When the creature roared again, he let go of Kelvhan. The guard threw himself over Ingrid, and they skidded into the far wall.
Dirt rattled from the ceiling as the giant body lurched and fell to his knees, convulsing until there was a loud popping noise. Then the beast lay still.
20
Jorg
As the clicking sound in the tunnel grew louder and faster, Jorg slowed his pace. He was in a hurry, but he didn’t intend to get caught in some trap before he fought. The ground was softer than before, but it didn’t feel muddy. It was spongier.
Whatever it was, it didn’t stick to his boots. What is this? The clicking sounds mixed with a low hissing. His questions about what he stood upon were long forgotten as the sounds grew louder.
“We have to stay together. Don’t let them separate or surround us,” Plintze warned.
“I still have this, but I don’t know how it works,” Bremen said as he held up the goblin breaker.
“Jab it, and wherever the silver tip hits, it’ll do the job,” Plintze said. Bremen sucked in a deep breath and adjusted his grip on the club.
“Just make sure you aim it at the right body,” Jorg said as a shudder rolled over his shoulders at the memory of the breaker’s power.
Bremen grunted. “I’ll take care of it.”
The bead under Jorg’s shirt heated and buzzed, creating desperation to move forward. Any moment now, he expected the goblins to charge around the corner while they discussed strategy.
“Let’s go,” Selby whispered. “I want to get this over with.”
“Bremen, you’ve got the breaker. You go first, next to me. Selby and Plintze, you stick close and guard our backs,” Jorg said.
They huddled together and moved forward as one, but Jorg stopped them. “Why is it quiet?” The tunnels were suddenly eerily mute—all hissing and clicking had silenced.
“Stand ready!” Plintze called out as golden eyes glowed in the darkness and shrill hissing returned with a vengeance to pierce the air like daggers.
As the four rushed around the corner, Jorg noticed movement on the walls. Skidding to a stop, he nearly caused Selby and Plintze to run him over. Bremen halted on his own, also aware of the situation.
All along the walls were creatures with segmented black bodies, eight legs, and on each side of their heads were long pinchers—ready to grab and pull in any prey. Several rows of sharp teeth jutted out of their triangular mouth as they made clicking noises. Even in the low light, their eyes glittered with the anticipation of their next meal hurrying into their lair.
“What are they?” Selby asked, the whites of her eyes radiating even in the low light.
“Myrmex,” Plintze answered. “They help the goblins.”
As the four studied the creatures, they formed a circle. They stood back to back, leaving no blindside as the creatures scuttled closer.
Jorg pulled the dagger he’d hidden in his boot and held it aloft. It was the one he’d given Ingrid and planned to return to her as soon as they found her. As he suspected, he saw Selby with a blade in her hands as well. Where she’d had it hidden, he didn’t know, but that didn’t matter. As long as she had something to defend herself, he believed she’d be all right. Bremen had the goblin breaker, and Plintze had wrangled his staff back before he’d escaped with Lynheid.
Careful to keep his back rested against Selby and Plintze, Jorg slashed his dagger crossed the abdomen of the first myrmex that charged at him. Blood splashed against his skin, burning, but not enough to stop him.
“Ow! This stuff burns!” Selby cried.
“It won’t last. Just don’t let them catch you with those teeth,” Plintze hollered back.
Every time Bremen used the goblin breaker, the energies simmered through the air. At first, it made Jorg flinch each time he felt it, but the speed at which the creatures attacked soon had him too occupied to notice.
With small steps, the group moved forward, leaving a trail of dead bodies behind them. For a moment, it looked as though they’d made progress. The attacks came slower, and the creatures had backed away with an occasional single myrmex that sprung forward. They no longer seemed intent on destroying the group.
“I think we’ve got them scared,” Jorg said.
“No, they’re just reeling us in,” Plintze answered.
“That’s not what we need to hear, Plintze,” Bremen called over his shoulder.
