The Archmage unbound

Chapter 37

“I said we’re going down that tunnel and get rid of that thing while we still have the initiative,” I said with a calm I didn’t really feel. “If you don’t think you can walk in there with me then you’re welcome to remain here,” I added. Motioning to Harold we began walking down the tunnel. Every instinct I had was screaming at me to turn around and run the other direction but I had learned the lesson of conquering my fear several times over now. It still didn’t make it any easier.

After traveling a short distance I heard Walter running to catch up, though he was now invisible to my magesight. I was slightly relieved to have his company. “I’m coming with you,” he said from the dark behind us, “but I’m going to stay invisible. I don’t have any way to fight those things without a staff.”

I nodded, “That’s fine.” I had to admit he was right. He was walking into something terrible alongside us, and he had no reasonable way to fight, in many ways that took more courage than what I was doing, depending on how you looked at it. “Let’s pick up the pace.”

We began moving down the tunnel at a light jog and Harold’s armor began an almost musical symphony of sounds as he ran. We definitely wouldn’t be surprising anyone. I began casting spells as we ran, leaving glowing balls of light hanging in the air behind us every twenty feet or so.

“What are those for?” asked Walter.

“Once we get down there we’ll likely be distracted facing whatever it is in that cavern. You mentioned that you think it’s calling for help. If any shiggreth come down the tunnel behind us the lights will start going out, giving us some warning,” I replied.

“If you’re still fighting that thing there isn’t much you’ll be able to do about them,” he observed.

I opened my pouch and pulled out three of my deadly iron spheres and handed them to Walter. “Use any spell to damage them, or just crush them with something and they’ll explode. Hopefully you can bring down the tunnel ceiling without collapsing the entire cavern on us.”

He held them in his hand as if they might catch fire at any moment. “You want me to use these after we get inside?”

I shook my head, “No, only if the lights start going out. No sense in risking a cave-in unless we have a reason.”

“Why not just toss them in and collapse the ceiling on whatever is in that cavern?” pointed out Harold.

“Three reasons,” I replied, “One, I don’t think that would kill whatever this is. I strongly suspect it could escape one way or another. Two, I need to know what it is. Leaving now just leaves us with more questions and I’m already drowning in things I don’t know.” I slowed down since we had reached the entrance to the final cavern, twenty feet or so and we would be inside.

“What’s the third reason?” Harold asked.

I paused and glanced in Walter’s direction, “This should be good. You can watch from here, just make sure they don’t follow us in there if the other shiggreth come running.” I looked back at Harold, “I want you to lead the way inside. There are two rather large four legged things in there… try to keep them off of me until I’m done with the little one.”

“What’s the third reason?!” Harold repeated stubbornly.

I strengthened my shield and lowered my staff in front of me like a spear. “I don’t like being afraid of things!” I shouted at him, “Now move your ass!”

Harold had already put his visor down but I heard him laugh inside his helm as he leapt forward. Fear and anxiety had given his voice an edge of hysteria but he didn’t give in to it. “Let’s make them afraid of us then!” he shouted back.

Harold charged into the cavern as though he was going to meet an army and I followed closely behind him. As I entered I pointed my staff at the ceiling fifty feet above and created a burning orb there to light the room. I could only hope it was high enough that the shiggreth wouldn’t be able to quench its light.

Light bloomed in the darkness and the room was filled with brilliant radiance as my spell took hold. Sitting on a carved stone throne at one end of the chamber was what appeared to be a small boy. If he had been alive I would have judged his age at around six or seven based on his size and appearance. Next to him on either side were two enormous bears, and they too were undead. That was a bit of a shock to me since I had never considered that the shiggreth might also be able to convert animals.

Harold’s charge came to a faltering halt as we reached the middle of the room and our eyes took in the scene. None of the enemy had moved yet and I was considering my next move when it spoke, “Hello Mordecai.”

A shock ran through me as I realized I recognized the creature’s face. It was Timothy, the little boy that Father Tonnsdale had murdered back in Lancaster. Penny had been the only one to see him commit the evil deed and the body had vanished inexplicably… until now. “Hello Timothy,” I replied with a confidence I didn’t feel. “Or do you have some better name for me to use?”

“Whatever my name was it has long since vanished from the time before I slipped into the void, Timothy will do for our conversation,” it replied. Unlike the many shiggreth I had seen before now, this one smiled grotesquely as it spoke, making an effort to project a more human expression. The attempt only made it look more unnerving as there was something subtly off about the facial muscles.

