SoulQuest (4 page)

Zarim descended first, Ekala stepping behind him. Swul’s wings raised him above the ground and he flew from the ship, holding the large axe with one hand and resting it on his shoulder. “So, your magic radar workin’?”

Their leader stood quietly in the field, the wind gently caressing his green cloak. He clasped his hands together, fingers pointed to the ground, and lowered his head with his eyes closed. Zarim concentrated on their goal, trying to suss out the flow of the energy. Once he set foot onto Rolyeh, he could feel a presence. As he concentrated, he felt it grow even stronger. Zarim opened his eyes and began walking.
 

“I take it that’s a yes?” asked Ekala.

Zarim gave no answer, just kept walking. Ekala and Swul moved to catch up with him. As he pushed his way through the thick grasses, Swul flew up and slapped a meaty paw on Zarim’s shoulder.
 

“Take it easy, kid!” He spoke in a hushed tone. “You gotta move with caution in this place.”

“You been here before, Swul?” asked Zarim, keeping his own voice low.

“Nah, just know the lore.”

“What makes you think it’s not all just some hoax?” asked Zarim.

“Not exactly itchin’ to find out.”

Zarim smirked. “No sense of adventure, little man?”

A screech echoed from above. The three pirates cast their eyes skyward and saw something with a very large wingspan circling overhead, before flying out of view. It was too high up to make out more than a silhouette. Swul focused back on Zarim. “Too much adventure can get you killed.”

“Point taken,” said Zarim. “I’ve got a bead on the Soulstone, come on.”

He took the lead, moving through the field’s tall grass, the spongy earth giving way to rockier ground as they drew closer to the mountains. A canyon cut through the jagged peaks, making a path just wide enough for one person to go through at a time. Zarim rested one hand on the hilt of his gun and moved through. Swul went next, gripping the axe tightly and holding it above his shoulder. Ekala had both boomerangs drawn, eyes slowly moving from side to side beneath the brim of her hat.
 

They traveled this way for some time, but finally they passed through to the other side and Zarim stepped from the canyon, unhooking the strap that kept his gun affixed in the holster. He glanced around, but all he could see were hills and plains as well as a forest of violet and green in the distance. He breathed in relief and relaxed, turning to face his teammates. “Looks like we’re in the cle—”

As if sensing his relief, a tremor shook the ground. Zarim stumbled forward and Ekala braced herself against the walls of the valley. Swul hovered on his wings, unaffected. When it seemed to pass, Ekala began to move again, but another tremor nearly caused her to fall. She glared up at Zarim. “Don’t jinx us like that again, okay?”

“What was that?” asked Zarim.
 

“I’m guessin’ it was somethin’ with a pretty big footprint,” said Swul.

Zarim’s hand tightened around the gun. “Don’t scare the lady.”

Ekala snickered. “Judging by how tense you are, I’m guessin’ you’re referring to yourself.”

“No, I was just...shut up. We’ve got a job to do.”

Ekala emerged from the valley and rubbed Zarim’s shoulders. “Don’t worry, sweetie. I’ll make sure the big, bad monsters don’t scare you.”

The rumble came again. This time even stronger. Swul’s eyes bulged in their sockets. “You sure about that?”

Past one of the mountains, a large shadow fell on the plain. It seemed to block out the sun completely. An enormous creature covered with dark, green scales came into view. It moved on four legs, with a hard casing running up the length of its torso, up its long neck and ending at its head. The creature’s jaw was elongated, its lips pulled back to reveal rows of pointed fangs. The eyes burned like hot coals, and large, webbed wings protruded from its back. Lining the spine was a row of spikes, extending from the back of its head all the way down to the mace-like tail.

“Don’t. Move.” Zarim whispered. “If we’re lucky, maybe it won’t—”

The dragon’s head jerked in their direction and its glowing eyes narrowed. It let out a loud roar, proclaiming its dominance. It moved towards them deliberately, and Zarim reacted quickly, drawing his gun and firing. The dragon blinked as the bullet struck its snout and it let out a bellow of anger.

“This just isn’t my day,” said Zarim, drawing his sword.
 

The dragon charged towards him, and Zarim jumped from its path. He rolled on the ground, moving quickly back to his feet. It followed him, banking right before running into the side of the mountain, scraping off earth and clinging plant life, and causing a small avalanche of pebbles and stone. Despite this brief delay, its long strides quickly bridged the distance between it and Zarim, and he bent his head down to gobble up the scrambling pirate.

