“You killed our horses. I’m not inclined to be forgiving about that, I said, darkly.
“You cannot just . . . just abandon me!” he whined.
“Yes, we can, actually,” Lilastien said, slinging her rifle and digging some rope out of her dead horse’s saddle bag. “Now, we can leave you here by the spring tied up until your captain returns to free you, or we can knock you unconscious and leave you tied up for your captain to find. Which would you prefer?”
We had to walk the rest of the way, which was disagreeable. After one of the worst nights of my life, I was exhausted and wanted sleep. I was glad I kept the spear. I leaned on it like a staff as we slowly made our way across the empty gully and up the path to the cavern of the vault.
We chatted a little on the way, but the heat made small talk annoying, and it only got worse by the time we came to the rocky desolation. By the time we were on the trail that led to the stony hill, we were sweating. Unsurprisingly, the gurvani were resting in the shade of the overhang, clearly enjoying their guard duty and lack of oversight. But they weren’t very attentive. Lilastien and I got within two hundred yards of them without them noticing us.
“What shall we do about them?” I asked.
“Eliminate them,” she said, cold-bloodedly. The voice didn’t sound like Lilastien’s normal tone. “We are at war.”
“All right,” I sighed, and started fiddling with the controls on my plasma rifle. It wasn’t as precise as the military-grade weapon Andrews used in his warfare, but his memory guided me through the proper adjustments until I was able to put a bolt through the forehead of the first guard. That alerted the second, and when he stood and raised his crossbow to look for the shooter, Lilastien shot him three times in the chest.
“Let’s go,” she said, slinging her rifle.
“You’ve gotten surprisingly good at tactical situations,” I observed, as we jogged up the hill.
“One of my hosts,” she dismissed. “She was very good. CalDef Special Forces. Lieutenant Callista Maria Gianakos.”
“A soldier is going to help you right the Alka Alon wrongs?” I asked.
“It was what she witnessed that is helpful,” Lilastien answered. “I don’t know, Min, this is all going to take a lot to figure out,” she said, putting a final shot into the second gurvan, who was still moving.
“I know what you mean,” I grunted, as I stopped and looked through their camp. I hadn’t had anything to eat save martinis since yesterday. We hadn’t brought along much in the way of rations, and what we had brought was back with our dead horses.
But the gurvani had food. There was a pot of beans and a haunch of what I suspected was llama. There were also some dried mushrooms, but I didn’t want to get into that. Gurvani have different digestions than humans did. “How about we stop for lunch?” I proposed. “And a quick nap?”
“A nap?” she asked. “Didn’t you want to get to the vault?”
“We’re at the vault, I argued. I’m hungry and tired. I died last night,” I reminded her. “And I don’t want to have the vault gaping open just in time for our enemies to surprise us and take advantage.”
“All fair points,” she sighed. “Perhaps we should call for some reinforcements, then?”
“We might at least want to let people know where we are,” I agreed, as I carved a slice off the haunch. “Alya’s probably worried that I wasn’t in camp this morning. It’s already afternoon.”
“I’ll see if I can get my granddaughter on the radio,” she agreed, setting her rifle next to the small fire. “She and Nattia can fly in, and Tyndal and the others can follow by horse.”
“You do that,” I said, looking at pot of beans. “I’m going to have lunch. And some water,” I said, slumping over.
“I’m . . . I’m going to take your vitals before I call Ithalia,” she decided, putting away the radio and getting out her medical tablet and pressing the sensor to the skin of my wrist, where I felt a tiny buzz, almost like a pinprick. A moment later she looked up, concerned, but not alarmed. “Well, your cortisol levels are off the charts, your magnesium is low, and your white cell count is up. But your blood pressure is good, and your heart rate and pulse oxygen are fine. Eat,” she encouraged. “And drink. You’re also dehydrated.”
“Water would be good,” I agreed. “Ale would be better. But I’ll settle for water.”
As I chewed the first slice of llama and a mouthful of beans, I felt an enormous weariness come over me. I washed it down with a bottle that Lilastien helpfully held for me, and then I was asleep. Or unconscious.
