TWELFTH INSTALLMENT FOR QUEST FOR THE RINGS
12. Into the heat
"I trust you'll sleep well." Master Filiby's departing remark seemed both insincere and ridiculous, given that there had already been an attempt on our lives that night. I thanked him for it nonetheless, before I slipped through the bronze double doors and into the relative safety of my room. I had nearly reached the bed when a knock at my door put me at guard.
"It's me," Legolas called from outside. Of course, I thought sheepishly. Would danger really come in through the front door? And did I think it would be so polite as to knock before entering? I called for him to come in and quickly crossed the intervening space in as long strides as my dress would permit. When he entered, he closed the doors behind him and took me in his arms. Feeling my body sink into his, I breathed a deep sigh of relief.
"We made it through dinner," I commented.
"We did, but did Rorimac?" he asked, which completely ruined my mood, bringing back the knot of fear in my stomach. "We'd better go see him." I reluctantly disentangled myself from his lithe, strong arms, and we quickly made our way down to Rorimac's room.
We found him all but unchanged, lying on the bed where we had left him. I lifted my hand to his forehead, and discovered a cool layer of sweat. Minute rivulets ran down his temples to his thick neck, and disappeared into the pillow behind his head.
"His breathing is regular and his pulse is strong," Legolas assured me. "He'll be fine. Who I'm really worried about, is Gandalf."
"It's not like him to just disappear and leave us no warning," I agreed. "He must have decided to do a little extra exploring, and is either lost or.discovered," I finished.
"There is only one course left to us. We have to leave Rorimac and search for Gandalf. Go change into your tunic and meet me back here as soon as you are able." I nodded once and followed him out to the hallway. Although I worried about Gandalf and his mysterious disappearance, I felt almost certain that leaving Rorimac again would mean his death.
I found my clothing exactly where I had left it on the end of the bed. I slipped out of the silk dress, which whispered pleasantly as it slid off my skin, and hurriedly garbed myself again.
Craning his elegant neck, Legolas peered around yet another of the ceaseless corners into a corridor that looked identical to the preceding one. With a nod, he beckoned me to follow him into the silent hall. "We don't have any idea whether or not he passed this way," I commented after that hall failed to yield any clues as to Gandalf's whereabouts. "We're playing this 'hit or miss'. He could be in the complete opposite direction." No sooner were the words out of my mouth, than we entered a corridor unlike any of the others we had passed.
It was dark. There were no lit torches to illuminate this hall; in fact, it was only the empty sconces that suggested that light had ever seen this corridor. A heavy layer of dust had collected over the carpet, a testament to the complete lack of activity in the area. We were in the west wing.
"Look," Legolas said softly. "Footprints, on the left side."
"Are they Gandalf's?"
"I can't tell, but more than one someone has used this corridor recently. It is our best lead." The footprints lead steadily toward the obscured end of the west wing corridor, but when we reached it, Legolas let out a grunt of surprise. "They just end. The footprints lead to nowhere."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Oof!" his head cracked painfully against the iron bars of the cage as Gandalf jerked awake. His conscious was immediately assaulted by the cramping in his legs, and back, and neck. He did not have to suffer much longer; the goblin guards thrust the rusted key into the lock, and roughly hauled Gandalf out.
Falling onto his hands and knees, Gandalf's world reeled as pain swamped his mind and the blood rushed back into dead limbs. He could barely lift his head to glare at the proudly tall form of Melnion who wore a twisted half-smile as he gazed down at his prisoner.
"It's a pity you couldn't make it to dinner, Gandalf," he began. "It was really quite a splendid affair, what with an Elf in attendance. We don't often see many of their kind here," Melnion continued in a conversational tone, all the while addressing the prostrate old man on the floor. "But, oh, it was such a shame that Master Rorimac was unable to attend as well. I'm sure he had as valid an excuse for missing it as you did." His lips curled cruelly upward with the suggestion. Gandalf bent his neck until his forehead touched the warm floor stones. Rorimac, dead! And soon enough I'll join him.
