The slivers had taken Dillenger deeper inside the cave. He tried to keep a mental list of all the turns they had made in case the slivers decided to turn on him and he had to retrace his steps back. After spending hours in this cave though, after all the separate tunnels and passageways he had to navigate, at some point in this expedition, the acolyte had lost his way.
There was no turning back. Dillenger knew that this was a one-way trip for him now. There was no way he could recall his way back home.
The tunnel led to what appeared to be a dead end with the exception of a small crevice at the bottom of the sheer rock wall that faced him. Shinning minerals deposited over years of water dripping covered the face of it giving the wall a shiny foam appearance. Dillenger placed his hand on the wall to get a better understanding of it; he had never seen anything like this before. It was wet, cold and hard.
The slivers piled into the crevice hurriedly and disappeared. Dillenger got on his hands and knees to follow after the last one had entered. Raising the dragon’s heart for light, he peered inside the dark hole.
The crevice was no more that eleven inches high, just enough space for him to wriggle into. He could just barely make out the last of the slivers crawling on the ceiling of the narrow opening, making its way through.
He entered it. His body lay flat as he pushed with his toes and pulled with whatever his one free hand could grab, the other hand holding tightly to the dragon’s heart. Where he couldn’t find a handhold, his toes had to do all the work. He could feel the weight of the rock pressing ominously against his body. In some areas, the path was so narrow that it cut deeply into his back.
A jolt of pain seared through his back and into his spine each time he inched his way forward, but pain was something Dillenger was used to. You couldn’t study the Chaos arts and survive without being familiar with it. Dillenger spent countless nights screaming from the agony his master would put him through. He learned how to shut the pain out now. It was almost nothing to him.
Before he knew it, the crevice opened up into another tunnel of the cave. Dillenger got back on his feet and lifted the dragon’s heart up high to get a better look. He could see the beady eyes of the slivers looking up at him, encouraging him to move on.
Before moving on though, he reached his one, free hand behind him to assess the damage to his back. His shirt was shredded and he could feel deep wounds in the areas he could reach. The pain that lingered was dulling now, but he knew it would get sharper when his body started the healing process.
He brought his hand back around and saw it covered in blood. Dillenger knew that if he did not get this looked at soon, he would be in big trouble. He gave the slivers a small nod, telling them that he was ready. Silently, he hoped that the smell of blood would not encourage them.
He followed the slivers without comment, trying to keep his breathing down to normal. Though it didn’t look it, traveling through this cave required more exertion than he would have expected. The pathway was sandy, but it sloped up and down continuously. It was laboring for him.
He had no idea how long it had been since his master first brought him into this cave, but he knew it had to be at least a full day. He had not eaten or slept for at least that long too.
He was beginning to trip over his feet as his body protested to the prolonged exertion he was subjecting it to. He could not even keep his head up as he walked. It bobbed slightly as his chin tried to rest on his chest. His arms were like wet noodles against the sides of his body, swinging slightly to the rhythm of his walk.
Suddenly, Dillenger felt the rush of a warm breeze assault him. It was a shock to his cold body. At first, he thought he was dreaming it, he was half asleep as it was. But then he saw the shafts of light. The beam, though subtle, was enough to almost be blinding when you remain in the darkness of the cave for as long as he had been. Dillenger squinted as he lifted his arm to shield is eyes to it.
The very thought of getting out of this cave gave him a second wind of energy. He almost leaped out of his skin.
As if feeling the same burst of energy, the slivers’ pace began to quicken. Dillenger followed the same pace without complaint. He focused on the shaft of light as it grew bigger in his field of vision. He forgot how tired he was.
Finally, at the end of the tunnel, he saw the opening. It was a welcoming relief. Dillenger paused for a moment with his hands on his knees to catch his breath. He watched the slivers pile through it. They crawled through the opening from the top, bottom and the sides. The faster one’s even crawled on top of the slower ones. To Dillenger, they looked like ants piling into their nest.
