The morning air was still and fresh. With it, there was a certain liveliness in the camp, an eagerness to be off, to find what was ahead. Adrina, though she had been the last to awake, was the first to rise to the saddle. She shook off the shadowy images that had been invading her sleep and pondered pleasant thoughts. Among the trees she could hear the scampering of small animals and the gallant trumpet call of a few tiny birds whose name she did not know.
A light cloud cover at first obscured an otherwise pristine morning, but in the first hours of the new day it burned away, revealing a clear cloudless sky. The hills they galloped through shifted from a gradual rolling grade to a steep vaulted pitch as they neared the mountains, and they leveled off to what was perhaps a plateau or mountain plains. Tall peaks loomed up, screaming their presence into the very air. From the slopes at the bottom, the view was dazzling.
They rode smoothly, coming to an abrupt halt almost too soon. The winds had just picked up, bringing in the scents of the highlands, a mixture of aromas. Simple stands of trees dotted the mountainsides, mostly of pine or evergreen. Waters of a stream that flowed from an unseen lake down across the plateau now ran swiftly, thanks to the previous night’s precipitation. There was also a hint of grasses that had once been tall and proud hidden now beneath this season’s early snows. Guarded walls stood before them; the journey was at an end.
Underneath the parapets the gatehouse stood, its outer portcullis raised and unhindering. A line of thirteen horses forming two columns rode into its confines, reaching the inner gate, which sat low. The gatehouse stretched a full sixty feet between the thick avenues of the wall. A set of malignant chains hung lifeless, attached to a wheel on the far side of the house.
They looked up to the small cavities set into the floor of the roof, which in truth formed the floor of the second level. Then they looked beyond the gate into the heart of a city that most would never see or know. The spires of a great palace, perhaps a castle, dominated the village. Around it in many clusters were domiciles small and large—inns; bars and keeps; shops of various assortments, some with small signs suspended over their doors; and many others, too numerous to be named.
Access was made possible by a winding of the heavy chains round the wheel. There were no heralds to greet them this day, and for the most part the city appeared to be silent. Still, the day was young, but not altogether so. Amir was the most agitated by the lull. He flexed and huffed, mostly to himself, yet also with Noman’s watchful eye upon him. Nijal and Shchander talked in sullen tones between themselves.
Xith searched through his bags for something he couldn’t quite find, touching his hands at long last to a silver flask and retrieving it happily. Before they continued, he gave it to Adrina.
Most noticeably befuddled over the absence of life in the city was Noman. He did not know how he could have been wrong. He had seen the path’s end so vividly. It was time, and this was definitely the place. A gnawing emptiness drew him. Step by step and almost in a daze, he went across the city that was spread out before him like a hearty feast, moving toward a central place where he knew a square lay.
The market was empty and mostly cleared. A few vacant stalls pockmarked its otherwise clean face. The group stopped here and dismounted. Dust swirled around their feet as they did so. Noman conferred with Xith and Amir before continuing on, leading their horses across the square to a long, winding stair. This new section of the city was perhaps more ancient than that surrounding it, more elegant than the latter.
As they crossed, a parapet with merlons kept them from the innermost area. They passed easily through gate-like breaches at the ground level. Beyond stood a palisade. Its walks showed its age, but all in all it was preserved well.
The inner keep, a fortress with numerous lofty spires, had no outer moat, which Amir counted odd since he vividly recalled one. All things change with time, he thought. Its stones were weathered and scarred, but this marring in no way detracted from the sudden impact of its grandeur. Remnants of a path followed towards the immense prominence, which was the outer door, two great timbers of dark wood with iron bands.
Their horses were left on their own; within the set of walls, they could not wander far. The company proceeded up the path by foot. The walk across broken bridges made them uneasy, and hands edged toward sword hilts, but none took note of it. They tugged on the rope on the entry to the right, but nothing happened. A second attempt on the left, followed by sending a strong rapping with the metal knocker set into the doors also brought no results. It was a small push that caused the doors to open, and they swung easily inward on vast, silent hinges.
Adrina controlled the smile upon her lips and stepped aside so Noman could go in first, followed by Amir. Noman quickly opened the doors wide to let in some fresh air, for the air inside was thick and stale. A long hall was revealed and though lines of torches adorned its walls, none were lit.
With several torches in hand, they entered. The corridors they came upon, turning neither left nor right, were quiet and clean but unoccupied. A faint clicking noise began, rumbling low from beneath their feet, growing in volume the deeper they delved. As the noise became more audible, it sounded like the tapping of a long wooden shaft against the hard stone, and it was almost precisely timed with their footsteps.
As they chanced upon and crossed an open courtyard, they looked upward toward the walks set into the outer walls. The tapping sound was louder here and seemed to emanate from above or around them rather than beneath them. A large fountain sat silently brooding in the middle of the courtyard. A greenish quagmire now rested where crystalline waters had once run and every now and again something within the slime gurgled and churned. The group steered wide of the fountain.
Amir turned mid-stride on his heels, whirling his eyes upward, glaring. He had almost expected to hear trumpets blaring forth in herald from atop the cornermost tower. As he turned and stopped, he smacked into Adrina, who was suddenly shaken from her thoughts. He rested his hand upon her shoulder as he whispered his apology. Still, though, he had felt a presence from the tower.
