Longing Ring

32

The thing was not in his head yet. He curled up in his bed The small sounds of his parents’ whispers, sometimes soothing, sometimes surprised and harsh, crawled into his ears like spiders.

"It says it can keep us safe,” said his mother.

"We can't…, " protested his father, then faltered "No one need know. It has promised it won't cause J'role harm It just wants us to give it a place to live."

His father did not answer.

Garlthik set the torch in a sconce and joined J'role in digging through the pile of stones.

For two hours they toiled to remove the upper layer of stones, rested a bit, and then set about their task again. Another two hours passed, and for J'role, the world above no longer mattered. He had no thought of either Releana or the dwarfs or the elves or the orks. All that mattered was getting through thee stones to what waited beyond.

His hands became raw with pain, his blood streaking the stones. J'role noticed, but did not stop.

They worked and worked until they could see a door, pressed tightly shut by the weight of the stones on the other side. Garlthik gave J’role a sly look and re-doubled his efforts.

When they'd finally removed most of the stones, J'role thought he heard something from behind the door. He listened carefully, but heard no other sound. Then he felt the creature sliding about in his mind, and decided he had confused the sensation of the creature with his other senses.

They rolled back the remaining stones, and the door stood naked before them.

"Hold," Garlthik said, and he approached the door, examining it carefully; the handle, the frames; the latch … Placing one hand on the doorknob, he drew his sword with the other. "Take the torch," the ork said. J'role did so, holding it high alongside Garlthik.

The ork turned the knob, but the door frame had been bent by the pressure of the stones, and it took several yanks to even loosen it. Garlthik opened it slowly, for the door would not move any faster. As he pried it open with a steady creak, torch light spilled into the room, revealing the shimmer of gold and silver. The light danced across their grinning faces as Garlthik and J'role stepped into the room and saw a treasure trove of jewel-encrusted boxes and silver statues piled high; swords with fiery red blades and buckets stuffed with gold coins.

Seeing something shift from behind the pile of treasure, J'role raised his head and beheld a horrible white shape climbing over the top of the glitter, sending a small avalanche of gold skittering to the floor. The thing's body was broad and fat, something like a giant larvae, except that it had countless human arms, small arms, like the arms of children, growing from its sides. It used the arms to crawl to the top of the treasure, then sat looking down at J'role and Garlthik with large milky-white eyes. Its mouth was a huge mandible that opened and closed, opened and closed, dripping a thick, clear liquid.

When it spoke, it startled J'role and Garlthik, for it seemed impossible that such a thing would be capable of speech.

"J'role, J'role," it said. "I am so happy you have come." And as the thing spoke, J'role felt the same words crawling about in his head.

The creature on top of the pile of treasure said, "You don't know how fortunate I felt when you became a seeker of this city, J'role. I have been trapped here for so, so many years. I thought, ‘Here is my chance for freedom.’"

Garlthik looked down at J'role, confused, but said nothing.

J'role could do nothing but stare at the creature. He could not imagine that this bloated monster was the thing in his head.

"Oh yes. Oh, yes. I've been feeding all this time. Your pain and the pain you have caused others has been quite tasty.” The creature open and shut it mandibles, and thick spittle dribbled down onto the treasure. “I have o say, you’ve lasted longer than the others.”

“Others?” J'role thought.

“Others,” the creature said sadly. "Usually the child will commit suicide long before now.

Then I — my thoughts- wander the world, looking for other suitable parents who will make a deal. You'd be surprised how many there are … Well, no, I suppose you wouldn't." The creature laughed, and its bloated body quivered. "I kept waiting for you to finish yourself off and free me … But then you put the ring on, and I realized you might be able to find me, so I encouraged you when I could. I gave you my memories of the city to goad you on. Then you were so tiresome at times that I decided to make you kill yourself after all and take my chances with someone else. But now I am so proud of you.

Of course, I seldom ever get to actually consume my victims."

The creature's small hands scrambled forward over the pile of treasure. When enough of its body hung out over the top, it slid down, pouring toward Garlthik and J'role. The two of them split off to the left and right as the thing slithered across the ground between them. It was as high as J'role, and snapped at his thigh as it rushed by. In his fear, J'role dropped the torch and scrambled up onto a pile of treasure.

Garlthik swung his sword at the creature, but his blade bounced off, leaving no more than a scratch on what seemed to be a chitinous skin. "Grab a blade, boy!" Garlthik called.

"We've got to-!" He stopped as the creature turned on him and snapped its mandibles at the ork's arms.

J 'role looked about at the many weapons dotting the treasure room. He spotted a sword, grabbed it by the pommel, and drew it out from a pile of gold. The metal was cold and the sword heavy in his hands, but he raised it high and rushed toward the creature. A feverish heat passed through his flesh now. Not only did he want to save Garlthik and prove his worth to the ork, but it was also the chance to kill the thing that had caused him so much torment.

