The Guided Journey (Book 6) (21 page)

“He’s going to die,” she spoke matter-of-factly.

“Hampus,” Kestrel called.  “Please go back to our campsite and get one of the skins with the healing spring water,” he instructed.

“Right away, Kestrel,” the elf answered.  He set his bow down, then went loping out of sight towards the river.

“We’ll see if we have something to heal him,” Kestrel told the woman.  “You stay with him; I’ll be back in a moment.”

He stood and walked back to the men who sat on the ground.

“What were you doing to that man?” Kestrel asked as he stood near them.  He held his staff ready to strike anyone who made a move towards him.

“Krusima was angry with us.  He made the ore we were mining disappear,” one of the men answered.

“You’re miners?” Kestrel asked, surprised by the man’s answer.

“Yes; we came to these mountains last fall to start a new mine.  There was a good vein of tin ore we were following, but it disappeared two weeks ago.  We prayed to Krusima, the god of the earth – he’s a human god,” the self-appointed spokesman explained to Kestrel.

“Krusima wouldn’t ask you to make a human sacrifice,” Kestrel said assertively.

“He did though,” another man affirmed.

“He’s never asked for anything like it before, but our god really did make this demand,” a third sitter chimed in.

“No human god has ever asked for a sacrifice like this have they?” Kestrel aloud, a rhetorical question.  He couldn’t imagine any of the gods seeking the death of a human as part of a ritual.  He didn’t know Shaiss or Krusima well, but he hadn’t ever heard anything from Kai or Growelf to make him think such terrible practices were condoned by the gods.  Not even by Krusima, who he knew was angry with him.

“Never before,” one of the men spoke up.  “But Krusima stopped answering our prayers a fortnight ago.  We heard nothing from him, no indication that he approved or disapproved of our work.  Then, two nights ago, several of us had a vision that he wished for us to make a sacrifice,” the man said.

“We all talked about it, and thought it was crazy, but last night we had the same dream,” someone else said.  “So we thought we had to do it.”

“Kai,” Kestrel said under his breath, “is this possible?”  He didn’t expect the goddess to answer but he had no way to interpret what was being recounted.

“There will be no sacrifice,” Kestrel said decisively.  “Where is your mine?” he asked.

“Its’ just west of here, up on the mountainside.  You can see it in the daylight,” one of the miners answered.  “That’s where Krusima spoke to us, deep inside the mine,” the man explained.

“Go back to your mine and dig for the ore.  Krusima wouldn’t really make it go away, I don’t believe,” Kestrel said.

“Are you a priest?  How do you know?” someone challenged him.

“No, I’m no priest, especially not for Krusima, but I do not believe he would ask such a thing of his followers, when we’ve never heard of him asking for anything like it before,” Kestrel replied.

“Here’s the water, Kestrel,” Hampus came running back up to the site of the conflict.

“Go sprinkle some on the back of the man’s head,” Kestrel gestured towards the pair of people who remained in their place, closer to the fire.   “Then try to make him drink some, even just a few drops.

“And ask the woman to take a drink too,” he added thoughtfully, hoping to revive her spirits.

“All of you go back up to the mine,” Kestrel repeated.  The miners looked and acted defeated, and he thought it was safe to release them.  “I’ll come up to see you and the mine tomorrow.”

“What good will it do for you to come see the mine?” a miner asked in a dismissive tone.

Putty gave a growl, and the miner shut his mouth.

“Go now,” Kestrel told them.  Within seconds, they were all on their feet and running off into the darkness, leaving the rescued and their rescuers alone in the fire-lit opening among the stones.  Satisfied that they would offer no threat during the night, Kestrel walked over to join Hampus and the others.

“What’s happening?” the woman faintly asked.  “Elves, yetis, and sprites all appearing out of the darkness to save us?” she said plaintively.  “I don’t understand,” Kestrel translated her words for the others.

“We are imps!  Not sprites, not gnomes, not anything else; we are imps!” Mulberry said definitively.  “No offense is taken, mind you, for I’m sure none was intended.”  She firmly planted the end of her pike on the ground with a thump, in affirmation of her statement, and Kestrel translated again, with a grin.

“No,” the woman faltered, “no offense was intended.”

“That’s enough, Mulberry,” Kestrel gently chided the imp.  He knelt down beside the woman, and placed his hands on the man’s head.  “Did you drink some of the water Hampus brought?” he asked, as he let his hands roam over the back of the victim’s skull, finding the lump and the contusion from the blow to his head.  They didn’t seem life-threatening, he was pleased to note.  The water from the spring was very likely to heal such an injury quickly.

