The Crystal Legacy (Book 2) (15 page)

“Yeah, so do you think there’re still things lying around dead that might be good to eat?” Magnosious drooled, and a glob of spittle ran down the roof tiles, burning off moss and any organic matter.

Earwig jerked back inside the tower narrowly avoiding more spittle. “Careful, you fool. I’ve told you before to watch your mouth.”

“Sorry,” Magnosious said. He licked his lips, cleaning himself up. “Please continue.”

“We bought the Earwighof, and I immediately began converting this dark tower close to your hill and The Crypt beyond. Powerful as I am, even
I
fear going to The Crypt. I’ve expended too much of my own soul though, and in my weakness, I couldn’t conjure a bat. I must go to The Crypt and bask in the invigoration of countless cold dead souls. It’s my only chance to recharge my strength.”

*

When the full moon rose that night, Earwig again summoned Magnosious. She mounted the beast beyond the courtyard as his smoldering snorts showered the dilapidated garden with fiery sparks.

“To The Crypt, with all speed,” Earwig commanded. “To the east.”

With a splutter of flame, the dragon leapt into the air. Magnosious soared, circled the Earwighof, and turned east into the hills. He settled down on the crater’s rim, and Earwig climbed down his scaly leg. The great dragon puffed fire, charring a terror-stunned deer that waited too long to flee. He snapped up the smoldering victim, crunching the bones as he waited for Earwig to return.

The witch crept along the ridge until she came to a crumbling slope down to The Crypt’s core bone pile she could negotiate. She crawled down through skeletons. Her hands and boots stuck to decaying sinews, but she descended to the earth’s lesion under the bone heap. Skittish, she edged her way down to the cauldron’s sweltering rim and looked into the hot simmering abyss.

“There boil the souls of those that died in horror, lost to The Crypt in the molten magma’s rage.”

The mumbling continued with spell after spell, conjuring and cajoling the tortured souls to release their concentrated pain’s corrupted energy to her withered soul. Each infusion burned her flesh. Pain pulsed through her as she sucked up the malignant energy, reviving if corrupting her more. Her hands blistered in the tempest, veins seeming to crawl around under her hide. She didn’t notice her popping, sizzling hair above seared eyebrows. Through the night, smoke and steam spewed from her gaping pores running with smoky sweat. Only when the pompoms of hair growing from her nose burned back to their roots would she pull back for an instant. Then she’d again stick her head into the swirling smoke rising from the boiling magma.

“Come; release your pain to me!”

Earwig was there until just before sunrise. When revitalized, she returned to her tower and sent the winged monster to his lair. She didn’t care about her appearance when she descended the tower steps for the morning meal with the duke. Minnabec paled seeing her renewed strength. Her sneer and repugnant smokehouse stench scattered the remaining servants.

With fresh strength came aggression. Her soul mortgaged a high price for recharging, though she hoped to postpone the payment due. She shot a small blue spark down the long table at Minnabec, cowering in his chair. He screamed, shot up, and ran from the room, slapping at his burning flesh. Her folded napkin snapped, signaling expectation to be served, but no servant responded.

* * *

The travelers woke the next morning to dry clothes and gear. They discussed plans over breakfast.

“Lake Lemnos should be below us soon,” Saxthor said.

“On reaching lake’s end, we should leave the mountains and hike to Lake Talok over the hills below,” Tournak said. “We’re far enough from Hoya now that it should be safe to take the easier route.”

They hiked all day, crossing three small ridges, careful to stay below the summits to avoid exposing visible silhouettes. In the evening of the fourth day since escaping the crickets, they again found a cave for the night. Bodrin emerged. “No bear tracks in the entrance here.”

“You sure?” Saxthor asked.

“I’m never going to hear the end of the cave bear oversight, am I?”

Tonelia didn’t look up. “Not likely.”

“Okay, I’ll take pity on you.” Saxthor poked Bodrin. “Let’s split up and find some firewood.”

