The Soul Forge (13 page)

“Oh, I’m pretty sure it’s in the job description,” Zach sneered, “fight evil, stop the bad guys. We’ve all heard the bedtime stories.”

The Priest only laughed again, taking another step forward. Thomas only raised his sword higher.

“No, boys, you don’t have to fight because you aren’t going to win. You can’t stop the Others.”

Thomas couldn’t help but smile at the incorrect name, and his smile was noticed.

“What? Do you find something funny?”

“So who are you? Really? Cause we know who you ain’t. You ain’t the Dark Priest. You ain’t the real King Ofan.”

The pretend Priest looked both hurt and furious, as if Thomas had physically struck him and insulted him in the same breath. His grip on his staff visibly tightened to the point that Thomas could hear it creak even over the flames.

“You… you should guard your tongue more carefully.”

Thomas took a deep breath, refusing to be intimidated. “I think no
t,” he spat, “after all, the truth is usually better than lyin’.”

Cynthia moved closer to him, pressing her back to his.
Zach moved closer as well, and the three of them stared at the Inanis inching towards them.

“You know, we could have resolved this quickly. But now that you have angered me, I think we’ll drag this out for a long, long while. Oh yes, I think so.”

Thomas held the General’s sword loosely, and the shield in an iron grip. The pretend Priest raised his staff and shouted a word Thomas had never heard before, and the Inanis ran towards them, arms raised.

He didn’t know what made him do it. But before he could stop himself, he raised the General’s sword and repeated the word.
He didn’t know what he hoped to achieve, but the word seemed to have summoned itself to his lips.

He certainly didn’t expect the Inanis to stop in their tracks and stare at him.
For a moment that just wouldn’t end, Thomas didn’t know whether he or the pretend Priest looked more shocked.

“How did you do that?” Cynthia asked, finally breaking the spell.

“Dunno,” Thomas replied, “but I think we should run now.”

“We’re surrounded by fire,” Zach
reminded them.

Sweat broke out on Thomas’ brow, and he really didn’t know why. There was also a
noise emerging in his brain, like a bell that was increasing in pitch. He couldn’t place where the sensations were coming from, but he was quickly wishing they would stop.

“Doesn’t matter,” Thomas said, holding his shield hand to his head, “we have to run.”

“If we fight him now, we can end this,” Zach countered, “we can end this war right now!”

“I can’t…” Thomas stammered. The pain was reaching a fever pitch, so loud that soon it would drown out his own thoughts. “I can’t hold this… much longer.”
His gaze found the pretend Priest’s, who appeared to be in as much pain as he was. It took Thomas a few more seconds to figure out what was going on.

He was battling the Priest for control of the Inanis.

The moment he realized it, the pain almost doubled. He was trying to control every Inanis, and there were dozens if not hundreds. There were just so many, too many, he didn’t know how to handle them.

Just as he felt his brain was about to shatter, he released all of the Inanis to the Priest. All save one.

He focused all of his effort on controlling just that one. The pressure eased immediately, and the Inanis all pushed forward again. Zach raised his sword and Cynthia raised her fists, but no defense was tenable.

That was okay. Thomas had a plan.

He reached out with his will alone, and the Inanis standing directly behind the pretend Priest raised its fist. With a resounding crack, the Inanis punched the Priest in the back of the head. The moment’s distraction worked, and the flames died down for only a moment.

Thomas wasn’t waiting for another chance.
He turned on ran on instinct alone as a headache started to burst through every particle of his brain. It felt as if someone had put a clamp on his skull. He ran without being able to see where he was going, and it wasn’t until he tripped and fell to the ground that he realized both Cynthia and Zach were the only things keeping him moving in the right direction.

“Oh Gods, Thomas… you’re bleeding,” Cynthia choked, wiping at his face.
Thomas didn’t know, he couldn’t feel it. He couldn’t even open his eyes.

“There you are!” he heard Morando say, with what was followed by the whinny of a horse.
Thomas tried to look up, but his head was swimming and he wasn’t capable of it.

“What’s happened?” the wise voice of the Keeper demanded, and Thomas felt another hand on his face, trying to smack some life into him.