He stood poised for a time regarding the edifice, a leering tower of dark stone. Puzzled, he gawked at it for an extra few seconds before he turned away. Noman followed Amir’s line of sight, moving from blackened window to blackened window until he reached the summit, and then suddenly his eyes came to rest on a window three rows down and one to the right. He wasn’t sure if it were the sunlight playing tricks through the open tower or if he actually saw the shadow of a figure standing there watching them. A sudden shiver came over Noman, bringing a line of goose bumps up his back, rising from the tip of his spine to the back of his neck. He forced himself to look away. Xith smiled.
The shadow was gone when Noman turned to look back; only the light of the sun’s rays remained to play along the face of the tower. They continued on, stopping and starting, not realizing that a veil of silence had come over them. After a deliberate pause at the top of a stair opposite their entrance, they returned indoors.
Adrina watched the others pass through the doorway, but she lingered a moment in the sunlight, bathing in its warmth. She sighed deeply and then followed the others. A hand reaching out grabbing hers, startling her. Her heart raced and then slowed, a sudden glow touched her face, falling as her chin dropped down. She met a pair of eyes, liquid blue, and shining like newborn stars. The face that swathed the eyes was equally as warm and inviting.
Xith watched Adrina go, fading into the realm of dreams and shadows, saddened like a father losing his little girl, though no one else knew. He was now the last one, walking along a hall that stretched out in front of him, seemingly without conclusion. He perceived movement behind him and spun about.
At first he greeted those behind him with warmth even though he knew of their treachery. The one he fixed on stood with head poised proudly, leaning his weight upon a thick staff. His face was badly beaten on the right side, causing that entire side to hang listlessly. He stared at Xith through eyes that were scarcely open.
“He will no longer let you in, and you cannot hope to find the door. That is a pity,” spoke Xith coldly.
“I no longer require permission to enter. I come and go as I please.”
“Then why do you walk these halls without purpose?”
“I was waiting for you, dear friend, and now I shall have everything I ever wanted.”
“You are keeping the secret from even him, aren’t you? That is heroic, but you are still a subversive fool. He will find a way into your mind. You cannot hope to trick him.”
“It is not heroism, I assure you. It is the one thing he wants, even more than your knowledge of the arcane arts. And do you know what is so exquisitely simple about all this? He doesn’t even know that I could give him the key if he would only ask.”
“And just what do you seek in return? Will you stand at his side and act as his right hand?”
“I want nothing so basic. I want to be both his hands.”
“You, Talem, are the naive one. He will use you until you are spent and then he will cast you away. You are nothing—do not forget that.”
“No, I will give him the two things he wants most, and I will give him you also.”
Xith stepped away angrily, casting aside the bag he carried. A quick glance to the rear showed him that the others still walked the path without end. He wondered how far they would go before they realized the truth of the illusion. Surely, he thought, Noman would guess it.
“We shall end this here and now—you and me. I shall let you corrupt all that you touch no more.”
“They will not allow it,” said Talem, indicating the robed figures around him.
“You were once the most promising. I should have known the truth of your ways, but I would not believe them. They told me the same about him, but I still have hope.”
Talem roared with laughter, “You are spent. Give up now, and I promise that when the time comes, your pain will be swift.”
Xith raised a warning hand, “Do not make promises you cannot keep.” Xith spun his hand before his face, preparing to release the energies he had been drawing within him over the past few minutes.
“Don’t!”
“Don’t what? This?” replied Xith spinning a ball of fire from his hands, “I know you, Talem; your magic is not real. Mine, on the other hand, is. We will end this now! You shall not leave this sanctuary with life yet coursing through your veins. I promise you.”
Talem cringed as flames sparked around his shield wall. The heat of the fire brought tiny bursts of perspiration to his brow. Talem’s followers rebuked with fires of their own, bombarding Xith time after time. Even under the strain, Xith didn’t wipe the smile from his lips. He wore it broadly, proving his strength.
“I have been savoring this spell for some time. I think you will like it,” Xith said menacingly. He crossed his hand before him in a line and then formed a fist. Talem mocked him as nothing happened; the magic just seemed to fade away. Xith returned his scorn with equal generosity.
The stones beneath Talem’s feet began to bow and warp. A din filled the air, a rasping, popping, cracking sound. A crack appeared, minute at first, and then the floor rent and broke. Talem fell clawing and grasping at the wall behind him, clutching to the edge just before he was swallowed by the hole. His eyes went wide as he watched his staff drop into the abyss.
Xith didn’t have time for a second attack; he had to make an immediate counter. He gulped air as he restored the shield wall around him, wincing from the slight searing he had received. He looked away from Talem as he was scrambling to return to his feet, toward the source of his lament. He stared at each, trying to delve beyond their eyes and into their thoughts.
He knew Talem well enough to know his magicians were all frauds, having acquired their skills just as their master did. Which has the shield, he thought to himself, and would it be a ring, book, staff or maybe even a medallion? He knew the magicks of old better than most. He dreaded the thought of times he had assisted in their delivery to this place.
