4. Thaltraw

Zenith looked to where his father was pointing. He saw the peaks of a few small huts, and off in the distance, a large forest.

                 “C’mon, let’s go,” said Zenith. “Are you all right?”

                 “Yes, I think so,” Grith said.

                 They walked to the end of the rocky path, and saw, to their relief, a small town.

                 “That’s Thaltraw,” said Grith. “It was once a peaceful land, until that part,” he pointed over to the edge of the forest, where Zenith, with his keen eyesight, could see a large castle, “was taken over by the Lord of the Dead, who is the one they say none can kill.”

                 “The Lord of the Dead!!! The Land of the Dead!!” Zenith suddenly realized. “We can’t go in that forest! When I was sleeping at home after the werewolf attacked, I dreamt that we were in that forest, and Varkoff, who is the Lord of the Dead, captured you and made me come with him, or else he’d kill you!”

                 “Now, remember, Zenith, we’re not quite sure that you’re a Mazs-Zhido yet,” said Grith. “That may have just been a dream.”

                 “Then how come I dreamt of the Lord of the Dead and the Land of the Dead then?” asked Zenith. “I’ve never even heard of it!”

                 “That’s a good point, Zenith, but we still have to get you to that Wolfbane,” Grith replied.

                 “Is there any other way around the forest?” asked Zenith.

                 “The only other way is to go through the Land of the Dead,” said Grith, “or to travel over those mountains, which brings us near to Wartlaht, Thaltraws rival village. And Wartlaht is a very, very violent village.”

                 “Well, we definitely can’t go in the forest,” said Zenith.

                 “Look, Zenith, we have to go in the forest, it’s the only safe way, and we still don’t know you’re a Mazs-Zhido.”

                 “Maybe you’re right,” said Zenith. “If we can’t go through the Land of the Dead, and we can’t go too near to Wartlaht, then we have to take our chances.”

                 They walked down a small hill that led into the town. Since it was night, Zenith expected to see no lights in the windows, but as he got closer, he could see firelight in every window.

                 “People are still awake,” Zenith said, mostly to himself.

                 “Hmmm, that must mean something is amiss,” said Grith. “The people of Thaltraw are very peaceful, and so they go to bed in the night. Hardly any people stay awake during the night, unless they are expecting an attack from the Land of the Dead.”

                 “Hmmm, I’m not so sure that is candlelight,” said Zenith, peering at the window closest to him.

                 “Well, we’ll find out later. Let’s get to a safe place and make camp. Best not disturb the people, even if they are awake,” said Grith.

                 They walked away from the odd fire lit windows, and found a spot just off Devil’s Pass that they could camp in.

 

 

In the morning, Zenith awoke to the sounds of birds singing, the gentle rustling of the trees, and the bustling about of people in the town.

                 “Psst…Grith, it’s morning,” Zenith whispered to his father. There was no answer. Odd, he thought, Grith was usually awake before him. He must’ve been really tired from getting away from that avalanche. But they had to get moving.

                 “Dad, we really should get moving,” he said. He reached over to the blanket that Grith was in and shook it. It collapsed.

                 “Dad! Where are you?” he said. He got up, packed up their sleeping things, and ran into the town.

                 “Hello? Has anyone seen a man about six feet tall? He’s got dark brown hair, muscular arms, and a large scar running down his left arm! Has anyone seen him?”

                 Everyone just looked at him. He heard footsteps walking up behind him. He turned around.

                 “Dad?” he said.

                 “No, but I would be willing to help you,” said the grizzled old man walking up behind him. The man had long, dark hair, and a longer beard. He had a bushy mustache and two of his fingers were missing. He had a long staff that helped him with his bad limp.

                 “Who are you?” asked Zenith.

                 “The name’s Haldemoth, but everyone in this town calls me Scrubby,” said the man. “And you?”

                 Zenith wasn’t sure if he should trust anyone in this town quite yet, so he said,

                 “Madolaz…my names Madolaz,” he said. Haldemoth looked at him and then said,

                 “Right then, Madolaz, are you looking for yer father?”

                 “Yes,” said Zenith.

                 “Well, I’m not sure I could find ‘im fer you, but I could help that arm of yers. I’m a Healer.”

