The First Champion

by Sandell Wall

  “This is madness,” Sorrell mumbled from behind her breather.

  Lacrael did not try to answer. Instead, she gave Sorrell a gentle push forward. Sorrell limped slightly, favoring the ankle she had twisted. They were forced to travel in the wrong direction more than once, as they were at the mercy of the canyon’s path. Finally, when Lacrael had just decided that Hexia was well and truly lost, the ground started to slope upwards again.

  From that point, Hexia simply took whichever route led to higher ground. She practically sprinted up the last stretch of canyon. With a terrific shout of triumph, Hexia crested the rise and turned to look out over the subterranean maze they had just navigated.

  “The texts were right!” Hexia said as Lacrael and the others climbed up to stand next to her. “No one has dared that route in over a hundred years, and I did it on my first try!”

  “Do you think this is a game?” Niad said. Her patience had run out. Out here, the fearful reputation of House Riggor seemed a small, insignificant thing. “You risked all of our lives on a whim! What if your sources had been wrong? We’d still be lost down there, or worse.”

  “But we’re not, so who cares?” Hexia said. She was not about to let Niad dampen her exuberant mood. “If I’m right, Orcassus is less than a mile from here. I’ll have set a record, for sure!”

  Hexia jogged away from them and clambered up onto a conspicuous pile of rocks. Standing astride the largest boulder, she held her torch aloft and scanned the surrounding miasma.

  “We’re close,” Hexia said. “Come on, let’s finish this thing!”

  Lacrael would never forget what happened next. The rock beneath Hexia’s feet snapped open. Hexia flailed in surprise, clawing at the air as she dropped into the stone maw. The yawning boulder slammed shut as quickly as it had opened. Hexia was pinned. Only her upper torso was free of the rock. Her lower body was slowly being crushed.

  Hexia tried to scream, but she had no air in her compressed lungs. Blood splattered from her mouth and spilled down her chest. She scrabbled at the boulder, trying to pull herself out. Before anyone could think to move to her aid, the rock cracked open again and Hexia vanished from sight.

  A horrible, grinding crunch issued forth from the rock, and then it went still. Ten seconds later, the rock pile convulsed in a way that Lacrael could only describe as a swallowing motion. Discarded and forgotten, Hexia’s torch lay at the base of the stones, its flame still burning brightly.

  No one spoke. The attack had happened so fast that no one had time to move. They waited, scarcely daring to breathe, to see what would happen next. The rock pile shifted, and to Lacrael’s stunned disbelief, the stones started to rise from the ground.

  Illuminated by the flickering torchlight, the stones rose to form a humanoid shape. The largest boulder in the center of its body was wet with blood. It towered over them, at least twice as tall as Brant. At first, Lacrael thought the rocks were suspended by magic, floating in the air, supported by some strange power. But as she looked closer, she realized the stones were held up by dark vines. Behind the monster, the vines disappeared into a pit in the sand.

  Brant lowered Gustavus to the ground and stepped forward.

  “I don’t know if I can kill this thing, but I can keep it busy,” Brant said. “Take Gustavus and Tarathine, and go in the direction Hexia was pointing. If I survive, I’ll catch up.”

  Niad and Sorrell picked up Gustavus between them. Together with Kaiser, they moved away from the rock monster. Lacrael did not follow. Niad stopped and glanced in her direction.

  “I’m staying,” Lacrael said. She left no room for argument in her voice.

  Lacrael did not wait to see if Niad responded. Brant was already advancing on the creature, doing his best to distract it from the others. Lacrael ripped the wooden mask from her face and ran to Brant’s side.

  “You should go with them,” Brant said without looking at her.

  “I’m not leaving you to fight this thing alone,” Lacrael said.

  The rock monster took a ponderous step forward. Brant held his arms open at his sides, fingers splayed open. The eyes of the dragon amulet embedded in his chest blazed, and claws of shadow and fire appeared above his outstretched hands. He swiped in front of him—the ethereal claws raked the air, leaving a trail of fire.

