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"Yet convincing enough that most people avoid the trees at most costs," said Jerret.
"I've been in there before," said Cade blandly. "If you want me to hold you ..." His words trailed off, offering his hand to Jerret who slapped it aside. With mutual jeering the youths ventured into the darkness, leaving Cedrik to stare after them.
"Derek. Get back here!" he called in his most commanding voice but was ignored. "Curse it all," muttered Cedrik fiercely, as he plunged in after them.
The trees, dark and stately, were evenly s.p.a.ced and made easy pa.s.sage. Cedrik and Derek trailed behind the others. They could see their forms just ahead, huddled closely together, nudging and whispering to one another with muted jeering, as though fearful of waking a slumberous thing.
Derek could not suppress a shudder. The woods seemed haunted with an unfriendly cold, and had elements of dread that those even with a lesser imagination than himself would feel. There was an unstirring silence that could almost be heard breathing in the darkness, as though the trees would reveal themselves as something more than silent observers. From within shadows they seemed to pa.s.s hushed whispers amongst themselves, secretly, then, fading away, were again silent.
Derek began to feel strange influences creep over him, almost as though the woods wanted him to leave his companions and wander farther into hidden places. He held off the peculiar desires, and glanced at his brother every now and then, to see if he had any of the same feelings, but Cedrik's face was inscrutable and set like steel. His gaze roamed fiercely about, as if he antic.i.p.ated danger at every turn.
Derek caught sight of something that made him stop and squint. He thought he had glimpsed movement. "Did you see that?" he whispered urgently.
"No. Keep up. This was your idea," said Cedrik, looking forward at the backs of the other men. They had become quiet, but were still high-spirited and animated with the thrill of dread.
Keeping closely beside his brother, Derek peered into the surrounding gloom with an anxiousness amounting nearly to terror. He felt something was with them. He could not see it, but its presence was very real. It emerged in a secret way, moving with them and watching. It was drawing nearer, closing in upon them. The air became thin, and Derek knew it would very soon reveal itself to them.
A sense of dread rose within him, growing hot in his chest. He was straining to hear. At last he came to such a state of terror that the slightest of sounds would have brought his heart into his mouth. Breathing hard, he dared not look over his shoulder, lest he should see the nocturnal object of terror standing at his back. For a moment his eyes closed. He hoped it was but the shadow and wind deceiving him.
Something had moved stealthily within the shadows; a shape of blackness, insect-like. During its nocturnal prowling it had observed the youths and became curious. Creeping through the branches of the trees, it moved unnaturally and with difficulty, yet secretly as with purpose. It watched them, peering down through the foliage. Its black and featureless face was expressionless as a spider, with bulging yellow eyes, unwholesome and cunning. Protruding from the back of its head was a single great horn, black and sleek as the rest of its preternatural body.
Something must have gone terribly wrong with the laws of nature for such a creature to exist, keeping to the shadows like things that are born ashamed of themselves and wish never to be seen.
Derek drew a shuddering breath. He knew he was in serious danger of forever disgracing himself with a shriek.
"This is it." He heard one of the boys say, breaking the vile spell that had hold of him, and he was relieved when they came to a stop. The fear dispersed and was quickly replaced by the thrill of adventure.
"We're here," said Cade. "This is where it all happens."
Chapter19.
Underground -hey stood in a clearing in the wood. "This is where what all happens?" asked Derek, vaguely expectant, looking around and seeing only trees. Then he heard one of the youths speak strange and incomprehensible words. Everything seemed to shift; the air around him rippled unpleasantly, and he began to feel lightheaded. A slight tremor deep within the earth was so subtle he thought he was imagining it, when there came a soft rumble from somewhere, and he felt the earth vibrate violently beneath his feet, forcing him to brace himself to keep balance.
"What the-" Derek broke off with a cry. The ground was breaking and shifting, collapsing in on itself, layers upon layers falling away. Jolted into action, the young men scrambled-running upon elusive ground that perpetually crumbled beneath their feet. It was falling too quickly for Derek to even see where his brother was, and he made a leap forward, but his foot found no support and he fell, digging his fingers into the earth, and with a final effort tried to pull himself up. He wanted to cry out with fear but choked it back. Dust was getting into his mouth and eyes. He had not gripped onto anything stable and soon fell away with the crumbling ma.s.s.
