Valley of the Ancients: Book Three of the Restoration Series (22 page)

Finally, he stepped between the statues and entered the valley. He continued to walk along the river bank. It was a little rocky but there were less bushes and trees to deal with.

Glancing back at the statues, he froze, fighting the urge to scream. The head of the statue that resembled a goblin was now facing him. The body hadn't turned but the head had turned almost completely around to face Flare.

His breathing quickened and he could feel his heart thumping in his chest. Turning around now, he could see that all the statue heads were turned around. Every one was facing him.

His hand instinctively went to his sword hilt but it was foolish reaction. What good was a sword against stone? How could he kill something that wasn't alive?

Still facing the statues, Flare began moving faster into the valley. He kept stumbling but he didn't fall. Once he was thirty or so yards from the statues, he turned and ran.

He didn't stop running until he rounded a bend in the valley and the statues were no longer visible. Gasping for breath, he dropped to his knees, being careful to face back the way he had come. The heads of those statues could move and he sincerely hoped that the rest of the statues' bodies could not.

Soon his breathing slowed and he pushed himself back to his feet. He was covered in sweat and he shivered in the coolness of the morning. Steeling himself, he turned his back on the valley entrance and looked out over the valley.

The valley widened considerably after the narrowness of the opening. The stream still flowed to his right but farther on in he could see a lake. On past the lake, the valley turned again, this time to the right, as it followed the gap between the mountains. The trees and brush were thic ~d wi pak, only the river bank made it easy for him to walk. The ground also revealed an abundance of animal tracks. Some he recognized such as deer and rabbit, and others that he wasn't so sure about.

Strangely, the sight of the animal tracks was relaxing. Whatever the statues were, the animals still thrived with them so close. Perhaps the statues were some sort of guards? But that opened up a whole new list of questions. Were they just keeping people out? If so, why had they let him pass? Was it because of the Order? Did everything relate back to Kelcer? Then something else occurred to him and he started sweating again. Perhaps the guards would let him pass on his way in to the valley but maybe they wouldn't let him pass on the way back out. He tried to ignore that thought. There wasn't the first thing to suggest that the statues would prevent him from leaving, it was just paranoia. They were just as likely to dance a jig as he walked past.

Taking a deep breath, he started forward.

The valley wound its way back into the mountain gap. By midday, Flare had circumvented the lake and rounded the next turn in the valley. He continued to follow the stream as it made for the easiest walking. Several times during the day, he climbed up a tree to try and get a better look, but the scenery never seemed to change; trees, stream, and high mountains on either side.

A couple of times he heard rustling coming from the bushes. Each time Flare drew his sword and waited. He was relieved when the sounds turned out to be nothing more than animals.

Late in the afternoon he realized that he would have to spend the night in the valley. It was not a comforting thought. If the stone statues from the valley entrance could move then what other surprises might the valley hold for him?

He had been looking for a good place to make camp for some time now, when he rounded another turn in the valley. Abruptly, the valley ended against the shear mountain side. Water ran down the side of the mountain forming a beautiful waterfall. The water from the waterfall collected in a small lake at the base of the mountain. From there the stream carried the water on through the valley.

The waterfall was not a constant sheet of water, instead it seemed that the amount of water varied causing brief openings in the falling water. Through these openings he occasionally caught glimpses of the mountain. It was hard to make out, but it looked like a cave entrance.

He sighed deeply. "What am I doing here?" he asked aloud. He had come to this place based solely on Abner's story and while there was definitely something wrong about this place, it didn't mean it was related to Kelcer.

There was a crunching of rocks from right behind him and Flare whipped around. His first thought was of the statues and there was a momentary flood of relief that it wasn't a statue behind him. That relief fled, though, at the horror that stood before him. It was in the general shape of a man but that's where the similarity ended. It was muscular and tall, at least seven feet or so, and covered in thick white hair. Its hands ended in wicked claws and sharp fangs were visible in its mouth. Huge bat like wings opened behind it and it roared a challenge.

Flare stumbled backwards and his left foot sunk into the edge of the stream. His right hand groped over his shoulder for Ossendar and he had partially pulled the blade from its sheath when the monster launched itself at him. It hit him hard in the chest and the blow sent him flying ba ~till It hck into the water and his pack went flying. Several stinging pains erupted in his chest and he knew the beast's claws had cut him and he dearly hoped there wasn't any venom in the claws. More importantly though, Ossendar was knocked from his grasp.

Hitting the frigid water, Flare sunk several feet to the bottom. The creature was on him in a moment and its weight held Flare below the surface of the water.

Flare flailed at his attacker and punched it hard in its stomach. It was like hitting a tree. The creature didn't even seem to notice the blow.

Everything had happened so fast that he hadn't even been able to fill his lungs with air and already his lungs burned with the need to take a breath. Frantically Flare punched the monster in the stomach again but once again his hand bounced off the thick skin. His arm rebounded from the blow and came down across his own belt knife. Elation flowed over him. He had forgotten about the knife or perhaps the fear of drowning had caused him to not think clearly.

The creature was still holding him under the water and he drew the knife awkwardly and jabbed it right into his attacker's stomach. The thick hide turned the knife blow to the side and at best left the creature with a minor cut. Still it bellowed and slammed Flare hard down into the small stones that made up the bottom of the stream river. A spasm of pain ran through his side and he accidentally opened his mouth and sucked in water. Immediately he began coughing and sputtering, which only served to let more water in his lungs.

The knife slipped from his hand as the pointy rocks pushed into his back. With his lungs filling with water and both his knife and sword out of reach, he cast around for any other options. And then it occurred to him. The very thing that he should have thought of from the first.

