The Shards (14 page)

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Authors: Gary Alan Wassner

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Horror, #Dark Fantasy, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Sword & Sorcery

BOOK: The Shards
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In a high pitched though tender voice, the creature spoke, “Come! Quickly!” It beckoned for them to follow it, and it reached out one incredibly thin and almost opalescent arm to Angeline and another to Tamara. The tips of its exceedingly long, knobby fingers ended in round suction cups, and Tamara felt one adhere to her skin upon contact. “You have nothing to fear,” it said in a sweet, convincing though very strange voice. “It is the others who should beware,” it continued, though this time the tone of voice was totally different than just a moment before, and frighteningly malevolent. The creature was as tall as they were, though much, much thinner. Its clothing fit it so close to its pale skin, with the exception of a colorless, filament-like flapping cape, that it could have been wearing nothing at all, and even so, it was almost amorphous to their eyes.

In a bit less light, it would be practically invisible
, Tamara thought in wonder.

As they shuffled their way to the opening in the wall, half bent over and half on their knees, Tamara remembered the scroll.

“I must go back for a moment!” she said, and she tried to pull her arm away from the visitor’s grasp.

In her anxiousness to regain the parchment, she relinquished her focus and the rock surface that still concealed them began quickly to dissolve into dust once again.

“Oh!” she gasped as she realized their hiding place had rapidly crumbled around them. Before she had a chance to attempt anything more, the strange creature pulled her sharply into the gaping hole.

She struggled against it but it was extraordinarily strong, and the suction was impossible to break. Headlong, both she and Angeline were hauled through the space. As soon as they stepped off of the spongy surface and onto the stone floor of this newly exposed tunnel, the chimera that had hidden them in the cavern disappeared completely. Margot spun toward them and caught Tamara’s eye with her own vicious gaze a scant moment before the sister vanished into the darkness beyond. Instantly, Margot charged after them, maddened by the realization that she had been fooled once again. But, before she could take even three steps, dozens of round, shiny shafts shot out from the holes in the cavern walls at an amazingly high speed, the ends of which were sharpened to fine points and glistened menacingly. They extended from one side of the chamber all the way to the other, and instantly thrust themselves neatly into the holes on the opposite sides.

“Jump!” Margot yelled when she saw what was happening. Deftly, she leapt and grabbed a root sticking out of the wall above her head, thus saving herself from being savagely impaled on the end of one of these deadly beams. Her troops were not as quick as she was, nor were they as agile or as lucky. At least ten of the ponderous ogres were skewered like pigs on spits by the thrusting rods. The remaining seven escaped this initial attack only to find themselves trapped beneath the bars upon all fours as if they were behind a prison gate. They were crouched down awkwardly under this impenetrable maze of obstacles, and to add to their predicament, the spongy surface cover beneath their heavy feet was giving way rapidly around them, rising over their thick ankles and coating their legs as their great weight drew them deeper and deeper into it. They growled and grunted loudly and thrashed around, banging frenziedly on the obstructions above them.

Margot was furious. She screamed at her men to break the bars, but they could barely budge them no matter how hard they tried. She hurled yellow fire at the rods, but it only served to ignite the soft, pulpy matter beneath them. Rapidly, the fire spread, and it sent a caustic, green smoke upward toward the angry woman perched precariously above it. The ogres screamed in fear and pain as the fire gained in intensity all around them. In the limited space within which they were trapped, they could barely reach to their own feet in order to snuff out the mounting flames. The sounds that Tamara and Angeline heard from within the safety of their newly found shelter were monstrous and gruesome.

Without another thought for her troops trapped below, Margot raised her free arm and began to ascend toward the surface above. Thwarted once again, she sought to abandon this failed gambit as quickly as she could, and well before the smoke engulfed her as well. The sounds of the ogres burning to death in their prison below did not bother her in the least. Her only concern was for her own escape and for the reaction this failure would engender in Colton, her unforgiving master. She had no grief for the dead and dying that she left behind in her haste to escape. She barely heard their ghastly cries as she rose out of the pit. Her thoughts were immediately consumed by an overwhelming dread at the prospect of facing the Dark Lord once more.

