Demonkin (34 page)

“It is clear outside,” announced the fairy as he landed on Karicon’s shoulder.

Karicon stepped forward to open the door, but another dwarf moved quicker. The speedy dwarf opened the door just a crack and then closed it.

“No noise,” he announced. “That settles that.”

Karicon stood staring at the door in dismay. The door had not opened far enough for anyone to get through. “Maybe it makes noise when it is opened wider.”

“Nonsense,” groused the speedy dwarf. “If it was to make a noise, it would do it when it first opens. Tell your friend not to worry about such things.”

Karicon was shattered. Morro was stuck in the mystery valley and the dwarf could not let him in without causing a gigantic furor. He knew the dwarves at the door could not be talked into opening it again. He would have to get the king’s permission for them to do so. He turned around and walked through the tunnels in despair.

“Morro said he would be in your chamber,” offered the fairy.

“The door was not opened enough for him to get in,” the dwarf replied sadly. “I will have to go to King Drakarik and explain what has happened. He will not be pleased.”

“So he gets mad,” shrugged the fairy. “At least Morro will be safe.”

“Aye,” replied the dwarf. “He will be safe, but not in Tarashin. The king will demand that he leave. I don’t imagine that Garth Shado will be too pleased either.”

“You might be wrong there,” brightened the fairy. “Morro and I have mapped the entire mystery valley.”

“That’s good,” the dwarf replied without excitement. “I will leave you in my chamber. Your presence will probably anger the king when I tell him where you two have been.”

Karicon turned the corner and opened the door to his chamber. His eyes grew large and a broad smile split his face when he saw the elf sitting on the low table. “How?”

“It wasn’t easy,” chuckled the elf. “That large dwarf didn’t open the door far enough. I had to force it open some more, and the dwarf almost toppled over. He was leaning on the door. Then I had to bring it closed again to where he was standing originally. We have to think of a better way to open the door the next time.”

“The next time?” balked the dwarf. “There will be no next time.”

“Two more times, actually,” grinned the elf.

“No,” declared the dwarf. “Never again. You are staying put in Tarashin, or I will report you to the king myself.”

“No one knows that we were gone, Morro,” interjected the fairy. “Karicon has been covering for us.”

“Close the door and look at my map,” Morro said to the dwarf. “Let me show you how much we learned out there.”

The dwarf sighed and closed the door. He walked over to the small table and sat on it. Morro handed him the map, and the dwarf studied it.

“What are these doors?” asked the dwarf.

“They are magical portals,” answered the elf. “The twenty-four Doors that are upright lead to Alcea.”

“Alcea?” questioned Karicon. “Do you mean you merely step through them to another land?”

“That is exactly what I mean. They have set the Doors up with three leagues between them to allow for huge armies to assemble before going through them. The only variation is in the middle of the valley. There is an additional stretch of three leagues where the army encampments are. On the west side of the valley they have about a thousand men. On the eastern side are the remaining nine thousand and the black-cloaks. They are clustered around the tunnel entrance.”

“What are these numbers here?” the dwarf asked as he pointed to Door number twenty-four.

“There were originally thirty pairs of Doors ordered. Those are the unused six pairs of Doors. They are just sitting in a pile.”

“We must send Sparky to Garth right away,” the dwarf said excitedly. “This is important.”

“Sparky is not leaving me,” Morro declared. “We are partners.”

“Then the king can send Pebble,” shrugged the dwarf. “It doesn’t really matter.”

“Pebble will do fine,” Morro smiled thinly, “but not just yet. I need you to do me a favor first.”

Karicon frowned with suspicion. “You are not going back into the valley,” he stated firmly.

“Only twice more,” smiled Morro.

“No.” the dwarf stamped his foot for effect. “I will not allow it.”

“Karicon,” pleaded the elf, “you would not let me go the last time, and look at the wealth of information we have gained because Sparky and I did go.”

“You are very fortunate to have returned alive,” retorted the dwarf. “Besides, we now know all there is to know about the mystery valley. There is no reason for you to go again.”

“There is a great reason for me to return there,” countered the elf. “I must go back, and I need your help to do it. Will you listen?”