  Brant met the beast head-on. The rock monster heaved a massive boulder of an arm high into the air and brought it crashing down at Brant. It struck the earth so hard that the ground shook. Lacrael almost lost her footing. Brant sidestepped the clumsy assault and tore into the stone. Rock sheared away like putty beneath his claws.

  If Brant’s attack hurt the beast, it did not show it. Severed rock dropped into the sand, but the monster did not slow. Brant danced away to avoid another clumsy strike. With every step that the monster advanced on Brant, it dragged more length of vine out of the pit behind it.

  Lacrael circled the thing, intent on reaching the exposed vines. The monster did not seem to notice her. Brant realized what Lacrael was doing—he lunged forward again, flaming claws an orange blur. Again and again he struck, inflicting terrible injury with every strike. Splintered stone filled the air. The beast never wavered.

  On her hands and knees, Lacrael covered the last few feet to the vines in a mad scramble. She shut out the terrible sounds coming from the pit next to her. Something hideous lurked within. At first, Lacrael tried to burn the ropey vines. To her frustration, she could not summon enough heat to damage them. And they were too strong for her to hold on to. She pulled back a bloody hand, her palm cut to shreds by the thorns on the vine.

  Desperate now, Lacrael drew Elise’s dagger. With her good hand, she attacked the vines with the sharp blade. The honed edge bit into the vine easily. Lacrael put her weight behind the dagger, sawing viciously at the plant.

  The wounded vine under Lacrael’s blade bled water onto the sand. At last, it weakened and snapped under her efforts. An inhuman scream came from the pit. Lacrael glanced towards Brant and the rock monster. Cut off from its supporting vine, the left arm of the monster had crashed to the ground.

  “Look out!” Brant shouted.

  Angered by Lacrael’s attack, the monster was retreating towards the pit. Lacrael scrambled away, half-crawling, half-rolling through the shifting sand. Any second, she expected the pile of rocks to crush her into pulp. But the attack never came.

  Lacrael lunged to her feet and finally risked a look back. The rocks had collapsed over the pit again, hiding the monster beneath. In the fresh silence, Lacrael heard only the sound of her ragged breathing. Brant appeared next to her. Together, they watched the stones for a moment to make sure the danger was passed.

  “We should go,” Brant said when the rocks did not rise.

  “Wait,” Lacrael said. She placed a pleading hand on Brant’s arm.

  Brant looked down at her. Lacrael did not know if it was the rush that came from fighting for her life, but she felt flushed. She had never been more drawn to Brant than she was right now.

  “I don’t know what’s going to happen to us,” Lacrael said. “Once we enter Orcassus, we’ll probably be separated. I’m trying to be strong. I’m trying to do what I must. But I hate living this way. I hate being a slave, and I miss you. I want to be by your side.”

  “I know,” Brant said. “I hate it too.”

  Lacrael opened her mouth to say more, but her words were cut short when Brant pulled her to himself. He let the breather drop from his mouth and gently removed hers. He kissed her. Lacrael lost herself in that kiss. The wonder of it lit a fire in her heart that would never be extinguished. If she could have released the power of that kiss on this cursed world, it would have been enough to banish the miasma forever.

  Far sooner than Lacrael would have preferred, Brant pulled away. The look he gave her made Lacrael blush, if only because she wanted everything it spoke of, and more. But the moment was spoiled by the sound of stone grinding against stone.

  Brant replaced his breathe
r as he glanced at the rock-covered pit. “We really should get out of here,” he said.

  Lacrael nodded. She bit into the strip of leather that held her own breather in place. It did not taste nearly as good as Brant’s lips.

  Feeling more alive than she thought was possible, Lacrael followed Brant in the direction the others had gone. For a fleeting moment, she imagined the two of them escaping into the Ravening to survive on their own. With Brant’s powers, they would not be helpless. They could find a way out of the miasma and make a life for themselves. It would not be so bad to live like Sadreed did, if it meant being free.

