Just beneath her, Parr offered an almost continuous stream of supportive, and at times not supportive, encouragement for her to continue. It was those times when her progress slowed that Parr’s encouragement grew less encouraging, and more vocal.

  They could still hear Lord Michael’s efforts to buy them time from far below. Each blow that rang out gave her hope in the baron’s survival, something that deep in her heart she knew could never be.

  “We should be above ground by now,” Parr was saying. “We had to have climbed higher than the opening back in that cavern.”

  Breya didn’t know, all she cared about was maintaining her pace. Her whole world was focused on raising her arm to the next rung and fighting through the pain to raise herself just a little bit farther.

  As if to prove his words true, a cool breeze suddenly came from above bringing with it the scent of life. Upon that breeze came the odors of trees, flowers, and a touch of something else that while not unpleasant, wasn’t familiar.

  “The sea,” announced Parr. “We’re near the sea.”

  “The sea?” Breya was shocked, for her farm had been nowhere near the water.

  “Most definitely,” replied Parr. “We should be close to the top.”

  And sure enough, the ladder soon came to an end at a small room. Less than twenty feet across, its four walls each held three open, arched open areas through which the night wind blew. One of them was elongated more than the others and appeared to be the way from the room.

  As Breya emerged through the shaft’s opening, light from the moon fell upon her as it shone through one of the openings. “We made it,” she stated.

  “Great,” replied Parr. “Don’t stop now.”

  Realizing she had paused at the top rung to enjoy the feeling of the wind rustling her hair, she quickly climbed the rest of the way. Parr quickly scrambled out afterward.

  Though the wind made her shiver, Breya felt exhilarated as she took in deep breathes as it washed over her. They were out!

  Parr went to an opening and looked out. The room was situated atop a crag overlooking a dark edifice from which numerous spires rose some hundred feet below. It looked like a castle or keep. Nestled in shadows as it was, it didn’t appear as if anyone was home.

  From the elongated opening, a series of steps progressed down the cliff face. “I guess we take these,” observed Parr.

  Breya turned toward him and nodded. Then, moving back to the mouth of the shaft from which they had recently emerged, she gazed down sadly. “So close.”

  “What?” Coming to her side, Parr laid an arm gently around her shoulder, ever mindful of her wound.

  “He almost made it.”

  “Yes, I know,” he said softly. “But we mustn’t linger.”

  She nodded. Then as she looked down the shaft one last time, a tear fell from her face into the dark depths below.

  Four demons lay unmoving upon the floor. A fifth’s talons sought his flesh.

  His initial burst of energy was rapidly waning. Talons shot forward only to be battered aside at the last possible moment. Sweat streamed down his face and his arms felt leaden.

  He had accomplished far more than anticipated when he disengaged from Breya’s embrace and moved to meet these demons. Four destroyed, precious time saved in which she and Parr could flee, only, he wished his last embrace had been that of his fair, Anea.

  A roar from the large demon brought his reverie to an end. Frustrated at the little human who had stood against his minions for so long, the demon batted aside the sixth smaller one and approached.

  Lord Michael saw his approach and knew his end was nigh. A final burst of speed sent the tip of his now much abused sword to shatter the glowing gem of the fifth demon. As the gem exploded and the demon fell, Lord Michael slowly backed away.

  The malevolence of the creature was palpable. Silencing the fear which sought to consume his will, Lord Michael raised his sword. “Come creature. My blade is thirsting for you!”

  Roaring savagely, the demon charged.

  “Trellar Doon!”

  The steps were narrow and progressed steeply down the cliff face. Parr kept close to Breya, holding her hand to ensure that her balance was well maintained. The structure below gradually grew clearer the farther they descended. It was definitely a castle or keep of some kind. Encompassed by a large wall, it looked to have been built to withstand attack.

  There were no lights in evidence. The odors of smoke, jakes, or anything which would indicate the presence of others were distressingly absent. Its isolation and emptiness only made it all the more eerie.

  “Easy there,” Parr said as Breya stumbled upon an uneven step. “You don’t want to fall.”

  She shook her head. In the darkness, it was difficult to see precisely how far they were from the bottom. The torch Parr held didn’t illuminate quite that far.

  A step at a time, that’s what they concentrated on. Work to descend a little bit farther, all the while keeping their balance against the sudden gusts of wind blowing in from off the water.

  Ever present upon their minds was the question of when the demons would appear on the cliff behind them. The longer it took, the farther down the steps they would be. Breya fervently wished that they would long be absent from this harrowing descent at that time.

  Off in the distance, the moon danced across the waves as they approached the shore. Barely heard above the wind was their crashing upon the beach. In the faint light coming from above, they could make out a forest of trees encompassing the keep nestled against the cliffside below.

  The steps finally came to an end at a small courtyard on a projection of the hill that towered over most of the keep. Only the keep’s tall spires were higher. A wall taller than either of them enclosed the courtyard from which dark, vacant windows stood as silent sentinels. Demonic statuary similar to those encountered earlier, and a single dead tree, were the courtyard’s only occupants.

