Obsidian Ridge

Chapter Fifteen

The king stormed into the audience chamber, his clothes still damp with sweat from sparring. A court clerk approached him as he made his way around the curved outer wall.

"King Korox, if I could just get a moment-"

The king waved him off. "No," he boomed.

The clerk bowed once then disappeared behind a column.

Reaching the far side and the statue of Ondeth Obarskyr, Korox pushed open the door to his private reading room. Though it was early morning, the room was still quite dark. The sun coming in from the high windows cast long shadows across the opposite wall. The reflection lit the chamber well enough that the king could see all the obstacles in his way.

Crossing to the far edge, the king looked into the darkened corner.

"Where is he?" he said under his breath. "I am here, my king."

Behind him, the Claw had materialized. It had always been disconcerting to Korox that the Claw seemingly appeared out of thin air, but now was not the time to discuss this little pet peeve.

"So, I don't need to tell you about the Matron's demand."

"No, you do not."

"And you are aware of the princess's predicament?"

The Claw nodded.

"We can speak freely here, away from other ears. What am I to do?"

The Claw took a deep breath, pausing-a very uncharacteristic moment of hesitation.

"This is not the time to withhold your thoughts," said the king. "I need your unfiltered council, so that I can make a quick decision about both the Matron and my daughter."

The Claw bowed his head. "My lord, there is something I must tell you…" Another moment of hesitation.

"Out with it, man," demanded the king. "Mariko is in the Cellar. For all we know she may already be dead, but if she is not-and I pray for the sake of Erlkazar she is still unharmed-then I need to move fast."

"I'll get her," volunteered the Claw.

The king nodded. "I thought you might. But then what do I do about the Matron?"

"My lord, I am your loyal servant. If you were to ask me to descend to the deepest levels of Hell and return with a devil in tow, I would do it without question. There is nothing too grand or too small, nothing I would withhold from you. But I cannot turn myself over to the Matron. Not now."

The king was puzzled. "Not now?"

"Because I am in love with your daughter, and I must get her back."

The king lowered his head. "I know."

It was the Claw's turn to be puzzled. "You know?"

"Mariko is not the only spy at my disposal."

"I see." The Claw stared at the ground, shifting his weight from foot to foot, looking rather uncomfortable.

"We do not have the time to have the conversation about what it means to court my daughter," said the king. "But I hope we will in the near future." He put his hand on the Claw's shoulder. "For now, let's just get her back."

The Claw nodded. "Yes, my lord."

The king crossed the room and slid open the drawer on a desk in the corner. Reaching inside, he retrieved a small box, a magic sigil inscribed on its surface. Placing his hand on top, he spoke the princess's name. "Mariko Morkann," and the lid to the box sprang open.

"This"-he lifted a small, flat disk, about twice the size of a typical gold coin, from the box; brightly colored triangles radiated out from the center, making it look like a child's toy-"is a portal that will take you to the Cellar. You will be able to activate it a second time to get back out, once you have found Mariko. But be careful when you use it. It can only be used once to get in and once to get out. It will not last very long. If you activate it and do not use it, you will be lost, trapped inside the Cellar." He offered it to the masked man.

The Claw took it. "I understand."

The king grabbed his assassin by the arm. "I have trusted you with the most important matters of my reign. Now I must trust you with my daughter's life. Please, don't let me lose her."

The Claw bowed. "I will get her back. I give you my word."

"I know you will," said the king, his heart heavy for the news h still had to deliver. "But son, I'm afraid that"-he pointed to the magical portal disk-"is all the help I can give you. If you fail, I will have no choice but to turn you over to the underworld."

The Claw nodded his understanding.

"There is still the matter of the Obsidian Ridge, and I have a responsibility to this kingdom."

"Yes, my lord."

"I can give you enough time to leave the palace-to get to the Cellar. But then I must give the Magistrates the order." "The order?"

"Yes." The king steeled himself. "I will tell the Matron that she has a deal. That I will turn you over to her as soon as I can hunt you down. If she has as much reach into the palace as I suspect, then she will know if I'm telling her the truth. So

I will send the Magistrates out, looking for you. You will be a hunted man, but if you are quick, you will be out of this realm and inside the Cellar before I give the command."

"I do not understand," said the Claw. "Why accept the deal if I can get the princess back?"

"Because I do not trust the Matron, but I have no choice but to accept her offer for help. While you are searching for Mariko, I can be putting together plans to fight Xeries-with the help of the underworld. If all goes well, you will retrieve my daughter while we fight off the Obsidian Ridge."