“Very well, Timothy it is,” I answered. “How did this happen to you?”

Timothy’s eyes glittered in the light, eyes that ignored the brilliant light above, eyes that were obviously blind. “Do you want to know how the child that was called Timothy came to be like this, or how I, the being that resides in this body now, came to be an undying creature of the void?”

The distinction was obvious and yet it hadn’t occurred to me before, and the answer to either question would be of interest once I considered it. “Both,” I said loudly.

“You are bold to come here demanding answers Mordecai. What would you offer in exchange for that information?” said the undead boy.

“I didn’t come to barter. I came to clean this den of the filth residing in it. It is your choice whether you wish to delay that reckoning by answering my questions,” I responded.

Timothy laughed… a dry rasping sound that set my teeth on edge. “You make several erroneous assumptions wizard. Your first is that you are capable of threatening me. Your second is that I do not have information more valuable to you than your own life. Your ancestor was similarly ignorant.”

The implication that this thing had once spoken to one of my ancestors was unsettling. Even worse I suspected it was telling the truth, in which case I had to wonder why it was more interested in talking than adding me to its collection of walking corpses. “I have nothing to give. What sort of information would you have that might interest me?”

It smiled again in its disturbing way. “I see you might be civilized. I propose we exchange questions, one for one, until one of us refuses to answer.”

I gnawed my lip in uncertainty, but eventually I came to a decision. “Fine, answer my first question and I will exchange questions and answers with you.”

“Which part of that question?” it asked me cleverly.

“All of it, in both senses, if you would show good faith in this game,” I shot back immediately.

Timothy frowned, “You drive a hard bargain but I will answer, even though that is truly two answers. Timothy, the human boy became this way when Millicenth drew his spirit out and opened the way from the void for me to enter. She did this using the man you know as Father Tonnsdale as her agent, what you would call a ‘channeler’.” It paused after that, as if unsure how to continue.

The statement that Millicenth, the goddess of the dawn had been directly involved in the recreation of the shiggreth was a shock to me as I had previously assumed it to be the work of Mal’goroth, but I hid my surprise. “And the rest of your answer?” I said prodding it verbally.

“I used my art to hide my spirit in the void, to escape the genocide of your treacherous ancestor. I remained trapped there until Balinthor released us a thousand years or so ago, and then I was trapped again another thousand years or more until Millicenth called me out into this body,” it replied carefully.

“For what purpose do you return from that ‘void’?” I asked.

“That is a separate question. I believe it is my turn human,” Timothy replied. “Have you ever heard of ‘Illeniel’s Promise’?”

That was simple enough, “No.” I followed with the only question that really mattered to me, “Why did you ambush the kidnappers that were sent for my family?”

Its answer was immediate, “To gain favor with the king or a lever against you. Have you fully explored the Illeniel house in Albamarl?”

I answered quickly, “No.” The question struck me as odd, for it indicated an unhealthy interest in the Illeniels. Taken with the previous question I couldn’t help but wonder what the shiggreth wanted. It made choosing my next question even more difficult. “How does killing my family gain favor with the king?”

Timothy snorted, or tried to; in the end he only succeeded in seeming even more disturbing. “You ask stupid questions human. You squander your information. Killing your family does not help us gain favor with your king, or a lever against you for that matter.”

My blood pressure was rising quickly, “Then why did you kill them?!” I shouted.

The monster held up one small boyish hand, “My question mortal, and do not test my patience. Does the phrase ‘Illeniel’s Doom’ mean anything to you?”

I bit down on my anger and forced myself to think. Fear and rage were clouding my mind and I could see that I was missing some obvious conclusions. “Yes, Celior warned me that it would destroy everything. I haven’t a clue yet what it is.” As I finished answering my mind snapped into motion and I realized I had been a fool. “Where is my wife?”

It smiled wickedly, and for once it got the expression right. “She arrived at Albamarl yesterday. Where she is now I have no way of knowing,” the creature paused thoughtfully before continuing, “It seems you do have a brain after all. I had begun to despair of you ever thinking clearly. If Illeniel’s Doom was hidden in Albamarl where would you think to look for it?”

My mind was racing at the revelation that Penny was still alive. I don’t know that, he might have been referring to her body, I corrected myself mentally. Still the implication was that she was alive… as a bargaining piece. A bargain with whom? “It would depend upon who last possessed it, otherwise I would have no clue where to start,” I said, answering its question. “What bargain did you make with King Edward?” It was a risky question, for it was possible that it had been someone else, in which case I had wasted a turn. If my guess was correct though, it had saved me a question or two.

