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Sapphire of Souls Page 6
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"Tell him, Daddy," Suclair squealed when the demon relaxed his grip.
"No," Debain yelled, fighting with all he had left. "Forgive me, Sue, I cannot."
"Please! Please, Daddy." Her voice was again cut off by Pharark's jerking grip. His black-nailed hand slid over her bald held like he was palming a melon. Suclair looked up, rolling her eyes from left to right, trying to see what was happening to her. His fingers arched and the pointed tips of his blackened nails dug into her scalp. Four rivulets of blood dripped quickly down her face, and she let out a heart-wrenching whimper.
"Puh-puh-puh-please, tell him, Daddy." The demon's fingers dug deeper.
"Tell me what I want to know, old man, or this will only be the beginning of your daughter's pain. Before Debain could blurt out an answer to the demon's question, Pharark pulled backwards, peeling the flesh from the top of Suclair's skull with a wet, bloody yank.
The only thing louder than the girl's scream was Debain blurting out the answers to Pharark's questions and more.
Chapter Seven
The chill air had teeth. The leaves were turning. Dark yellows, light browns, and the occasional bright orange-red speckled the trees. The group had passed some natural barrier for the thorny shrubs and vines became almost nonexistent, and the wicked blood thorn trees were fewer and farther between. As with the prickly bushes and vines, the undergrowth had thinned quite a bit, though the trees were still as thick as thieves.
The strange, blue-leafed plants that were swarmed with the bright yellow flies were more frequent and seemed to be a problem for the dwarves. Somehow, either Darblin or Big H managed to get close enough to them to get the sticky leaves in their hair or their beards. Now some of the flies swarmed around their heads while they marched on, causing them to occasionally go into fits of erratic swatting and cursing.
No one could figure out why they couldn't just go around these particular plants and when the dwarves were asked about it they became angry.
Two days after Suclair told Vinston-Fret that she felt the stone's magic, they came to the edge of a lake. This stymied Vinston-Fret because his father's notes said nothing about a body of water. Still, Suclair felt the magic radiating strongly from across its glassy surface. The water was so still that they could see the sky reflected perfectly on it, and after long deliberation, they decided, since they could see the forest on the other side of the expanse, they would skirt its bank rather than try and build a raft to cross it directly.
Braxton assured them he could build a raft they could use. He and his childhood friend Davvy had built several in their youth, and making one that would get the whole group across the lake wouldn't be a problem. In fact, one of the rafts they'd built was still propped against Davvy's barn and still usable to this day. He didn't argue about it long though. The others, save for Cryelos, agreed that they'd had enough trouble on the water already.
Then Braxton and Cryelos offered to go on a raft together, arguing they could scout the area on the other side while the others hiked around the water's edge. This way, when they met up again, valuable time would've been saved. For numerous reasons, this idea was discarded, but Vinston-Fret only voiced two of them. Firstly, the group would not separate, no matter what. Secondly, without Suclair's ability to feel the stone's magic, a search of the other side by Braxton and Cryelos would be pointless.
Reluctantly, they conceded, agreeing boredom, more than anything, fueled their desire to take such a risk.
Since Suclair's feeling was the stone was straight across and more to the left than to the right, they turned left, or due west, at the water's edge and continued.
Being so close to the cool, fresh reservoir had many advantages and disadvantages. There were more insects here, but the air was fresher, and the open space allowed them to see the sky, and feel the breeze.
Their camp was made at the water's edge. They filled their skins and the dwarves were able to wash the sticky goo out of their hair and beards in hopes that the growing cloud of yellow insects that trailed them might disperse. As the small red moon, and then the larger yellow one, slowly rose, the others took turns washing. Nixy and Suclair were the last ones to bathe, and while they did, some large scaly thing swam between Nixy’s legs, causing her and Suclair both to swear they’d not enter the water again.
The biggest disadvantage of being so close to the lake they learned the next morning, while breaking camp, in the pink light of dawn.
Vinston-Fret led them right past the first one, but the second shrieked out a loud ear-piercing warning, and the whole shore came alive with large, leathery beating wings. The group was startled, and somewhat scattered, everyone taking up defensive positions or ducking into a crouch. What appeared to be an area covered with boulders and smaller rocks lying along the shoreline turned out to be the resting place for a large flock of creatures, huddling under their gray and black colored wings. Their bodies were rat-like, and they ranged in size from of a sparrow to a fully-grown man. They had long, slithery tails and furry bodies. Their beady eyes were bright red, and their teeth looked like needles.
There were hundreds of them, and after they all exploded from their resting place, some of the larger ones circled back. Whether it was to attack or just to investigate, no one knew, but every single member of the group had a weapon ready, save for Suclair who ran into the forest screaming.
Braxton reached into the void and started to change to his familiar form, but stopped himself when he had the thought of being out-flown and crunched in the mouth of one of the hundreds of flying rodents. Instead, he hurriedly strung his bow. Darblin, Big H, and Nixy took up defensive stances with their handheld weapons in front of the two elves, who were already letting arrows fly. The creature that seemed to be leading the others was shafted, and it went tumbling into the water with a huge splash. Another elven arrow caused the next creature to divert its course and circle away. Still, a seemingly endless stream of the creatures dove toward them.
