Ice King jumped off the trail again to land ten feet lower before turning to take the stepped shelves of base stone head on. Each stride brought him greater speed and the Har Karoome wondered how even this horse could maintain his feet. In mere seconds, they flowed onto the valley floor far faster than the terrified elf had ever ridden before. There was no hesitation as he sped to the west following something that told of his bond to the princess. After ten minutes of hard running, covering more terrain than the elf thought possible, he began to see a speck on the distant horizon. The speck was huge and it was moving swiftly; taking giant strides in sandaled feet kicking up puffs of dust with every step.

  On another steed Drick would have put heels to its flanks to speed it on but that was unnecessary on Ice King and he clutched tighter, barely able to maintain his balance under such speeds. The speck they chased had more than tripled in size and he realized how fast the giant must be running. He could define the bundle over his shoulder that had to be Juil by the way Ice King ran. They were in open field of patchwork snow and winter grass separating them by less than a mile and they were gaining on them. The giant’s objective seemed to be a small scattering of undeveloped spires standing bone white, in the typical surface of the surrounding range. They would not be able to reach the giant before he tucked behind the tiny spires, which could very well hold a cave or an army for all he could tell. Either way he had better be prepared for anything once he rounded the point. He scanned for a potential pass through the pillars of the range, fingerling's knowing the uselessness of that since his mount would not alter its present course.

  He looked up and down the mini range wondering what kind of allies the giant could have positioned here. Everything looked devoid of life until a set of wings suddenly opened up high on one of the tallest spires and a huge body broke away from the rock face falling into a downward spiral only to have the massive wings catch the air and propelled it out and away from the rocks at an incredible velocity. A teeth grinding shriek ripped through the air and Drick knew fear.

  “Another pterodac, not even Ice King can out run a pterodac.” The Har Karoome readied his bow as he breathed a sigh of relief when he realized that the beast didn’t seem to be interested in him. His relief was short lived when he realized what the vile creature’s target was.

  Ice King and the Har Karoome rounded the end of the stone fingerling without a change in pace relying upon surprise and speed to guide their entrance rather than stealth. His bow, whose arrows were replenished from the vanguard’s stores, was drawn and he had two more shafts poking out from between his fingers. Shooting from horse back is difficult at best and virtually impossible while on the backs of some mounts, but those steeds weren’t Ice King and the archer wasn’t Drick, eldest son of Diedrick, the first general to the crown of Lindrow, Great King of the Elves.

  He no sooner saw the giant when he let fly and quickly had a second one in the air so fast it split the seconds.

  The giant stood in front of a wooden structure. that was odd as there was no wood to be had in the Spires. The first arrow took him in the thigh causing the beast to stumble but by no means slowing him down. The second arrow took him in the same hip as the thigh shot and the third up in the outside of his shoulder, none of the wounds critical.

  Letting rage get the better of him, the giant turned on the Har Karoome and bellowed a howl of pain. Drick saw two more of his own arrows sticking from a thick leather breast plate with a third finding skin low and inside that same hip he had hit before. So far, he had stitched up and down that left side pretty well, but not near enough to cause lasting damage on a giant. He slung his bow and while drawing his blade, jumped off the back of Ice King whose intent was clear.

  The giant stallion of Lilieack, who was renowned for breeding the greatest of lines throughout the world, plunged with its full weight into the giant’s midsection, knocking him back into the wood contraption behind. It was then that Drick saw it for what it was, though he hadn’t seen one in the flesh, so to speak but he recognized its purpose.

  They were taught about them in strategy courses as required by his father’s rank but it had been many centuries since the need for a siege engine was required, let alone a trebuchet. In fact, he couldn’t recall one ever having been deployed this side of the Matoone, the elvish word for the Swirl. His horror increased tenfold when he saw what or who was strapped to the vile contraption’s sling.

  It didn’t take the shadow of the pterodac for the young elf to decipher the plan and he had to admit that it was brilliant, albeit risky, and there was no way in the pits he was going to let it come to fruition.

  The giant was regaining its feet after having been bowled over by the steed, ignoring the blood that poured from his wounds, he squared off against the Har Karoome who leaped at the giant as soon as he came into range.

  He could see the lokai blood from the rune still coating his blade, giving him the confidence to cut through the tough hide of the gigantic being. He didn’t know what spell Juil had cast with the rune but he did know that with every dousing of magic his blade received, the stronger and more effective it became against the beasts of the Spires. Drick was comfortable that with its recent dousing it would be more than adequate here.

  He leaped at the giant, feinting as if to go high which was a typical elven strategy. Get to the eyes and blind it or the throat and bleed it. Both good strategies especially when attacking in force but Drick was alone and wanted to immobilize it before it could trigger whatever mechanism it was that would initiate the trebuchet. His leap turned into a dive which he directed between the enormous feet coming up behind and hamstringing the left leg.

  Again with the left side. Drick cursed himself knowing that being predictable in battle was never a good thing and it turned on him almost immediately. The giant tucked his good leg up and under him so as not to allow that one to be disabled and faced the elf on his hands and knees, his eyes almost down to level with the diminutive elf.