He followed the slivers through the opening and found himself standing on a lush carpet of grass. The sun was moments from setting, it would be dark soon. Dillenger took a deep breath of fresh air, savoring it. It was a welcome comfort from the musty choke of the cave. And the stench of the slivers almost nonexistent.
He halted the herd. The confidence he lacked just a few hours ago was building. His fear of the slivers diminishing, replaced by the need to please his master, the need to be in his favor.
He was amazed that his master would trust him with something as important as this. To capture the very heart of the prophecy would mean instant elevation within the ranks of the Black Host. As his confidence returned, he knew that this was a task that he could do.
With enough sunlight left to see, Dillenger placed the Green dragon’s heart back in his pocket, but he still held onto it. He could feel the magic emanating from it. This too, gave him courage and reassurance. He knew this stone would help him locate the man. Already, the power that surged through the stone was leading him to his target. Looking at his surroundings, Dillenger wanted to pinpoint where exactly he was, regardless of what the stone told him.
Looking over his shoulder, he could see the shores of Tarwain’s Trap, the deadly lake where both ends of the Tarwain River flowed. Dillenger remembered the story told by his master about the ominous lake.
Rivers flow from one point to the other; the source to where it drained. Not in the case with the Tarwain however. Both the south end and the north end flowed into that lake, creating a constant whirlpool in the center. A whirlpool so fierce, no man could cross it. Attempting to do so would only mean being drawn into that inescapable vortex, drawing you to the bottom of the lake.
For years, Dillenger had heard numerous legends about the treasures that lay deep on the lake’s bottom, sacrifices of countless wayward seamen brave enough to attempt a pass.
It is said that no one could escape the Trap. And it is the fear of falling victim to it that has kept all from attempting to recover those treasures and the secrets they hide. Master Bane said that no one knew why the river flows in such a manner, nor does the power exist to master it.
Still holding on to the dragon’s heart, he felt a strong pulse accompanied by a rise in its temperature. The heat was almost unbearable. Dillenger knew pain though, he held on tight. Letting go would mean loosing the message it was trying to tell him. His prey was just east of him. Gundon’s Vine.
“Does the massterss feel the pullss?”
Startled, Dillenger did not see the sliver approach him. For a moment, his fear returned. Still holding onto the dragon’s heart, he sent a momentary shock of pain into the sliver’s mind. It screamed horribly. So loud was the wale, Dillenger thought it would wake up the dead. Certainly his prey had heard it. The scream was loud enough to carry for miles.
He stopped the pain just as quickly as he had set it off.
“Do not approach me like that again!” Dellinger warned the sliver as it reeled and whimpered at his feet.
Though the admission of pain had ceased, the creature convulsed for a moment longer. Involuntary muscle spasms caused its ankles and neck to twitch. Mucus flowed freely from its pug nose and into its fanged mouth, mixing with the viscous saliva, dripping to the ground.
The creature looked up at Dillenger with a pitiful look. After a moment of staring into his eyes, it spoke to him through his mind. “Massterss, why do you hurtss me sso?”
“It is my wish. Do not question it. Do you hear me?” Dillenger responded back aloud.
“Yess, my massterss.”
“Good.” Dillenger stepped over the sliver and started walking east in the direction the magic led him; in the direction of his prey.
The sliver watched Dillenger walk away with a look of hatred and malice. It saw the deep cuts on his back and saw the delicious fluid flow red, dripping on the ground. It extended out its tongue to wipe away all the mucus from its face. It loved the taste, but not as much as it loved the taste of blood and flesh.
Picking itself off the ground, it gave out a low grunt. It will enjoy ripping the human apart, peeling off the flesh, tearing the muscle from the bone, feeling the warm organs burst as it squeezed them in its claws.
Slivers do not play with there food, but it will make an exception with this one. It won’t kill him right away. It will play for a long time with this one. It will be almost as enjoyable as eating him.
With a wicked snarl that displayed rows of sharp, yellow fangs, the Sliver rejoined the herd to follow its would-be master.