Richard Knaak - The Fire Rose

The others followed her gaze and repeated her exclamation.

Ulgrod’s robes were lying there, not in the least stained. Of the Titan himself there was nothing but a burnt outline.

Golgren ran his fingers over the carving in the wall, seeking to determine its meaning. With no light by which to see the High Ogres’ work, the Grand Khan tried to identify the various markings from memory of what he had seen before.

Golgren glanced into the dark behind him, whispering, “You are well, my Idaria?”

“I am, my lord. Thank you for binding the wound.”

“We may have need of your precious blood again.” Continuing his inspection of the wall, the Grand Khan remarked, “A fascinating idea that an elf’s blood could be so poisonous. The Titans are daring indeed.” Golgren did not ask Idaria how she had found the dagger. That was the least of his interests.

He sensed her step closer to him. “What may be poison to one may also give life, depending on how it is ministered.”

In the dark, the slave’s outline was barely discernible. “It is true that those monstrosities were of the Titans?” He had suspected that the creatures served the sorcerers, but something in what Idaria had said made him think perhaps they also had a blood relationship. “Like Donnag.”

“Like Donnag, yes.” But something in her tone lingered in the air like a question.

“And can elf blood help guide us out?” he asked Idaria.

“It cannot,” Idaria replied solemnly. “When I dared cut myself, I did so only because of some knowledge I had involving the use of blood and the transformation of the creatures who do the bidding of the Titans. I took a chance that it would work.”

She offered no other explanation. The Grand Khan did not care. He was concerned about getting out of that place alive.

They could have returned down the passage through which he had first traveled, but Golgren knew that he would find only another dead end. Perhaps Idaria knew a way. “How is it you were able to come to the tunnels? Did you follow me through?”

Idaria was silent for a moment before replying, “I searched for more than two hours to find a way in at the precise location where you vanished, my lord.”

“Two hours? So very long? And the creatures. You recall when you first saw them?”

“Barely a minute before I dared take a chance and drew the blood.”

“A curious shuffling of time,” he remarked, thinking. “It is not. Perhaps … Ah!”

They both stepped back as a golden glow erupted from the area Golgren had just touched. The half-breed and the elf watched as the glow spread like fire throughout the entire life-sized relief.

In the growing light, Golgren glanced at his hand. There were no traces of blood upon it, as he had thought there would be. The Grand Khan had been certain that some remnant of the elf’s blood was responsible for the flaring light.

If not Idaria’s blood, what?

He gazed again upon the magically illuminated relief. And recognized there was something wrong with it.

It was not the symbols and markings and the Ogres that he had glimpsed during the struggle with the monstrosities. Instead it was one vast scene with eight robed High Ogres casting a spell on what appeared to be a burning flower turned upside down. The casters themselves appeared to be surrounded by bright coronas.

Framing all that was a specific setting: mountains, great buildings with sharp, jutting towers, a river, and odd animals that looked like crosses between various, more familiar species.

“Well?” asked a voice that made Golgren bare his teeth. “You wanted to enter, and so you can.”

The Grand Khan calmly turned to face Safrag .

“Dauroth did not understand that he entertained a viper in his midst,” Golgren remarked.

“How droll,” returned the Titan, striding like a god toward the two shorter figures. Safrag’s head barely missed scraping the passage’s ceiling. “We are in the vale, and thus I must be one of the legendary serpents.”

“We are in the dread valley?” murmured Idaria. “But that was still days away.”

“She is a curious slave.” Safrag kept his hands behind his back as he looked from her to Golgren. “Just as you are a curious master. Is it love? Lust? Common goals? Common betrayals?”

Sneering, Golgren returned, “And is the Titan leader so interested in the souls of others? In emotions? How caring is Safrag of others!”

“Merely curious about the workings of your confused mind, oh Grand Khan. Are you ogre or are you elf?” Before Golgren could reply again, Safrag cut him off with a wave of one hand.

A hand that flaunted the signet.

Golgren’s sneer became a veiled stare. Drawing the dagger, he took a step toward the sorcerer.

Flames surrounded him. The dagger became hot. He was forced to drop it and step back to the glowing panorama.

The dagger melted, becoming a puddle of metal and other bits.

“I shall make it clear in the very best Common, mongrel. There’s only one reason why you still live: I have not decided if you are still of need to me given that I am on the threshold of rediscovering the most powerful artifact since the Graygem!”

“I know nothing of the Graygem,” Golgren replied coldly and without fear. “And the Fire Rose will never bloom for you.”

“How poetic and pathetic.” Safrag gestured with the hand bearing the signet.

The rock behind Golgren rumbled. He looked at the wall and saw the relief had split in two, revealing a passage behind it.

“So close,” murmured Safrag. “After so many years of biding my time, serving the ignorant and the fearful.”

“Not to mention slaying your master.”

The Titan looked mildly offended. “Dauroth refused to hunt for the Fire Rose, even though all we sought could have been so easily gained from it! And, besides, another betrayed Dauroth. The rest know that.”

“And who betrayed the other?”

Safrag chuckled. “You still try to amuse.” He gestured, and the flames died away. “But you are not amusing enough. Enter, mongrel.”

Golgren stayed his ground.

The Titan was unimpressed. He extended his other hand toward Idaria.

The elf gasped. Vapors rose from her body, and her flesh started to desiccate.

The half-breed started not for her, but rather toward the new passage.

With another smile, Safrag ceased his assault on Idaria. She slipped to one knee, but the Titan immediately forced the silver-haired slave to a standing position and made her follow Golgren. He trailed after the two smaller beings.

A slight breeze caressed the Grand Khan’s face as he stepped through the cracked relief. The passage did not light up as it had when he had worn the signet. Safrag created a floating sphere of low, blue light that drifted a few feet before them, remaining constantly ahead as the trio walked.

There was also a faint golden aura around Idaria, Golgren noted, though that must have been the handiwork of the sorcerer. Curiously, no such spell covered the Grand Khan.

There was nothing inscribed on the tunnel walls, but all could sense it was no ordinary mountain passage. Safrag’s breathing grew more rapid and eager as they proceeded.

But barely had they gone more than a hundred yards when the trio came to another tunnel that branched off. Safrag ordered a pause.

Holding his fist forward so that the signet faced the two choices, the blue-skinned sorcerer commanded, “Show me the proper way!”

A plume of fire burst to life before them. A figure began to coalesce within, and faded away. The flames extinguished.

Safrag looked furious.

“Something is amiss?” Golgren innocently inquired.