Soul Under the Mountain (Legend of Reason Series) (5 page)

The ghostly Mages were not far behind. The emerald glow from the magic staff grew brighter, and three wraithlike Mages slid to a stop in front of her. She puzzled over the image before her, because the cloaked men did not appear to be touching the ground at all, but instead hovered several inches above it.
While it made no sense that they were able to do such a thing, it did suddenly make sense why they made no sound and chased her so effortlessly.

The man with the staff hovered closer. "Give us the book, Vindyri."

Alana mustered a clever smile and handed the cloth bundle to the Mage. "You got me," she said between ragged breaths.

He slowly reached for the bundle, obviously unconvinced that a book was inside of it. Once he was sure, he threw the worthless fabric to the
street, hovering ever closer. He lowered the staff, pointing what was certainly the more dangerous end in her direction. Small, erratic bolts of green lightning danced around the tip, with some striking out into the air.

"Where is it?" the man growled.

"Where is what? It was a book you wanted, right? Maybe you should check with your
Bhoor
friends over at the Great Library in Taburdum
. They have lots of books there—if they let you in."

"Do not play games with us, Vindyri. I can snuff out the light of your soul in an instant."

"I'm not afraid to die," she said defiantly.

Laughter came from under the hood. "Oh, my dear, I didn't say I would kill you. I would, don't misunderstand
. B
ut I meant I can wipe your soul from existence. Total annihilation."

"Well then, I guess I won't know it, huh? Sounds pretty painless to me. Get on with it."

"Your defiance has gone from slightly amusing to irritating. If you anger me, you will pay dearly."

"Your threats are amusing," she scoffed. "You're nothing but a coward hiding behind a big black hood. And you need your little walking stick there to
threaten a little woman like me. I swear, men these days are
really
pathetic."

"Mind your tongue woman, or I will tear it out. Tell us where the book is or you die here in this alley. All that will remain of you is a bloodstain dribbled here between the cobblestones."

"It's with Rommus. Go get it from him."

The man and his cohorts cocked their heads in confusion. "You're lying. Why would you run from us if you didn't have the book with you all this time?"

Alana propped herself up a little higher. "Really? You think it's odd to run from hovering men in black carrying glowing canes that shoot lightning?"

He raised the staff some and the turbulent energy surrounding it dimmed to a simple glow. "Where is Rommus now?"

"As far as I know, he's fighting your friends at Taburdum."

"The invaders at Taburdum and the Mages are not of the same accord," he said angrily.

Alana rolled her eyes. "No? It just so happens that everyone all at once wants to destroy Medora, but you're not on the same side? I find your story-like your manhood—hard to believe."

Even with the hood and heavy robes covering all of his features, it was clear that he was becoming irate. His body shook with rage and his breathing became deep and loud. If she were standing, he would have probably slapped her to the ground or cracked his staff across her cheekbone.

But she had to keep him talking. She was still too weak to fight back or probably even to stand, and she needed all the time she could buy to gather her strength again. The longer she talked, the better off she would be. There was a point, however, where the man would just snap and turn her into a red stain, so she decided to change tactics slightly.

"I know you," she lied. "I have seen you before."

"No, you do not."

"Yeah, yeah, I do. I know the voice. I was in your little underground fort spying on you once. I
know it was you. Dark hair, brown eyes, medium build?"

"I don't know who you think you are fooling, Vindyri, but this game stops right now."

She searched nonchalantly for anything around her that could be used as a weapon. Her fists would be useless in her condition, and she wasn't sure she could even stand. Her breathing had become more regular, but her chest still burned from the cold air whirling through it. She needed to find a way to get away from these men before they killed her or destroyed her soul or whatever it was they were going to end up doing to her. Her eyes scanned beyond them, desperately searching for Rommus or Vohl or Tannis to come running to her aid.

The eerie
green light hovering above the staff suddenly grew brighter, as if an idea had suddenly come to the man holding it. "If you will not tell us where the book is, you will take us to it."

"And just how do you figure you can get me to do that? You already know I am not afraid to die or have my soul destroyed. The thing I fear most is you animals getting your hands on that book. You might as well kil
l me now. I'm not helping you
destroy the world."

"No, Vindyri, you won't. You will help us to reshape the world into one closer to our hearts' desire. You don't have a choice in the matter. Stand up."

"I won't stand. In fact, if you were any smarter you'd realize I don't have the strength to stand. But if I did, I would spit in your face and
then
lie back down."

The man just stood there staring down at her, but his two companions rushed over and roughly brought her to her feet. To her surprise, the classless, poor excuses for men punched her in her stomach several times. She immediately had the wind knocked out of her and could not draw a breath. The pain in her stomach and joints, coupled with the agony of weakness paralyzing her was enough to make her want to just give up and die.
As they beat her, the voice in her head had become very quiet, and she almost wished it would just go away entirely. It was bad enough to have fists pummeling her, she didn't need her mind pummeling her too. She just wanted to be left alone. Whether it be to rest or just die did not matter to her a
nymore. She felt a small pang of
sorrow for Rommus. If she died at the hands of these men, it would hurt him, and she hated the idea of that.

