Possessing the Grimstone

chapter Ten


“A bit overly dramatic, don’t you think?” Shannara asked Tolan. There was a gleam in her eye, and a smirk across her lips.

“You do not take the threat to Athora seriously?”

“On the contrary. If you had seen what my seers have seen, your hair would be white. I mean no insult, but we have encountered our first challenge, and you see the world ending. I feel our constitutions are a bit stronger than that.”

“And I mean no insult, Queen Shannara, but you must fathom the gravity of the situation. It cannot be taken lightly. I have seen firsthand what this enemy can do.”

“No doubt, they are fearsome. I prefer to hold confidence than despair, but we’re all different.” She walked up to the stone gate, and laid her hands on it. “I sense power behind this entryway: old magic. There is definitely an energy left behind by the Mulcavrii.”

“You feel the magic?” Pim asked.

She turned to him and nodded with a smile. “Indeed. It’s another gift of my people. We feel magic where it lingers, or its residue when it’s been used, or is about to be used. There is a slight change in the air, a charge, so to speak. Particles form around the natural world, and then concentrate. Sometimes we are able to harness it for a short time.”

“Really? Maybe you can use the magic to open the gate!” Pim shouted optimistically.

Shannara shook her head. “No, I’m afraid this magic is too old. The residue is weak, and there isn’t enough of it.”

Pim nodded, and tried not to stare at her quite so obviously.

“That doesn’t mean there isn’t something on the inside we can use. Panno.”

One of the seers got up from his perch. He removed the hood from his head and moved to the gate. Placing both hands on it, he pressed his head gently to the stone, and closed his eyes.

Everyone focused their attention on him. It took quite a bit effort for Pim to pull himself from Shannara, but he, too, managed to watch Panno.

“There is darkness beyond.” Panno began. “Passageways, heights, coming together. Memories… power, too much, flooded with it. Uncontrollable. Death, guilt, repentance. Nothing else useful.” He caught his breath and began to pant. A bit of perspiration glistened on the back of his neck. Finally, he pulled his hands away. “Sorry, there is nothing that would help us open it. No gears or wheels, no levers, no devices. It is a mystery.”

“Good try,” Shannara said. She put her hand on Panno’s shoulder, then ran it over his face, caressing his cheek. He seemed to blush before returning to his seat beside the other seer.

Such an interesting people, these D’Elkyrie, Pim thought. He stared at the gate and the carving of the Mulcavrii above it, wings spread wide, arms reaching for the skies. Movement caught his attention, and Pim watched Tolan make his way past the group and to the gate. He drew his sword and slashed it over and over.

Pim saw the frustration in the warrior; his patience was dwindling. Finally, Tolan stopped, and curled his free hand into a fist. He pounded on the gate a few times before stepping back, chest heaving, head hanging low.

Drith chuckled to himself behind Pim. The Wivering could almost feel the hot air of the Southern king’s breath on his back.

Shannara conversed with her seers while the rest of her warriors sharpened their dagblades. Pim remembered his first glimpse of them gliding in on their artificial wings, launching an attack fiercer than he had ever seen. “Why did you leave your wings behind?” he asked.

Shannara pulled her attention away from Panno and the other seer. “They are not meant for permanent use. They are of delicate craftsmanship, and wear out over time. We were on higher ground when we took to the air, which is the only way they are successful. After we leave the Graywing Mountains, there would not be much use for them.”

“I see.” Pim smiled at her, then looked away, shyness taking him over. He thought of their wings, and of the Mulcavrii, again. He studied the gate once more. Then the words of his people flashed through his mind.

The First People traded their wings so that we may fish in the rivers and farm in the fields…

Something caught Pim’s attention. The First People, the Mulcavrii, were the only ones at the time with wings, but they were not the only people to exist. Others came come along. How would one keep intruders out? Using what makes you unique, gifted. All the various races of Athora were gifted in one way or another.

“I think I know,” Pim said, rising to his feet. All eyes turned to him. “The carving of the Mulcavrii…” he pointed up at it. “It might contain a secret lever or key. The First People could fly—they would be the only ones to reach that carving… an inventive way of keeping strangers out.”

“Brilliant!” Shannara said with a laugh. “But we have no wings in the group now, nor do any of you. How do we reach the carving?”

Pim turned to Drith.

Drith rolled his eyes. “Very clever, Wivering, you wish to make use of my gift. So be it.” He walked over the face of the mountain and scaled the gate. He climbed with ease, clinging to the rocky edifice like a spider. He crawled to the carving of the winged humanoid, and searched it with his hands.