Before the dragon could strike, a boomerang drew its attention, striking its neck and ricocheting away. With his eyes, Zarim followed the boomerang as it flew back into the hand of its wielder.

“Find the stone!” shouted Ekala. “We’ll distract it!”

Zarim couldn’t help but admire the woman. Even though she wanted no part of this mission, that didn’t stop her from transforming into a consummate professional the moment it was necessary. He watched as Swul joined her in the battle, the two of them striking at the dragon from different points, dividing its attention to prevent it from focusing too strongly on one or the other.

He dashed through the field, following his instincts. As he grew closer to the Soulstone, his eyes began to take on a more ethereal color. Zarim tried not to look over his shoulder as he ran through the tall weeds, though he felt an unbelievable temptation to do just that. Into the forest, now moving past the boles of towering trees, Zarim heard a low growl. He came to a sudden stop, Zarim saw a pack of very large wolves slink from the underbrush, shoulders hunched, head and ears low, and coming on their hind legs, instead of all fours. Even in the afternoon sun, their eyes glowed with a strange light. Legends were told of the explorers who never returned from Rolyeh. Most official accounts believed them to be dead, but some theories held that they had gone native, transformed by the island. Until this moment, Zarim hadn’t considered how literal that might be.

There were only three of them ahead of him on the trail, and seemed mostly concerned with the carcass of a giant boar. Zarim knew he had to move carefully to get past them, get downwind so they couldn’t pick up his scent. He pushed his back to a nearby tree, and looked up, finally spotting a limb that seemed strong enough to support his weight. Zarim coiled his legs and sprang, but when he caught the limb, it caused the tree to shake, the leaves rustling.
 

That alerted the werewolves, and they dropped to all fours, moving to investigate the source of the noise, sniffing the air, low growls emanated from their throats. Zarim pulled himself onto the limb. He inched carefully along it, moving closer to the trunk. The tree was too wide to wrap his hands around and the bark was too smooth to afford much of a grip. Moving a hand beneath his cloak, he drew a pair of throwing knives. He jammed one of them into the bark and tested its hold. Satisfied, he pulled himself up and stuck the second knife above the first. After withdrawing the first blade, he saw a strong limb just above. With the daggers, he pulled himself up a little more and was able to climb onto the limb.

In the hopes of transferring himself to another tree, Zarim moved down the limb where it grew thinner, bending under his weight. The leaves attached to the branches rustled. One of the werewolves glanced up and howled. The other two looked up as well. Now the three moved around the tree, staring up at their prey. With their clawed hands, they began ascending the same tree.
 

“Oh, you’ve
got
to be kidding!”

Zarim jumped to a limb on another tree. Two of the wolves tried to give pursuit, scrambling up the first tree. The third was still close to the ground, and he moved beneath Zarim, hoping he might fall. The werewolves’ claws allowed them to move up the trees as easily as if they were running on flat ground, and Zarim realized that in a few more moments they would overtake him, and when they did those same claws would rip him apart.

One of the werewolves leaped across the chasm between trees, easily alighting on the same branch as Zarim, and scrambling along it. He was within feet of reaching Zarim, when a great screech rent the sky above. Zarim cringed as the sharp sound stabbed at his ears and he circled the trunk of the tree trying to put something solid between himself and the werewolf. To his amazement, the werewolf didn’t pursue him any further, but both the werewolves in the trees ran headlong to the ground and disappeared into the underbrush with the third, leaving Zarim and the corpse of the slain boar behind.

Zarim’s relief was short-lived. Whatever had caused the werewolves to flee had to be even worse, and Zarim was now at a loss for what to do. He could feel the Soulstone’s presence coming from somewhere higher, perhaps even atop one of the mountains. The unholy wail came again, louder than it’d been before. He peered through the treetops, and saw a rapid blur fly past. Zarim shook his head, unsure of what it could have been. He tried to locate the Soulstone again, concentrating.
 

A massive talon burst through the leaves, wrapping around Zarim’s torso and pinning his arms to the side. Within seconds, Zarim was being carried high above Rolyeh. He craned his neck, trying to see what it was that held him so tightly. What he saw was a demonic, flying reptile with an elongated beak, leathery wings and skin. And he was now its prey.

