Valorian (9 page)

He shifted his weight in the saddle, silently signaling Hunnul with his toes. The stallion automatically backed up several steps until they were within the tunnel again. The gorthlings behind them hooted with laughter.

"You've seen your fate, mortal," one shouted. "What's the matter? Are you scared?" Their crude, harsh laughter made Hunnul flatten his ears.

Valorian disregarded their noise, thankful that the creatures were hanging back for the moment.

They were probably, waiting to see what the clansman with the magic powers was going to do. In the cavern, the other gorthlings were almost to the tunnel entrance.

Valorian leaned forward and said quietly, "Hunnul, you have seen the power Lady Amara gave me. I intend to use it now, but I also need your help." He scratched the stal ion's mane in his favorite place until Hunnul arched his neck and his ears came up. "You'll have to trust me."

"Trust me!" the gorthling mimicked snidely. "Don't bother, dog food. This man wil only dump you in the stew."

The stallion tossed his head angrily.

Valorian was thoroughly sick of his little prisoner, but he needed it for just a while longer. He shot a look back at the gorthlings behind them, then at the gnarled faces peering around the edges of the tunnel entrance. It was time to move while the creatures were stil hesitating. Swiftly he clamped the gorthling between his knee and the saddle leather to free his hands. Then he pictured in his mind what he wanted to do and dug his heels into the stallion's ribs.

Hunnul obeyed without hesitation. He took four running steps forward and with a mighty heave of his powerful haunches, he leaped off the edge into space. . . and abruptly dropped. Instantly the sucking winds of the tornado caught at the horse and man and pul ed them with sickening speed toward its burning funnel.

Valorian's mind went blank with terror. The magic hadn't worked even with the gorthling, and now they were plummeting uncontrollably into the whirlwind. Already he could feel the heat scorching his skin and the winds tearing at his body. Hunnul struggled frantically beneath him, but all Valorian could see was the whirlwind filling his sight with its horror.

Under his knee, the gorthling squirmed to get out. "You failed, mortal!" it cried over the thunder of the winds. "There's a thought for eternity!"

Failed! The word struck Valorian like a whiplash. He had never liked to fail, and he was about to spend forever in agony, having failed his family, himself, and his goddess. The realization jerked his head up and his eyes away from the whirlwind. "Think!" he cried to himself. He couldn't have more than a few moments left.

The magic hadn't failed, he suddenly realized.
He
had. It wasn't enough to simply imagine that his horse could jump a mighty chasm, he had to be more exact. He had to decide how Hunnul was going to jump that distance, then channel his magic into making that happen.

Valorian didn't waste another second. With the whirlwind roaring in his ears and the swirling fires burning his skin, he remembered the great wind like an unseen hand that had carried him and Hunnul to the plain of stone. Desperately he held that memory in his mind, concentrated on exactly what he wanted, and formed his spel .

The spell was faltering and clumsy, but the magic, enhanced by the gorthling's touch, surged through Valorian, and this time it worked. Wind from the tornado itself formed an invisible platform beneath the stal ion's body. Their descent began to slow against the relentless pul of the funnel, and just as Hunnul's hooves skimmed the uppermost ring of fire, the horse and his rider began to rise. The stallion's legs instinctively moved into a galloping motion, his hooves plunging through the hot air.

Valorian, his jaw clenched with his effort to force the magic power to his bidding, slowly raised his palms toward the ceiling and lifted the horse higher and higher above the ferocious winds.

The gorthlings flew into shrieking fits of rage. Some hurled stones from the tunnel's mouth, while others scampered upside down along the ceiling and threw broken stalactites at him, but their efforts were useless. Swifter than an eagle, the black stal ion soared through the hot air toward the center stalactite.

Valorian braced himself in the saddle. He could feel the gorthling squirm under his knee, and he prayed its touch would enhance his powers enough to do one more thing.

He raised his hand. More magic gathered at his command until it surged through every fiber of his being. They were nearing the stalactite when he fired a blazing bolt of energy that seared through the air to the base of the stone and exploded in a shower of blue sparks. A crack as loud as thunder shot over the roar of the funnel. The stalactite shattered in an explosion of fragments, and its precious burden started to plummet toward the bottomless chasm in the heart of the whirling winds and fires.

