Ring of the Or'tux, page 34
One of Hunter’s hands came out of nowhere and thrust Larus away. Caught unawares by the blow, Larus was knocked off balance and pushed to the side. Hunter immediately turned to the side and continued coughing while holding up a hand to forestall any forthcoming ‘aid’ from Larus. He could see the concern they had for him and between coughs allayed their fears by indicating he was okay.
“Do you remember?” asked Larus when it looked like the coughing fit had passed. “Do you know what you are supposed to have?”
“Yes,” he replied. Sitting up, he turned haunted eyes toward Larus and Father Thomas. Memories came to him. The most detailed were the ones associated with the wall and its subsequent fall to the besieging darkness.
“Sounds like the wall of his dream may be that of Xith,” commented Father Thomas at one point. “Perhaps the darkness is symbolic of the Ullentites.” He glanced to Larus. “If I am correct, then Xith will fall.” A pause then… “And so too will Casdra. I pray that I am wrong.”
“Unless we get what we came here for,” stated Larus. Turning to Hunter he asked, “Do you remember?”
Shakily, Hunter nodded. Then he began speaking of the dreams.
Throughout Hunter’s narrative, Larus repeatedly berated himself for being a fool. Hunter’s bouts of madness had not been the result of being taken from his world and transplanted to this one as he and Father Thomas had originally theorized. No! They had been the result of dreams implanted by Qyaendri and he hadn’t the wisdom to recognize them for what they were. Idiot! ‘Remember the ways of the Qyaendri’ Ftheril had told him during their encounter back in the Caves. At the time he had taken Ftheril’s words as advice rather than a hint of what was to come. Fool!
“…keeps coming back to me on that wall, and the guard,” concluded Hunter. “What can it mean?”
Putting aside his self-deprecating thoughts, Larus said, “These visions were given to you for a purpose. I believe if we correlated the times of the dreams with the times of madness, we would see them match perfectly.” Nodding over to the priest, he added, “I also think Father Thomas was correct in that the wall in your dream is that of the city of Xith.”
“And the darkness being the Ullentites?” queried Hunter.
Larus nodded. “Yes.”
Hunter was quiet a second then, “But why did my earlier dreams always begin back on my world then end up on this one?”
“You have to understand that dreams implanted by the gods are not like movies playing out before you,” explained Larus. “Rather, they are thoughts that are placed within your subconscious which in turn have to be assimilated by your mind. That assimilation invariably manifests as dreams, dreams which use images you as the recipient can understand.”
“I guess that makes sense,” Hunter said. “But why couldn’t I remember them until now?”
“Most times these dreams are implanted in anticipation of a specific event coming to pass,” Larus told him. “Once past the initial assimilation, they lie dormant until triggered by something. In your case…,” pausing, he pointed toward the five crystalline arachnids on the far wall, “it was the sight of those.”
“So that would mean they have special significance?” asked Hunter.
“In one way or another, yes,” replied Larus. Indicating the crystalline arachnid they possessed, he added, “Between this and those over there on the wall, I believe we will find that which we were brought here to find.”
“The ring?” offered Hunter.
Larus nodded. “The guard on the wall asked if you had it. From what you said his armor had five stars which were arrayed just as those five spiders are over there. There has to be a connection.”
“But what?” Hunter looked over the waving fronds to the five crystalline arachnids glittering in the torch light.
“We won’t know that until we get over there,” Larus stated.
Between where the three of them now sat and the wall with the five crystalline arachnids sat a waving field of fronds. Unlike the previous room where there was a walkway passing between adjacent stands of fronds, this one had little more than a narrow ledge separating each from their neighbors. With the way the fronds were swaying to and fro as if to a nonexistent breeze, there would be no way to traverse those ledges without coming into contact with the fronds. And that was something none of them wished to do.
“How do you propose we reach the far side?” asked Father Thomas.
“There’s nothing that says all three of us must cross,” observed Larus. Tucking their crystalline arachnid within his jacket, he stood. “I’ll cross and get the ring.” Turning to the other two, he said to Father Thomas, “If it should prove necessary for all of us to cross, we’ll worry about that when the time comes.”
“Good luck,” offered Father Thomas.
“Thank you,” replied Larus. “Oh, and if Hunter starts acting weird again, take him from the room.”
“I will,” Father Thomas assured him.
“I’ll be back,” Larus said to Hunter and was surprised when Hunter started laughing. Why anyone would think this was funny was beyond him.
Turning toward the waving fronds, Larus gauged the distance from the pool’s edge to the tomb sitting in its center. Then with a running start, he raced for the edge and leaped. His two companions held their breath as he arced over the dark pool and its fronds, finally slamming into the top of the crypt and knocking off the tomb’s crystalline arachnid into the fronds.
Grabbing onto the ornate surface adorning the top of the tomb, he sought handholds as his momentum continued carrying him forward. Just before reaching the edge and plunging over the side into the waiting fronds, his fingers found a projection and clenched onto it tightly. He came to a stop with head jutting several inches past the edge of the tomb. Inches away were the tops of the fronds.
