Those Who Fear the Darkness (BloodRunes: Book 2) (31 page)

Eventually she drifted into an uneasy sleep,
but rest still eluded her. When they woke the next morning Katya
found it difficult to concentrate, her mind still contemplating the
dark thoughts.

“Bright side is, we probably won’t have to
drag anything today,” Gryffon said, a tad too cheerily for Katya’s
mood. She simply gave him a courtesy laugh and sighed as she
reached for her dagger once more.

Hacking through the vegetation was even
harder today than it had been yesterday. Katya found herself having
to force her arms to keep working, heaving the blade into the air
time after time.

She slashed again at a particularly tough
branch while wiping away a bead of sweat and then gasped as the
branch fell away, right at the same time that Gryffon made it
through his section.

The scene before them was breathtaking. A
massive cliff face spread across their view, with a delicate
waterfall that spanned its width falling gently over the edge. The
thin layer of falling water gave the rocks behind it a magical
look, and they could make out several cave entrances. As Katya took
in the beauty of it, she gasped again as her eyes brushed over the
bottom of the falls.

“Is that-” she began.

“Yes!” Gryffon interrupted triumphantly, “we
found it!”
Katya surveyed the rushing river flowing out from beneath the falls
and the slippery rocks on either side. “How are we going to get her
in there safely?”

Gryffon looked thoughtful. “Perhaps we should
build her a shelter to keep her safe while we explore a bit to find
the best route.”

They fashioned a hammock for her, deciding
that high in the trees would be the safest place to keep her out of
reach of any passing dangers and then carefully picked their way
over the slippery rocks. It took them several tries to find a
passable path, but eventually they made their way towards a ledge
in the center of the waterfall.

Behind the glittering curtain of falling
water was a magnificent archway, its surface covered by intricate
carvings of dragons and people alike. They paused a moment to
admire the beauty of it and Katya raised a hand to run over the
smooth stone.

“Who do you think made these?” she
whispered.

Gryffon shrugged. “There are legends of there
once being a city up here, but even that was so long ago…”

After a short corridor of cave, it widened
into a large cavern lit by streams of glowing liquid flowing down
its walls. In the middle stood a pool of water, raised from the
floor in a column of stone, and once again lit with surreal colored
light coming from beneath its surface.

They ventured forward slowly and peered into
the pool. It was as clear as glass and just as still and they could
see that at the bottom lay three polished stones of varying colors,
light pouring out of them like little suns. Katya stood in awe of
them for a moment, not only because of their beauty but also as a
result of the power emanating from them. She reached a hand out and
paused. “Should I?” she asked Gryffon.

“I don’t know,” he answered, “it seems like
only positive energy, but I’m becoming pretty wary of anything
myself.”

Katya nodded and resumed her motion, but
slowly. Her fingertips passed through the surface of the water,
sending little ripples outwards, but would not go farther. Her
fingers came up against an invisible hard layer which flashed
bright for a moment and Katya hastily withdrew her hand.

“Could these be the Kiani Stones Aileen told
us about?”

Gryffon took out the scale that Aileen had
given to him and dropped it into the pool. It paused a moment on
the unseen barrier, then slowly seeped through, falling gracefully
through the water like a feather. As it touched one of the stones,
both objects started glowing, spreading their light to the other
two stones.

She and Gryffon both took a step back as the
sound of grinding rock echoed in the cavern. Katya looked around in
panic, trying to find the source of the sound. She took two more
steps back as it became apparent. Three stone pedestals emerged
from the floor in front of the pool, scraping their way out of the
ground. They ground to a halt when they were about waist high, and
the noise stopped.

Katya and Gryffon looked at each other,
waiting for something else to happen, but when nothing did they
stepped cautiously forward once more. Katya looked at the first
pedestal while Gryffon examined the second. She had to blow off the
dust and held back a sneeze, but she felt Marak convulse slightly
on her arm and she smiled. There was writing on the side:

Those who are true of heart are welcome
here,

Honest, trustworthy, and loyal.

Choose the one that is sincere,

And you’ll be rewarded for your toil.

Katya glanced at Gryffon who looked as though
he was mouthing words from the pedestal he was examining. Water
droplets gleamed on his face like tiny rainbows in the glowing
luminescence. “What do you make of it?” she asked him.

“This one has a cryptic poem about being a
loving, forgiving, and peaceful person and being rewarded if you
show them that you are by choosing something correctly. Whoever
‘they’ are. How ‘bout yours?”

“Similar, only this one is about honesty.”
They moved in unison towards the third. Again, this one held a
short passage, this time about strength, courage, and
fortitude.

“They all have different groups of symbols
below the poem.” She reached out a hand to hover a finger over one
of the symbols without touching it. “It almost seems as though you
could indent these by pushing on them.”

“I wonder what happens if we indent the
correct symbol.” Gryffon mused.

“We’ll be rewarded.” Katya smiled at the look
he gave her.

They explored the rest of the cavern, but
found that other than the pool and pedestals it was empty, so they
carefully brought Layna inside. Despite the waterfall right outside
the entrance, the cave itself was dry and warm, and they concluded
that the slippery trek to make it in would keep any animals at
bay.

They laid her body gently in front of the
pool, covering her with blankets. As soon as their hands left her,
however, another bright light flashed and Layna started glowing all
over with the same colorful light as the stones.

Katya let out a yelp and quickly reached out
to her, but found that her fingers encountered the same hard layer
that they had within the pool. She cursed.

“What happened?”

Gryffon moved forward to try his own luck at
getting through the barrier, but both their efforts were cut short
as a wave of a powerful emotion swept over them that was so strong
as to be almost tangible.

Be at peace.
The calming sensation
seemed to convey to them.
She is safe.

