Rise of the DarkWalker: The Chronicles of Carter Blake, Book II

The Elder sat on a throne of elk antlers beside a crackling fire. A band of hide covered his right eye. The other glowed bright gold. His thick torso had a series of tattoos depicting spiders, the full moon, a bear, an eagle and the head of a lion. Ash-colored hair flowed down to a thick, braided beard of the same shade.

A necklace of teeth and claws dangled around his wide neck. In a meaty paw, a cup made from a skull. A pipe with a sweet smelling smoke was held to his lips by the other. An oak-like leg was draped over the other at the knee. ‘It was a rather feminine way to sit,’ Carter thought.

His voice turned out to be fairly mellow considering his size. “My daughter tells me you’re the Walker of Worlds.”

Carter’s eyebrows rose. He turned to Weijia. “Really? Are you telling everyone we meet who I am?”

The Elder chuckled. “Not her.”

Carter turned back. “Huh?”

A door just behind the throne opened and Carter’s heart leaped in his chest. A gigantic black bear sauntered into the room. He took a couple steps back, bracing himself for a fight. However, the animal flopped over on its side at the Elder’s feet. It glanced at him, huffed, and then lay its head on crossed paws.

“There’s nothing to fear from Bjorn, Carter Blake.”

The honeyed voice saying his name like that caused him to whip his head around to the speaker so fast his neck popped and then his jaw dropped. A flame-haired, curvaceous woman dressed in a low-cut, ankle-length dress with a slit running up to the lower end of a thick black belt stood at the open door. The belt appeared to be metal and the buckle area was in the shape of a dragon’s head.

Carter flicked his eyes to the bear and noticed a similar belt around the animal’s head and ears with the nose of the dragon head going partly down the bear’s snout. Returning his attention to the woman, he saw she’d walked closer and stood with her weight was on her left hip which jutted outward causing her dress to part, revealing a slim, yet muscular leg that went into a knee-high leather boot. He quickly brought his gaze to her face. ‘Either her underwear is high cut, or she’s not wearing any.’ She winked at him, and he blushed. ‘Can she read my mind?’

“How do you know I’m this ‘Walker of Worlds’ person?” He folded his arms. “Maybe your info is mistaken?”

She gave him a slow smile. “It’s not mistaken, Carter.” She shifted her stance to mirror his, right down to the folded arms across her chest. “My information is never wrong.”

He raised his left eyebrow. “How is that?”

“I know things.” She raised her left eyebrow. “Many kinds of things.”

He dropped his arms to his hips. “Alright. Who are you?”

“I am Weijia’s sister.” She placed her hands on her hips.

“Would you stop doing that?”

“Doing what, Carter?”

“Holding your body the way I am.”

“But it’s fun.”

“It’s irritating.”

She straightened. “I’m sorry. I did not mean to irritate you.” She clasped her hands in front of her middle.

‘If she’s not careful, she’s doing to spill out of the top of her dress.’

He began his turn back to the Elder, but froze when she bit her lower lip and tugged her dress down, showing him more of her cleavage. Face aflame, he whipped around to face the Elder fully.

“Would you be willing to take Madikate in as I search for what happened to her family? Demons attacked her town and some were still in the area.”

“I will, if you’d be willing to also to cleanse the resting area of our ancestors of the blight that is infecting it.”

“What kind of blight?”

“An infestation of undead,” Weijia said.

He raised his left eyebrow. “Wouldn’t that be better handled by a cleric, paladin, or Warpriest?”

“All we sent have failed.”

Carter scratched his beard, his index finger running over the scar that cut it in two. “Alright. I’ll do it.”

The Elder set his feet flat on the floor and leaned forward making his throne creak. “Really? That simply?”

“Of course. A few undead wouldn’t be much of a problem, right?”

“For a warrior as great as you, of course not.”

‘He’s putting things on rather thick. What am I missing?’

Weijia’s sister stepped up and rested her hand on Carter’s arm. “May I come?” Her voice came in a breathy whisper like warm honey.

Carter swallowed. “Sure.”

She gave him a slow smile. “I’m glad to hear it. My name is Delena.”

***

Carter turned to his guide. “May I ask you a very personal, and possibly rude question?” His horse’s ears flicked at the sound of his voice. It still wasn’t accustomed to its new rider.

She arched her eyebrows and returned his gaze. “Weijia is my adopted sister. We grew up together after her father and my mother were killed in a raid by vampire bandits.”

Carter nodded. “That’s fucked up.” He paused for a moment. “Does this mean I may not ask?”

She chuckled. “I’m sorry. I thought that was the potentially rude question.” She leaned forward and rubbed her horse’s head between its ears. “You may ask your question, Carter.”

