Guardian of the Mountain Read online

  Mathis stepped out from the trees, and holding his hand was a small girl in a plain brown dress. Jerek grunted, realizing how off his guess had been. The girl had long dark hair, and she skipped as they approached.

  “So we’re a family man,” Jerek said. “I must say I’m a little surp-”

  He stopped short as he got a good look at the daughter. She’d brushed aside her hair and stared up at him, a tight small across her lips. Her eyes were solid black, with only the tiniest hints of white at their edges. He felt her stare bore through him, and before that tiny little girl he felt naked and vulnerable. Biting his lip, he shook the feeling away.

  “Cute kid,” he managed to say.

  “And that’s all she is, a kid,” said Mathis, clearly understanding Jerek’s discomfort. “And that’s how she was born. I’ve taken care of her since her mother died. That’s what I need the gold for, Jerek. I want to buy us a home. I want to have a patch of land to farm and raise my child. I won’t kill for that. You can keep mining long after I’m gone, make yourself a king for all I care.”

  The girl was looking at him, her head tilted slightly to the side. For some reason, Jerek felt the hair on his neck stand up.

  “Say hello to Jerek,” said Mathis.

  “Hello.” The girl curtseyed. “My name is Mira.”

  “Hello, Mira,” said Jerek. He nodded. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Go run off and play,” Mathis said, kneeling down and kissing her cheek. “Don’t go too far into the trees, all right?”

  “I won’t,” she promised before skipping back down the slope. Mathis stood and watched her go.

  “I just want to give her a good life,” he said, his eyes never leaving her. “Can you understand that, Jerek?”

  Jerek nodded.

  “I know a good man when I see one.” He grinned. “That’s usually a sign for me to rake ‘em over the coals and take twice as much coin from their purse. I guess for you, I can make an exception. We are partners, after all.”

  Mathis smiled.

  “Sounds good. Let’s get to work.”

  Jerek used his fire bricks to light his torch. Mathis had one of his own, and as Jerek was lighting it for him, they heard a scream from the tunnels. It started off only alarmed, then twisted and rose into one of horrific pain.

  “Dan?” asked Jerek as he drew his sword.

  “No,” Mathis said, his face pale. “That’s Russ.”

  The two ran into the cave, torches in one hand, swords in the other. They heard a second scream, this one even more pained. The sound bounced through the tunnel, a nightmarish echo that chilled Jerek’s blood. The scream cut off halfway through, and the sudden silence was terrible. Mathis led the way, running headlong through the mountain, heedless of any jagged rocks or uneven steps. It took only moments before they reached Russ.

  “Russ!” Mathis shouted, dropping his torch and falling to his knees beside his brother. “Russ, you all right?”

  Russ lay on his back, his pickaxe beside him. His torch burned by his feet, its flame sputtering. Blood soaked his clothes. Along his face were three deep gashes running from his forehead to his neck.

  “Get him out of here,” Jerek said, hurrying deeper into the tunnel.

  “Who did this?” Mathis asked as he hooked his arms underneath his brother’s shoulders.

  “Just go!” Torch leading, he followed the winding pathway into the mountain. For a while he heard the sounds of Mathis dragging his brother out, but those quickly drifted away. Deeper and deeper he went, the tunnel curving seemingly without end. His path grew uneven, sharp edges of rock jutting out from the sides. His run turned to a jog, and then to a walk. He saw no footsteps, no sign of any passage. He had first thought the elf responsible, but the further into the tunnel he went, the less certain he became.

  At last he stopped. The air had grown cold, and he felt its chill in his bones. His sweat clung to him like ice. His torch had begun to flicker, and he felt the weight of the mountain atop him. It wasn’t natural. No cavern, no tunnel could possibly go so deep without break or change. As the light flickered, and darkness began to creep at his eyes, he heard a soft, low growl.

  Jerek swung his torch toward the sound. He saw nothing, just the tunnel continuing deeper and deeper into the hidden bowels of the earth. He took a step back, watching as the shadows danced and the gold glittered around him. Even this far in, the gold remained. It wasn’t natural. It didn’t make sense. The entire fucking mountain was made of gold.