                 “Oh, could you?” Zenith said. “That would be a big help.”

                 “Right. Follow me to my hut…although…don’t touch anything. Years of being a Healer have given me quite a collection of stuff.”

                 “Right, okay,” said Zenith. He followed Haldemoth to his home, and he led him past a wide variety of potions, trinkets, and magic devices. When they passed a large iron door, Haldemoth said,

                 “That door is strictly forbidden. No one, not even the guards of this town, is allowed in there, and especially not strangers…uh…no offence or anything.”

                 “That’s alright,” said Zenith.

                 Haldemoth led Zenith into a room with a small bed in it.

                 “Right then, just sit…or lay down on that bed right there. I’ll be with ya in a sec.”

                 Zenith went over to the bed and sat down on it. He was getting the feeling that Haldemoth wasn’t just a kind old man. He was feeling that he was a very secretive man, full of furtiveness and maybe even evil. He got up and looked around the room, being careful not to touch anything. He was getting to the stuff around the door, when he heard a thumping noise. He walked over near the door and peered out through the doorway. The thumping was coming from inside the secret room. He heard footsteps and quickly hid, but near enough so that he could see out the door. Haldemoth walked over to the door, took a key from around his neck, and inserted it into the lock. He walked in and the thumping abruptly stopped he heard a WHACK of wood hitting something, and he heard something slump to the floor. He quickly got up from his hiding place and sat down on the bed, just as Haldemoth walked in.

                 “Ah, here we go,” he said. “I’ve got everything I need. Now, this won’t hurt. It’s just that I have to put this cream on yer arm, and then cast a spell. Then you just can’t move that arm for ten minutes and it’s fine.” Zenith nodded.

                 “Okay, now…” Haldemoth smeared the cream onto Zenith’s arm. He shivered. It was very cold cream.

“Then…eeseemeegarreesooOogarreemeegarreemahjoojooseeseemeemeegarrgarreeEE…” Haldemoth chanted. Zenith felt the coldness race up his arm and down his arm, again and again until it became warm, then hot. He felt a surge of flame through his arm, and it fell limply to his side.

                 “Now, all you have to do is wait ten minutes while it heals fully. But careful. If you move it, it could break again,” said Haldemoth.

                 “Thank you,” Zenith said as he walked out of the strange man’s house. He walked past the iron door, and he could hear a faint shuffling on the other side. He wondered what it was. He walked out of the house, making sure he didn’t move his arm, when he heard something coming from the back of Haldemoth’s house. He sneaked over to the back and saw a small hole in the back of the house. He thought about going over to the hole and climbing in, but he realized it would only just be big enough for him to crawl through and bonk his arm. He decided to wait until his arm healed to crawl through. He knew it wasn’t the best thing to do, to sneak through another person’s house, but his curiosity was getting the best of him, what with the thumping at the door, the whack of Haldemoth’s staff against something. It was all making him curious.

 

 

After a while, Zenith’s arm had healed back to full strength. He got up from where he had been resting, and walked to Haldemoth’s house, climbed over the fence, and walked up to the hole. Now that he was near it, he could hear the thumping again. He heard the sound of a key scraping in a lock, and he heard the iron door creak open.

                 “Alright, now that yer boy is gone, I can deal with you,” he heard Haldemoth’s scratchy voice say. Your boy? Did Haldemoth have Grith captured?

                 “Let me go, you evil sorcerer, or else,” he heard his father’s voice say.

                 Zenith got down on his hands and knees, making sure he had his knife with him, and started crawling through the small tunnel, getting stuck only once, but he managed to struggle free. He reached a bend, and when he turned his head around it, to turn into it, he saw the feet of Haldemoth and Grith.

                 “Why are you doing this?” he heard Grith say.

                 “You know what I want,” said Haldemoth. “I want to channel the power of your boy’s Mazs-Zhido powers.

                 “But how do you know he is a Mazs-Zhido?” asked Grith.

                 “You were a fool to accept that invitation for a drink,” said Haldemoth. “I got you so drunk that you spilled it, and I tied you up and brought you here.”

                 “You’re evil,” said Grith.

                 “Yes, well, I do come from Wartlaht,” said Haldemoth. “I was granted into this town only if I kept my Necromancy to myself.”