“You said…” Thomas forced himself to say, “that any strong-willed person… could control them…”

“Gods…” the Keeper said, aghast, “you tried to control them all?”

“Yeah… not my… best idea… but… y’know…”

“Get him up,” the Keeper ordered,
“we must take him to see Valerium.”

Something stirred in Thomas, a memory he wasn’t sure he remembered. He knew that name.

“I know her…” he said. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember where.

“The Chancellor of the Capital?
When did you meet her?” the Keeper said.

“Long… story…” Thomas moaned. Staying awake was becoming more of a chore than he was really willing to dedicate energy to right now.

“Well, we don’t have time for it,” the Keeper said, “get him on his horse. Girl, ride with him. Take him to safety. Zacharias and I will follow when we can.”

“Valerium… was in the Capital… when it fell,” Thomas said, fading away.

“Idiot. The Chancellor wouldn’t have been there. Now! Go!”

Thomas wasn’t aware of being
lifted off of the ground or places on Lucille. He couldn’t feel Cynthia holding him steady, nor the feel of Lucille’s hooves as they struck the ground. All he knew for sure was that the world around him was fading to white, and finally he was at peace.

When Thomas finally woke up, he was surrounded by silence and his head felt like it was no longer attached to the world by the laws of gravity. Whatever he was lying on wasn’t particularly soft, but at least he was lying down. He tried to sit up, but he couldn’t even maneuver his arms for leverage before he slipped back down.

It took another three attempts before he actually made it to a sitting position.
The moment he did, vertigo smacked him in the face and he had to lean against a wall he wasn’t actually aware was present until he hit it.

Then he felt arms around him, and he was even more confused. When he could finally open his eyes without feeling like needles were being forced into them, he found that Cynthia was there with him, holding him steady.

“Well… hey there… pretty lady,” were the first words out of his mouth. She actually laughed.

“You had us all worried,” she said.

“All? Who else is here?” Thomas said in one breath, immediately regretting the decision because of how it burned his lungs. “Where is here?” he said more slowly, and only slightly less painfully.

“We made it to the Dwarf outpost of
Corodo,” she answered.

“Still in one piece?”
Thomas said, “finally, some good news.”

It was only when she didn’t answer that Thomas looked her in the eye.
She couldn’t meet his gaze, and Thomas’ stomach dropped so fast he wouldn’t have been surprised if the floor had felt it.

“What’s happened?”

“You’d better come see, when you can walk.”

That request took Thomas some time to comply to, seeing as he wasn’t entirely sure he knew where his feet were.
Eventually, however, he was able to stand and made his way out of the small hut they were staying in. As it turned out, they were a pretty decent way above the ground, staring out at what Thomas had to assume was a dwarf city.

What greeted his eyes next was not a pretty sight.

He had never before seen any dwarf cities, but he had heard of them. The dwarves were architectural masters, capable of forming the most exquisite things from stone. Thomas had heard more than a few tales about how their cities were carved from the mountains themselves, and in those mountains held riches that helped the dwarves mine ever deeper.

None of this is what Thomas saw.

Stone columns had been toppled, severed by an unknown force. Gold and silver had been strewn everywhere, forgotten by the invading force. Shops were still burning, their stone starting to crumble from the heat. Whatever goods they were selling had been destroyed, and the entire city appeared abandoned.

It was only when Thomas noticed the distinct lack of bodies that he was able to fight down the urge to throw up.

“Where are they? Where are the dwarves?” he asked Cynthia, who had appeared at his side.

“The dwarves were able to find shelter before the attack. We’ve heard that a small band of dwarves tried to fight, but they… they were…”

“Overrun,” Thomas supplied, bowing his head.

“Apparently, someone came to warn them of the attack,” Cynthia said.

“I should have been the one,” Thomas said angrily, “I should have left Verdonti as soon as I warned the Chancellor! I should have come here, maybe then they would have stood a chance.”

“There was nothing you could have done,” Cynthia said consolingly, placing a hand on his arm.
“Besides, the Chancellor was corrupt. Would you have left me there to rot?”

