The Mists of Sorrow_ Book Seven of the Morcyth Saga - Brian S. Pratt [229]
“Why did you stop?” James asks as he comes to stand besides him. Then he looks to where Jiron is pointing.
Across the room from where they stand, lies a seat made entirely out of bones, some human, others not. On either side of the dark throne are two braziers burning with a purplish glow which seems to suck the warmth from them even from halfway across the room.
“It’s the seat of Ozgirath,” Brother Willim states, “the High Priest of Dmon-Li. We are in the Hall of Despair.”
“Where is he?” Jiron asks.
“I would think he would be wherever Tinok is,” he replies.
Eeeeeek!
All of a sudden the air is filled with Hikuli. They screech as they swoop down and begin raking them with their razor sharp claws. Each strike brings pain like acid.
Miko draws his sword and begins attempting to strike them out of the air, but they move so fast, that even with his speed he misses as often as not.
“The Star!” yells James as he pulls forth his medallion. “Use the Star!”
As Miko pulls forth the Star, its light shines brilliantly. For the first time in time unknown, light dispels the dark in the Hall of Despair.
The creatures pull back some distance and hover. Chittering among themselves, they shriek and hiss at the companions they are no longer able to come near.
James sees Brother Willim kneeling on the floor and is arranging a circle of leaves. “What are you doing?” he asks.
“Making a Vyrilyzk,” he replies. Once the leaves are in their proper position, he begins talking softly and quietly.
“What’s he doing?” asks Jiron. “We have to get to Tinok.”
James turns back to Brother Willim to tell him that they have to move on when he sees a small creature that looks remarkably like a garden gnome standing within the Vyrilyzk. “An earth spirit?” he asks in surprise. Brother Willim ignores the question. Instead he keeps his attention focused on the earth spirit and points to the Hikuli hovering in the air.
The earth spirit looks up and sees them there. The expression on the earth spirit’s face changes to what can only be called hate. Disappearing for only a second, it reappears a moment later. Launching itself upward, it grabs hold of a Hikuli and the two creatures start clawing each other as the earth spirit drags the Hikuli to the ground. Then from out of the Vyrilyzk more earth spirits begin boiling into the room, each one launching itself at a Hikuli. The Hikuli in turn screech as they attack the earth spirits.
Brother Willim stands up and turns to the others. “Their enmity for the Hikuli is older than time,” he explains. Soon the air is empty of Hikuli as scores of battle-locked creatures writhe upon the floor. Still more of the earth spirits boil forth from the Vyrilyzk to join the fray.
“Let’s go,” he says to James and Jiron. “They’ll take care of them for us.”
Jiron gives him a grin and a nod. Then turns to follow James’ sphere where it is again moving across the Hall of Despair toward the opening of another corridor.
Ozgirath stands before the crystal that’s aglow with power being channeled to it from temples both within the Empire and without. Every temple is sacrificing slaves and sending the power here to Ith-Zirul, for what he’s about to do requires an incredible amount of magic.
The time for his lord to come has arrived. Ages have been spent in preparation of this moment. Plans that began centuries past have at last come to fruition. All is in ready. The six Gygnai from the home plane of Dmon-Li stand within the circles of power, two slaves who will give their lives to complete the ritual lie before each of them.
As he summons the enormous reservoir of power within himself, Ozgirath sends it forth. One by one he envelopes the Gygnai with the power and activates the magical symbols engraved in the floor about them. The symbols flare with a dark radiance as they begin absorbing power contained within the glowing crystal. When all six of Gygnai are fully intertwined in his magic, they bend down and grab the men lying before them, one in each hand.