The Reborn King (Book Six) (15 page)

“There should be a pass somewhere,” Felsafell replied. His eyes scanned the mountains, trying to determine which direction they should take. After a few minutes, he grunted and set off northwest at a quick pace.

“Do you know where we’re going?” asked Gewey.

“No,” he replied. “But it
seems
right. I cannot explain it. I just have a feeling that this is the way we need to go.” He pointed ahead.

As close as the mountains appeared to be, Gewey soon discovered that this was merely an illusion. After pushing on for the entire day, they had still not reached them. By now, the temperature was dropping fast, so they decided it best to build a fire and continue in the morning.

The sounds that came from out of the mountains that night were like nothing Gewey had heard before. Strange unearthly growling was accompanied by distant, unintelligible whispers. Nehrutu was also unnerved, but Felsafell seemed completely at ease.

“Are you sure you’ve never been here before?” Gewey asked.

“Quite sure,” he replied. “As I said, my people feared this place.”

“You don’t seem to be afraid at all.”

Felsafell leaned back on his elbows and smiled. “After living so long, the things that frighten me have changed. These days, the unknown excites me.”

“I wish I felt the same,” muttered Gewey. He stared up at the mountains and shivered. There was something about them. Something that was telling him very clearly to stay away.

They reached the base by mid-afternoon, by which time the wind was whipping in from the east, chilling them to the bone. The sheer rock formations of the many mountainsides towered above them like an army of impenetrable behemoths. Felsafell paused, his eyes fixed unblinkingly on the masses of jagged grey stone for several minutes. Then, a tiny smile turned up the corners of his mouth.

“Clever,” he muttered, almost inaudibly. “Very clever.”

Before either Gewey or Nehrutu could ask what he meant by this, he strode forward. The others tried to follow, but in an instant Felsafell dropped out of sight, as if the ground had simply opened up beneath him.

They ran to the spot where they had last seen him, only just stopping in time to prevent themselves from falling into a narrow trench carved ten feet deep into the earth. At the bottom of this stood Felsafell, unhurt and laughing. The trench, though invisible until almost alongside it, extended to an archway set into the mountainside.

“This was well thought,” Felsafell said. He gestured for them both to jump down.

Gewey landed with a grunt. Nehrutu was just behind him.

“Whoever made this was determined that only a few could find it,” Felsafell told them.

Gewey recalled his dream of being compelled to enter the mountain. Anxiety gripped him. “I wonder if they’re still here
.”

“We will not find out by standing still,” said Nehrutu.

As they approached the archway, a blast of hot air shot out from the darkness. Gewey was reminded about the legends of the fire lizards.
Stories
, he told himself.
Nothing but stories
.

With the entrance only wide enough for them to walk along in single file, Felsafell took the lead.  Gewey followed close behind him.

A moldy stench hung in the air, and Gewey was now finding that his godlike vision was insufficient to penetrate the suffocating darkness. Knowing that there was little the Dark Knight could do to stop him at this point, even if his enemy did locate him, he reached out for the
flow
. But there was nothing there.

He halted. “Something is wrong. The
flow
…it doesn’t exist here.”

Nehrutu tried as well, and met with the same result.

“Then let us hope we will have no need of your powers,” said Felsafell.

Taking a deep breath, Gewey gripped the hilt of his sword. Earlier in their journey he had felt exposed and vulnerable when
forced to fight with only his natural strength. Now he faced dangers unseen even by the likes of Felsafell. Previously, he could have chosen to fall back on his powers had the situation grown truly desperate...but that was no longer an option. However, there was no time to dwell on such thoughts, and it was far too late to turn back. He glanced behind at Nehrutu. The elf was obviously upset. “Are you able to go on?” he asked.

Nehrutu straightened his back. “Of course. Forgive me. I have never been cut off like this before. It feels…unnatural. It is hard to imagine how the desert elves live
like this.”

“They live quite happily, from what I can tell,” remarked Felsafell.

The three of them moved on, Gewey staying close to Felsafell’s back, his vision still not able to adjust even after more than ten minutes in the darkness.

The way ahead was narrow, yet high enough for Felsafell to walk without bending. Though clearly not a natural tunnel but one carved by hand, it sloped up and down, twisting and turning without apparent rhyme or reason.

After an hour or so, the passage widened sufficiently for them to walk abreast had they wished to. Nevertheless, Gewey and Nehrutu still chose to keep a step behind the
first born,
who seemed to be experiencing no problems at all in navigating the pitch blackness.

Several times they came to a fork, but Felsafell didn’t hesitate in his choice of which direction to take. It was as if he were walking a familiar path. Gewey guessed it must be close to midday by now, so he retrieved a few strips of jerky and distributed them equally.

“How long until we are outside again?” asked Nehrutu. The tension in his voice was obvious.

“I don’t know,” Felsafell replied. “I feel very much as if I have been here before, though in truth, I know I have not.”

“Could you have forgotten?” Gewey asked.

He huffed a laugh. “Could
you
forget this place?”

Gewey reached out until his fingers made contact with the rough walls.
No. This place was wholly unforgettable.
Even as this thought was entering his mind, a sharp hiss cut through the stale air.

The trio froze for an instant, then quickly drew their weapons. The passage was broad enough for swords, but maneuvering would still be a challenge. Ahead was another fork, but Gewey could not tell which one the sound was coming from.

Another menacing hiss was followed by harsh scraping and shuffling noises.

“Be ready,” whispered Felsafell.

They waited, tense and motionless, for several minutes, but no more threatening sounds followed. Gewey could hear only the barely audible breathing of his companions and the rapid beating of his own heart.

“What the hell was that?” he eventually asked. Though he tried to speak softly, the echo made it sound as if he had shouted. This brought a harsh stare from Felsafell.

