Chapter 3
Contrived Convergence
He drifted slowly back into consciousness, lying, curled up on his side. In the few moments it took him to understand, he opened his eyes a fraction trying to think what had happened, and where he was. There was an instant of calm and serenity.
Until he remembered.
The Dungeons.
He was still alone in Venger’s Dungeons.
Shivering, he tried to curl up more tightly, to keep the minimal heat he had. How long had he been here? The days and nights had merged into once grey dream after the Orcs had left him here and he had no idea how much time had passed. He’d taken the water they’d left for him, and stayed as still as possible.
During all this time, he had only seen the Arch-Mage once, and then for only an instant. But the smug look on Venger’s face haunted him; he didn’t need the gift of foresight to know that there was something big brewing and that the Arch-Mage was a the centre of it.
Once again, he thought of the others; where were all his friends? Shouldn’t they have come to help by now? Where were Hank and the others? What had happened to them? Anything could have happened. Anything. But he didn’t panic; if Venger had wanted him dead, he would have done it by now. Venger was playing some other game with them all this time.
There was a noise at the door. It was the Drow again. This time, they had no water with them, and he knew it was time. He was going to find out what was planned for him, whether he wanted to or not.
= = =
In spite of the rainstorm, the Ranger and the Barbarian had struggled on towards the eaves of the forest. While they had seen no sign of any of their friends, they had seen Orc marks; a sure sign that someone they knew was ahead!
They were coming close to the edge, flanked by a raging river, swollen by the recent rain into a torrent that seemed impossible to cross. The dark forest on the opposite side seemed to stretch for miles either way and Hank was struck by the hopelessness of it all. The Orc tracks they’d found suggested they’d crossed the river while it was low and gone into the forest, but if there was anyone in there, there was almost no hope that they would be found. Not in something that big.
They sat and waited for a while beside the river, eating some berries and having some of the cool, refreshing water. They didn’t speak as they sat there, both were too exhausted.
Hank reached to the Bow by his side, pulled a golden arrow and let it loose into the sky. It hung there like a miniature sun, spreading the soft golden rays over the countryside and banishing the dusk for a few minutes. Then it faded slowly and fell back, disappearing into the dim light.
He had been sending signal arrows up every so often for most of the past day, in the vague hope that his friends might see it and come to find them. So far, there had been no response. While it would be difficult to send a signal with either the Shield or the Cloak, Presto and Diana would surely be able to signal back with their weapons. If they were able to…
That thought hung there in the back of his mind. It had been almost a day since they’d seen the Dungeonmaster, and they were no further forward in finding any of their friends. Hank felt sick to his stomach, he couldn’t keep this going for very much longer. They’d struggled on, they’d gone as far as they physically could, but they were still alone.
And all the time was the growing sense that someone was watching them.
It started off as a subtle feeling, but it had grown stronger with every passing step, and as they waited by the river, he could almost feel whoever it was standing there with him.
Venger… it must be Venger…Dungeonmaster’s warning had started to pray on his mind; the old man was very worried. And if he’d been worried, then that wasn’t good news for any of them.
He glanced suddenly up at the little boy sitting close by, gently tapping the ground with his Club.
As if feeling his gaze, Bobby murmured:
‘I miss my sister.’
‘I know.’
‘I miss Uni, too.’
‘I know. We’ll find them, Bobby.’
He wasn’t lying, exactly. But he couldn’t, in all conscience, believe he was telling the truth. The Barbarian was still willing to believe him; but as time went on and they got no further forward, even his trust was showing signs of weakening. What were they going to do next?
‘Do you think they saw it?’ asked Bobby suddenly.
The innocence of the question suddenly seemed unreasonable. It wasn’t the first time he’d asked it; it wasn’t even the most annoying question of their journey. But it was just too much this time.
‘For fuck’s sake, Bobby! I don’t know, alright!’
