Chapter 9

Brynn stayed focused on Grimcairn as he walked across the field, trying his best not to the let the gloomy spirits influence his emotions. As he approached the great mound of stones, he saw that it was even larger than he realized. To his surprise, the spirits of the individual rocks had somehow been convinced to stick next to each other. These magical forces were the only thing stopping the structure from crumbling into the ground.

The sheer absurdity of it left Brynn astounded. Communicating with rock spirits was usually futile. A rock’s thought processes—if you could call them that—extended into eons. A mortal’s entire life was the merest blip in time to them. Finding a mutual common ground to understand each other was next to impossible.

And yet somehow countless numbers of stones had been convinced into forming Grimcairn.

Brynn paused uneasily. His instincts told him to turn and run. The fallen spirits and the bleak tomb spoke of dark forces at work. Yet he had chosen to follow the elves when he crossed the river. Now he had to accept the consequences. Looking down at his bound hands, he knew what that was. He was their prisoner.

“Spectacular, isn’t it?” Seleeku said, nodding at Grimcairn.

“This place is dangerous, Seleeku,” Brynn replied. “We shouldn’t be here.”

Seleeku chuckled. “I know it all looks spooky, Brynn, but the Supreme Warlock has been living here for over a year. He hasn’t encountered anything dangerous so far.” Her smile faltered when she saw Brynn’s troubled expression.

Brynn remained unsettled as they continued across the field. When they finally neared the low hill upon which Grimcairn crouched, he saw Mattissa near the fireplace tending to a cooking pot set above the flames. The scent of a hearty vegetable stew wafted down the hill, causing his stomach to growl. Nessana had just reached the top of the hill and was approaching Mattissa.

A narrow path zigzagged up the grassy knoll. Brynn tiredly trudged up it. Only the prospect of a meal gave him any impetus to move forward. He reached the top with Seleeku and Dorosi, glancing warily at the precariously bound rocks that made up Grimcairn. He thought he could feel a low, deep humming reverberating from the mound.

“Have you spoken to the Supreme Warlock?” Nessana was asking Mattissa.

Mattissa shook her head. “No one was here when I arrived. There’s a small garden and storage shed on the other side, so I gathered some ingredients to make dinner.”

“Have to you tried the door?” asked Nessana.

“I pounded on it as hard as I could. No answer. I finally tried to open it, but it won’t budge.”

Nessana walked over to door. There was no handle in sight so he vainly shoved at it. It was immovable. He took a step back and observed it with a perplexed look.

“Where could he have gone?” he mumbled to himself. Then he turned back to the rest of the group. “It’s nearly dark, so we have to make camp. We’ll search for the Supreme Warlock in the morning. Mattissa will finish dinner. Dorosi, see if you can scrounge up some bedding for us from the storage shed. Seleeku, keep an eye on the human.”

Nessana went back to investigating the door, his face so close that his nose was nearly touching it, as if he were searching for secret runes hidden among the wood grain. Dorosi left for the storage shed while Mattissa turned her attention back to dinner. Seleeku motioned Brynn to a flat area over on the side.

With his hands bound, Brynn clumsily fell into a sitting position on the ground. He was tired. And hungry. And his clothes were still damp and muddy from the river. He had hoped to get some answers in the Far Forest, but instead found himself captive to the elves. Had he made the wrong choice? Should he have faced justice in Galdir instead?

“What’s it like, talking to spirits?” Seleeku interrupted his somber thoughts. She had folded herself gracefully down to the ground, sitting in front of him, her legs crossed and her back straight. Her quarterstaff was neatly placed on her lap.

“Everyone can talk to spirits,” Brynn responded.

“You know what I mean. You can communicate with them. You can … see them.”

Brynn balked. He didn’t like to talk about his ability. How to explain to someone what the world truly looked like when they could only see a shadow of reality? And besides, he had never met anyone who truly believed him.

“My sense of the spirit world is blurry,” Brynn replied. Which was true—he was only a mortal, after all.

“Can all druids talk to spirits like you do?” she asked.

Brynn silently shook his head.

“Why are you really here, Brynn?”

“I told you—I was exiled.”

“You mentioned something about a ‘grave danger’ when we first met.”

When the they first met? It seemed so long ago, but was only just this morning. “I had a vision of darkness taking over this land. It started from somewhere in the Far Forest. I need to find a way to stop it from happening.”

“Do you know where this darkness is in the Forest?”

“No,” said Brynn, quietly.

The sun had set and the field was becoming dark. The spirits out there had no interest in getting close to Grimcairn. Seleeku looked like she was lost in her own thoughts. Or was she meditating? It was hard to tell in the dim light.

A rustling noise startled Brynn out of his reverie. It was just Dorosi returning with a bundle of thin straw sleeping mats. Mattissa was also motioning for them to come over for dinner. Seleeku unfolded herself to a standing position and stood over Brynn.

“Don’t try to escape,” she said as she freed his hands.

Brynn groaned as Seleeku helped him up, his tired legs wobbling underneath him. The group gathered around the fireplace while Mattissa ladled out her stew. It was a simple stew of root vegetables, but to him it was pure bliss.