  “Who’s there?” he dared ask, hoping the sound of his voice would calm his nerves. Instead, the sound echoed and shifted, sounding more afraid with each reverberation. And then he heard a roar. It came from deep within, far beyond the meager light of his torch. Jerek turned and ran.

  As he did, he heard the click of claws against stone chasing after. Higher and higher he climbed, following the path to daylight. His torch wobbled in his hand, and he watched it burn lower and lower with a growing dread. He heard rock break behind him, then a long screeching sound of something cutting the walls. He ran faster, the gold flickering around him like a taunting reminder of everything he would lose should he bleed out upon the cavern floor.

  A roar chased after him, but the tunnel was near its end. With a cry of elation, he burst out into soothing daylight. When he spun to face the entrance, he saw nothing, just rock and darkness.

  “Jerek!” he heard Dan shout. He turned to see the big man waving him over. Beside him, Mathis tended to his brother, who he’d wrapped in a blanket.

  “Will he live?” Jerek asked as he approached. He felt dizzy and lightheaded, and he sucked in air like the greedy man he was.

  “I don’t know,” said Mathis. He knelt over Russ, a needle in hand. He gestured to the vicious wounds across his face. “I need to sew these shut. He’s got some cuts on his arms and chest, but these are the worst.”

  Jerek nodded, still trying to regain his breath.

  “Did you find anything?” Mathis asked, not looking up. Jerek glanced back to the tunnel, almost expecting some vile creature to be peering out at him from the darkness. But there was only the glittering gold.

  “Nothing,” he said. “I couldn’t find nothing.”

  “My daughter,” Mathis said as he did his best to thread the needle with shaking hands. “Please, go find her. She’s alone, Jerek. Alone…”

  Jerek looked to the forest line. An ill feeling blossomed in his heart, but he nodded.

  “Sure,” he said. “I’ll find her. Don’t worry. I’m sure she’s fine.”

  Mathis nodded but said nothing.

  “Where you going?” Dan asked when Jerek headed down the slope.

  “Just getting Mira,” he said. “You help Mathis, all right? Do whatever he says.”

  “I will!” Dan shouted. “I’ll be a big help!”

  Jerek entered the forest and paused. Mathis had never shown him where their camp was, only given a vague direction and distance. Still, for them to mine alongside them, they must have moved their camp closer. Besides, Mathis had asked the girl to stay nearby.

  “Mira?” he cried, hoping she’d hear him and save him the trouble of searching. “Mira, where are you? Your father wants to see you.”

  No response. Cursing, Jerek picked a direction and started jogging. He decided to stay close to the tree line, and if he couldn’t find Mira, he’d try the other way next. The whole while, he kept shouting her name.

  Only the quiet forest greeted his shouts. Without realizing it, he began crying out a little quieter, as if the forest might be angry with him for his disturbance. The further he traveled, the thicker the trees grew, until he was certain Mira could not have gone that way, not without tearing her dress and getting lost. He turned and jogged back toward their mine.

  “Mira?” he continued to shout. “Mira, where are you girl?”

  It seemed the forest was fighting against him. Thorny little bristles bit his skin, and he wondered how many tiny scratches might be blee
ding across his hands and arms. Stupid girl, he thought. She was lucky she wasn’t his daughter. Making him run around like this, he’d tan her hide good. If Russ wasn’t bleeding out like a stuck pig, he might have done so anyway, just to teach her a lesson.

  He forced through a thick line of bushes, then stumbled into a clearing. Sitting upon a fallen log, her back to him, was Mira. Before her was a deep space of shadows, the tree branches above interlaced and thick with leaves.

  “Damn it, there you are,” he said.

  Mira turned and smiled at him.

  “I made a friend,” she said. “His name is Flowers.”

  Jerek took her hand and glanced into the shadows, seeing nothing.

  “Sure thing,” he said, pulling her back toward the mountain. Mira followed his gaze and frowned.

  “He’s gone,” she said. “You scared him.”

  “I’m a scary guy.”

  He led her back to her father.

  *

  That night they set up camp together, a large bonfire burning between their tents. Jerek and Dan were to sleep in one, while Mathis tended his brother in the other. Jerek had borrowed Russ’s bow, killing and cooking a rabbit for them to share. Mathis ate in silence, talking only when Jerek prodded conversation out of him.