After a considerable drop, he found himself facedown on a stone floor, along with the others. He could taste earth in his mouth and could hear loud sounds from a crowd of enthusiastic people somewhere close by. The boys staggered to their feet. They were in a stone chamber of sorts and could see dimly down a narrow corridor. From high above pieces of rock and dirt showered down as the earth reclosed.
Derek looked down at his grazed hands; they stung and burned as if he had run them over fire. Then he felt his brother's hand heavy on his shoulder turning him round.
"Are you hurt?" asked Cedrik, dusting him down.
"No. You?"
"I feel like my back's broken. Whichever mad fool uttered those accursed words, I'm going to break his back."
"That would be me," came a voice behind. Over his shoulder Cedrik saw a young man with a smug smile. His eyes flickered and rippled with a peculiar hue. Cedrik muttered something derisive about magic-users and ruffled the dust out of his hair.
"Where are we?" one of them asked. The sounds of collective cheering could still be heard.
Cade called to them, "This way, lads," as he turned and disappeared round a corner, with a haste betokening great excitement.
"I think I have dirt lodged in my brain," said Jerret, snorting into the sleeve of his shirt, as he and the others followed after. The rough pa.s.sageway led straight on, and they discovered at the end that an illusionary wall masked a pa.s.sage.
Walking through it, they found themselves in a large stone chamber, and were almost engulfed by the blind enthusiasm of a crowd of young men, cheering at something happening in the centre. Cedrik estimated there were at least two hundred of them and wondered where they had all come from. Shouting as loud as their lungs would allow, the fools cried out encouragement and curses alike.
Cedrik could see flashes of magic. He had lost sight of his mad companions but kept close to his brother as they forced their way through the moving bodies, keeping an eye out for Deacon. Hoa.r.s.e shouts rang in their ears. As they neared the centre, they glimpsed at what the youths cheered, and could guess what they were up to.
"Magic duelling is illegal!" Cedrik's voice of alarm did not rise above the excited cries, and no one, including his brother, paid any notice. Masculine energy charged the air like an intoxicant. Derek was exhilarated, feeling the thrill of danger like a drug that rushed directly to his head. His insides churned. Cedrik did not share his enthusiasm and seemed overwhelmed by the volatile atmosphere, surcharged with the fumes of adrenalin. All this exertion and these violent pa.s.sions, radiating within the enclosure, made the temperature stifling, yet the young men seemed determined to enjoy themselves despite the inconveniences caused by noise, heat, and overcrowding.
Spells blistered the air and turned it static. Then a loud clap, as if lightning had struck something, resounded throughout the chamber and excited an overwhelming response from the crowd. Cedrik pushed his way through to the middle, where two young men were hemmed in on every side by rioting youths. The vague anxiety he had felt soon changed into a great dread. He had found his cousin.
In the intensity of his concentration Deacon appeared blind to all but his opponent. Calmly he stood, gathering thousands of tiny charged particles into his open palms, till they became one great ma.s.s of destructive energy that spat and thrummed between his hands. The p.r.i.c.kling sensation swept over Cedrik, and he watched Deacon suddenly hurl the ma.s.s, backed with the full force of his shoulder, at his opponent. Only just rising from the last a.s.sault, the youth was sent a distance into the crowd, which scattered to move out of the way.
"Deacon!" called Cedrik. But his voice was drowned down and lost among shouts.
"He's been here for hours!" said someone next to him, in a tone approaching admiration. "No one can bring him down!"
"I can bring him down," Cedrik muttered fiercely and took a step forward, but the person put out a detaining arm.
"I wouldn't," was the warning. Cedrik turned on the man, but something in his face told him to pay heed. Reluctantly Cedrik stood back, watching to see the outcome.
Refusing to remain down, the youth disentangled himself from the crowd, tense and with clenched fists. He had enjoyed the most unbounded reputation for being undefeated, and in coming to a fixed determination that this reputation would remain intact, he again proceeded forward, but Deacon, with one single stroke of his arm, hurled him again, dashing him with great force against the wall. The youth was relentless, getting to his feet each time and returning with unfailing perseverance. They both were wearied, particularly Deacon, who had been taxing his powers of endurance several hours longer. He faltered momentarily, doubled over in pain, and his opponent took advantage of the moment.
Humiliation fuelling his animosity, he strode to Deacon and made a pa.s.s at his head with a clenched fist, but Deacon deftly evaded the stroke, seized him by the collar and fetching him forward, tossed him to the ground. He tried to stand, but Deacon brought down his fist, striking him with such force he was rendered momentarily senseless.
