Dryad-Born
Page 107
In the walls, Nizeera thought with a low growl. I could sense them but not understand what it was. They began to enter soon after the Rike perished.
Annon thought a moment. “Nizeera says they were hiding in the walls. Obviously there are other chambers here. They must be fed somehow. Something keeps them at bay—” The thought bloomed in his mind, the distinct memory. “Of course! The Rike wearing the torc! He was the leader, I think. The torc repels creatures. It kept Nizeera from attacking him. It keeps all creatures at bay.” A surge of hope and joy sprung into his senses, causing a thrilling wave. “Yes! I remember hearing Tyrus talk about the creatures of the Scourgelands. They are terrible to face, quite vicious. That torc repels them. This allows the Arch-Rike or whoever he sends to enter the Scourgelands unharmed. It also keeps the serpents from entering the room. Once he died, its power failed—”
“The serpents were no longer barred from coming in,” Khiara finished. “He said we were going to die. He knew the snakes would come and bite us.”
“The doors leading back the way we came are locked from the outside,” Annon said. “They were barred. The only way forward is to enter the Scourgelands.”
Annon’s upper lip was salty with sweat. He glanced around the dimly-lit chamber. This entire place was a deception. It was also a gateway. He understood why the Arch-Rike had guarded it so carefully. There were secrets here that he could not figure out. The Rike had mentioned that he thought they were seeking Poisonwell. Annon did not know what that meant, but logic told him it probably had something to do with the Plague. Each sarcophagus was chiseled with the herald and name of one of the kingdoms surrounding Kenatos. Erasmus had figured out what they all meant. But he had died before he could explain himself.
“Annon?” Khiara asked.
“Sorry, I was thinking,” he replied. “We need to get that torc somehow. It is important. It may be crucial. Nizeera, can you jump to another bier? Maybe you can distract them and have them follow you away from us. If you can clear the ground here a moment, I might be able to get the torc.”
“The biers are not very close together,” Khiara said. “If she missed, she would land in the middle of them. Let me do this. If I shove away from you, I can drift to the other side of the chamber.”
“Be careful, Khiara.”
Nizeera growled. I can make the jump.
Let her try, Annon thought in response. Please, Nizeera. Trust me.
I have failed you.
He grit his teeth, feeling the blackness of her feelings. You are helpless against these forces. It is not your fault. Courage, Nizeera. You will aid me in the Scourgelands. We must survive this first.
The growl in reply was sullen, but did not argue.
Khiara pushed off from Annon’s shoulder and floated away from him. Using her staff like a ferry pole, she maneuvered away from a nearby column and then came to land on a carved sarcophagus lid. She straightened, setting her balance. Then she swished the staff around in a broad circle, again and again. The serpents hissed and converged on her, slithering in haste to reach her. A broad smile passed on Annon’s mouth. Many of the serpents went over his boots and around him to reach her. There were still too many nearby to risk moving.
“They followed me,” Khiara said. “I will go farther.”
“Be careful,” Annon pleaded. His knees and ankles were restless.
With another gulp of air, he watched her lift off and soar across the chamber to another bier, even farther away. When she landed there, she began circling the staff again, in long broad sweeps. The serpents attacked again, slithering straight toward her with ferocity. The floor by Annon was nearly bereft of the creatures. He waited, watching them writhe toward her, as if hypnotized by her gleaming pale staff. She stopped suddenly, bewildering the serpents and then leapt again, moving to the next stone lid.
There were only three serpents nearby, all three of them investigating Erasmus’s body. Annon stared at them, willing them to follow their brethren away. Khiara began sweeping her staff in circles again, drawing the snakes to the farthest portion of the chamber. He could make her out in the dim light, but only barely. The three serpents were not following the others. In his mind, he summoned the words to tame fire and then brought a small orb of blue flames into his hand. He stared at the pulsing colors and then noticed all three serpents had stopped and were staring at him. He released it, tossing it over them and watching as it rolled across the stone like a magical ball. The three serpents hovering around Erasmus rushed at it, hissing and striking at the flames, though each was unhurt by it.
