The Hammer - Cor Series Book I

Corvan cowered behind a boulder as the buraks left the cavern. One was still celebrating the successful hunt with more shrieks.

Corvan slumped against the broad rock. The pain in his shoulder was overwhelmed by an intense ache in his heart. In the few short days he had known Tsarek, they had become more than just traveling companions. A soft sob shook his body and fresh pain shot through his chest. Tsarek had been his only connection to the grandfather he had never known and he could not believe his friend was gone. How could he possibly go on to rescue Kate without Tsarek’s help?

As the sound of the buraks faded away, the enormity of his situation sank in. He was far below the surface of the earth. No one knew where he had gone, so no one would come looking for him. Ever. He couldn't go back through the labyrinth. He needed to go after Kate, but how would he find her? For the first time in his life, Corvan was on his own.

Tsarek's final words filled him with dread. Kate didn't have long to live. If he was to save her, he had to forget about his fears and keep moving down to the Cor. His only hope was to locate the pointed roof of the temple priests.

That must have been what Tsarek meant when he pointed his arms over his head. He knew he was about to be captured and was giving Corvan one last instruction. No, two, for the paws over the mouth was telling Corvan to be quiet, so he could escape the buraks. Tsarek had given his life to save him.

A biting cold was penetrating his sweat-drenched clothes. If he didn't get dry ones on and start moving, hypothermia would set in. Trying not to move his damaged shoulder, he managed to move his pack closer with his slippered feet. At least they were still warm. His cloak, however, was back in the tight crawl.

The leather thongs that had tied the top of the pack down were cut. Why would Tsarek have done that? Pulling the cover open, he discovered that Tsarek had also retrieved the cloak and had stuffed it back into the pack. Slipping the cloak over his head, he carefully lifted the hood over his head. It was wonderful to be warm again.

It took a while to fashion a crude sling for his arm with only one hand, but once it was in place, the pain began to subside. Pulling himself up against the boulder, he noticed that faint patches of purple light were showing up around the cavern. Tsarek must have been right; they had found a way past the labyrinth.

Dragging the heavy pack down the slope, he entered the clearing where Tsarek had been caught. He needed to lighten his load, or he wouldn't get much farther. He was able to lift the pack onto a flat stone with his good arm. As he pulled the rest of his clothes from the pack, the smell of wood smoke and beef jerky wafted out. His stomach growled. In this timeless world, there was no way of knowing when he’d last eaten.

The soggy labels had fallen off the tins, but he discovered it did not matter—he had left the can opener at home. If only Kate had not taken Tsarek's Swiss Army knife. He picked up a familiar rectangular tin. A can of Spam, the kind with an attached key to open it. He flipped it over. The key had broken off.

Why was everything going wrong? Anger welled up, and he threw the can away. Pain shot across his chest as the can bounced off a rock, cracked, and landed in the dirt at his feet, neatly split open along the seam.

Sitting on a rock, he held the tin firmly between his knees and peeled the top back with his good hand. Cold, gritty Spam. It never tasted so good.

Even with the tins out, the pack was still too heavy to carry with one arm. Reluctantly, he pulled out Tsarek's crystal and set it on the floor between his legs. There would be no more music from Tsarek. His tears fell on the tapered crystal, skidding down its length and leaving phosphorescent lines behind them.

He reached out to the crystal, and a tiny spark leaped out to meet his hand. A sound like miniature wind chimes in a summer breeze. As he placed a hand on the crystal, an incredible weariness settled over him. He closed his eyes. "Please help me find a way out of here," he whispered. "I want to go home."

In his mind, he was suddenly surround by a dense fog. Two figures emerged out of the mist. His mother and father. He called out, but they did not hear. Following them through the murky air, he found himself climbing the Castle Rock. His parents passed through the western gap. The fog parted to reveal a figure sitting on a black throne.

It was Kate. A blood red cape draped over her shoulders and a sparkling ring of gems was on her head. Thick black bands encircled both of her wrists.

Corvan's parents knelt before her, begging her to open the door, so their son could come home. Kate raised both hands and pointed to his home. Lightning arced from the bands, and his house dissolved into a pool of molten stone that set the fields alight. The fire roared away to incinerate every house in town in its path. The flames swirled back around his parents. They cried out in pain, and then they too were gone.

"No-o-o-o!" The cavern walls echoed with his cry as he forced his eyes open. How could Kate become an evil queen capable of destroying the whole world? Is this what would happen if he failed to rescue her?

A rumbling crash interrupted his thoughts. The rock face where he and Tsarek had entered had finally collapsed onto the slope. The rocks gained momentum, smashing against each other and sending tremendous shudders through the ground as the slide roared downward and then ground to a halt. He needed to get out of there, and quickly. The avalanche was sure to bring the buraks back. A dense cloud of rock dust closed in about him as if the cave was trying to bury him alive.

Fine dust filled his lungs. He pulled the hood across his face and found he could breathe easily through its fabric. Keeping his head low he waited for the dust to clear.

It was difficult to see through the murky air. He pulled the hammer out. The circles from the hammer's handle were clearly reflected in a tiny round pool at the base of Tsarek's crystal.

His tears had flowed down the crystal and collected in a small depression at its base. Touching the shiny surface, he discovered it was as solid as the crystal itself. When he pressed on the edge a thin circle, like the small round mirror his mother kept in her purse, popped out.

Sitting back, he traced a finger across the surface. The glass rippled and became dark blue with small points of light, like a starry sky.

Hope. He felt it grow in his heart as he looked at the tiny stars. He had made it this far. He was past the Cor shield, and now if he could find Kate, they could find a way out and would see the stars together yet again.

After he slipped the glass into his pocket, Corvan picked up the pack by one of its severed straps and headed toward the exit through which the buraks had gone.