Tamara leaned close to Angeline’s ear and whispered, “I left the scroll in one of those holes that the posts came out of.”

“Oh my!” Angeline replied, coveringt her mouth with her hand. “Why did you do that? What are we to do now?”

“I thought it would be better if we were not captured with it in our possession. When this creature appeared, I had no time to retrieve it,” she replied.

“Maybe it will burn up in the fire,” Angeline said.

“Our instructions were to drop it in the well at the world’s end,” Tamara said.

“Do you think it will matter? It will be destroyed either way.”

“I thought that before when I placed it there. It seemed the better alternative than to have it make its way back to Colton if it was discovered on me. But now I do not feel quite the same about it,” Tamara replied.

The strange creature was leading them carefully down a dark passage. They were so relieved to have escaped Margot once again that they barely considered where they were going and who was leading them. He or she, they could not tell for certain, was not listening to their conversation and seemed to have little interest in anything other than getting to where it wanted to go.

“I must go back, Angeline,” she said. “I cannot leave without knowing what has happened to the map. It was my responsibility.”

“The place is in flames! Besides, the smoke itself would disable you before you even got there. I can smell it from here and my eyes are burning. Maybe you can go back later after the fires the out.”

Tamara considered her options.

“Do you think it is safe to follow him?” Angeline asked.

“He saved us for certain,” she replied. “Besides, I get a good feeling from him. Do you have a name?” Tamara said to their host. “Mine is Tamara, and this is Angeline,” she said, pointing to the other sister. “We did not mean to trespass,” she explained before it even had a chance to answer. “Where are you taking us?”

The creature turned its face toward Tamara, and its eyes were so deep in color and so lovely that a smile crossed her face unbidden.

“I am Etuah. I am taking you to our home,” it replied softly.

“Are there others of you down here?” Tamara asked.

“Many.”

“Do your people have a name?” she continued.

“We are the Drue.”

“Drue? I have not heard of you. You are quite different from us in appearance,” she said.

“As we expected.”

“You knew we were coming?” Tamara responded, surprised.

“The moment you entered the hills, we followed you. Your charge is a crucial one. Our assistance was necessary.”

Tamara and Angeline looked at each other in shock. The last thing that they expected to hear was that their fall into this horrid pit was anticipated by anyone. What if they had not survived the initial plunge? What if Margot had captured them before Etuah rescued them? So many things could have happened. Besides, Etuah knew why they were traveling in the first place. Who could possibly have given this creature that information?

“Are you friends of the trees?” Tamara asked boldly.

“Friends? Yes, in a manner of speaking we are friends. We maintain the hollows.”

“The hollows?” Angeline asked. “What are the hollows?”

“The spaces that they have abandoned after the shards have been removed.”

“Shards?” Tamara repeated. These words were unfamiliar to her, and she was becoming more and more confused by the moment. It also disturbed her that Etuah did not proclaim her allegiance to the Lalas when she had the opportunity. “You speak of things that I do not understand. But do you not revere the trees nonetheless?”

“Revere? Most certainly!” she replied as if the question itself need not even have been asked. “You have much to learn, sister. But first, we must reach our destination. We are almost there,” it said sweetly.

“May I ask you one more question?” Tamara reluctantly found the courage to say.

“Certainly.”

“I do not wish to offend you in any way. You have been so helpful to us. The First knows what would have happened to us had you not arrived when you did and had that chamber not been equipped as it was.” She hesitated again.

“I am a female, if that is what you were wondering,” she replied nonchalantly.

“How did you guess?” Tamara asked.

“Female intuition,” she said, and they all laughed heartily.

It felt like a tiel has passed since they had smiled, let alone laughed out loud, and this moment served to break the ice between them all. Etuah’s large mouth and thin lips opened nearly as wide as her entire face as she continued to chuckle, and her suction tipped fingers grasped the two sisters more tightly and tenderly than before. With her free hand, Tamara reached forward and squeezed Etuah’s incredibly thin arm in response.

“Thank you, Etuah,” she said earnestly as the Drue led them further into the depths of the mountain.

