Jack easily evaded the swipe of the monster’s claw, and thrust his blade to the hilt into neck of the demon as it thundered by. The monster’s momentum threatened to rip the sword from his grasp, but Braeden was prepared for this and held on tightly, riding the na’Ghomari to the ground. The baleful red glow of its eyes was extinguished in the space of a heartbeat, its head almost severed. It shuddered once and then grew still. Jack did not know what happened to demons slain by the power of Sunheart, but he hoped at least the fallen angel had been banished to some dark corner of the Underworld.

  Jack struggled to his feet, placed his foot on the monster’s head and wrenched the sword free. The flame of Sunheart instantly incinerated the monster’s blood. When the flame receded, the blade was a pure as the day it was forged. Braeden rushed quickly to Long Tooth’s side. The wolf clung to life by a thread, his spirit slipping away by the second. He could feel it in very marrow of his bones. He drew power from Deathbane, the Sword of Life, without conscience thought, meaning to heal the old wolf, but words suddenly filled his mind.

  “Finish it,” Long Tooth beamed weakly. “Seal the door.”

  “But…”

  “Finish it!” Long Tooth howled, his powerful mind banishing all thoughts but to seal the breach in the Sa’tan’s prison cell. Jack struggled to his feet once again, and faced the door to Gol’gar’s cell.

  More words filled him now, seducing words, tempting words, spoken by a being almost as old as time itself.

  “Release me, and I will make you a god,” Yh’Gar promised. “I will give you the knowledge of the power of creation. I will make you the immortal ruler of all the earthe. Any pleasure you desire can be yours. Angels will bow at your feet. Release me and…”

  “Silence!” Jack howled. In another incarnation, on another world, the Lord of Shadow had made similar promises to mankind. Like now, those promises were lies, spoken by the Father of Lies. They had brought only pain and suffering to the human race. Filled with the righteous power of Sunheart, the temptations of the Sa’tan were putrid swill in his ears. Braedan raised Yhswyndyr and pointed the blade at the door. “Damned you are and damned you will stay! Yhaires Sinalda! Enne’Eyloyas! Daeon Cythora!” A flame as bright and focused as the heart of a star…as the heart of the sun, erupted from the blade and struck the damaged hinge. Sparks flew from steel and stone crackled and snapped like burning kindling.

  Yh’Gar’s wail of fury shook the Underworld like an earthquake. The ground trembled and stones as large as man’s fist fell from the ceiling of the corridor.

  Jack ignored the Sa’tan, building the same wall around his mind he had used to block out the fallen angel Hae’adan. He continued his work as the Sa’tan’s promises of power and knowledge became desperate, pitiful pleas, equally as fruitless. He guided the beam of fire along the broken hinge, fusing it into the surrounding stone. Down each side of the door he directed the flame like an artist painting his crowing masterpiece. When he completed a circuit of the door, the Sa’tan’s cry was silenced. The Word had been repaired. The Lord of Shadow would trouble the Land of Dreams no more. Jack lowered Yhswyndyr and rushed to Long Tooth’s side. He scooped up the wolf in his arms and said a single word.

  “Greenrun.”

  Instantly the horrors of the underworld were replaced by an open, starry sky. He laid Long Tooth tenderly on the thick, grassy carpet of the plain. The wolf clung to life by the narrowest thread. Jack summoned more of Sunheart into himself, enough to banish the encroaching hand of death and restore a long parade of lost years to animal…to his Wolf-brother…to his friend.

  “Let him go,” a voice behind him said softly.

  Jack wheeled to face the speaker and found himself looking at a being of indescribably beauty and strength. The man…the angel…stood at least twelve feet tall, taller even than Maelcain of the Jhar’kirin. The angel was dressed in linen of purest white covered by silver armor. At his side hung a sword as tall as a man. A crown of golden, flowing hair fell to his shoulders and he regarded Jack with eyes of piercing blue, full of ancient wisdom, but compassion also.

  “Let him go,” he repeated. “He has run his race.”

  “I can save him,” Jack cried.

  “You have already saved him,” the angel replied kindly. “Let him rest now in honor…in peace. He will be the first of his kind to enter the Bosom of Yh. But not the last.”

  “Who are you?” asked Jack.

  “I am Gabrael,” the angel replied. “Captain of the Host of the Most High.”

  “Why…
why didn’t you help us? Why haven’t you repaired the Sa’tan’s prison?”

