Ring of the Or'tux, page 33
“You are correct,” acknowledged Father Thomas. Removing his robe’s collar from in front of his face, he took a hesitant breath which resulted in giving him a nauseated expression and a slight green pallor.
Hunter on the other hand wasn’t ready to face the full brunt of the odor and kept his hands firmly in place. “We’re not going in there are we?” he asked.
Larus moved to stand next to Father Thomas and pushed the door open the remainder of the way. As the door continued to open and the light filled the room, he knew they would. For the light revealed a tomb sitting prominently in the center of the small circular room. And sitting atop the tomb with its eyes staring toward the doorway in which they stood, was another crystalline arachnid.
The tomb sat upon a rectangular block of stone. The block of stone was in turn surrounded by wavy fronds growing from out of a pool of dark liquid. Circular and filling the entire room but for a small foot and half path along the walls, the pool of dark liquid seemed to draw the torch’s light toward itself.
But perhaps the most ominous facet of the room was the fact that the fronds were moving as if blowing from a wind, a wind that was nonexistent. Ripples of waves would slowly make their way across the small field of fronds, each having their start in disparate locations.
“Creepy,” mumbled Hunter.
“You could say that,” agreed Larus. Turning to Father Thomas, he saw the priest staring intently at the waving fronds. “Is it safe to enter?”
“I would think so,” he replied. “Shank had to have entered to harvest his weed. And the fact that he survived would indicate we will too.” He glanced to Larus and saw him move to step into the room. “Still, I would advise against disturbing anything.”
Larus nodded and stepped onto the narrow path circumventing the room. On the far side sat another exit, a darkened arched opening which he began moving around the dark pool toward. As he reached the halfway point, he glanced over to the arachnid sitting atop the tomb and could see where its back half had been shattered. Most of its thorax and four legs were missing.
From behind him he heard Hunter ask, “Why didn’t those who destroyed the Or’tux also destroy the tombs?”
“Respect for the dead I would imagine,” replied Larus. “Even the dead of the enemy demand a certain amount of respect and honor.” He paused a moment before adding, “For the most part.”
Nodding, Hunter gazed toward the tomb, wondering who it might be that was within. A noble? Priest? Could there be a curse in place for those who disturbed these men’s rest as there was rumored to be in ancient Egypt? A shiver ran through him at the thought of some mummy coming after them. If only they had a cat. Hurrying to catch up with Larus, he did so just as Larus reached the arched opening.
It was the beginning of a short passage which ended at another room, larger than the first. There they found two of the tombs encircled by the dark liquid and wavy fronds. Each of the tombs also bore the remnants of a crystalline arachnid. On one there was but three stubs of legs, whereas the other was missing the head.
The tombs within their circular areas of fronds sat side by side with a walkway running between them. Along the outer fringe of the room ran a stone walkway as encountered previously. Another dark opening loomed on the far side of the central walkway.
“Wouldn’t destroying those spiders atop the tombs be considered a desecration of the dead?” wondered Hunter.
Larus nodded. “I would think so,” he agreed.
“Then why would they do it?” Hunter asked. “If as you say they felt respect for the dead?”
“Anger maybe?” he replied. “Retaliation for the destruction of the original High Temple? People do things when under the onus of strong emotions that they would not otherwise.”
Father Thomas, after receiving the translation said, “Who is to say this was done by those who destroyed the Or’tux people? For all we know, Bellion Shank could have done it, or perhaps another with a grudge against them.”
Hunter could see the logic in the priest’s argument.
After a brief visual inspection of the room, Larus started across the walkway running between the two tombs. With fronds waving on either side of him, he had to take extra care in ensuring the fronds did not touch him since the walkway was barely two feet wide. For some reason, the thought of being touched by them made his skin crawl.
He still didn’t know what they were doing there, but it felt right that they were. Even Father Thomas agreed that this was where the crystalline arachnid had led. Larus had been slightly on edge ever since Father Thomas announced they were not alone. Saying there was a ‘presence’ was a bit vague, but centuries of dealings with humans had given him a respect for their innate senses, especially those called to the priesthood. There was little doubt that in his original Qyaendri state, he too would be aware of this presence.
Once at the arched opening, the torch’s light revealed a junction ahead where another passage crossed theirs. Moving forward, he came to stand at the junction. The passages moving to the right and left both opened up onto other rooms not far from where he stood. Within he could barely make out the outline of tombs similar to the ones already encountered. The passage which continued straight ahead passed out of the torch’s range.
Turning back to Hunter he asked, “Straight ahead?”
“As good as any,” shrugged Hunter.
Looking to Father Thomas, he asked the same question.
After a moment’s contemplation, he nodded. “We can always come back to these,” he said.
“That presence you feel wouldn’t by chance be down there would it?” he asked, indicating the passage ahead.
“Possible I suppose,” replied Father Thomas. “I feel it as an echo in the background. It is neither close nor far away, simply there, all around us.” He shook his head. “I am afraid it is a bit hard to explain.”
“Well,” began Larus, “just make sure you holler if you feel it change in any way.”
“I shall,” agreed the priest. “So far, it has remained constant.”