"This is ridiculous," said Cedrik, seeing that it had degenerated into a mere fistfight. Determined to break it up, he started forward, but the same person prevented him. Cedrik, exasperated to hostility, was at the point of taking a swing at somebody himself, when there was a sudden flash of blinding light. Quickly he turned, only in time to see the opponents had been tossed to opposite ends of the chamber. Both lay motionless a moment, then, neither willing to be thwarted, rose to their feet.
The youth was the first to revive. His hands broke into flame, and as he strode forward he hurled flashes of fire, one after the other, toward his tormentor. But no flame could reach Deacon. With downward swipes of his hands Deacon snuffed them out in an almost impatient fury, as though the youth's arrogance annoyed him. He wanted more. He wanted to push his endurance to its limits. This boy was nothing to him. Extinguishing the flames took very little toll on Deacon and enabled him a moment's reprieve, so that his energy now served him anew.
Cedrik and his brother watched in mute awe Deacon's tremendous display of power. He always executed his magic with full command and mastery, but the fever of rage began to burn in his chest, and he let his pain rain down on his opponent, as if under the direction of some cruel force. So savage was he with the youth, they feared Deacon would utterly destroy him.
With a storm of the fiercest blows, Deacon drove his opponent backwards until he was looming over him, releasing all of his acc.u.mulated misery in a fiery barrage upon the youth, who, finally weakened beyond endurance, sank to his knees, barely shielding himself from the full force. Deacon positioned himself directly over him, the heat of his anger raining down on the youth.
Cedrik was trying to decide the best course of action to take, but then the fiery torrent suddenly ceased to pour forth. Deacon waited, breathing heavily. No longer could he hear the crowd for the pounding in his ears. He was consumed by the violent ecstasies that pulsed through his blood. His eyes, dark and concentrated, stayed fixed upon those of the youth, whose own breath was far more shallow and fast.
Cedrik waited in suspense, fearful of his cousin's inflammability. It was too late to react, when he realized Deacon was not reconsidering. Gathering his strength for the final blow, Deacon drew on an intense amount of power. He could feel, with satisfaction, the pulsing force course through him like lightning, igniting each cell. Waves of energy travelled over Deacon's limbs and engulfed his entire body. He felt intensely the pressure build within him, until it was impossible to contain. He was on the brink of releasing it, when slowly he lifted his eyes to see his cousins, to see a striking similitude between the brothers as they stared with expressions of horror, but he was past the point of being able to hold back. The pressure came upon him before he could gather his forces for control, and suddenly, all his blood exulting in his release, it was discharged.
Giving a sharp cry, the youth slumped to the ground. Heavy convulsions shook the body; then it was still. The nostrils gradually filled with blood. With his heart slamming, Deacon stood back from the form sprawled there, inert. Diminutive blue threads of energy writhed across Deacon's body. Some of the more violent sparks singed and burned his flesh, but he was oblivious to them. His entire frame shook with the adrenalin coursing in his blood, and his breath came in ragged gasps. He had quickly consumed his energy by reason of its very violence.
He dragged his hands down his hot face. Sweat stung his eyes. He felt relief and a deep sense of gratification, but to see the broken form who had paid the cost for his release shocked and distressed him.
When it was noticed the youth did not stir, a deep silence filled the room. No one dared approach the motionless form, who now had blood trickling down from his nose into his slightly opened mouth. The horrified stupor lasted only a few moments, before whispers pa.s.sed round, and Deacon felt wide eyes staring.
Suddenly his strength abandoned him entirely and he pushed through the crowd with an urgent need to get out. Cedrik and Derek lost sight of him as he staggered and stumbled through the men who stood dumb and reluctant to move. A number of his friends gathered about the unconscious youth until finally, and at last, he came to.
When Cedrik saw that the youth had escaped death, he and Derek quickly threaded their way through the crowd after Deacon. Coming to stand in the small stone chamber where they had first arrived, they stood looking upward, wondering how it was they were supposed to get back out. They had not seen how Deacon managed to leave and were relieved when Cade caught up with them.
"How, for pity's sake, do we get out of here!" said Derek. Then feeling anxious and frustrated, he commenced bouncing up and down, hoping to trigger something into action.
"We need to get out," Cedrik told Cade with some urgency.
