The Staff of Naught (16 page)

“Mmmmga, understand,” said Radvor and hit his open palm with the hammer yet again. “Want to kill now.”

“We must all get used to disappointment now and again my friend. There will be plenty of time to enjoy the fruits of our labor. Shall we make camp? I’m not looking forward to sleeping out here in the open without a good steel roof over my head. The Maw has been active of late, that damn smith of ours claims the Black Fire is running hot, and I don’t like the sound of that at all.”

“Edorin great power, he make Morto,” said Radvor and looked over the weapon in his hand. It had a long ash handle carved of the finest wood but it was the iron head, huge but light, that made the weapon so particularly dangerous. A single black streak of iron ran through the otherwise solid steel weapon and it seemed to actually pulse as the bugbear hammered it into his fist.

“Don’t forget that it was I who had Edorin forge that for you, Radvor,” said Lorim who took a step back for the glistening weapon that seemed to give off a low hum the more the bugbear handled it. “In the morning,” he concluded and bugbear nodded his head and growled yet again.

In the camp, Unerus sat between Shalalee and Tylan and roasted pieces of meat on long sticks while Ariana sat by herself and stared at the fire a frown upon her face. The voice had not come to her since that first time and the fading blue ghost remained a constant reminder of the imminent destruction of the staff. She knew it was an evil thing but it was her burden to bear and the thought of leaving it somehow pained her.

Almara and Lousa washed dishes in the small creek that flowed down the side of the mountain and provided them with ready-made hot water. “I don’t think she wants to destroy it,” said the matronly woman as she scrubbed a white and blue ceramic plate with a thick brush. “She’s grown attached to it somehow. I see her staring at the sack she carries it in all the time and when she thinks no one is looking she takes it out and holds it like a priest making a pronouncement.”

“It will be good to be rid of the thing,” said Lousa to the woman. The elf was dressed in a slack fitting brown dress that was not particularly flattering to her figure and her hair was tied up in a bun strands of green running loosely and erratically down her face.

“What will you do then?” asked Almara. “You’re not ready to be a full time mother.”

“No,” said Lousa with a shake of her head. “But, I have grown fond of them. Your girl and Unerus seem to be having something of a first romance.”

“He’s a stout little fellow,” said Almara. “Shalalee could do much worse than him. He seems to be picking up Shamki’s lessons quite well. I’m afraid my Tanner will never be a swordsman. He’s a good teacher, a good father figure that one,” continued the woman with a nod of her head to her husband who stood at the edge of the circle and looked up towards the stars. “I understand you were raised by orcs?”

Lousa turned to look at the older woman. “Well, my mother was a slave and I was born to a half-orc chieftain but I left when I was young.”

“That must be quite a story,” said the woman and took up another plate and dipped it in the warm water of the tub. “We’ll need a fresh batch of hot water soon,” she said and turned to look for her son. “Tylan, Ariana, come over here.”

The two children stopped what they were doing and walked over to her with their heads held low. “What is it mom,” said the boy.

“You two fetch some more hot water from the creek and don’t be too long about it. There might be more of those scorpion things lurking about. You saw how that big one got away.”

“Aww mom, that creek stinks like rotten eggs,” said Tylan but Ariana quietly picked up the tub and tried to lift it but the water inside slopped wildly over the edge as it almost slid off the stand.

“Help the girl,” said Almara and Tylan immediately jumped forward and steadied the tub. They took it between then and walked a short distance away from the wagon and dumped the water on the ground and then walked back down the path a short way.

“Boy,” said Shamki in a low growl from his place at the edge of the camp and Unerus, who busily showed Shalalee something with wild motions of his hands, followed by gales of girlish laughter, sat upright, and immediately walked over to the half-orc warrior.

“What is it Shamki?” he questioned and looked in the same direction as the orc towards the starry sky.

“Eyes watch,” said the half-orc with a steady gaze at the sky and the faint blue glimmer that was Khemer chose that moment to float over near the two.