  His hands swept out in front of him like a fat man chasing a mouse across the parlor floor and the mouse biting his fingers all the while. Drick leaped inside his grasp and used the giant’s own forearm as a spring board to launch him up and into the giant’s face. He struck out with his sword, grateful for his father’s advice on taking the longer blade into the wilderness. He defended against a swatting right with his trident styled sword breaker which he had drawn instinctively, jamming the center spike deep into the heel of its palm as his sword dragged a deep cut across the left eye, severing the pupil in half. The sight caused a wave of revulsion at the visual it created and excitement at how much more this disabled his opponent with only one regret.

  Left side again.

  Giants, like trolls, were bad actors and too slow to complete a decent feint, so when this one pulled back and pretended to be in great pain, Drick didn’t buy it. There was no surrender out here in the wilds, there was only death, and the Har Karoome advanced with this in mind. He would kill this giant if he had to carve him up an inch at a time, even if it took all day. He could see Ice King over by the princess, biting at the ropes binding her to the sling and he was confident she would be free soon.

  He swiped at the giant and as the beast drew back, a large cast iron cleaver appeared in his hand and the Har Karoome wanted to laugh. Cast iron, no matter how thick, could never stand up against elven steel. The giant did a lumbering feint and then rolled back away from Drick’s flurried attack. He paused as the shadow of the pterodac passed overhead, giving him the unnerving feeling of dread. The giant lunged, swinging the cast iron cleaver with a mighty arm. Drick barely avoided it by leaping backwards in a rolling somersault and by the time he reached his feet, it was already too late.

  The giant rolled like a log toward Juil who was still bound to the sling. Ice King pulled away from the princess to again attack the giant that was rolling toward his bond mate.

  The giant had no intentions on the princess, nor did he want the horse, though it did look rather tasty. He doubted he would get the chance to try such special horseflesh as he knew that once his task was completed his life would end, such is the way for those summoned for task.

  The large, heavy cleaver fell upon the rope that kept tension upon the wound spring.

  Thwack!

  With a rush of sound and motion the device released its energy, all at once directed toward the task of flinging the elven maiden high into the air. As predicted the huge leathery form of the pterodac passed over the fleshy projectile and scooped her out of the air with its talons. By the time the bound figure was contained, the vile beast was already miles away. The Har Karoome ignored the giant knowing that he had to stay with the princess’s steed who was already on the move. He sprinted and used a rock to leap high into the air and land upon the back of the stallion who acted as if the extra weight as well as impact was expected.

  The giant watched him go, wondering how something so small could be so formidable. They weren’t known for massive thought processes or strategies but he understood a good fight when he saw one and he had been sorely over matched by this little being. The thoughts faded from his mind as the rest of his form drifted into the mist until he was to be summoned again. He hung his head sadly, regretful for all of the memories wiped clean from his mind. Yet there remained one memory always. He and all who are like him belong to the cleansing, slaves to the greater purpose, and in that, he had as much faith as he did regret.

  8

  Juil

  It seemed like hours that she lay bound upon a cold cavernous floor. Luckily, they had bound her in a manner where she was able to slowly work a hand around toward her knife sheath and was currently niggling the blade out. It was dark, like she had been delivered into the belly of a mountain…which of course she had. The only sound the hollow ring of emptiness stretching before her.

  The only issue she had for surviving the next few minutes was the rope that bound her, remove that and she would have sustenance as well as protection in the form of elven steel. Keeping her hand on the flat back of the blade, she gently eased it between the ropes, feeling the fine steel cut into the hemp cords. A slight downwards pressure and the ropes were falling away. She quickly scooped a mineral lamp from her hip pouch and rejoiced as its energy filled her hand with warmth and light in this dreary place. She checked her stance and noticed that the pain from wrenching her knee was almost gone.

  It can’t be? Her mind raged when she looked in the direction that she had been brought into this cavern. It was now simply a dead-end wall of solid rock.

  I guess that if there is only one direction to go you had better take it. Her resolve caused her to accept her reality as she was trained to do. The Bone Spires held many mysteries, with landscapes constantly changing; fissures and fractures constantly opening and changing the physical world on a daily basis. It is the only explanation for the existence of the muridai in her opinion, a fissure or tunnel had opened in the natural process of the shifting of the mountains and they emerged. Her and the rest of the elves had discussed it at length, falling upon this hesitantly accepted theory about the muridai. Now she wondered if that were true. Maybe the muridai were an indicator of something bigger, so many question the least of which being ‘what now.’

  How had the giant sealed me off so completely without me seeing it or hearing any sound? It’s like the wall at the end of the tunnel has always been there.

  A portal? she thought and quickly scanned the floor and walls. There aren’t any runes. Then Dyanna’s mocking tone came back to her. ‘You’re still using rune magic?’ the woman had said as if it were cute like something a child would do. There is more than rune magic? Runes are how we touch the earth and use its energy. Runes are how we soar upon the wind and guide the lightening from the sky. She mocks me. Even now as I am lost, she mocks me and laughs at my misfortune as well as my abilities. For all I know she is watching me through some kind of demon sight right now. I will show her how the granddaughter of Lindrow, High King of the Elves gets it done.

