The Mists of Erantia (Realm of Arkon Book 7) Read online

  Is that jealousy I hear? I had no desire to argue with my better half.

  Idiot! Do you realize what she put into that.... Argh!!! Screw this blasted prophecy with its blasted laws and this whole blasted plane!

  Jaelitte's deafening screaming could only be likened to perhaps Nerghall's dying roar. And the unexpectedness of it nearly made me fumble the gauntlet.

  Uh, honey... After waiting for the echo to fade from my mind, I started delicately. You know that I adore the melodic timbre of your magical voice, but I fear that the magic might make me impotent way before our wedding night!

  Don't worry, I can reverse that, my wife quipped in a now-normal tone. In fact, I can even help you grow a—

  No need to grow anything, thank you very much! I cut her off, syllabicating every word.

  If you say so, Lita didn't argue. But don't even think about wearing that earring.

  Fine. What about Karn? What is your problem with it?

  Don't you feel anything? Oh, right, you're half human, my wife deigned to explain. For anyone with the true blood coursing through their veins, they can never feel comfortable here. It's the same as casting a human into the Netherworld. This alien world is a burden on us, but not on your demons...

  Is that because their ancestors are from here?

  My question was left without an answer, but I wasn't going to sweat it. Slipping the gauntlet on my hand, I rose from the log. The plan was the same—we would stay together for as long as we shared a path, and then we'd split up. Max would head off to seek out Kirana's temple, and we would set out for Vaedarr. I should remember to talk to Kan tomorrow—he should remember where Lars and Altus had picked up this sword. Perhaps there may be a clue to be found among those ruins?

  It was time to retire for the night.

  Casting one last gaze at the crowd settled around the campfire, I spun on my heels and made for my tent. No revelations were presenting themselves to me tonight, but perhaps morning might prove more amenable...

  Chapter 2

  "...and also if said two balls identical in size collide and subsequently diverge," Bonbon brought his fists together, then parted them to simulate the impact of two visualized balls. The moose jerked its head as one of the reins was pulled on, but changed neither its pace nor its trajectory. Yet another way in which game mounts differed from the real-world ones.

  "All the other forces impacting the balls at the same time are ignored, but that's not the main point," Bonbon held a dramatic pause, then turned toward Reece, who was riding to his right, and nodded at his right fist. "If the speed of one ball is twice that of the other after coordination, what does it mean for their respective masses?"

  "You said they were identical, didn't you?" riding on the warrior's left, Raena asked in surprise.

  "I said they were identical in size! But one ball may be made of iron, and the other of horse shit!" Bonbon shook his left fist, as if that somehow illustrated his point. And since it was precisely his left fist that was holding the reins, the moose proceeded to nod in agreement.

  "Hold on," Reece stopped him with a gesture. "You mentioned shit just now, and our commander is always going on about it as well. But nobody ever bothers to explain what that is. And now you're claiming that this substance is suitable for magic transmutation..."

  "Hmm," the warrior gave me a sidelong look, then sighed. "It is truly an arcane secret... Very well, boys and girls, I suppose you're ready to learn the true sacral meaning of this wondrous word... Now sit and brace yourself for the magical realm of physics."

  I gazed upon the road ahead with a mental sigh. Yep, they sure were assimilating. A bit too quickly and easily, for my liking, differences in race and social status notwithstanding. Then again, in this world Bonbon was also a noble. And yet, for all the countless times I had been brainwashed with ideas of universal equality and brotherhood back in my former world, my mind just couldn't reconcile those concepts with the visual of a bald dark elf explaining momentum conservation law to the son of Holgrim and Baroness an'Tari. Who were anything but elves. And he didn't even bother shifting, but simply summoned a moose purchased in the Wild Wood. And that wasn't even the half of it. Kan, Saverus, and all their officers were literally hounding Teetotaler and his fighters for tactics of dungeon runs. Vaessa's dragons were so popular the magus could make a fortune charging others to pet them, and as for Gloom... That black-furred traitor had become a veritable shadow of Alyona, following her literally everywhere. Not that I minded—simply, the fact that most of the women in our party treated him like a puppy was yet another thing that my mind just couldn't process. Or, perhaps, a piglet. Either way, both my sister and Tenderessa doted on the razorback. My sister... A cat... Admittedly, I was still getting used to the idea. Not a woman in a cat costume, mind you, but an actual cat—with a tail and whiskers and six-inch fangs and everything! Alas, there were no shrinks in this world, so I had no choice but to try and endure all this madness all by my lonesome.