“Good,” grunted Larus. Then turning back to the passage stretching out before them, he raised the torch and moved into it.
This passage continued straight for twenty feet before coming to another cross passage. Just as at the previous one, they could see rooms with tombs down to their right and left. Ahead, the passage continued on into darkness.
Larus gave the two rooms a cursory glance before continuing to follow what he had begun to think of as the ‘main’ passage. Once past the junction, it continued on for a good fifty feet before reaching a point where the torch’s light began illuminating another room.
As they drew closer, they saw how this room was larger than any of the other tomb-bearing rooms. Upon reaching the end of the passage, Larus brought them to a halt as the light from the torch revealed four tombs lined up in a row before them, each with their own circle of dark liquid and waving fronds. Only this time, the fronds were more than twice the size of any they had yet encountered.
Rising tall from the pool of dark liquid, the fronds stood almost three feet high and each was the width of a man’s hand at its widest. Unlike the other tomb rooms they had passed through, this one did not have stone walkways allowing passage between the tombs, nor were there walkways around the outer fringe of the room. The stone separating one dark pool from its neighbor had a width of less than three inches.
But the four tombs and large fronds was not the most striking aspect of this room. Instead, it was the single tomb lying upon a raised stone platform beyond the four tombs, and the wall above it.
Intricately carved and adorned with gems, the tomb was a dazzling sight in the light of the torch. Atop the tomb sat a crystalline arachnid, larger than any yet seen. From where they stood it didn’t appear as if it had suffered any damage as had the others.
Five other of the smaller crystalline arachnids stood sentinel in an arch upon the wall above the gem encrusted tomb. Inscriptions within the confines of the arachnid formed arch appeared to be some sort of religious symbol, though composed primarily of small circles and squiggly lines, as a whole there seemed to be some sort of a pattern to the design. Also, their eyes had a hard time focusing on it just like the stone table they had encountered earlier.
Hunter’s breathing began growing labored as he stood just within the room. Gazing across to the five crystalline arachnids that glistened in an arch upon the far wall, he felt fear that had been locked deep within surge forth.
Buried memories accompanied the fear, making their presence known as they fought for supremacy with his conscious mind. His mind fought back, sweat beaded and streamed down his face, but the memories were not to be denied.
Light dying. Darkness welling. Hope lost.
Do you have it?
A question out of the dark recesses. A kernel of hope.
Do you have it?
A besieged city, a guard.
No longer within the bowels of the Or’tux temple, he once again stood upon the wall. Looking out over the darkness seeking to enter, fear nearly stole his reason.
“Do you have it?” shouted the guard.
The voice broke the spell fear had over him and was able to turn away from the darkness. There before him stood a guard dressed in plain armor bearing the emblem of a five star arc emblazoned across his chest.
Screams of terror broke the night as he locked gazes with the guard. From somewhere nearby, a loud crashing noise came as a projectile hurled out of the darkness struck the outer side of the wall.
“Do you have it?” demanded the guard.
Hunter was about to answer when a crack formed beneath the guard’s feet. He gazed in horror as black, acidic ooze emerged from the crack and began enveloping the guard’s feet. As the ooze worked its way up the guard’s torso, a scream tore from the man’s throat, “Do…you…have…it?”
Around him the wall was shattering. More globules of ooze surged through the cracks, devouring everything it touched. Everywhere there were screams. The last thing he saw before the black ooze completely swallowed the guard was the five stars emblazoned upon his breast.
Whack!
“Hunter!” shouted Larus. When he failed to respond, Larus struck him across the face again.
“I don’t have it!” Hunter wailed just before his eyes rolled up in his head and collapsed.
Chapter 25
Voices speaking in an unintelligible language was the first thing Hunter knew. As consciousness returned, he discovered his hands and ankles were bound. The voices grew clearer and soon realized Larus and Father Thomas were speaking quietly to one another not far from where he lay on a cold stone floor.
Opening his eyes, he could see the flickering torchlight from where it sat wedged in a cracked section of wall near Larus’ head. He wasn’t sure where they were until the wavy fronds growing from the black pools caught his attention. Then it came back to him. They were still within the Or’tux temple.
He must have moved or given some other sign that he had awoken for the other two ceased talking and turned toward him. “Hunter?” asked Father Thomas.
“Yeah,” he replied through a mouth as dry as cotton. “What happened?”
Getting up, they walked over to him. Larus looked upon him with concern in his eyes. “You had another episode,” he explained.
Moving his bound wrists, Hunter asked, “Is that why my wrists are tied?”
Larus nodded. “We were afraid you might accidentally hurt yourself,” he explained. Kneeling down at his side, he looked into Hunter’s eyes, searching.
Hunter put up with the examination for only a short time before asking, “Can you untie me now?”
“Of course,” replied Larus.
Soon, Hunter’s hands and feet were free. Sitting up, he rubbed them as he looked at the other two. Both showed nothing but concern for him. “So…what happened exactly?” he asked.
“We’ve been discussing that since it happened,” explained Larus. “As near as we can figure, shortly after you walked into the room, you froze. Then tried to walk into that.” Pointing, he directed Hunter’s attention to the nearest group of fronds growing out of a dark pool.
