Curse Of The Dark Wind (Book 6) by Charles E. Yallowitz Page A

“I would have talked to Nyx or Delvin about this, but they are busy. Both of them have become obsessed with planning for our next encounter with Stephen. He put a fright into them, which has yet to weaken even after all these months. Perhaps it is best that I keep these thoughts to myself.”
    “Not after making me curious,” the forest tracker insists. He draws a flask from his belt pouch and takes a quick drink, feeling his body warm up from the liquid. “Is this about how it’s strange that we’ve been given an artifact lost during the Great Cataclysm while all previous champions seem to have gone without it?”
    “Again I forget how observant and insightful you can be,” the barbarian says, chuckling and slapping Luke on the back with enough force to knock him off. He catches his friend by the collar, pulling him back onto the wall. “We saw how the Compass Key opened up the island temple. It is safe to assume it does the same for the others. So how did Gabriel expect the previous champions to get inside without this? They would have been denied at the door, leaving them to follow false trails until the Baron’s agents picked them off. Something does not seem right about this.”
    “Unless the gods decide to tell us, we’re never going to know,” Luke claims, shifting uncomfortably. He gets to his feet and stretches his legs, the slippery wall not hindering his balance. “There are a lot of possibilities. Previous champions could have started at a different temple and found their way in through a crack in the defenses. If the Baron’s agents can slip corruptive forces into these places then one can assume there are other entrances. For example, the Island of Pallice could have been accessed by using water breathing magic. Although, the monsters would have devoured the champions before they got inside. Another possibility is that the Compass Key magically returns to Gaia whenever the champions are defeated.”
    Timoran turns the mysterious relic over in his hands, catching a glint of light off the piece of obsidian. He rubs the gem with his thumb, the feel of it oddly comforting even though his mind is reminding him about his fear of magic. With a shake of his head, he breaks his trance and wipes the gathered snow off his lap.
    “If the Compass Key returned to the prison we found it in then the monsters and barriers would not have been there,” the large man whispers, a deep frown on his face. He rubs one of the scars on his body as he thinks back to his time in the ruins beneath Gaia. “Nobody had been there for centuries. I am sure of that. It is possible that the gods lost track of this item after the world changed. According to the scholars, many species and cities were destroyed, so a prison would not have been a priority to our ancestors.”
    “You realize we’re never going to find an answer. At least not now,” the shivering half-elf says, taking another sip from his flask. He shudders and winces as if the liquid is causing him pain. “Sari loves this fae water, but it’s so sweet. It gets worse with every taste too. I can’t feel my teeth after that last shot. At least it cleans my body and keeps me warm.”
    Timoran stands and shakes the snow out of his hair. “That is why barbarians use Ifrit mead.”
    “I’m trying to cut back.”
    “Why would you do that?”
    “I felt like I was spending too much free time drinking,” Luke answers while stretching his arms and jumping in place. Several of his joints pop from the movement, forcing him to stop and groan. “I need to stay in shape and get stronger, which won’t happen if I spend all my time in a tavern. No offense, Timoran, since I know drinking is very important to your people. I simply have to cut back and avoid getting myself drunk to the point of blacking out.”
    “It takes a wise man to admit his limits and work to stay within them,” the barbarian claims with a small bow. He places a gentle hand on his friend’s shoulder