The dragon swung its tail, swatting the hovering Swul like an irritating fly. The faerie slammed into the mountainside and slid to the ground with a groan. Ekala drew three throwing knives from the bandolier over her shoulder and whipped them forward. Her aim was precise, the daggers striking the dragon’s neck. However, they were embedded in its hide, serving to do nothing more than to annoy the beast. The dragon jerked its neck towards her, steam blowing from its nostrils.

The dragon tracked her movements with its head, following her. Its gaping jaw opened wide and a stream of flames flowed forth. Ekala jumped to the side as flame scorched the earth, turning it black and sending up the stench of sulphur. She drew her grappling pistol. “This is
exactly
the kinda thing I wanted to avoid!”

She fired the cable, the hook of the grapple puncturing the dragon’s neck. As she dangled from it, avoiding the fiery jet stream, she hit the recoil button on the gun. The cable began retracting, zipping her towards the dragon’s neck. Ekala swung as she rose, moving under the dragon’s neck and when she reached the apex of the swing, disconnected the cable from the gun. She thrust her fingers between the great scales of the beast, and using these as handholds managed to lever herself onto the dragon’s back, using the spikes to stop her from skidding off. She straddled the sides of its neck and got down on all fours, using the spikes as grips.

“SWUL!”

The faerie shook his head, recovering from the dragon’s last blow. He turned and saw Ekala riding the dragon and his eyes widened. “What in the hell are you doin’?”

“As if I have any idea! Get over here and gimme a hand!”

Swul grabbed his battle axe and took to the air, flying towards Ekala and the dragon. “What exactly you expect me to do?”

“I dunno, I’m makin’ this up as I go along!” she shouted.

The dragon glared at Swul, its eyes glowing. Its mouth gaped and another burst of flames erupted. Swul swerved to avoid them, managing to get just tickled by the fire on his exposed arm and wings. The stench of burnt hair filled his nostrils and he cringed. He saw the dragon was looking to take another shot at burning him to a crisp. Swul dove, using his wings to propel him, before another burst could singe him again, and flew directly beneath the dragon. He turned with his back to the ground, his near-translucent blue wings buzzing. He held his battle axe low, between his legs and raised it up, the blade connecting with a part of the dragon’s hide that wasn’t protected by plating.
 

An inhuman wail of incredible pain erupted from the dragon’s mouth. It thrashed, and Ekala struggled to maintain her grip. She climbed further up, drawing a boomerang from the holster on her belt. The weapon was equipped with a bladed tip, activated by a switch. She drew back her arm and hurled the boomerang, the curved throwing weapon spinning counter-clockwise as it flew in front of the dragon. It curved and came circling back, embedding itself into one of the dragon’s open nostrils. The dragon screeched once more, the high-pitched sound likely capable of shattering glass if any were around.

“Hey Swul! I think I got an idea!”

Swul emerged from beneath the dragon’s tail and circled back around. “Is it a crazy one?”
 

Ekala steadied herself as she got to her feet, still balancing atop the heaving dragon. She grabbed a small device from her belt, hitting a switch that turned on a red light. “Just be ready to catch me.”

“
Catch
you? What are you—”

She ran up the neck, and once her feet touched the top of the dragon’s head, she bent her legs and sprung forward. As she fell in front of the dragon, she turned to face it, and threw the red-light device into its gaping maw. Swul’s wings went into hyper-drive, pushing him faster and harder. He let his axe fall to the ground and flew above Ekala, grabbing her outstretched arm by the wrist. He faltered a bit due to the sudden addition of weight, but managed to stabilize her.
 

“Get moving!” she barked.

“Huh? What did—”

The pair were suddenly thrown back as the small explosive Ekala tossed into the dragon’s mouth detonated. The force threw them both forward, the dragon’s innards coating them as they hurtled through the air and struck the ground, skidding along it. They bounced and flipped several times before coming to a stop in the tall weeds. For long moments they lay stunned, sorting out the reality of just what happened in their muddled heads. Swul was the first to sit up. His hat had been thrown during the explosion, revealing the top of his mostly-bald head, short, black hair lining the sides. His pointed ears, normally tucked beneath the hat, were now on full display. The faerie patted the pocket on his shirt and drew a pre-rolled cigar. He struck a match and lit it, drawing the tip to a cherry red while Ekala perched herself up on her elbows.