Temple of the Traveler: Book 01 - Doors to Eternity Read Online Free PDF Page A

The fugitive had assured him that the saurian spirit would only attack from behind or below. Their best defense would be to keep their backs against the sturdy stonework and use their blades to protect their exposed ankles. If forced to attack by its master, a normal beast would try to knock them over by striking with a forceful leap just above the waist. If something jumped at him, the fearful lieutenant was instructed to deflect it, knocking it off the bridge and into the water.
    Meanwhile, Tashi moved gracefully into the most stable stance he could, concentrating on his own breathing. He practiced an ancient martial-art style whose name translated into “wrestling with giants.” The art was most effective against the tall Imperials, using their own height against them. After his injuries, practicing the art helped him regain control over his anger as well as rehabilitate his damaged leg and shoulder sinews. He didn’t remember learning it as a child, but his body knew all the basic forms so well that his mind would have only interfered.
    This particular maneuver, “the great boulder in a farmer’s field”, was taught at the very highest levels of the discipline. He learned the technique while working as a bodyguard for the priest who had saved his life and given it renewed meaning. In becoming the boulder, the warrior established a close connection with the physical world around him, and tapped that strength to reinforce his own existence, his own personal gravity. The trick lay in solid confidence, peaceful meditation, and focusing the power of the will. Becoming the boulder only exaggerated what you already were. Tashi concentrated on becoming progressively heavier until he became the proverbial immovable object. He felt the weight of the artifact on his chest pull downward even more as he entered the proper state. He’d succeeded in this endeavor once during a tournament but never during actual combat.
    Every few breaths, the lieutenant would quake out another number. By the time he had counted up to four, they could see the grass moving. At eight, they could hear the galloping on the packed-clay path. The man with the Sword of Miracles held his pose, unmoving. At nine, he saw the eyes and a white flash around the beast’s muzzle. A heartbeat later, it launched savagely at his ches. Tashi exhaled sharply in preparation for the blow. A brief clang sounded on impact like a hammer on an anvil, but it could have been his imagination. Either way, the boulder had not moved.
    The spirit rebounded onto the dirt, head weaving in confusion. It opened it jaws as if for the normal, follow-up bite, and Tashi’s right arm darted out without conscious thought. The bright sword sliced through the open mouth and did not stop until it jerked out the back of the skull. The head and body slumped in different directions, the ectoplasm dissipating before it struck the earth.
    “Ten,” the sheriff said, taking a cleansing breath to relax himself.
    The necromancer was furious at losing his second demon of the day. He appeared at a mill window, nigh frothing at the mouth, cursing in three languages at once. The tick in his eye was unnatural. Normal people did not blink and twitch that often. Perhaps this wizard was controlled as much as he was the controller. There was a pecking order to these things. Upon consideration, Tashi decided that an important wizard wouldn’t be given the menial task of guarding a toll booth day and night. He pointed his gleaming sword tip at the raving man like an extension of his own finger. “You will open the same way if you do not let us pass.”
    The cursing wizard screamed horribly and convulsed. His mouth and eyes opened wide, his jaws locked, and something vomited forth like the glint of sunlight on the waves of the Inner Sea. As it fell to the ground, sand and debris began to swirl into a dust devil. A low moan escaped the lieutenant as he stroked the pouch of garlic with his left hand.
    “Hold,