The Claw nodded. "I see. Thank you, my lord. I will not fail."

"Good luck, son. Good luck."

Without looking back, King Korox Morkann left his private reading room, closing the door behind him. Crossing through the circle of pillars, he sat down on his throne and waved over a junior scribe.

A young man of no more than eighteen years scampered over, his arms full of parchment, a quill and ink gripped in his hands.

"Take this down." The king cleared his throat. "By official decree, I, Korox Morkann, King of Erlkazar, do hereby order the Magistrates of my realm to find and capture the man known as the Claw. He is to be returned to me alive and with all haste." The king paused. "Use all force necessary to retrieve this man. Spare no expense. The fate of Erlkazar depends on it."

Korox nodded. "Have that posted on all barracks and delivered to the commanders of each unit."

The young man looked up from his writing, his eyes wide. He swallowed hard, then nodded, shuffling off to do as he was told.

Korox slumped back in his throne.

+++++

The Claw stood in the king's private reading room. This was the first time he'd been here alone, and the room, although small and packed with furniture, felt very empty.

He turned the magical, colored disk over in his hand. He wasn't sure he wanted to find out what was on the other side. The Cellar, from all accounts, was a terrible place. But that wasn't what bothered him.

It was the princess. She'd been missing for three days now. If she'd been in the Cellar all that time, there's no telling what sort of foul evil had befallen her.

The Claw wasn't frightened by much, not even the thought of his own death. But finding the woman he loved torn to shreds on the floor of the Cellar would be more than he could handle.

He placed the disk on the floor and readied himself. There was only one way to find out if she was still alive. And the faster he got there, the more likely he could save her. Giving the disk a spin, he watched the colors blur and melt into one another. They lifted off the surface, seemingly knitting together in midair.

A shimmering portal formed beside the disk. It swirled, a giant replica of the spinning trinket, suspended over the ground by nothing at all. Picking up the disk, the Claw stepped through the portal-out of the palace and into the Cellar.

As soon as both feet touched the ground, the portal winked out of existence behind him. The chamber he had entered was completely dark. It smelled damp and musty, like the mineral caves under the ruins of Castle Trinity, and the only sound was of dripping water, somewhere off in the distance.

The Claw slipped the portal disk under a flap of fabric beneath his belt then unfastened his left gauntlet.

"As you wish, Princess Mariko," he said, and the sigil on his palm lit up.

The Claw found himself standing inside a long, narrow room. Patches of fuzzy yellow mold covered the walls and floor. The few flagstones still visible were worn and broken, missing altogether in many places. Pools of dirty water had collected in the divots. The light from Princess Mariko's magical gift reflected off their surfaces, illuminating the dripping cracks in the ceiling.

The Claw took in the whole chamber, swinging his palm from one end to the other. The portal had brought him to the inside of a sealed room. There didn't appear to be any doors or windows-no way out at all.

"First things first."

Kneeling down, the Claw retrieved a small dagger from his boot. Using it to puncture the leather on his off-hand gauntlet, he cut a square hole in the palm-the same size as the illuminated sigil. It took him some time. His gauntlets were well-crafted, and the leather resisted being severed. But eventually he succeeded. Satisfied with his work, he returned the gauntlet to his left hand and made his way down to the far end of the room.

The stones on the floor moved and shifted under his weight. It seemed they hadn't been walked upon in some time. As he drew closer to the end, it looked as if there had at one time been a door leading out of this chamber, but it was now all bricked up. The yellowish mold seemed thin here, giving way to more of the foul water. A large puddle flooded most of this part of the room, growing ever bigger from the slow drip in the ceiling.

Stopping at the edge of the puddle, the Claw scanned the bricked-up doorway with his illuminated palm. The brick was a different color than the rest of the wall, but it wasn't new by any means. Turning his attention to the ceiling, he scanned the crack that seemed to be the only way in or out of here.

The puddle below him thrashed violently, splashing filthy water in every direction. Something wrapped around his legs, and he lost his balance, pulled from his feet. One moment he was standing, the next he found himself looking up, his body soaked, lying flat on his back in the puddle.

The water rose from the ground around him, forming into a pair of huge hands, and they swung down on the Claw, hitting him squarely in the chest. The air rushed from his lungs.

Rolling to one side, the Claw scampered to his feet, turning to face the black, watery hands. Around those hands, a humanoid formed, lifting itself straight out of the puddle as if using the water to create a body. Its features were dull and ill-defined, slowly taking on more shape. Finally, standing in a pool of water only half the size that it once was, the Claw faced what looked like a drow woman.

