The Dragon Hunter and the Mage (19 page)

With a groan, Aric sat up, hands gripping his head.

“Look, the half-prince is up,” Tharius said.

“Finally…” Ashur complained.

Massaging his throbbing head, Aric inspected his surroundings. It was a poorly lit room made of dark stone and… glittering walls?

“Where are we?” Aric asked.

“That’s a very good question,” Dothea replied. She was kneeling next to one of the walls. “Wherever we are, it can’t be the desert. This place is covered in ice.”

“Seriously?”

It sure
felt
cold in there.

“Also,” Dothea continued, aiming at the glittering stone beneath the shiny layer of ice. “There’s Glowstone in there. My guess is that we’re in the Shamissai Mountains.”

“Not a chance,” Leth said. “We must have blacked out for a few hours at best. It would have taken them days, if not weeks, to get us to the Shamissai.”

That’s when Aric noticed Leth was balancing a broad-sword horizontally on his index finger.

“Where did you get that?” Aric asked.

“What, this?” Leth asked, indicating the sword. He threw it up, grabbed the handle, and swung it from side to side in a blur of twists and twirls until it disappeared into a sheath on his belt. “It’s mine.”

“Apparently,” Clea said, holding a bow, “the instructors left us here with some of our personal belongings.”

“Yeah,” Ashur said. “Obviously, you got some jewelry.” He tossed the Glowstone and Dragon scale armor onto Aric’s lap. The cuirass landed with a clinking sound.

“Still better than what the priest got,” Jullion said.

“I’m not a priest,” Athan retorted. “I told you. I never took my vows.”

“What did you get?” Aric asked.

Athan searched his pockets and produced a sphere made of red glass with a metal lid on top. He flipped the lid up and a pinky sized flame flicked into existence.

“My prayer flask.”

Jullion, Ashur, and Prion chuckled, but Athan ignored them.

“Are we just going to stand here doing nothing?” Dothea asked. “Everyone is up. Shouldn’t we try to get out of here?”

“I still don’t feel very well,” Aric said, standing up. Then he froze and placed a hand on his belly. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Don’t you dare to throw up in here,” Ashur warned. “It’ll stink up the place.”

“Will you stop that?” Trissa said, placing her hands on her waist. “It was that attitude that got us in here the first place.”

Ashur didn’t like that. He stepped towards her, crossing his arms.

“Are you saying this is my fault?”

Trissa snorted. “You don’t scare me, little boy.”

“Maybe that’s because you don’t know why I was sentenced to the Guild,” Ashur said, narrowing his eyes.

“No, I don’t,” Trissa replied, taking a step forward. “But I was sentenced for breaking a Paladin’s leg and cracking another one’s skull. So come and get it, little boy.”

“Easy!” Aric slid in between them and pushed Trissa away. “Teamwork, remember? That’s what Saruk was talking about before we blacked out. This is just another exercise. We need to work together to get out.”

“This is not just another exercise.” Nahir’s powerful voice came from across the room. “Leth is correct, we are still in the desert. Which means….” He paused as if he was afraid of his own words. “We are in the Frostbound.”

“What’s the Frostbound?” Aric asked

Leth made a dismissive hand-wave. “It’s a Cyrinian legend.” 

“It is no legend, Leth of Nahlwar,” Nahir said. “It is quite real, and we are inside of it. How else do you explain a frozen place in the middle of the Mahar?”

“Just because I can’t explain the ice,” Leth replied, “it doesn’t mean it comes from the realm of the dead.”

“The what?” Half of the group made that question in unison, and the other half didn’t look any less curious.

Leth exhaled loudly. “The Cyrinians believe there is a gate to the underworld buried beneath the Mahar. It’s supposed to be frozen because the frost seeps through the gate or something.” He waved dismissively.

“Ava’s mercy,” Clea muttered, hugging herself.

Athan lit his prayer flask and began mumbling something inaudible. Irenya, Orisius, and Lyra joined him.

“Why would instructor Saruk put us in a place like this?” Clea asked.

“Because, obviously, this is
not
the doorstep to the underworld,” Leth said.

Ergon, Trissa, and Irenya decided to join the collective prayer.

“Oh, come on!” Leth protested. “This is clearly a sacred place, sure, there’s Glowstone and all, but let’s be reasonable.”

“Maybe you’re the one being unreasonable,” Clea said.

Leth snorted, shaking his head.

“It doesn’t matter,” Aric said. “Leth is right about one thing. There’s no point in panicking. We need to calm down and figure a way out of here. Nahir, why do you think Saruk brought us here?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” the black Cyrinian replied. “If we’re ever going to kill a Dragon we’ll need weapons made from Glowstone. Look around you.”

