Mystic Firestorm 2 Page 4

  “A threat means nothing to me,” Slanter stated while holding his sword in the air. “This is power. Come and join us Bellower. You can be one of the most powerful chieftains in the world. Take what truly belongs to you.”

  “I choose life, Slanter,” Bellower said as the Rockdwellers pushed them away from the vault. Bellower struggled to see what was happening and he noticed that the large stone slab was rolling down. The others rushed for the door, but it had shut down completely.

  Slanter stood there with a great big laugh and raised a satchel of black gunpowder in the air.

  “You fools, we will mine our way out of this place. We'll destroy this place after we take everything.” He looked at the stone wall wondering if the others were still behind it. “You will pay for this Bellower. I will hunt you down and destroy you and your friends. Your family will become my slaves!” Slanter had a maddening gleam in his eyes and then looked at the treasure. “Finish taking everything that you can carry. I want five of you to set up a rig to blow that measly piece of stone to bits.”

  Five men went to work immediately. The others went on collecting the rest of their treasure. The bags were placed in neat piles as the Gnomes set large quantities of gunpowder at the bottom of the stone frame. The Gnomes made a streamline of powder from the back of the room. Slanter smiled with a great feeling of pleasure. He greedily achieved his goal and found the lost treasure of the Rockdwellers. The Gnomes finished securing the support beams to keep the ceiling from collapsing. It appeared that the vault was impregnable, but Slanter knew that within an hour, he would be free. A long curving trail of gunpowder streamed to the back of the room where bags of treasure were stacked. Ten men were left out of the twenty, which had initially entered the vault. Huge quantities of treasure were still lying around.

  “Hurry up, fools!” Slanter lashed out at his men as they worked to complete their task. Moments later the Gnomes heard a loud rumble above their heads which shook the entire vault.

  “Ignite the fuse,” he ordered with a reassuring tone. One of the sentries lit the fuse as a stone from the ceiling dropped down before the Gnomes. Sand streamed downward and Slanter watched as the fire slowly traveled along the floor. Moments later another block slipped from the ceiling and sand shifted down through tiny holes, showering half of the room.

  “What is happening!” Slanter screamed as he realized some type of trap had been triggered. The Gnome chieftain calmed himself down and took control of the situation. Another block dropped and the room was filling with sand. The men began to panic as Slanter watched the smoke billow from the lit gunpowder, sparks flew leaving a charred stone floor. Another rumble struck as sand fell onto the Gnomes. They scattered as the entire room continued to rain with sand. The air was taken from their lungs as the grains burned their eyes and entered into their mouths. Slanter held his position.

  In seconds, the gunpowder would ignite in front of the block, blowing it to bits and set them all free. He needed a few more moments. The other sentries ran around the room trying to get out of the falling sand. It was beginning to cover the floor. Slanter smiled as the fire came before the large blocks of black powder. Suddenly he looked above, and a stone block released, sand fell before the door and covered the gunpowder and smothered the fuse.

  “No!” Slanter screamed with rage as he ran to the door. Men collapsed in their places as sand covered them. Slanter tripped over a dead body and fell sideways. The sand pounded onto his body as he struggled to free himself. It entered his nostrils and mouth as he crumbled to the ground and screamed in terror. Fingers dug into the stone, and red bloodstains were left on the rock. He then noticed other marks that were similar, he rose pounding on the door. The others moaned and wailed in fear as the air was thick with falling sand. The sand reached up to Slanter's waist as he screamed Bellower's name out in terror. Pain erupted from his hands as they skin peeled off, leaving larger smears of wet blood. The sand pounded on his body weighing it down as he choked, darkness fell upon the room.

  The Gnomes were dying.

  Bellower, Brea and Dayven were led through a succession of large stone rooms that were lit by candles and troches. It appeared to be the very home of the Rockdwellers. They stopped for a few minutes as one of the creatures watched them suspiciously.

  They were led down a long corridor to a room that had an iron door with bars. The huge creature pointed to the door as the three captives walked into the room. The door shut behind them with a low boom and an iron key locked them in. The room was exceedingly small and had no other way out. The black stone floor was cold, and the space was depressing.

