Ascendants of Ancients Sovereign (Worlds of the Crystal Moon, Book 1) (17 page)

“You’re saying this blessing will allow me to journey around the mountains in only 3 Peaks?”

Celestria nodded.

“Why are you doing this, Goddess? Why do you care about my existence?”

Celestria rubbed her hands through the fur on each side of Kepler’s snout. Though her size paled in comparison, she was firm and loved the way the demon-cat loathed every moment of her touch.

“Of all the great cats who serve me, you’re my favorite. But it must be your decision to fulfill your destiny. I won’t come to you again. This is your only chance to seize the territories you’ve long desired.” The goddess kissed the tip of Kepler’s gigantic nose and enjoyed the cat’s discomfort. “I sure hope the human doesn’t kill you.” She vanished.

The demon-jaguar let out a mighty roar that caused the birds clinging to the face of the walls of the pass to take flight. He shook to rid himself of the goddess’ unwanted advances. After a moment of staring at the blessed leg, he ripped the flesh from the bone.

Just North of Lethwitch

George was sick to his stomach. The blackness opened and spit him out like rotten food. He appeared high above the ground, and now he was focused on his end.

Just before impact, he closed his eyes, but to his surprise, he landed on something soft. A loud scream erupted beneath him as his descent came to a halt.

George waited before he opened his eyes. Whatever he landed on was hurt. He opened his right eye to peek. A moment later, he lifted himself off a massive, heavyset man.

Before the jerk inquired if the man was alright, George looked himself over. Everything seemed intact, except his clothes that were tattered.
Damn, I can’t believe I didn’t break anything.

The man cried out once again.

George rolled his eyes, annoyed, and pulled his attention off his dangling shirt pocket. “Are you all right?”

“I think you broke my back!” the man wailed.

“Dang,” George replied. “That sucks. Can you feel your legs? Is there anything I can do to help?” George grabbed the man’s bag and rifled through it to see if there was anything he could use.

“Find the powder,” the man groaned. “It’s in a copper tin. Add it to the water in my hide.” He groaned again. “It’ll dull the pain.”

George did as instructed and administered the tonic. “How’s that feel ... better?”

“Much,” the man sighed as if the potion had an instantaneous effect.

“Now what should I do?” George queried.

“Could you help me up against a tree? I have friends who’ll be coming this way. They’ll be able to lay me on their wagon and take me to the healers’ vestry.”

George politely smiled and then thought,
Yeah sure they will… if they can get your big ass onto the wagon first.

After another swig of tonic, George took the opportunity to move the man against the nearest tree. He grunted as he struggled to move the man’s heft. In a winded voice, he fell onto his backside and said, “Why did you catch me?”

“I didn’t catch you. You fell on me.” The man looked up. “I was walking, and the next thing I knew, you landed on me. It’s not like men fall from the sky every Peak. Did you fall from one of the hippogriffs?”

“Hippo what?” George replied. “You must be drunk. I’m not even sure what happened. One minute, I’m on a statue looking at a rock, and the next, I’m falling. If you hadn’t come along, I’d be eating dirt right now.

The man looked puzzled. “What is this ‘minute’ you referred to?”

George’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Lasidious smiled inside as he continued to play the part of the fictitious traveler. He was going to enjoy playing with George’s mind. He redirected the conversation. “My name is Jason.” The god pointed south. “I live beyond the field. Folks around these parts call me an adventurer. I like to call myself a traveler and a purveyor of hidden goods.” After another swig, he questioned, “Who are you?”

George did not respond. He was distracted by the way Jason’s chubby chin jiggled as he spoke.

“Are you going to answer me? I said, what’s your name, boy?”

George responded, but failed to answer the question. “Why are you dressed like Robin Hood? You’re not a little off, are you?”

Jason frowned. “Do you not know your name, or are you ignoring me on purpose?”

George shrugged as he looked across the large, gently sloping meadow that was covered with brightly colored flowers, none of which George had ever seen. He then looked to the west and followed the dense tree line to the north. The world of Luvelles was hanging above the horizon.
What the hell?
he thought. Turning to his right, he scanned the rest of his surroundings. The world of Harvestom was hanging above the opposing horizon. George shook his head, closed his eyes and then reopened them. Once he determined he was lost, he looked at Jason. “Everything is sure colorful around here. Much nicer than where I’m from.” He did not want to ask where he was since he did not know this guy, and he could not have Jason thinking he was clueless.

