They came to another stream. Beyond it, cresting a low ridge, several shapes were materialising, vague at first, but gradually forming. They were the color of earth, darkened by the night, hunched like men, their faces no more than smudges, but they had mouths and they gave voice now, speaking barely above a whisper.
“Welcome, strangers. You seem at pains to quit our lands, though you have barely arrived. Yonder, in the city, there is sanctuary, refreshment. Will you not rest with us?”
Already the shapes were coalescing into more tangible form until their transformation was complete. A dozen tall beings, dressed in rich robes, emerged from their shadow cocoons and smiled down at them.
Vaddi was too chilled by their presence to speak, but he sensed instinctively that these creatures were vampires.
“Keep still,” said Cellester. “They’ll not cross the water.”
He was proven right in this, for the shapes came down to the far edge of the stream and halted, their eyes glancing down at it hesitantly, then away. But they smiled, and in their faces was a deceptive warmth, the promise of succor.
To Vaddi’s horror, Cellester held out his hand. “We are pleased to be your guests. Come, cross the stream and take my hand as a token of our friendship.”
The being that had spoken drew back, for to reach out to take the cleric’s hand would have meant stretching across the stream. Instead the unblinking eyes regarded Cellester coolly.
“You do not trust us. We understand. The lands are full of danger.”
“Step across the water.”
“We cannot,” sighed the creature. “It is a sorry tale. We are under an ancient enchantment. We are not allowed to leave the boundary of our city. The springs and rivers close us in. Jealous mages of old trapped us here.”
“What is the name of your city?” said Cellester.
“Voorkesh.”
Cellester had not let his gaze move from the beings across the stream, but he felt Nyam nudge him the ribs. He leaned toward him as the peddler at last found his voice.
“Beyond us, up in the rocks,” he whispered. “More things are stirring. Not everything is on the other side of the stream. This is a trap.”
Cellester bowed politely to the men. “We thank you, but our mission is urgent. We cannot linger. But on our return, perhaps we will visit Voorkesh.”
With that he moved off down the bank, Nyam and Vaddi on his heels. From across the stream there came a hiss, rising shrilly. The vampires were already writhing, shifting, and changing into something not human. But they did not pursue, turning into shadow once more and sinking back into the earth. Cellester urged his companions to hurry.
They rounded a curve in the stream and found themselves at the head of a long, wider valley that fell into deeper darkness below them, where the stream fed a river that cut across part of the valley before plunging over a small fall on its way to the distant plains. Higher up the valley they could see Voorkesh much more clearly. Although night had dropped like a blanket over the mountains and the fields of rock debris, the ruins of the city were lit from below in a hellish green glow.
“We must cross the river,” said Cellester, drawing his blade and uncovering his amulet. “Pray that the water will hold them back.”
Vaddi pulled out his sword, but his free hand closed around the wrappings of the horn. If it had served to ward off Caerzaal and his undead, surely it would work against whatever haunted this realm.
As one the group came to an abrupt halt. Below them in the valley, daubed in a pale wash from the moons, something flowed across the broken terrain, amorphous shapes thickening into greater substance, drawing on the primal energies that throbbed up from the depths of their nightmare home. They slithered down to the broken valley floor and came upward hungrily, silent but redolent with menace. Huge, bloated shapes, writhing with tentacles, dragged themselves forward beside aerial horrors with great bat-like wings, claws unfurling, long tails whipping from side to side, poison dripping from numerous stings. Like a massive wave, this revolting legion rose up, eager to suck up into its embrace the three exposed figures.
“The river!” shouted Nyam, as they closed with its bank. “How do we cross it?”
The three of them stood a few yards from it, staring in horror at the raging torrent, for it was no stream, but a fast flowing, tumbling fury. Its waters churned in a gorge thirty feet below them, smashing into the rocks that poked up from its deep bed, white foam bursting skywards. It promised a quick death.
Cellester was looking downstream. The monstrous pursuit was gathering itself, a huge oncoming wave ready to engulf them. From its seething mass a single creature hovered forward, one solitary, malefic eye glaring at the fugitives, a mouth the size of a house opening to reveal a tunnel of scythe-like teeth. The cleric directed a bolt of white light into it, and as it splashed over the interior of that nightmare gut, the creature’s eye bulged horribly before the whole monstrous shape burst, filling the air with sickly green light.
The wall of horrors paused for only a moment. Twisted limbs and claws groped for their prey, and the wave surged again, about to fall.
“This way!” Vaddi shouted, racing up along the precarious bank of the river. “There’s a bridge!”
They raced for the bridge. It was partly down, but there was enough of a span to risk a crossing. Time had wasted the construction, cracked its arch and removed several of its stones. Vaddi dared not look back. He dashed on to the bridge. Beneath him something groaned and he knew that stone had tumbled into the raging white waters below. Even so he went on to the center of the span. There was a gap at the apex of the bridge, but terror spurred him, and he leaped across. More stonework crumbled and he thought he was doomed to plunge into the river, but he shifted his balance and flung himself forward.
On all fours, he turned. The wall of living nightmare flowed to within mere yards of his companions. The fang-filled mouths of abominations were almost closing over them, while in the maelstrom above them, scores of lunatic faces glared down, eager for the kill, but Nyam and Cellester made it to the bridge. Vaddi backed off, encouraging them to leap. They had no choice. Nyam came over and Vaddi caught his wrist, dragging him to safety as more stonework collapsed.
Cellester jumped, rolling forward, managing to hold his arm and the amulet aloft. The bridge was shaking as if in an earthquake as the monstrous tide surged forward, trying to funnel itself on to the narrow span of the bridge. The noise it made, its scores of mouths screaming, was deafening, the air filled with a thunderous cacophony of noise. Cellester waved the others back and they scrambled like crabs to the far side of the span.
The cleric backed slowly along the bridge, using the light from his talisman to keep the creatures at bay. The huge, amorphous mass hanging fifty feet over him paused, unwilling or unable to approach the holy light. Then the bridge went down, the whole of it collapsing, stone by stone. Cellester scrambled back to its far side, barely ahead of the gaping hole. Vaddi and Nyam reached for him and dragged him to safety. Opposite them, numerous creatures ripped from the writhing mass and wheeled out into emptiness before hitting the racing waters. There they exploded in bloody froth. The press of bodies forced more and more of the horrors over the edge of the bank. They slid and slithered, tumbled and plummeted, their screams and shrieks appalling.
“There’s a narrow path!” said Vaddi, pointing to the ledge that had been hacked out of the gorge’s side. It led up the valley into darkness.
Cellester nodded and the three of them wormed their way along it, while opposite them the shrieking of the monstrous tide showed no sign of diminishing.
Overhead, clouds piled together to shut out light from the moons. All that they had now to guide them was a faint glow from the cleric’s amulet. Behind them they heard a cracking of stone and a sudden rumble. The path had collapsed, like the bridge. The only way now was up the narrowing gorge. A massive wall of rock rose at its head, the foaming waters of the river bursting out of it as if from the mouth of an immense stone structure. The path itself was swallowed by another black opening.