  “Great,” Bellower whispered to himself.

  “What do you suppose they want?” Brea said as she sat on the floor.

  “I don't know,” Dayven responded. He remembered being in the other cell for a long period of time. “These Rockdwellers are a strange race of creature. They don't appear to want to hurt us. They seem to be protecting something. They never speak with words.”

  “Look my major concern is getting out of here.” Bellower turned to his companions. “Slanter has sealed his own fate, but I'm not about to find out what mine is.”

  “There is no way out of here.” Brea sighed.

  “I escaped last time,” Dayven explained, “I used my power, but I don't think I have the energy to try that again.” He sat down trying to remember those events that occurred so long ago. He remembered being a prisoner in isolation. Something had happened to him, but his reasoning had blocked off all past knowledge for unknown purposes. A strange sensation grasped him as he thought back to that moment, recalling the whisperings in his mind. He took a deep breath and unsheathed the dagger. He studied it in the dim light and Bellower gave out a small laugh.

  “That little weapon is not going to help us.”

  “I was just looking at it.” The elf answered with a strange gleam in his eye.

  Bellower kneeled beside him with a tired grin. “Let me have a look.”

  “No!” Dayven snapped and pulled it away and replaced it in its sheath. Brea turned and gave him an inquiring look. The Gnome stared blankly at him and rose.

  “Forget it,” he murmured and sat back down.

  “I'm sorry,” he replied with embarrassment. “I'm only tired and have so many things on my mind. Our first priority is to get out of here.”

  “I've been thinking about these Rockdwellers,” Brea said with some optimism, “they are not a violent race. It seems like they want to be left alone. We have intruded on their home territory. None of us should have come here in the first place.”

  The room became silent and a shocking, screaming, shriek was heard echoing along the chamber. Bellower's eyes lifted and his brows knitted in tight arches. He remembered that yell. There was a loud thump on the door, and they entered as scuffling was heard outside. The struggle subsided and the iron door swung open as a body fell forward. It was a Gnome dressed in a brown uniform that was torn and soiled. Bellower broke out with a great shriek of laughter as the Gnome rose to peer upon the others.

  “You dog!” Sly charged forward and Bellower swung, knocking his chieftain to the ground. Bellower grabbed him by the collar and lifted him off the ground with one arm.

  “Try something and you die.” He dropped the body immediately and sat back down.

  “You will pay for this,” Sly vowed.

  “Enough of this,” Dayven managed.

  The Gnome chieftain strained to see through the thick darkness and then recognized they boy's frame. He looked at the Wildergirl and rose to his feet.

  “You survived so far but I promise that you will never see daylight.” The Gnome crouched, scratching his beard. He exhaled a deep breath and then crouched in the corner. Sly sat motionless remembering the terrors of the past few hours. Casually, he finally rose and looked at his three companions. “Like it or not I'm with you.”

  Bellower seized the opportunity to retrieve some information from his chieftain about the Rockdwelle
rs and a way out of the subterranean world. Sly came up with no concrete answers that could help the company out.

  “Are you sure all of your men are dead?” Bellower queried his old companion.

  “We had tracked down Slanter and his crew and we engaged in another brawl. During our fighting, those things just came out of nowhere and seized men like they were puppets. My men were tossed like helpless insects. The entire cavern was crawling with them. They clung to the walls, danced on the ceiling. One of them touched me and nearly paralyzed my entire body.” The chieftain caught his breath with some regret. “All those screams echoed throughout the caves. I ran. Ran for my life. I never stopped to see if any had followed. All I could hear were the sounds of our soldiers dying.” A bit of sadness registered on his worn face. “They are all gone,” he said in despair.

  Bellower patted his chieftain on the shoulder, his face had a deep sincere composure. The tracker understood his chieftains grief but could not forgive him.

  “What are we to do?” Sly said worriedly.

  “Both of us are equally guilty of treason. We have lost our homeland, our King and our status. We will be brought before the council and judged. We must live up to our mistake.”