Nessana stared pointedly at Brynn’s unbound hands.

“He needs both hands to eat, Scout Leader,” Seleeku answered his unspoken question. “Unless you want us to spoon-feed him.”

Nessana sighed. “Where do you think the Supreme Warlock went?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Maybe something happened to him in Grimcairn,” replied Brynn. Nessana glared at him for having the temerity to speak up.

“He could be right, Scout Leader,” Seleeku interjected. “Perhaps we should try to enter again tomorrow morning. If we can’t, then we scout around the area and see if we can find his trail.”

Nessana scowled, but finally nodded. “Mattissa? Dorosi? What do you think?”

Mattissa gave a disinterested nod in return. Dorosi, who was still looking at Brynn nervously, blanched.

“You mean to go inside Grimcairn?” His voice squeaked just a little on the last word.

“Yes, if we can find a way to get in. The door is solidly shut, most likely by magic,” Nessana said. He finished the remaining stew in his bowl. “Dorosi, bind this human’s hands again. And his feet. We don’t want him to go running off into the night. Seleeku, you keep watch. I’ll help Mattissa clean up. Then I’ll set a watch order for tonight and we’ll all get some much needed rest.”

---

Brynn woke with a start. He had been sound asleep on one of the straw mats when a sharp bang jolted him awake. A dim glow invaded the edge of his vision. Was it the fireplace? No, the embers were dark. The door! The entrance to Grimcairn was open! The faint glow was coming from within.

He stood up and looked around. His hands and feet were curiously unbound. The field surrounding Grimcairn was inky black. From the feeble light provided by the entrance, Brynn could see that the other straw mats were empty. The elves were gone.

Brynn went up to the entrance. A roughly hewn tunnel stretched off into the distance, angled slightly downwards. Had the elves left him behind and gone inside? Brynn turned around and looked again. If the elves were hiding out there somewhere, there was no way he could see them. He listened as carefully as could, but it was silent. Even the normal sounds of the surrounding field and forest were muted.

Brynn stepped inside. He would go a short distance to investigate, always keeping the entrance in sight …

… He stood before a steep rocky stairway winding down into darkness. How long had he been traveling? He vaguely remembered running away from a vicious murder of underground crows, marveling at a majestic subterranean oak tree, creeping through a cavern of bones—how had he wound up here? His memory of it was all so fuzzy. He doubted he could find his way back to the entrance. Better to press on.

The “stairway” was just a narrow tunnel that spiraled down into the depths. Slippery wet rocks acted as footholds or “stairs.” Brynn gingerly stepped down them, bracing his hands against the walls as best he could. It all reminded him of his river crossing earlier that day. What was that noise?

An initial trickle of water running past his feet was his only other warning. He was looking down at it when the noise became a roar. A foamy, angry wall of water swept him from his feet. He tumbled down the rocky stairs, bouncing against the tunnel walls as it spun him around and around and around. He grasped futilely for hand holds, finally somehow pushing himself above the waves to get a small gasp of air before being sucked under again. He panicked and thrashed about. He was going to die …

… He was standing at the entryway to a tomb. It was a round room, empty except for a stone coffin in the center. The coffin lid was long gone, and laying inside it—nearly overflowing out of it—was a man. A very large man. His legs dangled unnaturally out one end, while his head was propped up, lopsided, on the other side. His massive arms cradled a tome that looked tiny in his hands.

“Backstabber!” the man cried, stirring. “It took you long enough!” He heaved himself out of the coffin. Joints popped and clicked from limbs that had long been still.

“Kodroth?!”

“The One and Only!” he exclaimed while he straightened his twisted neck with a grotesque snap. Then he held up his book for Brynn to see. Brynn instantly recognized it as The Codex of Essus.

“The Old Ones are always an interesting read, aren’t they, Backstabber?” He started flipping through random pages.

“You’re holding it upside down.”

Kodroth eyes flicked down to the tome. “You and your druids think you know everything,” he replied defensively. “Maybe you’re the ones who have been reading it wrong all along. You know the words to the Old Tongue, but do you know their meaning?” He dismissively tossed the Codex down onto the floor between them.

“Are you in league with a demon, Kodroth?”

“Do you mean Esuries? It’s a force of nature, Backstabber. Am I in league with the sea when it gives me fair sailing?”

“Esuries? Is that the demon’s True Name?” Brynn had learned that demons kept their True Names secret because it gave others power of them.

But Kodroth just chuckled. “Mortals will forever be ruled by their stomachs. That will never change. True Name or no, Esuries has nothing to fear from the likes of you.”

Brynn thought back to his encounter with the demon at Galdir. A sudden realization left him feeling cold. The demon hadn’t just been hungry. It was hunger.

“What do you want from me, Kodroth?”

“You’re just full of questions, aren’t you, Backstabber? Go inside Grimcairn. You’ll find your answers. Some of them, at least.”

Inside Grimcairn? Wasn’t he already inside? No, that wasn’t right. “We tried to enter,” Brynn said, “but couldn’t.”