As they moved forward, the tunnel gradually grew wider. When they reached the widest point, they moved to stand shoulder to shoulder. The myrmex had retreated enough for them to view the next repulsive creatures that waited to strike. Across the cavern stood a mass of figures. Jorg could only guess they were the goblins.
Some held torches, some pickaxes, and some held nothing at all. Sharp, jagged teeth flashed as they hissed. They didn’t need weapons.
Hunch-backed, they had slick ash-colored skin covered with splotches of soot. Long, thin pointed ears jutted back along the sides of rounded bald heads. Round eyes, too huge for their face, were solid black. The absence not only of color but of soul.
The goblins were demented, angry beasts. Deprived of sunlight and the simplest necessities, they had no ability to communicate. They existed to survive; live or die, nothing more. To get through the goblins and find the tunnel that would take them to Alfheim, they’d have to kill every single one.
“What do you suggest Plintze?” Jorg asked.
“Too late to turn back now. Alfheim’s just on the other side of these monsters.”
“What’s better? Charge or wait?” Bremen asked
Jorg snorted. “I’m not waiting for anyone.”
Selby flashed him a grin, and without another word, the two rushed forward with Plintze and Bremen half a step behind. Their motion triggered the goblins to charge, and the two groups clashed in the middle.
There wasn’t any time to help each other. There were too many of them. Two, three, or four goblins at a time slammed against each of them. It was all Jorg could do to keep his feet under him. He slashed his dagger across the throat of one goblin, then jammed it into the spine of another. One landed on his shoulder, raking him with its sharp teeth before he twisted its neck and threw it against the cave wall.
There were so many. There has to be a weakness we can find. We’re too close to lose now.
Goblin after goblin assaulted them. Most dropped their weapons before they charged, preferring to fight with their teeth and claws. Jorg could feel blood oozing from several wounds he’d gained, but he pushed on.
“Let me get to the front,” Bremen called. “This weapon is working.”
Plintze dodged to his right, and Jorg felt Bremen against his arm as he moved into place next to him.
“I’ll swing this around—stay back!” Bremen yelled.
The growls and shrieks of both man and beast echoed against the cave walls, but Jorg’s ears heard Selby growl a little extra at Bremen’s implication that he could handle all the goblins himself.
Jorg hesitated, knowing he was faster. Perhaps he should insist on using the weapon himself? There wasn’t any time to debate the issue—he had to trust Bremen.
Within moments, Jorg’s concern eased. He’d given his brother the benefit of the doubt and relied on him. It paid off. Bremen swung in wide arcs, causing every goblin he struck to fall to the ground in convulsions.
Selby, Jorg, and Plintze handled the stragglers that avoided the weapon. The occasional myrmex would charge in, and they would dispatch that, too, and as the goblins lost ground, the myrmex retreated farther into the darkness.
Jorg’s arms tired and his legs shook from staying crouched in a fighting position. He was sure the fight drained the others as well, but no one slowed down.
“There it is. I can see the tunnel. Only a little further!” Plintze called out.
Bremen glanced toward the opening. In that split second, two goblins ducked under the weapon and slammed Bremen to the ground. The club fell from his fingers,
and Selby screamed. She surged forward to hold off the goblins, trying to take advantage of the misstep. She kicked the goblin breaker into an oncoming group who squealed and stopped advancing.
Jorg slammed his dagger into the neck of a goblin on top of Bremen, and Plintze used his staff to fling the other off. Grabbing Bremen by the arms, Jorg pulled him to his feet. A large wound bled from his shoulder, and his tunic was wet with blood on his side.
There was no more time; they had to get out of the tunnels. Selby couldn’t risk reaching for the weapon, but they were close enough to the opening that they could make it out if they hurried.
“I’ll be fine,” Bremen said, standing on his own. “Let’s get out of here.”
Jorg realizing he was so close to Ingrid urged himself forward. Mustering more energy from deep within, he slashed at lightning speed as the others ran for the entrance.
Bremen pushed Selby ahead of him while Plintze took up the lead as they ran down the tunnel. The air grew heavier, and pressure built around them. They kept pushing as it grew even thicker, leaning forward as if into a strong wind.