  “You go back,” Sly said furiously. “I will not be judged.” He scratched his beard and his pale brown eyes reflected the cold, dark feeling of their cell. “Slanter will pay dearly for this.”

  “He has already,” Brea added.

  “He's dead.” Bellower mouthed.

  “How?” Sly looked up in a feeling of satisfaction.

  “He found the treasure and was sealed in the vault.”

  “Slanter will blast his way out.”

  “I don't think so,” Bellower continued as he heard the faint footsteps of the Rockdwellers approach the room. The prisoners held their breath, but the cell did not open, and noises passed away.

  Dayven, Brea, Bellower and Sly were led up a flight of stone stairs. A huge Rockdweller guided them up without a word. Bellower shoved Sly in anger as the chieftain fell on the stone steps.

  “I have grown to hate you these past days,” Bellower stated as he pulled the chieftain's brown tunic.

  “Stop it!” Brea yelled as the Rockdweller halted behind them.

  “Enough is enough!” Dayven pushed Bellower against the stone wall.

  “We have been traveling for days, Dayven,” Bellower lashed out in sheer anger. “We have eaten disgusting rations, been thrown in jail cells and led through hundreds of caverns. So, I ask you, when will it end?” He faced the Rockdweller and pointed his finger in a harsh manner. “Where are you taking us? What do you want?” The creature just stared at him through a dark cowl, his face featureless to the others.

  “You must continue to stay calm,” Dayven pleaded.

  “They are probably leading us out of here,” Brea added.

  “Fighting me will not save yourself, Bellower.” Sly rose brushing off his leggings.

  “I cannot take this much longer. I cannot continue,” Bellower slumped against the wall.

  “You are a Tracker. You have been trained to defeat the most powerful enemies. You have trained to live in the most horrible predicaments. Do not forget that!” Sly turned away from him and continued to go up the stairs.

  “I was not trained to live without light! To live in caverns the rest of my life!”

  Suddenly the Rockdweller shoved Bellower. The Tracker was flung up the stairs and hit the ground with a thump. He turned back as the creature motioned them to continue their journey.

  Brea paused at the base of the staircase as the others followed her lead. The continuous climbing stole her breath and she sat on the steps. The Rockdweller dug beneath its massive cape and pulled out a strapped leather skin. Brea drank the sweet water and felt a surge of energy stem through her body. She salvaged her fleeting thoughts and got up with a new outlook. The creature gave each one of them a sip of the water. Moments later, the company felt renewal, a sense of life as well as security.

  “Remarkable!” Bellower felt different and lightheaded.

  “The water seems to take away all the negative thoughts and replace them with a renewal of strength, will and determination.” Brea finished with a vibrant demeanor.

  “With a resurrection of trust and faith, they continued on.

  Endless hours of travel had finally brought them to their destiny. The Rockdweller opened up a secret passageway and daylight burned their eyes. A cool wisp of air filtered into the dull, musty cavern air bringing a rebirth to the outside world. Dayven stepped out into the brilliant midday light while Bellower, Sly and Brea followed. The autumn day was cool but refreshing. Brea sighed as she surveyed the vast of wood trees and beautiful snowcapped mountains.

  “Thank you.”

  Brea and the others turned to find that the secret passageway entrance was gone. The creature that had led them through the endless underground maze was also gone, vanished seconds after their freedom, closing them off from a different world. Sly sat on an old wooden stump and breathed in cool air with exhilaration. Bellower felt watched the golden sunlight stream off the green leaves. Different colors of bright reds, yellows and oranges were soothing to their eyes. The land’s fragrance of autumn added a different flavor to life. There were no words said as Brea built a fire and the three companions went hunting. Approximately an hour later they came back with rabbit and a few wild hens. Brea skinned the creatures and cooked the meats. They drank fresh water that appeared to run down a small stream toward what appeared to be the Southlands. After the meal had been happily consumed, they ate quietly and reflected the past day’s events and those things yet to come. Brea had not spoken much about her future plan, but the Southlander knew what was in her heart. He decided to wait and question her when they had some free time alone to speak about the many things that had been on his mind since his capture. Sly and Bellower looked at each other with contempt and hatred. Neither one trusted the other, which made no difference anyway because they were going to go their own separate ways.