After an interminable pause the thing spoke, “We offered him your wife and her guardian in exchange for Illeniel’s Promise, which you have heard called Illeniel’s Doom. Do you think he can deliver upon his end of the bargain?”

“No,” I replied honestly, “I doubt he has any idea what or where it may be. Why didn’t you seek to deal with me directly?”

The thing that Timothy had become laughed, “Judging by your entry here I doubted we could have a meaningful discussion. The King needed a lever to control you and with it he claimed he could force you to deliver that which we seek.” It stared at me for a long minute, “Why did you come here?”

“To destroy you,” I said plainly. “Why do you want ‘Illeniel’s Promise’?”

“To restore my race,” it replied simply. “Is there anything we can offer you if you find it?”

A chill raced up my spine before being replaced with a surge of adrenalin. Our conversation was nearly at an end and I could feel the creature’s anticipation radiating toward me, an almost palpable hunger. I bared my teeth, “I’d rather be damned than deal with you, nor will you walk free from this place. The shiggreth are not a race, you are a creation, and one that must be undone.”

It frowned. “You are wrong mortal. We created ourselves in a last act of desperation. We are the spirits of the She’har.” As it spoke it brought up its hand and began weaving signs I could not recognize though I saw the arcane symbols forming in the air.

I was prepared already and pointing my staff at it I spoke, “Pyrren thylen!” and a focused line of fire and power struck the abomination before me. It was a spell I had used before, and in combination with my staff it had sliced easily through channelers shields in the past yet this time it scattered and fizzled as it struck the glowing symbols that hung in the air between us. Timothy began laughing as my face registered shock and dismay.

The undead monstrosities beside him had not remained idle; they had leapt forward only to be met by Harold’s swords. He ducked a massive sweeping paw from one and removed its foreleg at the shoulder. Spinning back he turned to meet the other but it had moved with unexpected speed and it caught him solidly. This time he was flung like a ragdoll and sent hurtling into the far wall. He struck with a resounding clamor and I wondered if he could recover. At the very least he had to be reeling inside his armor.

I had no time to think however, for the child-like creature I faced was already weaving more signs. The symbols writhed in the air as if they were made of living blue fire. Twisting they stretched toward me rapidly, spreading and seeking to enfold my shield like a net. It stopped them for a moment before I felt them burning inward, eating at the power that I had formed my shield with and causing it to sag. It was an odd sensation, at once similar to the physical touch of the shiggreth and yet this touch ate away at only my magical strength.

I had mere seconds to react. Seeing my failure to harm it directly I changed tactics and turned my power directly upon the ground beneath it, “Grabol ni’targoth,” I said quickly, opening a hole in the earth beneath the childlike creature. It was a spell I had used once to incapacitate Cyhan and it worked just as well here as it had then. The undead spellcaster fell into the hole and the magic eating at my shield vanished as it lost its concentration.

I spoke another word to close the hole and trap it within the earth and then I turned my attention to the great bear that was bearing down upon me. “Pyrren thylen,” I said again and this time my magical fire tore into its target, slicing the undead beast into two large and smoldering pieces. I felt a surge of exultation as it fell apart and I turned to finish the other monster lumbering toward me on its three remaining legs. Then the light I had conjured above went out and the subterranean chamber was plunged into darkness.

“Did you think I would be so easily trapped?” came Timothy’s soft words in my ear as it dropped catlike down from the ceiling above. It had escaped my pit before it closed and it now stood directly behind me, so close I could smell the unnatural state of its flesh. My shield had vanished, utterly absorbed by its close physical presence and now the creature’s hand fell upon my bare neck.

The world vanished, replaced by a black void and a dark wind. The wind was hungry and it tore at me, drawing me into the emptiness that stretched before me. I fluttered in that wind, but try as I might I could find no purchase to stop my inexorable slide into oblivion. In the distance I heard Harold’s voice screaming something. It was too faint to understand, but I could only assume the bear had found him.

Then the world returned to me in a rush. It was still black to my normal vision, but my magesight could see Harold holding the void wrapped form of a small child, kicking and struggling pathetically in his strong grasp. I scrambled backward across the floor to gain space and then my hand landed upon my staff.

Drawing myself up to my feet I ignored my exhaustion and created a new light above us. The new illumination made it even clearer what had happened. In the darkness Harold had fought and dismembered the remaining bear. One of his swords still lay on the ground near its mutilated hind quarters. Now that he could see again he was preparing to strike the undead child in his vice-like grip with the other sword. It was a sight that made me want to cheer.