  Torchlight fell upon a single exit some thirty feet away in the wall opposite them as Parr stepped from the final step. He couldn’t help but glance up to the cliff far above, toward the place from which they had emerged, for sign of their pursuers.

  Breya too looked and sighed relief when the tell-tale glow of the demons was absent. “I fear Lord Michael may not have made it.”

  Shaking his head, Parr replied, “No. He was a brave man.”

  “None braver.” Wiping away a tear, she accompanied Parr across the courtyard to the exit. On the way, they passed near to one of the demonic statues. But unlike the ones from before, these gave off no sense of awareness or hatred. They were naught but figures carved of stone. She had Parr pause momentarily and had him move his torch closer to the statue’s front. There was no indentation wherein one of the hexagonal coins with gems could be placed. For some reason, that gave her comfort.

  “We mustn’t tarry,” urged Parr. Lord Michael had to have fallen by now. That last was left unspoken in difference to how Breya would react. Urging her with a gentle nudge, he led her to the exit.

  A winding series of steps open to the elements descended from the courtyard. These were crafted much better than those they had recently traversed down the cliff face. Wide, smooth, and evenly spaced, the pair made quick work of them.

  At the bottom, they entered another courtyard, this one much larger. Tall walls of the keep bordered the courtyard on three sides with the cliff to their backs. The dark façades watched silently as the pair made their way across toward one of four passageways leading into the heart of the keep.

  Two began in the wall on their left, another to their right, but it was toward the one directly across from where they emerged from the winding steps that Parr led her. “I think this is the most direct way to the keep’s gate,” he explained.

  “Why do you think that?” Each passageway disappeared into the walls of the keep. To her, one seemed as good as another.

  “Just a feeling. It feels right.”

  “If you say so,” she replied.

  The mouth of the passage grew before them as they crossed the deserted courtyard. “I wonder if this used to be a market area at one time? Perhaps a place where those who once dwelt here could come and be free of the confines within the keep?”

  “I could see that,” agreed Parr. Gesturing over to a corner to their right, he added, “Maybe a minstrel or group of actors would perform over there.”

  “And someone with an animal act. At the Autumn Festival, there was always this man with a dancing dog.”

  “Dancing Dog?”

  She nodded. “It would twirl and hop from one foot to the other. You probably think it silly, but when you’re out on a farm for most of the year, it’s exciting.”

  “I would never think it silly. Truth be told, my fancy has always been for the jugglers. The way they would keep numerous items in the air at the same time seemed almost like magic. Why, there was this one man who would have the kids toss these balls at him. Of course, they always tried to throw them so as to hit him in the head. But each time, he caught the ball and added it to the number in the air about him. Quite fascinating.”

  “Did you?”

  “What? Try to hit him?”

  Breya nodded.

  Parr chuckled. “Of course. Me and a friend threw two at the same time; I to his head, and my friend toward his, well, you know.”

  “And did you get him?”

  “Nope. My ball he snagged out of the air before it even came close. The one to his nethers was intercepted by his knee, causing it to fly straight up into the air. When it came back down, he caught it with a grin and added it to his already impressive act.”

  “Incredible.”

  “It was.”

  Reminiscence of times past displaced the worry of the present. But such was not long to last. As they reached the entrance to the passageway, an explosion sounded far up the cliff face behind them. Turning, they saw objects soaring across the backdrop of the night sky. Blocks of stone, ranging from the very small to the quite massive, began to fall. Where the small room had once been, the place where Breya and Parr had emerged from the shaft, stood the demon. Aglow in hellish light, it roared.

  Until seeing this hellish creature atop the crag, Breya had held a small kernel of hope that Lord Michael might have in some way overcome the demon. But now, she knew the baron was no more. Her hand was taken by Parr and together, rushed headlong into the passageway.

  “We’ll never escape it,” she moaned.

  “Remember what Lord Michael once said? As long as there is life, there is hope. We aren’t about to give up yet.”

  The passageway extended straight past other smaller branchings and doorways leading into rooms as devoid of life and accouterments as the courtyard outside. Other than a brief look in passing, Parr continued past. The passageway they were currently traveling through appeared to be the one of the keep’s major arteries, and as such, their best chance of reaching the main gates and freedom.

  Their footsteps echoed through the vacant halls as they fled for their lives. Frequent glances behind showed the demon had yet to enter the passageway in pursuit. Then from out of the darkness ahead, the torchlight fell upon a wide, stately staircase leading to the level below.

  Parr didn’t hesitate. Dragging Breya along behind, he took the steps in rapid fashion. Upon reaching the corridor at the bottom, he paused by a window and looked out. Below lay the forecourt of the keep and the great curtain wall beyond. Leaning out, he saw that they would have to descend another level before they would be able to reach it.

  “We need to find another stair,” he announced. Leaving the window, he led Breya down the corridor. Pausing briefly at each passageway and each room, he briefly scanned their interior for a way to the floor below. When one wasn’t in evidence, he would continue on.

  The demon’s roar shook the walls and startled Breya so badly that she took a misstep. Falling to the floor, she fearfully looked back to the staircase, afraid of what she would see. But of the demon there was no sign.

