He blinked with a mix of horror and amazement. “Y-you cut my connection to the Dark Prophet?” He laughed. “Why would you want to free me?”
“Free you?” She arched an eyebrow. “Yes, I want to free you.”
Jhonate jerked the dagger out of his hand, then bashed him between the eyes with the handle’s bulbous base. Nod saw flashes of light and he nearly passed out. Shaken, he barely noticed as she caused the staff to untangle from his legs and straighten once again. She grasped the shaft of her staff and used it as leverage to make him climb to his feet.
Nod stumbled blearily, feeling the pain of the injuries to his hands, but knocked loopy. She pulled him along the flat surface of the mountain top and he tottered along with her, trying to blink away the dizziness. Then, grunting with the strain and the pain of her own injury she swung him towards the edge.
As he stumbled off into the emptiness, she had the wooden spikes withdraw back into the staff. Bewildered, Nod plummeted towards the rocks far below.
“Be free,” Jhonate said.
The satisfaction she felt at her victory was brief as pain lanced through her wound. Her side continued to bleed profusely, and she had seen the kinds of wounds that Nod’s sword made. A wave of weakness came over her and it wasn’t just loss of blood. The leaves she had chewed counteracted some types of poisons, but only weakened others.
Leaning heavily on her staff, she made her way to the altar where Seer Rahan had been sitting when they arrived. Groaning, she sat on the corner of the marble slab. She knew that she needed to remove her breastplate and bandage the wound, but first she needed to lie back for just a moment.
As she did so, her blood pooling on the altar beneath her, the pain fled. She looked up into the clear sky and realized that it wasn’t even cold up here. It was pleasant in fact.
Suddenly, though there was still plenty daylight left, she could see the stars. But it was more than just stars. Light filled her eyes and she saw everything.
***
“Twice named!” “EAT!” “Soft ones . . .” “Dwarf meat.” “Puppetmaster!”
The guardians called out in a cacophony of mental attack as Edge and his companions fought their way up the meandering stone stairway. Usually, the bond was an effective shield against spirit magic attacks, but there was something about these guardians that allowed them to get through the bond’s protection. Edge didn’t know if it was because their power was holy in some way or if they just weren’t using a traditional spirit magic attack, but whatever it was, their mental assault was effective.
“Slow!” “DEVOUR YOU.” “Snake.” “Frail thing . . .” “I’m hurt.” “Help me!”
The guardians called into each mind, pinpointing fears and weaknesses, all amidst the non-stop physical assault. They poured from the caves continuously. Each one was a different mutated conglomeration and the more that came, the sloppier their construction seemed. Some had three heads, some none. The size or lack of brain didn’t seem to matter. Others had two left arms or multiple legs. Edge saw one dragging itself along without any legs at all.
The thing they had in common was the wide toothy mouth in their chests. This seemed to be the only truly vital part of them. Edge had quickly discovered that the swiftest way to dispatch them was to slash at the sides of their mouths and sever their jaws. Without a way to bite, the beast would collapse lifelessly.
He and Deathclaw worked as a unit on the right side of the stairway. The raptoid whirled and slashed with sword and tail while Edge cut beasts apart with Peace and blasted them to the side with Rage. Body parts littered the mountainside and faded from view.
When a guardian was felled, its body simply sunk into the earth and disappeared. Edge didn’t know where they went. The only certain thing was that more kept coming.
“Short one!” “Dwarf King?” “Deserter . . .” “EAT you!”
“It’s like there’s a garl-friggin’ army of demented toddlers under the mountain assemblin’ these things from random body parts!” Lenny yelled, blasting aside a scaled beast with four arms and an insectoid head. Another creature rose up to meet him, this one a wide beast without skin, just exposed muscle and sinew.
There are theories about this, Artemus said as his elemental form flowed slowly up the path at the forefront of the group. He froze large swaths of them with his magic, then shattered them with thrown javelins of ice.