Plintze halted. “Ach! I can’t move.”
“What is this? Why can’t we move?” Sticking closest to Plintze as they ran, Selby appeared trapped as well. It was as if there was pressure locked around them, binding them in place.
“Try to move backward.” Plintze knocked against Selby as he slid his feet away from the opening.
They managed their way to where Bremen and Jorg waited. So far, no goblins had followed them into the passage.
Jorg felt like his lungs were on fire and being squeezed in a vice. Now wedged in the tunnels behind some invisible barrier, he struggled to think straight. “Do you think it’s a ward Plintze?” he asked.
“It is. We have to figure out a way through it.” Plintze stepped up and ran his hand into the air. It didn’t seem like he touched anything, but sometimes he could push farther ahead while other times his hand would bounce backward.
“I think there might be a way we can tear through it,” Plintze said. He brought his staff up and tried to pierce the veil, but that didn’t work. He lowered it and stared at the barrier once more.
“Plintze we have little time,” Bremen called out.
Movement sounded from the tunnels behind them. Jorg could hear the scratching—apparently, Bremen could as well. If he could hear it, that meant whatever made the noise was close enough human ears could pick it up.
Plintze growled and shoved his hand forward as hard as he could. Ripping with his fingernails, he pierced a small hole. A whistling sound erupted through the air, and the relief from the pressure made Jorg’s ears pop. Selby grabbed the sides of her head.
“Can you rip more of it, Plintze? It’s working!” Jorg yelled.
“Aye, but it’s so tough.”
Selby tried to help, but as soon as she touched the barrier, her hand bounced back, and she screamed. “It’s like it stabbed me. I don’t think we can help,” she said, holding her fist to her chest.
“Let me try.” Jorg squished by Selby in the tight quarters of the tunnel. Dropping to a knee next to Plintze, they both dug into the barrier. There were no painful effects for Jorg like there had been for Selby, so they both clawed as hard as they could. With the extra effort, it was working.
Soon, the wind blew their hair as the hole grew wider. Jorg thought he heard clicking behind them. He didn’t know if his imagination toyed with him or if the myrmex had crawled into the passage. He couldn’t hear the goblins, but they were quieter.
That was—until they hissed.
Finally, Plintze pushed through and fell onto the other side. Jorg shouldered into the gap and wiggled across, hopping on one foot as he freed his second foot.
“Come on.” Jorg motioned Selby forward as she stared at him, terrified.
The wind settled once they crossed through, and there weren’t any clicking sounds. In fact, he couldn’t hear anything from the other side. He should hear something. The hole they’d made was big enough for him to crawl through. It was certainly big enough for Selby.
Something was wrong. Selby spoke, but Jorg couldn’t hear her. A tear slipped down her cheek as she stared at him. If it had been anyone else, he might have thought something was wrong with her voice or his ears.
Jorg reached out to push his hand through the tear, only to find a smooth surface under his palm.
“Plintze, the barrier—it’s solid again! Help me.”
The dwarf had run ahead and waited farther up the tunnel. They would have to work together, and fast, to get the others free.
Jorg twisted enough to let Plintze claw another opening. As soon as he had worked a finger-sized gap in the invisible covering, the air whooshed Selby’s cries into the tunnel. Jorg scurried to help. As soon as he could reach through, he latched onto Selby. Her arm slipped through, but neither of them could coerce her body to follow.
With a kernel of an idea, Jorg pushed Selby’s arm back to the other side. He shouldered his way through the barrier once again. Only this time, he stopped halfway, shoving his back against the opening. With one foot on either side, Jorg pushed his arms straight across and held open the barrier. The clicking was louder than before, and he heard the hiss of several goblins. Bremen was three paces away, swinging Selby’s dagger, to allow her time to slip through the opening.
There was no more room that Jorg could offer, and Selby had to hold on to Jorg in a tight hug as she maneuvered across the barrier and then hurried out of the way for Bremen.