I won’t describe my dreams. I don’t want to remember them, much less put them into words.
I woke up once and drank more water, in late afternoon.
“I got in touch with Ithalia,” she reported. “She’s sending help. Drink more.”
“Alya?” I asked, as she tipped the water bottle to my lips again.
“Ithalia’s trying to get a radio to her. You just rest,” she insisted. “As long as you can. I’ll let you know if I need you.”
“The goblins . . .?”
“No sign of them, yet. And we have the high ground, a defensible position, better cover, and greater range. Here,” she said, offering me another sip from her silver flask. “Don’t get used to it, but I think it would do you some good.”
It did. It also helped me fall instantly back to sleep. There were more dreams, more nightmares, and then Lilastien was kicking me awake again.
“Minalan! Rise and shine, soldier! We’ve got company,” she said, as she picked up her plasma rifle.
“Who?” I asked, blearily.
“Who do you think? The Enshadowed and their scrugs are returning. They’ll be in range shortly. We need to take positions.”
“We do?” I asked, confused. My mouth was as dry as the sand around us.
“We do!” she insisted, shoving my rifle into my hands. “I’ll take the left flank; you take the right one. Try to get a good vantage point. We can pick them off as they come up that rise. Move it!” she said, with uncharacteristic directness.
But once you’ve been in the military, you don’t ignore that tone. I activated the plasma rifle, tried to shake off the cobwebs, and found a place among the rocks.
It was near twilight, and the sun was setting. It would get dark fast, I knew, and then the goblins would have the advantage. They see better in the dark, and the light from our rifles would reveal our location.
“Didn’t you order an air strike?” I reminded her.
“The birds are coming,” she promised. “A lot has happened during your nap. Just pick your targets,” she reminded me. “Fire as soon as you have a shot.”
I sighed and set to work. It was almost as easy as using a warwand, and in some ways easier. I rested the barrel on a boulder, checked my settings, increased the magnification on the scope . . . and when the first gurvani face rounded the bend, I started pulling the trigger. A moment later, so did Lilastien.
We took out three of them before they got smart and sought cover. Then a few wild crossbow shots flew overhead. We weren’t out of range, but if they wanted to take an aimed shot at us, they would have to expose themselves.
We spent the next five minutes convincing them of that, and got another one, between the two of us. That was when someone waved a flag on the end of a spear.
“Truce?” called an Alka Alon voice in accented Narasi.
“Go fuck a llama!” I shouted back, loudly. I added a blast from the rifle to emphasize my point.
“We have you outnumbered!” the voice said, in Alka Alon. “Surrender, and you will not be harmed!”
I repeated my earlier insult in Alka Alon. It sounded surprisingly elegant.
“Then you shall be destroyed!” the voice of the Enshadowed captain, Harinlon bellowed.
“What happened to Belimiel?” asked Lilastien, suddenly.
“What? I freed him,” Harinlon said. “Then sent him back to camp in shame. He had you outnumbered
and took you by surprise and he still lost you. Incompetent!”
“Well, you’ve got us outnumbered, and you’re about to lose me,” I pointed out. “Perhaps you’ll live to join him on that walk back to camp!”
“We will charge you,” he warned. “You will not survive. This is your last warning. I am Harinlon, First—” he said, beginning the inevitable litany of his name and position that the Alka Alon feel compelled to do. I found it particularly annoying. I didn’t want to know who the hell he was.
Neither did Lilastien, apparently. I couldn’t see her in her position, but it had apparently moved. She was suddenly much closer to them, on a much higher outcropping. She sent a bolt into their flank.
“A little less conversation, a little more action!” she declared, and suddenly music began to play from her scanner. And she started firing. A lot.
So, I fired, too. And that’s when Harinlon’s nerve broke, and he began to send gurvani charging up the pathway with crossbows and grim facial expressions.
