The King's Ring (The Netherworld Gate Book 2) (9 page)

BOOK: The King's Ring (The Netherworld Gate Book 2)
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Jaleal frowned. “How do you know about them then?”

Phinean smiled. “Jahre was there during the Elf Wars. He told me a lot of the history. He didn’t wholly trust the Kruks, and wanted to bring in someone who was not an elf. He said he wanted to ensure that balance was restored to the realm, and that is why he chose me.”

“Did he tell other gnomes?”

Phinean shook his head. “No, and I have been asked not to disclose it to them either.” Phinean stopped and looked deep into Jaleal’s eyes. “I am not sure if every gnome is like you where you come from, but the gnomes of my home village are a scared, tepid race of folk. They prefer to mix potions and dabble in magics than concern only themselves rather than become involved with the dealings of humans and elves. With magic being nearly wholly forbidden, you aren’t likely to see any other gnomes here.”

“Come on then, let’s go see what is inside this tunnel,” Jaleal said.

Phinean nodded and the two redoubled their pace, delving deeper into the bowels of the island. Ten minutes later they stopped as they came to a large chamber. The ceiling was well over thirty feet above them, the width of the chamber was about thirty yards, and it continued straight forward for another fifty yards from where the gnomes stood. Jaleal stepped into the chamber and his eyes grew wide as he saw a plethora of symbols painted into the walls, and even a few on the ceiling. He could not make out the runes. He knew that they were written in Taish, the language of the elves, but he couldn’t decipher their meaning.

“There,” Phinean said as he pointed to a large mural painted across the wall. It was a depiction of a black dragon flying with a short rider on his back, holding a long spear. “This is a drawing of King Lemork,” Phinean said. “Lemork had been the great Sierri’Tai leader who had set the dark elf clans against all who would oppose them, especially the other elf races.” Phinean paused and took in a deep breath. “From what Jahre told me afterward, King Lemork ultimately intended to slay Basei, the God of Battle.”

“Demigod,” Jaleal corrected.

Phinean arched a brow.

“A demigod is not the same as a god,” Jaleal pointed out. “They are far above our powers for sure, but they are still inferior to the Old Gods.”

Phinean offered a slight grin. “I think Jahre would have liked you very much,” he said.

“Was the Elf War really so bad that a whole race had to be banished?” Jaleal asked.

Phinean nodded. “It may not seem justifiable to any who had not lived through that dark time, but the Elf War had been of an almost unimaginable scale. The losses on both sides were high. King Lemork’s forces were winning. Aided by the black dragon, Lemork would have completed his conquest and eradicated the elves, securing the Elven Isles for the exclusive use of the Sierri’Tai. Banishment is not taken lightly, but it was necessary. Lemork offered no quarter to his enemies. Had it not been for the human king, all would have been lost. King Dailex came down from Raia, the main continent in the north that is now divided into the kingdoms of Shausmat and Zinferth. King Dailex rode upon a white dragon and was a terribly formidable warrior. He arrived with thousands of the best human soldiers and bolstered the courage of the elves. He led the united force against Lemork and the Sierri’Tai.”

“A human rode a dragon?” Jaleal asked breathlessly. “That must have been a sight to see.”

Phinean nodded. “There are legends surrounding the dragon. Some say it appeared because it knew the black dragon. Others say it was a magical manifestation sent by the Old Gods to deliver us from extermination.”

Jaleal stepped to the wall and ran his fingers over the painted stone. “I should have liked to see a human ride a dragon, especially a dragon who still had its honor intact.”

“You said you have hunted dragons before,” Phinean said. “What was that like?”

Jaleal shook his head. “It would take longer to explain that adventure than what we have time for. Let’s just say that in the Middle Kingdom, there aren’t too many dragons left that have any honor in them whatsoever.” Jaleal then pointed to the figure of the human king and turned around to Phinean. “What happened to him?”

Phinean nodded soberly. “King Dailex had suffered mortal injuries in his great battle with King Lemork. So, while he succeeded in defeating Lemork, he had not the strength to return to his own kingdom. Thus, Raia fractured from within as different factions grappled with each other for power until the land finally came under the rule of two houses. It was a bloody affair, a lot like the Elf War.”

