<div>
<div>
<div>
THIRTY-FOUR
<h2 style="text-transform: uppercase">TOMFORD</h2>
<div>
Tomford sat on a cold wet bench in the middle of a small park in Havet, not far from his childhood home. Icy rain sleeted down, but he ignored the cold.
He hunched forward, unable to believe the last few days he’d experienced since arriving in Vatnbloet. His own family hadn’t been happy to see him. That much was apparent from the expressions on their faces when he showed up at their doorstep. Tomford hadn’t expected a feast in his honor or anything, but definitely not outright disappointment. Sure, he’d gone against their wishes when leaving for Fyrie and Eldsprak Academy, but that was ages ago. He was a different man now, but they could not see it.
Anicetus, his mentor, was dead. The old priest was highly regarded, a senior member of the church. It’d been an honor to have been accompanied by such an exemplary man, his father explained, and to put him at risk was unacceptable. With Anicetus dead, their family had to bear the shame of Tomford’s actions.
Tomford tried to explain what had happened, but no one cared. They knew about the rhinn invaders but didn’t intend to do a damn thing about them. More so, they didn’t care that the neighboring kingdoms were under siege. His father refused to let him speak to those in power, to warn them of impending danger.
It was too late anyhow. Monsters roamed the streets of Havet. People were preoccupied by keeping Vatnbloet safe from the sudden monster infestation and cared little of anything or anyone else.
The discussion with his parents ended with Tomford storming out in a rage, clenching his fists so hard his fingernails dug into the palms of his hands. It wasn’t over. He refused to accept defeat. He needed to rally support for Goslin and the others. But he was at a loss on what to do next.
“Waiting for someone?”
Tomford looked up to see a robed figure. The man’s hood was pulled over his features to protect him from the rain. Despite this, he immediately recognized the new arrival. “Byn!”
They exchanged a brief embrace, his old friend from his acolyte days in the priesthood. Byn stood no taller than Tomford’s navel. His hood fell back, revealing the face of a young man barely having left childhood behind. Despite his youthful appearance, Byn was the same age as Tomford. An unusual imbalance in his body prevented his body from growing past his twelfth year.
“Tomford. You’re back! Anea bless you!”
He should’ve expected that sort of greeting, but still flinched at the mention of their dead god. Byn firmly embraced the church’s teachings. Byn saw his awkward reaction and smiled piously.
“I’m only here for a short while, I’m afraid,” Tomford said. “Are you well? How is Aila?” An even older friend of Tomford’s, and the one who’d accidentally outed Tomford as a healer to his family. She’d been a street urchin then, but Tomford demanded she be taken care of, or he’d simply refuse to join the priesthood. When he left Vatnbloet for Eldsprak, she’d been working with Byn on his research of ailments where the body attacked itself.
“Oh, she’s well and asks for updates on you often. Now I’ll actually have something to tell her. You must see her before you leave.”
“I hope there’s time.”
“Are you leaving so soon?”
“I’m here to rally help for Eldsprak. The other kingdoms have been invaded by a people called the rhinn. Vatnbloet is unaffected thus far, but we won’t stand long once Eldsprak falls.”
Byn’s face turned somber. “And they refused to listen to you.”
“You heard?”
“You know how the priesthood is positioned in Havet. Very little escapes our attention. For what it’s worth, I voted for lending aid to our needful brethren to the south. Unfortunately, my voice does not carry far in the echoing chambers.”
Tomford clapped a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You’re a good man, Byn. I’m happy we’ve run into each other like this. It actually gives me an idea.”
“Oh?”
“Your father.”
“My father?” Byn asked. “He is well-situated, of course, but he holds no power in any official capacity.”
Tomford shook his head and smiled. “No, but he does have a sizable guard, doesn’t he? For the caravans and trade wagons? I remember it almost being the size of a small army. And he has many friends.”
Byn shot Tomford a nervous smile. “Didn’t think of that. You might have something there. But listen, Tomford. I didn’t run into you by mistake. I sought you out for a reason.”
Tomford raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”
“You’ve always been a man of action. Judging by the muscles you’ve added to your tall frame, you have not been slacking in that regard since running off to join that fighting school in Fyrie.”
“The Academy,” Tomford corrected.
“That’s the one. You’re a fighter.”
“To an extent,” Tomford answered, unsure where his old friend was going with his line of reasoning.
“The church has need of one and you’re still part of our order, are you not?”
“Officially, I’m still on their rolls, I suppose, but I’m not becoming a priest. Not now, not ever.”