“I drank some.  I don’t know why,” the woman said.  She was compliant, glad that someone had come to rescue them, and then to accept the responsibility for whatever was going to happen next.  The events of the night had left her too distraught to carry on alone any further.

“It’s water from an enchanted spring,” Kestrel told her.  He looked at her, trying to evaluate her, to guess her story.  “What are your names?” he asked.

“I’m Raines.  This is my husband, Passet,” she answered quickly.

“Well Raines, we’ll spend the night here with you and Passet, if it’s okay.  Do you have a home near here?  We can take you home tomorrow if it’s not too far.  He’d be better off healing at home if the trip isn’t too long,” Kestrel told her.

“We don’t have a home,” Raines told Kestrel.  “Yet,” she added.  “We came out here to the wilderness to get away – to start over,” she corrected herself.  “We were caught by those men, and they just attacked Passet.  They hadn’t touched me.”

Kestrel looked at her.  Her story didn’t make a lot of sense.  Two seemingly under-supplied humans didn’t seem likely to just wander into the wildness, unless they had no idea about what they faced.

“We’re going to go get our supplies and bring them back here to camp with you,” he told her.  “Hampus will stay with you while the rest of us are gone for a little while,” he explained as he stood up.

He switched his language to the elven tongue.  “Putty and I will go back to our camp and bring our things back here, if you’ll keep an eye on these two while we’re gone,” he said to Hampus.

The elf nodded.

“If you feel like it, you can drag the dead bodies out of sight,” Kestrel suggested, then he motioned to Putienne.  “You come with me,” he told the yeti, and the two of them walked away from the fire, as the imps glided silently over to him.

“Thank you again for your help,” Kestrel told the trio.  “I didn’t expect you to bring pikes along!”

“I’ve wanted to use them for a long time!” Acanthus spoke enthusiastically.  “They’re such great fun!”

“Everything here seems secure now,” Kestrel said.  “Go home and enjoy yourselves.  I hope I won’t have to call you again for anything so war-like.”

“Farewell, Kestrel-fighter.  Just let us know when you’ll take us to the magical waters,” Stillwater answered.

“Soon, I’m sure it’ll be soon,” Kestrel replied, and he watched the imps disappear as he and his yeti companion strode atop the river bank to find their former camp site.

“Let’s try to carry everything in one trip, Putty,” he told the yeti when they got to the campsite.  He draped a number of items upon the yeti, picked up others himself, and then covered the coals of their fire, before the pair traveled back to their new campsite.

The large bonfire that the miners had created was dying down, turning into a heap of coals from the driftwood logs and limbs that had been collected and used for fuel.  Hampus sat on the ground, his back against one of the boulders that formed the sides of the space.

Kestrel deposited their belongings, then sat down next to the elf.  “Thank you for helping me in the fight,” he said.

“Putty and I found you were gone when we got back to the camp, but we saw the glow from this fire, so we just came looking.  I figured there must be something out-of-the ordinary to make you just disappear from camp, so I took my bow and went looking,” Hampus explained.

“And the creature wasn’t going to be left behind,” he jerked his thumb at Putty, who stood nearby.  “So we came up here and found you, and the others.

“What do you think about this human sacrifice?” he asked in a lower voice, even though the nearby human woman did not understand their language.  “I’m glad our gods don’t ask for us to make sacrifices like that.”

“It doesn’t ring true,” Kestrel answered.  “I know something about the human gods, and this just doesn’t seem right.”

“I heard rumors that you’ve dabbled in human religions.” Hampus said.  “So it’s true?”

Kestrel started to laugh.  “Dabbled in?” he laughed, as Raines looked at him.  “I love the goddess – I worship Kai with all my heart.  And Growelf has his good sides too,” he added with a look up to the heavens.

“And Kere has been very good to me – motherly and tender and supportive.

“I don’t think I have to choose just one god to love and worship, or even one set of gods.  They all have something about them – that’s why they’re gods,” he thought about the evil god of the Viathins, Ashcrayss, who had been so starved for pain and suffering.  He was a god who would have demanded – had demanded – human sacrifices, Kestrel thought.

The idea grabbed hold of him, and made him raise his head in astonishment.

“No, that can’t be,” he said softly.

The god of the Viathins was dead; Kestrel had killed the monster himself.

“No, it’s not Ashcrayss,” Kestrel muttered, sure of what he said.

“You tell a great story, and you’re a pretty impressive elf, but I think you’re exaggerating, aren’t you, to claim you know these gods like this?” Hampus challenged him.

“Think what you like,” Kestrel said indifferently.  “It’s all true, everything I’ve said and more, but it doesn’t really matter.”

