A Darkness at Sethanon (35 page)

I will
answer, Tomas.

The dragon
departed and Tomas turned to Pug. “Come, we should find an
interesting reception ahead.”

Pug looked at
his boyhood friend. “Even as a child, your view of the
interesting was somewhat broader than mine. Still, there is no
choice. Will we find Macros within?”

“Probably
not, for this is where we have been brought. I doubt the Enemy would
make it easy for us.”

They entered the
only door to the vast black building, and the moment they were both
beyond the portal, a vast stone door descended, blocking their
retreat. Tomas looked back with amusement. “So much for an easy
retreat.”

Pug measured the
stone. “I can deal with this if needs be, but it will take
time.”

Tomas nodded. “I
thought as much. Let us go on.”

They moved down
a long corridor, and Pug created a light, which glowed brightly in a
circle about them. The walls were without features, smooth and
unmarked, leading only in one direction. The floor seemed fashioned
of the same material.

The end of the
corridor produced a single door without markings or means to open.
Pug studied it and invoked a spell. With a grinding note of protest
the door rose upward, permitting them to pass. They entered a vast
hall, with doors in a circle. As they entered, those doors flew open
and a horde of creatures came tumbling out, snarling and screeching.
Apes with the heads of eagles, giant cats with turtle shells,
serpents with arms and legs, men with extra arms - an army of horrors
came pouring forth. Tomas drew his sword, raised his shield, and
shouted, “Make ready, Pug.”

Pug incanted and
a ring of crimson flames exploded upward about them, engulfing the
first rank of creatures, who exploded in searing hot silver flashes.
Many of the creatures held back, but those that could leap or fly
cleared the top of the flames, to meet destruction from Tomas’s
golden sword. As he struck them, they vanished in a shower of glowing
silver sparkles, accompanied by a stench of rotting decay. The press
of creatures continued, with more and more coming from the doors. As
they pressed forward, those before them were pushed into Pug’s
mystic flames and exploded in brilliance for an instant before
vanishing. Pug said, “There seems no end of them.”

Tomas nodded as
he cut down a giant rat with eagle’s wings. “Can you
close the portals?”

Pug worked
magic, and a loud wail of grinding metal and stone filled the chamber
as the doors to the hall were forced closed. Creatures seeking to
push through were crushed between door and wall, dying with loud
piteous cries, shrieks, and hootings. Tomas dispatched all the
monsters that had cleared the flames, and for a moment he and Pug
stood alone within the circle of fire.

Tomas panted
slightly. “This is irritating.”

Pug said, “I
can finish this.” The burning circle began to expand outward,
and each creature it touched died. Soon it pressed to the very walls
of the hall, and as the last creature died in an explosion and
shriek, the flames winked out of existence. Pug looked about. “Each
door holds dozens of those beasts behind. Which way do you think?”

Tomas said, “I
think down.”

Pug reached out
and Tomas slung his shield over his back. He took Pug’s hand
while still gripping his sword. Another incantation was mouthed, and
Tomas saw his friend becoming transparent. He looked down and saw he
could view the floor through his own body. Pug spoke and sounded
distant. “Do not release my hand until I say, or it will be
difficult to get you back.”

Then Tomas saw
the floor rise, or rather they were sinking. Darkness engulfed them
as they passed down into the rock. After a long time it was light
again as they entered another chamber. Something sped through the
air, and Tomas felt pain erupt in his side. He looked down and saw a
warrior standing below, a thing of powerful shoulders with a boar’s
head, wearing gaudy blue plate armour on back and chest. The creature
bellowed, spittle dripping from long tusks, as he swung a wicked
looking double-bladed axe at Tomas, who barely managed to turn it
with his own blade. Pug shouted, “Let go!”

Tomas released
Pug’s hand and instantly was solid again. He fell to the floor,
landing lightly before the man-boar as the creature brought his axe
crashing down. Tomas parried again, and retreated, seeking to free
his shield. Pug landed upon his feet and began incanting a spell. The
boar thing moved rapidly for something so large, and Tomas could only
just defend. Then the Valheru countered a blow with a parry and a
thrust and the thing was wounded. It backed away, bellowing in anger.