“We don’t need a priest right now. We have plenty of those. There is a monster in one of the holy chambers that we’re unable to exterminate.”
“A monster? I’d love to help, but time is not a bountiful resource for me at the moment. There are plenty of soldiers patrolling the streets. Can’t you ask them for assistance?”
“You know they are not permitted within the bounds of those chambers.”
“What of the church’s soldiers?”
Byn grimaced. “They’ve made two attempts. The first time, four went in and one returned. On the second attempt, none returned. Now, they refuse to go in without a healer’s aid, but no healers dare enter.”
Tomford ran his hands down his face. The church and its subjects never changed. Always asking, always taking.
Then he realized this might be just what he needed. A way to meet the church’s leaders and convince them to see reason. If the healers joined him in Eldsprak, their support might be the difference between winning and losing.
“Why don’t we go see our beloved superiors? I’m sure there is a way for us to help each other out.”
<div>
* * *
This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.
“Can you describe it to me?” Tomford asked the only surviving soldier.
“Didn’t get a chance to see it clearly. We didn’t carry torches.” The soldier shuddered. “It’s big. Can’t get out of the room. Big, but fast. Blindingly fast.”
“Does it look like a human?” Tomford asked, stopping the soldier’s rambling.
“Almost. It walks like a man. But it looked wrong. Something grew out of its head. Like horns. Damma struck it with a war hammer, but it did nothing!” The soldier wiped the perspiration from his face. “I was able to stick it with my spear though.”
“You struck it?”
The surviving soldier glanced between Tomford and the church’s leadership, who all sat in silence arrayed before them. “Just a glancing blow to its arm. I don’t know how much I hurt it. By then, all I wanted to do was to get out of there. All of us were running.”
“Thank you,” Tomford said, standing.
“You can borrow my spear if you want,” the soldier offered.
“I don’t have much use for weapons but thank you.”
The soldier hurried from the room.
Tomford stood and faced the priests. “You will send healers with me to Fyrie if I rid you of this problem.”
They whispered to one another until settling on a decision. “No.”
“No?”
“You are an acolyte of the church well on his way to priesthood. Anea has blessed you with abilities few possess in these dire times. We will not bargain with one of our own. You will do as you are told.”
Tomford sighed and began reciting a text he’d thought back on many times during his journey. “A heretic comes before you. I am he. Today I rescind?—”
“What are you doing?”
“<i>Rescind</i>,” Tomford repeated, before continuing, “my place in Anea’s embrace.”
“Stop!”
Tomford glared at the gathered old priests. “Another few words and my place in the church is no more. Witnessed by you, it can never be reinstated by my will or against it. If I leave now, those holy chambers are beyond me.”
Byn sat in a pew on the far side of the room. When Tomford glanced at him, he saw his old friend working very hard to suppress a smile.
The priests conferred for another brief moment. “We agree to your demands on one condition.”
“What is it?”
“Our healers will accompany you, but you will not command them. They are to heal the injured and the sick, far removed from the heat of battle.”
“You have my word.”
Tomford smiled to himself. He got some of the support Goslin needed. Now, he just needed to figure out how to destroy a monster with only his fists. One that shrugged off a blow from a war hammer.
<div>
* * *
<div>
Emeryn
Fearing discovery, the group moved in short bursts down the mountainside and hid when all other options were exhausted. As they drew closer, the growers moving around in a seemingly random patterns grew more numerous. If not for the Kin’s unnatural focus on what was beneath their feet, the discovery of Emeryn and her group would have been inevitable.
“This spot should do,” Emeryn said, once they were within shouting distance of the camp. Taera was still nowhere to be found, but Freyn swore the broken god lit up like a beacon in her mind.
Wade glanced around at the rocky, moss-covered ground. “Rather exposed.”
“We won’t be visible for long.”
They hid behind a large boulder. Emeryn focused, shutting out everything that was not herself, her power, and the ground beneath her feet. The earth and mud yawned, bending to her will and opening to reveal the hard granite underneath. Emeryn coaxed the stone until it reformed into stairs leading down into the darkness. Once they were standing in the pit, Emeryn closed up the earth behind her, sending them into pitch darkness.
The others lit touches, but Emeryn didn’t need them, not when she was in her element.
She crafted a tunnel leading under the growers’ camp. The image of Taera hunting her through the caverns the last time they met was still fresh in her mind, and she took extra care not to disturb the odd root that’d burrowed all the way down into Emeryn’s domain. If not careful, she might alert the Kin’s god to their presence.
A good hour later, Emeryn stopped. “We’re here.”
