“Something ails you, my pupil?”
“Merely the result of much research. With your permission, shall I begin?”
Dauroth eyed the tomb. “Do so. I shall order the others into position.”
“There is no need, great one! For this, I do not require the rest of the Talon. I require only my own efforts. It will take but a few moments.”
“Indeed? Most impressive. Proceed. I will have the others stand by should any assistance be required after all.”
Already anxious to begin, Hundjal scarcely paid any mind to Dauroth’s last statement. He stood atop a rocky outcropping overlooking the tomb. Below was the stone entrance with its markings in the tongue of their ancestors over the archway.
Hundjal looked proud, undaunted. He began to sing loudly, wondrously, as energies rose from within him and gathered from without.
Kallel and Safrag were among those who looked to Dauroth for commands, for all had assumed that the Black Talon would act in concert, as one. However, the lead Titan ignored the others, continuing to watch Hundjal expectantly.
The senior apprentice finished his chanting then drew the symbol of the Talon-raptor’s claws-in the air.
From the glowing claws emanated a field of black light that swept over both the entrance of the tomb and a good portion of the surrounding rock and earth. It settled onto the area then seeped through the ground, vanishing into the mountainside.
There was a brief crackle of static energy in its wake, then silence.
“That is it?” blurted one of the other Titans, already starting to drift toward the tomb. “All this expectation and nothing but another failure-”
An explosion of magical forces shot out from the mountain without stirring a single pebble or disrupting a flake of snow. The presumptuous Titan was thrown back. He might have fallen down the mountain to his doom, but Dauroth, feeling magnanimous, forgave his arrogance and used a spell to push him back to safety.
“Now it is done,” Hundjal proudly remarked. “The forces used by the ancients to both seal the entrance to the tomb and destroy its contents should someone manage to enter have been cast out and will dissipate in the emptiness of this land.”
“Well done, my pupil,” Dauroth declared heartily. “For your reward, you may be the first to enter.”
It also meant that Hundjal would be the first to possibly face any unexpected traps lying within, but the apprentice was more than confident in himself and pleased to take the lead. He bowed to his mentor, then leaped up into the air and let his power allow him to alight just before the stone barrier.
Raising his left arm, Hundjal let his hand sweep across the symbols above the entrance. He sang each of them loudly, the musical tones causing the assembled Titans to listen in fascination.
As Hundjal ceased his singing, the stone slid inward. The apprentice strode forward as if master of all within.
Dauroth descended to the doorway then followed behind. The other Titans, Safrag at their rear, entered one by one.
Inside the chamber, Hundjal and Dauroth paused to gaze at some of the illuminated images lining the stone walls. There were more than a score on both sides of the corridor.
“It is as written,” the lead Titan remarked reverently. “The life of the dead is set out for the gods to see so they may know this one was worthy.” Dauroth placed his fingers on one illustration. Immediately, his eyes stared off into space.
“A trap!” Kallel hissed, reaching for their master.
Hundjal slapped his hand away. “Do not touch him!”
Barely a breath later, Dauroth blinked. He stepped back, his expression almost childlike. “I was there! I was the one! A female! This was the burial of a personage of much power!”
“There may be signets after all!” someone else murmured.
Dauroth signaled for attention. “And if there are, then we shall find them. Lead on, Hundjal.”
The apprentice walked slowly but confidently down the corridor, with Dauroth but a step behind. Near the image of two robed figures-one male and the other female-holding up what seemed to be a crescent moon, Hundjal came to a sudden halt.
“A spell spawned from the magical essence of dragonfear,” he informed his master. “Old but still potent.” After a pause, he added, “It is dealt with.”
As they proceeded, the illumination from the reliefs proved less and less sufficient, even for Titans.
“There is a magic-dampening spell,” Dauroth explained. “Not enough to stop us. We shall have to make our own light from now on, though.”
Hundjal created a small sphere of blue and white energy, which hovered over his palm. Some of the others followed suit.
Then the corridor simply ended. Ahead lay a darkened chamber. Hundjal glanced at his master, who bade him to enter.
The moment that the apprentice did so, however, the entire chamber blossomed with bright light. Dauroth immediately joined him inside and the two stared at the walls, which were of crystal and silver and reflected the low illumination of Hundjal’s sphere a thousand times stronger than the source.
Kallel approached behind them. The chamber light suddenly grew brighter, glaring.
“Kallel!” the lead Titan called. “You will keep your sphere active! Hundjal! The rest of you! Dismiss yours!”
As the others swiftly obeyed, the light diminished to a tolerable level. Dauroth nodded with pleasure as he examined their find.
“Intact! Utterly intact,” he declared triumphantly. “It is ours!” His gaze focused on the item most central to the chamber. “There! The sarcophagus! Nothing matters more!”
Even Hundjal and the other members of the inner circle could not help but gape at the score of ivory pedestals encircling the pearl stand upon which a diamond coffin lay. Each of those platforms held artifacts with mysterious and valuable contents. There were scrolls, boxes, talismans, and other objects of arcane use. Each artifact alone was a precious treasure, but all together were nothing compared with the coffin.
More pearls floated above the coffin structure, pearls three times the size of a head. They were just translucent enough to hint at other artifacts, other riches held within. They hovered in a five-sided arrangement and numbered more than two score, an astounding cache of High Ogre relics.
Dauroth gestured Hundjal aside and took the lead. “Touch nothing. First the sarcophagus; then all else.”
The Titans flowed as one toward the glorious coffin, cautiously bypassing the pedestals and their prizes. That did not mean that their eyes did not covetously survey the many artifacts as the spellcasters passed. More than one Titan marked items he desired later for himself … if Dauroth did not notice.
Within a foot of the sarcophagus, Dauroth suddenly raised his hand. “Stand still!”
The others obeyed instantly. Dauroth alone circled the sarcophagus, studying the figure within. She was beautiful, so very beautiful that against all other females-even Morgada-there were no comparisons. Clad in shimmering silver-and-black robes, the High Ogre lay in perfect repose. Her blue skin wore a sheen that his own lacked, and her long tresses draped a face that seemed shaped by the gods. Her lips and eyelids had been painted gold, and to gaze at her was to think she was no more than twenty summers old and dead only that very day. Yet Dauroth knew that she had likely lived three to four times longer than he and had gained far more wisdom in the arts.
That she was much shorter and lacking the talons and barbed elbows of a Titan did not in the least disturb Dauroth or the others. Through the knowledge originally granted him by the ancestral spirit, Dauroth understood that only the most skilled among the High Ogres actually achieved the mighty likenesses worn by him and his followers. That they had been given that gift reflected the hopes their forebears had invested in them.
Dauroth glanced down to where the female’s hands lay, studying her long, slim fingers, naked of any adornment.
Frowning, Dauroth eyed the glittering case in which she lay then glanced at Hundjal. “You are certain that the spell of decay on the tomb’s other contents has been removed, my pupil?”