Cursed

Gwyna's breath hitched. The barrow's odor was rich and loamy, like freshly tilled soil. But the feeling that had been growing ever since she'd entered this black hole, the life force that radiated against her face was... sick. Like mildew, or dry-rot. Her stomach burbled at its touch.

Oh, gods. She scraped her teeth along her tongue as if to rid herself of the foul taste within the mystic ether. "This is it."

"You sure? Why not this one?" Jerul pointed at the door across the hall. It was less hidden by tree root vines. "Why not that one or the one beside it?"

Klep shot Gwyna a glance and rolled his eyes. "Because it's facing in, you dolt. What do you have, muscles for brains? Them over there are facing out. They're probably traps, or concubines, or something equally worthless."

"You'd know," Jerul said, "thieves like you dug them holes that collapsed that one passage."

"Thieves like me? Like me?" Klep clutched a hand over his heart. "You wound me. Them worked for their loot. I bring fools like you to do the heaving lifting."

Jerul's fists clenched and the plates of his armor strained against their straps.

"Okay, okay, you two." Isla forced her way between the men. She placed a firm hand on Jerul's big chest. "Don't let him get to you." Her gaze switched to Klep. "And you, stop it! Gods know why we brought you along."

"Aw, because you love me." Klep cocked a hip as though he were a trollop on the prowl. Female repellent oozed from his pores in oily waves. "Why don't you stop fondling that sword of yours and try swivin' a man's weapon for a change?"

Isla's freckles drown in a red tide. Her lips welded in a firm line.

Gwyna raked a hand through her deep-walnut tresses. Without intervention, the moon might rise and set again before this was over.

"Actually, Jerul," Gwyna said, "I can feel it. Feel something. From beyond the door." She rolled her shoulders as an apology. "The source, it's different. Defiled."

"Different? How?" Barik said. He was the quintessential dabbler. He was not nearly so sensitive to the strange force all things radiated. His beard further masked the caress that could only be felt upon bare skin.

He unlaced his shirt, exposed his chest and recoiled. "Tor's balls!" He clutched his shirt closed. "That's like -- like -- like bathing in slugs."

Gwyna's stomach heaved. She crossed a sleeve of her flimsy robe over her mouth as though trying to stay a bad odor.

Isla eyed Gwyna. "Lovely image, Barik."

"Perhaps it's the curse," Howie said. He'd been hanging back. Of the six friends, he was the least eager about their little venture.

Klep threw up his hands. "Not this again!"

"Howie, we've been through this," Isla said. "The harvest failed. We've got to eat. Our families have got to eat. The town's got to eat. Lord Barold had a fortune in life. A fortune he stole from the village. This is the easiest way."

"Raiding a man dead five-hundred seasons?"

"Yes, Howie, we agreed. We're just -- taking our forefather's wealth back."

"You agreed." Howie's gaze swept the group. "I think we should place our faith in Frejya."

"Spoken like a true priest," Klep snapped. "Why don't you go take your vows of eternal chastity now? Then you can go cloister yourself somewhere and choke the chicken in honor of her glorious loveliness, but spare the rest of us your piety."

"Klep," Jerul said, "shut up."

"I mean -- look at him. His cassock is white. White! We're in a hole and the hem's not even dirty. What does he do? Raise his dainty skirts. Not even Gwyna's that prissy."

The calm, detached façade Howie regularly presented to the world cracked and then reformed, a little stiffer this time.

"Well then, sticky fingers, how are you going to get into that?" Howie waved at the stone block behind the curtain of roots. "That's no door. It's a plug. Solid granite."

"Hey, it went in." Klep scratched his chin. His voice faded a few decibels. "It can come out." He pondered the door for a moment. "Hoi, there big lug--" He tugged on the rim of Jerul's breast-plate. "--how 'bout you do something about them there vines. You too, lady love." His hand cracked against Isla's ass. He ducked the blonde's backhand.

Isla's eyes shot daggers but she went to work. Jerul joined her and they hauled at the mangle of fine roots that curtained the door. Earth showered the party. Gwyna jumped back and pawed off the dirt, spiders and mildew that showered her hair. "Ew." She reached into the front of her robes and removed an earthworm.

