Chapter 20
The Darkness
The darkness found me a long time ago. -Rif
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"No sign of the Beast Tongue, alive or otherwise," Sir Thunderstone's voice boomed, living up to his name: loud as thunder, hard as stone. "Gar must have him or else the Woodsmen got him. Either way he's gone."
Rif's heart sank. It was too much. His father and sisters taken by the slavers, his mother by the Red Guard, Kazor eaten by scagazi...and now Wayden too.
"A good riddance to him," thought Arth. "Kolram is no friend."
"Arth, he tried to help you," thought Genika. Arth’s sister’s presence in his mind had been getting stronger of late. That was for the good, she was a calming influence.
"His eyes were spy’s eyes," Belok’s voice was smooth and soft, and sent ice spiders dancing down Rif’s spine. “You should have given him the gift.”
How could Belok have escaped? He, Genika, and Arth had trapped Belok in the mindscape. Rif was sure they had secured him well, but it was just like last time. Rif had thought they had trapped him a year ago, and then he popped back out. It was like trying to drown a cork.
"Focus,” Arth said. “We can imprison him again. Breathe."
Rif pictured a peaceful place: a Tulkarian waterfall: fronds of broad-leafed tropical plants on the banks, singing birds with stripes of pink and orange strutting with chests puffed out. Then the birds scattered and out from the fronds came an enormous tiger- with the face of Belok.
Genika reminded him, “Breathe” though she herself sounded anything but calm. Having her killer inside the mindscape with her…it must be unbearable for her. He could sense Genika herself employing the Adonian breathing technique: three short breaths, followed by a deep breath.
Breathing was more difficult than most people realized, especially with Belok around, making his chest tighten with fear. Fear was Belok’s knife, and he used the weapon formidably. Short, short, short, long. Rif breathed, relaxing himself. Genika and Arth joined forces with him on the plains of the mindscape. The three of them became spearmen, driving the tiger back towards a bamboo cage. Rif slammed the door shut. A hand grabbed Rif’s shoulder. Rif jolted, becoming aware of Mistress Night leaning towards him. The remains of a campfire smoldered.
“Are you alright, dear?” Mistress Night asked.
“Just a h-h-headache.”
Her gnarled hand thrust a root at Rif. "Suck on this. It'll help your headache. And your fears. Don't worry dear. The shadows will be coming for us soon."
“The Shadows found me a long time ago,” Rif thought.
The Flickers had found the corpses of Swiftrider and Green Lightning. The skywolves left just enough to be recognizable. For a long notch, they searched for Wayden.
Ko stretched his head upwards and cursed loudly.
“Your holiness, we must return," Healer Conrick said, "We'll be hard pressed to make it back by the Dracon's deadline."
Ko spat out a few more curse words and then ordered, "Troops! Fall in, scouts, forward and rear guard assume positions.”
Rif closed his eyes, fighting off tears. They were giving up the search. He felt as if his insides were caving in.
The wagon maneuvered to an about-face and then turned northwards towards the distant volcano. The air had grown cold, and snow fell from the sky, star-like flakes descending, gracing the branches white with their crystalline embrace.
The caravan made good time on the first day of the return trip, but on the second day, they encountered trouble. A faint rumbling noise caught Rif's ear. The noise was familiar. Claws striking rock, tearing through sand, pushing upwards, clay swirling. Rif would know that sound anywhere now. It was often in his nightmares.
“Sc…sc….scagazi!” Rif yelled. Pincer-like hands burst through the lightly snow-dusted ground.
Thunderstone drew his blue sword from his scabbard and shouted, “For Helos!”
Trembling, the Flickers readied their spears. Thunderstone’s blade cleaved through the neck gap in the scagazi's exoskeleton, severing its neck from its body. The head rolled through the mud and landed by Rif's foot, the creature's cavernous eyes staring into his own.
"Scagazi attacks are rare. Twice can't be a coincidence," Genika said.
"Someone is sending them after Rif," Arth said. "Someone who wants to stop me from doing something."
Rif felt a heavy weight bowl him over. A scagazi sat upon his chest howling triumphantly. Rif’s hands were pinned and the subterranean beast leaned forward, its mouth widening. Just as he felt all hope was past, a whip of flame wrapped around the creature's neck searing the brown-skin black. The creature gripped its neck, and Rif rolled loose.
The creature howled for a short notch, then slumped over dead. Then Ko turned to whisper his flame. The fire magic poured from his mouth scorching a scagazi who shrieked in a high-pitched whine. Ko whispered again another burning secret into a second scagazi and then a third.
Rif scurried behind a thicket, and away from the heat of both battle and fire magic. He kept his head down, listening to the howls and screams, thumps and curses.
“Kill,” Belok urged. “Kill the Fire Whisperer and the soldiers. Then disappear into the woods.”