“Have you tried to enter, Backstabber? I think not.”

“Why do you keep calling me Backstabber?” Brynn asked. The name irked him.

“I thought we went over this already?” Kodroth replied. “Ohh, I see now. Dreams are fickle things aren’t they? Some stay with you for life. Others fade with the dawn’s light.”

A sudden fear gripped Brynn’s heart, paralyzing him. “You need to remember our conversations, Backstabber! Otherwise all my efforts will go to waste. We can’t have that can we? Wake up, Brynn! Wake up!”

---

“Wake up, Brynn! Wake up!” Seleeku shouted. She was shoving his shoulder with her boot.

“Whaaat?” Brynn mumbled groggily. Where was the tomb? Kodroth? The morning light temporarily blinded him.

“Wyverns are heading our way, Brynn. We have to move!”

Wyverns! Brynn jolted awake and sat up. Seleeku took out a knife and began cutting his bonds. “Where are the others?” Brynn asked while she released his hands.

“They’re heading for the woods. I volunteered to stay behind and free you. Let’s go!” Seleeku cut the last of the rope binding his feet.

Brynn stood up and surveyed the surrounding field. The other elves were already halfway across, heading for the cover of the forest. They were certainly fast runners. There was no way Brynn would be able to keep up with Seleeku if she was similarly quick.

The wyverns were high in the sky and fast approaching. They were distant cousins of dragons. They could be as large as a horse and flew with wide leathery wings. They had two legs with piercing claws, a whip-like tail, and a head full of razor sharp teeth. They were clever, nimble, and liked to travel in packs. At least a half a dozen were heading towards them.

Brynn knew he wouldn’t make it to the forest before they arrived. He had doubts Seleeku would either, even if she abandoned him and ran as fast as she could.

“Let’s go!” Seleeku repeated, a desperate note creeping into her voice.

“We won’t make it.”

“What choice do we have?”

Have you tried to enter, Backstabber? I think not.

“Grimcairn. I think I can get us in,” Brynn replied.

“How?”

“I … I don’t know.”

“You’re not very convincing.”

“What choice do we have?” Brynn retorted. He saw his pack on the ground, grabbed it, and ran towards the door.

He stared at it blankly. What to do? It was a simple wooden door. He could sense a spirit there, old and stubborn. The elves had obviously entered before, but something had changed. What could he do to reach it?

Something tickled Brynn’s memories. He stepped up closer, his nose nearly touching the door, and studied the patterns of the wood grain. He recognized it from the botanical books he studied in the Library of Galdir. The wood was from a rare and magnificent oak, thought to be lost to time. But he had seen one just recently, hadn’t he? One still living. Had it known he would come here?

He reached into his pack and grabbed the acorns, holding them out to the door.

“You have a sister, still alive. She wanted me to bring these to you.”

The door replied with a vision—a vision of a massive tree in front of Grimcairn, reaching up to the sky, its roots crumbling the very foundations of the rocky barrow, crushing it with the force of centuries. Grimcairn was ruined and the tree was triumphant.

Brynn wondered what would happen to the spirits of the field. There was no time to think about that now. “We need to plant these,” Brynn said to Seleeku.

A flicker of disbelief crossed Seleeku’s face. “We don’t have time!”

“It’s the only way.” Brynn strode briskly away from the door, stopping when he felt he was a suitable distance away. He began digging at the ground with his hands.

Seleeku stepped up next to him and began to help. Brynn had just finished up covering a few seeds when he heard her shout, “Watch out!”

The next moment was a blur. Seleeku pushed him aside with surprising force, sending him tumbling away. A loud thump, a cloud of dust, and then a sight to curdle the blood in his veins.

A wyvern had landed on top of Seleeku, wings spread high in the air, one of its clawed feet pinning her to the ground, talons piercing her body. Its mouth was open, teeth gleaming, poised to finish its prey.

“Run!” cried Seleeku, weakly.

Brynn was paralyzed with fear. His mind froze. A ringing filled his ears and his vision was fading …

Mortals will forever be ruled by their stomachs.

With great anguish, he forced his limbs to move, terrified tendons snapping and popping in protest. He reached into his pack and withdrew the last of the smoked fish that he still had. He threw it as hard as he could, angling it just over the head of the wyvern.

The wyvern instinctively tracked the movement. It picked up the scent of the smoked fish immediately. It promised something new. Exotic. Tasty.

The fish went past the wyvern and down the hillside. Ignoring Seleeku, the wyvern jumped after it.

Brynn ran over to Seleeku. Her bloodied, battered body lay still.

“Brynn …” she barely whispered.

With a strength driven by mad fear, Brynn hauled Seleeku over his shoulder and stumbled-ran towards the entrance of Grimcairn. The door was open. A dim glow came from within.

The wyvern was returning. Brynn could hear its scaly hide rustling up the grassy hillside.

Brynn staggered towards the doorway.

His hair stood on end. He could feel the wyvern just behind him.

He willed his struggling legs to lurch through the entrance.

The door slammed shut with a sharp bang.

Brynn was inside Grimcairn.