Darkwell - Douglas Niles [108]
"Speak, man! Why have you interrupted us?"
"Your kingship," the man stammered, his voice barely a croak. The others in the room turned in astonishment, amazed at the impudence of the intruder. "S-Sailing into the bay, even now approaching the docks… It's…" His voice trailed away, and he looked pleadingly at his king.
"Tell us!" roared Grunnarch the Red. "What manner of ship do you see? What flag does it fly?"
"No flag, sire… no flag at all. And it is – I should say it isn't…" His voice died, and it was clearly a great effort to speak. "Sire, it isn't a ship at all, though it sails across the water with speed and purpose.
"It is a castle!"
* * * * *
The gradual descent to the shore of Myrloch passed easily for the companions. The snow crunched underfoot, packing into a solid path for the second and subsequent companions, and once again the group alternated the lead.
Once they passed another of the great, smoking fissures that commonly marred the ground of the vale. This one, a gaping slash more than a hundred feet long, issued gouts of colorful smoke and noxious gas, but not as constantly as did the freshly formed crevasses. They skirted the gap carefully, giving it a wide margin and noting that it must be a source of heat, for the snow had melted back from the edge on all sides.
Finally they stood upon the shore of the great lake, amid snow-covered boulders. The dark water lapped at the fringes of the stones, in stark contrast to the whiteness of the land all around them.
Dead fish floated, belly up, along the visible length of the shore. Long tendrils of sick-looking weeds snaked through the water, brown and putrid in visible evidence of the pollution. Robyn turned suddenly away from the lake, unable to look at it.
"Yuk!" Newt commented, hovering over the water and looking down.
"Let's go" urged Tristan. Even he was repulsed by the look of this lake that had, all of his life, symbolized pristine natural beauty. "This way."
He led them to the right, following the shoreline but remaining a short distance from the water to avoid the rocks that prevented easy passage near the lake. As it was, they were able to pick a relatively smooth and unobstructed path.
"Look. Sticky stuff!" It was Yak who called their attention to the water after they had walked along the shore for half a mile or so.
"What is that?" Tavish wondered aloud, seeing the patch of black slime atop the water that had caught the firbolg's attention.
"Looks like more tar." Tristan stepped to the water's edge, but he didn't need to touch the stuff to confirm his identification. "It seems to be seeping up from the bottom."
"Let's go!" Robyn's voice, nearly a shriek, startled them all. "Let's get away from here!" She started into the lead, desperate to escape the growing evidence of desecration.
Finally they made out the gaunt outlines of leafless trees, a dark line on the horizon before them. The scene was heartbreakingly bleak, but Tristan found it a relief to have some kind of physical goal before them – anything but the awful monotony of the snow-covered fields and blackened water that had surrounded them for so long.
And, too, he knew that somewhere within those woods awaited their destination.
They all quickened their pace unconsciously, and gradually the distant mass of the forest became individual trees. The wood was as bleak and desolate as any other in the vale. Even the snow covering the branches of the trees did not alleviate the bleakness of the scene. If anything, it served to highlight the death of the forest.
Tristan again took the lead, heading toward the wood on a path that veered slightly away from the shore, when he heard Robyn approach from behind.
"Do you feel anything strange?" she asked.
He stopped and looked around, wondering what she meant. His eyes were drawn to the forest, to the still trees and the barren, snowy ground. As he stared, he felt a prickling along the nape of his neck.
"Yes, I do. It's like something is staring