Not yet having caught his breath, he took a feeble swipe at the newcomer. Without moving, the woman's body turned liquid, dripping away from his strike and avoiding the attack. The Claw stumbled, his momentum moving into his swing, and he was rewarded with another pair of vicious blows, this time to the head.

The counterstrike from the watery creature sent him tumbling to the corner of the room. Tucking his head, the Claw rolled with the fall, coming up against the wall with his feet and stopping himself from smashing into the mold. Kicking away, he quickly got back to his feet, circling away from the creature.

Though it had the form of a female dark elf, this was no drow. The creature's body was fluid, oozy. Not quite water, but it could reorganize itself as if it were liquid. The Claw had heard of such beasts, but he thought they were just the ramblings of drunken adventurers, telling tall tales over an ale at the inn.

The watery thing lunged, reaching for his right hand. The Claw backed away, bringing all four blades of his left gauntlet squarely down on the creature's shoulder, severing its arm from its body. The arm splashed to the floor into a puddle of goo that resembled a jellyfish washed up on a beach.

The creature screamed and pulled away, grasping at its stump. It spouted off some words that he didn't understand- all hisses and clicks. Whatever she was saying, he was certain it meant she was not happy with him.

As he watched, the creature regrew its arm. Then the rest of its features solidified, turning from slimy ooze into fabric, metal, flesh, and leather. It wore a steel breastplate, polished to a high shine, with copper chain sleeves. Underneath its armor, the drow creature had formed a purple velvet shirt that shone through the sides of the breastplate and the rings of the chain. Below that, it sported a thick leather belt that held up a single short sword in a metal scabbard. And of course, its skin was a shiny, onyx black.

The Claw shook his head. He found himself looking into her dark eyes as she stared at him. Funny how charming she seemed, even though he didn't understand her language.

The creature came at him again, punching her fist at his left gauntlet. Though she had a sword, she hadn't drawn it, and the barehanded attack caught the Claw off guard. He tried to pull back, but the drow woman was quick, and her fist collided with his. When it did, her hand flowed out, becoming little more than a blob of gelatinous gunk enveloping his entire left hand-bladed gauntlet, wrist, and all.

The room grew dark, as the magical light on his palm glowed through the drow beast's flesh, illuminating her face and chest but little else. The Claw shook his arm, trying to break free, but it was no use. She had him. The ooze around his hand seemed to dry up, hardening to an almost leatherlike state, trapping his weapon inside the creature.

Struggling for a moment longer, the Claw finally gave up. "Won't let it go?" he growled, pulling his right hand back into a fist. "Fine. I'll cut it out."

The Claw yanked the creature forward with his left hand, and buried the blades of his gauntlet into its gut with his right. Though it appeared to be wearing polished steel armor, it gave way like oozy flesh. Unable to dodge in time, the beast was pinned, and the Claw pulled his arms apart, tearing the drow woman in half. She screamed as her body came apart, then she slumped and sloughed off, dripping away from the Claw's gauntlets and splattering on the floor like chunks of uneaten food.

The Claw shook his hands to clear all the ooze from between his blades. Bits of the creature slipped slowly from his weapons, raining down on the ground and splashing in the filthy water. Kicking at the chunks of the creature's remains, he satisfied himself that it was indeed dead.

"Now," he said to himself, "to find the princess."

Reaching into his belt, he pulled out a small compass. Lifting its lid, he examined the needle. Unlike most compasses, this one didn't have the cardinal directions inscribed on its surface. In fact, there were no markings on it at all, just a glass top, a black bottom, and a silver needle-which pointed toward the corner of the room.

It was brighter now that his palm was no longer encased in ooze, and he followed the direction of the compass to the mold-covered wall. There were two footprints on the wall from where he had pushed off after being knocked on the head by the ooze creature. The mold had come away where he had hit, revealing something other than stone underneath. He tapped at it with the tips of his blades, and it made the low, solid thump of wood.

Taking a step back, he let loose with a kick, right above the footprints. The wood behind creaked under the blow, and the mold flopped from its surface, exposing an arched door with black iron bolts holding it together. Wet and covered in mold, it didn't give the Claw much trouble. With just a few more kicks the wood came apart, crumbling into rotten splinters, sending a million tiny spiders scattering in all directions.

The Claw's skin crawled at the sight of it. "I hope none of you get any bigger," he said as he leaned down and slipped through the door. "Nothing I hate more than spiders."