"Oh, not to worry, Master Gandalf, I would never leave Tarrodwen and Legolas out. I'm sure you'll all be reunited shortly. In fact, I'll personally ensure that you're there to greet them.on the other side." Melnion made a short gesture to the waiting guards, and abruptly they hauled Gandalf up by the armpits and dragged him after the already retreating figure of the emperor.
Melnion strode towards a corridor that emitted a suffocating heat. He led the guards deeper and deeper into his inferno; the heat intensified with every step. By the time they reached the first chamber of nests, Gandalf was delirious and nearly unconscious from the extreme temperature. His vision blurred and the scarlet form of the emperor melted into the swirling surroundings.
The heat affected Melnion not at all. Showing no signs of physical discomfort, the emperor strode on with an air of confidence. As they reached the vast cavern, the first of the dragon egg nests, Melnion felt his pulse begin to quicken. He was so close to his dream, his destiny! "Soon," he whispered to glassy-shelled obelisks, "Soon."
Melnion swirled to a stop at the edge of giant pool of magma. The goblin guards hauled their burden to their master's feet and let him fall into heap before retreating several paces. Sweat ran down their hideous cheeks and dripped off the tips of crooked noses, but the goblins paid it no mind; they had fixed their beady, black eyes on the emperor, waiting to see the punishment he extolled on the unfortunate prisoner.
"Your time is up, Gandalf. Your quest has failed. Now, while witnessing what will be my ultimate victory and glory, you will die knowing I conquered." When Gandalf made no move, the emperor's jaw clenched tight and a hatred burning with the intensity of the surrounding fire blazed in his eyes. He bent and roughly grabbed the old man's chin, lifting the fevered face up to his own, hoping to see in it some sign of terror, but all he could find was determined resignation. Disgust and loathing filled Melnion as he gazed into the visage of the once mighty Gandalf.
"You are nothing," he spat. "And now you will die!" With a sudden surge of rage, Melnion grabbed Gandalf's tunic and pulled his arm back taught, ready to hurl the old man into the liquid rock.
Crack! The ear-splitting sound reverberated throughout the cavern, and Melnion's muscles froze instantly. Eagerly, his eyes searched out the source, and at last they came to rest on a glassy egg, its surface swirled scarlet and black. A deep fissure marred the otherwise perfect exterior.
12. Into the heat
"I trust you'll sleep well." Master Filiby's departing remark seemed both insincere and ridiculous, given that there had already been an attempt on our lives that night. I thanked him for it nonetheless, before I slipped through the bronze double doors and into the relative safety of my room. I had nearly reached the bed when a knock at my door put me at guard.
"It's me," Legolas called from outside. Of course, I thought sheepishly. Would danger really come in through the front door? And did I think it would be so polite as to knock before entering? I called for him to come in and quickly crossed the intervening space in as long strides as my dress would permit. When he entered, he closed the doors behind him and took me in his arms. Feeling my body sink into his, I breathed a deep sigh of relief.
"We made it through dinner," I commented.
"We did, but did Rorimac?" he asked, which completely ruined my mood, bringing back the knot of fear in my stomach. "We'd better go see him." I reluctantly disentangled myself from his lithe, strong arms, and we quickly made our way down to Rorimac's room.
We found him all but unchanged, lying on the bed where we had left him. I lifted my hand to his forehead, and discovered a cool layer of sweat. Minute rivulets ran down his temples to his thick neck, and disappeared into the pillow behind his head.
"His breathing is regular and his pulse is strong," Legolas assured me. "He'll be fine. Who I'm really worried about, is Gandalf."
"It's not like him to just disappear and leave us no warning," I agreed. "He must have decided to do a little extra exploring, and is either lost or.discovered," I finished.
"There is only one course left to us. We have to leave Rorimac and search for Gandalf. Go change into your tunic and meet me back here as soon as you are able." I nodded once and followed him out to the hallway. Although I worried about Gandalf and his mysterious disappearance, I felt almost certain that leaving Rorimac again would mean his death.
I found my clothing exactly where I had left it on the end of the bed. I slipped out of the silk dress, which whispered pleasantly as it slid off my skin, and hurriedly garbed myself again.