Thomas wasn’t sure if she was joking or trying to make him feel better via guilt, but neither one had the effect of cheering him up.
He simply hung his head and stared at the desolation he couldn’t even fathom.

“You warned the elves,” Thomas said, “I didn’t have to go there. But I didn’t think… I never imagined…”

“Hey, you’re awake!”

Zach’s now familiar voice broke into their conversation
, and Thomas looked his new friend in the eye with as little sadness as he could.

“How you feeling, buddy?” Zach asked, standing at his other side.
Thomas simply shook his head, unable to put into words everything he was feeling.

“He… he blames himself for what happened here,” Cynthia said, and Thomas didn’t have the strength left to refute her.
Especially considering she was right.

Zach actually slapped Thomas upside his head, which was actually really painful considering how bad his head hurt already.

“Ow!” Thomas yelled, “what was that for?”

“There’s nothing we could have done.
They attacked here the same time they attacked Verdonti. If we had skipped training with the Keeper, we would have been here. And we would have died.”

“So either way, the decision I made was wrong,” Thomas said. Either he could have left to warn the dwarves and died, or he could have stayed and the dwarves would have suffered
.

Thomas shook his head, feeling the cool morning air for the first time. What was going on in his head? When had his thought become so… dark?

It had to be this quest, this adventure. What was it doing to him?
“C’mon, buddy, shake it off,” Zach said, placing a consoling arm on Thomas’ shoulder. Thomas nodded again, letting his friends lead him to the outpost and dwarf survivors there. It was quite the trek down the tower, the carved stone all blurring together as he walked.

“What’s happened to Morando?” Thomas asked as they entered a balcony overlooking the valley that lead to the rest of the world.

“He’s been tending to the wounded that are still in the city. Putting his healing skills to good use,” Zach said.

“Hope he makes it back before we need to go,” Thomas said with a brave attempt at a smile, “we need a Healer for the group.”

It wasn’t until he literally walked into
what felt like a solid wall that he realized that he had run into a dwarf.

“Pardon me,” Thomas said.
He was surprised at how tall the dwarves were. In the stories, they were always short, barely half the size of a man. But in the flesh, they were only a head or so shorter than he was. This particular dwarf had a full red beard and a jolly smile on his face, which Thomas thought was a bit out of place given the circumstances.

“No
t a problem, little one,” the strangely happy dwarf said, seeing if Thomas was hurt. Other than a little sore, Thomas was more excited to see a real life dwarf. He was well toned, no doubt from working the forges. He was dressed in a blacksmith’s apron, and had a large hammer tied to his black belt.

“So you’re a smith?” Thomas asked as he started walking with the dwarf.

“Aye, that I am,” the dwarf replied without breaking stride, “one of the members of the sixth legion. Names Gilkor. Charged with making armor forged from the strongest steel, we are. Not that it helped us…”

His voice changed so suddenly
Thomas felt his own heart break. “What happened?”

“A woman appeared. One of your kind, she was.
Yelling to anyone that would listen that they were coming, that they were coming to destroy us all. Naturally, we raised our defenses in preparation, but she told us that would do nothing. We had to flee. At first, we were… reluctant. But then the first wave of those things came…”

As he trailed off, Thomas’ head bowed. “Were you able to repel them?”

“Only just. They weren’t capable of pain nor defeat. We thought they were made of wood, but it was a wood that refused to catch flame or be chopped down. Whatever they were, they were beyond our ability to defeat. We lost more than a few good men just keeping them out. It was then King Bilo gave the order, and a small force stayed behind to cover our escape.”

Thomas was silent before thinking about the woman. “The one who came to warn you, was she dressed in a robe?
Brown hair?”

The dwarf shook his head. “No, she was wearing no robe. Red hair though
. Flying like a fire, it was.”

Thomas nodded, letting the silence take the moment. So Chancellor Valerium wasn’t there after all.

As the dwarf finished his tale, they apparently reached their destination. There were two dwarves inside, working a piece of metal over an anvil. Thomas watched, enthralled, as the sparks flew from every hammer strike.

“You seem enchanted, boy,”
Gilkor said, “care to take a swing? We can teach you a thing or two.”

