The Slayarians - Book One by JM Barnes (the best electronic book reader .TXT) 📕

live unhindered by them.
“No, Galen! It has what I need. Speak your peace Jvar and be as honest as your crooked tongue will allow.” He replied.
Finishing his grooming Jvar smiled and said, “This stone construct is a doorway to an underground complex. Created long ago by an unknown mage, many creatures now call its depths home. There are two other entrances. One is controlled by a young dragon of which I’d stay clear if you value your lives. It lies to the south and is marked well before its underground opening at a tunnel mouth with a huge yellow eye. The other entrance is held by a deep dwelling race that is called the Bealrotti. They are a fierce race with protruding muzzles and fur covered bodies. They are skilled with weapons and are quite numerous so beware them as well. I tell you these things because you could serve me by retrieving one of the few artifacts that lies hidden in the depths below. I seek the spear of Bailick. I know its general location so you must merely avoid the monsters below and bring it back to me. Simple, no?”
“Yes, strange one, it sounds too simple to be possible.” Galen mocked.
“Well, I must do as you ask Jvar. In return you’ll restore my memories and also explain your words about my abilities.” Darkon couldn’t believe his luck!
Three months ago Galen and he had left Havoctown to find adventure and hoped to find a cure for his problem. Even though priests and medicine men both claimed he should have his memory back by now, he did not. They had been on their way back to that town to restore Galen's supply of coins. Darkon had been given no convincing explanations but now he had a way right before him. He was not going to miss this chance.
He clenched the hilt of his sword with one hand and slapped Galen’s back saying, “Besides Galen, we came seeking adventure and now we have it!”
Galen could only sneer menacingly at Jvar and say, “Know this! Betray us or cause us harm and you will regret it at the end of my blade.”
Shrugging off the comment Jvar spread his wings as if stretching them and spoke an alien word. “Icarle!” Then, slowly, the twin stone doors began to slide open.
“Now, if you enter, our deal is sealed. The doors will remain open during the day but at night the risk is too great and you will have to wait until dawn.” Jvar explained.
At this Galen angrily looked at the sky and said, “Do you mean to tell me that if we were screaming for you to open the doors you would not let us out?”
Jvar nodded and said, “You understand, of course. I must keep this exit secret or every one of the catacomb monsters would come by looking for prey or as you call it, adventure.” Jvar puffed his feline chest out to reinforce his words.
Before Galen could retort Darkon held his palm up before him and said, “Galen, I must do this. If you do not wish to join me stay here and make sure Jvar lets me out when I get back.”
Galen would not have that. “Oh no! You’re not going anywhere without me. Not when it comes to adventure. Let’s do this thing then and maybe we'll play some games of our own when we return.” Smiling at the magical guardian Galen made a slight nod that Jvar solemnly returned.
Just as they were walking toward the opening a voice, a mystical, musical voice called to them. “Wait, please go no further!”
It was the woman Darkon had thought must have been a fearie trick. No woman, elf or otherwise, could be so radiant. When he saw her his heart thumped in his chest and he could not move as she walked within normal speaking range.
As she stopped before him he said, “Sweet lady, please tell me how it is you are unaccompanied in so dangerous a forest.”
Smiling gently Sevele replied, “I need no protection here. I am Sevele, a guardian of these woods.”
Darkon smiled back as any man would under barrage from such undeniable beauty. He could not believe she was not a queen or princess. “Sevele, I am Darkon and this is my comrade, Prince Galen of Genossia.”
Galen bowed, as he did so often at his mother’s galas. Sevele had never seen the likes of it before but found it amusing.
She said, “Then Darkon, please, before you waste your life by going into that foul place, hear me.”
Darkon heard the determined nature of her plea so nodded his assent.
“This place is full of horrible creatures! Jvar's original task was to lure evil beings into its depths so they wouldn’t run loose in Ara’moor. Through time it is said the place has become full of cohabitating monsters.”
Darkon was impressed with that description but really didn’t care. He was a Demonslayer. He wasn’t exactly sure yet what that entailed but he’d remember well enough when he came out with this spear of Bailick Jvar wanted.
He looked into her sparkling golden eyes and spoke, “Sevele, this deed I must do. For my own mind is at stake. I must recall my past and this riddling creature has abilities no others possess. I have no real choice, no matter the risk.”
At this Sevele’s face seemed pained and Darkon almost reached out to her. Instead he inhaled and exhaled deeply, taking in her enticing scent. With this memory of her he would surely return at all costs. What he hadn't considered was that as he and Galen turned and walked toward the doorway, she would follow. It wasn’t until they had stepped fully into the chamber beyond that they turned and found her standing grimly behind them.
Galen spoke before Darkon could, “My lady, please, you must return to the open air. This is no place for one so fair.”
Darkon nodded in agreement.
At this Sevele grew angry. She had run alone through these woods forever. No one was going to tell her where she could or could not go.
Her mind made up she replied, “I go where I please, Prince! Now I please to go with you both! Like it or not I am staying!”
Folding her arms across her healthy bosom the men noticed for the first time the exquisite chain mail armor she wore. Links so close together it seemed to be one whole fabric open at the throat to reveal a delicate neck and a shining star pendant. It covered nearly all of her body. A slim elven blade sat at her hip and several knives were tucked here and there about her person. Many pouches lined her belt and outer jacket and she also carried a small wand.
Looking at one another, the two men acknowledged her seeming astuteness. Surely she had more skill than with just a brush. Nodding, they accepted her beside them and continued toward the descending stairway lit by the outside sunlight. As they walked down its length a screeching metallic sound pierced the silence. The stairs seemed to give way as they went flat. Leaving a smooth chute they could not gain footing upon. They had no other option than to just slide down on their backs. As they circled a thick support column while spiraling downward they began to hear a noise approaching swiftly below. A roaring, rumbling cacophony they could not avoid.
A swirling waterfall met them half way down the chute and the sudden cold shocked their systems. The body of water that rushed to greet them as the chute disappeared from beneath their plummeting forms was black and frothy where the water spilled into it. Sevele’s surprised scream was all any of them heard for that seemingly endless moment before they smashed to the water’s surface. There was no true light but glowing reflections from cave growth and subterranean creatures and they quickly became separated in the confusion, though Darkon found himself clinging to Sevele’s side. He could barely swim and his heavy armor threatened to drag him under but his concern was with Sevele. Indeed he would have drowned if not for the log that was drifting by that allowed him to gain some leverage and tread the water. When that log suddenly revealed itself to be something much more dangerous than simply floating debris he lost that leverage and sunk swiftly beneath the surface. Sevele, determined not to lose sight of Darkon, dived after him, and after her went the mysterious floating creature.
A distance away, barely keeping his armored body afloat, Galen heard only a foreboding sound that brought to mind the grumble of a hungry beast. He was a master swimmer and that was all the help he needed to convince his limbs to push him faster toward what he believed was the waters edge.