There was shock on he Barbarian’s face, but also a hint of relief. He’d always hated being treated like a baby. They glared at each other, but Bobby looked away first. Hank felt terrible for taking his frustration out of the boy, but the outburst seemed to clear the air between them. And the Barbarian stopped asking stupid, annoying and childish questions.
‘Hank?’ said the Barbarian at last, his tone much more serious than before. ‘If Venger has this Mirror, how are we going to stop him?’
That was a good question. That was the question that was burning at the back of his mind. Dungeonmaster hadn’t given them any help at all with that. And how are we even gonna find him?
‘I don’t know that either, Bobby.’
‘Oh.’
How had they gotten themselves into this? How had he let this happen? Nothing could stop the memories, and the regret. He had known this was a trap; they all had known. The others had agreed, with varying levels of reluctance; only Eric had voiced any real objections.
It was easy to wish for things to be different. If he had known, he would have been more careful with their recognisance, he would have been fastest and stayed closer to Sheila and the others. He’d put the lure of home before the safety of his friends.
He had never felt more like crying. Inside was a furious sense of urgency, but there was nothing they could do. They had no idea where to look next.
His eyes closed against the growing number of choices. He thought about the Thief, knowing she could be anywhere, he imagined he could hear her voice amid the rumble of the waters; she was calling out his name.
There it was again, that feeling that there was someone else there. Paranoia, perhaps, but sometimes he could almost feel them reaching out to touch him. He shuddered, and his eyes opened.
No. This time there is something.His instinct made him turn and look up.
= = =
She woke with a start. How long had she slept? It was already dark under the eaves of the forest, she must have slept for a few hours, in spite of the damp and the cold. Nearby, the low howl of the prowling predators made her grateful for her Cloak; she tried not to think about the defenceless Diana she had left behind. Anything could have happened. She had to get this done as fast as she could. She had to get back to help the Acrobat as fast as she could.
Disorientated from the sleep, she looked around, surprised that she’d made it down to the river. That afternoon, she’d stopped, unsure about what to do next: up river, back towards the Orc encampment, or downriver, towards civilisation, and probably a bridge. She didn’t have much hope of crossing it here; the current raised curls of white water. But instead of resting, she’d fallen asleep.
She though back guiltily to her injured friend. She shouldn’t have slept at all, let alone for a few hours. Diana needed help; now! She had to get up and get moving, now! it didn’t matter how she was feeling, she had to go.
Just as she was pulling herself up searing bright light cut through the sky on the opposite side. A ball of flame hung in the sky for a long number of seconds, and she stared, open-mouthed at it.
It was a signal arrow. It was a signal from Hank.
He was here; she could just make out his green-clad figure sitting near the water on the other side.
She screamed his name, but waited fruitlessly for an answer against the heavy roar of water. Finally, something was going right, but he couldn’t hear her. She tore at her Cloak, waving frantically, but he didn’t turn.
Why didn’t he see her!She ran out into the river, still waving and screaming, but there was no reaction. Tears started to run down her face. She needed him, she could see him, but he didn’t move. Why didn’t he turn and see her!
She waded deeper into the freezing cold river, almost up to her waist having to lean into the current to stay upright. But as she waved, there was a movement in the sky above her, a gleam of dull red against a dark grey background. She looked up.
It couldn’t be! No! It couldn’t! Oh, God, not one of those…!‘Hank!’ she screamed, waving frantically. ‘HANK!’
The current weakened for a fraction of a second, but it was enough to make her lose her balance.
The river took her, and pulled her down.
= = =
They were in place. It was all ready for the final act.It sickened him to feign compassion, but the boy had to believe; he had to make the choice freely or the magic wouldn’t work. And the only way to do that was to play on the one thing he truly cared about; the thing he cared about even more than leaving this world. His friends.
It was the only way.
The Arch-mage turned to the Drow by his side.
‘Bring him,’ he told her. ‘Bring the Magician to me. Now.’
= = =