  “My brothers and I are barred from Ul’gogrond,” Gabrael answered simply. “If I…if we do not obey the words of our Father, in all things, we will become no better than Hae’adan or the Seven. The Word imprisoning Yh’gar was damaged by the hand of humankind. The task to repair it belonged to hand of humankind…it was your task Son of Bra’Adan.”

  “But Long Tooth…”

  “Died fighting the Lord of Shadow,” the angel interrupted. “A deed which shall be rewarded. The reward will also extent to many of his kind. Snow Dancer. Winter Stream. Thousand more when you tell them what he has done. Sadly, it will not be offered to them all. Thousands have already answered the call of the dark-King and the Bloodstone. They are beyond succor. There are others you can still save Son of Bra’Adan. Annawyn daughter of Ellgenn is slipping into shadow. Her spirit is broken. She has fallen under the Lord of Shadow’s sway. You have silence him but his taint on her soul remains. If you want to save her you must be swift. Even now Graith moves to complete her damnation. He knows what you have done. He knows what you mean to do still. Cleansing the Land of Dreams will be a great advantage to you in the coming war. It will deny him an avenue to do harm on the earthe. He also knows damning her will break your spirit, shatter your will beyond repair. Be swift Son of Bra’Adan. Save her and you save yourself. I will bear Long Tooth myself to the Bosom of Yh.”

  The truth of his words filled Jack with urgency. Anna was his reason to live. Without her, he cared little what would happen to the rest of the world. With a nod of resignation, he turned to look one last time at Long Tooth. But he was gone! Jack turned quickly back to Gabrael, and found the angel cradling the old wolf in his power arms like a youngling pup. Not an old wolf, but young and hale and noble! The same image he had been conjuring in his mind’s eye when he meant to heal his friend.

  “You are wasting time, Great Lion,” Long Tooth said, raising his head to regard Jack with a look of impatience. “Finish it.”

  “Finish your task,” Gabrael repeated. The angel lifted his head to the sky, then looked once more at Braeden. “A warning I will give you. Do not challenge Graith, Son of Halbar again until the time comes for you to destroy him. You are strong, but he is stronger. For the time being. And do not attempt to draw too much power from Sunheart. Already I see it wears on you. You are no good to Aralon of damaged mind. The Staffclave needs you fit…and sane.”

  “Finish it.” Long Tooth insisted.

  With that, Gabrael and Long Tooth disappeared in the twinkling of an eye.

  Long Tooth was right. He had work to do. He looked up at the starry sky. Using Sunheart, he pierced the veil obscuring their true nature. With the power of Yhswyndyr filling him, they weren’t merely stars in the Land of Dreams, they were the essence of the dreamers themselves. Each point of light represented someone sleeping, someone dreaming. Ailicia had shown him how to enter them on their first Dreamwalk. To cleanse the Land of Dreams, he would have to enter all of the dreams…at once. Gaebrel had warned him not to draw too much power from Sunheart. To do this, he would need to draw even more than he’d used to repair the Word and seal the Sa’tan back in his cell.

  He didn’t hesitate. Anna needed him. To save her he would pull down the very foundations of the earth. Jack focused on Yhswyndyr, opening himself to the power of Sunheart. Answering his desperation, it flowed into him like a raging river, infusing every cell of his being. The blood in his veins became white fire. He let it fill him until the very breath in his lungs could bring a hurricane of destruction. His soul quivered with righteous fury. On the very edge of drawing every ounce of power the Sunheart could offer, the very power to destroy worlds, or create new ones, the power to become…like a god, Jack regained control of himself and reversed the flow, channeling power back into the blade. It was harder than he had imagined, having so much power fill him, then releasing it again. He had almost…almost become lost. He continued to release the Sunheart’s rage, retraining just enough to do what was needed, then pointed Yhswyndyr at the sky.

  “Yhaires Sinalda! Enne’Eyloyas! Daeon Cythora!” His shout was like the eruption of a volcano. Fire shot from the blade toward the heavens. It detonated against some unseen barrier, the flame branched into tongues of white lightning, spreading out across the sky. Each tendril of flame searched out an individual dream until a latticework of power reached each star, each dream.

  Thousands, hundreds of thousands of dreams rushed into his mind. He accepted them all though they drove him to his knees. Nightmares assailed him, dark and horrible. Monster, wraiths, demons, every foul creature that stalked the night and hunted the helpless filled his mind. Only the power of Sunheart within him protected his sanity. Slowly Jack stood. Yhaires Sinalda! Enne’Eyloyas! Daeon Cythora!” he cried again and began to build a wall around the dream world.

