The Hollow

Solus

They emerged on a sandy plateau west of Alara, higher in the hills toward the Talon mountains. The rain had cleared, and a hazy orange sun approached the short peaks. Within a short distance, the flooding water fanned out wide and slow, offering easy progress to dry land. Nom at first thought only mist clouded the air, but an odor of burning flesh drew attention to large smouldering heaps in the shallow water, hissing, billowing smoke, cast into red shadow by the western sun.

A tall darkness walked toward them on the water and resolved into a man riding a huge horse, followed by three others. Piles of burning horses, realized Nom. But the horses under these riders were terrifyingly demented, with eyes behind shuttered blinders, exaggerated musculature barely contained by their skins, and blood running down their spur-cut flanks. The lead horse made an unnatural, guttural sound, far from a snort, that sent shudders through Nom's weary muscles. These demented destriers were barely horses anymore. The riders wore shemaghs with lightweight cloaks, and casually held repeating crossbows. Even more alarming, two men wearing goggles walked behind riders. Beyond the newcomers rested a large cart in the haze with other people nearby, and possibly more animals harnessed to it.

Ahden moved to place the semi-conscious woman on the ground, but the leader stopped him with a slight flourish of his weapon, and a comment, "Not a move, grub." His sonorously deep voice amplified his obvious distaste. "On second thought, go ahead, I haven't shot anyone yet today."

"Watch it, goggle-girl," said another. She aimed her weapon at Omega, then waved two fingers to the seers. They stepped forward and removed their intricately engraved goggles.

"Old man," said the leader. He reached back into a saddle-bag and pulled out chains and shackles. He tossed them on the ground in front of Nom, splashing his legs. "Bind her hands."

Nom's hands itched to grab for his spear, but each of those crossbows would get off one, and possibly a second shot before he could pull it out. He eyed Dev, who had a thumb on the hilt of his mace. Reaching the shields on his pack would again be too slow. Nom reluctantly bent to grab the chains. He turned them over in his hands and found familiar glyphs carved into the restraints.

"Time," said that deep voice, "is running short. You won't last long in Zulm, old man, but at least it's time. Best not cut it shorter, here. Now, bind her hands." Nom hadn't heard of Zulm, but seeing no recourse, he moved to put the restraints on Omega's wrists.

"You don't need to lock us up," Omega called to the man over Nom's shoulder. "We can talk about your demands. Who are you?"

"There is a demand placed on me," he said, "and only one that I place on you, and that is: lock you up. Now," he raised his crossbow, "or never." Nom sadly looked Omega in the eyes, then locked the shackles around her wrists.

"Time?" said a voice off to the side. Everyone turned to look, surprised. A man who had not been there a moment before stood equidistant from the two groups. He wore a wide-brimmed hat and a short cloak, both brown with dust. Nom recognized the man from Ahden's weapon display in Alara, but his scarf was now tied around his eyes like a blindfold. He finished his thought, "Time is fluid. You said so yourself, Khargis: 'now, never,' it's all the same beast."

"Don't care if you know me, stranger," said Khargis in his deep voice, "don't care who you are, don't care how you arrived, don't care if you're blind. So it should come as no surprise, I don't care that you'll be dead in seconds."

In the time it took Khargis and the others to turn their crossbows to him, the stranger waved his vertical palms in unison, then tapped his chin. Nom felt the air slam into him from all directions, almost as it did in Luxenta, but he could still move. He saw the crossbows fire, but slowly. The bolts decelerated and gracefully arced to the ground. Nom's feet left the shallow water, and he kicked out in a panic, stirring the water into the air like oil. He ended up spinning, and knocked into Omega, propelling her backwards. Ahden already had his sword out, and the woman he had carried floated in front of him. The riders drifted up from their struggling horses. Deciding Ahden had the right idea, Nom freed his spear.