Chapter 3: The Dead Place ------------------------- The tedious trip to Albrook resumed first thing in the morning. Kuranes, utterly exhausted after many sleepless nights, did all that he could to keep up with Faris. The older warrior offered assistance a few times, but Kuranes stubbornly refused. He had been able to make trips like this with ease! Now things were different; ever since the "accident," it was a struggle to move at all. It had been two long weeks since he had last slept peacefully--his strength had deserted him. Kuranes simmered in his foul mood for most of the day. He kept his eyes on the gravel before his feet, unable (and unwilling) to look anywhere else. If he looked up, /they/ might be able to recognize him--and /they/ would come after him. Lost in his thoughts, he failed to notice Faris come to a sudden halt, and walked right into him. Kuranes lost his fragile balance and collapsed in a heap. Faris knelt beside his half-dead friend, visibly alarmed. He immediately lifted him back to his feet, and held him steady for a moment. "By the Goddess!" he vowed, "The first thing we're going to do in Albrook is get you some help." "Bring me to the druggist then," Kuranes replied. "I lost all the sleep potions in the... fire. They are my only refuge now." Faris nodded reluctantly. "Unfortunately, we're much further north than I planned. We won't be reaching Albrook until tomorrow." "What? /Another/ night out here? Why?!" Kuranes looked away, returning his gaze to the ground. "I planned this route in order to bypass the dead place altogether, but it seems I was wrong." Kuranes snapped his head up, looking around with frightful intensity. "Would we reach Albrook by mid-night if we cut through the dead place?" Faris paled considerably. "What?! That's out of the question." "I'll probably be dead by tomorrow night if we don't get to Albrook soon! Look. I have not slept /once/ since that night... the things that fill my head! I'm going to go mad if I have to stand another day of this!" "But.../through the dead place/? It would be horrible. The air is so..." he shivered. "The air! What can the air do to us?! We are in more danger standing in this forest than we would be in the dead place. I've been in a similar place before...the 'air' drives every other living thing away." Faris looked horrified. "You've been in one before, and you're willing to return? By the Goddess, how can you stand it?" "It's a patch of dead trees," he sighed wearily. "The one near home happened to be a good source of rare reagents." Faris regarded his friend for a moment--and reluctantly nodded. Kuranes resembled a brittle twig, and probably /would/ die by tomorrow. "Very well. Your health is much more important than my petty fears anyway... I suppose it's the smarter choice." It wasn't quite obvious at first; the trees began to thin out some, and a dead one would appear every so often. The dead trees stood alone among the living, then in small decaying clusters. The underbrush that snared their feet vanished. The moist forest soil became thin, like ashes, and rustled softly when underfoot. The entire forest then died rather abruptly, leaving only the blasted trunks that rose into the sky like an army of baleful spears. Kuranes inhaled the alien air and felt it course through his blood, lifting the fog of weariness that had been plaguing him for so long. His oppressive fears died with the trees, as if they too hated the place. He lifted his head and looked around for the first time all day. Shandell called the dead places "cancerous sores on the flesh of the earth." Kuranes agreed. When magic ceased to exist, the dying world began to heal... except for a few patches of land here and there. Life did not return to these places; what little life still remained either died or left for better homes. It was totally inexplicable, like Faris had said--there was just something /wrong/ in the air. "This place reminds me of the Phantom Forest," Faris said as they went, "except /that/ place was alive." Something caught Kuranes eye. "Ah, but there is life here! Here--bloodmoss." He knelt beside a rotting log and examined it with great interest. He began to dig into the soft wood, and lifted a handful of red fungus that seemed to have a blood-like sheen. "It looks horrible!" Faris said. "Yes," Kuranes replied, not really meaning it, "but it's incredibly rare, and quite powerful." He dug more and more of the moss out, and placed it in one of his pouches. Faris suddenly gripped his shoulder with painful intensity. "Something is following us." Kuranes froze, and listened to the thin silence. There was nothing, not even a breeze. Yet, Faris was the experienced one in these matters... "Come on." Faris pulled him to his feet. "Just pretend there's nothing the matter." "Easy for you to say." The first prick of the returning fear jabbed at the back of his mind. He imagined half-seen horrors slinking just out of sight, waiting for the right moment-- "There it is again!" Faris whispered. "A slight rustling, like a misplaced step." Kuranes couldn't resist the urge to look around--but there was nothing to see, only the blasted trees. This continued for quite some time. Nothing leaped out to attack them--only that random rustling that made Faris question his sanity. As the began the descent down a steep ridge, it came again, and this time they both heard it. "Damn this cursed place!" Faris finally swore. "Whatever you are...face me now, and stop hiding in the shadows like a coward!" The challenge seemed to be swallowed up by the dead air. Faris planted his feet in the ground, sword in hand, and waited for a reply. The silence continued. Kuranes looked around wildly, and saw only the same. Faris stood completely still, lips drawn together in firm resolution. It was then that there came a soft, menacing hiss from no where in particular. All the fears slammed into Kuranes full force, and he staggered back suddenly, all the life draining from his skin. "Faris," he said weakly, "it's the maskim." The ground exploded up from beneath Kuranes's feet. He felt himself tumbling down the slope, seeing only ground, sky, ground, sky. A terrible pain thundered up his spine as he crashed into a rotting stump. He lay there, frozen in horror. Maskim seemed to be materializing out of thin air. The monstrous things leaped out of the branchless trees, while others clawed their way out of the dead soil. Faris nearly dropped his sword in horror. Within seconds he found himself the center of a circle of a dozen hissing maskim. "Kuranes!" Faris bellowed. He whirled his sword a few times to keep the things at bay. "Save yourself, man! I'll hold them off for as long as I can..." The