“Did the elves help the humans?”

Phinean shook his head. “Nothing like how the humans had helped the elves. There were pockets of warriors here and there, but you must understand, nearly everyone was killed during the Elf War. We didn’t have an organized army to send. Even if we had, King Dailex’s family was hunted down. It wasn’t something that could be helped.”

Jaleal nodded and moved along the wall until he came to another image. This one depicted a group of elves standing around an altar.

“That would be the time when the elves were fashioning the relics necessary to banish the rest of the Sierri’Tai. This was a solution the elf council had proposed, but King Dailex had always opposed it, saying it was better to fight to the last man in the hopes that the Sierri’Tai would give up their quest for blood than to banish an entire race to the Netherworld. However, when King Dailex died, there were no other viable options. The Sierri’Tai were fierce warriors, and they only grew more zealous after the death of their king. Banishing them may have destroyed a race, but it saved the rest of us from death. The Svetli’Tai elders worked with a pair of Tomni’Tai elves to banish every Sierri’Tai to the Netherworld.”

“The Tomni’Tai?” Jaleal asked. “But they are also dark elves. They are a closer race of elves to the Sierri’Tai than any other elf race. Why would they work to destroy the Sierri’Tai?”

“As I said,” Phinean began. “The Sierri’Tai wanted the destruction of all other elf races. They viewed all others, even the Tomni’Tai, as inferior races, mistakes of the gods. Their vision was to wipe all inferior races from the Elven Isles, and then to expand from there.”

Phinean motioned toward the other side of the chamber. “Come, I think I see the dragon’s skeleton.”

Jaleal turned and followed his companion to the other side of the vast chamber. As they neared the back of the cavern, Jaleal noticed that one of the walls was lined with roots and shoots of plants from the surface above. A small hole in the floor opened up to an underground stream. He bent down and gingerly stretched forth his fingers. The water was cool, and moved quickly. Something dark darted through his field of vision and he pulled his hand back. He then tested the depth of the water with his spear. He never found the bottom. He pulled the weapon back and hurried to catch up with Phinean, who was standing a short way off admiring a massive skull.

“The elves chased the dragon into this cave?” Jaleal asked incredulously. He judged the beast to be at least as large as Tu’luh the Red in life, and no dragon that size would have been able to worm into the tunnel.

Phinean shook his head. “No, the cave was a larger cavern back then. The great beast was injured, with a broken wing.” Phinean pointed up and Jaleal nodded when he saw the badly fractured right wing bone. “It came here to hide. Rather than fight the monster, the elves used their magic to shrink the cave. Then they fortified it so that the beast’s claws would be of no avail.”

“So he was buried alive,” Jaleal whispered. “A cruel fate for anyone.”

“Doubly so for a dragon,” Phinean said with a short nod. “Surely it would have taken many, many years for him to die of starvation.”

“He could have slept,” Jaleal said. “When did you say the Elf War ended?”

“A little more than five hundred years ago,” Phinean said.

Jaleal stopped and stared at Phinean. “That is the same timeframe as the Battle of Hamath Valley,” he said.

Phinean frowned. “I haven’t heard of that.”

Jaleal pointed at the dragon skeleton and shook a finger at it. “Five hundred years ago, Tu’luh the Red and Nagar the Black led an army against the Father of the Ancients in the Middle Kingdom. I wonder if perhaps the magic they used there was in any way connected with Gorensikdar and the Sierri’Tai going to war against the other elves. Nagar himself was a Sierri’Tai elf as well.”

Phinean shrugged. “I’m not for knowing that,” he said apologetically. “All I know, is we need to find Lemork’s bones.”

Jaleal shot him a puzzled look.

Phinean scrunched his brow into a neat knot over his nose impatiently. “The sword would be buried with the body.”