  But reason and duty soon chased these selfish thoughts from Lacrael’s mind. She felt guilty for even contemplating the temptation. She was the first champion. None of the others would be here if not for her. Lacrael had set these events in motion, and she was duty bound to see them to their conclusion.

  Niad and the others had not gone far. They had waited at a safe distance to learn the outcome of Brant and Lacrael’s battle. Brant took Gustavus back into his arms while Lacrael explained what happened.

  “I cut one of the vines and the fight went out of it,” Lacrael said. “I didn’t care for Hexia, but that was a brutal way to die. She didn’t deserve that.”

  Lacrael tore a strip of cloth from her robe and bound her wounded hand while she talked.

  “She was careless and stupid,” Kaiser said. “We’re fortunate we didn’t share her fate.”

  “She said we were near the walls of Orcassus,” Sorrell said. “We should press on. I don’t want to be out here any longer than necessary.”

  “It’s going to raise questions, us arriving without a guide,” Niad said.

  “Just tell the truth,” Lacrael said. “Our guide didn’t survive the crossing.”

  “Her family name complicates things.”

  “So leave that part out. No one has to know who she was.”

  Niad shook her head. “It’s not common for a guide to die. There will be an investigation. And House Riggor won’t ignore Hexia’s disappearance.”

  “The only other option is to lie. According to Hexia, Orcassus is overrun by pilgrims right now. Maybe a falsehood can slip by without much scrutiny.”

  “What would you have me say?”

  “Tell them that you were desperate. They’ll see that we don’t have any money. Say that you didn’t have the funds to hire anyone, but you needed to get to Orcassus to make a profit on your slaves. So you risked the crossing yourself.”

  “Such a thing isn’t unheard of,” Niad said after a moment of contemplation. “Fine, I’ll tell them we were lucky. We made it through unscathed, without a guide.”

  This decided, they set out again towards Orcassus. Hexia had been right; they were close. They had only walked for about ten minutes when the city walls reared out of the miasma in front of them. In any other circumstance, the black, porous stone fortifications would have filled Lacrael with dread. But after Hexia’s gruesome death and the battle with the rock monster, it was a relief to reach their destination.

  “I don’t think Hexia was intending to take us through the main gate,” Niad said. “But that’s our only option now. We’ll have to walk until we find it.”

  Niad turned left at the wall, and they walked for another two hours before finally discovering the main gate. Lacrael was surprised to discover a crowd of travelers waiting to enter the city.

  “Don’t forget your mask,” Brant whispered beside her.

  In a fit of panic, Lacrael grabbed her wooden mask from where it had been hanging at her side. She slapped it on her face, praying that no one had seen her bare skin. No one cried out or pointed a finger, and Lacrael breathed easier as they joined the queue.

  After several hours of painful waiting, it was finally their turn to pass through the gate. The guards gave them a cursory search before waving them through. The tunnel beneath the walls was at least a hundred feet long. Lacrael had a hard time picturing in her head the immensity of the fortifications surrounding Orcassus.

  “There’s so many people entering the city that they're conducting the final inspection inside the walls,” Niad said as they passed the middle point of the tunnel. “Be ready to get poked and prodded. They won’t be gentle.”

  No one spoke in response. There was nothing to say, and Lacrael suspected everyone else shared her somber mood. There was no light at the end of this tunnel. Hexia’s boast had proved false; they would enter Orcassus under a night sky. Lacrael hoped this was not a foul omen.

  After several weeks of hard travel, they had finally reached their destination. But there was no joy to be found in the culmination of their journey. Lacrael knew that, like her, each of her companions harbored their own secret terrors about what they would find here.

  Lacrael stepped from the tunnel and entered The City of Death.

  Chapter 26

  LACRAEL CAUGHT ONLY THE briefest glimpse of Orcassus before she and the rest of her party were ushered through a door and into a small room. Torches shone from a thousand different windows, pinpricks of light shining in the night. In the center of the city, a strange beacon glowed at the top of a tall tower, but that was all Lacrael had a chance to take in. The tomb keeper guard told Niad that an inspector would be along shortly. Lacrael heard the click of a lock after the door closed behind the guard.