Craning his elegant neck, Legolas peered around yet another of the ceaseless corners into a corridor that looked identical to the preceding one. With a nod, he beckoned me to follow him into the silent hall. "We don't have any idea whether or not he passed this way," I commented after that hall failed to yield any clues as to Gandalf's whereabouts. "We're playing this 'hit or miss'. He could be in the complete opposite direction." No sooner were the words out of my mouth, than we entered a corridor unlike any of the others we had passed.
It was dark. There were no lit torches to illuminate this hall; in fact, it was only the empty sconces that suggested that light had ever seen this corridor. A heavy layer of dust had collected over the carpet, a testament to the complete lack of activity in the area. We were in the west wing.
"Look," Legolas said softly. "Footprints, on the left side."
"Are they Gandalf's?"
"I can't tell, but more than one someone has used this corridor recently. It is our best lead." The footprints lead steadily toward the obscured end of the west wing corridor, but when we reached it, Legolas let out a grunt of surprise. "They just end. The footprints lead to nowhere."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Oof!" his head cracked painfully against the iron bars of the cage as Gandalf jerked awake. His conscious was immediately assaulted by the cramping in his legs, and back, and neck. He did not have to suffer much longer; the goblin guards thrust the rusted key into the lock, and roughly hauled Gandalf out.
Falling onto his hands and knees, Gandalf's world reeled as pain swamped his mind and the blood rushed back into dead limbs. He could barely lift his head to glare at the proudly tall form of Melnion who wore a twisted half-smile as he gazed down at his prisoner.
"It's a pity you couldn't make it to dinner, Gandalf," he began. "It was really quite a splendid affair, what with an Elf in attendance. We don't often see many of their kind here," Melnion continued in a conversational tone, all the while addressing the prostrate old man on the floor. "But, oh, it was such a shame that Master Rorimac was unable to attend as well. I'm sure he had as valid an excuse for missing it as you did." His lips curled cruelly upward with the suggestion. Gandalf bent his neck until his forehead touched the warm floor stones. Rorimac, dead! And soon enough I'll join him.
"Oh, not to worry, Master Gandalf, I would never leave Tarrodwen and Legolas out. I'm sure you'll all be reunited shortly. In fact, I'll personally ensure that you're there to greet them.on the other side." Melnion made a short gesture to the waiting guards, and abruptly they hauled Gandalf up by the armpits and dragged him after the already retreating figure of the emperor.
Melnion strode towards a corridor that emitted a suffocating heat. He led the guards deeper and deeper into his inferno; the heat intensified with every step. By the time they reached the first chamber of nests, Gandalf was delirious and nearly unconscious from the extreme temperature. His vision blurred and the scarlet form of the emperor melted into the swirling surroundings.
The heat affected Melnion not at all. Showing no signs of physical discomfort, the emperor strode on with an air of confidence. As they reached the vast cavern, the first of the dragon egg nests, Melnion felt his pulse begin to quicken. He was so close to his dream, his destiny! "Soon," he whispered to glassy-shelled obelisks, "Soon."
Melnion swirled to a stop at the edge of giant pool of magma. The goblin guards hauled their burden to their master's feet and let him fall into heap before retreating several paces. Sweat ran down their hideous cheeks and dripped off the tips of crooked noses, but the goblins paid it no mind; they had fixed their beady, black eyes on the emperor, waiting to see the punishment he extolled on the unfortunate prisoner.
"Your time is up, Gandalf. Your quest has failed. Now, while witnessing what will be my ultimate victory and glory, you will die knowing I conquered." When Gandalf made no move, the emperor's jaw clenched tight and a hatred burning with the intensity of the surrounding fire blazed in his eyes. He bent and roughly grabbed the old man's chin, lifting the fevered face up to his own, hoping to see in it some sign of terror, but all he could find was determined resignation. Disgust and loathing filled Melnion as he gazed into the visage of the once mighty Gandalf.
"You are nothing," he spat. "And now you will die!" With a sudden surge of rage, Melnion grabbed Gandalf's tunic and pulled his arm back taught, ready to hurl the old man into the liquid rock.
Crack! The ear-splitting sound reverberated throughout the cavern, and Melnion's muscles froze instantly. Eagerly, his eyes searched out the source, and at last they came to rest on a glassy egg, its surface swirled scarlet and black. A deep fissure marred the otherwise perfect exterior.