A shiver went through him at the thought of contact with those waving fronds.
“We stopped you and tried to bring you around,” continued Larus. “Just before you passed out you shouted, ‘I don’t have it’.
“I don’t have it?” queried Hunter. “Why would I say that?”
“You don’t remember?” asked Larus.
“I…,” he began then stopped. There was something. “I don’t have it,” he mumbled to himself in an attempt to make the words spark a recollection. “I don’t have it.” Turning his attention back to Larus he asked, “Is that all I said?”
Larus nodded. Pointing to a spot not two feet away he said, “You were standing there immobile for over a minute before making the attempt to enter the fronds. Father Thomas believes it has to do with why we are here.”
“That would make sense wouldn’t it?” stated Hunter. “I don’t have it,” he mumbled again. Gazing to the spot where he stood immobile, he tried to recall what happened. But the last thing he remembered was entering the room and the four tombs standing in line before him. “I don’t have it,” he said again, and a vague memory came to the fore of another person.
Larus and Father Thomas remained silent as Hunter worked it out. Standing up, he crossed over to the place where he had stood immobile. Immediately, Larus came to his side. “I don’t think there is anything to worry about now,” Hunter assured him.
Giving him a half grin and a shrug, Larus remained where he was.
“So,” Hunter said turning toward the room’s entrance, “we came in there and I walked to here and then stopped.” Seeing Larus nod, he turned with his back to the entrance and looked toward the tombs.
“I would have looked out upon those four tombs,” he said as he gazed upon each one in turn. “And then I would have…” Growing quiet, he felt something, a tremor of nervousness when he gazed over the four tombs toward the wall on the far side. The sparkle of the five crystalline arachnids caused the nervousness to grow.
“Hunter?” Larus said quietly.
“I’m okay,” he replied as he glanced toward him. Giving Larus a grin of reassurance, he turned his gaze back toward the wall.
Larus watched him carefully as he stared in silence. When a bead of sweat formed on Hunter’s brow, he gestured for Father Thomas to come closer. As Father Thomas took position on the other side of Hunter, Larus asked, “What do you see.”
A shake of the head was the only answer forthcoming.
“Is it the…darkness?” asked Larus. A sudden intake of breath from Hunter said Larus knew he may be on to something.
“Whatever we do,” Father Thomas said to Larus, “we cannot allow him to lose consciousness if we wish him to remember. We have to know what is going on in there if we are to help him.”
Larus nodded. Returning his attention to Hunter, he saw that Hunter’s breathing had quickened and sweat had begun to form in earnest. “Hunter?” Larus asked.
Hunter’s eyes flicked to him and a trace of intelligence could still be seen. Reaching out, Larus laid a comforting hand on Hunter’s shoulder and could feel him trembling. As Hunter’s gaze began to turn from him back toward the wall, he said in a commanding voice, “Hunter, keep your eyes on me!” With relief, he saw Hunter swivel his eyes back toward him.
“Keep focused on me,” Larus demanded.
Ever so slightly, Hunter nodded. Somewhere behind those eyes, he knew that Hunter was at least partially elsewhere.
“Now,” Larus said, eyes locked with those of Hunter, “what are you supposed to have?” This was the moment he and Father Thomas was dreading. Could he answer? Or would the question push him over the edge.
Larus’ eyes were as an anchor in a sea of turbulence. Without them he knew he would be lost. Hunter was again on the wall, yet at the same time stood before Larus in the temple of the Or’tux. His mind railed against the disparity, but Hunter somehow kept focused on Larus’ eyes and retained his sanity.
“Do you have it?” the guard demanded.
“What is it you are supposed to have?” Larus’ question but a breath behind that of the guard’s. Mind alternating between reality and dream, his vision wavered and felt his state of consciousness growing precarious.
Darkness swelled upon the wall, quickly enveloping the guard. The stars emblazoned on the front of his armor seemed to blossom into life and began to glow as the darkness took him.
“Hunter,” came a voice, “stay with us.” Then the vision atop the wall faded slightly as Larus’ face once again came into focus.
On the verge of collapse, mind barely able to differentiate reality from dream, a flash of light in the real world drew his attention from Larus’ eyes. On the wall far behind Larus, the five arachnids sparkled in the torch’s light. For a brief moment, the five stars from the guard’s uniform were superimposed upon the arachnids. They aligned perfectly. And he knew.
“Hunter!” Larus cried as he saw Hunter’s eyes begin to roll backward. To Father Thomas he said, “We’re losing him! Now!”
Taking the opened water bottle held in his hand, Father Thomas sprayed Hunter’s face while Larus cried his name again. “Hunter!”
Like a rag doll, Hunter collapsed to the floor. Immediately, Father Thomas was there with the water bottle and emptied the rest of its contents onto Hunter’s face in an attempt to revive him. As the water hit his face, Larus slapped him hard. “Wake up!” he hollered. Shaking him, he didn’t stop until Hunter began to sputter from the water that had entered his mouth.
Coughing, Hunter’s eyes flew open. Larus ceased shaking him and took his head between his hands to lock gazes with him. “Hunter?” he asked quietly as he sought for signs of reason.