I felt the cool reserve of a rifle infantryman come over me as I began squeezing the trigger in a methodical way. The barrel of the rifle got hot as I fired, and goblins kept dropping. A few got close enough to get off wild shots from their bows, but as soon as they paused to fire, they caught a face full of plasma.
There were a lot of them. More than I’d expected. They learned very quickly to stay low and seek cover as they approached. A few departed the trail and tried to come up the steep slope on my flank.
Eventually, I realized as I looked at the number of charges in the rifle, they might just be able to overwhelm us. I wasn’t looking forward to that.
Lilastien was actually enjoying herself. Her music changed from one song to another, and then another as she took aim and blasted at our foe. Then she would roll to a new position and fire again. She was also firing a lot. Her stock of energy would be gone soon, too.
And nightfall was coming. I was starting to become concerned.
That’s when a shadow cast over the trail, and a very welcome sound split the air: the war cry of giant hawks. A moment later a streak of feathers flew by, and giant talons scattered the approaching gurvani. A skybolt flew, impaling one as Nattia flew by, following Ithalia’s big bird.
Lilastien stood, cheered, and got even more liberal with her rate of fire. That’s when I noticed the cloud of dust in the distance, the kind you see when a troop of cavalry is moving fast.
That made me smile. Andrews’ memory was whispering in my ear as I continued to fire, carefully avoiding hitting our air cover in the process. That cloud was moving fast. They must be advancing at a gallop.
Within five minutes the calvary had arrived, right at sunset. Only it wasn’t horses. Instead, there was a commotion among the gurvani and Enshadowed as the blunt shape of one of the “Beast” vehicles from the Cave of the Ancients appeared, with lights as bright as magelights glaring across the trail.
More, Travid and Tyndal were on the roof, each armed with a hunting rifle. As the beast ran over the gurvani in front of it, the two lads shot the stragglers. When it came to the widest point, where the gurvani had bunched up, the doors on the sides of the cabin opened . . . and our reinforcements spilled out.
Led by my wife.
Alya had changed into trousers and boots and had tied up her hair. When she came out of the vehicle, she had one of the Ancients’ pistols in her fist and she began firing, the loud reports splitting the air. A split-second later Taren joined her and put his spear into the chest of the Enshadowed captain before he drew his plasma pistol, followed by Ormar and Gareth. Gunshots and the scent of ozone filled the air as they relentlessly attacked the foe. They kept shooting until the last gurvani was dead.
I sighed in relief. Sure, we could probably have held out against them, but I was just too tired for that. I pushed myself up on the butt of my rifle and dragged myself over to the trailhead. Alya holstered her pistol as she un-cautiously stalked up the trail.
“Alya!” I beamed.
“Where the hell have you been?” she demanded, angrily and loudly. Her face was flushed and sweaty and cast in shadow from the setting sun.
There was no easy answer to that. So, I stuck to the classics.
I kissed her once. I kissed her twice. I kissed her once again.
Chapter Forty-Six
Within the Vault
I took a piece of wisdom from Kova Salainen: the price of knowledge is high, but it is compounded by keeping it secret.
from the Expedition Book of Anghysbel,
Recorded By Minalan the Spellmonger
Alya was angry, perhaps rightfully so.
She’d woken up with a foul hangover to find her husband missing after a night of drunken passion. She had to choose to either wait for me or go look for me – or induce others to do so on her behalf. Rolof had searched on his own, for a while, but it was soon apparent that I had gone off Somewhere. Presumably to do something Stupid.
She was right.
I didn’t go into much detail of my actual experience with the Yith with her – this was not the time or place. But I did explain why I needed to slip away in the middle of the night, and that had led to us discovering how to open the vault. Which we needed to do to finish our quest.
She wasn’t mollified by that in the slightest.
“I even had Avius take a flyover to see if she could spot you,” she snarled. “Next time, at least leave me a godsdamned note!”
“I will,” I promised. “I should have. I’m sorry,” I admitted.
