His Cure For Magic (Book 2) (23 page)

His voice was soft. "I hope we survive long enough to escape this place. I hope we have more than these few days together. You are a wonder to me." He smiled at her, a hopeful, sad smile. "We should see to Davin and Saretta, and make sure they didn't die for nothing." He looked back towards the plume of mist that was rising at the center of the Dark. "As much as it frightens me here, the thought of what we don't know frightens me more."

"It seems strange, doesn't it? They call this place the Dark, and yet I have the impression that the world beyond this valley is where we are truly in the dark."

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Wilem

They buried Davin and Saretta together at the base of the wood, placing them side by side in a deep ditch dug out with the help of the monster's massive sword. It too was made of ircidium, and that made it light enough for Wilem to manage for the job, though he had no intention of keeping it. The size was fine for an eight foot metal man. It was unmanageable for a much smaller 'wizard'.

That was what the creature had called them. Wizards. They had seen the word before in Jeremiah's journal. He had called himself a wizard. Did that mean he had the Curse, or was there something more to it? A different kind of power, or the same power? Wilem didn't know, and couldn't guess.
 

It was clear the thing recognized them by their magic, and was able to communicate with them through it. Was it the ebocite that made it possible? Or was it that the thing was powered by magic itself? Had it been in the valley since it had been abandoned, waiting to kill any who tried to enter? An adventurer had managed to get in and take Jeremiah's journal, and nearly escape with it. Had he somehow evaded the creature? If so, how?

There were so many questions, and so few answers. As they made the trek through the line of dead trees towards the center of the Dark, they argued back and forth about what it all meant. It was a good argument, a healthy argument. In other circumstances, Wilem would have enjoyed it so much more. Even so, the comfort of the exchange only cemented his feelings.

Not only that, but Eryn had admitted to some of them herself.

The truth motivated him to keep fighting against the fear that threatened to chase him from this place. He was certain that he would do whatever he could to protect her.
 

He laughed at the thought.
 

She is the last person here who needs protection.

He had heard the voice of the metal giant. It had said she was familiar, before it lost its mind. There was something about her that it recognized, something in her that it knew.
 

"What do you think it meant, when it said 'it hides'?" Eryn asked.
 

They were halfway through the graveyard of trees. The plume of mist had continued to grow thicker and larger in front of them, proving that it was much more grand than they had originally realized. They had no indication of anything else alive with them, and his Curse had remained quiet.

"I don't know. It sounded angry, like it was upset that something was hiding from it. What puzzles me more is that it acted as if it thought it knew you, and was trying to tell you about it. Almost as if to warn you."

"I don't like the sound of that."

"I don't either. It doesn't make sense. It clearly didn't like wizards, and it wanted to keep us out of this place. Why did it pause? Who are you?"

Eryn stopped walking. "Right now, I wish I knew. I wish Silas were here."

They stood silently together, working through their thoughts.

"Maybe Silas was descended from one of the wizards who live here?" Wilem said at last. "That would make you a descendant as well. What if it knew that somehow?"

"It could be. Do you think it wanted me to help it find whatever was hiding?"

"I don't know, but if the metal man was afraid of something, I think we should do everything we can to let it stay hidden."

"I agree."

They continued walking, covering the remaining distance within a few hours. The plume of mist spewed up a hundred feet in front of them, pouring into the air without a sound, as big as the palace in Varrow and so thick that even the purple hue couldn't penetrate it.

"I don't see anything," Wilem said.
 

They had been hoping that once they grew near there would be a cave, or a door, or something obvious to signal that there was anything in the Dark besides the mist and the metal man.
 

What would
he
be trying so hard to protect if there wasn't?

Instead, there were the dead trees, the dead grass, and the fog. If Eryn hadn't been with him, he was sure he would have gone insane from the loneliness of it all.

"It must be inside," Eryn said. "Take my hand, and don't let go no matter what. We don't want to get separated."

Wilem reached out and took her right hand. She held her sword in her left.
 

"If anything attacks us, try to steer me towards it."

"Instead of running away?"

She smiled. "If we run we may get turned around and lose our sense of direction. I'm counting on you to stay facing forward. I'll protect you."

He was sure she would. He squeezed her hand, and she squeezed back. He shifted his shoulders, making sure Davin's pack was secure there. "I'm ready."

They walked forward, back into the mist. They were blind four steps later, the already dense fog growing thicker and thicker as they moved. By the twentieth step they began to struggle to breathe. By the thirtieth it felt as though they were pushing against it, like trying to walk through water.

"We can't make it," Wilem said. He tried to take a deep breath, sucking down the vapor. He felt its weight in his lungs and little else.

"We have to." Her voice croaked. There was no air for the sound to ride on.

"No. Eryn, we need to turn around. I can't breathe. There has to be another way." He clutched her hand tighter and started to turn.
 

She pulled against him. "Then we need to run for it," she said. "Get as much air as you can and hold it."

"What if we don't make it? What if we're too far away and there's nothing in front of us? We're going to die."

"We're not going to die." She sounded angry. Her fingers dug into his hand and she tugged him forward. "Get as much breath as you can."
 

Wilem sucked in the mist and spit it out as quickly as he could. He could feel the oxygen collecting and the feeling of choking recede. Eryn squeezed his hand again.

They ran.

He lost count of how many steps they took. They moved as fast as they could, arms and legs flailing, fighting to keep their hold on one another. They raced into the fog, feeling it solidify further as they moved, dragging against them and threatening to bring them to a stop.

His lungs burned, his muscles ached. All he wanted was to open his mouth and exhale, and to try to inhale again. He whole chest was on fire, and he didn't want to die.

