Staff of Shigmar: Chapter 10, Part 2

19 May 2026

We return with the second part of the tenth chapter in the serialization of the second book of our epic, Staff of Shigmar, and follow our heroes as they try and survive the fire realm, where the environment assaults them, and all their efforts are focused on survival. . . . (16 February 2015) We remind all readers that this book, Staff of Shigmar, as also the first book, is free for download from Smashwords! Glossary links: Book 2, Book 1

Chapter 10, Part 2

They stood on a small, round, stone area, surrounded by what looked like a cross between liquid fire and molten rock, flames dancing across the surface. The heat haze made it difficult to see very far, but a raised stone pathway extended as far as they could see. Blakstar nodded toward the pathway, and Tevvy moved down it, scanning the stones in front of him before stepping forward. The others followed.

“Now I understand,” Klaybear said to Thal.

Thal gave him a questioning look, but refrained from speaking.

“What Rokwolf meant,” Klaybear replied, “when he described traveling through the Desert of Thruplar, beyond the Skergrut Escarpment, as trying to walk through water about to boil.”

Thal smiled and nodded.

They trudged forward in silence, each withdrawn into himself. After ten minutes, the water dried from their hoods, and Blakstar took one of the water bags he carried, pouring some over Tevvy’s hood, until the water dripped, splashing to the black stones, turning instantly to steam. He did the same for Klaybear, Thal, and then himself, which virtually emptied the water bag. He slung it over his shoulder, each drank from his personal waterskin, and they trudged forward again. Five minutes later, Klaybear’s orthek expired, so they stopped; he renewed the orthek, and each drank. The path never varied, never ended, moving inexorably forward through the heat and bubbling flames. Five minutes later, they stopped and Blakstar emptied the second water bag over their heads; ten minutes after that, their hoods dried again and the orthek expired. Klaybear handed the third water bag to Blakstar, who started pouring, while Klaybear renewed his orthek. They paused for a moment when these actions were done, so that Klaybear could refill the water bags and each person’s waterskin. These actions became a monotonous routine: empty a water bag, take a drink, renew the orthek, another drink, empty a second water bag, drink, orthek, third water bag, drink, refill, first bag, drink, orthek, drink, second, drink, third, orthek, drink, refill, the path never varied, going straight on, four times through this routine, the path went on, five times, stumbling forward, six times, Tevvy fell forward, burning his hands on the stones; Blakstar lifted him, helped him to drink; seven times, and Thal stumbled, helped up by Klaybear; Klaybear collapsed after refilling the bags; Blakstar and Thal helped him to his feet; Blakstar tripped, nearly stumbling off the path into the bubbling, liquid flame; eight times, and Klaybear could no longer produce water or renew the orthek.

“It’s time,” Thal croaked, “to use our first potion.”

The others nodded, and each took out one of the small bottles, which were still ice cold, and each drank eagerly. The temperature around them seemed to drop, and the environment became tolerable. Klaybear was then able to refill the water bags and skins. They moved forward again, strength renewed by the icy cold potion, the water soaking their hoods evaporated more slowly while the potion was effective, lengthening the time to fifteen minutes. After the third drenching of their hoods, and Klaybear refilling their bags and skins, the effects of the potion began to wear off, and they began again to stumble forward. They returned to their previous routine, first water bag, drink, renew orthek, drink, second water bag, drink, third, drink, orthek, refill, but this happened only twice before Klaybear was again unable to produce more water. The path continued forward, lost in the heat haze, with no end in sight. They drank their second potion, which carried them forward again for an hour before expiring, and when it did, Klaybear no longer had the energy to refill their bags. They staggered on, Tevvy soon falling down, unable to rise, even though the stone burned his hands and face. Blakstar wearily picked the fallen awemi up and slung him over his shoulders, staggering on; Thal stumbled, falling forward into Klaybear, who turned to lift him, pulled one arm over his shoulder, and staggered on; Tevvy, limp, Thal wheezing in Klaybear’s ear, the two stronger wethem staggering forward under the added burden, wringing drops out of empty waterskins, staggering, tripping, bumping into Blakstar, both falling to the stone.

The air felt suddenly cooler, although still oppressive; the stone under them did not burn. Klaybear pushed himself up and saw that they were on a large circle of stone, which explained why they felt cooler. He shook Thal, who managed to get to his hands and knees, and they both crawled forward to where Blakstar lay with Tevvy on his back, shaking him. They looked up, hearing a croaking sound.

“Water,” the voice croaked, “please, water.”

They saw what looked like a bundle of rags, a red-skinned arm reaching toward them. They crawled toward the fallen wethi, Tevvy slipping from Blakstar’s back as they reached the fallen person.

“Help me,” the voice croaked, and the face was red, barely recognizable as a man. “Water,” he croaked again.

They looked from the fallen man, to their fallen companion, who did not move, but appeared to be in a similar state.

“Please,” the voice from the fallen man croaked, “one last drink to ease my passing,” he implored.

They looked from one to another, and Blakstar reached for the only water left, the Waters of Life. “There is only one swallow left,” he said, taking the special skin from his belt.

“You should give that to Tevvy,” Thal whispered, barely able to speak.

Blakstar shook his head. “This man’s condition is worse,” he rasped, “his need greater.”

“But he’s about to die,” Thal protested.

“We are all about to die,” Blakstar countered sharply, “and the kortexi code is clear: I must help him, although it costs me my life,” he corrected himself, “costs all our lives.”

Klaybear nodded, constrained by his own code of conduct.

The kortexi pulled out the stopper and poured the last few drops of the Waters into the wethi’s open, parched mouth. For a moment, his skin color reverted to normal, his breathing eased, his eyes cleared, and he looked straight into Blakstar’s eyes. “Thank you, lord,” he whispered. “Your sacrifice will not go unrewarded.” With a sigh, the wethi went limp, his life spent.

Wordlessly, Blakstar struggled to stand and lift the lifeless, nameless wethi. The kortexi staggered toward the nearest edge of the stone circle, lifting the body over his head and hurling it into the bubbling, flaming liquid. They heard a slap as it hit the liquid flame, heard it hissing and sizzling as the flames consumed it. Blakstar watched for a moment, then turned to his companions where they lay at the center of the circle.

“Let the heat and flames that have taken his life, cleanse and purify his remains,” Blakstar whispered, staggering closer to where the others were, but he stumbled before he reached them, fell to his knees, stretched his hand toward them, and fell on his face.

Thal groaned and slumped next to Tevvy.

Klaybear turned his head, and he saw that all of his companions were still. He cradled his head on one of his arms. “Oh, Klare, I’m sorry,” he sighed.

Next time we return to Rokwolf and Klare as they tend and try to heal Klare’s mother and sister, the only survivors from Klare’s family, the only survivors of the destruction of Kalbant. For those who wish to read on, get a full ebook copy from Smashwords for free! If you prefer print, purchase your copy from the link provided. Good reading!