The creature that crashed in the water beat its wing frantically but couldn't seem to lift back into the air. Braxton watched as a mountainous splash erupted and a red scaled mouth snapped shut over the thing. Whatever ate the creature disappeared back into the depths, leaving nothing but empty space and a growing circle of wavering ripples. Braxton was suddenly glad Vinston-Fret hadn't let him and Cryelos cross in a raft.
Another of the larger creatures was getting close to the group. "Look out," Braxton yelled as he loosed his first arrow. He didn't look to see if they responded or if he'd hit his mark. He drew another arrow instead, and let it fly. Following this one with his eyes, he saw that it missed, but the first one had struck true. The creature crashed into the group, sending Big H, Nixy, and Vinston-Fret sprawling. Cryelos and Darblin weren't so lucky. They were swept into the trees with a loud, smacking crunch of bones and wood. Braxton was sure they'd been crushed beneath it.
There was no time to help them. Several more of the things were already swooping down at the others. Braxton was about to loose at one coming dangerously close to Big H, but was snatched off of the ground from behind.
His shoulders screamed with pain as vice-like claws dug right through his protective wear into his skin. He was lifted into the air, but then felt himself tumbling heels-over-head only to splash into the water a good distance from the shore. Images of the thing that just swallowed the flying rat filled his head, and he panicked. He thrashed desperately, trying to swim to shore. The thought that it was right below him with its mouth open wide wouldn't leave him. Then he felt the water around him surge, and he was washed easily ten paces forward. In his heart, he knew the end was coming.
A moment later, he found that where he was now, the water was only chest deep. Once his feet were firmly planted on the bottom, the idea of the giant creature getting under him disappeared. When his panic subsided, he took in the scene on shore.
Darblin had let go of his axe and curled into a ball. He was spared from being crushed by the crashing beast on
ly because he’d rolled between the two trees that stopped the creature's momentum. He did, however, turn right into another tree and only stopped when his face removed a sizable chunk of bark from its trunk. He was able to find his feet, though, and went about, trying to free Cryelos while fighting to ignore the pain.
One of the creatures tried to claw Big H's face. The dwarf somehow snatched it right out of the air. He beat at it with his bare fist while it fluttered and flapped, still trying to bite him.
Nixy stood over Vinston-Fret's still body, swinging her sword wildly about, and was doing a fair job of keeping them from getting to him or her.
"Get into the trees," Braxton pointed and screamed across the water. "They can't get you if you're in the trees."
Braxton saw Nixy's eyes find him. She nearly dropped her sword on the elf she was protecting, but a moment later, she had him by the shoulders and was dragging him backwards into the tree line. Big H batted the creature away and ran to her side, and soon the three of them disappeared into the relative safety of the tree line.
Braxton realized he was still in danger when he felt something rub against his hip underwater. Whatever it was continued to do so for a very long time as it slithered or swam past him. He saw it through the water and realized it was a really big snake. Big enough to swallow him whole. Luckily, this time, he didn't panic. Instead, he closed his eyes and sought the power of the jewel in the void.
Nixy watched on in horror as the surface both in front of and behind Braxton rippled in a sinuous line. She looked to Big H, but he was helping Darblin free Cryelos from underneath the creature that had pinned him. Her heart told her to keep an eye on Braxton, but when she saw the wounds Cryelos had taken, she couldn't stop herself from helping the dwarves.
What first appeared to be a mortal gash across Cryelos' stomach turned out to be a torn piece of the creature's flesh. Darblin gave a sigh of relief and collapsed by his elven friend. Then Nixy and the others were scared witless by a horrible, glossy red-faced thing that came out of the woods charging at them crazily.
When it fell into a heap at their feet and they saw the robe it was wearing, they realized it was Suclair.
Finding the jewel in the void came easily to Braxton. He was pleased that all his practice paid off. Once he was there, though, he wasn't sure what to do. The flock of flying rodents was still circling above, and he was somewhat sure their fear of the giant snake that was even now coiling around him was keeping them from attacking him. He decided to try something he'd read about in the journal, but the snake broke the surface of the water behind him just as he did.
Nixy called out in teary eyed fright. The massive red viper curling around Braxton exploded from the surface of the lake. All she could see was the top of his shoulders and his head. His eyes were closed so she knew he didn't see her when she stood and ran toward him, screaming his name. He couldn’t see the fangs about to impale him from behind. It didn't matter. The snake struck, and his head plunked under the surface with hardly a ripple. The snake's scaly side broke the water with a small splash, then it disappeared into a dark red stain that slowly spread across the settling water.
Big H caught her by her sword belt and dragged her kicking and sobbing back into the trees just before one of the flying rats got ahold of her. She fell into a heap and tried her best to gather herself, but it wasn’t easy.
It took a little while, but Cryelos tended the others one at a time.
Big H had a pretty deep rip across his face and another on his shoulder where the thing he'd grappled with clawed him. One of his legs was already turning purple where his hammer had smacked his own thigh while he was fighting.
