Richard Knaak - The Fire Rose

And within the arch, something glowed a faint red.

He immediately started for the altar. Yet barely had he moved than his foot caught on something.

Golgren gazed down at another High Ogre corpse … one far more skeletal than those above. The skeleton lay sprawled headfirst toward the altar, one extended arm just touching the base of the structure.

He knew the corpse for a High Ogre, but only barely. There were too many things wrong with it.

The skull looked as if it had been stretched long, and the jaws-set in a scream-appeared fused to the skull, not loose as they should have been. Yet even that was not as unsettling as the rest of the body. The arm that reached for the altar was twisted at an odd angle and actually split at the elbow, from where two forearms, both ending in hands, began.

Unlike the mummified figures in the other chamber, the robes of the skeleton were in tatters, revealing a rib cage that was also oddly fused, as if instead of a series of ribs the High Ogre had only one massive rib on each side of its body. Yet despite that solid appearance, something had cause the center to burst open; in Golgren’s mind that event was very likely what had finished off the macabre figure.

The horrific sight caused the Grand Khan to hesitate for only a moment. Whoever the other High Ogre had been in life, he had failed in his quest. Golgren, however, had no intention of doing so. Too much had led him to that moment. He was meant to succeed.

He stepped up to the altar. The glow within the small, barred alcove increased.

Golgren put a hand to the bars.

“Let the meredrake find the trail, take from the meredrake the prey. You should know that works so well.”

Golgren did not even look behind him. “Good Safrag, the vipers found your poison too much for their delicate stomachs?”

A tremendous force threw the Grand Khan to the side, sending him spilling into the skeleton. Golgren rolled over the ancient corpse and came up with one of its arm bones in his grip. In one fluid movement he flung the bone at the Titan.

It came within inches of the sorcerer’s handsome face, but flew off in another direction as if it had bounced off an invisible wall. The bone fell against the wall to Safrag’s right with a clatter that echoed loud and long.

“You will live only long enough to witness my triumph, the Titan triumph, mongrel.” The gargantuan spellcaster beamed toothily as he glided toward Golgren and the altar. “Would you like to know what is going on with your little realm? The foundation is cracking, oh Grand Khan. Garantha has been undermined by those you thought would give their blood to you! You are betrayed at every turn, mongrel, even by your adoring slave.”

Golgren’s eyes darted past Safrag, but there was indeed no sign of Idaria. Hadn’t she been following him closely, as ever?

The Titan reached the altar. He extended a taloned hand to the bars.

“Be so very careful, good Safrag,” Golgren mocked. “You may come away with too many hands or heads.”

The spellcaster paused. He looked down at the remains of the fallen High Ogre, and glanced at Golgren. “A wonderful point, mongrel. Come, elf. I have a task for you.”

At last, Golgren spotted Idaria, her face devoid of all emotion, entering the chamber at the far end. Golgren eyed her up and down, sensing no spell, no coercion. To his astonishment, she walked over to Safrag with what seemed utter willingness.

“I will open the way, elf. You’ll remove that within, won’t you?”

“Yes, Safrag,” she replied, not looking at Golgren.

No matter how much Golgren stared, Idaria kept her eyes only on the Titan or the bars.

Safrag gestured.

The bars exploded, but the pieces did not go flying at the elf or the sorcerer. Safrag’s spell made them freeze in the air and plunge harmlessly to the ground.

But the moment that the fragments fell, the original bars reformed.

The Titan chuckled. “Clever.”

Again, the bars exploded. A blue glow filled the broken area and the bars remained shattered.

“Reach in, my lovely elf.”

Standing on her toes, Idaria stretched her ivory hands into the glowing alcove.

The elf stiffened. Both Golgren and Safrag held their breath.

Idaria pulled forth the Fire Rose.

Dazzling red and gold light radiated from the artifact as it was brought from its long resting place, forcing the two males to shield their eyes and the elf to all but close hers. The Fire Rose was roughly a foot tall and composed of a crystal that mingled gold and red. The bottom was a thick, singular stalk with six sides that extended half way up its body. The upper half consisted of nearly a dozen projections jutted upward at various angles. The resemblance to a flower-if not necessarily a rose-was obvious.

From within the artifact could be seen the other reason for its name. Deep in its core, a turbulence was swelling, dying, and swelling again. The turbulence was darker and more vibrant than any other part of the crystalline structure, and it was the ultimate source of its glow … a glow like fire.

“The glory of the High Ogres!” Safrag breathed. “The culmination of their civilization.”

“And the death of it?” added Golgren in mockery.

The Titan ignored him, instead reaching out for the Fire Rose. Idaria remained still as Safrag’s hand touched it.

Golgren felt the signet flare. Some sense of impending danger made him look back at the entrance to the chamber.

A shadow stretched there.

And gargoyles formed from the shadow.

They flew furiously at the trio, but especially at Safrag, who turned toward them just as the first reached him. The sorcerer let out a growl, and the first gargoyle turned to white ash that scattered into the beaked faces of the others behind it.

Idaria grabbed for the artifact, but the wing of another gargoyle battered her, sending the slave tumbling to the altar’s base.

Golgren seized another gargoyle from behind, using its momentum to swing him around toward Safrag. He let the beast take the brunt of the Titan’s spell, which shriveled the gargoyle into something more mummified than the High Ogre dead.

Coming up on Safrag’s blind side, the Grand Khan ripped the Fire Rose away. Safrag was knocked to the side by more gargoyles.

The signet glowed as bright as the Fire Rose, and with the exact same colors. The crystalline artifact took on an odd feeling, as if it were melting.

No, not melting. It was slowly disappearing.

Golgren reacted instinctively, trying to grab it with the hand that was no longer there. Coming to his senses, he did the only other thing that he could, thrusting the artifact into the crook of his maimed arm. Yet that only seemed to slow the vanishing.

He swung his hand, using the force of the action to fling the signet away. The ring struck the altar and fell atop Idaria.

Meanwhile, the Fire Rose solidified again. And the gargoyles turned toward Golgren. Worse, Safrag, who had been too besieged to at first to react to Golgren, had regained his poise and was fixing his angry gaze on the half-breed.

Golgren held the Fire Rose between them. He felt the Titan’s spell strike-

The crystalline artifact grew blinding. The fiery glow enveloped both the half-breed and the three gargoyles nearest him.

The gargoyles writhed and fell to the floor. They rolled onto their stomachs, and as they did so, their wings shriveled, and their bodies twisted into something ugly and more reptilian.

Three ji-baraki rose in their place, immediately attacking the gargoyles nearest Golgren. The tall, sleek reptiles stood on two long legs and slashed with savage claws at the end of their paws. They snapped and bit with long rows of teeth designed to tear apart even the toughest hide. Two gargoyles fell under their attack before others began to swarm the trio.