“Hurry, Bremen. I can’t keep it open much longer.” Jorg had to scream over the noise of the beasts gaining ground on his brother.
Without turning around, Bremen backed his way until he was leaning against Jorg’s leg.
“Crawl across, under my arms!” Jorg yelled out, even though they stood so close they were touching. The myrmex and the goblins saw they were about to lose their prey and increased their efforts to grab Bremen.
When one foot was through the opening, Jorg wrapped his arm around his brother’s waist and dove for the Alfheim side of the border. Both men fell to the ground and rolled. The hissing and clicking went silent.
“Let’s not wait and see if they can claw their own way through,” Bremen said with a look of relief and gratitude toward Jorg.
Jorg nodded, and as they turned to run up the tunnel behind Plintze and Selby, Bremen squeezed Jorg’s shoulder. Although they were running for their lives, warmth bloomed through Jorg’s chest.
Light filtered into the tunnel, and the group pushed their legs harder. Plintze led the way at a pace the others struggled to match. They rounded a corner, and a silvery light glowed twenty paces ahead. A surge of relief flooded through Jorg as he watched Plintze dive through the opening without trouble.
One by one, they landed on a soft mound of green grasses and breathed in the fresh air.
21
Ingrid
Elves have excellent hearing, so it didn’t take long for the dungeon to fill with soldiers. Kelvhan jumped into action and explained the situation. Though Quarn would no longer speak, he sat in his cell with his arms around his bent knees and stared into space. Kelvhan launched an investigation into the claims Quarn had made, ordering extra guards to watch over him. He issued goblin-breakers to each.
After Caelya finally escorted Ingrid back to her rooms, she hurried through a cursory wash before she crawled into bed, too exhausted for anything more. Aguane hadn’t come to her rooms, which she realized she’d been looking forward to.
I wonder where she is?
Ingrid lay staring at the brocade fabric gathered above the canopied bed. Sleep eluded her no matter how hard she tried. Images of Beril snarling with his dragon features and mindless brutality haunted her each time she closed her eyes. Then she remembered the book she’d hidden earlier. Some reading might help change her thoughts.
Covered in thick leather, the tome weighed heavy in her hands as she retrieved it from under the m
attress. There wasn’t much light in the room, and she dragged one of the cushioned chairs to the balcony. She’d read by moonlight, which was abundant that night.
Once settled, she read the cover, and her eyes widened. She stared, unable to move. It was the book she’d nearly chosen from the shelf before dinner. Caelya had noticed, but she couldn’t have been the one to bring it into Ingrid’s room. They’d been together throughout dinner.
It had to have been Aguane. How she knew about it was a mystery though. Ingrid swallowed hard and forced her fingers to open the cover. Despite the circumstances that brought her the book, something urged her to read it. Perhaps it would take her mind off Urkon, Jarrick, and all the pain they caused. Perhaps.
Ingrid handled the pages with care, admiring the illuminations but only skimming the words. Then her skin went cold as a full-page image of a hooded man appeared. He stood in a dark tunnel, a crow on his shoulder and swirling mists all around his feet. It was Odin. Ingrid was positive, but that wasn’t what stopped her. It was the words below the picture.
Odin travels the Grimnir Passage between realms.
The hair on Ingrid’s arms stood on end. Her stomach rolled as if it were a stormy sea. There was a path accessible to all the realms without a portal? Was it only accessible to Odin? She turned back a page and read. Shaky fingers followed the words to keep her from missing a single one.
It spoke of Odin using the tunnel to pass unseen between each realm. It was how he could travel in disguise to check on the loyalty of his followers, test the hearts of warriors, and even study new forms of knowledge without hindrance. There wasn’t any information about how the passage worked. It was dangerous—that was clear—but nothing told where it was or if anyone else could use it.
Ingrid turned another page and continued to read. She stopped, frozen, her fingers too heavy to lift from the page. At the center of the Grimnir Passage was the Yggdrasil tree. Not only did the tunnels lead between the realms, but they also led to the center of them all.
Realm of Fate Page 12