The fire lit, Tonelia put a pot of water on to boil some dried meat and went in search of herbs. When the meat was tender, she chopped the herbs and tossed in rosemary, some sort of oregano, wild garlic bulbs, and nice young slices of a red steak-like mushroom she’d discovered beneath a scraggly bush.

When she turned again to the pot, she was shocked to see the reflection of a beautiful young woman staring at her. She looked up to see the lady behind her, but there was no one there. The vision chilled her, realizing the men were still out searching for firewood. Alone, she scanned the cave, but there was no person there. Again, she looked in the pot and saw the gentle woman’s reflection staring back at her.

“I’m sorry to have startled you, my dear. You mustn’t eat the stew,” the reflection said in her mind.

“Who’re you? Where are you? What do you want?”

“I’m right here beside you, my dear.” Tonelia felt warmth and spun around. No one was there. Only the light from the fire flickered on the walls.

“Where are you? Who are you?” Scared, Tonelia raised her wooden spoon.

“Look again at me, my dear. Don’t you recognize me?” The face was sad, her smile weak.

“Don’t be ridiculous! How would I recognize you? I’ve never seen you before.”

“It was a long time ago.” The lady looked down, biting her lip.

Tonelia lowered the spoon. “I’m sorry if I offended you, but I don’t know you. Who are you?”

“You were very small when I left. You mustn’t eat the stew.”

“What’re you talking about, woman? None of this makes sense. I’m not going to have someone that isn’t here telling me what to do.”

“The mushroom isn’t a beefsteak mushroom. It’s a mimic, a mushroom of remembrance. You’re seeing me now because you licked your fingers after cutting it up, and you’re remembering me. If you and your friends eat the stew, you’ll all be fondly remembered.”

“Why should I remember someone I never saw before, and how do you know what I put in the pot anyway?”
              “Look again in the water, think back to when you were a very small girl. Don’t you remember seeing me before?”

Tonelia looked again at the woman in the water and concentrated. Little girl… Hmmm ... Then, the vision came to her.

“Mother!”

The woman beamed and said in a soft, loving voice said, “Yes.”

Long suppressed anger surged through Tonelia. “I was six when you left. I loved you, and you left me. Over the years, my pain turned to anger. I realized later you had no choice in death, but as a child, I felt abandoned.”

“Your anger led to your independence as a child. It made you stronger.””

“Yes and made me rebellious toward father’s authority. Mother, how can you just appear now after a dozen years?”

“The mushroom of remembrance is very powerful. It allows you to remember me and, by chance to see my reflection from the next plane on the water’s surface. Remember, I was a sorceress. Your father didn’t like me using magic, but I did, and I taught you a few small tricks as well, you’ll remember.”

“I remember you, Mother.” Warmth washed over Tonelia like ripples on a smooth pond. She tossed the stew out of the cave. “How long will you stay with me?”

“I was able to warn you through the mushroom’s touch. That’ll wear off by morning, and I’ll be gone. You must live your life, child. I must go on with this existence, too, but I had to warn you about the mushroom while I could. I’ll be with you always in your memories, my child.”

“I was very angry that you abandoned me.” Tonelia stared at the cave floor.

“I couldn’t help that child.”

There was a long silence, as Tonelia released the long smoldering wounds in her heart, laying them to rest.

“Go get the mushroom, and dry it. Never eat it, or you’ll not wake up. Keep it with you, and should you need me, rub the mushroom between your fingers. We both have our own roles to play in different worlds now. Use the mushroom sparingly. Remember that I love you always. We’ll be together in our hearts.” With that, the woman faded, just as Bodrin was entering the cave.

“Excuse me.” Tonelia darted past him, recovered the mushroom lifting it with leaves, and placed in on a high ledge to dry. Only then, did she turn to the befuddled Bodrin and smile a warm welcome. “Don’t touch that mushroom and tell the others not to, either.”

Mother’s at peace, she thought.

Puzzled, Bodrin thrust up his arms and backed up. “Not on my life.” He watched her but got no explanation. She hugged him, and that was sufficient.

“Not on your life, indeed.”

