A Darkness Unleashed (Book 2) (43 page)

“Now taste our power!” she snarled in a thick tone.

A blast much like his own, yet less focused and more raw, crashed into Tallen and threw him to the ground. He felt strong arms pulling him to his feet, and a familiar mustachioed face tried to hide its despair.

“It is too late!” Boris shouted. The man turned. “Slar! Get Jaerd! We have to get out of here.”

Another blast flew from Maddi, yet somehow Gan used Tallen’s power to throw up a shield. A short figure ran out and flung Jaerd over his shoulder. Tallen swooned, and Boris did much the same. With only the faintest sense of consciousness, Tallen looked to where Maddi stood in front of the now lifeless cracked pillar. The smile that once had held love for him now warped itself into a malicious leer.

Inky blackness washed over her eyes, and Tallen fell into it.

The Dragonscales are not impassible in the most formal sense of the word, but it would take the best mountaineers ever bred to cross those formidable peaks. And no one knows for certain what dark things may still live there. – “A Tour of Tarmor” by Yohan Antrall

T
he second troll hoisted a moss covered rock twice the size of Dorias’ head and hurled it across the pass.

He threw up a shield of Earth and Air, melded together with Psoul. The stone smashed against it and pushed him back three steps. Gwelan dashed in while the troll screamed in rage, raking one of his swords across the creature’s stomach. Dorias followed, throwing sharp points of Earth at the troll’s new wound. Dark red blood spouted forth. The creature tumbled to the ground, moaning in pain and impotent rage.

Sensing everything around him at once, Dorias turned to aid Tomas, while Gwelan swept in to finish the troll.

The paladin had already thrust his sword into the first creature’s upper thigh, and the beast stumbled about the narrow passage between cliff faces. Dorias threw another Earth blast , sending the troll tumbling to the ground. It struggled to rise, one arm now useless. Tomas stepped closer and drove his flaming sword into the creature’s brain. The troll quivered for a moment, until Tomas twisted his sword and left the creature still.

“This is getting old.” Gwelan wiped his sword with a strip of an old shirt. “Why aren’t these things with the orc horde?”

Tomas used a similar cloth on his weapon. “Trolls are wild, for the most part. Even orcs have a difficult time harnessing them. Be glad they could not bring more of them to bear at the Gallond. Fewer would have escaped than did.”

Disappointed at their lack of progress, Dorias shaded his sight against the high sun. “We have been carving our way through these mountains for three weeks. We must make better time if we are to save Tallen.”

“We are past the divide and on the final descent, from what I can tell.” Tomas slammed his sword home in its sheath. “I can sense a river just past this rise, probably the water source for these trolls. It should lead us quickly down into the vale along the eastern flank of the Dragonsclaw spur.”

Gathering up the pack he had tossed aside for the fight, Gwelan scowled in the direction Tomas indicated. “If the river is their water source, that means there will be more trolls. Won’t that slow us down?”

Tomas shrugged. “It’s a gamble. We have more climbing up and down if we avoid the river, and we could still run into trolls, or anything else.”

Disquiet growing within, Dorias folded his arms. Deep inside he felt a great fear that he had failed, and he masked it with determination to get through the mountains. He dreaded what might happen if he recognized that mistake.
I’ll probably never have to, because Galdreth will have destroyed us all.

“If we have to kill every troll in the Dragonscales to get through, then that’s what we do. If Galdreth takes Tallen before we get there, not only will we have failed him, but we have failed the whole world.”

Gwelan started off toward the river. “The world I’m not certain about, but I definitely liked that kid.” He hopped down from a shelf, following a little trickle of snowmelt.

Looking to the paladin, Dorias smiled. “I always liked that kid, too. Funny how you and I keep finding young people with such talents.”

Tomas smiled. “It’s good to know we will leave a few good people behind.”

The land descended rapidly, and soon the small trickle became a raging torrent, white and frothy. Several hours passed with little but the water to provide company.

His heart full of trepidation, Dorias waved at the empty stone surroundings. “Trolls hunt at night and stay near water in the day. Why have we found so few here?”

