Chapter 9

The Boozer followed the strong scent of bergamot and balm emanating from the floor above him. He recalled the Seed’s fondness for the mixture of foul smelling oils in his early days as a magician’s apprentice. Only now, the smell was heavily laden with the stench of death and decay that pervaded the whole of Blackgloom.

He scaled the last spiral of steep stairs carefully, not wanting to let the Seed know of his presence just yet. He gripped Merlin’s black scroll tightly in one hand, a small crystal amulet in the other. Kruzurk Makshare was about to face the greatest peril of his life. He knew there would be no turning back once he had revealed himself. If his plan worked, he could put an end to an evil unlike any the land had seen before. If he failed, he knew the powers of darkness would prevail, perhaps forever.

A low, wicked chant was Kruzurk’s first proof he had found the Seed’s private and most secret of chambers. He crept silently to the entrance and peered through the inky yellow darkness. The glow of a large candle outlined the shadow of the Seed, kneeling and chanting before the Stone. The Stone stood against a wooden pillar in the middle of the room, supported by a strand of heavy rope tied to an iron bolt in the beam above it.

“Powers of darkness, powers of mine, make the Stone’s secrets the Seed’s to divine. Prince of all evil, from your well of fire, keen the gates open, bring me higher. Give me the power, great lord of the dark, with a virgin’s blood, I’ll make your mark.”

Kruzurk shuddered at the horrible vows made by the sorcerer. He watched as the Seed turned to a large table. Daynin lay stretched across it, bound and gagged, unable to move. The Seed ripped off the boy’s tunic. Kruzurk knew he could do little for Daynin, except watch and wait for the right opportunity to make his move. Hopefully, his chance would come before the Seed drew the blood he thought he needed to cleanse the Stone of any ancient spells.

The Seed turned back toward the Stone and repeated his ritual. Kruzurk knew, too, that he would do that thirteen times before the boy’s blood was drawn, but he had no way of knowing how many incantations had already been uttered. From somewhere in the darkness of the room, Kruzurk could hear the labored breathing of an animal. A beast would be sacrificed on the eleventh chant, so he still had a little time to plan his move.

* Blackgloom’s Lower Level *

Sabritha sobbed quietly on the floor of the passageway, having all but given up to the dark powers of Blackgloom. Toobar tried in vain to reassure her that all was well, but she would not move. Cale tried to recover from the battle and the enormous effort it took for him to move in the heavy armor.

“We’ve—got to—get moving,” Cale ordered. “Got to—find—Daynin—and get out—of this place.”

“They took Daynin,” Sabritha sobbed.

“Where?” Toobar asked.

Sabritha pushed herself from the floor, obviously trying to regain some of her composure. “I don’t know. I don’t even know how I know. I just know.”

“Are you all right?” Cale asked her.

“They—they gave me something. I went to sleep. But I dreamed.”

Toobar helped her to her feet, then asked, “What did you dream?”

“That someone else was me. That Daynin and I, we were in a room, and—I—I don’t know. Something happened. They took him away. To a tower, where he—oh God! We’ve got to find him!”

“Kruze said to get out if we could,” Cale argued.

“But we have to help him, if we can,” Sabritha continued. “It’s—very important, somehow. More important than anything. Quickly, this way,” she said, motioning for them to follow.

* Blackgloom’s Upper Level *

The Seed repeated his chant again, this time in reverse, as was the requirement. Kruzurk observed every movement, careful to note how long he turned away from the Stone each time. Those few seconds would be the only chance the magician would have to move unobserved across the room. He had to reach the Stone, as it would be his only protection from the awesome power the Seed could wield from his fingertips.

Kruzurk held his breath in anticipation of the next move. The Seed stood and turned to the table, allowing Kruzurk to move with the precision of a cat. The Seed opened a box on the table and drew a magnificent jeweled blade from it. The jewels in the handle sparkled from the candlelight, casting red and green reflections over the walls of the chamber. Kruzurk had managed to crawl half the distance across the floor toward the Stone before the ogrerat sensed his presence. He stopped when it began growling and snarling, jerking violently against its binding chains.

The Seed turned from the table and smiled at the beast. “Easy there, my pet,” he whispered. “They are only colorful shadows on the wall. Come now, it is time for your part in this great moment.”