  “Where are we?” Sly murmured along with the humming of birds.

  “At the base of Craggy Mountains,” the Gnome Tracker snorted to the chieftain.

  “Three days from home,” Brea's words fell from her mouth.

  “A few days to the Snap,” Sly said solemnly.

  “Regrets?” Bellower chided.

  “All my men lost on that confounded bridge. I blame that on you Southlander,” Sly spat.

  “You know that’s not true.” Bellower returned a harsh gaze that went through the other. “It was our greed that nearly destroyed us. Slanter and his men wouldn't listen to reason. They had a decision to make life or death. They chose the latter,” his voice died away in bitter thought.

  “It is time that we rested,” Brea said watching the clouds overtake the sun.

  “I'll agree to that,” Dayven added.

  “Wildergirl where will you go?” Bellower leaned back against an oak and closed his eyes.

  “Home. It has been too long. We have failed in our job to find any of the Mystics.

  “Sly's face blackened at the thought of the mysterious men in the dark robes. He had not heard about them for a while. Then a strange thought struck him hard and he bit his lip.

  “Who do you seek?”

  “One that may help us,” Dayven returned in a nearly hushed voice.

  “Allenor?” Sly's unperfected answer shocked them.

  “Who is Allenor?” Dayven breathed deeply.

  “A confounded evil Mystic!” Sly turned his, hardened face away.

  “Where is he?” Brea bent over the small flickering fire, the orange tree leaves reflecting on her face.

  “Ha, you will not have that from me!” Sly rose his stocky body, and Bellower registered a cold cutting stare.

  “You know,” Bellower got up grabbing his knife. “I have had enough of that tongue of yours. They need your help.”

  “Ha!” Sly said with an insidious co
ntempt.

  “I suggest you tell them something of this Mystic,” he sounded pertinacious, “or my friend will resort to using his dark magic to pull the information from you.”

  “Sly's face pulled back in fear, his arms coiled around each other. The elf stepped forward and a spark light danced off his palm as Sly cringed in fear.

  “Allenor,” Sly did not hesitate. “A few weeks ago, he sought passage through the Snap. He was heading into the Westlands, possibly south.”

  “What was he looking for?” Dayven’s interest flared up with a tinge of hope.

  “I didn't stop to ask,” Sly huffed.

  “Was someone with him?” The elf questioned him taking a step toward him. “Another man?”

  “No.” Sly explained flatly. “He only stopped us for a moment.” He scratched his beard and rubbed his temple with his creased forefinger. “In fact, there was one thing. He wanted to know about the Shadow Mountains.” Sly took a breath as Bellower listened undisturbed by the cold thrash of wind and leaves. “He asked about a pass, but I didn't know anything about it.”

  Bellowers face plunged into shock. “The Fang!” Bellower exclaimed. “That is the only pass through the Shadow Mountains into the Lost Lands. It bypasses the Sleigh Mish and Forevergreen.” The tracker pointed out.

  “I care nothing for those cloaked demons. It was then that caused the previous wars. Men and magic! Ha!” Sly stepped away.

  Bellower saw the gleam in Dayven’s eyes. He turned his head solemnly away. The Gnome tracker sensed something unfolding in the elf's mind. Bellower went to inquire, and the Southlander turned away. “What’s wrong with him?”

  “He searches for a friend,” Brea said while stretching out her legs. “It is time that I go and speak with him. Excuse me.” She blissfully rose and faded among the pines and oaks.

  Dayven examined the immaculate skyline of Craggy, it's snow-covered peaks reached out like tiny fingers of gray stone. The magnificence of the blue sky brightened the dim colors in a collage of reds and yellows. The smell of wildflowers and leaves permeated the autumn day with a brooding silence of winter ahead. Brea ambled her way over with a bit of nonchalance and witnessed the wonderful colors of the season.