How had he gotten loose again, so quickly? But even as he asked himself, he realized the answer. Rif had done it himself. His fear had let Belok loose.
"Flee, but do not kill," Genika said.
Ko's voice boomed behind him, “Thunderstone, the soul thief is bolting. Catch him!”
Rif raced up a hill. Thunderstone charged after him. Two Flickers trailed behind, but Thunderstone was surprisingly fast and nimble. Rif raced down the hillside, tripped on a root and fell, face first, into a murky brook.
"Ungrateful little bugger," Thunderstone bellowed and shoved Rif's face into the stream. The burbling and coldness of water was all around him now. He could taste the muddy river.
“No. Help me,” Rif thought.
“Let me,” Belok thought. “I can help you. I can give Thunderstone the gift.”
Then Thunderstone yanked him back out and Rif gulped for air.
He pulled out of Thunderstone's grasp and twisted free and ran. He could feel Thunderstone inches behind him. Rif leapt into the branches of a scrappy pine tree. The branch he clung to cracked, and Rif dangled helplessly. He wasn't up high enough to escape the big knight's reach. Thunderstone grasped Rif's ankle and Rif found himself thudding into hard ground. The Dragon Knight leered at Rif from above him.
“Suck his soul,” urged Arth.
“But don’t kill him,” Genika said.
“Weak. Power is strength,” Belok thought. “You can’t half way open a bottle.”
Rif could feel the Source, burning beneath his eyelids. He gestured and the Dragon Knight started to gag, his soul mist clinging to his lips. Thunderstone fell to the ground, near Rif. He grabbed Rif’s leg and squeezed. Rif felt anger raging inside him.
“Finish him,” Belok thought. “Let me take control. I’ll do it for you. It’s simpler this way.”
It would be easier to relinquish responsibility. Life was so hard. Everything had gone wrong for Rif from the beginning. If he just let go, then Belok could do what needed to be done. Rif didn't like to kill, but sometimes you had to. He was weak, but Belok wasn't.
"I'll just let go for a moment," Rif thought.
"No! Rif, you have to fight it!" Genika said. "Breathe. Picture a peaceful place. A time when you were happy."
Rif pictured the beach on the Tulkarian Sea where he and his family used to live. He could see the massive frame of his father and sinewy forms of his sisters now, all three with their long purple hair, fishing from a log boat.
His elder sister pushed the younger in. They were laughing. His mother had a fire going on the shore, and the scent of roast cod wafted through the humid air.
Rif entered the tepid waters with his net and harpoon, the undertow pulling at his ankles. Somet
hing cold wrapped around his ankle and pulled. His world became salt and sand as he was pulled under. He was eye to eye with a lake kraken. No, not a kraken. It had tentacles, but its face…it was Belok’s cruel face…his snake-like silver hair, his veined forehead, and his pale gray eyes. It was a face that was seared within Arth's memory, stabbing his sister over and over again.
Rif blacked out. When he woke up he coughed out water. At first, he thought the water was from the Tulkarian Sea, but the water was fresh and cold. He lay in the brook Thunderstone had tried to drown him. Somehow, he’d rolled down the hill back into it. Where was Thunderstone? Rif saw him, by the tree he had climbed. His cold, lifeless, eyes staring right into Rif’s.
Two Flickers grabbed Rif and he felt the cold iron of manacles snapping around his wrist.
"Wraithing Tulkarian took out Thunderstone,” a Flicker shouted.
Conrick fingered the side of Thunderstone’s neck. The portly healer shook his head. “He’s gone.”
Gone. With that one simple word Rif felt like his head had been shoved back into the brook again. Rif had killed the Dragon Knight. And that meant he’d killed the others as well. Thunderstone, Big Darius, they weren't the nicest of fellows, but they didn't deserve to be murdered. And what of all the others? That poor red-haired woman at the pine grove. The girl by the fishmonger's. The little girl by the well. He could still see her freckles. She couldn't have been more than ten. He’d killed her. He was the Striker.
"I should let the scagazi kill me,” Rif thought. “I should let Ko throw me in prison."
"It's Belok,” Genika said. “We have to learn to find a more permanent way to imprison him.”
"You killed me.” The voice of Thunderstone boomed from inside Rif. “You bastard!"
And a woman's voice, not Genika's. "And me as well. You killed me."
And a young girl's voice. "He didn't mean to. It was Belok."
The voice stabbed at Rif worse than one of Belok's knives. A young girl, an innocent. He’d murdered her. It was as if a dam had broken open, and now the memories were pouring out. The girl’s face turning blue. Tears streamed down Rif's face. I'm losing my mind.
"Make sure the ropes are firm, Ember Timeons," Ko said. "I want you and Ambrose on him at all times. Be a good man, and make sure the boy doesn't leave us all corpses, would you?"