Howie stepped back a safe distance. "Careful you don't bring the barrow down on us."

"They won't bring it down," Klep said. He slugged a wall. "Ow." He shook the abused hand. "See. Solid as a rock."

Jerul went for a larger root. He wrest it from its anchor and brought part of the ceiling with it. A bushel of dirt and pebbles cascaded from the hole. The scent of dry-rot lay heavy in the air. He ducked and shot Gwyna an apologetic smile.

"Gods," Klep said, "careful."

Isla dusted the air with her hand. "Well, there's the door," she said. "Now what?"

Klep shoved the taller, more fit, Isla out of the way. "Well, it's one piece. I don't see any hinges." He pushed on it. It didn't budge

"Or handle." He rapped it with his knuckles and winced. There was barely any sound other than skin striking stone. "And thick. It's like..."

"It wasn't supposed to be opened," Howie said.

"Awe, come on, who'd make a door that wasn't supposed to be opened?"

"It's a plug."

"No, it can't be." Klep turned to face the granite block once more. "Why seal it?"

"So nobody enters, you fo--"

"What's this writing say?" Barik interrupted. He pointed over Klep's shoulder. Darkened patches, little more than shadows upon the roughhewn surface, formed barely discernible words.

"It's magic. Got t' be." Klep turned towards her. "Gwyna?"

Gwyna sucked in a breath. Along with the cesspit corruption that tainted the ether, the shadow script pulsed with a life all their own. "Yeah--" This sucks. "--it's magic."

"Well, read it already."

Gathering her will, she drew upon the miasma ether, drank a small sip and let the poisoned power pulse through her veins until it reached her heart. She stepped forward, fingers leading, and spread her hand but a finger-width from the granite. Power bled from her, but the taint remained to gnaw at her flesh.

An octopus ink spread across the stone's surface. The shadow runes sucked it in and began to glow with a black light. There were only two runes, one overlaying the other.

"Locked," Barik said, tracing the more prominent of the two. "What's the other? I can't make it out."

"Corruption," Howie said.

"Locked? Like a magically locked?" Klep said.

Jerul wacked him across the back of his head. "Yes, you dolt. What did you think it meant?"

"It could've been simply talking about a lock."

Vapors from her cauldron tummy burnt Gwyna's nose as she exhaled. "It's magical."

"Can you open it?"

Gwyna's skin crawled. Her response was no louder than a butterfly breath, "It's a two layer spell. Corruption locked away. But, yes."

"Good. Do it!"

"Now wait a minute. Don't you think--"

Gwyna shut out Howie's words. The argument would rage but the answer would remain the same. If she could open it, they were going in.

She let out a long slow breath, until there was nothing left, and centered herself. She lay a hand on the runes and inhaled. Crypt flavored air and power charged her lungs. Her soul shied away but the miasma mana's sewage still stained it. Her skin crawled as with a million biting bugs, leaving it raw, and she breathed the power into the two runes. Open!

A sharp crack silenced the argument. The lines of the runes snapped apart and faded as though they had never been. The stone, released from a century of strain, cracked and cracked again. As each fissure ran its course and relieved the stone's stress, a new fracture burst the next weakest point.

A rumble filled the hall as the bolder disintegrated to rubble, opening the way.

"Holly hells, Gwyna. I didn't," Jerul said, "know magic could do that. I didn't."

The others just stared at her slack jawed. She shuddered gulped back her barf.

Jerul thrust his torch into the new formed portal. The threshold of the low entry was at least two or three paces thick. He ducked and shuffled inside.

"Wait!" Klep leapt after Jerul and hauled the big boy back. "Trapped!" He pointed to the cobbled floor beyond the threshold. Better than half of the stones had holes drilled through their centers. He pushed the toe of his boot against the corner of one, there was a soft click and an iron, serrated spike erupted from the stone. The poignard jabbed some nine hand-spans in the air.

"Galloping goats, we've got to cross that?" Isla said.

Klep shrugged. "Sure. Look. It's easy." He pushed his way past Jerul, the iron death claw and hopscotched half way across the hall. "Just got to step on the ones without the holes drilled in them."