maskim suddenly fell silent and went limp. One looked up and grinned, revealing rows of needle-like teeth. Faris swallowed nervously. The maskim stepped forward, whipping its tail back and forth, eagerly anticipating the kill. Faris steeled himself, and glanced down at Kuranes for an instant. Their eyes met, and Kuranes knew that his only friend in the world was doomed. Faris looked back at the obscenely grinning maskim, and raised his sword in a knightly salute. "By the Goddess, I'll send you and your brood back to the hell that spawned you!" He leaped forward with a savage cry. His sword slashed out at incredible speed, straight for the maskim's heart. The thing shrugged, sidestepped the attack, and tore Faris open with a single swipe. The maskim, still grinning, licked the gore-stained claw and cocked it's head to regard Kuranes for the first time. He felt his body go numb, and a scream escaped his lips. The intelligence in those eyes! The incredible power that gleamed in those orbs awed him as much as it terrified him. But then it began to waver, and disappeared entirely. The creature lost its grin, and the other maskim snapped back to attention with a collective hiss. They immediately lunged forward and sunk their teeth into the still-living Faris. Kuranes began to back away, his eyes still locked upon what still remained of his friend. He pushed his way through the dirt, finally climbing to his feet and /running/ as fast as he possibly could. Visions of his own grisly demise danced gleefully across the stage of his mind, driving him faster and faster. A soft hiss floated to his ears--then silence. They were coming! Even now, they were probably gaining on him, reaching out with bloody claws... he turned and looked back. A dark shape filled his vision, lunging forward. He fell back with a hoarse cry as the maskim whistled by overhead, claws gleaming in the bright noon sun. The creature remained still for only an instant, and was in the air again, it's aim corrected. Kuranes rolled to his left, and claws tore into the earth a hair's breath from his head. He looked up into the eyes again, but there was no intelligence there now, only an animal savagery, eagerly awaiting the taste of his blood on it's lips. The claws were in the air again. Kuranes reached for the dagger tucked safely in his belt, pulling it out so very slowly, the claws diving for his heart... the dull blade met the claws, and pierced gray flesh. The maskim's hiss of triumph twisted into a shriek of agony as it leapt backwards, off Kuranes and down into the dirt. It clutched at the tiny wound, howling and screaming, and withered away before his very eyes. He blinked. Now there was only nothing, not even a pile of ash to mark what had once been a maskim. He clawed his way back to his feet and ran onward, always glancing around for other maskim, but they were nowhere in sight. He ran through what had once been a large clearing in the forest, towards the far line of blasted trees. The sun shone down on his uncovered head with ominous intensity, like a beacon proclaiming his position. Kuranes cursed and threw the hood over his head, a futile gesture. He looked back as he ran between the first of the trunks, and saw a handful of gray shapes charging through the trees into the clearing, right for him. Kuranes ran blindly forward, keeping his eyes locked on the approaching doom. Suddenly, the soil gave way under his feet, and for one horrible moment, he was falling--not into the jaws of a maskim lying in wait, but into a pool of incredibly cold water. He thrashed in the frigid water in a panic, trying to find the surface. His feet touched the muddy bottom, and he shot up back into the air. He had fallen into what had once been a swamp. Now it was dead, like everything else in this place. The trees were dead, the water was dead, the air was dead, and death was coming up fast from the rear. No time to think--Kuranes waded through the frigid water, towards what looked like a cluster of dead mangroves. If only there was someplace to hide! Once the maskim lost the trail, he'd be safe. He'd nearly crossed the first bog when there was quiet splash at the edge of the swamp. He looked back, and sure enough, six maskim were standing on the ridge overlooking the swamp, while a seventh had jumped down in pursuit. For one brief moment, the maskim began to thrash in the water; perhaps the maskim couldn't swim! Three more maskim leaped down into the icy water, and within seconds were swimming forward, propelling themselves with their reptilian tails. Kuranes cursed bitterly. The creatures closed the distance with frightful speed, licking their chops as they came. The water seemed to be in league with the things, pushing him back, resisting his every step. There--he spotted a tiny island only a few steps ahead! If could just reach it in time, he'd at least be able to defend himself against them... the water receded down to his knees, and Kuranes barely splashed ashore ahead of the maskim. He tumbled down onto his knees, and groped for the knife in his belt. He fumbled around for a second, then felt it slip through his fingers and into the soft mud. He reached for the knife... the ground seemed to shift underfoot, and Kuranes found himself falling back into a small depression. The maskim hissed in mockery as they came nearer, ready to pounce... He tore the mud off of his eyes, and looked up to see a patch of old spores inches from his face. The maskim were splashing up out of the water, only a few feet away...his brain clicked; the spores! He tore a handful out of the ground and hurled them at the airborne creatures. The brittle pods disintegrated on contact, and sure enough, the maskim crashed to the ground, clutching their throats. More splashes from behind--the other maskim were coming in to finish him off. Kuranes retrieved his knife, and eyed the four paralyzed monsters for only a moment. There was no time to dispel them; the others would be on him! He turned and ran down the opposite side, back into the numbing water. Down, across another bog, through more patches of dead mangrove trees. There was no splash behind him, no maskim swimming in pursuit. They remained on the small isle, watching him flee with impassive black orbs, uncomprehending and uncaring. Kuranes ran. He ran across more bogs, over more islands and through more dead trees. The landscape did not change, and until it did, Kuranes would not stop. Only when warmth had returned to the air, and when life had returned to the trees did Kuranes falter. His knees buckled, his frozen legs lost their strength and he fell face-first into the enveloping mud... and for the first time in weeks, he slept.