“Where is here?” Freyn asked, her voice muffled by the tight space.
Emeryn touched the bare stone before her. “The chamber is just beyond this wall.”
“I’m ready to get out of this tunnel. Let’s push ahead,” Tomford said.
Emeryn kept her hand in place when she asserted her will into the stone. It parted for her. First, a small opening. Startled, she stopped. Light spilled out through it. And the sound of footsteps.
“There’s someone in there,” Tomford said, stating the obvious.
“Or something,” Wade added.
“I don’t feel anything,” Freyn said.
Something appeared before the hole and Emeryn shied back in alarm.
“Welcome,” Heradion said, his eye and nose appearing in the opening.
Emeryn stabbed at his face with her finger.
"Ow!”
“What are you doing here?” she demanded.
“That’s not very nice.”
She enlarged the hole and stepped through, glaring at the old man. “If you had a way to get in here, we wouldn’t have needed to go through all of this!” Her loud words echoed in the large, almost empty, square chamber.
Torches lined the walls, all of them lit. As far as she could see, no other exits or entrances existed. “How did you get here?” she asked, intensifying her glare.
Heradion rubbed at his cheek where Emeryn had poked him. “Figured you would get here on your own. Then I remembered you’re barely more than children and that you’d probably all succumb to this chamber’s traps if I didn’t step in.”
“Traps?” Tomford asked, stepping in front of the others, as if wanting to shield them.
“I’ve disabled them.”
“Of course, it’s trapped,” Wade said, shaking his head. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
Heradion pointed up. “Why do you think the Kin hasn’t burrowed down here yet? You better hurry. Taera will know the traps are gone, even the ones designed for the likes of her.”
“He’s right. They’re coming,” Freyn said, tilting her face up to the ceiling, her eyes closed.
Emeryn pointed to the four stone pedestals near the center of the room. All four held cube-shaped objects. “We just take them? Why are there four?”
“One will be empty,” Wade said.
Emeryn approached, reaching her hand to the leftmost cube. “Which one?”
Heradion was suddenly by her side, grabbing her wrist. “Not so fast.”
She pulled away. “What are you doing?”
“Those are not real. They’re replicas,” he said, holding up a cloth bag for Wade to take. “The actual void prisons are in here.”
Wade peered into the bag then nodded at Emeryn.
“Then what are those?” she asked.
Heradion’s eyes glittered wickedly in the light of the torches. “I’ve left Taera a little surprise as a way of saying ‘hello’.”
“Something big is getting very close,” Freyn said, her voice shaking a little.
A small quake made the whole chamber rumble.
“You should probably leave now,” Heradion said, a toothy smile plastered on his face. The old bastard looked excited.
Emeryn pushed Wade toward the entrance she’d made. “Let’s go!”
As they ran, Emeryn collapsed the tunnel behind them, hoping Taera would not be able to pursue her this time. Vines cracked the rock walls and ceiling.
A stronger quake sent dust raining down from above. The torches flickered out. Stone cracked below their feet. Freyn yelped, falling in the dark as the ceiling collapsed. Emeryn desperately reached out to render the stone harmless but didn’t catch all the falling debris. Stones pounded into them.
Freyn screamed again, and Emeryn felt her bones shatter under the heavy downpour, only for her body to knit itself together again. As Tomford healed her, Emeryn refocused on keeping the stone from crushing them to death.
A lot of fumbling in the dark, coughing, and groaning later, they finally emerged through Emeryn’s re-opened exit. Fresh air never felt so good.
“Is everyone well?” Tomford asked, wheezing up dust.
“Thank you for the healing,” Emeryn said, looking to Tomford, who was frowning at Freyn for some reason.
He blinked and turned to her. “Don’t mention it. Thank you for making sure we didn’t end up in an earthen grave.”
“I did not enjoy that at all,” Wade said, coughing into his arm. He still had Heradion’s bag in his clutches. “Did the old bastard get buried?”
Emeryn shook her head. “He never left the chamber.”
“We must leave,” Freyn said, staring eastward with an intense gaze.
“What?” Tomford asked.
“The Kin are coming.”
“Dammit!” Emeryn shouted. “Where?”
“Follow me,” Freyn said, setting off at a brisk walk.
Emeryn glanced down at the collapsed tunnel, hoping Taera had sustained some injuries. Perhaps then she’d be more than willing to cooperate.
One part of Emeryn, the part of her that raged against the broken god’s treatment of her people, hoped they’d get to humble that crazed Halvgud themselves. Taera deserved to suffer.