Hunnul stretched out his neck and his legs; his nostrils flared, and his tail flew like a storm-whipped banner. Valorian reached out frantically. He caught the crown of Amara with one hand just as it dropped by Hunnul's head. His breath went out in one great gasp. His relief was so strong, his concentration faltered, almost tumbling Hunnul sideways. But with the glowing golden crown held tightly to his chest, Valorian strengthened the supporting wind beneath Hunnul's feet and pressed his heels into the horse's sides.

The black steed responded with al his heart. His hooves' dug into the invisible wind and went racing over the bottomless chasm toward the distant wall. The gorthlings yelled in fury and chased him along the cavern roof, but it was too late. With the wind at his heels, the stallion galloped the long distance to the far wall and reached it unscathed.

Carefully Valorian ended his spell just as Hunnul's feet touched down on solid stone at the mouth of the second opening. The horse bounded forward into the passage onto a trail sloping upward and quickly left the noise and light of the cavern behind.

The tunnel was totally black, yet Valorian didn't waste his strength on a light. Instead, he held the crown above his head and let its radiance light their way. It was no great surprise to see that this path was much like the other--lightless, twisting, and steeply sloped. There could be gorthlings watching the passage, too. That thought made Valorian queasy. He'd had enough of gorthlings and had no wish to be caught now. He and Hunnul had come too far to lose their prize.

The gorthling under his thigh finally wiggled its head free. "You'll suffer for this," it howled at him.

"We'll flay you alive for a thousand years and make you wish every second of eternity that you had never heard Amara's name!"

Valorian refused to reply. He tuned his senses ahead and behind to listen for any sign of pursuit. He knew the vicious little gorthlings wouldn't let him go without a fight. For the moment, though, he could hear nothing.

Hunnul was cantering now as fast as he could go in the zigzagging tunnel on the rising slope.

Because he knew roughly what to expect in the passages, he was able to move faster through the twists and turns and dark hal s.

But even Hunnul's agile speed wasn't enough. Al too soon Valorian heard what he feared—a screeching, yowling pack of gorthlings coming up the tunnel behind them. He bent low over Hunnul's mane, held tightly to the crown, and prayed that the stallion wouldn't fall, that there were no lava rivers with narrow ledges, and that there were no gorthlings on the trail ahead. The cries of the creatures behind him grew louder.

Hunnul continued to run, his legs thrusting forward, his hooves pounding on the stone path, his head rising and falling with the rhythm of his flight. Black against the deep shadows, he careered through the tunnel ahead of the gorthlings, trusting his master to guide him.

Then, before man or horse realized what had happened, the trail abruptly leveled out and came to a sudden dead end before a black wal of stone. Hunnul skidded to a wild-eyed stop.

"What's this?" Valorian cried frantically to his captive. "Where's the tunnel?"

The gorthling chortled. "It's the entrance, you moron, and it's locked. This tunnel is shorter than the others."

The noise of the pursuers was almost upon them when the clansman raised his hand. He didn't have time to question the gorthling any further or stop to look for some means to open the door. He and Hunnul had to get out now! His power, strengthened by the gorthling's contact, burst from his hand and exploded on the wal before him. The rock exploded outward, opening the entrance in a cascade of blue sparks and flying rock.

Hunnul stumbled out through the shattered door into the bright light. Blinded by the sudden glare, Valorian fumbled for the creature he held under his knee. He could hear the other gorthlings running up the passage and shrieking, and he knew he couldn't let them loose in the realm of the dead.

Desperately he yanked the gold armband off the gorthling's neck, turned, and hurled the creature as hard as he could toward the opening. Almost in the same movement, he fired a second bolt of magic into the rock above the door just as the gorthling pack appeared at the entrance. The burst was weaker than before, but it was enough to bring down a massive chunk of rock that sealed the opening shut with stone, gravel, and dirt. The enraged gorthlings vanished behind the tumbling rock.