  “How’s Russ?” he asked.

  “Fever’s burning him,” Mathis said, wiping his mouth. “He’s lost a lot of blood.”

  “I’m sure he’ll pull through.”

  Mathis nodded, his eyes vacant.

  “I hope so,” he said.

  On the other side of the camp, Dan and Mira played. He’d lift her atop his shoulders and prance around while making animal noises. When she grabbed his ears, he’d squawk like one of his favorite birds. Jerek watched them play, envious of their worry-free nature.

  “Something did that to him,” he said at last.

  “Should have listened,” Mathis said, shaking his head. “Knew this place was bad.”

  Jerek took a bite of meat, then frowned as he chewed.

  “Listened to who?” he asked.

  Mathis glanced at him, apparently fighting for a decision.

  “The elf,” he finally said. “Two nights ago an elf warned us not to mine the mountain.”

  “Let me guess, was he an old fucker, gray hair, called himself Evermoon?”

  “He warned you as well?”

  Jerek drew his sword and laid it across his lap.

  “He must be behind this,” he said. “Not sure how, but he is. Whatever it was, it tore Russ up pretty good, but he fought it off. I have no doubt about that. Whatever went after him, it wanted him dead.”

  “Those are claw marks,” Mathis said, shaking his head. “You know that, right? I’ve seen a man mauled by a bear, and those cuts on his face are pretty damn close.”

  “You think a bear did that to him?” asked Jerek. “Guess it’s possible the elf befriended one. You know, maybe Russ just spooked it, that’s all. It ran back into the cave when I went looking.”

  Mathis tossed the bones of his meal to the fire.

  “You really think a bear did that?” he asked.

  Jerek sighed.

  “No, I don’t. But I don’t know what else to think.”

  Dan arrived, Mira on his shoulders tugging at his hair.

  “I’m a horsie,” Dan said, a grin on his face. “See? A good horsie!”

  He reared back and pretended to buck Mira off, who only grabbed tighter and giggled.

  “That’s enough play,” Mathis said. “It’s time for bed, Mira.”

  “Where will she sleep?” asked Jerek. Mathis pointed beside the fire.

  “Right here with me. We’ll need to keep watch, and I don’t think your friend will prove too trustworthy. That leaves just you and me.”

  “I can do it!” insisted Dan.

  “You just sleep,” said Jerek. “You worked hard today, right? Hard day’s work means good night’s sleep.”

  “I guess you’re right,” said Dan. He stretched and yawned. “Bed time.”

  “You want first watch?” asked Jerek.

  “I don’t think I can sleep anyway,” Mathis said, glancing at the tent where his brother lay.

  “Wake me when you start feeling tired,” said Jerek as he crawled into his tent. “And make sure you keep that fire roaring. Don’t know why, but I feel a lot safer with it going.”

  “Will do,” said Mathis, but he looked tired, so very tired. Jerek couldn’t imagine how he felt, but he thought it might be similar to the bone-deep ache that dragged at his own body. In blankets beside Dan, he fell asleep before the big man could even begin snoring.

  *

  A jabbing pain stirred Jerek from his sleep. He knew his leg felt strange, but he couldn’t tell what. Then the pain hit again, and he realized he was being kicked.

  “What?” he mumbled, sitting up. He saw no one, just Dan facing him, his mouth hanging open, drool running from his chin to his pillow. His leg shot out, a reflexive movement as if he were trying to walk. This time Jerek shifted out of the way, barely avoiding the blow.

  “Damn fool,” he said. He rubbed his eyes, feeling unbearably tired. It was as if being awake were painful. Still disorientated, he sat there in his uncomfortable bed trying to figure out what was bothering him.

  “Mathis?” he finally asked, realizing at least part of the puzzle. He glanced out of his tent to see the man hunched over beside the fire, his head slowly bobbing with his breathing.

  At least the fire’s healthy, he thought, glad that whatever attacked Russ hadn’t sneaked in while they were unguarded. As he shifted his weight to his other arm, still trying to convince himself to climb out into the cool night air and take Mathis’s place, he saw movement from beside his tent. He grabbed his sword lying next to him and then tensed, doing his best to make no noise. The figure moved, casting a shadow across the tent that slowly moved toward the fire.