Very nimbly and carefully, he pulled himself from the edge and brought himself upright onto the tomb. He waved back to the others, informing them he had safely made it this far. Then he readied for the second jump, this time without the benefit of a running start. At least he could leap with everything he had without fear of overshooting.
Moving as far back as the top of the tomb allowed, he took a breath, let it out, then ran. Three steps were all the space afforded him before he leapt with every ounce of strength. Sailing over the fronds, he cleared their edge by a good seven feet.
“I made it!” he hollered back to the others. Seeing their answering waves, he turned back to the tomb and the five crystalline arachnids arching across the wall above it. His eyes went first to the tomb. He had a good idea that the ring would be within the tomb, residing upon the finger of whoever was entombed.
Crossing over to stand next to it, he could better see its construction. The tomb itself was squarish in size and larger than the others they had encountered thus far. Though ornately carved, the top was just a lid that once removed, should reveal the occupant lying within. Now the trick was in removing the lid. With only the use of his own strength, Larus was fairly sure he would be able to lift it. Giving it a careful examination, he quickly found handholds which would afford him decent leverage. Moving into position, he gripped the lid and lifted.
From the other side of the room, Father Thomas and Hunter stood silent vigil as they watched Larus first move to, and then around, the tomb. When he finally came to a stop and gripped the lid of the tomb making ready to lift, Hunter found himself holding his breath in anticipation.
“He may not be able to lift it alone,” he said.
Standing next to him, Father Thomas may not have understood his words, but he did pick up on the concern in his voice. Nodding, Father Thomas replied, “We may yet have to cross over and help.” A prospect he did not relish.
Eyes fixed upon Larus’ efforts to lift the lid, Hunter nodded uncomprehendingly. On the far side of the room, Larus continued straining to lift the tomb’s lid. “Come on,” breathed Hunter when Larus paused in his attempt for a brief moment then resumed. Even from this far he could see the sheer effort Larus was putting into lifting the lid, though with little success. When after the third attempt Larus stepped back and didn’t return, Hunter knew he was having problems.
It can’t be that heavy, Larus thought. Even though not fully restored to full Qyaendri abilities, he knew that his strength was that of at least two, maybe three men. He should have been able to at least budge the top of the tomb. But it hadn’t even moved a hair’s width! Something must be keeping it closed. A lock maybe?
He did have some knowledge of the inner workings of locks. Once he had been sent to the aid of a man who had begun to stray down dark paths. In the course of helping the man back to the ways of Casdralla, he had seen the picking of locks many times. He even watched as locks had been completely dismantled and studied by the man. If there was a lock of sorts preventing him from opening the tomb, then there must be a way to release it. Giving the tomb a once over, he wondered what guise it would take.
First he searched the outside of the tomb in its entirety for a keyhole as that would be the simplest, but failed to find any. Then he tried looking for a release, some node on the tomb that may yield results when manipulated. Again his efforts were met with failure.
“Irritating,” he quietly mumbled.
Next he turned his attention to the large crystalline arachnid atop the lid. All attempts at moving legs, body, or any combination of such proved futile. He even took out the crystalline arachnid they had carried since the High Temple and tried placing it in various positions on the lid thinking it may have been a key. When that proved useless, he set it piggy-back atop the larger one affixed to the tomb. Again, nothing.
“Why won’t you open!” he shouted at it. A glance around this side of the room revealed nothing that could be used as a crowbar to pry the lid off. If he had a hammer he’d try smashing his way through. Oh how he wished he would have thought of bringing one. But who would have thought it would be needed?
Frustrated, he felt like smashing the lid with his fist, but knew all such an action would accomplish was injury to himself. Taking a step back, his gaze roved over the lid as he tried to calm himself and consider the problem logically.
His gaze continued returning to the five crystalline arachnids forming an arch on the wall above the tomb, trying ineffectually to focus on the area of squiggles and circles within. Try as he might, the more he focused on the area, the worse the distortion and feeling of discomfort became.
In his mind’s eye, he pictured the guard Hunter had described from his dream, how upon his uniform were five stars matching the formation of the crystalline arachnids. Was it merely a guide, a direction to lead them to this specific tomb? Or was it more?
Each of the five crystalline arachnids was positioned so their heads were pointed toward the area within the arch comprised of squiggles and circles. In fact, if you drew a line through the center of each and continued it through the area of squiggles and circles, the five lines would intersect at the same point. Intrigued by the revelation, he tried to focus on the spot of intersection with little success. He at least could tell that one of the circles did lie there.
Turning his gaze back to the crystalline arachnid he had sat atop the larger one of the tomb, the thought that it may be a key once again crossed his mind. Could it be? Hoping that would be the case, he climbed atop the tomb and grabbed Hunter’s arachnid.
The squiggle area was now at eye level. Looking upon it that close gave him a feeling of nausea whenever it came into sight. I hope this works, he thought to himself as he raised the crystalline arachnid to the area of squiggles and circles.
“What is he doing?” Father Thomas wondered. From where they stood on the far side of the field of fronds, they watched as he climbed atop the tomb.