"Wait here. I'll get Bayne," said Cade, and went to retrieve the obnoxious magic-user. When they returned Bayne said the strange words Cedrik thought to be the most d.a.m.nable he had ever heard, and without any warning he and Derek were drawn up as if by a powerful vacuum.
Their arms and legs flaying wildly, they felt as though falling upward, and continued this ascent with sickening speed, fearing they would be crushed against the earthen ceiling, but somehow it was soft and they broke through. They seemed to over shoot, however, and were again falling down, when they hit the hard ground, lying flat on their stomachs. Groaning with pain, they dragged themselves up, bruised bodies aching.
Again they found themselves in the dark wood. Not far from them was Deacon, leaning heavily, with his head on his forearm, against a tree. He wore his heavy elven-made cloak, yet still appeared to suffer from the unnatural cold.
Cedrik's anger was up. He went to Deacon and said almost into his ear. "Have you gone mad? You could have killed him!" Pushing off the tree with difficulty, Deacon turned to face them. His countenance, deathly pale, drew Cedrik's sympathy, and he said with less force than before, "You didn't kill him. But you easily could have." At this, he had hoped to see relief in his cousins face, but Deacon, feverish and weak, said nothing and showed no sign of relief or remorse. Again Cedrik grew cross. "Have you no regard for life, then? Your own, even?"
Deacon only stared with a sardonic, almost cruel gaze. Cedrik regarded him with mingled anger and pity. He was hunched over as though sickness beat down on him, and Cedrik saw now that he trembled.
"I know you're trying to kill your pain," said Cedrik with a pleading reproach. "But you're only killing yourself. You can't keep-"
"Tell me!" Deacon demanded with sudden energy. "Must everyone feel the need to counsel me on grief? This is my pain! And I will deal with it in my own way," he said, as though a wave of exhaustion had taken all strength from his voice.
"You-" Cedrik's reproof died as he looked at Deacon and saw his lips had become stained with blood. "Your mouth," he said with sudden alarm.
Deacon went white and staggered as if about to fall. Reaching out a hand, Cedrik tried to support him, but Deacon shoved it aside. "Get away from me," he rasped, wiping blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. His body, stooped over, was racked with pain. It was so severe Cedrik feared Deacon would lose consciousness. Deacon sagged against the tree for support. He was pasty white and sweating with the chills.
Cedrik and Derek looked on helplessly. They could see that their cousin was sinking in more than one way.
"You look like you just went twelve rounds with a stone wall," said Cade from behind. He went boldly over to Deacon. "You'll be all right." He clapped him heavily on the back. Cedrik and Derek winced with sympathy. They knew for him, being Riven, it was far more serious than if any other mage had overtaxed himself. Deacon didn't move but swallowed hard and looked as if he might throw up.
"How does that boy fare?" asked Cedrik, wanting to draw Cade's sympathetic attentions away from Deacon.
"Ah, the lad's fine," said Cade. "These fights can often get brutal. I once saw a fellow I know get three fingers blown clean off. The poor beggar can't count past seven now." Cade's laughter died when no one else accompanied him. He sighed. "Well, we should move on before trouble comes looking for us. Your hero here just nearly killed one of the Nolan brothers, and they're pretty mean when you get all five together."
Cedrik frowned. "Perfect."
Cade looked as though it was all a joke to him. "Come back to my place," he said, his tone brisk and certain. "You can get your things from the inn when morning comes."
"Where do you live?" asked Derek.
"Down by the water. Come on." He shook Deacon into mobility. "Let's get you out of here before we have to drag your carcase out."
All four moved off through the wood. Deacon lagged behind, arms clasped round his shoulders. Occasionally Cedrik glanced back to see if he was still with them and couldn't help but feel eerie. Deacon appeared dark and strange as he pa.s.sed silently through the shadows of the trees.
The cottages were all locked and darkened in sleep as they weaved their way through to Cade's home. The night air was heavy with the smell of damp vegetation. Quietly, the boys stepped up onto the porch. Cade turned the handle and put his weight against the door, but it didn't budge. Stepping back, he said incredulously, "The old hag locked me out again."
"Old hag?" Derek echoed, keeping his voice down.
"My grandmother," said Cade. "We'll have to go around back." The boys shuffled out of the way as he turned and went back down the steps.
"You live with your grandmother?" Derek whispered, as they made their way round the side of the cottage. They stopped at a stone half-wall that enclosed a small piece of land, which served as a backyard. Cade and the brothers vaulted over easily, followed by Deacon, who climbed up and dropped over the side with a grunt of pain, pulling his cloak protectively about himself.