"Enough," the leader said to his thugs. "She's coming with us. Tie her up. Make it uncomfortable."

Chapter
5

Gorin and Gewin were twins. Each of them had seen countless battles, and wore their scars with pride. Both of them would often point to certain scars, boasting about a particular battle, trying to lay claim to the most valiant title.
But with so many scars, it was not a
good measure of valor, and n
either ever succeeded in convincing his brother that
the title was his.

While the twins bore a resemblance to each other, they did not b
ear
a resemblance to anyone else. They were not exactly human, although
in their distant past they had
bee
n
. Their form had been altered long ago, and they could only pass for humans in darkness. They were the height of a tall man,
although they were
much wider. This made them appear to be very squat from a distance,
but
they were not at all small. Their skin was leathery, li
ke the hide of an ox, and had a
purplish
hue to it.
Faint patterns on their
hairless
skin resembled the markings of a snake,
though
they were hard to see at a distance.
Their bones were heavy and thick, especially at the wrists, elbows, knees and ankles, where normal humans were noticeably thinner.

Their faces
were wide and fierce, and e
ven while
smiling there seemed to be no hint of kindness or humanity in them. Sharp teeth were hidden behind
wide mouths with heavy jaws, and y
ellow eyes looked out from under hooded brows. The look from those eyes showed an intelligent, calculating being, not some kind of animal without a soul.
Their noses were short and flat, and their nostrils were more like slits than holes.

They both had long black hair, which grew farther down their necks than a human's hair. In fact, it grew a good ways down their backs, which was a
somewhat
comical look, and yet somehow terrifying at the same time. They took pride in their hair and tied it back in thick braids.

In warmer weather, they would always go shirtless, detesting the restrictions of clothing. Where they were from, it was never cold, and the seasons blended together into a constant, reliable pattern of moist, hot weather. They preferred to wear only leather
boots and loincloths made of long, wide strips of leather
that ended below their knees
. But since they had come so far north, they were forced to wear more clothing. Each had fashioned their own cloak and they both pretended to be proud of the crude clothing they had made.

But even if they were not suitable tailors, they were proud of their weapons. They had a habit of collecting knives—especially curved ones. They didn't care much for swords or spears, but
they had a genuine obsession with their war hammers
.
The hammers were longer than an average sword, and probably ten times the weight. The heads were bulky and dangerous, and the shafts were metal, not fragile shanks of wood.

They treated their hammers as if they were
true
weapons
of the gods, and they certainly looked the part. They were beautiful; elegant in form but not overly decorative. The finish was mostly dark, but uneven blue and purple areas showed
where they had been
heat treated, and silver areas showed where the hammers had met steel in battle. In the center of the head, on both sides of both hammers, was an inlaid gold medallion.
Each of the four medallions had a single sentence, which when combined read
:

The hammers held in worthy hands

United brothers storm the lands

And if they should avoid the fall

By hammer they shall rule them all

But hammers and cloaks were not all they brought with them. They also carried a priceless treasure that was worth more than all the wealth of all the towns they had seen combined. It was
the eye of Indahinar;
an orb of quartz crystal, roughly the size of a human head. It was mostly translucent, although it had some milky imperfections
streaking through it
, and w
hen the light caught the surface, all the colors of the rainbow danced across
it
, creating a dazzling effect.

At the center of the orb was a hollow area
about the size of a fist. Most of the time
the
orb
looked a lot like a bubble within a bubble, but when it was in use, it appeared very different. When its power was called forth, the hollow center
inside lit up with a view of another
part of
the world. That small view
projected outwards and made it appear a
s if the viewer was there in the other part of the world.
It was as if the brothers had stepped into a misty dream, although what they saw was reality and not a product the restless imagination of a slumbering
mind
.
They could watch this vision as if they were there, although they were unable to interact with what they saw in any way.

But both brothers needed to be touching the orb at the same time for it to function. While they both held it,
concentrating
on the map they held in their minds, they could visit
anywhere in the world.
They had been watching the outside world for a very long time—long before the great barrier had sealed them away
in the southern lands
.

For thousands of years they had honed their skills. For countless centuries they had watched mankind and learned their languages and their secrets. They had seen their wars and famines, their strengths and weaknesses. They watched with wonder and anticipation while they waited trapped far
to the
south. It was tedious and agonizing, but in their long lives they had learned the value of patience. After all, they had no choice in the matter.

Gorin stood tall and stiff, sniffing the air. "We're in the new world now. I think we are in Bhoor-Rahn."

Gewin yawned. "How can you tell?"

"
The river there
leads out to the ocean in the distance.
I can just barely make it out in the moonlight.
That must be the River Heht, and that small city must be Zuhr. Besides, nothing in Vindyrion or Medora should look anything like this."

Gewin nodded. "You're probably right. I don't remember enough about Bhoor-Rahn to be able to envision it."