Eryn kept going, so he kept going. He couldn't believe how long she was able to hold her breath. His eyes began to water and droop, and still they ran. The mist was trying to stop them, like phantom hands gripping at their arms and legs, but they denied it. They kept moving, kept fighting, even as the white blindness began to fade to black. Even as their bodies started to shut down.

They were near collapse when they gave one last shove through the wall of vapor, miraculously falling through. They tumbled onto the ground, laying on their stomachs and taking huge gulps of air.
 

"I'll never complain about anything else, ever again," Wilem said, once he was able to speak. "That was terrifying."

Eryn rose on her elbows next to him. "I knew you could-" Her eyes widened. "Do you see that?"

Wilem lifted his head up. He noticed now that the grass beneath him was green, and something was casting a shadow ahead of them. A shadow?

He rolled over. The bright blue sky greeted him. It was daytime.
 

"The sky," he said.
 

"No, not the sky. That."

He shifted his head so he could see what she was looking at. It wasn't hard to find, because it rose hundreds of feet into the air. A tower. A shimmering tower made of ircidium.
 

The metal reflected the light from the sky, catching it and throwing it out into the mist. They could see if diffuse as it entered the fog way up above, shooting away in rainbow colors before settling on a purple hue.
 

"Amazing," Eryn said. "The mist hides the tower, so that it can't be seen from the edges of the valley."
 

"Look, there's a door."

It was minuscule against the immense scale of the structure, a single archway defended by a pair of wooden doors.
 

"If a man made of ircidium and magic, and suffocating fog can't keep us out, I don't expect a door will give us much trouble," Eryn said.

Wilem smiled and got to his feet. He was still holding Eryn's hand, so he circled in front of her and pulled her up.

"How could you be so sure we would make it?" he asked, looking down into her big brown eyes.
 

"I made a promise," she replied. "Giving up isn't an option."

"I... I... Uh..." His heart filled with emotion and he was tempted to say it, to give voice to his feelings, but he stopped himself. She had made a promise, and he wasn't going to complicate it with his own desires.
 

I love you.

"What is it?" she asked, her eyes searching his.

I love you.

He didn't say it. He couldn't imagine telling her, and then dying and leaving her alone. Instead, he smiled sheepishly, his face turning crimson. "It's a bit embarrassing. I have to relieve myself."

She laughed and put her hand to his cheek. "I'll wait for you up ahead. Don't worry, I won't look."

Their eyes met one last time as she walked past him.
 

Was it disappointment he saw?

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Eryn

"It isn't locked," Eryn said, pushing against the door and watching it swivel open without a sound. The inside of the tower filled with sudden light.

There wasn't much to see. A stone dais extended forward past the archway and ended in a large, dark hole. On either side of the platform were plain iron slats that twisted around the shell of the tower, rising up into the high reaches of the structure, and falling down into its depths.

They made their way to the edge and looked up, but without any windows the light could only make half the journey. They looked down, and again saw nothing.

"Which way?" Wilem asked.

Eryn put her hand up and closed her eyes. "Do you feel it?" There was a pulsing in the air around them, a steady rhythm that she could feel in her soul. It reminded her of the forge, and of days spent with her father.

"I don't feel... wait." He too closed his eyes. "Yes, I feel it."

"Down," Eryn said.

That was where it was coming from. That was where they were being pulled.
 

A light appeared in Wilem's hand, small at first. It grew nearly to the size of his head, providing enough illumination for them to see the steps clearly. There were no rails, no guides. One slip would send them tumbling to their death.

They started the descent. Eryn took the lead, navigating slowly at first, but picking up speed as she became accustomed to the distance and angle between the iron beams. They spun around the tower, making their way downward, but still not finding the bottom.

They had lost sight of the entrance when they heard the first bang. It came from the depths, and echoed up the tower, sending a vibration through the iron at their feet, and shaking their courage to the core. It came again a few seconds later, and then was joined by a second.

"What is that?" Wilem asked.
 

Eryn stopped moving. "Do you think someone is alive down there?"

"I think we should check ahead, just to be sure it's safe." Wilem guided the light away from them, floating it further into the dark below. He weaved it from one side of the tower to the other, until it threatened to be absorbed by the black. Just as he started to pull it up, Eryn pointed at something.

"Do you see that?"

He followed her finger down until he found it, against the wall near the light, a dark red smear.
 

"It looks like blood."

"It looks like fresh blood," she said. "It's still moist." She looked back at him. "Bring the light back so we can go down to it."
 

Another bang shook the beam. Two more followed close after. Wilem's light floated back towards them.

"This is taking too long," Eryn said. She starting running down the steps, her feet light and agile along the iron bars.
 

Wilem hesitated for a moment, and then continued behind her.
 

They raced around the inner wall of the tower, feet treading lightly on the steps, which shook every few seconds from the pounding below. Around and around they went, Wilem's light joining them and guiding them down to the spot where they saw the blood.
 

Eryn stopped when she reached it. She leaned in close, smelling it to make sure it wasn't the strange black liquid of the ircidium man. It wasn't. It was blood, she was sure. It was smeared along the wall like whatever had left it was injured, and had bumped against it on its way down.
 

She drew her sword.
 

"I don't know if whatever left this is a friend or a foe. Be ready."
 

The banging continued, so much louder than it had been before. It vibrated the beams so strongly that her vision shook with each strike. She noticed that the strange rhythm had grown stronger too, turning into a throbbing like a heartbeat.

They continued down, circling and circling, the pounding growing in pitch and intensity. The darkness below finally began to subside, and now they could see a ring of light at the bottom of the tower, It was surrounding a large stone disc positioned in the center of the floor. There was no sign of anyone else, and no more bloody stains.