“Dead!” “Old one!” “Ghost.” “Freeze me!”
Some say that when this world was created, there were many unused parts and that the power of the holy site pulls them from there, said Artemus. Others say that these are the assembled bodies of creatures long buried or forgotten. I for one think that perhaps what we see is not real at all. Perhaps they are just mental representations of beasts and that the defense of the holy site is an entirely mental one.
They seem real enough to me! Fist said as one bit into his leg. He sent a shock through the thing and it fell smoking.
“An ogre . . ?” “MEAT.” “Master.” “So soft . . .” “MY FRIEND” “Wizard”
Fist and his bonded fought together on the left side in a tight group. He and Squirrel buzzed around with magically induced speed, the ogre pulping guardians with swings of his mace and Squirrel cutting them to pieces with blades of air. Rufus, grown huge, smashed guardians with his enormous fists or threw them down the mountainside. Sometimes, if he was bitten, he’d bite back, tearing them in two and spitting them out with a grimace.
The rogue horse was perhaps the most susceptible to the mental attacks. He didn’t take well to being mocked and fought with tears rolling down his black cheeks. Despite Fist’s and Squirrel’s encouragement, he started to slow.
The only ones completely unaffected by the attacks seemed to be the Bash Brothers. They kept to the rear and smashed aside guardians with their long magical clubs, sending broken bodies off of the stair with ruthless efficiency. They were a consistent force keeping the party from being overwhelmed from below.
“Bonding wizard.” “Worthless magic.” “She’s dead.” “DEAD.”
The fighting wore on and though they made steady progress, the way was long and the enemy was endless.
Despite his weariness being sucked away by Peace’s magic, Edge knew he was growing weaker. So were the others. No matter how powerful, everyone had limits.
Artemus had reached his. He exhausted his magic with a final freezing blast. With an apologetic sigh, he said, Any more and I lose all cohesion. Survive, Edge. I must rest. The elemental crumpled in a pile of icy snow and retreated to his home within Edge’s chest.
“Crap!” shouted Lenny, seeing the wizard’s retreat.
Edge moved to take Artemus’ place and waved his sword, blasting apart a slew of frozen guardians with explosive magic, and looked up the slopes. They were only halfway there. Had he doomed everyone?
“Dying” “Soon now!” “We will feast!” “Twice-named . . .”
Edge! shouted an excited voice through the bond. Edge! Edge! Edge!
A new source flooded through the bond, perking everyone up and Edge saw a shape descending the mountain towards him. The beast was a blur, ignoring the stair and bounding down the slopes with cat-like grace, scattering misshaped guardians along the way.
It was large, perhaps ten feet at the shoulders, and it ran on all fours. Its head was that of a lizard and scales covered its clawed legs and lower half of its body. A long thick tail whipped out behind it, knocking creatures aside as it went. Its back was covered in a short pelt of fur and there was a strangely shaped leather saddle strapped to it. Horse-like ears stood at the top of its shaggy mane.
Edge! she cried and her joy filled the bond. My tribe! I am here!
Joy bloomed within Edge’s heart and he didn’t let the sword steal it away. “Gwyrtha!”
***
As the lights faded from Jhonate’s vision, the things that she had seen started to fade from her mind. She tried to grasp hold of them but there was too much of
it. More than her waking mind could grasp.
She tried to sit up, but the pain that stabbed through her side was so great that it made her cry out. Grimacing, she rolled over and swung her legs down from the altar. She pushed herself into a standing position and grabbed her staff and dagger, still trying to remember some of what she had seen. These were important things.
She placed her dagger back into the end of her staff and nearly stumbled over the body of Seer Rahan. The old man was slumped at the base of the altar. She winced as she saw that some of her blood had dripped off to intermingle with his.
“Poor man,” she mumbled. How long had he been up in this place waiting? What did he eat up here?
