Martin Hengst - The Darkest Hour

Move they did, deeper and deeper into the frozen void under the mountain. Zarfensis was beginning to feel a familiar presence in the back of his head. The feeling that his consciousness wasn’t alone, that there was someone sharing his thoughts. It was the same feeling that came from the depths of the Deep Oracle’s chambers.

He said nothing, and they moved on.

Tiadaria held up her hand, going rigid. Wynn stopped instantly behind her, head cocked to one side, straining to hear what might have alerted her. The apprentice heard it too, the low, growling rumble that was the Xarundi approximation of speech. They had no way of knowing what they were saying and Wynn suspected that they probably wouldn’t have wanted to know anyway. What he did know was that it was close. Too close. He felt sweat trickle down his side from under his arms, though the cavern was below freezing.

He settled back on his haunches, relying on the metal spikes strapped to his boots to keep him from sliding across the mirror-like surface of the floor. He doused the wisp he had summoned and they crouched there in the dark, listening. It sounded as if the Xarundi were moving deeper into the tunnel complex. Wynn summoned a smaller wisp, a barely glowing orb of light that illuminated their faces and nothing more.

“I think they’re moving on,” he whispered, the words barely a movement of breath behind his lips. Tiadaria nodded, but said nothing. She too had dug her spikes into the floor, ready for battle at a moment’s notice.

Wynn was thankful for Faxon’s planning, even as he wished that the elder quintessentialist was with them. They had gone through the packs at the hunting lodge, selecting only the items that would be absolutely necessary on their pursuit of the relic. They had found three sets of spiked straps for their boots. Thankfully, Tiadaria had immediately recognized their use and purpose. Wynn would have been lost without her.

Tia motioned to the wisp and made an expanding gesture with her hands. Wynn nodded, mumbling the spell that would enlarge the wisp and light their area of the tunnel. If Tiadaria wanted more light, he was fairly certain that any imminent danger of encountering the Xarundi was past.

“I’m pretty sure they’ve moved further in,” she said, her voice the barest murmur over the subtle cracking and pinging of the ice around them. “We’ll give them another few minutes to pass on.”

Wynn wanted to point out that every moment they remained stationary was another in which they might freeze to death, but he prudently remained silent. When Tiadaria was in what he referred to as battle mode, he knew better than to introduce what she would often deride as superfluous details.

Tia unwound from her crouch, checking the straps on her sword belt and on the pack. It was an unconscious habit and one that Wynn had adopted from watching her. Not that the holster did him much good. The ironwood staff hadn’t left his hand since they set foot in the cavern. The ironwood was certainly living up to its name. The staff felt cold as ice, even through the fur-lined inner of his winter gloves.

She motioned them forward and Wynn nodded. He noticed her customary checks of his gear and dismissed them with a sigh. He knew that he had given her enough reason to question his readiness for combat, but when she did those quick, quiet checks of his kit, he couldn’t help but to feel like a child. She never corrected anything though, so either he was doing alright, or she didn’t want to hurt his feelings. Hah. As if.

They encountered a blind corner and Tia pressed her back against the wall, peering around the edge into the darkness. Sending the wisp on ahead was out of the question. Any benefit they might gain from the light would be negated if they gave away their pursuit too early. Seeing nothing within the radius of the light that seemed threatening, she gave Wynn the go ahead and they turned the corner.

A few steps forward and the light of the wisp was thrown over the familiar shape of a Xarundi, low to the ground. Wynn let out a startled yelp and Tia clamped her hand over his mouth before he could expand on that ill-advised exclamation. As it was, his cry echoed down the corridor, bouncing off the walls for what seemed like minutes.

“They’re dead already,” she hissed at him, eyes flashing. “Which is what we’re going to be if you don’t keep quiet.”

Wynn’s cheeks went red but he said nothing. Couldn’t, in fact, as her hand was still pressed firmly over his mouth. She glared at him for a moment longer and then removed her hand. Morbid curiosity got the better of Wynn and he commanded the wisp closer to the bodies so that he could get a better look. They had been frozen in place for what he guessed was probably hundreds of years. The soft tissues were desiccated and withdrawn, with patches of bone showing through here and there. He knew the importance of keeping quiet, but he gave himself a break. Anyone not trained for this sort of thing would have been startled coming upon something like that. He wasn’t sure Faxon would have fared any better.

“Do you feel that?” Tiadaria asked in hushed tones, taking her hand from his mouth. It felt like something was inside her head, as if someone was standing behind her, looking over her shoulder, or out through her eyes. She shuddered. “It feels like something’s watching us, from inside.”

“I know.” Wynn nodded. The sensation had started when they entered the cavern and had only gotten more pronounced the deeper they went. “Whatever it is, it’s deeper in. Nothing left of these two, living or undead.”

Tia spared the corpses a moment’s consideration and then set off again, heading deeper into the corridor. Wynn caught up to her in short order, the wisp bobbing along behind him.

* * *

Xarundi hearing was nearly as keen as their eyesight, so when the echo of a faint cry bounced from wall to wall, they all turned toward the sound, their ears upright. Zarfensis recognized the character of the voice. There were vermin pursuing them through the tunnels. Quickly slipping into sphere-sight, he cast back along the way they had come. Just passed the corpses of their fallen brothers, there was a shimmer in the ether. It was the Swordmage. He was certain of it.

“We’re being followed,” he growled, not bothering to lower his voice. Let the vermin hear them. Let them know that their death was coming with sharp claws and rending fangs. The warriors were instantly alert at his statement, powerful muscles bunching in anticipation of the hunt.

“Shall we intercept Your Holiness?”

Zarfensis held up a hand. “Not yet brothers. Time is of the essence. Let us see how skilled these vermin are before we commit to fighting them. They may prove not to be worthy of fighting the Chosen’s finest warriors.”

Though displeased at being stayed, the warriors preened at the implied compliment. They relaxed somewhat, watching the High Priest and waiting to see what Zarfensis had in store for the vermin snapping at their heels.

Zarfensis slipped into the Quintessential Sphere and began to manipulate the forces there. From the walls of the cavern, he pulled large ice crystals, forming towering monsters of frozen water. When the bodies were formed, he called on the power of the Dyr, the Rune of Death, to imbue the forms with the singular desire to kill and destroy. Anything to feed the hunger of the rune.

The ice elementals took on a glowing blue fire that danced across the surface of the constructs without harming them. Zarfensis willed them up the tunnel, in the direction of the Swordmage and her companions. They moved slowly at first, as if uncertain of their mission, then, as the spell reached its completion, they began to move more fluidly, the ground beneath the Xarundi’s feet quaking with the impacts of the elementals as they pounded relentlessly toward their prey.