The Twins of Devonshire and the Curse of the Widow Page 5

  “I am sorry for what happened.”

  “No need for apologies, the child is alright. We made it out alive. I might have expected more from a Captain of the Guards, but the beasts were something that you might not have ever faced before,” returned Xeno as he sheathed his weapon and leaned against a tree. He crossed his arms, staring far off in the distance.

  “It was not the beasts that scared me,” began Uthen.

  “Master Xeno,” spoke Maian as she moved forward, her bow already across her body once more. The quiver of arrows was quickly replaced beneath her pack.

  “What is it, child?”

  “You….”

  “It was you, Xeno. The way you carry yourself, and the way you attacked those beasts, it was unnatural,” replied Uthen, his eyes straying to Maian.

  Xeno nodded slowly, not bringing his eyes up from the ground. “You were very brave to come back, Maian. It would be best if next time you listened to my instructions. They were made with your safety in mind.”

  “I know that, Master Xeno. I just was scared to go all the way down the cliff alone,” replied Maian as she moved closer to Uthen and looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

  Xeno nodded and moved forward, peering over the cliff. The length of rope was buried in the snow. He grasped it in his gloved hands and turned it over and over, his eyes shut tight.

  His grip emitted a strangled sound.

  “We must make it to the Tower before we encounter anything else that might threaten to overtake us. The mountain pass to the east carves a course directly to the dark gates. That is where we must go. This cliff is only the beginning.”

  “Xeno, what if we cannot defeat the Widow?” queried Uthen as he approached the edge, Maian at his side. She hugged herself, not because of the cold that surrounded them, but from the chill that attacked her from within.

  “We must make it to the gates. I will go first and then Maian. Uthen you will bring up the rear, do not swing too far away from the face of the cliff.” Xeno gripped the end of the rope and ran toward the edge of the cliff, eliciting gasps from both Uthen and Maian.

  He leapt.

  His body drifted far out into the canyon as the arc of his jump carried him back toward the face of the rocky cliff. Uthen and Maian watched Xeno lower himself quickly, his body already hidden by the shadow of the mist and drifts of snow that covered the rocky face. They made their way slowly, knowing that Xeno would reach the bottom far before them. It was a thought that comforted them in a strange way.

  8

  X

  eno walked ahead of Uthen and Maian. His head was tucked deep beneath the hood and cowl of his cloak as the bitter gales attacked his mortal frame. The winds pushed them toward the edge of the ravine that wound its way up from the canyon bottom toward the Tower to the east.

  Uthen held the child close, her much smaller frame feeling the effects of the torrents that threatened to push them from their course. Xeno moved through the storm like water sluicing through dirt, carving a jagged, rugged path. Maian lowered her head against the white wall that had erected itself just ahead of their progression. It seemed as if it would never move.

  “Xeno,” called Uthen over the storm. He didn’t stop or even acknowledge the soldier. “Xeno,” he called again, this time cupping his hands to amplify his voice.

  Xeno paused for a moment.

  His head cocked slightly, though his face was not visible. Moving forward again, his body disappeared just beyond the curve of the path as it slithered around the face of the mountain pass. Uthen’s face darkened and he looked down at the fear on Maian’s face. Moving faster through the drifts of the snow, she pulled her cloak tighter around her body, unable to see the bluish hue her face had taken on.

  He kicked the snow away frantically.

  Pulling Maian along, Uthen wanted so desperately to catch up to the fleeting image of Xeno. As he rounded the corner, the soldier almost ran into the warrior, his hooded figure an obstruction in their path. Xeno remained there, his face hidden and his body rigid against the storm.

  “Xeno, I was calling to you,” spoke Uthen.

  “I heard you.”

  “Then why didn’t you acknowledge me?”

  Maian shivered beside Uthen and looked around worriedly. The sudden appearance of Xeno was a warning in her mind. Xeno raised his gloved hand to his mouth and turned his haggard features to Uthen, a single finger pressed against his lips.