Jhonate blinked and shook her head, realizing that she was still loopy. She was supposed to be bandaging herself, not looking around. Nevertheless, her eyes moved to the barrier and the archway that was attached to it.
To her surprise, there was movement on the other side. With one hand clutching her spear and the other clutching her side, she approached the barrier for a closer look. The thing that had moved on the other side came closer too, and she could make out a blurry figure. It gestured to her urgently, beckoning her closer.
Jhonate did so, entranced. She couldn’t make out what the figure looked like, but it was humanoid in shape.
The figure’s gesturing became more urgent and, as she watched, it pressed itself against the barrier. Doing this seemed to cause it pain, and she could make out the shape of a mouth opening with a cry.
“Do not!” she urged, holding out her hand pleadingly. “You will hurt yourself!”
The figure backed off somewhat and pointed towards the archway. Jhonate’s eyes focused on the four seals. Two were gray and one was white. The other one was black. It radiated evil. Instantly, she knew that she could destroy it with her dagger. That must be what the figure on the other side of the barrier was trying to tell her.
Her eyes bleary, her mind still fuzzy from the effects of poison and loss of blood, this made sense to her. The seal was evil. Her dagger destroyed evil. She moved towards the seal and lifted her spear to strike.
“Stop!” commanded a voice with such power and authority that the tip of Jhonate’s dagger came to a quivering stop inches from the seal.
She turned her head and saw a man that she recognized. His hair was brown and he wore a short beard and he was as familiar to her as a brother. Yet she knew that the moment she looked away she wouldn’t be able to remember what his face looked like. Except for those eyes. Those kind eyes. “John?”
“Sar Zahara,” the Prophet said. “Please don’t destroy that seal. It would be very bad.”
“O-oh,” she said and pulled the spear away from the archway.
John walked over to Seer Rahan’s fallen form and crouched next to him. With a sad sigh, he closed the old man’s eyes and reached within his robes to withdraw the folded paper that Jhonate had seen Rahan put away. The edge of the paper was bloodstained, but that didn’t seem to bother the Prophet as he opened it up and read.
“But . . . John, this seal is evil. There was a person standing there, wanting me to destroy it,” she said, but when she pointed at the barrier, there was no one there.
John looked away from the letter to the place where she had pointed, his brow furrowed with a look of anger. “I would suggest not paying any heed to people on that side of the barrier. If you had destroyed that seal, the sacrifices of many good people would have been for naught.” He looked back at the letter.
“But . . . Why is something evil allowed in this place?” she asked him.
“To erect this barrier required a balance. The combined power of all four prophets keeps the Known Lands separated from the rest of the world,” John replied.
“Then the black seal came from the Dark Prophet,” she realized, and blinked. “You said four prophets?”
“Yes,” he said, one hand stroking his short beard as he reread parts of the letter. “One of us stayed on the other side. But please don’t ask me any more questions about her. There are some things this world doesn’t need to know.”
Jhonate turned to approach him, but when she did so she winced and clutched at her side. Blood was once again running from the wound. “I think . . . this is a fatal wound, John.”
“No it isn’t,” the Prophet said absently and as he said so, the pain eased. He closed the letter and gave Seer Rahan a sad smile, then came to her side. “But it will need to be healed.” He held the letter out to her. “Most of what he says is for you.”
When she took the letter from him, his fingers brushed hers and the cloudiness that the poison had left in her mind faded. She stood a little straighter and gave him a grateful nod, then began to read. The letter began in much the way that the first letter had, with a few notable changes.
To Jhonate bin Leeths of the Big and Little People Tribe, Defender of the Grove, Daughter of Xedrion Bin Leeths, Wife of Sir Edge, Academy Graduate, Named Warrior, Seeress, Mother of Arriana and possible mother of many more,
Stunned, she looked back to John. “Seeress?”
“Well, a seeress in training, perhaps,” he said. “Keep reading.”