He wiped sweat from his forehead with a piece of cloth. “Thank you.” He drank water from his canteen, grimacing at its warmth. “So, I’ve been wondering: What the fuck are you doing with a dire bear?”

She laughed again. “Bjorn? He’s my dear friend.” The animal in question glanced up at his name.

“I saw.” Carter nudged his horse closer to hers. “How?”

“I’m a druid.”

He tilted his head to the left. “Isn’t that a nature mage?”

Delena smiled. “That’s a simplistic way of looking at it. I am a guardian and ward of nature and all His wildlife.”

“Whose?”

“Kellün’s, of course.”

“He’s a popular deity, isn’t he?”

She shrugged. “I could not say. All I know is to venerate Him.”

“Golondir not liked, or just unknown?”

“He’s typically worshipped by dwarves. Of course, there are exceptions. I know a half-orc who follows Golondir.”

“A half-orc, eh? Hmm.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I am. The half-orcs I’ve met seemed to favor Kaile.”

“Who is that?”

“Now, you’re sounding surprised.” He grinned. “Kaile is the orc God of the Wild.”

“How did you learn of him?”

“During my journey in the Abyss, I encountered a fang on a Blooding.”

“A what on a what?”

“A Fang is fifteen orc and half-orc warriors. Blooding is a rite of adulthood in orc culture.”

“Did they know you as the Walker of Worlds?”

Carter shook his head. “They only knew me as a human who killed a Shianxi by himself.”

“Oh.” She was quiet for a few minutes. “How? They’re almost as deadly as a Crimson Walker.”

“In the Abyss, you learn how to kill demons, or they kill you.”

She nodded. “That makes sense.”

He grinned at her as he dismounted. As he reached for the saddle belt, the horse vanished, replaced by a stone figurine. He picked it up and turned it over in his hands. When he noticed her standing in front of him, he looked up.

“Caleus’ Wondrous Figures?” He passed it to her.

“Yes.” She placed it in a pouch on her belt. “Where did you encounter them before?”

“Victory Keep. Mordecai showed me one. Said they were rare.”

“Yes.”

“You have at least two.”

She dipped her head. “At least.”

Carter raised his eyes to the immense gateway sealing the way forward. When he approached the rock-iron gate itself, the telltale sheen of silvery red told him a powerful ward was in place.

“You have the key, I presume,” he said over his shoulder.

“Would have been foolish to drag you all the way out here without it.”

“Fair point.”

He stepped back to watch Delena work. She removed a silvery red disk from another pouch and pressed it to the gate. A blue flash and the portal swinging open told him the key had ended the ward spell. She stepped to the side and waved her left arm at the opening with a bow.

“Impressive.”

“Is the snark warranted?”

“Always.” He winked at her.

***

The Keep they stood outside of was in terrible condition. Ivy covered walls had entire sections missing, having fallen due to the elements and time. The drawbridge was down and splintery-looking. An ancient portcullis was frozen halfway up and coated with rust. A tree grew out of the top of a ruined tower. Algae floated on the surface of the stagnant, half-filled moat.

They crossed the creaky drawbridge with care. As they got to the middle, a section crumbled under his right foot. She grabbed his arm, helping him to regain his balance. He looked down into the hole his foot had punched into the bridge.

Ripples raced to the sides of the moat away from where pieces of the bridge had fallen in.

He glanced back to her. “That fall would not have been pleasant. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

The ducked under the portcullis and paused. The interior was dim with some of the midday sunlight wafting through holes in the wall. Motes of dust and cobwebs danced on the faint breeze. The stone floor was covered in patches of puddles, moss and mold. Cracks ran through the once well-made stonework.

“The people who once lived here must have been nobility or royalty.”

“As far as I know, my father is neither.”

“How did he afford all this?” Carter waved his hand at the decrepit grandeur.

Delena shrugged. “I just grew up here.”

“How did you get driven out of here? You’re a druid, right?”

“I am, but my magic isn’t suited to fighting the undead.”

Carter faced her fully. “What would y’all have done if I hadn’t happened to come to your new village?”

“The same as we had been doing: Destroying any undead that wandered out of the valley while working to raise enough gold to get clerics to come cleanse the land.”

He pointed to the wall. “Those holes don’t happen very quickly. My world has castles hundreds of years old and they don’t have that many.”

“Go look at the floor under them.”

He frowned, but did as she bade. Other than stagnant water and moss, the floor was clean next to the wall. He turned back to her. “Magic? Was it vampires?”

“A lich.”

Carter rubbed his jaw. “An undead wizard complicates things a bit.”

“A lot. I have no idea where his phylactery might be.”

The Walker sighed. The phylactery held the lich’s soul. As long as it remained intact, the lich couldn’t truly be defeated as it would continue to be resurrected.

“By all the hells.” He put his hands on his hips. “You or your father could have told me this before we got here.”

“Why does a lich attacking bother you?”