Seven, he considered to himself. Talem always had been superstitious. Xith eyed the second figure on the right evilly, glaring as he released a surge of energy. A blue-white ball streaked across the hall from his fingertip, enshrouding the other. He heard a barely audible whimper as the other was incinerated.
His assumption had been right. The barrier shield fell, and he began to take the others out one by one. They began running wildly about, trying to escape. Two fell into the hole that was still spreading about their feet, and the remainder Xith delivered quickly. Without a defense, they were felled easily. At the last, he felt compassion for them.
Xith’s eyes crossed, and he groped for his back. A sharp pain had suddenly overcome him. He whirled around to see Talem standing behind him with a bloody dagger in his hand. Everything began spinning; and as he looked up, the ceiling was circling about him.
“The edge was poisoned—so sad, I had really wanted to have you as a prize. But before you go, I shall have your secrets. Tell me the place, Xith, and maybe I can save you. You can live. Isn’t that what you want? Where is it?”
Xith bade Talem to draw closer as he began to whisper shallowly. Fixated on Xith and the desire for knowledge, Talem came closer and closer. “I will tell you,” whispered Xith. “Come here.” Xith edged backwards as he bade Talem to move forward, and as Talem hunched down to listen, Xith grabbed him about the collar and the throat, jerking him forward as hard as he could. Xith sidestepped and as Talem flailed at the air, trying to grab onto him, he kicked him in the face, and then both men fell. Talem’s eyes were wild and staring. Xith saw huge balls of white with black pupils disappear into the emptiness below him. Talem’s screams were also wild and horrible. He could not believe that he was about to die.
Xith, on the other hand, accepted it. He did not turn about or flail but instead counted the last moments of his life, knowing how precious each and every last breath was. He knew how important every last conscious thought was, and he was glad. He knew Adrina would be safe.
He waited, but he suddenly realized that he had not died. He was not even moving. He turned to look about, and his body was sprawled out on the floor at the very edge of the culvert. He began to wonder what the poison was doing to him. He was numb, but he did not appear to be dying, and he wondered if it were some trick of Talem’s, perhaps his last. Xith closed his eyes momentarily, clasping his hands together, and then, although he couldn’t seem to bring his hands or feet to movement, he could still turn his head, and he did, turning his eyes outward, into the courtyard where he saw Adrina entering the path without end.
“Say nothing. Let them go,” the voice told her. “They will not miss you, I am sure.”
Adrina watched lips move, but she was drawn to the eyes, and the beckoning hand that told her to follow was just an image tucked far into the most obscure corner of her vision. She did so only because a hand returned to her own and coerced her decision.
“Do not fight it, let me in. I will do you no harm. I see he is in your dreams now. Do you have the strength to cast him away or will he sweep you away as he did the other? I wonder—would you allow me to follow?”
“Will he win?” asked Adrina.
“Only if you let him.”
Adrina screwed her face up tight, as if she were just suddenly realizing a thing she had been trying hard to remember. “Where have they all gone?”
“Do not worry about them. They are gone so that you may be safe. You will rest here now till it is time. You are safe, my fair princess. Leave the world of cares behind and stay here as long as you like. You have made a wise and good choice.”
As the other recommended, Adrina twirled around; and as the fading images of the outside world slowed, everything turned bright and luxurious. She shivered as a light spray of water touched her face. The fountain enclosure was in full bloom, as was the garden around her. A soft rapping noise filtered into her ears, coming from the four corners of the walls behind her, circling from west to east.
Adrina grew sad and listless. Her chin drooped again and emotions swelled up in her eyes. A gripping emptiness gnawed at her heart. She felt suddenly alone as if she had lost all that she cared for. Her lower lip began to tremble and she bit at it to get it to stop, but it wouldn’t. At first only a solitary tear found its way down her cheek, rolling across her chin to her neck, but soon the anguish flourished. She wrapped her arms around herself to quell it, but that only caused the trembling to spread. She kneeled to the ground, lowering her head in heavy, almost mournful sobs.
“You have taken the first step and won; there is nothing to be sad about.”
“But,” began Adrina, “I think I will miss them.” Her face was flushed deep red and her eyes were swollen and misty. She sniffled and pulled at her lip.
“Remember, I am here with you; I will not go, so you are not alone. We will walk together for a time, you and me. The next step will not be so easy, and progressively so, but we have time now, so rest, rest well.”
Adrina’s tears subsided, and although she still sat idle, she no longer felt alone. “Here, I think this is for you,” she said, handing the other a small round object. Her thoughts began to wander back to happier, distant times and her mood lightened. After coming to her feet, she cupped her hands together and partook of the cool waters of the fountain. The water was sweet and satisfying as it passed her lips.
Overhead the sun was shifting from its apex, meandering west, and in time it came to touch the horizon, bringing with it an end to the day. Adrina watched it from time to time, sifting back and forth through her thoughts. Many faces crossed before the windows of her mind, some weathered and faded, some new and fresh. As the first shades of night arrived, Adrina found her happiness and a sense of peace. The future was no longer dark and uncertain. She was safe in this place. Wasn’t she?