  Having departed from camp at the crack of dawn, it wasn't even noon by the time our party rounded the mountains and headed down the road toward the point indicated on the map. The scenery had undergone a drastic change, now resembling Monument Valley. Stretching out as far as the eye could see were dunes of red sand, interspersed with patches of lush greenery. Further ahead rose solitary peaks that almost seemed like statues carved by men. Laid by unknown builders, the road was quite the scenic view, and reminded me of the stretch that began from the parking lot of The View Hotel. Oh, I had fond memories of that hotel thanks to a weekend spent there with an ex...

  I smiled at the memories as I examined the mountains in the distance. No, I didn't see the Three Sisters, nor Artist's Point, and the vegetation around the peaks was far richer. And then there were the birds roaming the area less than one hundred yards off the road that looked kind of like African ostriches.

  I couldn't shake the feeling that somewhere to the fore and west, a mere fifteen hours' ride on horseback, lay the pearl of the North Amerikan west coast... San Francisco. No, I wasn't pining to get back there, yet deep in my heart I missed this city, which I had grown to love. Just as I missed my native Moscow...

  "...returned from the lab, that underage cretin was literally on top of the desk with all the equipment, dancing," I heard the words behind me. "Of course, entire class notices me and stops laughing at once. Then the party boy turns around, turns pale in the face... And proceeds to slip and fall from the desk all the way down to the floor, shattering the voltmeter, ripping a few cables, and breaking his arm in the process. And that is what I call 'shit!'"

  "I thought I heard the commander refer to Rgharg by that word."

  "Well, that Rgharg was an unpleasant fellow, no doubt," Bonbon agreed. "But you had the freedom to snuff him out, whereas I was chewed out by the principal and stripped of my quarterly bonus. And then I got a visit from the mother of that numbsk... I mean, student. And then several more visits over the next two weeks. The whole family was a real piece of work," the warrior paused, fixed a bored Reece with a scrutinizing gaze, and then concluded. "Shit is something that happens at the wrong place and at the wrong time. It manifests in wondrous, mysterious ways, and has been part of the human experience since the existence of rock paintings."

  "What are rock paintings?" the question came from the ever-inquisitive mage.

  "See that mountain? I'll show you when we get there," Bonbon sniffed. "I just happen to have a bucket of paint and a brush. We'll have ourselves an art exhibit..."

  Evening was upon us. The setting sun was holding its own art exhibit, painting the mountaintops with shades of deep crimson, and casting long broken shadows across the valley. The air—scented with dry sand and field flowers—also changed direction, wafting freshness from the river.

  Practically a whole day on the road, and barely sixty miles to show for it. Then again, even on even surface we would struggle to keep a pace above five-six miles per hour. At least we didn't have a wagon—now that
would be a proper nightmare. According to the map, our destination was barely over a quarter mile from here. The Five-Finger Mountain, the final stop on our itinerary, stood beyond the massive rectangular cliff just ahead. The road skirted it from the right, and the "kitties," as Vaessa had dubbed Max's squad, probably already had it in their sights.

  "Mm-hmm," Max sounded off, as if reading my mind, setting off a strange kind of commotion in the recon channel.

  "What's happening?" I inquired.

  "Everyone's a freaking comic," he said, his voice breaking with glee. "Come and see for yourselves! We'll wait."

  Roughly a minute later the vanguard of our motley crew rounded the obstacles on our path, and beheld the Five-Finger Mountain in all its primordial glory.

  "Now this is a fine example of avant-garde art!" Bonbon exclaimed with delight, then threw a sly glance my way and added. "I'm not surprised, by the way! Your department is obviously staffed with real men! And he," the warrior stuck a finger at Alex who'd already shifted form, "he should be proud of his country. Who said Amerikans weren't creative and lacked sense of humor?"

  "How would you know it wasn't a Frenchman that drew this?" the ranger scoffed.