Pug sent forth a
slowly expanding rope of pulsing smoke, which moved like a snake. It
travelled only a few feet in the first several seconds, but began
picking up speed. Then, like a striking cobra, the smoke lashed out
and hit the boar thing in the legs. Instantly the smoke became solid,
encasing the creature in boots as heavy as rock. The thing bellowed
in rage as it tried to move. With no ability to retreat, the man-boar
was quickly dispatched by Tomas. Tomas cleaned off his blade. “Thank
you for the help. It was annoying me.”

Pug smiled,
seeing that his boyhood friend still hadn’t changed in some
ways. He knew Tomas would have dispatched the creature eventually,
but there was no point in wasting time.

Tomas winced as
he examined his side. “That axe had some unexpected mystic
power to strike while we were insubstantial.”

“Rare, but
not unheard of,” agreed Pug. Tomas closed his eyes and Pug saw
the wound begin to heal. First blood ceased flowing and then the skin
gathered itself together. A puckered red scar showed. That began to
fade, until unbroken skin was shown. Soon even the golden chain and
white tabard were mended. Pug was impressed.

He glanced
about, feeling discomforted. “This seems too easy. For all the
fury and noise, these traps are pitiful.”

Tomas patted his
side. “Not all that pitiful, but in general, I agree. I think
we are supposed to become overbold and fall prey to incaution.”

“Then let
us be wary.”

“Now,
where next?”

Pug looked
about. The chamber was carved from stone, without any apparent
purpose except to provide a meeting place for several tunnels. Where
they led was unknown. Pug sat upon a large rock. “I will send
out my sight.” He closed his eyes and another of the strange
whitish spheres appeared above his head, spinning rapidly. Then
suddenly it was off down one of the tunnels. In a few moments it was
back, then down another. After almost an hour Pug recalled the
device, and with a wave of his hand it vanished. He opened his eyes.
“The tunnels all lead back upon themselves and empty out here.”

“This is
an isolated place?”

Pug got to his
feet. “A labyrinth. A trap for us, no more. Again we must go
down.”

They gripped
hands and once more Pug allowed them to pass through the solid rock.
For what seemed a very long time they moved downward in darkness.
Then they were floating just below the roof of a vast cavern. Below
and some distance away, a huge lake was surrounded on all sides by a
ring of fire, which lit the cavern in a red-orange glow. Beyond the
fire, a boat rocked at the edge of the shore, a clear invitation. In
the centre of the lake they could see an island, upon the shores of
which a host of human-shaped beings waited, all in battle dress. They
surrounded a single tower, with but one door on the ground floor and
a single window at the top.

Pug lowered them
to the ground and made them solid again. Tomas looked at the burning
circle and said, “I expect we’re supposed to battle
through the fire, take the boat, and evade whatever lurks below the
water, then defeat all those warriors just to reach the tower.”

“That
looks like what we’re supposed to do,” said Pug, sounding
tired. He walked to the edge of the fire, and said, “But I
think not.” Pug waved his hand in a circular motion, then
repeated the gesture a second time. The air began to stir in the
cavern, following the circle described by Pug’s hand, moving
along the curve of the vast stone dome above their heads. At first it
was a simple gust, a breeze with some life, then quickly a zephyr.
Again Pug motioned. Rapidly the wind picked up tempo, and the flames
began to dance, illuminating the cavern in mad lights and flickering
shadows. Another gesture from Pug and the wind blew faster and
harsher until the fire was being blown backward. Tomas watched, able
to stand against the pressure of the air without difficulty. The
blaze began to sputter and lapse, as if it could not keep burning
before the press of wind. Pug made a larger, broader circular motion
with his arm, almost spinning himself about with the furious gesture.
The water foamed as whitecaps appeared upon the lake. Wind-whipped
water blew high into the air as “spindrift leaped in a capering
dance and the water ran up the shores of the island. Swelling waves
rolled, and soon the boat was overturned and sank below the surface,
the fire hissing into nothing as the surf swept over the banks. Pug
shouted a word, and a clear white light illuminated the cavern in
place of the red fire glow. Now Pug spun his arm about like a child
playing a game, imitating a gale-driven windmill. Within minutes the
warriors upon the island were staggering back under the force of the
wind, unable to keep their footing. One’s boot touched the
water and something green and leathery rose up and seized the
warrior’s leg. The screaming fighter was dragged below the
water. Again and again this scene was repeated as more and more of
the warriors were forced into the water, to be taken by the denizens
of the lake. Then, as the windstorm reached a crescendo of fury,
shrieking in their ears, Pug and Tomas saw the last figure upon the
island stagger backward into the water, to be seized by whatever lay
below the frothy surface of the lake. With a clap of his hands, Pug
halted the wind and said, “Come.”