“Do you see something, Shamki,” wheezed the tired voice. The ghost seemed to lose more of its image each day that passed and now, even in the darkness of night, it was very faint indeed. The half-orc ignored the blue ghost and Unerus, who started to reply, shut his mouth and began to look around at the hills.

“Tomorrow this will all be over,” gasped Khemer his faint blue glow increased a small amount but the half-orc again did not reply nor did Unerus and eventually Khemer floated away towards Lousa who put away some of the pots and pans used for the dinner.

“You see,” said the half-orc and barely moved his lips, his voice only audible to the boy who was but a step away.

“Not yet,” said Unerus with a shake of his head, “I will,” and he continued to look around careful to make sure that his head pointed differently than the direction of his eyes and that’s when he spotted the faint red glow that seemed to intensify for a moment and then fade away.

The half-orc heard the slight intake of breath and put his arm around the boy and pointed towards a particular group of constellations in the sky, “Svorag, the Smith,” said Shamki out loud.

“A little red light that gets brighter and dimmer,” said Unerus in a hoarse whisper. “But, what is it, animal’s eyes?”

Shamki reached into his back pocket, pulled out a small tin, opened it with dexterous fingers, and squeezed a pinch of dark leaf onto a thin piece of dried white bark. He then rolled it closed with a practiced motioned and nodded his head towards the fire.

Unerus immediately jumped towards the blaze and put a stick into the fire until its tip was set ablaze. He then returned this to the orc who brought it up to the thing, which now dangled from his mouth. Within a few seconds it was a light with a small red blaze although the half-orc turned his body away from the cliff face where Unerus spotted the very similar glow just a few moments before.

“Someone’s watching us?” asked the boy now fully aware of what it was he saw up in the hills. “What could they want, how could they know?”

Shamki inhaled deeply and cigarette in his mouth burned brightly and then took the end of it and flicked an ash towards where Khemer hovered over Lousa his aura growing more intense by the moment.

“What should we do?” whispered Unerus.

“Tomorrow, during ceremony, maybe after, they attack. Be ready, use ears, eyes,” said the half-orc and Unerus nodded his head and then yawned and stretched for a moment before he grimaced in pain as he overextended his still tender ribs. “Why did you have to hit me so hard?” he asked in a loud voice and Shamki gave off a great guffaw.

“No be stupid, no get hit,” said the half-orc and made a half-hearted swing at the boy who ducked away and fled back to the campfire.

It took most of the morning to clear debris from the ancient, worn down circle whose stones time had ground to almost nothing. That it was even a circle at all was not easy to determine but Khemer pointed out each of the ancient stones and its original position. According to the ghost the circle once contained fifty or sixty individual stones along with a massive central stone that focused the magic of the Old Empire.

“Powerful magic,” wheezed the ghost and pointed towards the cracked piece of stone that he claimed once focused more magical energy than even the most powerful wizard of today’s world could attain. “There were tens of thousands of these, all over the world,” said as the ghost as he waved his arms and his glow intensified.

Tylan and Shalalee were the most eager of the group to clear the area from the accumulated rubble of who knows how many years of neglect. Some of the boulders were quite large and it took the combined effort of Tanner and Shamki using long sticks to lever them out of the way and even Hazlebub joined in using her various potions to give the men more strength. Unerus tried one but it tasted so vile that he spat it out immediately much to the amusement of the old witch who cackled so long and hard that she broke into a coughing fit so severe that the boy thought she might actually fall over dead.

Ariana spent the time sitting in the wagon and clutched her sack to her chest and spoke to no one. She had a faraway sort of look in her eye and rebuffed Lousa each time the woman tried to engage her in conversation. They completed the work by midmorning and the circle was as clear as it was going to get. Khemer’s ghostly aura seemed to be recovered now that the end of their journey was near and he darted from one place in the circle to the next with instructions to Hazlebub on how to draw strange little rune marks onto the magical stones with a piece of charcoal.

He also enlisted Lousa and the children to sprinkle the remains of several creatures they captured during the night on the rocks, scorpions, strange little mountain lizards that seemed to be everywhere, and some of the witch’s potions as well. Unerus helped out where he could but always kept an eye towards the rocky land around them. There was so much cover that he spotted more places that might be hiding ambushers than places that were clearly empty of such threats.

