The Marenon Chronicles Collection

Chapter Six





With time running short and the Stühocs hot on their trail, Kaden and Silas charged through the woods at a grueling pace. Silas’ exhaustion had long been replaced with his last reserves of adrenaline. After what felt like a marathon run, they had made it near the entrance of the cave. Silas reached to the ground and picked up the shotgun that had been left where he had cradled his dying grandfather just before being knocked unconscious. So much had happened so quickly. The pain of loss for his grandfather had not yet grown inside of him merely because of his focus on his own survival. But grieving would come in time. He slung the shotgun over his shoulder. It would be useful should the Stühocs catch up to them before Silas and Kaden could reach the gate. Near the entrance of the cave Silas saw Marcus and Theron’s bodies where the two had left them a short time ago. Silas’ stomach twisted in knots, and he had to look away from their corpses.

“How deep into the cave is this gate?” Silas asked looking anywhere but at the ground.

Kaden didn't answer quickly. Silas watched as he studied the cave from the firelight of the torches. Rock formations towered throughout the cave. It was a wonderful, natural beauty marred only by the memory of death and torture taken place over a two-day span.

“I came here from a different location,” Kaden said, almost to himself. “But Garland assured me that the gate was through this cave.”

“Where exactly does this gate lead?”

“Marenon,” Kaden said.

“Mare-what?”

“Marenon. It’s where your grandfather is now. It’s where you will be safe.”

Silas shook his head confused and drained. Kaden seemed to be speaking nonsense, but to his credit, actual Stühocs had just attacked them. Until recently, Silas had not thought that possible. Maybe it didn’t make sense now, but he would have to trust Kaden and wait for answers. Now was not that time.

They made their way through the cave, following the path. They marched steeper down toward the gate Garland had said was there. Neither Kaden nor Silas knew how far it was. It could have been any distance.

Kaden grabbed one of the torches hanging on the wall that had long since gone out and lit it once again for their descent. The path narrowed considerably as they moved and they soon found themselves hunched over with little space to run. Knowing that the Stühocs were on their trail and that a Stühoc lord named Maroke led the vile creatures, Silas felt a surge of panic at their slow mobility. Several times, the sword and gun over his shoulder hit the cave top as they moved forward. He pulled the gun to his side and gripped it tightly. It had only two shells and though he preferred the sword, the gun would do well in an enclosed space.

They continued down the shaft until Silas felt as though he might topple forward in his effort to crouch low enough. The fire from Kaden’s torch flickered faintly ahead of him, calling him to follow. Soon, the cave began to expand and the two of them found themselves at the end of it. It had broadened into a bare, dusty chamber and the ceiling rose at least twenty feet above them with the walls no more than fifteen feet apart. Compared to what they had been traveling through, it felt rather large. A red, stone wall, barren of any gate they had hoped to find, stood in front of them. Kaden swore loudly.

“Where is it?” Silas whispered.

Silas looked behind him, shaking at the thought of the approaching army, hoping they hadn’t tracked their location into the cave.

Kaden searched up and down the wall looking for a hole or a notch to place the medallion as a key. Nothing.

Then there was the sound. A faint yet clear screech came from the distance echoing off of the cave walls, finally reaching the room.

“They’re in the cave,” Silas said, his eyes wide with fear.

“There isn’t much time.”

“Where’s the gate?”

“I don’t know!” Kaden nearly shouted. “I can’t find where I’m supposed to place the medallion!”

Silas's palms were getting sweaty. The cave was cold, but he didn't feel it. His heart pumped blood through his body at a rapid pace, slowly warming his skin from underneath. His body was tired, but he stood rigid with the shotgun resting in his hands ready to blow the head off the first Stühoc Leaper to expose its foul snout. His mind, however, was wide-awake, still plagued with unanswered questions, but thinking about them was pointless. They were facing death. There was no doubt in his mind that this was real. Silas had never been a person that had to pinch himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming. Dreams may be this chilling, but they never hurt this badly. They never left him as exhausted and beaten as he felt now.

He heard Kaden mutter something to himself and then he yelled. “I found it!”

Silas was engrossed with thoughts of the coming horde, too focused to see what Kaden was doing. The war cries grew louder. Silas was certain their bloodthirsty shrieks would send chills into the devil himself.

Kaden placed the medallion in the slot he had found and Silas turned to watch as streaks of blue light began to slither across the blank wall. This was it. Garland had been truthful from the beginning. Perhaps they would not have to face the Stühocs.