Unfortunately the creature that now called itself Timothy had not given up yet. As Harold drew his arm back to slice it in two one of its arms traced more symbols of blue fire and they raced across Harold’s enchanted armor, smoking and burning wherever they found a gap that led inward to human flesh. With a scream of pain and anger he threw the small body of our enemy across the cavern to land some twenty feet away. “Damn you!” he screamed in anger. I had to agree with his sentiment.

Raising my staff I sent fire streaming toward it, hoping to burn it to ashes before it could raise another protective barrier. My aim was off however and the thing leapt from the ground with blinding speed before I could strike again. It ran toward me faster than my eyes could track and yet before it could reach me Harold was there, blocking its path and striking out with the one sword that remained to him. His aim was true and one of the thing’s arms went flying to the side before it could scramble away.

“Ha!” Harold yelled challengingly. “Not so brave when faced with honest steel are you?”

Honest enchanted steel, I added mentally, but I didn’t think it was really appropriate to mention at that point. “Stay close to me, I’ll try to burn it from a distance,” I told him instead.

The abomination that occupied Timothy’s body had had enough. Before I could aim another strike it darted away, fleeing into the tunnel that led back the way we had come.

“Walter!” I yelled in warning, “It’s coming from behind you!” A loud explosion answered my cry and a thunderous roar followed. Walter had brought down the tunnel. Dust filled the air and we waited for what seemed an eternity for the rumbling of falling rock to cease.

When the dust had settled the three of us were trapped inside the cavern, with no open route to the surface. The tunnel that Walter had collapsed had been the only way in or out. Thankfully Walter had hidden his presence and the creature had merely run past him. For now, we were alone.

“What now?” Harold asked, breaking the silence that had fallen over us.

I opened my pouch and drew out the silver stylus that was quickly becoming my favorite tool. It would be much easier to create the teleportation circle using it rather than my hands or staff. I held it up dramatically and looked at my tired and emotionally drained companions. Fear is one of the most exhausting emotions. For some reason their weariness sparked my perverse sense of humor. “With this,” I began dramatically, “we can cut our way through the rock and take the enemy from behind!” I grinned and waited for their reactions.

Walter couldn’t even reply, his jaw simply fell open. Harold was more pragmatic, wiping his sword blades off he sheathed them before commenting… “How did Dorian survive childhood with you?”

I decided to revise my previous estimation of Harold; he was definitely developing a nasty case of sarcasm. “I was joking. Give me half an hour and I’ll have us back in Lancaster.”

“Why not take us back to the Duke’s camp?” asked the burly warrior.

I shrugged, “I can’t. There isn’t a circle there.”

“If you leave a circle here that thing may be able to use it,” Walter pointed out.

I opened my magical pouch again and this time I drew a set of two small round objects wrapped together in a small square of paper, one made of glass and the other of iron. “These are a matched set,” I told him. “I created a lot of these for the war with Gododdin but I still keep a few handy. They are similar to the necklace I put on you a while back. Smash the glass bead and the iron one explodes. I’ll place the iron one near the circle before we teleport away. Once we’re safely in Lancaster I’ll smash the glass bead and destroy the circle.” I smiled smugly; I was rather pleased with myself for thinking up such a neat solution. Honestly though I hadn’t thought it up on the spot, I had spent some time considering such problems after some channelers had used one of my previous circles to invade Castle Cameron.

Harold whistled appraisingly, “Dorian was right.”

“About what?” I asked.

“He said you were too dangerous to be allowed to run free without a babysitter,” he explained.

“Was this when he explained why you were being stuck with guarding me?”

Harold grinned and nodded but Walter interrupted before we could say anything else. “Excuse me…” he said mildly. Once he was sure we had paused he continued, “How many of these explosive devices do you carry about on your person? Aren’t you worried you’ll trip and blow us all to bits of bone and jam?”

I chuckled at his odd turn of phrase. It was a valid question though, especially since I hadn’t shown him my special pouch. I drew it out again and opened the top. Rather than explain I demonstrated by pushing my arm into the bag. Although it appeared to be no more than eight inches deep I was easily able to put my arm into it until my shoulder reached the mouth of the purse. From his perspective it now appeared as if most of my arm had been amputated. “I keep all my dangerous surprises stored far from my person,” I informed him.

The look on his face was priceless, but I didn’t say anything else. I got busy working on our way out. I didn’t think any of us wanted to spend any more time in our subterranean prison.