CHAPTER 4
IT TAKES A PARTY


Graton was sure he’d heard a splashing sound. Here, in the catacombs of Ara’moor, that was not easily believed. Any being who knew of the tunnel’s inhabitants would never leap into the small lake. The huge amphibious monster that lived there would swallow anything it could, alive or dead.
Graton was an elf from the family of Griffon lords who kept watch over the skies of Ara’moor and served as messengers between the kingdom’s of elves. He was considered still young among his kind being only ninety four winters old. His ability with a spear was what had brought him here. His family sent him to seek the spear of Bailick.
Bailick had been an elf as well but not from this world. His spear was said to be one piece of an entire set of relics he brought with him from his home world. Graton had long dreamt of finding these items and now he was close to gaining the first part. Though, he decided, he would first investigate the splashing.
The tunnel mouth he stood in had four tunnels adjoining it. Two were heading south and the other two north. The walls were damp and reflected the light of his torch. Heading south by the second tunnel he moved swiftly in the darkness as only an elf could. Moments later he heard more splashing and this time screams. Exploding out of instinct into a full run he soon came to the underground lake. The tunnel he moved through was ten feet in height and two men could move comfortably beside one another. Experienced delvers would call that spacious. The area he moved into then would be considered massive. The lake was a half mile in diameter and the ceiling rose forty feet in some places. Stalagmites reached well below the water’s surface and the water was black as night and still as death.
A groan of pain alerted him to the man lying on the small narrow shelf that lined the wall around the lake. Silently approaching the man without alerting him, he tapped the human’s shoulder as he groggily peered toward the water. At first Galen didn’t move, half expecting it to be Darkon or even Sevele.
Then Graton said, “Are you well? Was anyone with you?”
It wasn’t Darkon.
Galen could only do what was pure instinct bred from long training. Grab a weapon and attack.
Using his shield as a weapon he lunged toward the elf saying, “Tell that thing to spit