The two of them fell silent, and Raines spoke up.  “Is everything okay?” she asked.

“We were just talking about whether a human god would really ask for a sacrifice like this,” Kestrel switched languages as he stood up and strolled over to squat down next to her.  “It doesn’t sound real to me,” he said.

“I pray to Shaiss, and she’s never asked for any type of sacrifice,” the woman said.  She looked down at her unconscious companion.

“I think he may awaken in the morning,” Kestrel said assuringly.  “He will probably have a headache, but if we treat him with some more of the spring water, he’ll be okay in a day or two.

“Do you have any supplies?” he asked suddenly.  “It doesn’t seem right that a couple would just be out in the wilderness like this.”

She looked away from him, and was silent for several seconds.

“I ran away from my family, and he ran away from his.  We decided to go out where no one would find us and just live together,” she said in an emotionless voice.

“I don’t think that was the smartest thing to do,” Kestrel blurted out.

“Thanks,” she replied bitterly.  “It wasn’t,” she admitted a moment later.

“We’re heading north to Narrow Bay,” Kestrel told her.  “We can take you back north as far as you want to go with us.”

“You and the yeti and the imps?  Any other races involved?” she managed a wan smile.

“The imps went home,” he answered.  “They only come if I need some help.  It’ll just be elves and a yeti,” he said.  “We’ll plan to head north tomorrow.”

“After you go talk to the miners in the morning?” Raines seemed interested.  “What are you going to tell them?”

“I don’t know,” Kestrel admitted.  “I said that at the time, and I don’t know why.  It seemed to satisfy them.  So we’ll see what happens tomorrow.

“Do you want something to eat?” he asked.  “We have some supplies we can share.”

“I thank you,” the woman answered.  “We hadn’t been eating much the past couple of days.”

Kestrel returned to his pack and took out some hard bread, dried fruit, and dried meat.  The woman accepted the food, and ate it voraciously.  Her evident hunger contributed to Kestrel’s opinion that the couple had no prospects for survival if left alone in the wilderness.

They all went to sleep that night.  Kestrel had decided once again that having a yeti in the party minimized the need to set a watch in the camp, and even though the miners were not far away, he felt that Putty’s presence was still deterrent enough to keep them away.  The column of smoke from their dying fire rose straight to the heavens, disappearing among the bright stars of red and blue and white and yellow that stared down at the scenes on the ground, and they all fell asleep.

Chapter 21 – The Evil in the Mine

When Kestrel awoke the next morning, he considered what he should do and say when he visited the miners in their camp.  There was no obvious answer, so he strolled off into the woods, then knelt and began to pray fervently, seeking answers and information.

He prayed to Kai first, the motherly goddess in the human pantheon with whom he had developed such a close relationship, one in which he was able to help the goddess in response to the many favors she had showered upon him.

“Kai, I need your help.  Can you tell me what is happening?  Has Krusima really asked for human sacrifices?” he fervently asked.

There was no answer, and Kestrel turned his prayers to Growelf.  The god was Kai’s mate.  He was gruff and unsentimental, but he had relied on and aided Kestrel, and had once even seemed to counsel Kestrel.   In the face of Kai’s silence, Growelf was the logical next choice to pray to for guidance and information.

“Growelf, lord of fire, I go to face the worshippers of Krusima, who claim their god has asked for a human sacrifice.  Do you know if the god of the earth has asked for such a thing?” Kestrel’s prayful question was expressed in a pleading tone, but no answer came forth from the deity.

Disgruntled, and worried, Kestrel rose from his prayers, and returned to the camp, where the others were awake and waiting.  He picked up his staff; his knife was already on his belt.

Passet was sitting up, his eyes open, though clouded with pain and confusion.  Raines held her arm around his shoulders, a smile on her face.

“Have you given him any of the water from the spring?” Kestrel asked.  When he saw her head shake negatively, he walked over to his pack and pulled the water skin free.

“Here,” he tossed it to her.  “Dribble some on his head and rub it in, then make him swallow a mouthful.

“I’m going to go see the miners.  Why don’t the rest of you pack up and go down river?  I’ll meet you there when I’m done at the mine,” he explained in both languages as he looked up at the mountainside that loomed over the river valley.

“You don’t want any of us to come with you?  Not even Putienne?” Hampus asked.

“I think she’d scare them more than help me.  I can call the imps if I need help,” Kestrel replied.  “You stay with Hampus,” he firmly addressed the yeti, pointing to their elf companion.  “I’ll be back,” he said, before he turned and jogged away from the campsite.