The
first born
took a cautious step forward, gesturing for the others to follow him. After several yards they took the right hand fork, then stopped and listened.

Only a few seconds later the hissing returned. But this time it was coming at them from both ahead and behind. It was also increasing in volume.

“The two of you watch our flank,” ordered Felsafell. “And give me a dagger.”

After handing Felsafell the weapon he asked for, Gewey quickly took up position shoulder to shoulder with Nehrutu. Both of them held blades at the ready, although given the corridor's restricted width, they were not going to have room for anything more than short, straight thrusts.

Gewey soon spotted the silhouette of a four-legged creature approaching. It stood about as high as a large dog, though was twice as broad and had a long slender neck. Its movements were smooth, as if it were gliding along rather than walking. Only the scraping of talons hinted of any contact with the ground.

As it drew nearer, he could see that it was reptilian, though unlike any lizard he’d ever come across before. Its scales were pitch black, and saliva dripped menacingly from the corners of its mouth. Gewey looked over his shoulder just in time to see an identical creature making its way toward Felsafell.

Again the stories of his youth flashed through his mind. “Fire lizards,” he muttered.

It burst forward with astonishing speed when only a few feet away, yellow eyes fixed evilly on its prey. Gewey and Nehrutu reacted instantly by stabbing hard at its neck and body, but it was like trying to punch a hole through a lump of solid steel. Both of their blades came to an arm-juddering stop, unable to penetrate even a small way into the scaly hide. The sudden reversed force of their joint strikes rocked them back, and the beast's jaws gaped open to reveal twin rows of two-inch long, dagger-like teeth.

Seeing an opportunity, it snapped at Nehrutu’s right calf. He shifted to one side just in time, at the same moment thrusting his sword down with all of his strength. Gewey did the same. Yet again Nehrutu’s blade was deflected, but Gewey’s second attempt did somehow manage to penetrate slightly – though the wound was only superficial and less than one inch deep. Even so, it was enough to get the lizard’s attention. Swinging angrily around, its clawed foot took a swipe at Gewey's midsection.

The sharp talons sliced through his shirt, opening up a shallow, three-inch long gash just above his waist. Jumping back, Gewey struck again and again, but his backward momentum was now taking too much of the force away from his blows. Each time, his blade bounced harmlessly off the heavily armored hide.

The creature bit and clawed ferociously at Gewey, relentlessly forcing him further to the rear until finally, he felt his back bump hard up against the jagged wall. With no room left to maneuver and the lizard poised to make its devastating strike, the ominous warning about these mountains whispered to him in his dream came rushing back.

“Don’t go there. You will not return.”

Was the dream now only a heartbeat away from becoming reality?

Though staring rigidly into his would-be killer's glittering eyes, Gewey still caught a glimpse of Nehrutu jumping across the beast's back and then reaching down to grab it by the tail. Letting out a loud grunt, the elf gave a colossal heave. It was an incredibly brave action, and one that unquestionably saved Gewey's life. With a loud hiss of anger, the reptile swung around, its anger now directed once again on Nehrutu. In a single flash of movement, its jaws clamped over the elf’s sword arm. His agonized cry reverberated throughout the tunnel as the sharp teeth sank in.

But clearly the lizard had not forgotten or forgiven the person who had inflicted the wound on it. Instead of retaining its hold on its victim and going for the kill, it at once returned its attention to Gewey.  A mercifully released Nehrutu staggered backwards, clutching at his wound. His blade fell from pain-numbed fingers to the ground.

But by now, the elf's actions had given Gewey the vital seconds to move left and away from the wall. He thrust out in a renewed attack, using every last bit of strength at his disposal. And this time, thanks to his returned forward momentum, his steel once again forced a way through the reptile’s hide and into the flesh just behind its head. It snapped and flailed in response, but Gewey was not about to let it get loose now. With a primal yell, he pushed down again. With a rush of savage satisfaction, he felt the blade sinking in much deeper. But then the unexpected happened. The lizard dropped and rolled sharply to one side, ripping the sword clean away from Gewey’s grasp.

Hissing and spitting, it shook its head wildly until it had worked the embedded blade loose. One final shake jerked it free completely. The weapon flew through the air, landing several yards away with a loud clatter somewhere in the inky darkness. Gewey could see Nehrutu’s sword still lying on the ground, but the creature was blocking his path. Blood was gushing from its neck, but the wound did not appear to be slowing it down at all.

Gewey feigned left and then right, hoping to throw it off-balance but it matched his movements easily. Fear gripped him as the beast lurched forward, teeth bared. In a desperate attempt to avoid the attack, he threw himself to the right and rolled. He was not quick enough. Pain shot through his leg as a lunging claw raked through both his pants and flesh. He managed to grab the creature's long snout with both hands just as it landed on top of him, but the surface was slippery from all the blood that had been flying around. Gewey knew that it would shake itself free in just a matter of moments.

He kicked upward into the beast’s chest, hoping to lift it over onto its back. But it twisted its muscular frame with amazing agility, whipping its tail to compensate. This left Gewey in an even worse position than before. Now it was to his left and only a gasp away from wrenching its jaws free.

Just as his despairing fingers lost their hold, the great lizard jerked convulsively, then went rigid, its hate-filled eyes still fixed firmly on him. It took a few seconds for Gewey to realize that Felsafell was standing directly behind it, Nehrutu’s sword in one hand, and his own dagger in the other. The sword had been rammed all the way through the beast's back, with the tip now protruding several inches from its gullet.

There was a brief moment of dead calm, during which Felsafell's aspect remained twisted into a vicious snarl. He then yanked the blade free. The lizard slumped down, still twitching in its final death throes.