A Dead God's Tear (The Netherwalker Trilogy) (48 page)

BOOK: A Dead God's Tear (The Netherwalker Trilogy)
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How naï
ve can you be, child? They know exactly what it is that I'm doing. There is more at stake here than you know. If only you'd keep your nose out of things that don't concern you, we could have avoided all of this. Now, final chance. Accept and save your friend, or he will die.

Her head swam at the implications.
The Elders knew? She wasn’t surprised. The machinations of the long lived elves went deep and far beyond her understanding. She didn't broker much in that trade, her own skills and interests were purely martial in scope, but she didn't like the fact that they dealt with such a creature.

She could only hope that they did so for the good of Selenthia. Selene believed the thought with everything she had; it was all she had to hang on to anymore.

Knowing what you do now, I think it is time for us to make a deal, yes?

With a heavy sigh, she turned to the amulet.

 


 ❧ ❧

 

The clarity came in like the calm after a savage storm. The pressure in his temples lessened and the ceaseless images and sounds vanished, leaving nothing but a sense of peace for the beleaguered apprentice. Marcius breathed a sigh of relief, and he spent a few moments, eyes closed, just relishing the feeling of blissful silence.


How are you feeling?”

Marcius opened a single eye to regard the elf. She was hunched over him, her expression guarded.
  “I feel much better. The pain just vanished suddenly. My stomach hurts a little. What did you do? I don't remember much.”


I did nothing,” she said. “I just took care of you the best I could. Do you know what caused it? Was it the thing in your pouch?”

M
arcius glanced at the pouch on his belt. It was still there, but the glow was muted, as if it was resting. “I don't know. It might be the place itself. Maybe it's because I'm a wizard?” He ran his fingers nervously through his hair, “I just don't know.”

Se
lene's eyes narrowed for a moment, but then her face lightened. “Are you capable of standing?” Marcius nodded. “Let me help you up.”

He gave her a questioning look but took her proffered hand anyway. There was a rancid taste of copper and bile in his mouth
and he ran his tongue along his teeth in a vain attempt to clear it.

It didn't work.

He looked around. They were closer to the tower now and it loomed over them, far larger than it had appeared originally. It was dark, but in more ways than just those pertaining to light. Marcius wasn't sure exactly what lurked within, but there was an overwhelming feeling of sadness that flowed from the deep recesses; a regret of tales untold, or perhaps of the fate of the former inhabitants.

Marcius felt the pull. The am
ulet wanted him to go in. Inside was where he needed to be. For a brief moment, he considered throwing the amulet away, but he shook away the notion. He had the feeling that it was important to his, and more importantly, Selene's safety. The chance was too risky.


Do you still want to go in?” Selene asked, surprising Marcius as she stood next to him.

He stared at her, “
I thought you were against it?”

Her jaw flexed, “
I am, but if we are careful, there is time to take a look around before the sun rises and the Myst recedes.”

A thought struck him, “
Selene, what happens if we're still here when the Myst leaves? Will we be stuck here?”


I do not know. The Myst changes and twists. We could be anywhere. I heard no tales of ancient towers within our borders, and yet here it is. I can tell you that the tower is not elven in make.” She paused for a moment considering the possibilities. “If that amulet in your pouch led us here, perhaps it could lead us back. Come, if we wish to explore, we should do so quickly.”

Wait,
when had he ever told her that it was an amulet? He opened his mouth to ask, but the elven woman was already moving, heading to the entrance of the tower.

 

❧ ❧ ❧

 

The tower had seen better years, as the stone had crumbled and cracked in most places. It looked as if it was about to fall at any moment. The door, however, was wrought of a solid metallic material and had no such weakness.

Marcius stared at it for a moment, taking in the fine make and intricate carvings of vague figures that he didn't recognize
. “How do you propose we deal with this?” he asked Selene.

The elf didn't say anything, running her good hand along the solid obstacle as if considering it. “
It's pretty solid,” she conceded. “But is the rest of the area around it?”

She gave a heavy push a
gainst a cracked brick along the side and it crumbled, falling completely in. From there it was simple to remove the surrounding area around the lock. Amazingly, the hinges were in good condition, made of the same material as the door. It swung open smooth, silently.

The inside was dark, damp, and as Marcius stared into the inky blackness, a wave of stale air wafted up from the recesses. “
Down or up?” Selene asked.


Excuse me?” Marcius, squinting, couldn't see anything beyond the traces of light that penetrated from the outside.


I forget that humans need more light than normal,” Selene admitted. “Perhaps we could use the thing in your pouch?”

Ah yes, the amulet. He nodded and took it out, holding it up like a torch. It sprang to life as if listening to his
command. The light drove away the darkness, revealing two sets of stairs, one that went up and one that went down.

Which way indeed? He looked up briefly, the moonlight flowing from the hole along the side of the tower. He didn't trust the integrity of the
tower, but he couldn't deny the allure of the upper route over the relative unknown of the stairway down.


We should go down,” Selene said, bashing aside his doubts, “The way up seems riskier and prone to danger.” She stepped forward over the rubble, running her hand along the underside of the upper staircase. The stone came off in chunks, as if to illustrate her point.

Marcius peered down. It was steep and his first steps were shaky and uncertain, but with Selene behind him and the light in front of him,
he gained confidence as they went further down the winding stairway.