For a few moments, it seemed fruitless, but finally, Drith pressed the carving’s forehead, and a piece of it sunk in.

The gate yawned open with a rumble, stretching a curtain of cobwebs across its opening. Drith dropped to his feet without a misstep, and returned to his guard.

“Well done, my friend!” Tolan patted Pim on his back, and then tussled his hair. “Come, history awaits.” He fished around the packs on his horse, and fetched some torches and flint. He threw one to Pim, one to Drith, and kept one for himself.

They fastened their horses to a single skeletal tree, and moved toward the dark opening: a jagged slice in the side of the mountain.

Pim scratched the flint against the stone wall, and sparks fell to his torch, igniting it. A hot, rancid breeze washed over his face as they moved into the mountain. The cave walls were moist. Dripping sounds resonated in the distance.

The gate closed behind them after they’d all passed through it. Shannara drew her twin blades, and the others followed suit. The passageway, with its smooth floors and walls, twisted and turned, ascending higher and higher within the mountain.

The group walked through a great arch carved with strange runes and more figures with wings. The stone of the arch glittered in the torchlight; it was unlike anything Pim had ever seen. He wanted to touch it, and even reached his hand out, but reconsidered and pulled back at the last minute.

Shadows writhed on the walls and ceiling, seeming alive.

They came to a small landing with double archways. Darkness swelled beyond them; it was colder. He looked all around him, waiting for cues from Tolan, Shannara, and Drith. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he noticed something move above him. As he looked up and lifted his torch, the ceiling shifted.

Terror gripped him. His heart lurched into his throat, and he gasped. Drith’s guard rushed to Pim and shoved him out of the way as a jelly mass dropped from the ceiling.

The ochre-colored, flesh-eating jelly covered Drith’s guard. His scream drowned in a gargle as his skin melted, and his muscles dissolved. The jelly devoured the man’s body and liquefied every part.

The others looked on in horror as he sank into oblivion and the jelly spread out on the floor. A pair of fleshless arms reached one last time from the center of the slick.

Tolan lunged at the jelly and swung his torch at it. The creature blazed with crackling fire and slithered past the warrior, through the archways into the darkness.

Pim watched the light of the flames from his spot on the floor. They grew weaker and weaker until they dropped off, altogether. Pim saw Tolan’s hand reach down in front of him. The stunned Wivering managed to shake himself back to reality and take it. “He saved my life.”

“And now I have no guard,” Drith said.

“I will guard you,” Pim said. He moved to Drith and pushed his sword into the floor before him. “I owe it to your guard.”

“Spare me your drivel, Wivering.” Drith dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “You cannot hope to protect me. You are much too young and inexperienced. Your battle skills are lacking.”

“You may not believe in me, but I will watch over you.”

“Do as you wish.” He walked away from Pim, who joined Tolan and Shannara at the double archways.

“To the right, or left?” Tolan asked Shannara.

“Panno tells me it makes no difference,” she answered. “The passages circle around and meet at the same point. The center is a great drop. We must watch our steps.”

He chose the left path, and the others followed him: Shannara, her warriors and seers, Pim behind them, and Drith at the rear.

The torchlight brought the chamber to life bit by bit. All around them, ledges of various shapes and sizes covered the walls. The chamber was a huge oval-shaped area with steep walls..

Bridges spanned across the chasm, connecting both sides of the chamber.

Everyone looked up with awe. They were the only ones to stand and see where the First People had actually lived and thrived, where they’d built and created, where they’d ruled for thousands of years.

They stopped at a wall that had the most ledges. The lowest one was just out of reach of any of them, but Drith stepped to the forefront, and once more, scaled the wall.

He reached down to Tolan and helped him up to the ledge. The warrior, in turn, helped the last of the Cardoon soldiers. Shannara leaped through the air, flipped once, and locked onto Tolan’s arms, pulling herself up to the ledge. She winked at Pim and extended her arm.

Pim melted inside, but kept himself together. He took Shannara’s hand; her flesh was hot, her grip strong.

“Panno, you may come with me. Jodan,” Shannara addressed the other seer, “Stay here with my sisters. We want our backs guarded. We’ll take the journey to the next level.” She drew her dagblades again, and followed Tolan, Pim, and the others upward.

Each ledge acted as a step toward the top. Torches flickered in a slight breeze. Pim was between Tolan, above him, and Shannara, below. Drith led the charge, scuttling up the ledges with ease.

At last, they reached a huge doorway with massive, ornate pillars flanking each side. Pim marched through with the others, and froze in his steps. So did the rest of the group. The most amazing sight awaited them on the other side of the entryway.