"Yeah. Easy," Barik said. His tone said something other than his words. However, he picked his way across with casual grace. Isla followed, a little slower, but no less graceful.

Jerul's large foot overlapped a tile his very first tread. "Hothr's breath!" An iron spear punched up and tore the toe from his boot. He backed into Gwyna and then, sweat beading on his brow, tip-toed across the death-field.

Gwyna waited for the big lunk to reach the far side. Tentatively, she took her first step. When nothing happened, she eased her way forward, carefully placing her feet. There were plenty of safe treads and the walk would've been easy but for the consequence of a misstep.

Cassock skirt lifted high, baring his feet, Howie followed in her careful wake. He leapt the last few strides. Gwyna unnecessarily grabbed his arm. Where flesh met flesh, the poison film still in Gwyna's veins boiled. She released Howie and flexed her fingers. No one noticed.

"Well, that's ominous." Isla pointed at runes chiseled into an arch.

Klep, who'd already passed and was wrestling with the spider-webbed roots beyond said, "Ominous? I'd say, 'Promising.' It's just the kind of mumbo jumbo I'd put on my treasure trove to scare Howie off."

Howie glared at Klep's back.

Isla stared at the inscription a moment longer and joined Klep. With Jerul's help, they tore a tunnel through the webbed roots.

As the final curtain came down, Isla coughed. A burp of foul air rolled over Gwyna and the party's torches extinguished.

"Lokul's luck be damned! Crypt gas," Klep cussed. "Gwyna, a light?"

Gwyna shuddered, sucked in more of the tainted force, causing her fingers to burn once more and said a word of power. A deep purple flame ignited in her hand and she willed it ahead with a simple gesture. The corruption the energy left behind felt like mildew in her veins.

Beyond the arch and tangled roots the flame brought a domed nave into view. Three steps rose to a central dais with a stone bier upon which lay a desiccated draugr. All about the room, strong boxes, clay jars and rotted sacks overflowed with wealth of all kinds.

"Oh Frigga's kisses. Would you look at that?" Klep's eyes glittered in the purple light.

Isla edged forward, Barik flanking her, her sword drawn. Upon the top step, she looked down and her face twisted in disgust. Her blade hovered over the corpse.

"They gave him an honored burial. The beast that raped Staghorn and beggared its people. Why?"

"Who cares?" Klep rubbed his hands together. "It's ours now." He brought the hilt of his blade down on a rusted strong box hasp and bust it open. "Gold." Awe painted his voice.

Howie pushed into the room. "Klep, the curse!"

"You and your curses." Klep thrust his hands into the chest.

He froze. His flesh began to tremble. Black, rotting tendrils crept up his arms. Pustules boiled up and burst. A low whine crescendoed to a roaring scream.

"Klep!" Barik leapt from the dais to his friend's side. He grabbed Klep's shoulders and wrest him back.

But the thing that whipped about to face him was no longer a man. Although corded in muscle, it was sheathed in blackish rotting flesh. Bloody drool spilt from between needle teeth. Razored talons tipped its hands. Bloody pustules filled its eyes.

"Hothr's breath." Jerul stepped back.

A solid thunk sounded.

Isla whirled, her blond tail flying out. "Jerul!"

Jerul's body sank down the iron spike pinioning his flesh. Gwyna flinched and elicited a pinched shriek as several more spears tore through him when he reached the floor.

Behind them, the ghoulish beast slapped Barik's sword from his hand. Barik threw himself backwards, tripped over the dais and crab-scrambled backwards. Klep leapt, talons extended for Barik's eyes.

Gwyna lashed out with her magic. But the ghoul was a black hole in the ether that devoured life and barfed corruption, her purple missiles slammed into the beast's flesh with nary a mark.

Bone crunched. The ghoul slammed back, gripped the wall and sprang at Isla. She punched the leading edge of her shield in the monsters face a second time.

"Barik, back!"

Barik rolled to his hands and knees and scrambled for safety. Isla opened the thing's arm with her blade but the blow didn't slow it. Klep backhanded Isla's shield so hard it ripped from her arm and struck sparks on the wall. His other hand raked Isla's scale-mail from armpit to belly and she screamed.

