Brian Kittrell - The Immortals of Myrdwyer

“Should we take some?” Brice asked, licking his lips, his fingers waggling with apparent avarice.

Laedron gazed at Tavin.

Tavin said, “If you’re looking to me for permission, it is not mine to give. These treasures were dug up by Kareth and his creations.”

“Then, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.” Brice picked up two handfuls at a time and dropped chunk after chunk into his pack.

“Not too much, Thimble.” Marac grabbed his wrist and took a piece of platinum from his hand. “You wouldn’t want to weigh yourself down. We may need you for the fight to come, and with a ton of that on your back, you’ll be of little use.”

Picking up about a pound of the stuff, Laedron glanced at Valyrie. A little wealth would help us when we return home. And a bit for the mages to rebuild the academy we so desperately need. “Take some for your father, Marac, and keep some for yourself. The rest we leave for Tavin’s people to help them rebuild what has long since been lost.”

“If I don’t make it out of this place with you, I appreciate your kindness, and I hope they put these resources to good use.” Tavin seemed to be sure that he wouldn’t emerge from the caverns alive.

“Certainly. Think nothing of it.” What else can I say? If he had something to tell me, he’s not the kind to hide it.

Tavin led them farther down the path, which was also lit by crystals similar to those Laedron had seen in the Uxidin shelter. The hall terminated at a stone desk surrounded by matching bookcases, and Laedron stopped when he was close enough to hear the scratching of a quill against parchment.

A man’s voice, a deep bellow, which Laedron thought could have come from Syril himself, called out, “Why do you disturb me? I told you not to worry me unless you found more. Have you found more?”

With a sound Laedron likened to the scattering of paper and the shuffling of feet, a man came around the bookcase that had previously obscured him from view. Laedron’s jaw dropped. Kareth , he thought, first noticing the human face and upper body, then the crystal pieces imbedded in the man’s torso, arms, and legs. The man stopped when he saw Laedron and his group, then bolted for a nearby exit, his tattered clothes and long brown hair fluttering behind him.

“Kareth!” Tavin shouted, thrusting his wand toward the man and casting a spell.

The man disappeared through the tunnel just before the bolt of lightning crashed into the wall.

Tavin took off after him.

Laedron, pursuing Tavin into the passage, glanced at the desk and shelves. An amulet forged from crystal? Drawings? Plans of some kind? What has become of this man, having been secluded for so long?

Racing down the corridor, Laedron couldn’t cast the fear from his heart, for the mere sight of Kareth instilled terror in the pit of his stomach. What lengths of madness has a man reached when he willingly deforms himself? Purposefully inserts shards of crystal into his own flesh? His horror notwithstanding, Laedron kept within a few feet from Tavin the whole way.

Tavin first, then Laedron and the others, burst into another chamber like a torrent of hellfire, out of breath and scanning the room for any signs of Kareth. Laedron was taken aback by the sight of the place. Trappers stood at intervals along the walls of the ringed room, like knights on guard by a king’s throne. Their bodies shone bright and red, and their glow overpowered the luminous crystals placed around the chamber to provide ambient light. Upon a stone platform sat a huge crystal chair, which looked like a vicar’s cathedra. Laedron could make out the lower half of Kareth’s body crouched behind the seat.

Tavin yelled, “Nowhere to run now, fiend! Come out and face us.”

Kareth stood, walked in front of the throne, then sat upon it, holding his staff, which had a shaft of what looked like pure emerald. “Am I the one who should be concerned?” He gestured at the Trappers at either side of him. “You would come into my house and, surrounded by my guardians, make threats? I thought you would have better sense than that, my dear Tavingras. It has been quite a while since we last met, but I thought better of you than that.”

“It would seem that you haven’t forgotten much since you’ve been down here in your little hole.” Tavin approached the throne, and the Trappers moved to intercept him. “Perhaps you remember your crimes? Why we might be here to see you?”

Laedron gestured for his companions to stay back, then he followed Tavin toward the throne.

“Halt,” Kareth said to the Trappers. When they didn’t obey, Kareth jerked his head back with contempt, as if he’d realized something, then donned an amulet around his neck. “I said, halt!”

The Trappers stopped in their tracks, and the red glow dimmed. The amulet. He uses it to control them?

Smiling, Tavin asked, “Struck a nerve, did I?”

“You were there, Tavingras,” Kareth said, his anger apparent. “You know why I had to do what I did.”

“ Had to? No, I think not.” Tavingras gave Kareth a glare that dripped with condescension. “I can think of nothing that could justify your murder of the Elder Priest. What would you have me believe? That she attacked you when she appointed Harridan to succeed her? You killed the Far’rah out of envy and jealousy.”

“I loved her, Tavingras, and she betrayed that love.” Kareth’s voice echoed with an ache that only an immortal could hold, a pain that had tortured its victim for years, centuries, as if it had been inflicted anew each day.

The revelation must have been a shock to Tavin because he stood speechless, his mouth gaping.

Finally, Kareth said, “You couldn’t understand, for you never knew the truth. Your master, the one you now call Far’rah, stole my love’s heart and my future. That is what you and your people are good for, Tavingras. Perfect little followers to liars and thieves.”

Tavin shook his head. “You lie.”

Kareth leaned forward in his seat. “In the middle of his own kingdom, a king tells the truth, for who would oppose him? What need would be sated by speaking falsehoods?”

“You mean to trick me. You lie because you are afraid-”

“Afraid?” Kareth let out an unnerving, sinister cackle that resounded from every corner of the cave. “What do I have to fear from one of Harridan’s toadies and a handful of children? Come now, Tavingras. I thought you remembered me better than that. Or do you mean to be disrespectful for disrespect’s sake?”

“If you’re not lying, then what do you hope to accomplish here? Why do you build these crystal abominations and loose them upon the forest? She’s dead, Kareth. You’ve taken your revenge upon her.”

“To punish you and your kind, nothing more. To revisit the suffering you’ve caused me until none of you draw breath. For what reason did you think?”

“To build your own empire from our bones?”

“Ha! You would like to think that, wouldn’t you? Had we spent more time together, you might have had an opportunity to truly know me, Tavingras.”

“I know you well, murderer, but you seem to have grown comfortable in your cave.” Tavin raised his wand at Kareth. “I’ve come quite a long way since we last met, and before you die, I want to impress that upon you.”

“I think you’ll find that we’ve both learned a few new tricks.” Standing, Kareth took his staff in both hands. “Is it to be only you and I, or will these others join our little game?”

Tavin looked over his shoulder. “Keep back. Whatever happens, do not interfere until one of us is dead.”