  “We are being hunted.”

  “Hunted?” queried Uthen.

  Dumbfounded, he looked around inquisitively.

  “What?” was Maian’s shrieking response, to which Xeno wrapped his gloved hand around her mouth, stifling whatever might have come next.

  “Quiet, you must not allow whatever follows to realize that we have noticed its presence,” reasoned Xeno. He lifted his hand from her face when she nodded her head shakily in agreement.

  “What in the name of Exodus is it?” asked Uthen.

  Pulling beneath the overhang of the ridge, they momentarily escaped the torrential gales that continued to threaten their journey. Xeno shrugged his shoulders and rolled his eyes to the ledge just immediately above them. The three remained in silence in anticipation of anything. Over the howling of the wind they could barely make out the crunching footfalls of something.

  It was something large.

  “We have to move,” spoke Maian.

  Panic filled her voice.

  “No. If we go out right now, it will most assuredly be upon us in moments.”

  “Then what are we supposed to do?” queried Uthen, his eyes still fixated on the labored movements above them. Xeno looked down for a moment and then reached back to the sheath upon his back. He drew his blade, the edge cold and frozen.

  “I go out and draw its attention by running back the way we came. You two make your way to the gates of the Tower. I will meet the two of you there,” replied Xeno with confidence as he moved to step out into the wintry pass once again.

  Uthen laid a hand on his shoulder, stopping him for a moment. “This is suicide, Xeno.”

  “I agree, I don’t like this plan,” spoke Maian.

  Her thin body shivered.

  Xeno looked at both of them, and then brushed Uthen’s hand away. “It is the only way. I will meet you there. Do not attempt the halls of the Tower without me. Without a guide, you will labor for all of eternity.”

  He moved out into the snow drifts once again. Waving his sword wildly, he ran back the way they had just come. The howl that accompanied the thunderous pursuit made both Uthen and Maian shudder. As they crept away toward the Tower, they contemplated the terror that awaited them there.

  *

  The pillar of flame erupted within the Widow’s chamber, her pale features brought to life at the sudden spark of passionate light. Upon seeing it, she ran from it like a child fleeing from monsters in the night. The flame remained, and she peered at it from around her arm.

  Her eyes were wide and innocent for a moment despite the horror she had caused for pleasure. She became fascinated with it and stood, her pets peering at her. Their interest was lost as she neared the flame and reached a hand out to touch it, to feel its warmth. She drew her hand back quickly as the flame reverberated and jumped, sending tendrils out from its center.

  “Karian, what has become of the providence of Me’lein?” boomed a voice within.

  “I did not know you were watching over Me’lein.” Her confused and fear-ridden response belied her power. The flame took on form for a moment, the face contorted into a grimace. A wide brow emerged into smooth, flame horns that crested the fiery skull.

  “I watch everything, my child, especially my most prized jewel. I gave you Me’lein because I wished to see such pain inflicted upon it that I knew only you could deliver,” replied the voice.

  “He comes for my crest. He wishes to finish what was started some years ago.”

  “Xeno, he wishes to end what I have created,” spoke the
voice flatly.

  “He comes here as we speak. He brought others.”

  “Then kill him for me, in my name. He must be dealt with, and how fitting that it would be by your hand.”

  Karian hesitated for a moment, staring back upon her slumbering were-beast––the sleeping whelp perched upon the top of her shadow throne. “As you wish.”

  The flame vibrated and then disappeared.

  Karian was left in the darkness once again. The turmoil that gripped her soul, and the images and feelings of ages past, swept across her being. She fell upon her knees in the darkness, letting the shadow embrace her and nurture the confusion that lingered.

  *

  Xeno ran hard against the snow.

  The force of the gales doubled as he ran into the assault of the cold winds, which felt like being slapped in the face by an ice giant. He could hear the even breathing of his pursuer. The deafening roar of the mountain winds shrouded the true size of his opponent.