                 “You’re a Necromancer?” asked Grith.

                 “Yes, but I disguise myself as a Healer, and the only way I could get your son’s trust was to heal him of that broken arm.”

                 Zenith had heard enough. He crawled as fast as he could out of the hole and stood up behind Grith.

                 “Wha…? How did you get in here?” Haldemoth looked down at the hole. “Grrrr, I knew I should’ve had that hole sealed up!”

                 “Why did you capture Grith?” Zenith growled.

                 “Just for a little while, Zenith the Mazs-Zhido. After I healed that arm of yours, I was hoping that you would live with me, because you thought that you would never be able to find your father. Then I would channel your powers and be the most powerful sorcerer in the world!!” Haldemoth grinned evilly.

                 “You’ll never get me,” said Zenith, and he pulled out his dagger.

                 “Hah!! A dagger? You’ve got to be kidding!” And with that, Haldemoth pulled his staff upright to his chin. The tip crackled and flamed, and then, in a puff of green smoke, Haldemoth disappeared. After the green smoke cleared, they could see that in Haldemoth’s place was a large snake-like being. His head was a cobra’s head, but his torso was still the same, except for the large green scales that covered his body. He had a long, whiplike tail curling up from behind him, a poisonous stinger on the end. His arms were large and muscular and they ended in sharp claws. Haldemoth’s snake self hissed and pulled a longsword from a sheath. The longsword had a carving of a cobra that seemed to glow.

                 “Zenith, this man is a Datolhhem. They’re very evil!” Grith said as he pushed Zenith back down toward the hole. “You start crawling. I’ll fend him off for a couple seconds then come after you!”

                 “But you have no weapons!” Zenith said.

                 “I’ll manage,” said Grith. “Now go!!”

                 Zenith dropped down and slid into the hole. He wriggled about to get himself in the right position, then crawled forward. He heard the clang of Haldemoth’s sword hit the ground, and heard his father drop to the ground and start wiggling after him. After a couple seconds Zenith heard,

                 “Ahh!! I’m stuck!! Zenith! I can’t move!!”

                 “Just try to wriggle really fast, and you might come loose!” Zenith called back.

                 “I can’t! I’m really wedged in here. It’s hard to breath!” Grith called.

                 Zenith heard the hiss of the Datolhhem.

                 “Uhg! It bit me!” Grith shouted.

                 “Hang on!!” Zenith called. He wriggled as fast as he could until he was out in the open air again. Then he turned and dove straight back into the hole. He crawled until he saw his father’s face in the darkness.

                 “Give me your hands,” Zenith told him. Grith reached out and grabbed Zenith. “Ready?” Zenith said. Grith nodded. Then Zenith pulled with all his might. The healed arm was very strong now, and so was the other one, Zenith thought. He pulled and pulled until he felt a little movement. Grith was bitten several more times until Zenith managed to pull him until he could move again. But how could Zenith get out now?

                 “Hooooo, boy,” he groaned.

                 “How close are you to the end?” Grith asked. “Ahg!!! He bit me again!!”

                 “Just a couple feet,” Zenith answered.

                 “I think you can probably wriggle that much,” said Grith.

                 “Except there’s a turn,” Zenith said.

                 “Uhhh, the poison…taking…effect,” Grith mumbled.

                 “@%#$ all Datolhhems!!!” Zenith cursed. He grabbed Grith, who was going in and out of consciousness, and started wriggling backwards. He saw a shape on Grith’s back, and realized it was a cobra. Obviously Datolhhems could change into actual cobras. Zenith came to the turn, wound his legs around it, and pulled Grith. Luckily, it was a bit of a downhill slope, so he sort of slid down it. The cobra was getting closer to his hand. He batted at it, but it bit him.

                 “Ugh!!!” Zenith growled, and he tried to go faster. His feet were on the grass outside now, and he could feel the breeze on his back.

                 “Just a few more inches” he thought. “There!!!” He was out. The cobra slithered out and reverted to its Datolhhem form. Zenith quickly pulled Grith out and grabbed up a digging shovel that was leaning up against the wall.

3. Devil’s Pass << | Contents | >> 5. Escape