The drip-drop of water was steady as they made their way down. The only other noise was their nervous breathing and shuffling footsteps. Eventually the stairs rounded down into a long hal
lway. Dust and grime covered everything, and Marcius couldn't help but feel like an intruder, every step marring the landscape of this long untouched area.

The rooms, and Marcius wasn't sure if he was disappointed or relieved, held nothing of note. Little
more than the remains of furniture and various other relics that had withstood the test of time. Out of curiosity, he pulled out a worn scroll case from a dilapidated shelf as Selene reluctantly held the amulet for him.

The paper dissolved in his hands, th
e crumbs mixing with the dust on the ground.

Selene scanned the light around the room. “
If you were looking for something of note, I do not think this would be the place. We look to be in the living area.”

He saw that she was right. Now that he gave a clos
er look at the pile of worm eaten wood in the corner, he could see what had at one been a bed. It was a letdown, but the inherent fact that the mysterious owners did mundane things such as have living areas, did much to relieve Marcius of the trepidation he had felt.

He laughed and Selene looked at him. “
It's nothing,” he said reassuringly, “Just me being silly.”

Since it would have been pointless to loiter about, they continued on, stopping at each room along the way, just in case. They were all similar in
make and Marcius wondered if perhaps this had been a barracks for soldiers or something similar.

At the end of the hallway was another set of spiral stairs that went straight down. Effigies lined coves along the wall as they made their way down; grinning
fang faced figures that seemed, to Marcius, to be smiling at some secret knowledge.

As they went down, the throbbing in Marcius's head returned and the old fear of another attack was fresh on his mind. He glanced warily at the amulet in his hand, but besid
es the light, it gave no indication of anything amiss. So where was that feeling coming from?


There is something here,” Selene whispered, echoing his thoughts.

He nodded, but didn't say anything, trying to ignore the thumping in his head. They were commit
ted now, and he had nowhere to go but down.

The stairs slinked down into a long hallway that was different from the rest of the tower, both in model and scope. The block and cement here were solid somehow, as if freshly laid, but it melded into the earth,
so that the hallway looked like a tunnel carved deep into the ground with only a few parts of exposed layering.

How far had they come down?

The question was refreshed as the hallway opened up. The amulet's light didn't reach the entirety of the edges. He was just about to ask Selene's opinion when the room lit up, drawing a cry of surprise from both of them.

Squinting through the sudden intrusion of light, it took a few moments for his sight to return. The room was immense, easily the width of a large town
square or a playwright auditorium. It was circular, gently sloping inwards towards the center.  He blinked, not entirely believing the sight. Torches lined the walls and flame danced on all of them. What had lit them? He put the amulet back in his pouch as he looked around.


Enchanted,” Selene answered his unspoken question, sheathing the knife she had drawn. “Most likely to turn on when anyone enters.”

Marcius nodded, though his attention was on the large stone slab that stood in the middle. An indomitable
monolith that monopolized the room with a presence that Marcius couldn't place. The stone was as wide as the side of a modest stable and tall enough that he doubted he could touch the top without jumping. It was peculiar and he felt drawn to it, stepping forward.

He could see etchings along the surface, deep carvings that stood out from the stone. As he studied it, he began to realize that they were words, though he did not recognize the language.

Selene joined him, her fingertip tracing the words.


Do you recognize the language?”


I know a few pieces, though it is very old,” Selene said, and then added, “Do you not know any of the languages on this stone?”

Marcius stared at her, not entirely understanding. The elf nodded, indicating the tablet. “
There are several languages here. I recognize a few of them, though the arrangement of the words is not normal. They seem to say the same thing.” Her lips pursed together as her brow furrowed, thinking, “It's as if the makers wanted to leave a message for anybody, regardless of race, to read.”

He looked back at the tablet and saw what she said was true. Each segment of writing was different. Still, he did not recognize any of the languages.  Marcius shook his head.

“This must have been made before Common,” he said, disappointed. “Can you translate?”


Perhaps. I don't recognize everything, but maybe if I mix that which I do recognize. . . ” She bent over, looking closer at a segment. “Like this right here is an early form of Yaerish, an elven dialect from far north, while this part here,” she pointed to another segment farther up on the rock, “is clearly Selenthian, though, like I said, the arrangement is not correct. The sentences make little sense.” She looked up at him, wonder plain on her eyes. “The work spent on such a thing is unfathomable. I am curious as to what message is so important to go through such an effort to preserve. I will try.”

Marcius, feeling useless, nodded and let the elf alone to try to translate. He wandered the length of the stone, taking a clo
ser look at the etchings, looking for something he knew. He knew smatterings of a few languages, mostly from Antaigne's texts, and a few times he thought he identified various words, but it was as Selene said.

As always, the thought of the swarthy dwarven
wizard caused a tightening in his chest and he was reminded again as to why he was here. Reflexively his hand went to his pouch. Had he made the right choice? He looked over at the elven woman engrossed with the stone, her hair falling prettily down over her face as her lips moved silently.

Despite his feelings and previous anger toward the elven woman, he would never have thought he'd be in the situation he was in now, exploring an ancient ruin side by side with her. Guilt chipped away at his thoughts. His
confusion regarding the woman seemed petty when he thought about how she had given up something so very important to her to rescue him. Marcius groaned inwardly. He was always forcing people to save him.

She was just doing her duty. It didn't mean anythi
ng special.

BOOK: A Dead God's Tear (The Netherwalker Trilogy)
11.32Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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