“It was my pleasure,” she replied. Etuah reached behind her and grasped the unusual cape that now hung limply at her back. She seemed to wring it in her hand as if she was squeezing liquid out of a rag. Something fell upon the ground at her coaxing and she lifted it up and handed it to Tamara. “I retrieved it before the conflagration,” Etuah said.

“The map!” Tamara and Angeline cried at once.

Chapter Fourteen

“Is there more you can tell us father, about this beast of legend?” Beolan asked his father, King Bristar.

Beolan, Bristar and Maringar sat around a beautiful table of polished Noban that had been gifted to them many tiels ago by his brother, King Treestar. Alongside of Bristar sat his wife, Queen Aliya, an elf whose beauty rivaled that of Queen Elsinestra herself, though it was quite different to gaze upon. Her hair was strawberry blonde, streaked with a silvery white, and it hung nearly to the ground behind her in a thick, woven braid. She was rather diminutive in stature, though she did not give the appearance that she was frail in any way. Her eyes, uncharacteristic for an elf, were green and they sparkled and shone against her whiter than white skin. Aliya’s gown was made of a pale white silk, woven with silver threads, and it draped her body loosely. It was cinched at her midsection by a solid braid of silver. Her waist was so small that it appeared as if a single one of her husband’s hands could have encircled it entirely.

Other than these four, the room was empty. After having spent the previous evening acquainting their guest with the marvels of Crispen late into the night and then relaxing as best they could, they each met the new dawn with a sober and dedicated demeanor, and they each arrived here as planned, exactly at the appointed hour. Beolan closed the door and set the seals at his father’s request after they had all entered. Bristar did not feel it was prudent to alarm the people of Crispen with rumors and tales about the beast yet. It would do no good for the citizens to lose sleep over something that they could do no more than anguish over at this point, so they talked until the moon was high in the evening sky and gave the citizens the impression that they were relaxed and confident.

“So much is changing all around us. Monsters of legend return to plague and torment us. The Lalas die and we cannot understand why. What is even more disconcerting is that they provide us with no explanation of their own,” the King began, finally able to express his true concerns behind these closed doors.

Bristar reached out and grasped his wife’s tiny palm in his own before continuing. He was sadder than usual, and his normally confident voice was slightly weaker and less robust in tone. Aliya noticed it immediately, and she looked at him with consternation marring her delicate features. No one else interrupted the King as he spoke. They waited patiently for the older man to complete his thoughts.

“The races have united,” Bristar said, and he tipped his head to Maringar who acknowledged the comment by saluting him with a hand upon his heart. “And, furthermore, my brothers and I have overcome the obstacles that kept us from recognizing our mutual interests for so long. Our kingdoms are now open to one another, and we welcome any and all advice and assistance. Colton has made many attempts to thwart us, and we must harbor no illusions that his setbacks of late will deter him from continuing his efforts to destroy us. But, for all that has occurred, for all that has been lost, much has also been gained. The heir is awake! And he has a twin whose impact upon the fabric of our lives has already been significant. We can assume that in time his influence will grow concurrent with his power. On the other hand, Premoran’s fate is as yet unknown. As the last of his kind, the last of the guardians, his loss, should that be the case, will be significant to us all.”

As Bristar recapped the events of the past year, his strength seemed to return somewhat. His eyes perked up, and they began to sparkle once again. He seemed to sit straighter and taller in his chair, and his voice regained the fullness and confidence that had characterized it in the past. But then, as he mentioned Premoran, a cloud passed over him once more. His eyes grew dark and his expression was pained.

“What is it, my husband?” Aliya asked.

“There is something I have not told you all,” Bristar said gravely. “Now that you have confirmed that the beast is within our midst, I cannot keep it to myself any longer.”

“Tell us, father,” Beolan urged.

“The Armadiel is most definitely alive. I dreaded the possibility, but now I am certain that it is true. If we do not destroy him quickly, he will bring Crispen to its knees within weeks,” he grimaced. “The monster must be stopped! We cannot allow him to grow and expand his power. None of you know the nature of this beast. He is like no other living thing. His strength lies in his ability to infiltrate the very essence of the objects around him. They become like him-rock, water even the air we breathe. He transforms the character of things and turns them into extensions of his own evil and destructive power.”

