Staff of Shigmar: Chapter 15, Part 1

25 June 2026

Today we return to the fortunes of our heroes in Shigmar’s tomb, in this serialization of the second book of our epic fantasy, Staff of Shigmar. We follow Blakstar, Thalamar, Klaybear, and Tevvy as they finally escape from the realm of ice. . . .(8 June 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 15, Part 1

Rod making is a most delicate art, depending entirely upon the inherent power and actual experience of the rod maker. The most basic rod, constructed by initiates of our order, is made from the most basic material, clay. . . . The most powerful rods are constructed by the most experienced and powerful maghem from the rarest of all materials, platinum, which legend says comes from the broken body of a platinum aperu, who wrapped herself around the core of our world, preventing its destruction shortly after its formation. . . .

from Annals of Melbarth, Third Series, Early Lectures of the Hierarchs
Lecture by Hierarch Skrifeki, Keeper of Records

Blakstar moved forward to lower the visor on Tevvy’s hood, and saw that the awemi’s eyes had lost their color. His hands faltered.

“Is that you, Klaybear?” Tevvy asked, his head moving toward the sounds.

“I’m here,” Klaybear said in a whisper.

Tevvy’s head turned toward the sound. “I’m afraid,” he stammered, “something has happened to my eyes.”

“You stepped into the brightness without protecting your eyes,” Blakstar said, dully, and he reached out again and lowered the visor on the awemi’s hood.

“I . . . , uh,” Tevvy stuttered again, “I thought you would not need me, so I decided to scout ahead, in case we were pursued by the creatures, so we’d know where to go. When I got to the top of the tunnel, before I could cover my eyes, the light flashed so brightly . . . ,” he hesitated, not wanting to say what happened.

“And now,” Blakstar finished, “you cannot see anything.”

“Can you help me, Klaybear?” Tevvy asked. “Aren’t you kailum able to heal blindness?”

“I’m afraid,” Klaybear sighed, “that it is beyond my ability, although Klare might be able to help you, since she’s better at healing than I am.”

“Well then,” Tevvy said, rising to his feet, “you’ll have to send me to her when we get back to the tomb.”

Thal shook his head, but did not speak.

“First,” Blakstar said, “we have to get out of here.” He put one hand on his forehead and scanned the horizon. They stood on the edge of a flat, white plain, with the dirty, white mountains behind them. The kortexi turned to the left, then all the way to the right, then back to center. “I think,” he said hesitantly, pointing, “there is something in that direction.”

“What?” Thal asked.

“A rise in an otherwise completely flat plain,” he replied. “We need some way to lead him,” he noted softly, pointing at Tevvy.

The tekson looked at each other for a moment, then Thal held out his rod and whispered, “kresko.” The rod started to grow longer, stopping at a dozen feet when Thal waved his hand. He held it out for Klaybear. “You take that end, and we’ll place him between us.”

The green kailu nodded, taking the end of the rod in his right hand and holding the rod behind him. Blakstar took Tevvy’s arm and steered him next to Thal’s lengthened rod.

“Hold onto Thal’s rod,” Blakstar said after placing the awemi’s hand upon it.

“Where are the others?” Tevvy asked.

“I’m in front of you,” Klaybear said.

“And I’m behind,” Thal added.

“I’ll be in front,” Blakstar said, moving in front of Klaybear, the hard packed snow crunching under his boots, although his feet made hardly any impression. “Distance is hard to judge in the brightness, but I’d guess the rise is several miles away, maybe more.”

On their first steps forward, first a breeze, then a wind, and finally, a blast of frigid air, blew straight at them; their movement dragged, so Tevvy had no trouble keeping up.

“I think we’re going the right way,” Thal shouted.

“What makes you say that?” Blakstar shouted back.

“The wind,” Thal replied.

Blakstar nodded, trudging forward into the teeth of the gale.

How much time passed, Blakstar could not tell; the light never changed; the wind never varied, and like the fire realm, they trudged forward until Blakstar felt Klaybear’s warming orthek run out. Then they would huddle around Tevvy, and Klaybear would pull off one mitten so he could touch each of them and renew the orthek. And it was only blind Tevvy’s awemi sense of direction that kept them from veering off and walking in an endless circle: the wind, they discovered, moved with them.

“Left a bit,” Tevvy would shout to Klaybear, who then shouted to Blakstar. “There,” Tevvy would shout, and they trudged on until Tevvy shouted again. “Right, now. That’s good.” And so it went on for what could have been minutes, or hours, or days, or centuries; none could tell. Blakstar kept going forward until, after more than a dozen renewals of the warming orthek, Tevvy stumbled, and Blakstar hoisted him onto his back; then Thal stumbled, and Klaybear helped him to his feet and supported him as they walked; then Klaybear and Thal stumbled and fell. Blakstar turned and saw they had fallen, staggering back to where they were. He had to drop Tevvy onto the ground, then he tried to pull Thal up, failed, and tried to lift Klaybear to his feet, but the attempt only drove him to his knees. He looked around and the wind stopped howling at them; his vision cleared, and he saw that they were near the top of the rise he had seen. Crawling to the top, he scraped away the snow and found a black stone, covered with runes, glowing softly with green light. He took out his sword and touched the golden glowing pommel stone to the symbol that would lead them back to the tomb of Shigmar. The light folded around him and the hilltop, and all went dark, but the air he breathed was now warm. Lifting his visor, he saw that they were all sprawled on the floor of the room in Shigmar’s tomb. He pulled off his hood, mittens, and coat, tossing them aside; he paused, for he heard a new sound in the room: the sound of water falling. Turning, he saw that the crates were no longer stacked against the wall of the tomb, but there was a simple fountain, and he felt that familiar sensation tickling the bridge of his nose. He crawled across the stone floor to the fountain, put his mouth under the stream of falling water, and drank the Waters of Life. He felt both warmth and energy surging from the center of his stomach out to the tips of his fingers and toes; his feet and legs felt suddenly hot, so he turned, and with his back against the stone rim of the fountain, stripped off his furry pants and boots. He stood and went to the cot where he had left the rest of his gear to retrieve the special container. He filled it at the fountain, went to Thal, pulled open the face flap of his hood, and lifted his head and poured the Waters into his mouth. The white maghi drank eagerly for a moment, then his eyes flew open and he sat up.

Come back Saturday for the further adventures of our heroes in Shigmar’s tomb! In the meantime, get a full ebook copy from Smashwords for free! If you prefer print, purchase your copy from the link provided. Good reading!