Richard Baker - Final Gate

“Then, with your permission, I will notify my father of our truce and await your decision about joining us against the daemonfey.”

“Yes, of course,” Selkirk said. “I will have word of the truce passed to all my commanders at once. And we will speak again soon about your bold suggestion.”

A dim sense of peril roused Araevin from a Reverie so deep and dark that he had almost begun to believe that he had died.

He struggled to wakefulness and discovered nothing but cold blackness all around him. The small lights they’d left burning in their camp had flickered out entirely during their long, cold sleep. Why didn’t someone strike a new light? he asked himself. Whoever was on watch would have needed something to see by… but did we even set a watch?

“Aillesel Seldarie,” he whispered. The cold and exhaustion must have taken their toll on his mind! How long had they been helpless in the dark?

Light, he decided. That was the first priority. He fumbled through his pockets, searching for something he could throw his light spell on. But then he heard a sound, slow and deliberate-a faint creaking of stone, a small crackle as rocks pressed against each other. It was close by, somewhere only a few feet away.

Araevin froze, not daring to move. Something prowled just outside the square doorway of the stone structure. Something large sighed, a low, rumbling sound, and the stone creaked softly again. He held his breath, trying to discern what it was that moved outside their bleak little refuge.

The thing outside paused and held still. Araevin could see nothing, but he could feel it there, the subtle strain of something that leaned against the walls, the slight stirring of the otherwise motionless air. It’s just outside the doorway, he realized. It’s right here.

His fingers closed on the disruption wand holstered at his left hip. It was a potent weapon, but he dared not discharge it unless he knew none of his friends were in the way. But he drew it out slowly just in case.

The thing outside drew in a sharp breath.

It sees me! he realized.

Without another thought, Araevin rolled to his feet. “Nharaigh lathanyll!” he cried, casting his light spell on the wand in his hands. A sudden yellow radiance filled the room, throwing stark black shadows into the corners.

A huge, misshapen face filled the square stone doorway, peering at him with great round eyes. The face was big, easily three feet from chin to brow. It was a pallid white, the eyes black and huge, the lips fleshy and loose. Crooked yellow teeth as long as Araevin’s hand glistened in its wet mouth. Then the creature screwed its eyes shut with a moan of distaste and jerked away, recoiling from the painful brightness.

“By Bane’s black hand, what in the world was that?” Jorin, who lay closest to the open door, came awake in the blink of an eye. He scrabbled back from his bedroll, a short sword already in his hand. “Damn it, who had the watch?”

Maresa, Donnor, and Nesterin struggled to awareness more slowly than the Yuir ranger. They blinked in Araevin’s light, fumbling to throw off blankets and find weapons.

“What’s going on?” Maresa mumbled sleepily.

“Something is outside,” Araevin replied, keeping his eyes fixed on the square doorway. “A giant of some kind.”

“Giant?” the genasi muttered. She found her feet and backed away from the doorway. “What do we do?”

“Wait a moment,” the sun elf said. “It recoiled from my light. Maybe it will move on.”

His companions watched the doorway nervously, straining to catch a glimpse of what waited in the blackness. Nothing happened for twenty heartbeats, and Araevin began to hope that the creature had indeed given up on them. But then a wide, spadelike hand of pallid flesh reached in from the darkness, groping and fumbling toward them.

Maresa gasped in consternation at the size of the monster, and slid away from the door. The hand was easily as broad as Araevin’s chest, with thick strong fingers as big as his forearm.

“Damn, it’s big,” she whispered.

The giant caught up a handful of Jorin’s bedroll and dragged it outside, snuffling heavily. The companions backed away from the doorway, shoulder blades pressed to the far wall. Araevin caught a quick glimpse of the monster ducking down to peer into the building again-and the giant lunged violently for him.

Araevin fell back as the giant’s fingers ground into the stone where he had been standing, splintering the rock. The creature rumbled in frustration, and grabbed wildly for Araevin again. Donnor caught hold of Araevin’s arm and dragged him back out of the way.

“Watch yourself!” the Tethyrian snapped. “We’re not likely to find another wizard down here.”

Jorin, pressed against the opposite wall of the room, frowned and leaned away as the giant groped back in his direction. He crouched low under the groping hand, but then the giant suddenly fumbled closer. Without a word Jorin fell back flat, and jammed his sword into the meat of the creature’s arm.

The giant jerked back its arm, flinging drops of blood against the doorway. It seemed to huff and whine in the darkness outside, but it did not roar, bellow, or curse as Araevin would have expected. Again stone creaked outside their small sanctuary.

“I think you drove it off,” Maresa whispered. “Good! That’ll teach it to go poking around in other people’s business.”

“I don’t think we’re that lucky,” Donnor said, shaking his head. He looked up with a small frown on his face-and the roof above his head exploded in a shower of crushed blocks and mortar dust.

With two great shoves of its thick arms, the giant cleared the top courses of stonework out of its way like a man sweeping a table clear of dishes. Araevin covered his head against the flying debris, and when he looked up again the giant towered over their broken shelter, raising a colossal hammer of stone over its head.

Nesterin’s voice rang out sharply in the darkness, and the star elf threw out a cloud of sparkling silver motes in the giant’s face. It shook its head violently, trying to clear its vision from the brilliant pinpoints. Then Araevin pointed his disruption wand at the monster’s face and barked out the command word. The cold black air sang with the shrill sound of the spell as a furious blue lance of energy slammed into the giant.

The creature reeled away, groaning… but then two more of the pale giants appeared. Hammers the size of hogsheads slammed into the old square blocks of the ledge house, knocking the place to pieces around Araevin and his friends. Donnor disappeared under a shower of masonry, while Nesterin barely dodged another block large enough to crush him like an insect.

“They’re battering the place to pieces,” the star elf cried. “We have to get out of here!”

Jorin darted through the doorway and instantly leaped aside to avoid a hammer-blow that would have driven him into the ground like a pile. Araevin waited a heartbeat for the giant outside to raise its hammer for another blow, and pushed Nesterin and Maresa out before the hulking monster could strike again. Then, rather than invite another hammer-blow, he quickly incanted the words of a flying spell and arrowed straight up through the collapsed roof.

Three of the pale giants surrounded their small safe-house. Now that he could see them entirely, Araevin found that they were horribly hunched creatures despite their great size. They went almost on all fours, with a curious hopping crouch that brought their faces down to not much higher than a human’s height. Had they been able to straighten up, they would have towered over ogres or trolls. Yet for all their awkwardness they were surprisingly quick and deft. One battered at Jorin, Nesterin, and Maresa with great sweeping blows of its hammer, driving them back. Another methodically pounded the stone building into rubble, trying to drive Donnor out or crush the human knight where he stood. The last giant stared up at Araevin in surprise, astonished to find its quarry darting through the air.