“You’re right, it is beautiful,” Jason responded. “The gods bless us. But don’t you think you should tell me your name, boy? You’re being rude.”

George feigned his remorse. “Oh, sure. Where are my manners? I’m George.”

“From where do you hail?” Jason responded, without hesitation.

“From Orlando. Why?”

“Well, George, from Orlando, well met. I can’t say that I’ve ever heard of your kingdom.”

Kingdom?
George thought.
How do I respond to that?
“You’ll have to cut me some slack here, man, I’m at a loss for words.”

“You speak in a strange manner,” Jason slurred. “I cannot say the place you hail from is known to me, but I can extend my hand in friendship.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, sure thing. Friends it is.” George looked to the south again. “Where are we? Do you always hang out in the middle of nowhere?”

“You’re between the town of Lethwitch and the Enchanted Forest.”

“Okay. So ... why are you out here?”

“Well, recently, I learned ... ummm...” Jason’s voice drifted off.

George looked at the hide holding the tonic.“That must be some pretty wicked stuff. What were you going to say?”

Jason took another swig. A massive smile appeared on his face as the level of his intoxication increased. “Don’t tell anyone, but I know a secret.”

“Right on. I think we all do. So what does your drunk ass know that I don’t?”

Jason grinned. “It wouldn’t be a secret if I told you.”

George rolled his eyes. “You’re killing me. Why did you mention it?”

The traveler’s eyes looked droopy as he responded. “I should’ve held my tongue.”

Now George had to know. “Whatever your secret is, I could always help you out. Why don’t you let me? Think of it as a way of saying thank you for saving me.”

The RV salesman knew he had no intention of following through with the gesture, but he had to know Jason’s secret. He knelt. “Tell me ... what were you really doing out here?”

“Well...”

“Well what?” George urged.

A fair series of moments passed before Jason replied. “I suppose you look like a trustworthy fellow. I could use the help.” The traveler looked George over from head to toe. “I see no reason why we couldn’t share the rewards. They would be significant.”

“What rewards? What are you talking about?”

Jason continued to slur as his response drifted. “We could always split the gains. There would be enough wealth and power ... ummm ... uhh, to go around after you’ve completed the task.”

“Task?” George queried. “What task?” He liked what he had heard. The words “wealth” and “power” sounded good. “Talk to me, man.”

Jason continued. “Do you ever get tired of being pushed around? I do. I know of a map that was lost near the Pool of Sorrow. Rumor has it the map was lost many seasons ago, but...”

George watched as the traveler struggled to focus. Jason stared at his hands as if something commanded his attention. Once he determined nothing more would come of his pondering, he lifted his head and continued. “The map is said to be under a boulder near a tree closest to the outlet that flows into the Cripple River. It reveals the location of a hidden treasure. I was going to retrieve it and sell it. The map is worth an amount of coin that I’ve never had or been able to imagine. The only thing worth more than the map is the treasure it leads to. I would go after it myself, but the beast inside the cave ends the lives of all those who enter.”

“Wait a second,” George interrupted. “What kind of treasure?”

Lasidious knew he had George’s full attention. He knew the mortal was greedy. The Mischievous One smiled within as he continued to play the role of the wounded adventurer. “The map is said to lead to a Staff of Petrifaction. The staff can turn things to stone, but there’s one qualification to that ability.”

George rolled his eyes. “Stone, huh? Do you really expect me to believe that? You’re drunk as hell, aren’t you?”

Jason looked up at George and squinted as if he was trying to focus. “Why would you doubt what I’m saying? The medicine is strong, but it doesn’t change the truth.”

George thought,
Oh my freaking hell, this guy is serious.
He smirked. “So what’s this qualification?”

Jason’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure you want to know?”

“You bet. Why not?”

A sinister look appeared on Jason’s face. “The staff can only be used by dwarves. I’m sure you know of the dwarves on Trollcom.”

