Jeff Inlo - Nightmare's Shad

"And maybe it will just kill a different swallit. It has to eat."

Ryson didn't like that response. There was truth to it, and maybe by saving this swallit he was, in fact, dooming another, but he could not simply standby and do nothing.

As if sensing the delver's decision before he made it, the elf ghost spoke the only words that could keep the delver still.

"Would you leave your woman unprotected? Who knows what might come out next? Perhaps a hook hawk looking for prey. While you are busy engaged with those beasts, will you be able to keep track of other threats?"

Ryson looked back at Linda and knew he could not leave her side, not so close to a doorway to such danger.

He was about to give up, but then he thought of the sorceress.

"You can cast white magic! Send the shag back!"

Heteera hesitated. She sat motionless in the saddle.

"Do it!" Ryson demanded.

The sorceress threw her hands together, closed her eyes in concentration. A distorted shape of white magic rolled about her wrists. There were points and curves in the oblong contour of magic that would not hold a steady form. Heteera opened her eyes and shouted strange words.

The white magic exploded from her fingertips. It was a blunt force spell that was meant to crash into the feet of the shag and hurl it backwards into the dimensional opening. It missed its mark.

It hit the rocky ground between the two monsters and the stone exploded in far greater force than the sorceress intended. Sharp broken rock burst apart in a wave of deadly debris. The shrapnel ripped through both monsters, dropping them to the ground in bloody hulks.

Ryson just stared at the mayhem below.

"I'm sorry," Heteera responded with a mournful whisper. "The power got away from me."

"Do not fret, sorceress," Lief replied stoically, as if the bloody display meant nothing to him. "You finished them both off quickly. That's more than they should have hoped for."

"The swallit didn't have to die," Ryson finally said.

"And what of the shag?" Lief asked. "Did the shag deserve less? If so, for what reason?"

"Neither of them deserved it." Ryson then looked upon Heteera with sympathy. "You didn't mean it. I know that. It wasn't your fault."

"I would agree with that," Lief added. " Fault had nothing to do with any of it." He then fixed a stare upon the delver. "Where are you going?"

Ryson had turned to move back down the slope.

"I want to check on them, make sure they're dead."

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"What? You still think something else might come out of there?"

"Something definitely will. And I wouldn't get in its way."

"I can handle a hook hawk now. There's nothing to distract me."

"You might be able to handle a hook hawk, but not this." And Lief nodded to the gateway.

Ryson stopped and refocused his gaze upon the distorted opening.

Indeed, another figure did emerge from the passage, but it was something Ryson could not identify. It did not walk, leap, stagger, or even crawl out into the dying afternoon light. Instead, it dragged itself across the ground on several twisted, distorted limbs.

The thing seemed to have several heads, but none appeared complete or easily distinguishable, just as it had several limbs that could not be identified as truly arms or legs. It was as large as a full grown man, but had no discernable form. In some areas, it was pale white, like the bleached skin of a corpse left in the sun. At other points it was dark brown and purple, oozing as if in decay. The mass pulsated in a labored manner as it edged forward.

"Dear Godson!" Linda cried, and she looked away.

She would be thankful she did when she learned the aim of this mutated mass. The thing fell upon the swallit and began tearing away at the vines that served as the beast's coat. When it reached the skin of the swallit, it peeled a portion back in one long sheet. In a most disturbing fashion, it then tore at its own repulsive hide. It pulled away at the newly broken edges of its misshapen body, making a huge gap. It quickly placed the swallit hide over its own open wound, and the new skin fused into place.

Once this macabre operation was complete, the strange mass of disproportionate flesh spun backward into the gateway, its limbs twisting and turning, quivering in disorganized imbalance. With all the grace of misshapen rock rolling down an uneven hill, the horrible mutation disappeared out of sight back into a darker land where it clearly belonged.

"The danger is gone for now," Lief announced. "I doubt anything will be coming out for quite a while. Creatures on the other side tend to steer away from my creation."

Ryson could not stifle his surprise.

"You created that?"

"With the help of your sorceress friend," Lief admitted without hesitation.

Ryson's gaze shot over to the spell caster sagging forlorn in the saddle.

"That's what you were talking about, wasn't it?"

"It's not what I intended," she pleaded, but could not look upon the delver.

Where Ryson was more than willing to forgive the errant spell that killed both the swallit and shag, he found this difficult to conceive, let alone excuse, and so he pressed for those intentions.

"What did you intend?"

She would not speak, or rather could not speak.

"She intended to remove the dark creatures from the land," Lief offered in response. "Is that so surprising to you?"

Ryson spun around to face the elf ghost.

"And how is that… that… thing! how is that going to accomplish that?"

"By collecting the magic from the dark creatures."

"Just like Ingar's sphere!" Ryson added, and to some extent the sorceress' earlier plea for help was becoming clear.

"In one way yes, but we made some alterations," Lief acknowledged.

" You made the alterations," Heteera suddenly accused the apparition. "I didn't want this. You knew what I wanted."

"Yes, and you did not want to go far enough." Lief then shook his head as if admonishing a small child. "That is why you lack control of the magic. White energy and yet you are weak where it matters. You don't see the whole picture."

"And what's the whole picture, Lief?" Ryson asked.

"You have to ask me? The dark creatures are a bane to this existence. They must be removed. The sorceress and I agreed on that point, but she did not want to go far enough. She wished to simply close off the dimension, to stop portals from opening, to keep the dark creatures from entering our land. It's not enough. They'd find a way around it, they'd find another way. And there is of course the matter of the creatures already here in the land. There is but one solution to the problem. Destroy them all, everywhere!"

"But what you created is going beyond that!" Heteera managed. "It's collecting the magic, just like Ingar's sphere. It's going to lead to greater misfortune. You have to know that."

"You concern yourself with the wrong problems," Lief said, almost with a snarl. "You look ahead to troubles that do not exist, while you ignore those that do."

"What exactly is that thing?" Ryson interrupted.

"It is a vessel," Lief explained. "And yes, it is like Ingar's sphere in that it was created to collect magic, magic that allows the dark creatures to exist. Ingar's sphere was made of the skins of the five races; elf, delver, human, algor, and dwarf. This vessel is made of the hides of dark creatures, and so, it focuses upon them. It feeds on their magic."

"Magic is magic," Ryson noted, but then did not appear so sure. "Isn't it?"

"Magical energy has more properties than you can imagine. Still, you should understand some of this. It is not so difficult to grasp that the vessel can be tuned to magic that has been utilized for a specific purpose. You have seen those who cast spells with different hues. The color of the magic matches the intention of the spell and the natural ability of the caster. There is magic of the air, of water or fire, of death."