Annon thought a moment. “Nizeera says they were hiding in the walls. Obviously there are other chambers here. They must be fed somehow. Something keeps them at bay—” The thought bloomed in his mind, the distinct memory. “Of course! The Rike wearing the torc! He was the leader, I think. The torc repels creatures. It kept Nizeera from attacking him. It keeps all creatures at bay.” A surge of hope and joy sprung into his senses, causing a thrilling wave. “Yes! I remember hearing Tyrus talk about the creatures of the Scourgelands. They are terrible to face, quite vicious. That torc repels them. This allows the Arch-Rike or whoever he sends to enter the Scourgelands unharmed. It also keeps the serpents from entering the room. Once he died, its power failed—”
“The serpents were no longer barred from coming in,” Khiara finished. “He said we were going to die. He knew the snakes would come and bite us.”
“The doors leading back the way we came are locked from the outside,” Annon said. “They were barred. The only way forward is to enter the Scourgelands.”
Annon’s upper lip was salty with sweat. He glanced around the dimly-lit chamber. This entire place was a deception. It was also a gateway. He understood why the Arch-Rike had guarded it so carefully. There were secrets here that he could not figure out. The Rike had mentioned that he thought they were seeking Poisonwell. Annon did not know what that meant, but logic told him it probably had something to do with the Plague. Each sarcophagus was chiseled with the herald and name of one of the kingdoms surrounding Kenatos. Erasmus had figured out what they all meant. But he had died before he could explain himself.
“Annon?” Khiara asked.
“Sorry, I was thinking,” he replied. “We need to get that torc somehow. It is important. It may be crucial. Nizeera, can you jump to another bier? Maybe you can distract them and have them follow you away from us. If you can clear the ground here a moment, I might be able to get the torc.”
“The biers are not very close together,” Khiara said. “If she missed, she would land in the middle of them. Let me do this. If I shove away from you, I can drift to the other side of the chamber.”
“Be careful, Khiara.”
Nizeera growled. I can make the jump.
Let her try, Annon thought in response. Please, Nizeera. Trust me.
I have failed you.
He grit his teeth, feeling the blackness of her feelings. You are helpless against these forces. It is not your fault. Courage, Nizeera. You will aid me in the Scourgelands. We must survive this first.
The growl in reply was sullen, but did not argue.
Khiara pushed off from Annon’s shoulder and floated away from him. Using her staff like a ferry pole, she maneuvered away from a nearby column and then came to land on a carved sarcophagus lid. She straightened, setting her balance. Then she swished the staff around in a broad circle, again and again. The serpents hissed and converged on her, slithering in haste to reach her. A broad smile passed on Annon’s mouth. Many of the serpents went over his boots and around him to reach her. There were still too many nearby to risk moving.
“They followed me,” Khiara said. “I will go farther.”
“Be careful,” Annon pleaded. His knees and ankles were restless.
With another gulp of air, he watched her lift off and soar across the chamber to another bier, even farther away. When she landed there, she began circling the staff again, in long broad sweeps. The serpents attacked again, slithering straight toward her with ferocity. The floor by Annon was nearly bereft of the creatures. He waited, watching them writhe toward her, as if hypnotized by her gleaming pale staff. She stopped suddenly, bewildering the serpents and then leapt again, moving to the next stone lid.
There were only three serpents nearby, all three of them investigating Erasmus’s body. Annon stared at them, willing them to follow their brethren away. Khiara began sweeping her staff in circles again, drawing the snakes to the farthest portion of the chamber. He could make her out in the dim light, but only barely. The three serpents were not following the others. In his mind, he summoned the words to tame fire and then brought a small orb of blue flames into his hand. He stared at the pulsing colors and then noticed all three serpents had stopped and were staring at him. He released it, tossing it over them and watching as it rolled across the stone like a magical ball. The three serpents hovering around Erasmus rushed at it, hissing and striking at the flames, though each was unhurt by it.
