The Corin Chronicles Volume I: The Light and the Dark (42 page)

The pace at which the men moved had now increased considerably, and they noticed that the burning eyes of the Kalkarats were staying open for longer periods of time. Then they heard a sound they had not previously heard during the entire climb: the loud scream of one of the birds.

The scream had come from a distance, near the bottom of the lair, Ramon thought. He signaled Topenga to continue climbing. Sparing a glance at Mikael, he saw the fear in his eyes and noticed his climbing had become more uncoordinated. “Stay strong for me, Mikael,” he whispered. “We are almost there.”

Mikael nodded and returned his focus to climbing.

The birds seemed to become more and more restless. Ramon glanced down into the dark at the sound of another scream, then looked back up, only to find himself staring directly into the burning eye of a Kalkarat.

“Stop,” he whispered to the others. “One is directly in front of me. Let us wait until it closes its eye again.”

Topenga and Mikael did not move an inch, instead focusing on Ramon, who now had his back completely against the platform behind him, looking into the eye of the demon bird. He had noticed before that none of the birds so far had opened both eyes, and did so only for a brief moment, which he took to mean that they were still asleep. Worry crept into his mind, however, as time continued to pass, and the Kalkarat in front of him never closed its eye.

Cautiously, he shifted his gaze to nearby birds and noticed that several of them had eyes wide open, as if staring directly at him. His legs started to shake, and his grip on the thick vine weakened. But he continued to do his utmost to remain still.

Topenga slowly attempted to edge down toward the prince, but a signal from Ramon halted him. Quietly, Ramon reached for the hilt of his sword, trying to be ready for any possibility. The grimace on his face eased, however, when he noticed the burning eye before him slowly closing.

Releasing the grip on his sword hilt, he signaled Topenga to continue climbing, but before his eyes completely shifted from that of the Kalkarat, he saw the burning flame of the second eye, wide open and looking straight at him.

With both eyes burning brightly in his direction, he flinched at the ferocity of the fire within them. Looking at the rest of the birds, he noticed that the movement of the one in front of him was different. The Kalkarat started to flap its wings viciously, removing its sharp claws from the solid rock it had clung to.

The extensive noise of the flapping wings immediately put the other two warriors on their guard, and they had their weapons drawn within seconds. Once again, however, Ramon signaled for them to stay where they were with his raised left hand. Ramon continued to stare straight into the eyes of the beast, showing no fear.

The Kalkarat’s mouth opened wide, and the lair suddenly erupted with a scream so loud that all three men had to shield their ears with their hands. Topenga nearly dropped his sword, and Ramon was blown backward by the gale-force breath of the beast, almost losing his balance.

The noise from the beast continued for a short while, causing more screams both above and below. Ramon drew his sword and thrust it straight into the open mouth of the beast directly ahead of him. It released its grip on the stone wall and fell crashing down the lair to its death.

“Move!” Ramon ordered in a whisper. With his sword still in his hands, the prince resumed climbing the vine, breathing heavily, with his hair covering most of his face. Looking above, he saw that Topenga had gained some distance between him and Mikael, prompting them both to increase their paces. It seemed that the birds were waking at the same time, all around them. As with the one he had killed, Ramon noticed that they typically started to use their wings to hold themselves up while screaming at the top of their voices.

Choosing to ignore them, the prince and his comrades continued to focus on reaching the exit. Their determination had nearly paid off when a grunt from Mikael stopped Ramon where he hung. Looking back, he saw his friend had suddenly stopped climbing.

“Mikael, what is wrong?” he asked.

Mikael put his little finger over his mouth and signaled for Ramon to keep quiet.

Confused, the prince once again signaled Topenga to stop. Then he lowered himself toward Mikael. He was almost there when he noticed movement underneath his comrade, followed by the emergence of a Kalkarat’s face. Both the bird’s eyes remained opened, burning with intensity. Saliva dripped from its mouth, and both its claws were wrapped around his friend’s legs. Observing the same thing, Topenga made his way down the vine toward the prince, trying to be as stealthy as he could.

Within close proximity to Mikael, Ramon drew his sword and, with his legs grasping the vine, outstretched his hands to Mikael.

“Take my hands, Mikael,” he said.

“I will not allow it to take you too, my lord,” Mikael replied.

“I am not leaving this place without you, Mikael, so you must.”

Trembling, Mikael carefully reached out for Ramon’s hands. The Kalkarat started to emit the same loud scream, which was quickly echoed by a number of birds throughout the lair. As before, however, no other birds left their positions. The scream from the Kalkarat grew louder, and its grip on Mikael tightened.

“Now, Mikael,” shouted Ramon. “You must do it now.”

Without hesitating further, Mikael grabbed the hands of Ramon, who immediately pulled him up with every last ounce of energy he had. The Kalkarat screamed and pulled hard. Mikael almost lost the hold he had on Ramon. Standing firm, the prince felt one of his legs come loose from the vine. The strength of the Kalkarat was too great to maintain his balance with only one leg.

Sensing the despair of his friends, Topenga rushed down the vine, sliding and climbing simultaneously. He quickly hooked his ankles around the vine and swept both arms around Ramon’s legs, while using his own legs to support all three of them. But the Kalkarat was unwilling to release its grip on Mikael, and it continued to pull them all down the vine.

“My lord,” shouted Topenga. “Give me your sword.”

Ramon stretched his head backward, unable to see Topenga clearly.

“I need it now,” shouted Topenga. “You must trust me, my lord.”

With all his strength, Ramon thrust his sword in the air, desperately hoping that it would find its way to the Colonoy. The sound of activity seemed to hint that Topenga had managed to catch his sword. Still struggling for an angle to see the Colonoy, the prince managed to see Topenga thrust his sword deep into the vine, just next to his own knees.