“Who are you?” Gryffon spoke into the air at
nothing in particular.

The emotions seemed to concentrate their
origin on the stones within the pool, but more than that it was too
much of a mix to figure out. Apparently the answer could not be
expressed by emotion alone.

“Are you in the stones?” he asked.

A contented feeling as though he had guessed
correctly. Katya supposed that was a yes.

“Are you the ones who made the pedestals?”
she asked.

A confused mix.

“Are you the ones we have to show we are
worthy to?”

Yes.

“If we prove we are worthy can you help our
friend?”

A very happy yes.

“How do we prove we’re worthy?” she asked
rhetorically, understanding already that they would not be able to
answer through their current mode of communication.

Whatever ‘they’ were, they seemed to
understand this and they remained silent.

“If we choose the right symbol on each
pedestal will it show you?” Gryffon inquired.

The answered felt like the other yeses,
though somewhat held back. As if for the most part this was the
case, but there was something else to it.

“How do we know what to look for when we
don’t know what the symbols are?” Katya asked this rhetorically
again, but was surprised when the surface of the pool shimmered and
turned opaque. An image formed.

It showed a gruesome scene. A mob of people
surrounded a man who was fending off the attack with magic, but the
sheer number of people coming at him overwhelmed him.

Eventually, one of his attackers got close
enough with a weapon and the man swung the blade around in a
fateful arc, connecting with the other man’s neck and severing it
completely. The blade shone with an unearthly light and Katya could
almost hear it singing through the air.

The image swirled again, this time showing
only the blade, and closing in on it to highlight an inscription on
its hilt.

“Leoht,” Katya whispered out loud in awe. The
image faded away and the pool cleared, leaving only the three
stones as they were previously.

“What does that mean?” Gryffon asked her,
perplexed.

“Well, the word means ‘light’ in the ancient
language,” she told him, drawing on her nights of raiding Karl’s
library for information, “I’m assuming that what we just saw was
the Dark King being beheaded. There are legends of his darkness
being held back by the light, but I never realized that this was
meant literally before. That the sword named ‘Light’ cut off his
head. But if you’re asking what it means that we were just shown
that, your guess is as good as mine.”

Katya sighed and turned back towards the
pedestals. Her sigh was cut short, however, as the third pedestal
came into view. It was now glowing faintly around the edges and the
symbols were all brightly lit. She touched Gryffon’s arm and
gestured to the pedestal.

“Alright,” he said aloud as if talking his
way through the mystery, “So does that mean that the scene we just
saw somehow connects to the symbol that they’re looking for on this
pedestal?”

The emotion they felt was approval.

“I guess so,” Katya stated blandly.

CHAPTER 19

Jezebel gave Devon a withering look. “And
how, exactly, are we supposed to do that?” she asked him, not a
little perturbed. The fact that he had brought the subject up at
all still irritated her, and to make such a statement without fully
explaining was just infuriating.

“I don’t think that your talent could have
been completely wiped out,” he said hurriedly, as though sensing
the danger of her mood in the confined space of their ‘cell’. “I
believe that with proper practice and application, we can find a
way to mend it.”

Jezebel closed her eyes in irritation.
Granted her talent was something she dearly wished to have returned
to her, but she had imagined it would be more of a spell that would
suddenly
whoosh
it back into its rightful place, and not
involve a whole lot of effort on her part as Devon was now implying
it may. It was something that had come naturally to her before;
wouldn’t it be more befitting if it would do so again? “What,” she
asked him, her eyes still closed, “do you think I need to do to
accomplish this feat?”

“Well,” he began, “how did you used to reach
for the power?”

Jezebel gave him an exaggerated sigh and
rolled her eyes. “I don’t know. I just did it.”

“Try to remember back to when you first
started using it, was there something you visualized to help you
concentrate your efforts?”

Jezebel raised a hand to her temple and
rubbed.

“Like perhaps likening it to a river that you
are dipping power out of?” he offered. “I think that’s what the
priests usually suggest people do.”

“I suppose,” she relented, her mood softening
somewhat at his excitement over her agreement.

“So try doing that again, you just have to
retrain your talent to find the way to the power again.”

She sighed again and closed her eyes,
searching for the unseen ‘river’ of power. It felt vaguely
familiar, but when nothing happened after a moment she gave up and
opened her eyes to give Devon another annoyed look.

He surprised her by giving her a stern look
of his own. “Do you want to have your talent back?” he asked her
pointedly.

“Of course I do,” she snapped back and
promptly closed her eyes again, redoubling her effort in hopes that
she would find it this time and be able to zap him with it. After a
considerably longer moment this try she sighed yet again. “Still
nothing.”

“Maybe you need something even more
familiar,” he suggested, “perhaps the river comparison was too long
ago and you need something more fresh in your mind.”

She raised her eyebrows in question.

He went on, “like maybe a really intense
powerful experience that bonded the power to something physical,
like maybe the night that we -“

She was half-way through drawing her eyebrows
together in confusion when he suddenly leaned forward and kissed
her. She was about to push him off roughly in offense when suddenly
she felt a great rumbling of something. Something she had once been
immune to hearing as it had become so commonplace in the back of
her mind, but recently had been silent…something that she
desperately wanted to hear once more.

She reached for it, and in doing so drew
Devon farther into the kiss, reveling in the sweet taste of power
that it promised. The noise faded too quickly for her to follow,
but it left a faint memory and she clung to it and to Devon in
desperation.

They were panting and bleeding by the time
Jezebel allowed herself to let go of the tentative hold she had on
the memory, and she collapsed happily onto the bed.

“I do believe,” she said in between deep
breaths, “that you’re right. I can find my way again!”

Devon smiled at her and she ran her finger
along his strong jaw-line. “I know you can, my lady.”