“It’s not the lich that is the issue, it’s not knowing the phylactery’s location. I can destroy both by myself, but without knowing where the soul jar is, I need a holy being to ward the vale from the undead’s return.” He scratched his head as he stared at the ceiling. “I have no connection to holy magic.”

“What about scrolls or wands?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“That is unusual. The gods do not typically block the just from accessing celestial magic.” She leaned in, staring into his left eye. “You are just, aren’t you?”

“I like to think so.”

“Maybe they don’t like you for some reason?”

“I don’t know.”

“I didn’t know the Walker of Worlds would have any trouble with a lowly undead.”

Carter blinked at her. “Do you know how the powers of the Walker work?”

“No.” She shook her head.

“Me, either.”

“How do you not know how your powers work?”

“No one taught me. I didn’t even find out I’m this Walker of Worlds until I got here. By all the hells, I don’t even know what it means.”

She stepped closer to him. “Then how did you survive the Abyss? Or is that just a legend?”

Carter raised his right index finger in the air and then unbuckled the straps holding his cuirass in place. He then lifted it over his head, revealing a chainmail shirt and gambeson. He then removed both, leaving himself bare chested.

He waved his hand downward in front of his torso and used his fingers to call attention to the various marks and scars there. A couple had faint glowing auras to them. Once more, he held up his index finger and then turned, presenting his back to their perusal.

After a few moments of silence, he said, “So. Mere legend, or no?” He turned to face her once more.

Delena moved closer and gently tugged at his shoulder with a cool hand. He obliged and showed her his back again. She skimmed a fingertip over a wedge-shaped scar near his spine. “This one looks different from the others.”

Carter lifted his gambeson and slid his arms into the sleeves. “Because it was caused by a hand axe, not claw or fang.” He turned back as he buttoned the padded shirt.

“I’m curious about something.”

“What’s that?”

“With the abundance of healing magic available, how is it you have scars?”

“I don’t always have healing potions available. I’ve run out in perilous occasions. I’ve also been ambushed.”

“That makes sense.” She pointed to a rough and jagged scar on his abdomen. “What’s this one from?

“Tianarri moss.”

Her eyes widened. “How did you remove it? Demon Lords use it to track certain prisoners because its roots spread throughout the victim’s body.”

“It does.” Carter closed his eyes for a moment. “Being in the Abyss spurred its growth and the effects it had on me. It had grown tendrils like hair, or fur. Tearing it out of my body threw me out of the Abyss and nearly killed me. Fortunately, a witch who lived near a small portal found me and then nursed me back to health.”

“Witches aren’t known for their altruism,” she said. “How much do you owe her?”

Carter chuckled. “It keeps changing.”

“You may have to resort to killing her to become free.”

“Which wouldn’t be easy. Especially as she’s bound our life forces together.”

Delena muttered under her breath as she raised her hand towards Carter’s chest. A blue light surrounded her hand and an answering light rose from his heart. A gold string, braided with a red one, raced into the distance before vanishing from sight. She sighed and lowered her hand, the lights fading away.

“It’s a complicated spell.”

“According to the witch, it’s called a ‘Heart Spell.’ She said as long as nothing happens to her, I’ll be fine. However, I’m bound to her until my debt is repaid.”

“That’s really open-ended, Carter.”

He threw his hands up. “I had no choice. I had to agree, or die.” He pulled the gambeson on and smoothed it out. “I chose to live.”

“I would have, too,” Delena said. “Do you think she’ll interfere with what we’re doing here?”

The Walker tugged the chain shirt on. “She hasn’t yet hampered my activities.” He raised his cuirass. “Give me a hand with this, would you?”

As she helped him buckle the armor in place, the druid subtly breathed in his scent. To cover her action, she said, “What is the plan for the keep?”

“Do you have a map?”

“I do.” She tightened the last strap on his armor, then crossed to her saddle bag, and pulled out a furled parchment. After rolling it out on the floor, she glanced to Carter.

“Where are we?”

She studied the map for a few seconds and then pointed near the southeastern part of the map. “We’re here.”

Carter leaned over to see where she pointed, and then pointed to a dot about an inch to the north. “Bisquine is about seven wheels north. They have a temple dedicated to Chokkan. Last time I was there, a Fist of Keldur’s paladins were garrisoned just outside the city.”

“His paladins wouldn’t be of any use to us, would they?”

“Yes.” Carter rose. “Undead break the Law of Death.”

“Makes sense, then.”

He pulled on his gauntlets and furled the map. “Would you please conjure those Wondrous Horses?”

A horse snorted. He turned to find two sable stallions. The nearest pawed the ground.

“I already did, Carter.”

He smiled at her. “Excellent.” He swung up into the saddle of the closest horse. “Mount up and let’s go to Bisquine.”