Hoisting himself over a boulder, Tomas grunted as he spoke. “We close on Dragonsclaw. This is likely the former hunting grounds of a great deal of the trolls killed at Highspur and on the Gallond.” He laughed darkly. “Don’t fear. New ones will move in next spring.”

Merl alighted on Dorias’ shoulder. He peered into the raven’s memories with a dribble of Psoul Aspect. Images flooded into his mind, mostly of wooded slopes and wild animals. But then the mound of Dragonsclaw came into view and Dorias smiled, tossing his friend into the air to go find dinner.

“We will arrive there yet this evening,” he said. “Shortly after dusk.”

The sun cast long shadows when they looked at the black mountain.

Tomas waved Dorias forward. “There are scouts in these hills. We must remain silent.” He hopped down from a stone ledge. “You should warn Merl to keep to the heights. Many of the scouts will be quick with an arrow.”

They progressed closer well after the sun disappeared from the sky and the first bright stars popped out overhead. The moon hung in a thick, gibbous drop of white, casting eerie shadows through the trees. Beneath a towering pine Tomas had the three gather close, while he reached out with his senses. After a few seconds, he shook his head.

“The patrols are too thick.” He kept reaching outward, and Dorias felt the tingle at the back of his neck that he knew from when Tomas used his power at its greatest strength. “We cannot get through without a fight.” The tingle in Dorias’ neck grew until he wanted to scratch at it. “But there is something…I…I sense a great power coming. It glows like a flame of
psahn
.” The paladin’s brow wrinkled. “There are others there, but it is difficult to tell with the…brightness of this power. I…I have never before felt something like this.”

Tomas held out one hand before him. “One of them is definitely Boris, but I think another is an orc.” He waved Dorias and Gwelan forward. “Come.”

Nervous joy threatening to force him into a smile, Dorias crept forward. Tentatively, he reached out with his own limited Psoul sense.
It’s not as powerful as I’ve seen Tallen do, but I won’t be caught unawares.

A cluster of figures entered his web, one radiating a power he had never before sensed, yet it felt fearfully reminiscent of something he had known in the past.
When Tallen was drawn into the Dreamrealm…

The shadows closed in out of the darkness, while Tomas and Gwelan drew their weapons. But those swords soon found their sheaths when the figures came close enough to see by moonlight. Boris carried a mumbling Tallen, while a finely armored orc had heaved an unconscious dangling Jaerd Westar over his own.

The earl almost collapsed to his knees. “By all the Aspects, the Balance, and the Talismans too, what eternal providence has placed the three of you in these mountains?”

Tomas eased Boris down, while the orc laid Jaerd against a tree. He backed away, hands raised to Gwelan in a sign of peace.

Boris rested Tallen on the ground and Dorias dropped beside him. The young man babbled in a strange language.

“Wait…” Dorias pursed his lips. “That’s an ancient dialect of Dwarvish, spoken before the Dragon Wars by a group of dwarves thought wiped out.”

Boris shook his head with exhausted fear. “He has taken in one of those Dragonsouls you spoke of, though not the one who hunted him.”

“Gan,” Dorias whispered.

“Tomas!” Gwelan waved for the paladin. “The captain isn’t breathing!”

“Go.” Dorias pushed the paladin. “I will help him if I can. You see if you can save his brother.”

Tomas dashed over to Jaerd, and Dorias felt him embrace his healing Talent.

He turned his attention to Tallen, who did not thrash, but continued his rant, now in a clear form of the Hadonese dialect. Dorias touched the Psoul Aspect and saw again the burning white power of a Dragonsoul wrapped around Tallen’s
psahn
. The two separate entities flashed against each other, but Dorias could see places where they had begun to meld. There, a sort of peaceful quiet reigned in the violent power of their energies.

“We will have to help him consolidate his mind.” Dorias shook his head at Boris, whose ragged face tried to focus. “Talking to him like he is Tallen should help, though in truth, I have never experienced anything even remotely like this.”