  Xeno planted his feet and pivoted, his blade brandished in front of him. His eyes squinted into the assaulting gales as he searched for whatever tracked him. The wall of white clouded the progression of the creature.

  He felt the wind of the strike only moments before it came, the blow knocking him from his feet and sending him sprawling into the drifts of snow at the edge of the path. He spun in the snow. Leaping back to his feet, he felt only the oppressive force of another blow, lifting him off his feet this time.

  He slammed into the rocky face of the mountain. The force held him there for a moment before letting him fall to the ground. The hazy drifts of snow assaulted his vision, blurring the image of his attacker.

  “Xeno Lobo,” spoke the low, guttural voice.

  It did not lack intelligence.

  Xeno lifted his bruised face and tried to focus on the voice. “What…”

  The fist came again. This time Xeno could make out the tan human hands as they assaulted his face. Each blow dulled the edges of his vision. “The Widow does not like uninvited visitors, turn back now.”

  “Then perhaps…”

  The fist came again.

  Xeno moved away from the blow, rolling into the snow. Getting to his feet amidst the torrents of frigid air, he drew his blade. The dark shadow that assaulted him came into focus. It was at least a foot taller than Xeno, its body shrouded in a cloak of white.

  Yet only darkness radiated from it. “Karian, mistress of the Tower of Darkness, bids you farewell. I am here to send you to the next plane.”

  “That might be premature at this point,” quipped Xeno as he rooted himself in the frozen earth and brandished his sword as the figure approached.

  The features of the creature were hidden from view, buried deep within the cloak that protected it. It flashed forward, teleporting from its position to another just behind Xeno. Its strike came moments before Xeno could bring his blade up to parry.

  The fist was consumed by darkness.

  The blow lifted Xeno from his feet again and carved a canyon through the snow, the wall halting his slide. The denizen stood apart from Xeno, hands held at its sides and hood tilted slightly. The movement was eerie in the wall of snow that distorted the battlefield. The figure shimmered for a moment and Xeno leapt up, swinging his blade thrice. The third blow caught the teleporting visage and tore the cloak down its center, revealing more shadow beneath the robes.

  The creature looked at Xeno, pretense abandoned. Swirling masses of shattered shadow swayed in the wintry gales. Its eyes could be seen for the first time, flames billowing back away from its shape. They were trails that seemed to disappear into the distance. Its body was no longer form––the cloak had held it together. A black cowl floated down the cliff face.

  Xeno moved forward, his sword tainted with a vile streak of shadow. The squirming, crawling darkness slithered like a serpent. Flicking his blade toward the snow, the slithering shadow leapt from his steel and scurried across the ice-packed ground, rejoining the disjointed mass of darkness that stood before the warrior.

  “You cannot fight the inevitable,” spoke the transient being, its form controlled and mastered by the frigid gales.

  Uthen and Maian seemed so far from Xeno now. The tumble back down the slopes of the mountain had taken a toll on him. He could feel the breath being taken from him.

  “This ends now.”

  Xeno dove forward.

  His hands began to feel the effects of the cold. Mustering the remaining energy his body could summon, he charged the creature. His body was a flurry of strikes. Screams echoed in the cold canyons.

  *

  Maian walked out ahead of Uthen.

  Her lithe body could almost hide within the white wall of the mountain storm. As she approached the gates, Uthen could feel the weight of their endeavor on his shoulders. With each passing moment without Xeno the possibility of his death grew.

  Maian moved toward the gate.

  Stopping, she craned her neck skyward. The levels and rooms of the Tower of Darkness extended far above the wintry peaks and into the pillows of clouds above them. The gray-white matter hid its true height.

  “Do we wait for Xeno?’ asked Maian.

  As Uthen came up beside her, he rested his hands on the hilt of his sword. Closing his eyes, the flurries of the snowstorm brushed over his tan face.

  “He told us not to enter without him. But the longer we wait here, the greater the risk of dying in this cold mess. The possibility and reality of his death becomes more apparent to me as we stand here,” reasoned Uthen.

