The Rift Tonic (Part 3)
Solomon stepped slowly toward the opposite archway and the pedestal. With the exception of Grim and Gesper’s weak mumbling, there was no noise. The palentite portions of the ceiling were lit providing more than enough light for Solomon to focus on the silver flask.
He had a confidence forged from a smooth blend of arrogance and accomplishment. It was for this trial he was bred and nothing would keep him from it. The room was obviously a trap but one that needed to be sprung. He kept his hammer just above his head ready to bring it down quickly. On the opposite end of the thick iron shaft, was a deadly wedge.
Scattered around the cavern were dry remains of Atakaskin explorers those who had perished trying to reach the Rift Tonic. It’s magic was said to make one from his race fast, strong, even invincible.
His thoughts suddenly scattered when his eyes caught movement from the walls. Slices of the cavern’s sides seemed to shutter a bit then break away. Each layer was replaced by another thin sheet of rock all of it moving toward him in a wave.
“Rockshells?” Solomon recognized the insects now but could not believe the number.
Solomon had never seen the predatory insects so large or in such quantities. He was a bit disappointed, he was hoping for something more.
“Eeeaaa!” His hammer sank into the first rockshell, breaking the large bug in to a shuddering mass of legs and primitive organs.
Long pinchers appeared coinciding with the high squeal of their breathing. The haunting noise filled the hall as the swarm came for Solomon. They were too heavy to fly but had no difficulty climbing over one another in their frenzy.
The Atakaskin warrior laughed then spewed flames in a circle about him. The insect’s advance stopped but only for a moment. It was enough time for Solomon to leap to one side bringing the hammer down on three at a time. Their exoskeletons splitting like eggshells.
Solomon swung his hammer in wide circles along with breathing fire. When the insects began sticking to the hammer’s head, Solomon lowered the wedge end of his weapon and barreled through to one corner. There he could fight with his back to the wall and be at a greater advantage.
He stuck the giant insects down mercilessly. Occasionally, one would make it to his legs or snatch his forearm. Their sharp pincers caught his plating and flesh with crushing force.
But Solomon was too massive and much too savage. His hammer didn’t slow a bit as he dropped his knees into attacker that made it to close. The bodies piled up becoming an even greater bearer to the swarm’s advance. Solomon began laughing uncontrollably. He had been prepared for much worse! Was this a joke?
With a heave, he threw his hammer to the other side of the chamber and began seizing the insects with his bare hands some he had already killed. He tore off heads and pincers with little more than a vicious twist. Then he lowered his shoulder and somersaulted into the heaving rockshells crushing many under the weight of his rolling body.
Only minutes later, Solomon’s hammer crushed the last of his attackers. His blazing eyes glancing about still hungry for another challenger but there was nothing but slight twitching from broken limbs.
The warrior straightened and took stock of his body. There was bleeding up and across his arms but nothing too deep. Around his legs, several of his plates were cracked or pulled away. Solomon wouldn’t admit it but he had taken some wounds.
Then he remembered the hodges. The swarm would surly have come for them as well. He looked to the entrance but didn’t see any movement. He called but there was no answer.
“I have no time to waste on servants.” He turned and caught sight of his prize. The silver flask still sat on its pedestal undisturbed. He dismissed Grim and Gesper. “They were probably chased back into the sanctuary. What value does a hodge have now?”
Solomon took the flask and opened it. Luminance seemed to push the plug out as much as Solomon had pulled it. It was the same light that burned in his body. He smelled the fluid to be sure it was not part of anther trap but it offered nothing to raise his suspicions. He took a small drink from the elixir.
The change took Solomon by complete surprise. He felt power like magma flow into each limb. Bleeding stopped and his body expanded. Gaps were created between his mineral plates but Solomon didn’t care. He took in the rest of the flask and the changes became even greater. A heft of his hammer revealed he had grown almost a span wider and taller! The magic and power of the Rift Tonic was real!
The Atakaskin turned and looked into the next archway. It was larger than the last and he would be able to walk through with his shoulders a bit bent just as he had done with the last tunnel.
Darkness claimed the next chamber. Just like the other rooms, portions of the walls were set with palentite. Solomon spit at the stone and its energy spread up the walls and along the cavern’s roof.
This chamber was as large as the last with anther tunnel on the other side. Resting on another pedestal was a second flask waiting to be claimed.
Solomon vowed not to keep it waiting long. He flexed his body and it responded with a flood of light and heat. The plates on his skin couldn’t cover his larger body and the heat scorched the stone around him. His steps were longer and faster covering ground with alacrity. The Atakaskin didn’t care what would try to stop him. There was nothing short of a god that could stand in his way.
When he reached the middle of the room, Solomon slowed and brought his hammer up. If something was going to try him, it would do it now. As if summoned, a breeze wound its way through the shrine and past Solomon’s body. It disturbed the dust creating a small whirlwind that grew as it blew around the chamber. It weaved its way near the pedestal.
It stopped and a long gray robe with gold embroidery along the edges was picked up and hung in the air. The robe slowed its spinning and filled out as if it surrounded flesh. It bent and an invisible grasp picked up a broadsword.
“I have no fear of illusions and the weapon you hold is little more than a toy.” Solomon voice was had taken on greater volume to match his body.
The phantom brought the sword up and rushed the Atakaskin. Solomon saw the blow coming. Its path was intended for his neck. The hammer’s iron shaft was raised and it blocked the sword with a short explosion of sparks.
Solomon threw his attacker back then brought the hammer down on the wraith. The weapon’s head snagged the robe and sunk an inch into the ground. The blow dissolved the robe’s shape and pinned it to the rock floor. The sword’s blade fell away contacting the rock with an earsplitting smack.
“Too easy. Far too easy.”
Solomon lifted the hammer and stepped back. The robe retook its shape and came for him again. This time it was far quicker. It brought the sword high again then suddenly went low. The sword sunk into the glowing flesh between Solomon’s protective plates and into the lower abdomen.
With the Rift Tonic still flowing through him, Solomon forced through the pain. He took his left hand off the hammer and snatched the robe. He then dropped the hammer and took the robe with both hands ripping it into shreds. Each fragment drifted to the ground like a fallen leaf.
Solomon reached down removing the sword from his body. He had been too slow. It was a wound that could be life threatening. The clear fluid that transported the heat, strength, and light throughout his body was draining. He would be fine if the next portion of Rift Tonic healed him as the other had.
The broadsword was dropped with a clatter. He slung his war hammer across his back shoulder and cupped his wound with his free hand. Solomon only managed another three steps before the wind picked up again.
He turned and the bits of robe became swept up into another whirlwind. Each piece began reassembling, knitting together until it was whole again. Gripped in the phantom’s transparent hand the sword dripped with Solomon’s lifeblood.
It drifted to Solomon’s wounded side and came for him again.
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