“How can you be certain that it is the snake of Recos who has been unleashed upon us?” Maringar asked.

Bristar rubbed his whiskers. “My son described the walls in the cave as if they were breathing, as if they were alive! That was when my suspicions were confirmed. I had misgivings before then certainly, but no hard evidence to support my concerns. I did not want to allow my fear of what might be to color my interpretation of what really was. There were other signs as well, but they were more subtle. I visited the hillock and listened to the earth numerous times of late, and I felt the pain of change everywhere. But until today, I was unwilling to commit to its cause,” he said admitted. “Now I regret not accepting the counsel of my suspicious mind. If indeed the rock of Silandre has succumbed so soon, we are in more imminent danger than even I suspected. And that is not the worst of it.”

“I am not sure, father, if the walls of the cave were shuddering because they were possessed or because they were resisting. It just seemed to me that they were active and alive.”

The King sat up straight. “Rock is of this world. Though it is dense and less mutable, and certainly not sentient, it is as actively involved in the fabric of our existence as are the streams and forests. Anything that participates in nature is susceptible. Some elements resist naturally while others resist consciously. But make no mistake about it, all things resist for as long as they can. The Armadiel is stronger than anyone could imagine, and his strength lies in his ability to find the one weak link in the chain of life and attack it relentlessly, until its essence becomes raw and pliable,” Bristar explained.

“Why has this monster been let loose upon us?” Aliya asked. “Other than to thwart the alliance and hinder our ability to assist our brethren in the quest, why Crispen?”

“The answer to your question is what I have been leading up to, my dearest,” Bristar replied. “Before we left my brother in Seramour, I met with Premoran briefly. He came to me in the woods of Lormarion. At first, I thought it was a dream. I have told no one of this until now,” he related. “He told me that deep within the core of Silandre a key had been placed thousands of tiels ago. He told me that we must retrieve it now for it is the only thing that will unlock the gates to the chamber that they must reach in the dead city, and that we must deliver it to the bearer of the map in Odelot. Without this key, another quest cannot be accomplished, he warned. He said that the consequences of that would be most dire.”

Bristar hung his head heavily, and Aliya put her arm around his broad back and hugged him tightly.

“I sent you into the mountain fearing the worst, and you confirmed it,” he said to Beolan. “I had intended to tell you this and have you go in search of the key. But, I waited too long, and now the Dark Lord has taken advantage of my negligence.”

“’Twas not your fault, husband,” Aliya consoled. “You have only just returned home. The beast you speak of did not arrive here yesterday.”

“Yes, I know. But nonetheless, I could have been quicker in responding to the wizard’s request. We should have gone for the key immediately. Now it is too late. The beast may already have it,” he said, and he hung his head as if he had been defeated in a great battle and the weight of the loss was bringing him to his knees.

“No, father. It is not too late! If the key we seek is in his possession, then we must kill the beast first, that is all!” Beolan countered. “And if it is not, then we will find it.”

“How does one fight such a monster?” Maringar asked. “Tell us and we will rid the hills of it!” He slammed his fist on the table.

“I do not know. I fear that there is no way. He is the nemesis of life itself,” Bristar said , shaking his head.

“Surely father, we can find a way. We cannot just give up!” Beolan rejoined.

“Husband!” Aliya snapped. “What has come over you? Do you think that you would have this key in your pocket right now had you jumped from your horse and ran to Silandre the moment you returned? No! The Monster was surely there before you even entered the gates of Crispen! I do not mean to criticize and compound the hurt that you are inflicting so aptly upon yourself. But, be reasonable!”

“I need you, father! We all need you now,” Beolan said. “Mother is right! What we must do is find a way to defeat this enemy so that we can do as Premoran instructed. The battle is not over. It has only just begun! We will find this key, and Maringar and I will carry it to Odelot ourselves. I promise you that!” he said as Maringar tossed his head in agreement.

Bristar looked at his son and smiled.

“Forgive me,” he said. “Forgive me, all of you. What a fool I am being, feeling sorry for myself at a time like this.”

Aliya sat up straight and put her delicate hands upon the table. “So, husband! Where do we begin?” she asked.