“Of course, I do,” George responded. “Doesn’t everybody?”
Freak!

Jason motioned for George to come closer. “What the map doesn’t divulge is a way to secure the power even if you’re not a dwarf. The staff isn’t solid. Its center holds a liquid. If a man was to drink it, he would receive the ability to turn things to stone.”

George backed away. “Sounds like B.S.”

“I assure you this is real and not this ‘B.S.’ you speak of. If other men knew, they would kill for the opportunity to lay their hands on the staff.”

George rolled his eyes. “If what you’re saying is true, a guy could do well for himself with that ability.”

Jason motioned for George to stop speaking. “You’re not thinking large enough, but I do believe you see the value of the artifact. If you were to acquire the staff, together we could take control of Grayham. Can you imagine the wealth we would acquire while ruling kingdoms? This would be far better than simply doing well.” Jason smiled.

“You’re right,” George replied. He turned his back to Jason and looked toward the town.
Too bad you’re full of crap,
he thought
.
But as his mind continued to race, he could not help but fantasize about the possibilities. He looked toward the tree line of the Enchanted Forest and blurted, “If I could get my hands on that staff, I could mess with folks. Ha! I could even get rid of that ex-wife of mine. Abbie would be able to live with me again.” He looked back at Jason. “Of course, I would need to take my new best friend with me once he was back on his feet.”

“But, of course.” Jason hiccupped and then burped. “I can tell you’re a man of your word. Who’s this Abbie?”

“She’s my daughter,” George responded.

“Ahhhhhhhh ... I’m sure you would do anything for your loved one. But I have one question. Do you have the courage to face the beast inside the cave?”

“Hell if I know.” George scratched the top of his head as he imagined what the beast might look like. “Courage isn’t my problem. I’m not the best fighter. What would I be getting myself into?”

“I’ll tell you everything I’ve heard. The cave is home to Maldwin. Some say he’s a hideous monster who uses visions of sadness to drive those who enter his cave insane. Others say his visions encourage his victims to commit suicide. Those affected walk down the Pass of Tears and throw themselves into the Pool of Sorrow. A soldier from Brandor once told me that he could hear the beast’s victims weeping as they descended the pass. When they reached the pool, they swam into its depths, and when the moment arrived that their sanity returned, they didn’t have the air to surface.”

Jason pretended to need another drink. After three large swigs, he wiped the dribble from his chin. “I was told that any man who enters the cave accepts the risk of losing himself. The only way out, if you manage not to lose your mind, is to exit through a passage called Sorrow’s Release. This exit cannot be seen from the outside since it is protected by illusion. It is said to take 8 Peaks to find the way through the cave.”

What the hell is a Peak?
George thought. “This cave sounds like a pain in the ass. It also sounds fake.” He put his hands on top of his head and continued to think.
I can’t believe I’m going to say this. Ahhh, what the hell.
“Even if everything you’ve said is true, how would a guy stop this Maldwin from screwing with his mind, find his way to this ‘Pool of Sorrow,’ and lift this boulder off the map to get to it?” George was becoming anxious despite his disbelief.

“I’ve asked the same things myself,” Jason replied. “I understand your troubled mind. This is no easy task, clearly, or every man would strive to attain the prize.”

The traveler motioned for George to come close again. “What I’m about to say, you must keep to yourself. Do you swear to hold your tongue?”

George fought the urge to laugh.
This guy is intense,
he thought.
He really does believe the crap he’s shoveling.
“Sure, whatever, man. I can shut up for a bit of dirt.”

The skin between Jason’s eyes wrinkled. “Does that mean you’ll hold your tongue?”

“That’s what I said.”

Nodding, Jason continued. “I may have a solution to the problem the beast’s visions presents. In town, there’s an old mage who has mastered many beneficial uses of magic. He could help. I’m sure he would have a spell that would assist you through the cave.”

“What?” George blurted. “Turning stuff to stone is bad enough, and now you’re spouting off about spells?” He reached out to take the hide from Jason. “I’m cutting you off. You’ve had enough.”

Jason shoved George’s hand aside. “You must listen to me. You’re going to need a spell that’s powerful enough to block the beast’s visions. You’ll need to get close to it to kill it.”