“No.” The dwarf shook his head adamantly. “You are not going. You will die, and I will never see you again. I will not be a part of that.”

“I am going,” declared Morro. “If you help me, you will see me again. If you do not help me, I will be stuck in Alcea.”

“Alcea?” frowned Karicon. “What are you talking about?”

“I  am going through one of the Doors,” stated the elf.

“You can’t be serious,” gasped Karicon. “That is foolish. Why would you do such a thing?”

“All access to Alcea has been shut off,” explained the elf. “The fairies used to hide on the Federation ships and carry messages back and forth, but no ships are sailing for Alcea any more. They only way to get there is through a Door. Alcea needs to know what is happening here, Karicon, and they need to know about the mystery valley. I need your help in coming back to Tarashin.”

“How can you come back?” asked the dwarf.

“I plan to steal two of their Doors,” grinned the elven thief. “I want you to keep one here in your chamber. The other one I am taking through Door number twenty-four to Mya, a city in Alcea. I am planning on opening a portal from Alcea right into this room, Karicon. I need your help.”

Karicon sat and stared at the map for a few moments. He sighed deeply and shook his head, but Morro did not interrupt.

“We need to tell King Drakarik about this,” declared the dwarf. “He will know what to do.”

“King Drakarik will do two things,” stated the elf. “He will prohibit me from going, and he will send Pebble to Garth Shado, who will prohibit me from going.”

“Perhaps they are right. Maybe you should not go. It is too dangerous, and they will both see that.”

“They do not know of my capabilities,” Morro said vaguely.

“You mean the hourglass?” asked Karicon.

Morro’s eyes narrowed. He saw the dwarf glance at Sparky and the elf followed his gaze. Sparky was bright green and he avoided the elf’s gaze.

“Can I trust no one?” sighed the elf.

“I didn’t mean to tell him,” apologized the fairy. “I was worried about you in the valley, and it just slipped out. I am really sorry.”

Morro returned his gaze to the dwarf. “You must promise that you will tell no one about the hourglass. Promise.”

“I promise,” the dwarf vowed. “Why is it such a secret?”

“I do not know if it can be counteracted with magic,” answered the elf. “I only revealed it to Sparky because I had to. Now you know. Word of such marvels travel all too quickly for my taste. I need to be able to depend on it working flawlessly. That means keeping it a secret.”

“So you will not tell the king or Garth Shado? Surely, you trust them?”

“I do trust them,” conceded the elf, “but who will they inadvertently tell it to? I will not take those chances. I can leave Tarashin through the secret door any time I want, Karicon. It is getting in that requires your help. Taking a Door to Alcea does no good if there is not a matching Door here in a safe place. To get a Door in here, I need your help. Will you help me?”

“I do not think I can get my fellow dwarves to open the door again,” replied Karicon. “Not even once. Never mind three times.”

“You only have to do it once,” replied the elf. “As I said, I can get myself out. Are you in?”

“He is going to do it with or without your help, Karicon,” said Sparky. “Why not let him do it right?”

The dwarf looked at the fairy and then at the elf. He shook his head. “You are both crazy. What excuse can I use to get the secret door open?”

“I could create an image of something to distract the other dwarves,” offered the fairy.

“The secret door is soundless,” mused the dwarf. “Could you create an image of the closed door if I really had it open?”

“I could create the image,” frowned the fairy, “but the light would shine right through it. There are torches right near the door, and daylight would shine through when the door was opened. It would not be believable.”

“What if it was nighttime?” asked Morro.

“And the torches near the door were extinguished?” questioned Karicon.

“I don’t know,” answered the fairy. “It might work, but it is rather risky. It would be much easier to project an image of you being there than one that removes you. That would be easy and believable.”

“Would they allow the king to open the door?” asked Morro.

“No!” gasped the dwarf. “I mean, yes, they would, but you can’t be serious? The king would find out, and we would all be kicked out of Tarashin. Or worse. I don’t even want to think about it.”

“Well,” smiled Morro, “you have time to think about it. I will nap until sunset and then go get the Door.”

“Oh, no,” the dwarf shook his head vigorously.

