Tartarus Beckons by Edmund Batara (reading an ebook .TXT) 📕

– it was empty and bereft of any magic. The fervent prayers and arcane rituals which must have accompanied its installation should have left even a tiny speck of magical energy. But the mage discovered he was just looking at a piece of rock, A large one, he had to admit, but still a mound of stone, no different from the material of the cave. The map was there, embedded on the cave wall. Thickly coated with verdigris, it took them some time to clean the plaque, and then discovered that time wasn’t kind to it too. And it was written in dokkalfr runes.

At least Magna was able to determine, after eye-straining efforts, which of the several gaping entrances surrounding the hollow was the one leading to the exit from the mountain. It might be blocked by rockfalls and cave-ins, but Tyler was sure he’d find a way. Beyond that, the eroded stile was useless. If it was magically prepared beforehand against the ravages of time, then the protection vanished the moment the object entered the cave.

“Thanks, Magna. I appreciate what you have done,” said Tyler, sympathizing with the warrior who was rubbing her eyes. Several minutes of microscopic examination wasn’t kind to them.

“That was hell on the eyes,” she laughed. “Worse than poring over ancient manuscripts for three nights. And those were written in tiny ancient runes.”

Luckily, Habrok and Astrid discovered that the pool of water formed from the cascade did have fish and that the water was clear and drinkable. The party had to pause again to fill up their provisions. Tyler’s scrying spell didn’t show much change in the disposition of the spider hordes, except that some groups were now smaller. When he cast the incantation in the direction of the cave entrance, the magical view revealed that the battle was still furiously going on, and Habrok was right – more spiders were on their way to join the fight, though, for some reason, their circuitous routes to the surface avoided or bypassed the location of the party.

It was a massive conflict. Tyler could see that the jotnar had really come in force, but the number of the spiders in the arachnid colony seemed inexhaustible. Many appeared to come from locations beyond the range of his scrying spell, and the battle outside had already extended down to the ruins of the fortress. He reflexively shuddered at what he saw. The entire area was crawling with arachnids of all sizes.

Shit. That could have been us. Though that’s one stupid jotnar commander. That’s clearly a battle that couldn’t be won. Unless strict orders to get us had been issued, or their forces couldn’t disengage even if he or she, or it, wanted to withdraw. Better you than us then, thought Tyler as he took in the macabre yet incredible sight. Eventually turning his attention from the battle. The small shrine of Freyr caught his eye. Glancing back, the mage saw the companions were busy with the preparations for their attempt to break out. Kobu and Hoenir were the ones on watch duty.

Five days. I don’t think it’s going to be just five days, thought Tyler. He decided to check the alcove again. They might have missed something, and for the moment, he had the time. Moreover, the shrine was but several feet away from the water. The mage stood up and walked toward the statue. The exile was the one positioned between the campsite and the shrine.

“Didn’t join the wet excursion, Kobu?” Tyler asked as he passed the man.

“Fishing was never one of my strengths, sire. I believe our aquatic friends have an instinctive, almost magical, revulsion to my presence. They all flee the moment my foot enters the water,” laughed the exile. Tyler gave a chuckle as he continued on his way.

A few feet away from the crumbling statue, the cave floor suddenly opened up and swallowed him whole.

The mage was too shocked and surprised at the unexpected event to be frightened. The mage had full confidence in the tried and tested abilities of his magical barriers to be unduly concerned about the possibility of immediate death. He did have the presence of mind to ask his AI guides on the strange anomaly as he slowly dropped down a deep tunnel. The speed of his descent was enough to inform him that what happened was not an attempt to kill him. Somebody or something wanted to talk to him. Strangely, what was happening was reminiscent of the experience he had when Rumpr and Hrun opened those portals in the stone wall of the mountains around Scarburg.

But this time, he wasn’t walking through them. Instead, he was being pulled down into the mountainous depths by the spell of an unknown entity. Tyler could sense that a magical bubble had surrounded him even as he was drawn into the dark and innermost recesses of the mountain. As the unknown swallowed him, the mage had the consolation that, for the moment, whoever was responsible didn’t want him dead, and he had his staff with him.

Yet the thought that on this world, there were many ways of meeting a fate worse than being merely dead, kept nagging at the back of his mind. He was sorely tempted to forcibly kick the fearful idea to the end of the long queue of tumultuous and troublesome thoughts all clamoring for attention in his mind, but decided against it. Fear could keep one alive in certain circumstances.

“Guys, being kidnapped again. Any help?” he asked his guides.

“Our senses are being blocked, sire. A strange form of magical energy. If we’re right, it’s of First World origin. Though a dark taint is unmistakable,” answered X immediately.

“Let me guess. Demonic?”

“Something like that, sire. Though, in this world, the distinction between that classification and similar powerful beings of the mad and inane persuasion could just be a matter of semantics,” Hal replied.

The speed of the clearly measured descent of the mage finally and conspicuously slowed down. The darkness which engulfed the tunnel he was traveling