  She rolled two separate coils of rope left from her bindings. It wasn’t much, but she had to utilize every resource available and thirty total feet of rope was a viable resource even if it was in two pieces. Juil started off at a brisk pace in the only direction she could go. Even with her mineral lamp tucked away she could tell that this was manufactured tunnel and not one carved by water. This wasn’t the result of glacial melt or flowing water, this had been dug and by the quality of work, she would bet it had been dug by dwarfs.

  She entered into a large chamber filled with swirling drafts of fresh air. She revealed her mineral lamp and tapped it twice to brighten it enough to fill the entire chamber. It was stunning. Shops and businesses lines the ground level, offering all manner of services with signs written in a language that she didn’t recognize. Apartments stretched for the next two stories before ending in what must be a raised foyer or hallway lined with multiple balustrades of thick, dust covered marble. Ornate brickwork of incredible patterns covered the front of some while others were cut and fitted stone or giant carved blocks of granite and brown stone. Giant glass like walls forming the back drop within the shadows, the craftsmanship was astounding and the entire design sublime.

  She was almost to the center of a massive square looking toward the ceiling that hung above her head nearly a half mile away. She spun around while looking up to see balustrades creating safety barriers around massive verandas and walkways on multiple levels. Stone tables and benches looking as if carved from the floor showed where restaurants and ale houses plied their wares and she suddenly had a craving for the mead that Larney, the mix master, was famous for in Lilieack. The very nature of the city screamed of life and easy times, yet it was dead. Its face covered in layers of dust so thick it must have been abandoned for millennia.

  It’s beautiful. This must be the lost dwarf kingdom of Antre Clocher? she wondered. She was enamored with the glory of what this place once was. She wanted to weep, so much death. She looked closer and she could see the stains of death left behind. She didn’t have to be a historian to know that those irregular rust colored splotches on the city’s face was dried blood and the oddly shaped white rocks were remnants of bones. Her eyes then showed her that there wasn’t just fallen rock at the base of the city face.

  ‘The walls; blood stained…the floors, with scattered bones.’ She recalled the poetic chorus to the elven song ‘The Reclaiming Of Noril.’ A song written after the collaborative five liberated themselves from the grasp of the Aerials after the Aerial Wars.

  Was this kingdom alive then, was it too, involved in the ancient wars that freed their sister city Noril? Noril bordered the western side of the Bone Spires and lifelong allies of her people in Lilieack. Noril was started by a delegate from the western reaches which was the oldest elven settlement. Lilieack and Noril were formed immediately after the great wars thousands of years ago by those elves who had fought in the wars after the breaking. Since then they have had only one major skirmish with the aerials and skirmishes in the Spires.

  Those were tumultuous times, this had to have been destroyed during the Angel Wars. She thought of the typical slang for the Aerials, he more she thought about it the more she knew it to be true, unless this actually had been here since the great wars.

  Who else could attack a place like this except people with wings? She shuddered, there weren’t many of them left but she had managed to see one once…from a distance. They were beautiful, and according to the histories they were the evilest and vilest creatures the world has ever known..

  To confirm her thoughts, she spied a giant white feather so large it had to be from a seraph and she smiled inwardly, until she didn’t. It dawned on her almost too late that feathers don’t stay pristine on the floor for thousands of years or even hundreds for that matter; the creature was still here.

  Her terror escalated and she drew her sword with her right hand while keeping the mineral lamp alive in her left. She thought of the drafts she felt when she first entered and she realized that those drafts were no longer on her. They had flown away on the wings of an angel as the elves refer to the seraphs, when light began to fill the chamber.

  Light doesn’t hurt them…what is your game, angel of death, come out into the light and play with me. Her mind hummed as she stepped out into the center of the courtyard still marveling at the feats of architecture when a soft, dry chuckle began to echo through the chamber. It started gently and crescendo’d until Juil could finally pinpoint where it was coming from. She sheathed her sword and pulled the bow from her back notching an arrow.

  “Relax, my dear, you’re in no immediate danger. Come, sit with me a spell, I haven’t had anyone to talk to in a very long time.” His words were sweet and tempting, but the fact that he spoke common tongue was enough to keep in her mind that this was a demon no matter how spectacular he looked on the outside, and he did look quite spectacular. His face looked almost elvish with the exception of a longer beak shaped nose, his skin caught between hues of green and brown surrounding a powerfully muscular form. To call him handsome would be an understatement.

  “No, thank you, I will just be on my way.”

  “I really must insist. We both know the inevitability of the results of this meeting so come and sit with me a spell before.”

  “Before what?”

  “Come now, I don’t want to have to lie to you, not this early in our relationship.” He paused and Juil eased the tension on her bow, keeping the arrow notched. “That’s better, now come up here and I will tell you how Pine Hold will fall within the week, did you bring a bathing suit?”