“Hold on to this,” Topenga said.

Ramon locked one knee on to the sword hilt, and tucked his foot under his other knee.

Upon releasing his hold of the prince, Topenga saw that the sword remained solidly planted in the vine. It would hold Ramon and Mikael for the moment. Breathing deeply, he leaned forward and looked intently at the darkness beneath him.

“What are you doing, Topenga?” Ramon whispered.

Topenga held his own sword firmly, released his leg grip on the vine, and allowed himself to fall. As he sailed past Ramon, their eyes met momentarily, and then Ramon could see him no more.

With his sword held out in front of him, Topenga continued to fall past a number of Kalkarats, each one stirring almost to full wakefulness. He caught himself on the vine, then began climbing as fast as he could toward the Kalkarat holding onto Mikael.

Seeing the approaching warrior, the Kalkarat released its left grip on Mikael and swiped at Topenga, but the Colonoy had already leapt onto the bird’s head. Screaming and swaying from side to side, it desperately tried to dislodge the Colonoy, but Topenga continued to hold on, using the vine for support.

Realizing that the Kalkarat had released its grip on his comrade, Topenga repeatedly stabbed the creature across its entire body, bringing more screams and wails from the beast. Gradually, his efforts weakened the bird, and it began to fall, its wings useless, pulling Topenga down with it.

Ramon shouted Topenga’s name. With Mikael now safely secured against the vine, Ramon began climbing downward. He could see the Kalkarat falling to its death, motionless. But the large arms of Topenga, climbing up in his direction, brought out a massive shout, which was echoed by Mikael, who now had his hands high in the air. With all three men reunited, they sensed that nearly all of the Kalkarats were now awake, emitting the same loud noises but remaining in the same positions.

“Why are they not attacking us, my lord?” asked Mikael, panting for breath. He now led the way up to the exit.

“Let us not wait here to find out,” replied Ramon, close on his heels. “Climb! Faster!”

The three men continued to climb the vine as quickly as they could, and before long they were climbing out of the cavern, with the lair of the demon birds behind them. Before them stood the legendary village of the hilltops—Sompua.

5.10

T
HE
V
ILLAGE
H
ORDE

T
he darkness seemed to vanish temporarily, as the three young men looked out at one of the most famous cities in their planet’s illustrious history: Sompua, the Village of the Righteous. They had heard the name many times, but this village in the hilltops had always seemed more a myth than any of the other tales they had heard.

From where they stood, Prince Ramon could make out what he could only assume was once the welcoming hut of the village. It had no roof, but the basic structure remained intact. Looking beyond the first hut, he saw a path that ran deeper into the village, where a number of ancient huts resided.

“How is it possible,” asked Mikael in amazement, “that some of these buildings still maintain their sturdiness after all these years?”

“It is said that the intelligence of the people banished here did not diminish immediately,” Ramon said. “Some legends state that the corruption of their race lasted for thousands of years, as they slowly adapted to a life of darkness. Perhaps they have fought off the sickness Auphora cast upon them enough to preserve what they could.”

“Perhaps,” said Topenga doubtfully. He had been busy looking at the trees that stood throughout the village, all oozing death and despair, with no remnant of leaves and brittle-looking branches. A ghastly black liquid dripped from a number of them. The sight caused his stomach to turn.

“Are we really going to enter this place?” asked Topenga, still wiping some sweat from his face. “There is nothing here but death.”

Ramon did not answer. Instead, he began approaching the village cautiously. Sensing that the only option was to follow, Topenga and Mikael started to relight their torches, but Prince Ramon halted them with a raised right arm.

“No,” he said. “We will use the glow of the red moon to guide us. It shines brightly in Sompua.”

Nodding slowly, the other warriors returned the branches to their bags. Then all three advanced, with hands on their sword hilts.

The entire village was deathly quiet. Not even the increasing winds seemed to make a sound. The mass of withered trees remained unflustered, and even in the darkness Ramon could make out a black fog beginning to settle just outside the village. Several times he halted his steps and looked back at his comrades, almost unsure of what to do next.

“Is anything the matter, my lord?” asked Topenga. He slowed down also, sensing the worry across the face of his prince.

Ramon stopped walking. “I fear that we may push the gods too far by entering this village.”

“My lord?” Topenga seemed puzzled.

Ramon continued to concentrate on the mysterious black fog. “The Kronos were one thing. The demon birds another. But those were mere creatures. What if we are forced to shed blood in Sompua, which at one time followed Baran? Perhaps they are still. Could we not anger Baran and our gods by even being here?”

“What are you suggesting, my lord? That we turn back?”

The prince opened his mouth to answer, just as a sight at the edge of the village caught his attention. Without much time to react, he dragged both Topenga and Mikael down to the ground, much to their surprise. Lying as flat as he could, Ramon fixed his eyes on a creature limping on two spindly legs toward the village, probably from the nearby forest, he thought.

It resembled a man, almost six feet in height, but its skin was bright yellow, and the rags that hung from its body were dirty and covered in thick, black dust. Topenga and Mikael had their mouths open, as they watched it digging its hands into the ground before thrusting a bone into its mouth. Chewing violently, the creature howled and slammed its other hand on the ground.

With a look of confusion and shock, the prince sank deeper and deeper into the ground to avoid being seen. In that instant, however, a loud sound came from behind him, as if a stone had crashed against glass. Sharply, he turned around but saw nothing. Maintaining his gaze for a short while, he turned back around to face the creature, unsure of what had made the noise he heard. But as his eyes turned in its direction, he caught a glimpse of his friends, whose mouths were open even wider.