Dorias looked toward where Tomas focused on Jaerd, a grave expression on the paladin’s face. Easing Tallen to the ground, he dashed over to offer his aid, his heart rate increasing with every step.

Tomas shook his head. “There is nothing I can do. He is just an empty shell. I can find no wounds, but his life force is…gone.”

“Bloody hells and flames.” Dorias leaned in close, searching Jaerd for any sign of life. His beam of Psoul found emptiness, and his hands found a cold body.

As he stared at Jaerd’s body, a deep remorse began to rise within Dorias. The sadness hollowed out a spot within him, but he forced it to stay there. Even though Jaerd was a noble soldier and the brother of one of Dorias’ newest and best friends, that sorrow had to wait. Captain Jaerd Westar deserved far more, but the danger of the moment called for haste. He looked at the orc who waited in silence, and then at Boris.

“What happened?”

“Galdreth happened, and I am sorry for it.” The orc bowed his head, genuine sorrow weighing on his brow. “I have seen the darkness paid to both our peoples for the dark master’s rising, and I hope to lead rebellion against it.” He kneeled. “But I offer my life in exchange for your friend’s, if that is something you would prefer.”

Earl Boris struggled to his feet with the aid of his longsword. Sadness hollowed out his eyes far more than the exhaustion. “No, Slar my friend. You have sacrificed so much to aid us. Captain Westar’s death is not yours to bear. Nor is the loss of Maddi.”

A slight wail escaped through Tallen’s babble.

“What happened to Maddi?” Tomas asked, the concern writ plain on his face.

“Galdreth took her,” Tallen said suddenly, his voice deep and sonorous. “He will try to destroy her will and take its place.” A flash of silvery light shot through his eyes. “But she is strong, and we will find a way to drive Galdreth from her body.”

Tallen stood. The haze of silver light emanating from his eyes shined down on Jaerd’s body. “My brother has passed. This is sadness we…Gan has not felt directly before…nor we…I mean me. I’m not sure…” He knelt down by his brother’s side. “You will want to step away.”

Dorias sensed as surge of power from the young wizard. “Tallen are you certain—”

“Fear not, Dorias my friend. I can sense he has passed. He would not want the enemy to find him and we…I have a long way to go.” He looked at Dorias with his silver-lit gaze. “You know where we need to go. I think you will find your problems with communication alleviated.”

“But your brother…”

When Tallen turned to Dorias, he could see that the young man no longer remained himself. His voice was low and calm, when Dorias knew he must be torn apart inside by the Jaerd’s death. Dozens of times, Dorias had seen how close the two had been. Yet now, at this dark moment, Tallen seemed almost cold.

“I will mourn in my own way,” the young man said, his voice empty and hollow, “when I have time.”

Dorias stepped back as the silver light extended from Tallen’s body to wrap itself around Jaerd. His body flared a bright white then drifted away in a fine ash, leaving an imprint in the stone. Tallen stood, tears streaming down his cheeks, though his face remained placid.

“I will miss Tallen’s brother, I mean our bro…I will miss Jaerd.” The expression on his face did not change, nor did his tone. “But we cannot carry his body south.”

The orc rose to his feet but kept his head bowed. “Many of my ancestors’ ashes are spread in these mountains. I will see that their spirits lead him to the resting grounds of his fathers, wherever they dwell.” He folded his hands. “It would be an honor quest for them in the afterlife.”

Tallen nodded to the orc. “Good luck to you. May you find peace.”

With a bow that encompassed everyone, the orc turned and disappeared into the night.

His disquiet mounting, Dorias looked at Tallen. The silver stare unnerved him and gave him pause. While he stood there pondering Tallen’s fate, a strange sensation popped in Dorias’ mind, like a cloud had lifted from his senses, one that had been wrapped around them for over a year.

“The Dreamrealm,” he gasped. “I sense it.” He looked to Tomas who had begun to get the others moving. Relief flooded through him at the sight of Tallen, but fear soon followed when he blinked those silvery eyes. Dorias could sense power radiating from behind them. However he knew of a friend who had seen this power before, and perhaps a few others who still existed.