Jaleal nodded. The two of them spread out through the chamber, but the floor looked smooth in every part of the grand cavern. They both made a full circle and ended up standing next to the wall behind the skeleton, which was covered in thick roots. Phinean was positively perplexed. His hands sat upon his hips and he made several huffing noises as he glanced from side to side and tried to imagine where the body might rest. Jaleal abandoned the search and turned to examine the strange roots covering the wall.

He reached in and wrapped his fingers around a solid, rubbery root and pulled it away from the wall. The piece snapped off in his hand, spraying a bit or maroon liquid onto his hand.

“Is this like a beet root?” Jaleal asked as he brought his hand up and sniffed it.

Phinean didn’t respond. He was too busy pacing around the floor and kicking at the dirt with his toes trying to uncover King Lemork’s burial spot.

Jaleal nibbled a tiny bit of the root in his mouth and then spit out the bitter substance. He dropped the root onto the ground and rubbed his tongue along the roof of his mouth. Then he turned and saw something through the roots. He used his spear to move the thick, vine-like tendrils out of the way and discovered another rune painted on the wall, only, it wasn’t just drawn on with paint. It was also carved into the stone. The marks were shallow, but it was a carving nonetheless.

The warrior gnome cleared the roots away from around it, breaking several of them off and letting them fall to the ground. As he did so, he uncovered several more runes. They were placed in a vertical column.

“What is this?” Jaleal asked.

“That’s it!” Phinean exclaimed. The other gnome rushed in and rabidly ripped the roots away from the wall. “This is where he was buried.”

“But this is made of stone,” Jaleal said. “How could someone bury him in stone? Didn’t you say that the elves put a magical protection on the stone to make it impossible to dig through?”

Phinean waved Jaleal off and pushed the warrior gnome back out of his way. “Yes, yes. Just, give me a moment to inspect it.” The gnome traced his fingers over the runes. As his flesh touched each of the symbols, they began to glow a faint, blueish hue. The stone hummed and vibrated. Dust fell from cracks that encircled a great mass of stone around the symbols, and then it fell out toward them. Phinean shrieked as he jumped out of the way, only narrowly escaping being flattened.

Inside stood a clean skeleton with bits of long hair still clinging to the top of the skull. Black cloth was worn and rotting away from the silvery chainmail beneath. A crown of silver sat upon the skull, and a ring of timoku sat upon the bony index finger on the left hand.

“This is something I have not seen for a long time,” Phinean said as he reached for the ring. “It is made of gray and black titanium that has been folded and melded together. It is obscenely valuable.” Phinean carefully slid the ring off of the brittle finger and then tossed it to Jaleal. “But there is no sword here.”

“Are you sure?” Jaleal asked as he inspected the ring.

Phinean nodded. “We need to make haste for Selemet Isle.”

“Do you know where the assassin is headed?”

“I have an idea. I know where one of the relics is that he will need to open the Netherworld Gate. Come, we must hurry. If he is already traveling by sea, then we haven’t much time to spare.”

The gnomes ran out from the cave, but they didn’t go back to Bluewater. Phinean led them deeper into the forest until they emerged onto a sandy beach. Jaleal looked up and down the coast, but he didn’t see any ships.

“You don’t plan on swimming do you?” he jested.

Phinean grinned and went to the water. He waded in up to his waist and then slapped the water with his right palm. He repeated the gesture, slapping the water once and then waiting for several seconds before slapping it again.

“Mind filling me in?” Jaleal asked as he neared the water’s edge.

At that instant, a large, black dorsal fin rose from the sea about sixty yards away from Phinean. A massive, black body broke the surface of the water and arced toward the gnomes. It disappeared down again and then rose up through the surface with such speed that it jumped up from the water, exposing the white markings on its side and underbelly. It crashed down with a tremendous splash.

Phinean turned back and grinned wide. “This is how we will beat the human to Selemet Isle. I know a shortcut that will get us to where we need to go. With any luck, we will have a day or two to prepare for him.”

Jaleal cocked his head to the side and pulled on his silvery beard. “You want me to ride that?”

Phinean nodded enthusiastically. “No better way to travel, I always say!”

BOOK: The King's Ring (The Netherworld Gate Book 2)
10.75Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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