Aric obeyed, and so did everyone else. Nahir was right. The place was full of it.

“No, no, no,” Irenya said, pointing at Ashur, Jullion, and Prion. “There’s no way I’ll be going with you three.”

“Don’t worry,” Orisius said, smiling at her with his liquid green eyes. “I’ve got your back.”

The girl nearly melted.

I wish I knew how to do that…
Aric thought, taking a quick glance at Clea.

“Ok,” Aric said, clapping his hands. “I, Clea, Leth, Nahir, and Athan will take the corridor on the right. Dothea, Tharius, Trissa, Ergon, and Lyra will take the one in the middle, an
d‒
”

“Me and Orisius are stuck with these three,” Irenya said, frowning.

“Exactly,” Aric smiled. “Good luck. We’ll meet back here.”

The three groups separated, and as Aric climbed the narrow stairs the confusion of echoes from the other groups’ chatter slowly faded until they became silent.

There were patches of ice covering the floor tiles like puddles, so Aric treaded carefully. At the top of the stairs, a wide corridor stretched towards a massive wooden door. Hundreds of tiny Glowstone shards dotted the walls like indigo stars in a clear night sky.

“It’s beautiful,” Clea said.

Leth pushed the door at the end of the corridor and the hinges wailed. On the other side was a round chamber with the statue of a warrior in the center. 

“Look at that,” Aric said, pointing at an inscription on the statue’s pedestal.

“Runes,” Nahir said.

“Yeah,” Aric agreed. “Like the ones on a Bloodhouse.”

“Why would someone build a statue of a warrior at the gates to the underworld?” Athan asked.

“I would answer that question,” Leth said, “but I have a feeling I already did.”

Aric moved to a door right across from the one they had come in through.

“We should keep going,” he said, opening the door.

There was another wide corridor on the other side of the door. As before, it was lit by a myriad of Glowstone shards incrusted into the walls.

“Wait!” Clea said, stopping. “We’re being stupid.”

Leth crossed his arms. “I agree, but there’s no need to be that hard on yourselves.”

“I’m serious,” Clea continued. “The walls are full of Glowstone. Why don’t we break the ice and pick the shards underneath it? There are enough crystals in this corridor alone to arm an entire battalion.”

The five of them paused, weighing the idea.

“It’s worth a try,” Nahir said, unsheathing a blade. It was as long as Aric’s arm, but in Nahir’s hand, it looked like a kitchen knife.

The Cyrinian stabbed the wall, but the transparent surface remained intact so he did it again, and again. The stabs didn’t create a single dent. With a grunt, Nahir swung the knife back, then hammered the wall so hard it would have split a man two.

BUUUUM!

It was as if a ceiling had just caved in, except the wall remained intact while Nahir was sent flying backwards across the hall. He cringed as he stood back up.

“Are you alright?” Clea asked.

The Cyrinian said yes with a nod while Leth and Aric inspected the unscathed layer of ice in utter disbelief.

“What just happened?” Aric asked.

No one answered. Instead, from somewhere within the bowels of that place, came a long, drawn out screech that felt like cold hands wrapping around their spines.

“Ava mother…” Clea said, stepping backwards.

Athan closed his eyes and began to pray.

Quicker than she could blink her eyes, Irenya jumped into Orisius’s arms. By the time she realized she had done so, the sound had already faded away.

“I’m sorry,” she said, letting Orisius go.

“That’s ok,” the green eyed boy replied. “Nothing to be sorry for.”

“Take it easy, little girl,” Prion told her. “That’s just the wind playing tricks with the tunnels.”

“I know that!” she snapped.

“Well,” Ashur said. “That is definitely the sun.” He was perched atop a stone, peering through a small hole in what looked like a very large, stone trap-door. He jumped down with a satisfied smile. “Let’s get this thing open and get the heck out of here.”

“What about the others?” Irenya asked.

“We’ll fetch them when this is open,” Ashur replied. “Come on, push.” He placed both hands on the door and waited for the others to join him. “One, two….”

They pushed until their faces became bright red.

“Fire take this…” Prion said, panting. “It won’t move a hair.”

They stopped to catch their breaths, then tried pushing again.

“It’s useless,” Orisius said, sweat breaking out on his forehead. “It won’t budge.” He sat on the ground, breathless. “I think we’re entombed in here.”

“Don’t say that,” Irenya pleaded.

“Sorry,” Orisius replied, lying on his back. “I didn’t mean it.”

“Yes you did,” Ashur said. “Those sadists buried us here to die!”

“Why would they do something like that?” Irenya asked.