“We must search the archives,” Bristar said, as his color returned to his cheeks. “Perhaps we will find a clue amidst the old parchments. But we must do so quickly. We have no time to waste. He has already started upon his path of destruction and no doubt, Caeltin has done more for him than merely unleash him from his prison in the bowels of the earth.”

“With Maringar and his men to assist us, at least we will be able to penetrate the areas that would have been impossible for us to enter alone,” Beolan said gratefully.

“Aye, that is true,” Bristar agreed. “Without the Daggerfalls and their people, it would have been the Armadiel who did the seeking. We are fortunate that our friends have lent us their support,” Bristar acknowledged. “And Caeltin could not have anticipated this.”

Maringar accepted the compliments humbly, in keeping with his character. But he knew, as did the others, that the dwarves did not march for totally altruistic reasons. He blushed nevertheless, and his large nose and white cheeks turned red more easily than he would have expected himself.

“You need not have come here solely to assist us,” Aliya said, sensing his discomfort. “Your actions are honorable even if they have a dual purpose. We accept the fact that the peril to us is a peril to all. The world is no longer as separate and apart as it was.”

“Was it ever separate truly?” Maringar asked. “Or did we simply accept it as such? The trees held us together despite our reluctance to recognize our commonalities.”

“Well said, Maringar. And now we must assume those responsibilities ourselves,” Bristar said.

“Some of them, my dear,” Aliya replied. “The trees have not abandoned us entirely,” she reminded them.

“No, but they fight a war of their own now,” Beolan said. “They are embroiled in battles we cannot observe.”

“As was always the case, son,” the Queen replied.

“Then why has the balance seemed to change so?” he asked.

“I do not know,” she said solemnly. “Therefore the quest for the Gem has become paramount. The heir of legend, Davmiran, will find the answers for us all. If the light is withdrawn from this world, everything will die. Why the First would deprive us of our sustenance, I cannot begin to fathom.”

“If Caeltin seeks the Gem as well, perhaps the First is merely protecting it from the Dark Lord’s iniquitous grasp by shielding it,” Beolan speculated. “If it does not radiate it would be harder to locate.”

Bristar, Aliya and Maringar all looked at Beolan as if he had solved the riddle of the universe. It had never occurred to any of them that this privation could have been planned.

“What an interesting thought, my son,” Bristar said, bending his head in contemplation.

“Quite interesting!” the Queen agreed.

“At the least, it is a more hopeful way of assessing the situation,” Maringar said.

“It merely makes sense, that is all. Surely someone has speculated in this direction before me,” Beolan replied.

“Frankly, it never did occur to me that this could be a defensive measure,” Aliya said. “I have always assumed that the light was being withheld from the world against the will of the First.”

“The consequences are grave regardless of the reason” Beolan said. “Due to this deprivation, the trees are dying!”

“A sacrifice perhaps?” Bristar asked.

“That would be in keeping with what we have come to expect of the Lalas,” Aliya said.

“They must suffer the loss of the Gem’s radiance too,” Beolan suggested. “The First must be aware of these consequences though.”

“Is it the price that must be paid? Perhaps they suffer even more than we suspect,” Aliya added.

“Could it be that the Gem’s light sustains them as the sun sustains ordinary plant life?” Maringar proposed.

“And that without it, they cannot thrive?” Bristar continued on this train of thought.

“Emotionally or physically?” Beolan asked his father.

“Maybe both. The First’s role, as we have come to understand it, is to harbor and protect the Gem. The Gem is like the sun, but it nourishes the soul and the spirit. Caeltin knows this too, and he knows that if he can find the Gem of Eternity and destroy it, then life will cease altogether. We cannot survive with hearts as cold as stone. And the grass and trees and wildlife cannot survive if their spirits are stilled. The essence that defines them is nurtured and maintained by the Gem’s light. If the Gem ceases to shine, then dissolution will result,” Bristar explained.

“But, father, if the First in its wisdom is protecting the Gem by concealing it and therefore the Lalas die, will not the world be more vulnerable in the end anyway? And won’t Caeltin then be even stronger?” Beolan asked.

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