He looked up at the mountainside, and saw the brown slash of spoils that trailed down the side of the mountain, originating from the mouth of the mine, a brown line that stood out from the greenery growing so prolifically on the slopes all around.  It marked the spot he needed to reach, as clearly as if a sign was painted with an arrow pointed at the mine entrance.

Resolutely, he began to climb the mountain, searching for waterways, ravines, and ridges, alternating topographical features that offered a variety of ways to advance upward for a few score yards at a time.  The journey was steep, and slow, and Kestrel grew sweaty as he perspired heavily during his labors, but after an hour, he was nearly even with the mine mouth, and he stopped to rest while he collected his wits for the uncertain conversation he was about to face.

When he felt his pulse slow and his breath come easily, Kestrel walked along the mountainside until he reached the treeless opening around the mine mouth, and was spotted by the miners.  Several were sitting and standing outside the dark opening to the mine; when they spotted him there was a rising murmur, and those who sat rose to their feet.  They appeared to have their belongings and equipment packed, as if they were prepared to abandon the mine they had clearly worked so hard to excavate.

Still uncertain about what he could accomplish, Kestrel pulled his knife free, then walked towards the men, and stopped at a spot several feet away from the men.

“What are you going to do, since you’re here?” a spokesman asked.

“I don’t know,” Kestrel was honest.  “I just don’t believe that Krusima would ask for a sacrifice.  I don’t believe any of the gods would.”

“You’re an elf who knows our god better than we do?” one man’s voice evoked skepticism.

“I was there when he spoke to us,” another man said.  “Krusima appeared, as surely as if we were at one of his temples.  We were in the mine, right where the vein of ore ended.”

“It was Krusima?  You’re sure?” Kestrel asked.

“It was a god, I tell you,” another man said.

“Who else could it be?” another voice spoke up.

“Would you take me to that place?” Kestrel requested.  There was nothing to gain from seeing the inside of the mine, but he felt compelled.

“Why?  What will that prove?” the first miner asked.  “Just go on your way, and take your monsters with you.”

Kestrel felt tempted to obey the dismissal.  He could descend the mountain, and rejoin his friends so that they could continue their journey north.

But whatever had made him come to the miners in the first place was not going to let him take satisfaction in simply walking away.

“If you take me into the mine and show me the place where Krusima appeared, I’ll leave you alone and go away,” Kestrel said.

“Go on, show him,” someone said.  “It’ll only take ten minutes.”

Three men put their packs down on the ground, and stepped into the mouth of the mine.

“We’ll show him,” one of them said.  “Follow us,” the man motioned to Kestrel, as his companions struck sparks to light a pair of lanterns.

Cautiously, keeping a wary eye on the rest of the group of miners, Kestrel walked over to the mine opening.  He felt jittery now, unsure of the miners, and the surroundings, and the situation.  He stopped when he reached the entrance to the mine, even though his guides were starting to move forward.

Kestrel focused on the energy within himself, the legacy he had inherited from his divine father, the god he did not know, and who did not know him.  It was within; he had an inkling of how to call it, to make it actively serve his needs, at least in a limited way.  He could feel his attention circling around the energy, while the latent powers seemed to hide, to resist coming out into the open.

“Are you coming or not?” a miner asked, and Kestrel’s attention was distracted.  The energy slipped away from his control before he had even firmly grasped it.

“Here I come,” he answered.  He pressed himself away from the stony wall that he discovered he had unconsciously leant against, and walked into the darkness of the mine, headed towards the two dim lanterns and the unknown darkness beyond.

The miners knew where they were going, it seemed to Kestrel.  Whether they knew what they would find was a different matter.

They went along a shaft that seemed to rise and fall as it penetrated the mountain’s stony interior.  There were side chambers that they ignored as they walked along in silence.  Kestrel’s elven vision allowed him to take advantage of the dim lantern light to see his surroundings clearly, and he saw nothing amiss, until they rounded a sharp corner.

The atmosphere in the mine suddenly felt dense and hostile to Kestrel.  He didn’t see anything amiss, but he sensed something profoundly wrong.

“Right over there,” one miner spoke for the first time since they had entered the mine.  He raised his lantern and gestured to the end of the mine tunnel, an abrupt wall of stone that seemed to be writhing with energy, to Kestrel’s senses.

“Is this the sacrifice you’ve brought me?” a deep voice vibrated out of the walls on the mine.  “Shall I watch you slaughter it for me now?” there was a terrible joy in the awful suggestion.

Kestrel felt fear and disgust rise up in him.  His instincts grabbed for the power within, and this time there was no hesitation, as the energy flared outward, and created a protective bubble that surrounded him.