“I am going to leave this map of the valley with you. Sparky has already memorized it to show the Alceans. If I do not come back, see that Garth Shado gets it.” Karicon opened his mouth to protest the statement about not coming back, but the elf raised his hand to forestall the protest. “We will also need a code for the Door. I think three knocks followed by two knocks followed by three knocks again.”

“What are you talking about?” asked the dwarf. “You have lost me.”

“The Doors have keys,” explained the elf. “You can lock it so no one on the other side can open it. The series of knocks are to tell you that it is me wanting to come through. You will need to unlock the Door to permit me to open it.”

“What if I am not here when you want to come through?”

“You are here every night,” replied the elf. “You will be here.”

Karicon carried the keg of ale to the northernmost part of the mine. Broad dwarven grins noted his arrival.

“I found another stray keg,” grinned Karicon. “Does anyone have a use for it?”

Howls of laughter ripped through the dozen dwarves gathered in the large chamber near the secret door.

“There is only one use for a keg of ale,” quipped one of the dwarves.

“Use it to sit on?” joked another dwarf.

“What is up with the ale tonight, Karicon?” asked a third dwarf. “Is it the king’s birthday or something?”

“I am just cleaning out an old storeroom,” Karicon replied. “The ale might be quite old.”

“The last keg you brought was fine by me,” a heavy dwarf replied. “Bring that one over here, and I will sample it for my brothers.”

More laughter filled the room, and Karicon carried the keg to the heavy dwarf who had requested it. He handed it to the dwarf and backed away towards the secret door. The heavy dwarf grinned broadly as he opened the keg, but his grin faded rapidly. A foul stench emanated from the open keg, and the dwarves recoiled from it.

“Close that keg back up,” scowled one of the dwarves. “I think something died in it.”

“That is foul,” another dwarf commented as he brought his arm over his nose. “That’s enough to make you gag.”

“You’re stinking up the whole place,” complained another dwarf. “Get that thing out of here.”

Karicon swiftly opened the secret door. Several of the dwarves saw him and called in protest. Karicon immediately closed the door again.

“Never open that door,” admonished one of the dwarves. “You could have given away our secret.”

“It was only for a second,” Karicon said apologetically. “I couldn’t breathe for the stench of that keg. What foul stuff is in there?”

“You brought it to us,” retorted one of the dwarves. “Get it out of here.”

Karicon moved quickly across the chamber and picked up the keg. He made a show of holding it at arms length and turning his head away from it as he hurried out of the chamber. He heard curses mixed with laughter as he fled from the chamber, but the attention of the dwarves in the chamber seemed to be focused on the smell and not his error of opening the door. Karicon smiled inwardly. He moved swiftly through the corridors until he reached his chamber. He set the foul keg on the floor and opened the door to his chamber. He smiled as he saw Morro inside with a wooden door. He entered the chamber and closed the door.

“You did well,” smiled Morro. “There is a key tied to the edge of the Door. Lock the Door and keep the key safe. You will also need to support this door somehow so it can be opened when the time comes.”

“I can take care of that,” promised the dwarf. “The first thing I have to do is get rid of that stinking keg outside. When are you leaving?”

“Right away,” answered the elf. “There is no reason to delay, and your fellow dwarves are already foggy from ale.”

“Where is Sparky?”

“He is in the valley waiting for me.”

“Then this is goodbye,” the dwarf said sadly. “I never thought I would be close friends with an elf, but I will miss you. I fear that I will never see you again.”

“You will not get rid of this elf so easily,” chuckled Morro. “I will be back.”

Without further words, Morro turned and exited the chamber. He walked slowly through the corridors, keeping an eye on the hourglass. When the sands were restored, he triggered the device and began running. He reached the secret door and opened it. He stepped through the door into the dark valley and shoved the door closed. He turned and ran as fast as he could, again keeping an eye on the hourglass. When the sands were almost completely done, he slowed down and looked for a tall tree. He found one easily, and he scampered up to rest on a solid branch. Almost immediately, the sounds of the night filled the forest.

The elf sat in the tree for a while, listening for the sounds of human activity. There were none. Morro climbed down and moved stealthily towards the area where Door number twenty-four was erected. An hour later, he reached the area of the forest bordering the field. Sparky glided through the air and landed on his shoulder.