Tomas used his
ability to fly them over the water’s surface to the door of the
tower. They pushed it open and entered.

Pug and Tomas
spent a full five minutes discussing what they were likely to
discover at the top of the tower. The stairway leading upward was
narrow enough so that it could be climbed only single file as it
wound along the inside wall of the tower. At last Pug said, “Well,
we are as ready as we are ever likely to be. There’s nothing to
do but go up.” He followed his friend as the white-and-gold
clad warrior mounted the steps. Near the top, Pug glanced down and
discovered it a fair fall to the stones below as Tomas reached the
trapdoor at the top. Tomas pushed open the door and vanished upward
through the opening. Pug followed. There was a single room atop the
tower, a simple setting of a bed, a chair, and a window. Sitting on
the chair was a man, wearing a brown robe cinched at the waist by a
whipcord belt. He sat reading a book, which he closed as Pug joined
Tomas. Slowly he smiled.

Pug said,
“Macros.”

Tomas said,
“We’ve come to take you back.”

The sorcerer
stood, weakly, as if injured or tired. He faltered as he stepped
toward the pair. He staggered. Pug moved forward to catch him, but
Tomas was faster. He got his arm about Macros’s waist.

Then the
sorcerer bellowed an alien sound, as if a roar were being heard
through a distant windstorm. His arm contracted, gripping Tomas in a
rib shattering hug as the trapdoor slammed shut. For a moment Tomas
threw back his head and screamed in agony, then Macros threw him with
stunning force against the wall. Pug froze an instant and began to
mouth an incantation, but the sorcerer was too quick in moving toward
him. The brown-clad figure reached out, picked up Pug with ease, and
threw him against the opposite wall. Pug hit with a bone-jarring
impact, his head striking stone, and fell hard to the floor. He
slumped down, obviously dazed.

Tomas was up,
his sword drawn when Macros spun. Then in an instant the sorcerer was
gone and a creature of nightmarish aspect stood poised for attack. In
outline only was it seen, seven feet high and easily twice Tomas’s
weight, with large feathered wings extending outward. As it moved, a
vague hint of horns upon the head and large upswept ears could be
seen. A featureless charcoal mask regarded the Valheru with ruby
glowing eyes. Fully cloaked in smoky darkness, it had only a
red-orange glow showing through the eyes and mouth, as if revealing
some inner fire. Otherwise it was a thing of ebon shadow, each detail
of face and form only a suggestion.

Tomas struck
outward with his sword, and the blade passed through the creature
without apparent harm. Tomas retreated as the creature advanced.

“Puny
thing,” came a whispering voice, a distant echo caught upon
mocking breezes. “Did you think that which opposes you did not
prepare fully for your destruction?”

Tomas crouched,
sword at the ready. Narrowed eyes under the golden helm regarded the
thing as he said, “What manner of creature are you?”

The whispering
voice said, “I, warrior? I am a child of the void, brother to
the wraith and spectre. I am a Master of the dread.” With
startling quickness, it reached out and seized Tomas’s shield,
crushing it with a single twist and ripping it away from him. Tomas
swung in answer, but it reached up and gripped his sword arm at the
wrist. Tomas howled in pain. “I am summoned here to end your
existence,” said the shadowy thing. Then with ease it yanked
and tore Tomas’s arm from his shoulder. With a shower of blood,
Tomas fell to the stones, screaming in agony.

The thing said,
“I am disappointed. I was warned you were to be feared. But you
are as nothing.”

Tomas’s
face was white and drenched in perspiration, his eyes wide with pain
and terror. “Who . . .” he gasped. “Who warned
you?”