“You’re just lucky Gareth was out testing that carriage when he was,” she said, as she folded her arms and began walking into the cavern. “He and Tyndal heard Lilastien’s call on the radio and came and got me, after they collected the others at the Cave. Then they picked me up on the way.”
“Where’s Rolof and Ameras?” I asked.
“Still at the camp on the lake. They will be along presently. Really, Min, you scared me to death!”
As someone who had literally been scared to death, I could appreciate that.
“Look, you can yell at me later,” I promised. “I deserve it. But I want to go get this vault open. I don’t know what else could possibly happen today, but I want to get it open before it does.”
“I’m still mad,” she said, sullenly.
“I know,” I said, taking her by the hand. “Come on. You can be mad at me in the cave, too.”
As we entered the long, tastefully decorated cavern, Alya looked around with interest. “So, this is the fulfillment of your quest?”
“The very last part. If I get the vault open, we’re a lot closer to . . . well, a lot.”
“Ameras didn’t think you would figure out how,” she confessed, guiltily.
“Really?” I asked, surprised.
“I told her my husband can do anything. Except, apparently, leave a me a godsdamned note.”
“Ordinarily, she might be right,” I explained, as we rounded the path around the underground lake. “As the Enshadowed learned, this is a daunting place to break into, without magic.” I joined Taren, Ormar, Gareth, and Tyndal, as they stared at the massive doorway. There were signs that the gurvani had tried to hack their way through it: broken axes and shovels, a wedge and a hammer were littered around the left side of the doorway. There was the barest scratch in the surface.
“It’s still a big door,” Ormar said, shaking his head.
“They could pick at it from now until the sun goes cold, and they wouldn’t get into the vault,” I observed. “You see, the Alka Alon are subtle and clever. Even without magic. And the Karshak are crafty. So,” I said, as I turned away from the door, “if they wanted to keep someone from breaking into a vault, the easiest way to deter them is to give them a big whopping doorway that is obviously the way into the vault. Only it isn’t.”
“It isn’t?” Tyndal asked, surprised.
“No. That’s just a big slab of stone carved to look like a door. A decoy,” I explained
, as I walked back down the ramp. I halted in front of the great, round stone stele. “They put it there to convince any robbers to do just what the Enshadowed did: beat themselves to death against a big slab of stone for all of eternity. The real entrance to the vault is more subtle. Lilastien, do you recognize this design?”
“Yes,” she nodded. “It’s the constellations in the night’s sky on Alonaral,” she answered. “It’s a symbol of Alka Alon sovereignty, adopted by the High Kings to represent their right to rule the Alka Alon lands here on Callidore.”
“Correct. I remember seeing it under Olem Seheri,” I reminded her. “Korbal was using it to proclaim himself sovereign.”
“That’s right,” she nodded.
“Only, this stylized version is . . . off,” I pointed out.
“Is it?” she asked, confused. She studied it for a moment.
“Yes, it’s off center. The top of this constellation, here, should be in the north. It’s off by at least fifteen, twenty degrees. But” I said, reaching out and grasping the side of the stele, “if you rotate the sky around to here,” I said, as I did just that. The stele turned easily, though it was massive. “Then the constellation is in its proper position, as is the rest of the sky. Not many people would know that. And when you put the sky into its proper place,” I said, as there was a rumbling suddenly shaking the cave, “then the hidden valve is activated. All the water in that pool,” I said, pointing to the lake, “will drain out into the culvert.”
My friends stood around and gawked at the pool slowly emptying. It was much deeper than it appeared, and as the level of the lake fell, it revealed a flight of stairs under the water that led down in a spiral around its edge. “When we want to re-fill it, we turn the wheel the other way and it will slowly return to the proper level. The genius of Karshak engineering,” I said, with pride. Well, it was Umank’s pride, but I think he deserved it.
“That’s bloody brilliant,” Ormar admitted. “Here I was going to use the last of my Dragon Cotton on that bloody wall. Good job, Min!”
“It really is,” Taren nodded, as he watched the water drain. “The Alka Alon aren’t fond of water. It’s a natural barrier.”
Footwizard Page 69