  It was difficult at first. The nightmares fought back. But they no longer had the Spirit of Yh’gar to give them strength. On the edge of his senses, Braedan could feel Graith fighting to break through the wall, but it was too late. Even with the Bloodstone the dark-King could no longer enter the Land of Dreams. The dream wall’s foundation had been lain with Sunheart. The only way Graith could come here again would be to destroy it completely. Destroy Sunheart. Jack tuned out Graith’s ineffectual rage and continued his work. When the wall was completed, Graith’s voice was silenced.

  Alone now as the only power in the Land of Dreams, Braedan began to hunt down the monsters trapped within. First one nightmare, then another he banished. Those first few became ten, then a score, then hundreds, until the nightmares began to flee of their own accord. With the power of Sunheart, Jack chased them all down, one by one, incinerating them with a thought. When every nightmare across the entire Land of Dreams was banished, Jack began to replace the horror of the dreamers with hope. Yhswyndyr and Sunheart was not only Deathbane, it was Lightbringer. It was the Sword of Life.

  “Fear your dreams no longer,” Jack said. His words were heard by every dreaming soul, from the farthest north in the Reach, to the hot southern jungles of Zslonandar. From Lordsisle to Khazin-Akbhor the words echoed in the minds of the dreamers. “The Lord of Shadow is chained. He can trouble you no more. The dark-king is banned. He can trouble you no more.” For the people across the earthe who could not understand the common tongue of the Aralon or the language of the Ailfar, Jack spoke to them in a vision. He showed them Yhswyndyr, and how he had repaired the Word guarding Yh’gar’s cell. He let them feel a small portion of the Sa’tan’s ineffectual rage, then all of his desperation and fear as he sealed him in to his eternal doom. He allowed them to listen to the silence where before there had been the whispers of the dark-King. Where there had been despair and dread, he showed them hope. Most would remember this night as only a dream, and like most dreams it would only be vaguely recalled, a fleeting, partial memory when the sun rose again and roused them from their slumber. As nights passed however, and their nightmares did not return, many would recall the vision if not his words. They would remember. Remembering, they would have hope. Hope was enough for now.

  There was one task remaining for Jack. He released the power of Sunheart. It was no longer needed. Or wanted. This task the Dreamwalker could do unaided, as a man, as a husband, without the power of creation filling him. He sought out the star he knew so well, bright blue, shining brighter than all the rest. He found it easily. Anna’s star.

  “I am a thread,” Jack said, repeating the words Ailicia had taught him, ages ago it seemed. “I am the dream.”

  He found himself beside a stream, in an open grassy field. He recognized it instantly as the place where he had found Annawyn his first time Dreamwalking. It was only natural she would seek out this place in her dreams. It was a place of comfort, of simpler times, a place where she was a princess, dreaming of a pirate whom she loved, who she hoped loved her in return. She was lying beside the same willow tree. Annawyn shook from heart
wrenching sobs.

  “Anna,” he said softly.

  She turned at the sound of his voice. The look in her eyes, the crushing pain of betrayal, was so overwhelming it almost broke his heart. “Leave me alone!” She wailed, trying to flee from him. Instinctively, he reached out to Sunheart, using a power he did not know existed until he needed it.

  “Stop!” he commanded, his voice now filled with the power of Compulsion.

  Anna was instantly anchored in the Land of Dreams, unable to escape. She struggled against him, against the force holding her, shaking with fury. With a final wail of frustration, she grew still, fixing him with a glare of such unnatural hate and rage he wanted to weep. There was an aura of foulness surrounding her. The taint of the Lord of Shadow that Gaebrel warned him of still lingered, clouding her mind and infecting her soul like a cancerous parasite. It radiated off her in waves, like heat rising from burning desert sand. Braedan knew he could use the power of Sunheart to burn the sickness from her, burn it out like searing an infection from an open wound with hot iron. Yet he feared how healing her this way would affect her. He feared how it would affect him. Holding her against her will, even in her present state, made him physically ill. He realized if there was any hope of saving her, she would have to willingly release the foulness oppressing her soul. Jack released the power of Sunheart and the Compulsion controlling his wife.

  “Anna,” he pleaded, falling to his knees before her. “Please don’t go. Please? Let me speak. Hear what I have to say, and…and if you don’t believe me, I will leave you in peace. You will never see my face again.”

  “Speak,” she replied, her voice as cold as ice.

  “What you saw,” he said, trying to summon the right words to penetrate the sickness in her. “What you think you saw, was a lie. They were whispers from the Lord of Shadow. It was Graith using the Bloodstone, using it to warp our dreams. To drive us apart. I have…he will never be able to do it again.”