Phobos Legend: The Curse of Dred Mountain
The wind pulled hard at the jagged edge of the treeline where the open moorlands gave way to the tangled, shadow-drenched canopy of the elder forest.
Leif, King of Deltora, paused at the threshold, his hand resting instinctively on the hilt of his sword. Just ahead, half-buried under centuries of creeping roots and thick grey moss, sat a tiny, domed structure made of river stone and interwoven birch.
"What is that?" Leif murmured, squinting into the dusk. "Who would have made a hut way out here?"
"I believe it's called a gnome rest," Prin, the young Kin dragon, said softly, hovering low so her iridescent scales barely grazed the heather. Her bright eyes scanned the choked clearing. "The gnomes use these as shelters, all connected by hidden stone paths. But look at the vegetation—the paths were lost when the forest became overgrown." She nudged a tangle of jet-black vines with her snout, recoiling slightly at the sharp, unnatural briars. "The thorns can't be the only reason, though. Something big must have happened here."
"Understatement of the century," muttered Gary Oak, adjusting his travel pack and looking around at the bizarre ensemble of companions gathered in the gloom.
Beside him stood the three royal siblings of Metamoor—Will Vandom, her jacket zipped tight against the chill as her eyes gleamed with the pink energy of the Heart of Kandrakar; her younger sister, Queen Elyion, who held her light close; and their dark elder brother, Prince Phobos. Phobos kept a tense distance from his two sisters, sneering at the damp earth as if thoroughly disgusted to be trudging through the wilderness with them. Further back, Edmund Pevensie tested the edge of his drawn blade, his eyes trained on the dark tree trunks as if expecting an ambush at any second.
Before anyone could deliberate further, a soft, heavy rustling echoed from the high canopy above. An immense, snowy owl swooped downward, cutting through the fog before landing heavily on a low-hanging oak branch.
"So, Narissa's new minions—these 'Knights of Destruction'—attacked you and your families," Glimfeather the owl hooted urgently, his wide yellow eyes bobbing as he looked over the group. "Until the Oracle regains his sight, you are the eyes of the council!"
Will stepped forward, the Heart of Kandrakar pulsing softly against her chest as she glanced back at her sister and brother. "Glimfeather, Kandrakar is compromised. If Narissa has recruited these Knights, Metamoor and Earth aren't the only worlds in danger. Deltora and Narnia are pulled into this now, too."
"Precisely why there is no time for squabbling!" Glimfeather ruffled his feathers, his voice rising in pitch. "And this, my dear humans, is an emergency meeting of the Great Parliament of Owls!"
"A parliament of birds?" Phobos drawled, a cruel smirk playing on his lips as he looked at his sisters. "We are the royal bloodline of Metamoor, facing an army engineered to tear down realms, and we are taking counsel from a creature that eats field mice?"
"Watch your tongue, Phobos," Elyion snapped, her young voice ringing with an authority that made even her brother pause. "Will and I wouldn't be standing in a dead gnome sanctuary if your dark magic hadn't weakened our family's realm for Narissa in the first place!"
"Brothers," Will sighed, rubbing her temples before stepping between Elyion and Phobos. "Can we save the family feud for after we survive this?"
"Enough," Edmund said, his voice quiet, calm, and tempered by the memories of high wars in Narnia. He stepped into the center of the ring, pointing with his sword toward the dark interior of the overgrown forest. "The owl is right about one thing—we're blind right now. Whatever happened to this place, whatever drove the gnomes away, left a scar. Look at those thorns. They aren't growing naturally; they're spreading like an infection."
Gary pulled a small device from his belt, clicking a switch as he scanned the black vines. "Edmund's right. The thermal readings are completely dead, but there's a weird energy signature pulsing underneath the soil. It's like something stripped the life out of the earth and left an empty shell."
"It was the Knights," Will realized, her grip tightening on the Heart as she felt its magic resonate with Elyion's power. "They don't just destroy buildings or attack people. They consume the vitality of the land to feed Narissa's magic. If they've already reached these outer paths..."
"Then the heart of the forest is already gone," Leif finished, drawing the Belt of Deltora tighter around his waist. The gems set within the steel began to glow with a faint, reassuring warmth, pushing back the unnatural chill of the dark briars. "If the Oracle cannot see, then we must act as his scouts. Prin, can you carry word back to the Kin if we need reinforcements?"
Prin gave a firm nod, her wings spreading wide. "The Kin will answer when Deltora calls, King Leif."
Glimfeather bobbed his head approvingly. "Then the Parliament's directive is clear. You must follow the old gnome paths beneath the thorns. They lead to the sunken temple at the forest's center. If Narissa's Knights of Destruction are pooling their power there, you must strike before the Oracle's light is extinguished forever."
Phobos let out a low, bitter laugh, though he summoned a flickering sphere of dark green energy into his palm, falling in behind his two sisters. "A king, two princesses, a dragon, a boy with a sword, and a scholar... led into the dark by an owl. Our family legacy grows more embarrassing by the hour."
"Are you coming or complaining, Phobos?" Will asked, stepping over a thick knot of black briars as she led Elyion and the rest of the group toward the ruined gnome rest.
Phobos narrowed his eyes, but fell into line behind his sisters and Edmund. Together, the fragile alliance stepped down into the dark, stone-lined trenches of the overgrown path, disappearing into the twilight as the Great Parliament of Owls took flight above them.
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