The creature's back was to him, and he felt the thief magic pouring through his body as he rushed forward. Just as he began to swing the blade down, the creature reared up, pulling his head around to face J'role and grabbing J'role's arms with several of the arms growing from its body. The small hands felt moist and rotted, and a foul odor rushed out of the creature's mouth as it spoke, "No surprises from you, J'role. You and I are too close."

The creature laughed, then gave out a horrible shriek. J'role looked past the creature's face and saw Garlthik pulling his sword out of the creature's back; the blade dripped a thick white liquid.

The creature threw J'role away, sending bits of treasure scattering around him. J'role grabbed his blade and rushed back at the creature, who now had Garlthik pressed against the wall. His attack turned the creature, and Garlthik was free.

The two of them kept up this tactic for a long time, attacking from one side and then the other. But the creature seemed to possess limitless energy, and the fight wore much more heavily on Garlthik and J'role.

Finally the creature turned and caught J'role by surprise. Its mandibles snapped down on his arm, snapping the bone in two. For a second J’role saw only a white void, then an incredible pain coursed through his arm, numbing all his ability to take action. He staggered backward, dropping his sword, and fell to the ground.

Garlthik, breathing heavily, looked at J'role, then at the creature. Then he said to the creature, "I leave him to you, if you will let me be."

As he cradled his broken arm against his chest, a sob rose up in J'role's throat.

"I'll have you any way I want," the creature answered. "I have no need to bargain with you."

Garlthik gave out a cry and started swinging his sword wildly, showering the creature with blows, driving it back across the room.

A trick, J'role thought, trying to convince himself. Garlthik had attempted a ruse to throw the creature off guard. But it was to no avail. The creature charged forward into Garlthik, biting at his mid-section. The ork gave a terrible scream as blood sprayed across the walls and the treasure. He dropped his sword and collapsed to the floor. As the creature tossed Garlthik against the walk J'role saw a huge dark hole in Garlthik's body.

Slowly the thing turned toward; J'role. "Alone again," it said, both in the room and in J'role's thoughts. "Have you ever noticed how alone you are? Even the people you come to depend on leave you in the end." It began to crawl toward him, the arms pushing it along the floor. It moved slowly, wary of any quick motion on J'role's part.

J'role felt the pressure of tears against his eyes as the terrible thing got closer. Hadn't everything been getting better? Wasn't he finally going to be free?

"I want you dead so very, very much. You can understand that, can't you? It's time for you to take your life. Do you understand? After all-this time, your death will be the most remarkable …" The creature did not finish its words, but purred instead.

J'role was paralyzed with fear, terrified of dying, but wishing it would be all over once and for all. He could not bear the thought of what would happen to him next if he left the chamber. He thought, "I don't want to die."

"Oh, I think you do. Think on these things …"

Memories rushed into J’role’s thoughts, every horrible thing that had happened since the creature had arrived as a white shadow in the kaer years and years earlier. The whispers at night. The ritual in which his mother had put the thing in him. His mother's insanity.

The stoning. His father's drinking.

The memories seared his thoughts. They crashed into his senses, alive as if he were living them all at that moment. H couldn't stand the pain.

"One more memory for you, boy," the creature said. "I kept this one deep, just for this occasion."

J'role is in bed s mother is performing the ritual, touching her fingertips against his chest.

J'role is frightened. He feels the thing entering his head.

His father stands beside the bed. His father?

"Must we do this?" he asks.

"We've already been through all that," she replies.

"But our son …"

"Will be safe. We'll all be safe."

J'role came out of the memory. Gasping for air. He wanted to scream. He wanted to die.

I'm sorry, his father had said all his life.

It wasn't just his mother. His father knew. His father did nothing. How could his father have done nothing?

All his pity for his father a lie. All his love for his father a lie. How could he have felt remorse for killing such a man?

But the grief swelled in his thoughts, buoyed on the words of the creature. "What have you now? Not even the memories of a kind but failed father. You have nothing."

J'role's hand fell on a jewel-encrusted dagger. He touched it to his wrist, the blade's edge feeling cool and delicious. Over. All over. Please. The torment of living had become too much. No more disappointments. No more betrayal.

The creature sighed.

A noise by the door, footsteps on silver and gold coins.

"Spirits," said Slinsk.

J'role looked up and saw Mordom and his thief companion in the entrance to the room, Slinsk with an expression of horror, Mordom, his palm with the green eye raised, his mouth formed into an amazed smile.

"NOOOQ!" screamed the creature and whirled around wildly, its small arms scrambling without control. So swiftly that Slinsk could not react, the creature swung around and drove its mandible into the thief's neck, popping his head off with ease.

Mordom was already gesturing beginning to cast a spell. J'role remembered that Mordom seemed to have some sort of affinity with the Horrors, and here was the proof. A blue sparkle crackled around his hands and the creature slowed and stared at Mordom.