“This is who you brought me?” the voice rose in pitch.  “Fools!” The voice said suddenly.  “Blasphemers!” it added, and Kestrel felt energy lash out at him, a weak lash of power struck against Kestrel’s shield, making it flash with spots of light where the contact occurred.

The men with Kestrel cried out in fear, while he once again acted instinctively, extending his shield to be large enough to protect the miners too.  His power retaliated before he was even aware, as it manipulated a portion of itself to take the form of a whip, and then wielded itself in retaliation against the blank wall in front of them.

There was a bright, and loud explosion.  Shards of stone went flying through the air, as his energy made contact with the unseen power that lurked in the dimness at the end of the tunnel.  It was like a thin sheet of power that had controlled a small sphere of influence under the earth.  The unknown power was weak though, and Kestrel’s energy, seeming to control itself as it assaulted the opponent, was stronger.

The explosion came and went for a second, then Kestrel saw the vague outline of a figure standing in front of them.  It raised its arms in a threatening gesture.

“Curse you again, elfling!  Your interference is intolerable!  You will face the consequences when the time is right!” the figure rasped.

It was a frightening sight.  Even though the figure was insubstantial, a wispy entity that could be seen through, it still managed to project an aura of power and hatred.  It was a threat.

Kestrel still held his knife in his hand.  He pulled his arm back and threw the weapon at the thing in front of them.  Only a fraction of a second passed before his knife struck the figure, and when it did, the figure flashed brightly, screamed in pain and hatred, then exploded again.  A new rain of stones flew through the air, striking the shield Kestrel maintained, and damaging it.  The shield collapsed from the frightful force of so many rocky projectiles, and Kestrel and the miners were repeatedly hit by small stones.

One stone struck Kestrel in the forehead, and caused him to collapse.  He fell to the ground, the miners behind him also falling, though none of the trio passed out.  The explosion echoed away, its sound receding down the distance of the mine tunnel, and then silence returned.

The noise was gone.  The figure was gone.  The sense of power and anger and hatred was gone.  All that remained were the three of them – Kestrel and the two miners.  There was a layer of stone shards on the ground, a thick air of dust floating about, making it difficult to breath, and two lanterns, one of them lit, the other one broken.

Kestrel sat up, and coughed repeatedly, as the dusty air slowly thinned around him.  The miners sat up, then stood up, and Kestrel did the same.

“That wasn’t Krusima,” Kestrel said.  “Whatever it was, it wasn’t your god.”

“It’s gone, isn’t it?” one of the miners asked.

“It’s gone,” the other miner agreed.  “I can feel the difference.  I didn’t realize what I felt until you killed it.”

“I don’t know that I killed it.  I don’t know what it was.  Are there,” Kestrel paused as he groped to try to find words.  “Are there spirits or demons or things that live under the earth?  Did you disturb something?”

“There’s nothing like this that I ever heard of,” one of the miners replied.

Kestrel walked forward to where something glinted in the darkness.  He stooped and picked up a shard of glass.

“That’s from the small temple we had here,” one miner explained.  “We always leave a temple at the end of the tunnel at the end of the day and say prayers to Krusima asking for a profitable day tomorrow.”

“Look!  The ore vein’s back!” the other miner shouted.  He poked a finger at the wall of the mine, touching a wide, dark patch of rock different from those above and below.

“Is it safe now?” He asked Kestrel.  “Did you drive the evil away?  We’d love to come back and start mining this again.”

“Whatever was here is gone,” Kestrel said.  “I don’t think I’d come back in here though.”

He picked up his knife, which had passed through the evil entity as it destroyed the thing.  It had struck the wall and then fallen to the ground.  Kestrel examined it closely, but saw no ill effects, as he placed it back in his belt.

“Let’s head back out to see the others, and tell them what happened,” the other miner said, and the trio walked back towards the entrance.

When they returned to the daylight, Kestrel blinked while his eyes adjusted to the brightness.

“We thought you were dead!” one of the waiting miners told the returnees.  “We heard a pair of explosions.  What happened?”

Kestrel’s two companions recounted the frightening encounter in the mine.

“And the elf beat it!” the tale teller finished.  “He had powers that protected us, and then killed it!”

“I didn’t know elves had powers,” one of the listeners said in wonder.

“I’m different from most elves and humans,” Kestrel said modestly.

“But now the vein of ore is back!  It looks just as rich as ever!” one of the miners who had accompanied Kestrel interjected, returning to his concern.

“It’s the best ore I’ve seen in twenty years,” one miner spoke up.

“Let’s be careful, and go back to it,” another said.

“Will you stay here to fight any other evil spirits that haunt the mine?” one of them asked Kestrel.