Both Darblin and Suclair had nasty gashes on their heads where they'd run into trees, but they both were conscious and neither of them had a broken skull. Of the group, Nixy was the only one who wasn't injured, but she seemed to be in more pain than any of them. She gasped and sobbed loudly, calling for Braxton to no avail. Between her fits of sorrow, she stared out across the water from the tree line, hoping beyond hope to see him, but all she saw was a dark crimson stain. As time wore on, it became clear that Braxton had been eaten or drowned for the water's surface remained glassy smooth and bloody red.
There was no sign of him.
Chapter Eight
Krookin Bloodthorn had been waiting in his forest chamber on his thorny throne for almost two days. He was too scared to leave, but now too angry to sit still. He rose and paced back and forth between the two flaming sap pits dug on either side of his throne. Seeing them angered him even more because they’d been made so that his seat of power would look more like Pharak’s otherworldly bone-pile chamber.
Not one, but two more of the bands he'd sent searching for Pharark's cursed sapphire reported finding no sign of it. Not even the recent raids of the human villages south of the forest yielded any clue. King Bloodthorn was sure the sapphire's power kept it hidden from the trolls. It had to, because they had searched since spring and covered every bit of the Wilderkind Forest at least twice.
He was sure that Pharark would find their failure unacceptable and go off in another of his angry, devastating fits of rage. If there was a way to stop Pharark, Krookin Bloodthorn thought he might try it, but the Demon of Destruction was far too powerful to take on. For the sake of his kindred and their future, he took Pharark at his word that all of the land west of the mountains would be his to rule after the humans were destroyed.
King Bloodthorn had been so angry at the last report that he'd lashed out and killed three of his servants and the troll who brought him the message. It made him furious that Pharark could cause so much fear, pain, and loss of life without even being present. The fact that it was his own fear of the demon's wrath only added fuel to the fire. He wished he could muster some sense of pride or dignity in the presence of him, but through experience, he knew that being in front of Pharark was unnerving in itself.
Suddenly, the trees began to shake and the ground trembled. Krookin knew it was time. Pharark was coming, and there would surely be a price to pay for not finding the demon's prize. The trees and earth shook again, sending down a fluttering shower of green and yellow leaves from the branches that formed the roof of the chamber. He rushed to seat himself back on his throne and tried to appear as dignified as his trembling body would allow him.
The air in the center of the room shimmered and distorted, and then filled with the unexpectedly small image of Pharark who was in some sort of human-ish form. A moment later, Pharark changed and filled the space before Krookin Bloodthorn with the evil visage he was used to. The demon stood on his stubby, squatted legs and thrust his huge head straight up through the forested roof of the throne chamber. The larger limbs were broken away while the smaller ones were burned back. A circle of flame surrounded the area he had penetrated giving the demon a smoldering halo.
A falling branch smacked right into one of the pools dug into the floor. Flaming sap splashed across the twisted trunks of the trees forming one of the walls of the room.
King Bloodthorn cringed in both terror and sadness for now, as the demon cursed him for failure and threatened him with disaster, his throne chamber began to burn down around him, and there was absolutely nothing he could do but sit and watch it happen.
But to his great surprise, Pharark squatted back down and blew out the flames with a huff of fetid breath that curled the smaller limbs and made most of the leaves fall.
"I have information," Pharark bellowed deeply, causing more leaves to shake loose and flutter down from the chamber's now open ceiling. "Your assumption that the stone might be magically hidden might not be so foolish as I once believed." The demon lowered his snarling head and leaned closer to the trembling king of the wood trolls. "A group of humans, elves, and dwarves with the power to find the sapphire are seeking it in your forest to the south."
"I will have them destroyed at once, your greatness," King Bloodthorn said the first thing that came to his mind.
"No, you will not," Pharark yelled back, sending King Bloodthorn over his throne to crouch behind it in fear. "Where you have failed, they will succeed. Your people must not, will not, harm them."
"What would you have us do then, Master?" King Bloodthorn croaked.
"You will follow them discreetly or I will eat your children and add their bones to my pile." Pharark then leaned back to his squatted position, which put the top of his head right in the smoking hole he had smashed through the roof earlier. "When they have found the stone, and your trolls are completely sure of its location, they should summon me with this." The demon dropped a heavy black stone from his hand. It landed in the seat of the thorny cathedra, crushing its way through to the floor.
Pharark laughed loudly, shaking more leaves from the branches around his head. "You will send your fiercest and most loyal, a force sufficient to destroy the group, but you will tell them to keep harm from finding them until the sapphire is located. Once they've eyes on the gem, they will summon me with the stone, and only then will they be allowed to kill. If you fail me in this, Krookin Bloodthorn, there will be no kingdom of wood trolls left for you to rule. I will leave you alone in your forest with nothing but corpses and tears."
Chapter Nine
Dendle had been running through the night, but no matter how hard or fast he ran, he couldn't lose his pursuers. They were young gothican warriors, and he was learning firsthand why gothicans hunted with daggers instead of bows. No matter how many times he doubled back or altered course they stayed on his trail, tirelessly. He couldn't seem to get ahead of them, and though he hadn't yet been caught, he desperately needed to catch his breath.