Distracted from his despair for the moment, J'role pulled the blade away from his wrist.

Would he be destroyed by a thing that Mordom could command with a wave of his hands? He jumped up, still holding the blade in his hand, and ran toward the door. He scrambled up the thing's back and jumped off it, flying past Mordom and out the door.

His actions created their own distraction, and he heard Mordom shriek and the creature laugh. "Not again, wizard. I know your tricks now."

J'role ran on, cradling his broken arm. He heard Mordom's footsteps not far behind him, and further back down the corridor the strange scrambling noise of the creature. Its voice stayed with him, taunting J'role as he ran. He lost Mordom s somewhere down the passages, but he felt the creature still pursuing him.

J'role raced on and on, no longer knowing where he was or which way was out. But then ahead, he saw a slice of sunlight making its way down several twists and turns in the condors. He realized he was near the exit, then came to a dead stop.

The pit was nearby.

He didn't dare run now.

He moved along carefully, poking his foot out.

I Here it was. He had no brand anymore, but he could feel the edge of the pit.

J'role was too panicked to make it across now, not with his broken arm.

He hesitated, uncertain what to do, when a hand suddenly grabbed at his shoulder.

"Boy," said Mordom. "How do we get out?” His voice was strong and commanding, but J'role also heard the tinge of panic.

Without thought J'role drove the blade in his good hand up into Mordom's belly. The wizard gave out a gasp, and his hands slapped wildly at J'role's face and then found the boy's neck.

J'role tried to slip out of the wizard's grip, but Mordom's hands were strong and J'role screamed in fear.

The words and sounds and babbling ripped from J'role's throat. Mordom staggered back, and in that instant J'role grabbed the wizard and shoved him over the edge of the pit.

A sharp, sudden scream, then the sound of Mordom's body crashing into the bones of the Horrors below as his form was impaled on the many spikes set deep in the pit.

J 'role stood breathing heavily now, tears pressing against his eyes. He could never climb across the wall past the pit. Not with his broken arm. Not while he was shaking like this.

He whirled and raced back. "Another way. Another way out…," he thought.

"What makes you think there is another way out? Why torture yourself with life? You have the dagger. Use it."

He ran forward into the darkness, afraid he would run into the creature, but more afraid of moving slowly.

Then he heard it, only a feet ahead, its small arms scuttling like an army of insects along the corridor.

"Ah, here you are." The voice came from his thoughts and from the depths of the dark corridor.

J'role slumped against the wall, too tired to run anymore, too afraid of any more hope.

His ranting had stopped now, and the corridor was silent but for the soft, taunting voice of the creature.

"Good. Good. It's time for you to have a rest. You've worked so very, very hard."

The creature came closer and closer. J'role pressed his cheek against the wall, then realized with a start where he was. This was the hole revealing the broken mechanism of the trap that released the spikes from the ceiling.

"What was that?" the creature asked. "What did you just think?"

"I want to die," he thought. "I want to die. I want to die." He let all the misery and despair of his life course through

"Of course you do," the creature said. "Who wouldn't, in your position?"

J'role took the dagger and placed it against his wrist. The creature came closer. He dragged the blade across his flesh, lightly. The edge stung and for a moment he thought he might pass out.

"Ahhh," the creature said, its voice rich with ecstasy.

J'role placed his good arm in the hole, his hand searching about for the broken wheel. The pain filled his thoughts, and he could barely concentrate on the task.

"Yes, yes," the creature said. It was only a few steps away now.

J'role found the wheel, took it firmly his hand and began to move it around, searching for the spindle it fit on.

"What are you doing?" The creature was suddenly alert.

J'role took the dagger and once more drew blood from his wrist. Again he felt agony, a horribly pleasant agony, cut through his body. It was tempting to simply finish the job.

Why fight anymore? The creature sighed.

J'role found the spindle, slipped the wheel on it.

The creature stopped moving forward. "You're up to something. What?"

"My death," J'role thought softly. And he was. He heard the drops of blood from his wrist plinking against the stone floor. The creature still did not move forward, but from the sound of its voice, J'role thought it might be only a few inches from the stones that would trigger the spikes.

He placed the blade against the cuts already in his wrist, letting the cold metal touch the ragged skin. "Yes," the creature sighed. "If I do this, I won't feel any more pain?" J'role asked. I he creature started moving forward. "Yes. Yes." J'role felt himself blacking out.

"Do it! Do it!"

He was afraid that if he stopped, the creature would Stop moving forward. Slowly he dragged the blade across his wrist. He felt his blood seeping over his flesh.

"YES!" the creature cried. Then, from above, came the sound of stone shattering as the spikes rushed down and drove into the creature's back. J’role rolled back.

The creature screamed a long, long time. When it stopped, it was like the end of a terrible, howling storm.