“The valley of Neraka,” Rhys replied.
The kender gasped, his eyes going round. “Neraka? The Neraka? The Neraka where the Dark Queen built her dark temple and was going to enter the world? I remember that story! There was a guy with a green jewel in his chest who murdered his sister, only she forgave him and her spirit blocked the Dark Queen’s entry, and she lost the war and the brother came back to his sister and together they blew up the temple and… and this is it!” Nightshade stopped to stare with excitement into one of the black monoliths. “These ugly rocks are pieces of Takhisis’ temple!”
“Mina!” Rhys called out to her.
She didn’t seem to hear him. She was staring fixedly at the rock, seemingly mesmerized. Rhys slowed his pace. He didn’t want to startle or alarm her by accosting her suddenly, without warning.
Meanwhile Nightshade was mulling things over. “Neraka had something to do with the War of Souls, too. That war started when Takhisis became the One God and she was going to keep all the souls imprisoned here. Poor souls. I spoke to a good many of them, you know, Rhys. I was glad for them when the war was over and they were finally free to depart, though the graveyard was awfully lonely after that…”
“Mina,” called Rhys softly.
Motioning for Nightshade to keep back, Rhys walked slowly toward her. The kender caught hold of Atta and both of them stopped, both of them panting in the thin air.
“Neraka. War of Souls. Neraka,” Nightshade muttered. “Oh, yes, now I remember it all! Neraka was where the war started and… Omigod! Rhys!” he shouted. “This is where Mina came to start the War of Souls! Takhisis sent her out of the storm…”
Rhys made a stern, emphatic gesture, and Nightshade gulped and fell silent.
“I guess he already knew that,” the kender said and put his arms around Atta’s neck and held onto her tightly-just in case the dog was scared.
Rhys came up to stand behind Mina.
“Who is she?” Mina demanded, frightened. She pointed at her reflection in the black crystal.
Rhys’ breath caught in his throat. He could not speak. The Mina that stood beside him was the child, Mina, with long red braids and freckles on her nose and guileless eyes of amber. The Mina reflected in the black crystal was the woman of the soul-imprisoning amber eyes, the warrior woman who had been born in this valley, the woman who had worshipped the One God, the Dark God, Takhisis.
Mina flung herself in sudden fury at the black rock, kicking it and beating it with her fists.
Rhys seized hold of her. The sharp rock had already cut her hand. Blood trailed down her arm. He hauled her back from the rock. She jerked free of his grip and stood panting and glaring at the rock, and wiped the blood from her cut onto her dress.
“Why does that woman stare at me like that? I don’t like her! What has she done with me?” Mina cried in anguish.
Rhys tried to soothe her, but he was shaken himself by the sight of the hard-faced, amber-eyed woman gazing back at them from the black crystal.
“Woo boy,” said Nightshade. Coming up to stand beside Rhys, the kender stared at Mina, then he stared at the reflection in the crystal monolith and rubbed his eyes and scratched his head. “Woo boy,” he said again.
Shaking his head in perplexity, he turned to Rhys.
“I hate to add to our problems, especially since they appear to be real doozies, but you should probably know that there’s a large group of minotaur soldiers up on that ridge.”
The kender squinted, shaded his eyes with his hand. “And I know this sounds strange, Rhys, but I think they have an elf with them.”
5
Galdar was plagued by ghosts. Not ghosts of the dead, as during the War of Souls. Ghosts of himself, of his own dead past. Here, in Neraka, Mina had walked into this valley and into his life and forever changed him. He had not been in the valley since that night which had been both terrible and wonderful. He had not been back in Neraka until now, and he was not happy to return. Time had healed the wound The scar tissue had grown over his stump. But his memories ached and throbbed and tormented him like the pain of his phantom arm.
“The dwarves call this place Gamasbinoch,” Galdar said. “It means ‘Song of Death’. Guess they don’t call it that now, ’cause the singing’s stopped, Sargas be praised,” he added.
He talked to the only person with him-Valthonis-and Galdar wasn’t talking to Valthonis because he enjoyed conversing with the elf. The racial hatred between minotaur and elves went back centuries, and Galdar saw no reason why the hatred shouldn’t last a few more. As for this elf being the ‘Walking God’, Galdar had himself been witness to the transformation so he knew the tale was true. What he didn’t understand was why everyone was making such a fuss over him. So he’d once been a god? What of it? He was a man now and had to take a crap in the woods like everyone else.
Galdar was mainly talking because he had to talk or else listen to the eerie silence that blanketed the valley. At that, Galdar had to admit the silence was better than that horrible singing they’d heard when he’d last been here. The lamenting souls of the dead had finally departed.
Galdar and Valthonis entered the valley alone; Galdar having ordered his men to stay on the ridge. His soldiers protested the decision. They even dared to argue with him, and no minotaur ever argued with his commanding officer. If Galdar insisted upon entering this accursed valley, his men wanted to come with him.
The minotaur soldiers admired Galdar. He was plain-speaking and blunt, and they liked that in a commander. He shared their hardships, and he made no secret of the fact that he didn’t like this assignment any better than they did, especially coming to the accursed valley of Neraka.
Takhisis had been Sargas’ consort, but there had been no love lost between them. Her favored race, the ogres, had long been enemies of the minotaur, at one time enslaving and brutalizing them. Sargas had pleaded their cause, but she had laughed at him and mocked him and his minotaur race. She was now dead and gone, or so people claimed. The minotaurs did not trust Takhisis, however. She’d been banished once by Huma Dragonbane and she’d come back. She might rise again, and no one wanted to walk the dark valley where she had once reigned.
“If you’re not back by noon, we’re coming in to get you, sir,” stated his second-in-command, and the other minotaurs raised their voices in agreement.
“No, you won’t,” Galdar said, glaring around at them. “If I’m not back by sunset, return to Jarek. Make your report to the priests of Sargas.”
“And what do we say, sir?” his second demanded.
“That I did as Sargas commanded,” Galdar answered proudly.
His men understood him, and though they did not like it, they no longer argued. They left the ridge and returned to the foothills, to while away the time with a game of bones, in which none took much pleasure.
Galdar and the elf continued making their way down what was left of a road. Galdar wondered if it was the road he’d walked that night, the night of the storm, the night of Mina. He didn’t recognize it, but that wasn’t surprising. He’d gone out of his way to try to forget that nightmarish march.
“I first came here with a patrol the night of the great storm,” Galdar explained as they left the road and entered the valley. “We didn’t know it at the time, but the storm was Takhisis, announcing to the world that the One God was back and this time she meant to have it all. We were under the command of Talon Leader Maggit, a bully and a coward, the sort of commander that would always run from a battle, only to pull some stupid stunt to try prove how brave he was and get half his men killed in the process.”