I am writing this letter in hopes that you will find it after my death. I am sorry that I will not be able to tell you these things in person. I am also sorry to tell you that your curse is not something that a simple seer like myself can break. However, the mere fact that you have come all this way and made the sacrifices needed tells me that you have the power and determination to see it done.
If you wish to have another child, you should know that the sacrifices you have made thus far are small ones compared to what will come. Many of those closest to you, and to your husband, will die. The conditions are very specific . . .
As she read on, her expression filled with horror and she looked to John. “Does this have to be? I-I take it back. I can live with the curse.”
The Prophet’s kind eyes were sympathetic. “I am afraid that events have already been set in motion. Please don’t think that this is your fault, though. If you hadn’t come here it still would have happened eventually. But thanks to what happened today, the time is upon us.”
Feeling a deep sense of guilt, she returned to the letter.
Take heart. Though this new burden you have been given means you will face some of these trials alone, the man you have married and the tribe you have joined will be there to support you along the way. Don’t fear to depend on them. They are as crucial to this world’s survival as you are.
May you be blessed,
Rahan
One last thing. John, I know you will be reading this. Please don’t bother to bury my body. I promised the guardians they could eat me after I died. Don’t worry. I won’t be needing it anymore.
She frowned at the weight of the responsibility that was now on her shoulders.
“He’s right,” John assured her. “Though the burden may feel like something you have to bear alone, it’s not. You’ve surrounded yourself with good people. Use them.”
Jhonate nodded, then cocked her head. “How did you get up here?”
“Oh, I prefer the side route to the top. The front feels so much steeper,” he said.
She looked around. “Do you not have Gwyrtha with you?”
“Oh, she’s run down the mountain to join your husband. She has missed him, and you, very deeply and has decided that my time with her is over.” John rubbed his chin. “I suppose I should go back to the valley to choose another rogue horse. It is a pity. There are so few left.”
“Wait,” she said. “Edge is here?”
“Sir Edge and his bonded are currently fighting their way through guardians trying to reach you,” John replied.
Jhonate’s eyes widened in alarm. “He is fighting his way through those things? You are letting him?”
“Gwyrtha is having so much fun, and the guardians rarely get the chance to fight,” he said. “But I have just ordered them to stand down. Shall we g
o down and meet him? You should have Fist tend to that wound properly. My blessing magic only does so much.”
***
Gwyrtha plowed through a throng of misshapen enemies to get to Edge’s side, but there was no time for embraces or affection. The fight raged on. Gwyrtha ran around the perimeter of the party, slashing and biting the guardians and bringing relief to each group.
“Geertha!” Rufus took heart at her presence and attacked with renewed vigor, banishing the emotional weight of the guardian’s attacks.
Where did you come from? Edge asked her through the bond.
Me and John came to the top and I came down! she said happily as she whipped her head from side to side, shaking a snake-like monstrosity to pieces.
The Prophet is here? Edge said. Is he with Jhonate? Is she okay?
I don’t know, she replied. He told me you were here and I went.
Gradually, the fighting eased. The guardians seemed to lose their enthusiasm for the battle. Even their mental attacks faded into disappointment.
“Still hungry . . .” “Sad.” “There is nothing . . .” “Home . . .”
The crowd around them dissipated and soon they were alone on the mountainside. The party collapsed.
“Dag-gum,” said Lenny, dropping to the stair, sweat dripping from him. “Did we win?”
“The Prophet is here somewhere on the mountain above. I think he might be with Jhonate.”
“Oh, that’s the best news I’ve heard in weeks,” Lenny said before being bowled over by a half reptile monster.
Lenny! Missed you! Gwyrtha pinned the dwarf down and covered him in big lapping kisses with her wide tongue, leaving him wet and sputtering. She moved on to the rest of the group, avoiding the Bash Brothers, and assaulted them all, leaving them wet and knowing they were loved.
“This is not the part I missed,” Deathclaw hissed, wiping slobber from his face.
Sir Edge Page 33