  "I don't care if he was an Eskimo!" the bald man roared over the chortling of Blades filing out from behind the rock. "All I know is he was a real man! Under the circumstances, he picked the exact right symbol. This way those Ancients will know right away what awaits them in the Great Forest. They'll be taking this route as well, from what I've gathered."

  The mountain itself mirrored its name no more than a ladle in the sky resembled a large polar bear. Now, sure, it was technically a mountain, and its protrusions did look like fingers... Or, rather, a finger. The middle one. About seventy five feet in length. In fairness, the other four were depicted as well—as part of a closed fist, viewed from the inner side. Meaning, this masterpiece of artistic expression was meant not for us, but for whoever would gaze upon it from the southeast. Yep, my former colleagues are a hoot all right. Gerid would piss himself with envy. Jokes aside, the Five-Finger Mountain was the smallest sibling in this mountain ridge. Perhaps seventy yards wide and seventy across, so, hopefully, it wouldn't take us long to find the cavern with the dead elf.

  "What's so funny, dar?" Vaessa pulled on the reins, fixing me with a bemused gaze.

  "The mountain is shaped like a vulgar gesture from the world we come from," I answered.

  "Well, I know that," the magus nodded. "But what's so funny about that?

  Now, what was I supposed to say? How would I explain some artist or programmer risking his job by expressing his distaste for his superiors in the painstaking designing this chunk of virtual rock and hiding it amid its siblings?

  "You would have to be born in that world to get it," I shook my head dubiously while gazing at the rock.

  "Oh, auntie, won't you drop the innocence act," Reece scoffed behind us. "You weren't feigning chastity seeing these things back at the Derelict Temple. What's changed? Is the size too big for you this time?"

  "You've got it all wrong, young man," the magus gave an easy shrug. "And the dar can confirm, if you don't believe me. So, I suggest you keep your anxieties about size to yourself. You're in highbrow company, after all. Have some shame!"

  With a wink to the mage, Vaessa tossed her braid behind her, then spurred her lizard toward her pet dragons standing off to the side as Bonbon followed her with his eyes contemplatively.

  Well, this was good news! Everything was back to normal, despite my fears that my favorite mage would struggle to recover from the culture shock.

  "Should we wait for you?" Max asked me in the channel.

  "Not just should—you mustn't go anywhere without me and Kan. Remember your own words about avoiding any adventures today," I replied, standing up in the stirrups and signaling for the squad to move out.

  The entrance to the cave was located at an elevation of some sixty feet, and obscured from prying eyes by a broad protrusion on top of which stood four dwarf pines, looking awfully lonely. Then again, calling those ugly crooked things "pines" or even "trees" would be rather generous.

  The crack in the wall was about ten feet high and five across. Far from a dungeon by any stretch, the interior was dark even for my demonic vision.

  Six of us had climbed up here, having left the rest of the squad down below, including a pouting Alyona. Kan, Raena, Max, Luffy, Donut and me. It wasn't that anything could pose a threat to us in a level 210 zone, but taking along a healer that couldn't even heal properly in the event of trouble on account of the level difference just wouldn't be smart. Max and Luffy were the ones with the actual quest, while Donut could sneak and squeeze into any hole thanks to his class and stature. As for Kan and Raena, I brought them along just in case. In fact, that was also why I tagged along—in case they needed some extra firepower. Of course, I'd be delusional to put myself in the same category with the knight-commander of the sorceress in terms of damage output, but I was, after all, the leader of our motley alliance, and that came with the perk of rarely having my authority questioned.

  We ended up in a rather wide corridor that sloped downward, leading south through the thick rock. The walls were covered with calcified streaks of some kind of mineral, the structure of which resembled granite. The ground was strewn with crushed rock, and the magic lamplight was more than sufficient to examine the cave in full detail. The main corridor branched out into four narrow galleries, tapered off in a few dozen feet, and took a sharp right turn.

  "Well, shit!" Max shook his head in frustration, gesturing at the galleries. "I bet there's another dozen of these behind the bend. And who knows which of them is the third, or where to even start counting."