Shamki seemed to maintain a casual guard pacing back and forth while he snacked on some jerked meat and practiced some of his strange sword rituals.

Finally after what seemed like hours of preparation work the ghost called them all together at the center of the circle. “I am ready,” he pronounced in a heavy voice that seemed more solid than any he had used almost since his first appearance. “The ceremony should take place at high noon when the sun is at its apex which will ensure the destruction of the staff. Lousa, you should stand over on that rock there. The ghost then arranged each of the rest of the group making certain to position the children over towards one particular side of the cliff face except for Ariana who stood at the center of the circle the satchel at her feet.

A sideways glance from Shamki towards the rocky outcropping closest to where Shalalee and Tylan stood was not even necessary for the boy had already spotted a thin trail of smoke, white, and all but invisible trailing into the sky from behind that barrier.

“Retrieve the Staff of Naught,” intoned Khemer towards Ariana who stood over the satchel for a moment and then shook her head.

“I won’t do, you’ll have to do it yourself,” said the girl and folded her arms across her chest.

“Come now Ariana,” said Lousa with a step towards the girl. Suddenly the voice of the old man filled her head and drowned out the words of the half-elf.

“Do not fear Ariana,” said the voice and the girl suddenly sensed a strange picture in her mind. A huge city wall with a massive gate, broken into two pieces as if split by one massive sword swing and above it impossibly tall snow covered mountains.

“It’s beautiful,” she said out loud although Lousa took that to mean the staff.

“No it’s terrible,” said the woman but the girl did not listen, at least not to her. “Come on Ariana, let’s get this over with and we can go back to Iv’s Folly, or wherever you want. We’ll see the Thilnog Monks, Hot Rock, your choice.”

But the girl heard none of this as she waited for the voice to speak to her again. When nothing happened for a moment she bent down and picked up the sack untying the threads that kept it closed. Inside the staff almost seemed to leap out towards her but she wasn’t afraid for some reason and grabbed it firmly in her own hand.

“You see my home, the King of Cities, Das’von the Mighty, Das’von the Ancient, seat of the Empire, home of my master Elucidor the Omnipotent. I cannot tell you more; I do not have the time or the power Ariana but do not fear. And always, always, remember that gods do not exist; they are simply ancient creatures, pumped up phantoms who believe themselves to be more important than they truly are. We will bring them down, we will end the age of darkness and tyranny they have wrought, take out Hazhallahad’s Staff, and let the End Times begin!” And then as suddenly as the voice and image were in her head they were gone again and the seemingly small and plaintive nagging sounds that had bothered at her for some moments came to the front again.

“It’ll be ok sweetie,” said Lousa with another step towards the girl.

Ariana suddenly jerked into motion as if she awakened from a shallow sleep, pulled out the Staff of Naught, and held it high above her head.

“Good girl,” said Khemer. “Now, put it down on this rock right in front of me and I’ll begin the ceremony.”

The girl turned to him a small grin on her face and she looked the ghost in the eyes, into his aura, and he suddenly felt a terrible chill, a thing he had not felt since his strength left him and he sank for a final time under the waves. “Put the staff down,” he snapped anger in his voice so apparent that Shalalee and Tylan took a step backwards and even Unerus looked to the two forgetting his watch over the small rocky outcropping. “Put it down foolish girl,” said Khemer again his aura grew so bright that he seemed to become a single ball of blue light.

“Elucidor,” hissed the girl at him and made a motion as if to attack.

The ghost seemed to fall over backwards and away from the girl, who simply laid the staff at his feet on the small rock, then turned her back on him and walked over next to Lousa who stared at her with an open mouth.

“What did you say?”

Ariana only shrugged and then took the woman by the hand, “It’s going to be all right, you’ll see.”

Khemer recovered quickly and began a series of elaborate movements around the staff his body twisted and contorted as if to some strange, unheard music. Then the ghost began to chant words in the language of the desert people, the Tarltonites.