A vast land stretched impossibly as far as the eye could see. A red and purple sky glowed with a blanket of stars, stretching to the horizon, where a rushing waterfall poured down into a shimmering river.

A mix of night and day permeated the land, dazzling Pim and the others. Trees and plant life glowed with phosphorescence. Birds dotted the sky, fluttering across it and into the trees.

Stone bridges with rocky banisters stretched from land to the walls and rooftops of ancient homes. They gazed upon the houses of the First People, the Mulcavrii. These stone dwellings were painted with vibrant mosaics, and carved with more runes and faces of the original inhabitants.

Almost unable to speak, Tolan managed to form words, and pointed out across the new land. “Let us enter their domain, their homes, to find the truth.”

“There’s an entire world inside here,” Pim said with excitement and wonder. “How is this even possible?”

“The First People possessed the Grimstone,” Shannara said. “Remember this, Pim. This kind of power comes with a price.”

They chose the first bridge they came to, and crossed it into the strange land. Pim felt the very stone of the bridge vibrating. He looked down to see a rushing river, and thick, lush green jungle encroaching on both of its banks.

A continuous wall connected all of the homes, running between and behind each one. The wall was crafted with many different shaped stones of varying colors.

Tolan got close to it and brought his torch directly before it. The light revealed drawings and painting of the Mulcavrii. “Here, as I thought, is where they recorded their lives.”

Pim stepped up to the wall, Shannara joining his side. They observed the First People in the midst of religious ceremonies, praying, blessing, and sacrificing. There were drawings of them dancing, crafting, and sculpting. There were drawings of them soaring through Athora’s young skies and misty seas.

One image showed the Mulcavrii discovering the Grimstone. It was found on a beach; it may or may not have been the Silver Coast to the west. They were shown playing with the stone, revering it, holding it above all else.

The stone rested on great pedestals until they learned to use its power, creating color and life, manipulating the weather, and multiplying the land’s food until things took a turn.

“Look here,” Tolan said as he stepped to a separate section of the wall strewn with cracks and holes. At his feet, he noticed the remains of what looked like tribal masks. He was careful to not step on them. “They began fighting over it, even warring with each other, spilling blood into the river, poisoning their beauty and families. The power got more unstable. Their war spilled outside their mountains and into Athora. Other creatures came for the stone. Out of caves, lakes, trees, all of them made war. The First People nearly wiped each other out. Green fires burned the forests, the skies rained with blood, the power of the stone threatened to tear the world apart.”

“They stopped themselves,” Pim said. He followed the story of the wall further down the road. “They tried destroying it, but it couldn’t be done. This shows them in their last attempt, when the stone shattered into three pieces.”

“But it stops there,” Shannara said. “It doesn’t show where they put the pieces.”

“That was probably intentional,” Tolan said. “They didn’t want any of their people going after them. Smart.”

“Now what?” she said.

Pim looked around, behind him, he saw Drith studying the wall, soaking in the scenes of the stone performing magic and miracles. He saw the Southerner mouth the word “food”.

Pim turned back, and followed the wall further. “There’s a map here… or part of one.”

The others joined the Wivering. The map was partly faded and smudged with mud.

“It still doesn’t show where the pieces were hidden,” Tolan said. “But this may have been where they held council and decided. They used the map to pick the best places.”

Shannara looked over the map until Panno, her seer, came to it. He ran his hand over it, and paused. His fingers wriggled over what appeared to be swamplands.

He turned to Shannara. “I know the next destination of our journey. This is why we came to the city of the First People: to be pointed in the right direction.”

“That looks like the swamplands on the other side of these mountains,” Tolan said. “Does your seer think one of the pieces is there?”

“No,” Shannara replied. “But there may be someone who does know where they are; someone maybe as old as the First People; someone who lived in their time, and still lives today.”

Drith looked over at them and snarled. “You’re talking of going to Mort A’ghas?”

“Aye.”

“We cannot go there,” he said with some fear. “It’s the Church of the Dead. It’s where the accursed go, the damned; things from the under lands, the shadows. We cannot go to that forbidden place.”

“I fear we have no choice.”

“No, the stone was discovered on the beaches of the Baltha Sea, on the Silver Coast. We should go there and search… perhaps there is another stone.”

“We could search a lifetime in the Blatha Sea and find nothing. There is only one Grimstone, and its pieces are hidden. We cannot find them alone.”

“Who do you speak of?” Pim asked.

“The Lich Lord,” Shannara answered. “Ruler of Mort A’ghas, the Church of the Dead.”