Kruzurk crawled closer to the Stone, fearful that his heart pounded so loudly the Seed would surely hear him. The ogrerat growled and gnawed at its chains, doing its best to warn the master of the unseen enemy it knew to be present, but in vain. The Seed remained transfixed, rigid before his grotesque pet, with seemingly but one thought in his mind.

He raised the blade high over his head, chanting for the evil power the blade possessed. The tip of the knife glowed red, then white as heat traveled down to its grip. At the proper moment, the Seed stepped forward and plunged the blade to its hilt into the ogrerat’s massive neck.

The beast let out the most horrendous of howls. Blood squirted from the gaping wound and the animal dropped to its haunches. The Seed took the ogrerat by its tusks and held its snout aloft as he finished severing the creature’s head. Blood pumped wildly from the opened veins of the headless carcass, forming crimson rivulets on the flagstone floor. Kruzurk shuddered at the horror of the sight, but continued to crawl for the safety of the Stone.

The Seed brandished the beast’s head above his own, gulping the thick red blood that gushed from the ogrerat’s throat. He doused himself generously in the sanguineous flow, chanting the Latin death knell, “Sic itur ad astra,” like some mindless child at play in a horrible dream.

Kruzurk scurried behind the Stone while the Seed bathed himself in the ogrerat’s blood. The magician knew the vile ceremony had almost reach its climax. He prepared himself mentally for the task ahead and prayed that the powers of light would be at hand to protect him, for he knew that little else of earthly value could.

* Blackgloom’s Lower Level *

“This way,” Sabritha indicated, pointing to a long corridor that led to a set of steep, winding stairs. “He’s up there, somewhere. I feel it,” she said.

“Look out,” Toobar cried out. “Ogrerats—behind us!” He reached for his flute and blew it for all it was worth, but without effect.

Cale turned and hollered, “What’s wrong with you? Blow that damned thing!”

“My flute’s bent!” Toobar screamed. “Must’ve happened in the fight.”

Cale pushed Sabritha behind him and stepped out to face the first ogrerat, now only a huge, hairy blur as it charged out of the darkness. Toobar ducked when the beast launched itself from half way across the corridor. The animal slammed into Cale, sending him crashing against the wall. Cale’s helmet flew off with the impact and he dropped his halberd. It was all he could do to jam his armored forearm into the beast’s massive jaws to stave off its gnashing teeth. Sabritha grabbed the loose helmet and began beating the animal on its rock-hard skull, with no effect.

Toobar managed to engage the second ogrerat with Cale’s halberd. That quickly proved to be a mismatch. The diminutive little man had neither the strength nor the skill to battle the monster for long.

Cale struggled to pull his dirk from its scabbard, but the weight of the ogrerat made that all but impossible. Sabritha ran to the end of the corridor, jerked down a lantern and poured its oil into the helmet. She ripped a shred from her gown and lit it from another lantern, then rushed back to the fight.

“Cale! Cover your face,” she screamed. Hesitating only a second, she threw the oil on the ogrerat’s back and ignited it.

The animal’s fur burst into flame and it bellowed in agony, its scream releasing Cale’s arm. Cale had the chance he needed to draw his weapon and in a flash, he slit the ogrerat from belly to throat, almost drowning himself in the creature’s foul smelling innards. The huge animal groaned once more and collapsed on top of its killer.

Toobar was quickly losing his fight with the other ogrerat, but he had inflicted several bloody wounds on the beast in the process. Sabritha helped Cale escape from under the blazing carcass and get to his feet, though they were an instant too late for Toobar. With one mighty leap, the ogrerat toppled the Ferret, bending him over backwards and snapping his spine like a twig. The beast stopped only long enough to tear a great chunk from Toobar’s throat, thus finishing its helpless prey.

Sabritha screamed again, then wilted against the wall. Cale had only time enough to unsheathe his broadsword as the animal catapulted from Toobar’s lifeless body. Fortunately, the broadsword was well aimed, penetrating completely through the creature’s neck, severing its jugular and killing the beast instantly. Cale fell backward under the weight of the monster.

Just then, a horrible, unearthly wail emanated from the stairwell somewhere above them. The sound echoed time and again through every hall of the Blackgloom keep.