Beside him, Hunter nodded. Larus’ actions were inexplicable and Hunter hoped he knew what he was doing. A moment after Larus stood erect upon the tomb, a feeling of foreboding came over Hunter as a cold chill coursed its way down his spine. On the back of his neck, he could feel all the tiny hairs standing on end. That’s when he noticed the fronds which had been in constant motion since their first entering the tomb area were still. Looking from one side of the field of fronds to the other, he saw each stalk standing perfectly erect. The sight deepened his feeling of unease.
“Fa…,” he began when a flash of light flared from the far side of the room.
His gorge was rising as he moved the crystalline arachnid toward the area where the five imaginary lines extending from the arachnids intersected. As he moved it up toward the center, the arachnid in his hand began interposing itself between him and the area of squiggles and circles. The nausea started diminishing.
Afraid that placing it in the wrong position may have disastrous repercussions, he moved it ever slower as it drew closer to the wall. Then when it was less than two inches away, the crystalline arachnid in his hand suddenly turned clear. The body that once was translucent was now completely transparent. The sudden change startled him and almost caused him to drop it. But keeping his grip firm, he prevented it from smashing onto the floor.
“Oh,” he breathed as he looked through the thorax of the crystalline arachnid and upon the pattern of squiggles and circles. It was now clear and easy to look upon, all vestiges of his earlier nausea having vanished. So long as he looked upon it through the arachnid in his hand, there was no ill affects.
A grin came to him when he saw eight small circles in two slightly broken lines running perpendicular to the floor. Moving the arachnid closer, he saw that its eight legs would match perfectly the pattern of the eight small circles. Triumph!
With their goal in sight, he brought the arachnid forward until the eight legs rested upon the eight circles. When nothing happened, he pushed upon the back of the arachnid and felt it sink into the wall. A second later, the five arachnids arching upon the wall flared in a blinding flash.
Chapter 26
Momentarily blinded by the flash, Larus was knocked off balance and fell from the tomb as the lid upon which he stood began to move. Blinded, he heard the sound of stone grinding on stone. By the time the grinding noise ceased, his vision had sufficiently returned for him to see that it wasn’t just the lid which had moved, but the entire tomb.
“Larus!” Father Thomas shouted from the far side of the room. “Are you alright?”
Regaining his feet, Larus turned toward the voice and waved. “Yes,” he replied. “Startled me is all.” Shaking his head in an attempt to further clear his vision, he saw where the sliding of the tomb had revealed an opening wherein steps descended down into darkness. “There’s an opening here!” he shouted to the others.
Moving toward it, his excitement grew. Stepping onto the first step, he gazed into the darkness then over to the others. “Be right back!” he hollered then began making his way down the steps. He heard one of the others shout something but so intent was he on the steps that he paid little attention.
The descending down the steps soon had him completely enveloped in darkness. Knowing the others would be unable to see him, he allowed the glow which had appeared back at the Ullentite camp to shine forth. Though not bright by any measure, it was sufficient for him to make out his surroundings.
On either side, figures were etched into the walls. The glow emanating outward from his skin gave them a haunting feel as he continued down the steps. Seventeen in all, they finally came to an end at a small room where a single skeleton was laid upon an open bier. Dressed in robes having long since succumbed to time, Larus could tell they once had been made of the finest materials. The man, for that is what Larus took the skeletal remains to have once been, laid with arms crossed across his chest.
Pausing but a moment on the bottom step, Larus gazed to the man with its vacant eye sockets staring up toward the ceiling. The sight of the skeletal face gave him pause as an uncontrollable shiver took him for the briefest of moments. When the shiver passed, he stepped into the room.
Crossing over to stand next to the bier, his gaze sought the hands of the dead man. Flesh long since turned to leather bound tightly upon the bones. They lay upon his chest in a relaxed state. His heart quickened when he saw a ring adorning the forefinger of the right hand. A quick visual check revealed the other nine fingers were bare of adornment.
With eyes now locked onto the ring, he said in a quiet whisper, “That has to be it.” The details of the ring were unclear in the miniscule luminosity of the glow emanating from him. What was apparent was the shape of the ring’s stone, oval.
Reaching out, he gripped the ring and slid it easily from the dead man’s hand.
The motionless fronds were even more unnerving than when they had been waving as if to an unfelt wind. Hunter and Father Thomas waited anxiously, their eyes locked to the opening in the floor through which Larus had disappeared. Above the opening, the arch of five arachnids glowed with a dim, white light. The sixth, the one Larus had placed in the middle that had initiated the opening of the secret way, glowed much more darkly, pulsating in a slow, barely perceptible rhythm.
Standing next to Hunter, Father Thomas fidgeted with his hands, wringing them over and over while mouthing silent prayers. Ever since the flash of light, Father Thomas had grown nervous, which of course did little to ease Hunter’s own feelings of impending doom.
“I hope the ring is in there and we can get out of here,” he said to the priest. Glancing over to his companion, Hunter saw him make no attempt to reply. A closer looked showed Father Thomas’ eyes closed as he continued mouthing silent prayers.
“Father?” he asked. Again, no response. Turning his eyes back to the opening in the floor, his fear grew.