Kaden threw the torch to the ground, fixed an arrow in his bow and stood next to Silas.

“It may take a few moments for the gate to open,” Kaden said.

“We might not have a few moments,” Silas said.

“I suppose your grandfather’s training is about to come in handy.”

“Let’s hope the gate opens before we have to find out.”

The wailing and squealing was louder and soon the Stühocs were only seconds away. Silas held the gun steady, finger on the trigger, as Kaden pulled back on his bowstring. They both stood, waiting. The wall behind them was getting brighter with blue light. The gate was almost open.

At the first sight of a Leaper, Kaden sent an arrow sailing, hitting the monster in the chest. Silas let off a shot, sending two of them to the ground at once.

The wall behind seemed to churn into a standing blue liquid, the light fading in and out.

Silas let off his final shot, taking down two more Leapers in a bloody crash. He instantly pulled out his sword taking a defensive position. Once Kaden had finished his quiver of arrows he did the same thing. They had no choice but to let the Stühocs come in close.

Silas stole a glance backward. “How do we know when it’s open?”

“We’ll know!” Kaden said.

In that instant a Leaper jumped toward Silas at full force. He ducked low causing the Leaper to overstep him. He turned and sliced the creature through the ribs sending ashy gray blood pouring to the stone floor.

The Stühocs then unexpectedly became quiet. Silas and Kaden stood ready for another round of attacks, but it didn’t come. From the darkness ahead, breaking the silence with a slow chuckle stood a tall, ominous figure.

“Maroke,” Kaden said through his teeth.

Maroke was nothing like Silas had expected. He was built like a man, but much taller with Human-like facial features. He might have been handsome were it not for all the battle scars streaming down his face and neck on his gray skin. His long, black hair was braided and fell over both of his massive shoulders. His body was clad in metal armor and his arms were larger than Silas’ head, leading down to giant fists holding a sword. Yet as he moved from the shadows, the most unnerving characteristic of Maroke was the Stühoc leader’s red eyes. They glowed in the darkness like fire. The Stühoc smiled, revealing a row of sharp, canine teeth. He held up his arm to the Leapers still pouring into the room, commanding them to move only when he gave the order. Silas scanned the army in front of him. They were outnumbered by at least a hundred.

A droplet of sweat rolled dangerously close to Silas' eyeball nearly causing him to blink and wipe by natural reaction. He feared any movement would trigger the Stühoc’s aggression.

Maroke held his sword ready, but as he entered the chamber, he slowly lowered it and began to chuckle. The laugh made Silas feel sick to his stomach. It was pure evil and it sounded too high for a creature of such great dominance.

“Your plan has failed,” Maroke said. “Garland Ainsley was a fool if he thought he could pull this off.”

“You’re wrong, Maroke,” said Kaden. “The gate is opening. You aren’t coming through with us.”

“You’re outnumbered,” he answered. He turned his head to look at Silas. “And you,” he said. “Don’t be fooled by those that claim to be helping you. Their selfish desire to rescue you is nothing but a ploy to make you a dictator bent on destroying a race. You don’t want to be a part of something like that, do you?”

Silas didn’t know what to say. He stood firm, sword in hand. The gate needed to open. They had no chance against this many enemies.

“The gate’s taking too long,” Kaden whispered.

“Kaden?” Silas said, unable to control the tremor in his voice.

Kaden tightened his grip on his sword and looked at Silas with sympathy.

“There is no escaping,” Maroke said. “Do not give up your lives to buy you time. The gate has not been opened for many years. You need more time than you have. Do not be foolish.”

“I failed,” Kaden said. “I am so sorry, Silas.”

Before Silas could speak he felt a sharp pain run through his chest and the shock of it made him drop his weapon. As he looked down, he saw a sword embedded in his chest, puncturing his heart. Kaden stood, holding the sword’s hilt, staring regretfully at Silas. A shout resounded from Maroke yelling for his guards to take action. As Silas felt his life ebb away, he saw only sadness in Kaden’s eyes. Silas wanted to ask him “Why?” but the words would not form on his lips. He could see that Kaden hated what he had done, but for some reason, this was the only way. The Stühocs were nearly on top of them now.

Kaden knelt down with Silas as he fell to the ground, helping Silas fall softly.

Silas could barely hear as his companion was hit hard on the back of the head. Silas’ body was wet with blood and the pain was unbearable. Finally, the blue-lit room turned completely black and Silas Ainsley was dead.