Supernova light slammed the room with soul stunning force. The beast scrambled backwards, howling.

"Behind me!" Howie roared.

Isla, never dropping her guard, backed away. The ghoul leapt in pursuit.

Again, exploding sunlight erupted from the Frejya love-knot clutched in Howie's fist. The horrid beast shied back and Gwyna's skin sizzled with sunburn.

"He can't hold it forever!" Barik screamed. "We need a way out!"

Gwyna tore at the ether, sucking in cesspit filth into her soul that boiled in the light even as her skin peeled. A tickle of power triggered the trap and a hundred spike punched up. Gwyna blasted them with decay that stained her. The iron spikes crumpled in a shower of rust.

The ghoul charged but another sunshine nova sent it sprawling. Blisters ruptured on Gwyna's sun scored flesh.

"Come on!" Gwyna screamed at the same time Howie bellowed, "Go!"

Isla fisted the back of Howie's tunic with her free hand-- "I'll guide you." --and directed his backwards shuffle.

Gwyna grabbed Barik's arm and yanked him into a run. They reached the crumbled plug and she shoved him down the entry hall of the barrow.

"Run!"

Barik skid to a stop. "What about you?"

"Run!" she screamed. She drew so much power she hopped up and down shaking her hands. She grabbed a bolder weighing twenty stones and lifted it.

Howie's Frejya granted light faltered. The ghoul charged.

"Isla! Howie! Down!"

Isla glanced back and dragged Howie to the ground. Gwyna's magical might hurled the bolder.

Gwyna caught the ghoul in the shoulder and flung it into the wall. Without even touching them, she rocketed several smaller missiles into the monster's flesh. Somehow, dead flesh absorbed the abuse and fought forward.

Her companions scrambled to their feet and Gwyna cut short the barrage as they sprinted for her. The ghoul leapt, caught up one of her stones and hurled it with un-natural force.

Howie's skull caved. Isla tripped, spun around and hacked off the leaping monster's outstretched arm. Even one handed it tore her to the ground. She kicked, hit and stabbed as she fought against the tackle.

"Gwyna--" Her scream cut short. Klep's head snapped up, lacerated esophagus between needle teeth.

Terror bit Gwyna's bladder. Panic drew upon the miasma ether. Poisoned mana flooded Gwyna's blood. She let go and corrupted power belched forth.

And Isla's corpse erupted, growing, heaving, boiling with black decay. The ghoul screamed. Crypt worms the size of Gwya's thighs latched their parasitic maws upon Klep, tangling him and fighting him to the ground.

Gwyna turned and sprinted, monkey swinging past tree roots that had invaded the crypt long ago. She drew the strength and life from them to feed her flight.

She burst from the barrow. Moonlight burned her eyes. Drawing on corruption one more time, she corroded the tomb. Klep, caught in the bowels of the barrow, dodged suffocating earth as he raced for the surface. A loud crack sounded. The great stone lintel above the barrow's gaping maw, splintered. Shattered roots and dirt blew from the impact. Black ichor splashed against Gwyna's hem.

She collapsed to her rump upon the slick, sickly-yellow grass. Her fingers dug through the slime to the soil below and she pulled.

A wave burned through her. She drew more, pushing at the filth polluting her soul. Grass, and then trees, shriveled with the touch of death.

"Gwyna?" There was a note of fear in Barik's voice.

Gwyna launched to her feet in a half pirouette. Clean ghost light, hidden within the shroud of Barik's flesh, drew her mystic eye. Gwyna's breath hitched and she did the forbidden. Tsunami power blasted the corruption from her soul.

"Gwyna!" Barik screamed. His flesh crumbled, his skin, an empty sack of bone.

Life coursed through her and Gwyna trembled. Her color returned. The moon's god light no longer chapped her skin. Her flesh healed.

But only for a moment. Every beat of her heart pumped out miasma blood, poison life touched by the taint of the crypt. Barik hadn't been enough to cleanse it.

Tears tracked down Gwyna's cheeks. She already felt filthy. She craved cleansing. Unspoiled souls called to her. Her sick spirit could hear them. As her feet turned towards town, towards home, Gwyna knew she their voices would never silence and she'd never resist. Entropy would forever own her.