Thomas was extremely torn, but
he had goals he had to achieve, and learning to smith was not one of them. At least, not yet.

“I’d be lyin’ if I said I wasn’t tempted,” Thomas said,
“but I’m afraid we have to…” he stopped as a new thought suddenly struck him. “Hey, is there any chance y’all can temper this sword?”

With the eyes of three different dwarves on him, Thomas drew the General’s sword from its sheath. As soon as the blue-hued blade caught the light, all three of them shared an identical gasp.

“It can’t be…” Gilkor said, “not the General’s blade?”

“That
be the one,” Thomas replied, “and the thing is duller than a butter knife and most of its power has been all used up.”

“Then you’ve got a long way to go, friend,” one of the dwarves working the forge said. He had a red beard that nearly reached his toes, and Thomas was both sure and terrified that he was going to set it ablaze.
“Only the originals can make that blade whole again.”

“The originals?”
Thomas repeated, bemused.

“
Aye,” Gilkor replied, “the Makers.”

Thomas felt a thrill run down his spine that seemed quite strange for the
circumstances at hand. Maybe it was just the reverence that Gilkor said the name with. “Who are the Makers?”

“A Maker,” Gilkor explained, “is the very best a dwarf smith can become.
The best. They say the Makers can forge a castle from a single plate of steel. That’s um… that’s ridiculous, o’ course, but you get the point.”

Thomas nodded. Being a Maker sounded wonderful. For a fleeting moment, Thomas wondered if there were any Maker-like classes for stable boys. Maybe he could be the first!

Cynthia’s voice brought him back to reality.

“So we need to see the Makers to fix the sword?”

“Aye lass,” Gilkor replied, “only the original forgers can put it right again.”

Thomas nodded, even as he tried to surpress as sigh. It seemed every time they got a step closer, two more steps would appear to block them.

Then their journey got even more complicated.

“So where are these Makers?” Zach asked, inserting himself into the conversation for the first time.

“They’re on top of the mountain, where the volcano and the river meet,” Gilkor said. He stated it as pure fact, but the very notion of the sentence left Thomas and his friends completely shocked. Top of a mountain? With a volcano and a river?

“I’m sorry,” Thomas said, trying and failing to come to grips with what he was hearing, “what?”

“Aye. The peak of that there mountain, Mount Caminus.”

Thomas followed Gilkor’s pointing finger
to a cliff so high it was encompassed by the clouds.

“That’s a bit of a trek,” was all Thomas was capable of saying.

“Not to worry. In about a week, the smoke will clear, signaling the time that we can approach.”

That news both shocked and didn’t sit well with Thomas, whose jaw only dropped further.

“What?” he said, “we have to wait a week just ta meet with the Makers?”

“Oh yeah.
The smoke means they’re forging something, and trying to climb the path is just plain dangerous. Once the smoke clears, then we can head up.”

“We?”
Thomas said, noticing immediately, “you’re coming with us?”

“You’ll need a guide. Going up there alone is almost guaranteed to kill you.”

“Oh,” Thomas replied. At last, some good news, “well thank you kindly.”

“But what do we do in the meantime?” Zach
asked, a look of complete unease on his face. “We don’t have a lot of time to just wait around.”

Thomas paced thoughtfully, trying to pull together everything he knew. It was quite a lot to sift through, but eventually he managed to pull most of it together.

“We train,” he said. “We hone our abilities. If the Keeper’s here, we learn what he’s willing to teach us. He teaches you the sword, he teaches me magic. We can learn to forge. We spend every waking hour learning how to fight those things.”

“What should I do?” Cynthia asked. Just the way her voice sounded, as if the words had been
forced from her throat, made it clear that she had never before been allowed to ask such a question. So as such, there was only one real answer.

“Whatever you want, darling.
Learn to fight. Learn to forge. Learn to wield magic. Whatever you want to do, go do.”

Cynthia looked away, and Thomas couldn’t begin to guess what the girl was thinking.
After a few moments, she turned back to them with a coy smile that made Thomas’ hair stand on end, as if his cells had been charged.