Tonelia washed the pot carefully and made a tasty dinner. While the group was eating, Tonelia thought again of her mother and then her own childhood. The mushroom was still working its magic.

Through the mushroom, she remembered her mother making a finger-torch. She regained the knowledge, if not yet the skills, of a novice sorceress.

Tonelia chuckled. She said her mother’s phrase, flicked her thumb and finger, and poof. A small blue flame appeared perched on the tip of her thumb. She rocked back laughing; the others stared.

Next morning, the group set out again across the hilltops. By late morning, from dry rocky peaks, they saw a lush valley between the ridge they were on and the parallel ridge to the north. A sparkling stream bubbled over rocks through the valley and then spilled out down toward the lakes before disappearing into the ground.

In the valley, the rich green of hemlocks and pines contrasted sharply with the dusty gray rocks around them. Trees were laden with fruit. Wild grapes scrambled here and there, dangling their ripening clusters in the autumn sun. The weary travelers stood in awe atop the dreary peaks.

“Wonder why the Tashians haven’t settled around such a productive place,” Saxthor said. Then he remembered what King Ahkenspec told him of the elves’ ability to hide their forest oases from the avarice and envy of man. “I’m thinking elves, Tournak? We may be looking into another elfin enclave. If they, too, know of our coming, they made this vision possible. Let’s go down and greet our hosts.”

“He learns fast,” Bodrin said in passing.

Tonelia gaped at the two young men. “I have no intention of moving until someone does a lot of explaining.”

Tournak, shaking his head, patted her on the shoulder, and the two of them followed Saxthor and Bodrin down into the valley.

“Of all the people in the world, I had to run off with these crazies,” Tonelia said. “I had a secure future in the Hoyahof dungeons, but no, I had to escape with people to fight monster crickets, eat poisonous mushrooms, and encounter elves.” Her head hung shaking.

Bodrin hugged her. “Resigned to your fate?”

Tournak entered. “What’s this about poisonous mushrooms?”

“Don’t ask.”

“Sorry.”

Near the bottom, a forest elf named Icktak from the Talok-Tak Kingdom met the troupe. The elves took them to a large audience hall in the oak trees as honored guests. The great hall was some thirty feet off the ground, built on the massive oak branches of four trees. The walls were open during the day, except for handrails, and woven living tree branches formed the roof. Saxthor observed every detail.

“What an elaborate structure for these desolate mountains,” Saxthor said.

“What’re these, again,” Tonelia said to an elf beside her. She helped herself to another bite of refreshment. “Baked squash with honey and walnuts? I never had winter squash before, and very few nuts make it to the Dungeon Keeper’s table, let me tell you. What a delicious fall harvest you elves have.”

Bodrin watched as she savored the squash, her dreamy eyes almost fluttering. He himself showed appreciation for the meal’s perfection by trying to eat every one of the countless items offered him.

Saxthor was enjoying the elves’ grace and elegance. What a beautiful people they were. He looked over at Tonelia, trying to convince herself the elves were real. “Have some more squash, Tonelia.”

“Why, thank you.” With a nod and wink to her hosts, Tonelia leaned forward and served Bodrin and herself another portion.

King Mendentak of the Talok-Tak Kingdom was quick to engage his guests following their sumptuous feast. He extended greetings from his elves and Memlatec.

“How does Memlatec know we’re here?” Saxthor asked.

“The scattered elfin kingdoms still communicate,” Mendentak said. “Our pigeons are as close to us as dogs are to men.” He patted Delia as he spoke. She wagged her tail and smiled, her raised-lip-dog-smile acknowledging his affection. “Being less conspicuous than the great eagles, hawks, and owls that wizards employ, pigeons usually pass unnoticed by those who’d intercept messages. Memlatec knew if you got this far, our elfin oasis would be a beacon drawing you here. He sent word to expect you and to extend our hospitality and assist you however we can.”

Saxthor amused his hosts with tales of their travels. The cave cricket story in particular thrilled the elves. The prince could tell a great story, and the elves appreciated a good storyteller. He entertained his forest hosts late into the evening.