his pouch, he searches for the ring all the while continuing to back away from Jiron. He steps lightly so as not to announce his exact location. His fingers search the pouch but fail to find the ring.
“Tinok told me of how you sent him away the night Cassie died,” he says.
Tinok? Tinok was here too? A feeling that something’s definitely not right comes over him. Dave and Tinok being here at the same time? Unlikely. His mind begins to throw off the anger and rage as cool logic asserts itself.
Vague outlines begin to appear as his eyes adjust to the darkness. “Jiron,” he says. “When did you talk to Tinok?”
“After you fell in the water,” he replies. “I followed you and found him.”
“You followed me?” he asks. Suddenly, his orb springs to life in the palm of his hand. It’s a strain to hold even that much magic, his head is throbbing so badly. Seeing the knife rise to strike, he says, “Wait!”
The knife pauses. “Why should I, murderer?” Jiron asks.
“How did you get past the monster in the water?” he asks.
“There was no monster,” he says. “I did find where the Empire was holding Tinok. He was mutilated!” His eyes still show the intensity of emotion at what was done to his friend.
James sees the knife begin to move and hollers as fast as he can, “If the Empire controlled this area, then why didn’t the mages follow?” He closes his eyes and braces for the knife to strike. When the attack doesn’t come, he opens his eyes to see the knife but inches from his throat. Jiron stares at him with a thoughtful look on his face. He can see the rage beginning to melt away.
Then it all clicks together. The smell of his grandmother’s cinnamon rolls; Jiron seeing the headless torso; finding a room right out of one of his campaigns. “It wasn’t real,” he says to him. “None of it was.”
“But…” he stammers and then looks down at the front of his shirt. The blood that had stained it from when he held Tinok is no longer there. “I held him in my arms,” he says as the hand holding the knife drops back to his side.
“I know,” James says laying a hand on his shoulder. “I found Dave. He told me you were an agent of the Empire and had handed him over to them at Ironhold.”
Jiron’s head comes up. “I did no such thing,” he asserts.
“Just as I did not send Tinok away,” he states with conviction.
“Then what happened?” he asks.
“I don’t know,” he admits. “Maybe this place is cursed in some way, turns people against each other.”
Jiron sheathes his knife. “I’m sorry,” he says. The rage which so threatened to consume him has now completely left him.
“So am I,” replies James with a sad grin. “What do you say we get out of here before anything else happens?”
“Yeah,” agrees Jiron. “Let’s get out of here.”
The light from the orb reveals that they are no longer in the room they landed in when they fell through the floor. This one is much smaller. A raised dais sits prominently in the center of the room, the room itself is only two feet wider than the dais. It’s what’s depicted upon the dais that concerns James.
“Jiron look,” he says as he draws Jiron’s attention to the symbol of three dots forming a triangle with lines running between them.
“That’s not good,” he says. “But why would they have a temple here in a place that’s cursed?”
James glances around the small room. A shudder runs through him from the cold that’s leeching the warmth from his body. “I’m not even sure we are in the same place.” Looking down at himself, he finds the front of his shirt no longer shows where the lightning bolt had struck him. He touches it to reassure himself it was never really there.
Turning back to Jiron he starts to say something when a small creature suddenly appears in the air behind Jiron’s left shoulder. “Jiron!” he whispers as he points to the creature hovering just beyond his shoulder. Barely a foot in height, the scaly creature is roughly man-like. Hunched over as if it’s carrying too much weight, it stares at them from its gnarled head with glowing red eyes.
When Jiron turns and sees the creature, he quickly takes two steps backward. “What is it?” he asks. The creature stays there but a moment before disappearing.
“I don’t know what that was,” replies James. “But we better get out of here fast.” A sense of foreboding comes over him and the room all of a sudden feels smaller.
“I’m with you there,” agrees Jiron. A single corridor extends away from the room. With knife in hand, he takes the lead. He doesn’t make it far before another of those creatures appears between them.
This time, the creature reacts animatedly and chitters at them before disappearing. Jiron glances back at James who shrugs. Turning back, he continues down the corridor.
James’ feeling of foreboding begins to grow into one of impending doom with every step he takes. Just then, the tingling that warns of magic being worked comes to him. Strong and powerful, the feeling is more intense than anything he’s ever felt before.
“Jiron,” he whispers urgently. “Magic!”
Stopping, Jiron glances back and sees the pallor of James’ face. “Close?” he asks.
“It has to be,” he replies.
Then Jiron’s eyes widen. “James!” he says pointing to his chest. “The medallion.”
Looking down, he sees light coming from his beneath his shirt. Pulling out the medallion, the Star upon it bursts into brilliant light.
A frigid wind sweeps down the corridor from further ahead bringing despair and sapping the will. James looks down the corridor to find a figure standing there. Suddenly, the air around them is filled with dozens of the tiny creatures. Chittering and shrieking, the creatures avoid close proximity to the light as they move to strike at them with their tiny claws.
Jiron draws forth both knives and begins fighting back. The creatures move so quickly he is having little effect. A shimmer forms around them as James creates his barrier to keep the creatures at bay. But it does little good, the creatures begin appearing within the barrier.
Jiron finally manages to impale one on his knife. The creature lets out a high pitched squeal then disappears. “James, do something!” he yells as his knives continue to dance, keeping the creatures away.
You have come, mage.
The light coming from the medallion keeps the creatures away from him, the effects of contact with it appears to hurt them. James stands transfixed by the figure at the other end of the corridor until one of the creatures braves the light from the medallion and scores on his right arm. Three lines of red, each several inches long burn like acid as blood begins to well. Then another scores on his leg, ripping the pant leg and baring the flesh beneath.
The tingling sensation spikes and he throws up a barrier to seal off the corridor between themselves and the figure in the hallway. Energy, massive energy strikes the barrier and shatters it. Then all of a sudden the air is free of the little creatures as they disappear all at once.
Jiron grabs him by the arm and hollers, “Come on!” Dragging him back down the corridor, they flee.
James glances back and sees two other cowled figures in the corridor next to the first one. Moving around the stationary figure, they make their way down the corridor toward the fleeing pair.
Running fast they return to the room with the raised dais. “Now what?” asks Jiron. From his position at the entrance to the corridor, he sees the cowled figures coming closer. The original one they encountered is now lost in the darkness.
“I don’t know,” admits James. Searching the walls, he prays to find a secret door or any other way in which to escape.
“How did we get here?” asks Jiron. “Think fast we don’t have much time.”
“Uh, we were fighting,” he says as he tries to recall just what happened. “We were struggling and then the ceiling fell in. Then suddenly we were here.”
“How!”
“How…” mumbles James as he tries to figure it out. From his position in the room, he can see the two figures coming closer. Glancing around the room, his eyes settle on the dais. The dais?
His skin crawls as the tingling sensation spikes. “Away from the opening,” he yells to Jiron.