  "If you can even make it out behind this 'hand,'" Donut sniffed, walked over to a wall, and gave it a tap with the butt of his dagger. "I don't know what kind of magic we're dealing with, and whether my tapping will be of use at all." The rogue slipped the blade back into his sheath, and cast a hopeful gaze at Raena, standing by the entrance.

  "Sorry, I don't know any more than you. Not about Alvaric, nor about his hand," the young woman shook her head. "I've never even heard of such a thing as deep dispersion. It's possible that I might fathom the structure of the spell after using it, but that's far from a sure thing."

  "And I only have one scroll..." Max sighed. "Oh, screw it. Let's just keep walking, counting all the galleries as we go. We'll figure out what to do once we reach the end of the cave."

  "You know, Raena and I can tap the walls, too," Kan grinned as he started after Max. "We have plenty of experience in that regard."

  "Only with your tapping, the whole mountain might collapse on top of us," Donut gave a despondent shake of the head, letting Raena pass, then falling in next to me.

  Waiting for us behind the bend was... not much at all. The cave ended up being rather small, with the corridor abutting a dead wall not thirty yards from here, crisscrossed by two deep fissures. And the most annoying thing was that this section of the cave also branched out into four galleries, two on each side. In his letter, the dead elf whose bones rested by the left wall referred to these hollows as "branches" for some reason, whereas to me they looked more like niches for sarcophagi. One could reasonably wonder why any sentient people would want to carve out these hollows in the rock? The fact that they were all of artificial nature was beyond question, as evidenced by the corridor's smooth floor and the absence of any large rocks. It looked to be like the beginning of a tomb that never did receive its intended inhabitants, perhaps due to the Darkaan invasion? At any rate, the job now was to figure out which of these holes contained the quest map. We hadn't a clue as to where to start the count from or even from which wall, which left us with a total of four options. That was assuming the niche we needed wasn't masked by some disguise spell, as that would be a nightmare on a whole other level. As Donut had said, we could bang our heads against these walls till the whole bloody mountain came down upon our heads with
nothing to show for it. Maybe the designer knew about the quest, and that is why the mountain is shaped as it is?

  "Max, Donut! Look who's back!" Leaning over a pile of bones, Luffy demonstrated the corpse of some kind of critter.

  It wasn't a rat—rodents' incisors were arranged differently. Some kind of minor predator, judging by the fangs.

  "That's a gyrt." Max took the skull from Luffy's open palm, and handed it to me for some reason. "I didn't mention that the missive to the Great Forest was delivered by the dark elf's pet. This creature... it returned to die by his master's side..."

  "Some familiars get so attached to their masters that an astral bond may appear between them, allowing them to sense one another over any distance," Raena noted, then headed off to the end of the corridor, where Donut had been carefully inspecting the cracks covering the rock.

  My mood took a predictable dive as my mind recalled Old Yeller. Taking the skull from Max gingerly, I drew a heavy sigh. This creature really didn't need to die... Same as my Gloom back during that battle at the crossing, and then again in Sarykas' palace hall. Thankfully, in both instances things ended well for us.

  Suddenly I felt short on breath as my head began to spin and the ground slipped from under my feet...

  ***

  "Aeddarse!"

  Falanir leaned against the sharp rock protuberance, struggling for breath. His feet were heavy—almost more of an impediment than an asset—but he'd made it out of the cave nonetheless. Holding on to the wall with both hands, he moved toward a small protrusion sticking out of the ground a few yards from the entrance, and tried to take a seat. His body betrayed him, and the shapeshifter collapsed, banging his skull hard on the rock.

  "Mara..." Falanir wheezed, his cracked lips twisting into a bitter smile. What did he care for all this pain when mere hours separated him from finally meeting his ancestors?

  With another effort, he managed to climb onto the rock. Cursing his own weakness, he leaned against the cold mountain and set his eyes westward. A measly fifty miles, he could be in the Great Forest by morning... but the gods had decided differently. He didn't even have his form anymore—the doghead's spell had breached the body's astral projection, rendering all potions and elixirs useless. Falanir turned his head slowly, gazing up at the moon hanging over the horizon. This was to be his last night in this life... Not many sentients got to choose the time and place of their own death. And sure, he would prefer to die in the Great Forest instead of this barren valley, if given the choice. Alas, that choice was never offered to him.