Curse Of The Dark Wind (Book 6) by Charles E Yallowitz

Author:Charles E Yallowitz [Yallowitz, Charles E]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2014-12-11T00:00:00+00:00

10

Heart racing and palms sweating, Timoran hides in the darkness with Fizzle crouched on his shoulder. They have been patiently waiting for Zander to join them for what feels like an hour, but may only be minutes. Realizing that they cannot wait any longer, the barbarian gets on his belly and crawls down the smooth hallway. Powerful gusts of wind rocket over him and he feels the Dark Wind harmlessly lashing at his back. He stops when a gangly shadow steps into the distant light and leans forward as if trying to spot the warrior. The creature unleashes a faint howl and wanders off, leaving Timoran to continue dragging himself forward.

“What that?” Fizzle whispers as he crawls next to his friend.

“I assume the source,” Timoran replies, struggling to keep his voice low.

“How we beat?”

“There is that wind-enhancing gem that John gave us.”

“Use now and see.”

“I do not know. It could be something we use after we destroy the source.”

“Then what we do?”

Timoran stops and thinks, his eyes watching the doorway for the return of the shadowy creature. He hears echoing howls from ahead and several shadows dart across the chamber’s entrance. Reaching into his belt pouch, he draws a flask of Ifrit mead and greedily drains every drop. He can see the form of Fizzle staring at him, the curious gaze of the drite easily sensed in the near darkness.

“The crystal enhances the scent that is on the breeze,” Timoran explains, feeling the alcohol warm his belly and steel his nerves. “I was told to use a potent smell, so I chose Ifrit mead. It is now on my breath, so all I have to do is blow on the crystal. Hopefully it works and we can cleanse the Dark Wind from the region. Are you ready for battle, little one?”

“Fizzle do best,” the drite declares as he crawls forward. “How we fight?”

With a broad smile, the barbarian moves to the edge of the darkness and silently draws his great axe. “I shall fall back on the tried and true tactics of my people. I will swing my weapon until all my enemies are defeated. I trust you to use your magic, my friend. It is likely that you will be more successful than I.”

“Fizzle protect friend,” the dragon hisses, patting the warrior on the shoulder.

Timoran nods to the drite and focuses on the vast chamber to get his eyes adjusted to the bright light. Shadowy figures drift around the cavern, their tall bodies and gangly limbs swaying in the whipping wind. Wisps of darkness constantly float off the hazy creatures and pour into a churning orb in the center of the room. A howling wind erupts from the shimmering back wall and disperses the globe, transforming it into a wave of Dark Wind. Timoran holds his breath as the living curse is fired into the hallway and launched up the chute.

After getting a sense of the terrain and a general idea of the creatures’ movements, Timoran crouches and waits. Fizzle crawls up the wall to get out of the barbarian’s way, his scaly body turning invisible.

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