  The room was bare. Other than the sturdy wooden door, it contained only a single burning torch set in the wall. In any other circumstance, Lacrael would have called it a prison cell.

  “Strange way to welcome guests,” Kaiser said. He did not put Tarathine down.

  “Entry inspection is standard procedure,” Niad said. “The holding cell is only because they’re overloaded with travelers right now.”

  They waited for about an hour before hearing activity outside the cell. A key scraped in the lock, and the door swung open. A hard-faced woman with graying hair and immaculately polished armor stepped into the room. She looked bored and tired. Behind her came a second tomb keeper, and a man with a ledger and quill. The man wore a vest covered in pockets, each one full to bursting with leaflets of parchment.

  The inspector held out an open hand towards the man, and he placed a piece of paper in her palm. After glancing at the note, the woman finally scanned their faces.

  “Slaver, is it?” the inspector said. “Fortune shines on you this day. I’ve been authorized to pay triple the price for any able-bodied slave that comes through the gates. The city is preparing for a grand ceremony, and we’ve precious few laborers.”

  “I’ve buyers waiting for my merchandise,” Niad said. “You honor me with the offer, but I can’t break my outstanding contracts.”

  The inspector’s eyes narrowed. “Your obligations are to Orcassus first and foremost. I have orders to procure slaves. You can accept a generous price for their heads, or I can take them from you.”

  While this exchange took place, the man had moved amongst Kaiser, Sorrell, Brant, and the others. He studiously ignored Lacrael. When his investigation was complete, he returned to the inspector’s side.

  “Report,” the inspector said.

  “Two of the males look to be in good fighting form,” the man said. “They warrant full price. The fighting pits will be eager to test them. The brown-haired woman is pretty enough, and sturdy. She fits the request for personal servants of the risen one. I’d pay full price for her as well. The rest of them have the mist rot. They might recover, but they’re worthless right now.”

  The inspector waved a hand. “So be it. Write up the bill of sale.”

  Lacrael looked at Niad, hoping the woman had a way out of this. Instead, Niad appeared on the verge of tears. Lacrael steeled herself. If Kaiser refused to be separated from Tarathine, they would be forced to fight. She did not have to ask Niad to know that resistance was hopeless.

  The man with the ledger scratched at the front of his pad with his quill. He stopped to read his writing, nodded once to himself, and tore the writ
from the ledger. Nimble, ink-stained fingers plucked a stamp from one of his many pockets, and he gave the bill a mark to make it official. This done, he handed it to Niad.

  “The standard price for a healthy slave is one hundred pieces of silver,” he said. “This note places the city of Orcassus in your debt for the amount of nine hundred pieces of silver, triple what each slave is worth. Present it to the city mint to be paid in full. No one else is authorized to transact this note.”

  Niad took the piece of paper without saying a word. Even on edge as she was, Lacrael was still stunned by the amount of money. Nine hundred pieces of silver was a small fortune. Any other slaver would have taken the money without hesitation, existing contracts be damned.

  Beside the door, the second tomb keeper stirred. She stepped forward and revealed that she carried a handful of chained manacles. They dangled from her fist, the metal cuffs clinking together as she approached.

  “You, you, and you,” the inspector said, pointing at Kaiser, Brant, and Sorrell in turn. “Step forward. You’re my property now.”

  The three of them could not understand the inspector’s words, but their meaning was unmistakable.

  “Niad, what’s this?” Kaiser said. His voice was strained to the point of breaking.

  “There’s no other way,” Niad said. “Go with them. We’ll take care of Tarathine. With the money from this sale, if a cure exists in the city, we can find it and buy it.”

  The inspector grimaced when she heard them speaking in a foreign tongue.

  “What’s this?” the inspector said. “They don’t speak our language? Curse my old hide, I should have asked before paying you. You’re walking out of here far richer than you should be.”

  Kaiser let Niad take Tarathine from his arms. Brant sat Gustavus on the floor with his back propped up against the wall. Gustavus did not speak, but his eyes glinted in the torchlight. He watched everything.