Though it was difficult, Flare forced his mind to relax. The water in his lungs didn't help, though. Taking control of his spirit, he threw the monster off of him. Immediately the enormous weight of the creature was gone and he shoved himself out of the water. He retched and spit up an unbelievable amount of water. He half crawled, half stumbled out of the stream and retched several more times and he could feel his eyes watering and snot running from his nose.

He wanted nothing more than to lie there on the river bank, even if his feet and legs were still dangling in the ice cold water, but he knew he couldn't.

He forced his gaze upwards just as the winged creature landed on the bank. He wasn't sure how far he had thrown the beast but it didn't look seriously wounded. It charged at him without hesitation. This time he was ready though. He was still in control of his spirit and he seized two rocks, both about twice the size of a man's head, and heaved them at the beast. Both rocks hit the creature from behind, one stone hitting it high on the back and the second hitting low near its waist.

The beast was flung forward and landed hard in the water several feet to Flare's left. Even though it was so close, Flare didn't move. He was exhausted and half drowned. He didn't have the energy to move and he was afraid that if he did try and run then he would lose control of his spirit. And his spirit was the only thing keeping him alive right now.

The monster began pushing itself back up but he didn't give it the chance. Instead, he used the two stones and pounded the creature's head and back. After the first two blows the creature collapsed back to the ground but Flare didn't stop. He continued to pound the creature until he lost count of ~ heihalthe number of times the stones rose and fell.

After a moment, he realized the creature was dead. The sound of its bones breaking under the repeated blows from the stones was the first clue. The enormous deep red blood slick was the second.

Dropping the stones, he crawled the rest of the way out of the stream and stood on the bank shivering. He couldn't recall ever hearing of a creature like this and he thanked the gods above that he was still alive.

With the stones no longer holding it in place, the monster's corpse started to slowly float away. It bobbed back and forth as it slowly drifted farther downstream.

Flare looked up and realized that the sun was already behind the mountains. It would be dark before long and that would mean it was going to get cold fast.

As the shadows deepened, he spent several precious moments studying the cliff face way up above his head. He wondered if perhaps there were more of the creatures living high up in the cliffs.

He was shivering uncontrollably now and realized it didn't matter if there were more of the beasts around. He had to start a fire and quick, or the cold would kill him.

He awoke the next morning cold and stiff. His makeshift camp was in a small hollow that the bushes almost completely covered. It was awful close to the spot where he had been attacked yesterday, but it was the best he had been able to find in the failing light last night. He had slung his wet clothes on the bushes that covered the small low section of ground. This had two advantages. First, the small fire was hopefully blocked from view by the clothes. If there were any more of the creatures flying around, then Flare didn't want to make it easy for them to find him. Also, the clothes helped keep the heat from escaping. That was particularly helpful as it was so cold up here in the mountains.

Luckily his pack had not landed in the water but instead had landed along the river bank. At least he had a dry blanket and his small supply of food had not gotten wet.

He ate a hard biscuit while he peaked out between the pokey bush limbs. With any luck, well, good luck that is, he would hopefully get some answers about this valley today.

It was still early morning and dew still covered the ground. He glanced at the stream but the body of his attacker was nowhere to be seen. Either it had floated on down the stream or something had taken it. That made him nervous. Anything capable of carrying the heavy body away, would have to be dangerous.

Turning his attention the other way, Flare studied the waterfall. It looked exactly as it had yesterday. Occasionally he caught glimpses of the rock wall behind it and what appeared to be a cave opening.

He sighed deeply. He would have to cross the river as the cave appeared to be more toward the far side of the waterfall. The river didn't appear to be that deep and he should be able to cross it without too many issues, but he dreaded the idea of re-entering the frigid water.

He reached out and touched his clothes. They were mostly dry due to his fire, but the dew had covered them in a light covering of moisture.

Finishing his biscuit, Flare stood up and began rolling up his partially dry clothes. Wasn't any reason to put them back on. They would just get soaked again when he crossed the river or in the water mist n ~ullepartiear the waterfall. He put his food in the pack first, slightly alarmed at how meager his rations were. It wouldn't be long before he would need to start hunting and that would slow him down considerably.

On top of the food Flare placed his blanket. It was drier than his clothes. Finally, he rolled up his damp clothes and placed them in the pack. Then he closed the pack's flap and tied it down tight. With any luck the clothes wouldn't get any more wet than they already were. When he emerged from the cave later today, he could put the clothes back on and they should finish drying in the sun. The only problem was that he didn't relish the idea of running into any more of those creatures and having to fight them completely naked.

He also tied his boots to the top of the pack. They would get damp from the waterfall mist but if he wore them they would be completely soaked from crossing the river.

With everything packed and ready to go, he pushed his way through the bushes, muttering curses as the thorny plants found touchy areas of his body. Once he was free of the bushes, he strapped Ossendar to his back.

When he reached the riverbank, he stopped and looked around. He guessed the sun had been up for maybe a couple of hours, but it was still blocked from view by the surrounding mountains.

He shivered once more in the morning chill and sighed at the thought of the frigid water. Wanting to get this over with as soon as possible, he started forward.

Despite his desire to cross the river as quickly as he could, Flare moved slowly and cautiously through the ice cold water. The riverbed was covered in rocks of all sizes. Most of them were smooth without any sharp edges or points. Still, he took his time getting across. In addition to being smooth, the stones were also extremely slick and he was barefoot.

There was another reason that he moved slowly besides safety. The water was breathtakingly cold. He could see the snow on the mountain peaks and knew this had to be runoff from where the snow melted on the mountain side. It wasn't just cold it was painful. He had to inch his way into the water and every time the water touched a dry part of his skin it was like a searing cold burned into him.

At the deepest point, the river came up to Flare's chest but with the rushing of the water even his face got wet. He nearly cried in happiness when he realized the river was getting shallower.