Cade knelt down by the house and found that the bas.e.m.e.nt door was bolted on the outside. He rattled it in frustration.
"What now?" asked Cedrik in a low, impatient voice.
"She locked this one, too," said Cade. Then, motioning to the lock, he turned to Deacon. "Can you?"
"Don't," said Cedrik and laid a firm hand on Deacon. "Why did she lock you out if you are welcome?"
Cade didn't appear to hear the note of mistrust but stood up, turned to Cedrik, and said, in a fierce whisper, "Because she locks the door at night when she goes to bed. This is not so friendly an area, if you haven't yet found that out yourself."
"Why haven't you a key?" said Cedrik, mildly.
Cade sighed sharply. "She doesn't like me coming home in the night. Which is why I haven't a blasted key!" He looked sheepish for a moment. "It's a kind of punishment for if I'm home too late," he said, looking about himself as if bored.
Cedrik ground his jaw, thinking. It didn't seem likely that Cade would invite them back to a place where he had to force an unlawful entry.
Cade bent down and picked up a st.u.r.dy rock. "This is going to cost me," he said, stepping forward as if he meant to put it through the gla.s.s window. They heard a clink of chains and turned to see that Deacon had unlocked the door to the bas.e.m.e.nt.
"Ah, good!" said Cade, tossing the rock aside. He stooped down and heaved open the wooden doors. "Well, move on," he said. "Let's not wait for this one to drop dead." He led the way down the few steps into a bas.e.m.e.nt filled with wooden boxes and storage cupboards and up a stairwell into an unlit corridor.
Feeling cramped, Cedrik thought the house to be as dreary as the inn they had swapped it for, but when Cade opened the door he saw a neat room, with a fire burning low, and a kettle on the hob.
"Are you certain this is no trouble," Cedrik began, but dropped into silence. Cade indicated, with a nod of his head, his old grandmother sleeping in a chair. A frayed blanket was draped over her thin legs. The boys immediately lightened their step and, like thieves in the night, made their way toward the staircase.
Cade had got one foot on the first step when his grandmother stirred. Almost b.u.mping into one another's backs, they froze as if caught in some act of mischief. Sitting forward in her chair, she couldn't clearly see in the subdued light. Not wanting her to be afraid, Cade said casually, "Go back to sleep. It's only me. Some friends of mine are going to stay with us awhile."
Cedrik almost swallowed his tongue. He would never speak to his mother so presumptuously, and quickly added, "If it doesn't prove an inconvenience."
Cade shook his head with a look that said: "Belly-crawler."
Cedrik's good manners were lost on the old woman. She gave a derisive snort and stared. Her gaze lingered particularly on Deacon who, looking ill, kept his head down, his lips white and compressed. Standing, he began to grow excessively weary.
"Get away now." She waved her hand and closed her eyes, sinking into her arm-chair. "Mind you don't keep one another awake with your foolishness," she muttered, as though speaking to children. Cade stared blankly at the old woman, sound asleep as though she hadn't once stirred, then turned swiftly and led his guests up stairs.
In the dark room, Cedrik's foot caught on something that almost sent him down. He cursed and stood still until he could see. When their host struck a light, Cedrik saw they had entered a room in the most astounding disorder, worse than Derek could ever hope to achieve. Deacon was sufficiently disgusted but crashed into the bed on the far side. It was the only one free from clutter.
"That's my bed," said Cade, but Deacon had fallen into a sleep that was more like unconsciousness. Looking incredulous, Cade set to work clearing off the other two beds. Cedrik and Derek watched him toss everything onto the floor, adding to the general disorder. "My brothers used to share this room with me," he said to make conversation, recklessly tossing things over his shoulder.
"There's only three beds," Derek said with dismay, knowing he would be the one to have to sleep on the floor with the rats.
"One of you can sleep next door in my sister's room," answered Cade simply, then threw a dirty shirt at Derek's face. "I'm the only one left with the old woman."
"Where is she now, your sister?" asked Derek, aghast at the idea of sleeping in a bed belonging to someone deceased.
"One of my sisters," said Cade, "lives with my parents. She stays here sometimes. The rest are round and about. My brothers and sisters all sort of went their own ways."
"Just how many brothers and sisters do you have?" asked Cedrik.