Bit by bit the stone settled into place, and the mountain returned to silence. Valorian's eyesight adjusted enough to see the ground, so he dismounted and leaned for a moment against Hunnul's heaving sides. The stal ion blew out his breath with a loud snort.

Valorian tried to laugh in a wave of overwhelming relief, but he could barely chuckle. Without the gorthling to sustain his strength, the heavy, unaccustomed use of magic had left him completely exhausted. Too tired to even stand, he sagged slowly to the ground and sat by the stal ion's front feet.

The golden crown hung heavy in his hands.

He stared at the crown as if seeing it for the first time. In the pure light of the sacred peak, the diadem's own radiance was as clear and golden as the dawn and as warm as the summer sun. It had four pointed rays on its front, each set with a large gem of a different shade to represent the four seasons, and its heavy rim was ornately decorated with intertwined rays of silver and vines of gold. It was a crown worthy of Amara.

Valorian was leaning forward, staring at the crown, when another glorious light illuminated the mountainside. He looked up to see four shining figures standing before him: the Clan deities Surgart, Sorh, Keath, and Amara. He knew in his heart who they were without a word being spoken, and he fel prostrate in awe.

The four deities gazed down on him, their faces benign. "You have chosen well, Sister," he heard Sorh say to Amara.

"Do we go ahead with our plan?" she asked.

Valorian jerked slightly in surprise.
Plan? What were they talking about?

Surgart nodded. "Yes. . . it is time."

"Very wel ." The mother goddess leaned over and picked up her shining crown. "Thank you, Valorian, for your courage. Your deed has won my eternal gratitude. I wish to reward you for your unselfishness and determination. Is there any boon you desire?"

The clansman slowly climbed to his feet. "I would wish something for my people." He lifted his eyes to the goddess.

"Help them find a new home somewhere where they can flourish."

A deep smile of satisfaction spread over Amara's lovely face. She nodded once.

A deafening, shattering clap of thunder split Valorian's world. The realm of the dead, the gods and goddesses, the peak of Ealgoden al vanished, and the man tumbled down into darkness. He cried out once and knew no more.

Somewhere nearby a bird was warbling a song. Its lilting notes lifted on the wings of the wind and mingled with the subtler rhythms of falling water in a distant stream and the sway of evergreen trees.

The gentle sounds were familiar and comforting to the clansman as he lay motionless, still swathed in the darkness of his mind. He listened to the natural music for a long time while his consciousness gradual y awakened and his other senses returned.

After a while, he became aware of other feelings he hadn't noticed before: the cold of the stone beneath his stomach, the heavy, damp weight of his clothes, the unexpected warmth of sunshine on the side of his face. Very carefully he opened his eyes. Dark storm clouds filled the sky to the south, the direction he was facing, but to the west, the sky was clearing and the blessed sun was shining. The days of rain were finally over. And, praise the gods, there was Hunnul grazing on a patch of grass nearby.

Valorian managed a weak smile before he tried to sit up. Then his smile turned to a groan and he sagged back onto the wet ground, almost blinded by a severe pain that rocked his head. Nausea settled like a cold, squirming thing in his stomach. The rest of his body felt stiff, as weak as a newborn, and achy in every joint. Strangest of all, he felt very warm inside. Not feverish, just hot.

What's happened to me?
he wondered. He lay still again to let the pain subside while he tried to revive his memory. He remembered searching for the mountain pass, and he remembered coming up the ridge to see the range of peaks. Everything after that was extremely hazy. There had been rain and thunder, and then something had happened. He clenched his fists in an effort to remember, but he couldn't recall what had occurred or why he should be lying there feeling as if he had just fallen down the mountainside.

The oddest visions passed through his head. . . Harbingers and goddesses. . . the realm of the dead.

. . Ealgoden . . . gorthlings . . . and clearest of all, a golden crown that gleamed with the light of the sun.

Yet the images were unfocused and jumbled together. None of them made sense. If he had truly died, then what was he doing stil lying on the top of the ridge? The visions had to be a dream, and a bad one at that.

The ache in his head had eased somewhat, so Valorian tried to sit up once more. This time he managed to make it to an upright position. He propped his head in his hands. It was then that he realized his helmet and his cloak were missing.