  Jerek let out his breath when the figure appeared in view. It was only Mira. His unease remained, however, so he watched as she stood before the fire. Her head tilted to one side, listening. Her hands stretched over the flame, as if she were warming her palms. She whispered something, but he was too far away to hear.

  And then, to his horror, the fire drifted down to smoldering ash and then died.

  In the distance, a strange beast roared.

  “Mathis!” he shouted, leaping out of the tent with sword in hand. He stumbled over a root, his vision worthless in the sudden darkness. His knee smacked against a rock, and he hissed in air as his eyes watered. A glance to the sky showed only a barely visible blanket of clouds. It seemed even starlight was denied to them. Another roar rolled down the mountain, closer, louder.

  “Russ!” he heard Mathis scream. Hoping against hope, he approached the center of their camp and spun. The darkness was too thick. He couldn’t see anything approach, be it bear, puma, or creature far worse. They needed a fire. They needed light. Disorientated, he looked for his tent and his supplies within. It sounded like the commotion had awoken Dan, and he heard his scared cries nearby. He followed the sound, and then cursed as his face struck the poles of his tent.

  “It’s dark!” Dan wailed from inside.

  “It’s all right, buddy,” Jerek said as he slipped inside, his hands fumbling in the darkness. “We’ll be fine. Can you be calm for me, Dan? Can you be strong?”

  He received no answer, just more whimpering. The sound stabbed his gut, but he did his best to ignore it. His hands brushed across his pack, and a grin spread across his face despite his fear. He yanked out the two black bricks, trusting their magic to save him. His elation didn’t last long.

  A brutal cry came from the other tent, coupled with a fierce roar. It was like that of an enormous cat, but deeper, angrier. The sound of steel striking steel rang through the camp. Knowing his time was short, Jerek lunged out from the tent, dropping his sword so he could grab a brick in each hand. He rushed to the dead fire, flung his arms wide, and then slamm
ed the bricks together.

  Showers of sparks rained down as another pained scream erupted from nearby. The fire roared back to life, and in its light Jerek retrieved his sword. The creature roared one last time, and Jerek looked but could not find it. Mathis stood beside his tent, his clothing shredded and torn. Blood dripped from several wounds across his chest, and he wiped at another long gash across his forehead. His sword hung limp in his grasp.

  “Russ,” he said, falling to his knees before the entrance to his tent. “Gods, why?”

  Jerek glanced inside, then wished he hadn’t. Russ’s throat was torn open, blood splattered everywhere. Dan’s sobs continued, and at their sound guilt pierced his chest. He returned to his own tent and flung it open. Whispering softly, he knelt and wrapped his arms around the big man, who continued whimpering.

  “We’re fine now,” he insisted. “Everything’s fine. The light’s back. Be a strong man, no crying. We’re safe. Safe. You believe me?”

  “I don’t believe you,” Dan cried.

  “We’re safe, I promise.”

  “Yeah, but I…but I still don’t believe you.”

  Despite his words, his tears were starting to slow. Jerek hugged him tight, then punched him in the shoulder.

  “Big guy like you,” he said. “What are you scared of? You could wallop a tree and make it fall.”

  Dan grinned even as snot ran from his nose.

  “Now you’re being silly.”

  “Damn straight. Now get yourself cleaned up and back to bed, all right?”

  Jerek left the tent and looked about, feeling confused and frightened. What in the Abyss was going on? He looked back to Mathis, who cried beside the body of his brother as he held his daughter in his arms.

  His daughter…

  He approached, his knuckles white as he clutched the hilt of his sword. Mathis wrapped his arms tighter around Mira, as if he sensed his anger.

  “She did this,” Jerek said, pointing with the tip of his blade.

  “She’s just a girl,” Mathis insisted.

  “I saw her!” Jerek shouted, louder than he intended. “She raised her damn arms and then the fire went out. What’s going on? Whatever is…whatever did that” – he pointed toward Russ’s body – “she helped it. You understand? She helped it.”