  “The Tower seems so daunting. Can we truly navigate it without Xeno?”

  “He says we cannot, but what insight he has I do not know. There is far too much about him that we are not aware of, too many questions unanswered.”

  Maian looked away from the soldier and back into the white through which they had just journeyed. She closed her eyes against the blowing gales. “His story of Devonshire was so sad.”

  “Yes, it was.”

  “He seemed sad himself when he told it.”

  “It did seem rather personal.”

  The gates before them were obsidian, and wide open. The path that led deeper was shrouded in darkness despite the bright reflection of the snow-covered mountain. The points of the gate were like pikes: polished points of death. The veneer was strange, as if someone tended their reflection.

  Maian notched an arrow as they both looked at the tower. Letting it loose before Uthen could tell her better, it sailed wobbly in the wind and struck the side of the structure, its metallic point buried in a stone crevice.

  They both turned when they heard the screaming echo down the mountain. Their faces dropped when they recognized the unnatural howl, and a human scream that had to be Xeno.

  The mountain rumbled.

  Thunder echoed.

  The footfalls of the something approached them. They were hurried, almost panicked, impressions on the earth. Maian notched an arrow. She was still trapped in the irrational fear of the silence.

  Uthen drew his sword.

  A shadow emerged.

  The fumbling steps grew thunderous now.

  Xeno rounded the pass and ran toward the two of them. The fear on their faces melted into relief. Xeno ran at full speed, his arms waving wildly and his lips moving.

  The thunderous cliffs stole his words.

  “Run,” he screamed.

  Neither Uthen nor Maian could hear them.

  Their fear returned to them.

  The shadow creature crested the corner of the trail. It pursued Xeno like a formless apparition, floating across the earth, driving the warrior forward.

  Uthen backpedaled and fell, bringing Maian to the ground with him. Watching as the tattered pants of Xeno approached them, he stared fearfully at the ghastly image of the creature chasing their traveling companion.

  A piercing howl filled the air as it neared.

  Uthen kicked his feet in the snow. His hands scraped the ground, drawing brown e
arth from the frozen land. He was on his feet again, pulling Maian with him. As he pushed her ahead, the howling at their backs drove them forward.

  Xeno came up alongside them, his face covered with ice and blood. His eye was nearly swollen shut from the attack. They stumbled through the gate and entered the shadow, pushing desperately on the monstrous door there. As they pried it open, they navigated the narrow gap and started to close the door behind them.

  The sliver of opening showed the apparition as they slammed it closed. Xeno paced the narrow corridor they had placed themselves in. He slammed his clenched fist against the wall, repeatedly. Bending at the waist, his chest heaved and his words were mumbled.

  “What was that?” queried Maian exasperatedly.

  She was visibly shaken.

  “One of Karian’s creations,” replied Xeno as he slammed his fists against the walls once again. The room they stood in was a waiting room, which led farther out into a colossal, open chamber that narrowed back into a dank stairwell.

  The open chamber was empty with the exception of a pedestal in each corner with seamless orbs of various shades placed upon them. They walked forward into the center chamber and looked toward the ceiling. The seemingly endless darkness added depth to the grandiose room.

  “What are these orbs?” asked Uthen.

  “The eyes of Karian.”

  “She watches us through them––clever,” replied Uthen as he walked forward. The stairwell on the opposite side was their only path. “Up then?”

  Xeno nodded and moved forward, followed by Maian. Uthen was close behind. Casting glances about the darkness, he lowered his head as they prepared to ascend the Tower of Darkness.

  9

  K

  arian sat upon her throne, eyes closed. Her hands gripped the rests. The room was silent except for the low, throaty mutterings of her were-beast. The far corner of the room shimmered for a moment and then materialized, the space there flexing like it had been stretched thin. The nether creature that had battled Xeno upon the mountain moved out of the darkness. Its robes had returned, arms crossed like a monk.