  “It’s in the keep,” said Parr. Lending her a hand, he helped her back to her feet.

  Breya shivered in fear. “Thank you.”

  “Let’s find the way out and get the heck out of here.”

  “I’m in total agreement.” Moving off, they continued running down the corridor.

  Not far past, one of their brief pauses to inspect a room for a way to the floor below uncovered a narrow, winding stairwell leading down. “Shall we take it?” asked Breya.

  As if in answer, the raging demon’s roar again reverberated through the halls of the keep. “Yes.” Leaving the passageway, he led the way into the room.

  The room was not like the others. This one had an old wooden table, two chairs, and a chandelier that had seen better days. Such furnishings seemed out of place when the rest of the keep had been but bare stone and dust. In passing, Breya reached out to touch the table only to have it collapse with only the barest hint of pressure being applied. Snatching her hand back, she hurried to catch Parr who had already reached the steps and was making his way down.

  Twice the steps curved in their narrow spiral before ending at the room below. “Now,” began Parr as he left the stairwell and entered the room, “all we need to do is find a way from the keep.” Then across the fore court to the gates and they would be out of there!

  No sooner had he stepped from the stairwell than a blinding explosion of illumination flashed within the room before them. Breya screamed. The sudden onslaught of light caused dots to dance before his eyes. Rubbing them with the forearm of the hand holding the torch, Parr sought to clear his vision.

  “Welcome humans,” said a cheery, friendly voice. “It is so very nice to see you.”

  When his vision cleared, he couldn’t believe his eyes. Rubbing them again failed to alter that which he saw in the room before them. It was a man, or at least he might have believed it was a man if the being before him wasn’t quite so translucent.

  It was dressed in bright blue pantaloons with a shirt to match, a handlebar mustache that extended a good five inches to either side before ending in an upward curl reminiscent of a pig’s tail, and bore a smile both friendly and inviting. All in all, very comical.

  “Yes, uh, nice to see you too.” In a quiet aside to Breya, Parr whispered, “Back up, slowly.”

  “Now, now, you don’t want to leave. No, that is something you do not wish to do. Of course, I suppose you could leave, nothing to stop you, no nothing at all. And there is always that possibility that you would wish to leave and not get what I have to offer. But that would be foolish, yes, very foolish indeed.”

  “What are you?” asked Breya. There was something about this being that put her at ease like nothing else had since she first awoke to find herself no longer in her own bed.

  “Why, I am a Guardian don’t you know. Although, seeing as how you asked me what I was, I suppose that would mean you do not know what I am. And that is strange you see, as I am only here to serve those who pass through. But then, maybe you are not passing through. By the way your man is encouraging you to leave, perhaps you have merely stepped in, then out. Yes, that may be a more accurate description of what you are doing. Not passing through I mean.”

  “You have something to offer?” asked Parr, now that he stood on the bottom step and it seemed Breya wasn’t about to be encouraged to ascend the steps any farther.

  “Yes indeed, my dear. Dear, is that the correct form of address for one of your kind? Female kind, I mean? I’m sure you are aware that I was not trying to imply you were any sort of woodland animal. I can understand how such a misunderstanding could arise and I would not wish to cause any sort of emotional trauma upon you.”

  “Dear is correct,” replied Breya, a bit confused by this being’s odd behavior.

  “You said something about having something to offer?”

  “Of course I did. What kind of Guardian would I be if I didn’t have something to offer? You know, I think I did hear about this one Guardian who had nothing to offer. Why he didn’t have anything is beyond me. After all, once a Guardian relinquishes that which they are guarding, you can’t really call them Guardians any longer can you? I suppose one could continue calling one’s self a Guardian, even after their item is gone, but why?” Gazing toward Breya he asked, “Can you think of a reason to remain a Guardian once you’ve given away your treasure?”

  “Treasure?” asked Parr.

  “Hmmm?” Returning his attention to Parr, the being seemed to suddenly remember what was being said. “Oh, treasure, right. Yes. You see each Guardian, guards a treasure. I don’t know if you figured that out or not, seeing as how I am a Guardian and all, and Guardians guard treasure, that I have a treasure which I am guarding. That is why I’m called a Guardian, in case you didn’t know.”

  Parr rolled his eyes. “We did figure that out.”

  “What treasure are you guarding?”

  “I suppose most wouldn’t call it treasure in the strictest form of the word. It’s neither gold, gems, nor anything like that. In fact, one might actually think of it as a non-treasure since it really is nothing that anyone would even remotely consider as valuable. But, is the color of a rose valuable? Is the sight of a fluffy white cloud floating by on a summer’s day valuable? If you consider such of value, then perhaps my treasure may be considered a treasure by the two of you.”

  “Exactly what is your treasure and are you here to give it to us?”

  The being took on a shocked, and slightly put-off expression. “Give it to you? Surely you jest? A Guardian does not simply, give, away their treasure. Not only would that be foolish, but a breaking of the rules you see. There are very strict guidelines which must be observed before a Guardian can relinquish their treasure. Very strict indeed. Do you know what would happen to a Guardian who violated the rules in such a way?”

 

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