by Brad Carsten
The guard wasn't carrying a lantern, but he didn't seem to need one, as he slipped along the narrow passage like a rat in a barn. They soon lost sight of him, and it wasn't long before his shambling footsteps faded completely.
Liam moved as quickly as he could, feeling his way along the cluster of shapes jutting into the passage like arms reaching for them. The wings made it difficult to go any faster without bumping into something and bringing it all down on top of their heads.
Liam was so focused on the path ahead, that he walked right into an open doorway like a soakwit.
It led into a room like any other with boxes and barrels stacked to the rafters and a narrow passage running through it. In the middle, a black, sinewy creature sat on the floor holding a fully-grown man to its breast.
He was a ruffian, with a broken nose and callused skin, like someone you wouldn't want to meet in an alley at night, but he lay on that cursed thing's lap, suckling like an infant.
Before Liam could fall back, those black eyes snapped onto him, and a shriek pierced through the hall.
As quick as a bear trap, it slipped its long black fingers into the man's mouth and pried his jaws apart. White liquid ran down the man's chin, and into a gaudy shirt that must have been a hundred years old.
The creature was six-foot-tall at least, and yet it somehow managed to squeeze its head into the man's mouth and disappear inside.
He had been staring blankly into the wall, but life returned to those cruel eyes and they slowly turned up to Liam. He crept forward on his hands and feet, with his shoulders arched like a cat stalking its prey.
Liam went for his dagger and the man drew his sword and charged. He slammed into Liam, throwing him back into the piles of furniture, and knocking the dagger out of his hand.
The man swung his blade and Liam turned a shoulder into him, driving him back.
Teeth snapped at Liam's throat, and he fought to keep them back. With so little space, the man brought his sword hilt down into Liam's jaw, lashing his head to the side.
Liam's vision whitened, but he held on. Again, the sword lashed, hitting him just below the eye.
The third time Liam turned, twisting back the man's arm, and forcing the sword out of his hand. Liam drove him into a stack of barrels, and hit him over and over until he collapsed onto the floor.
The man snatched up the dagger, and Liam scrambled for the sword. He turned as the dagger struck out, slicing into his arm.
The man thrust, Liam turned aside, and the dagger pegged into a wooden crate. He wrenched back on it, but the dagger resisted, and Liam swung, slicing through his neck. The head dropped to the floor with a wet thud.
Liam fell back against a ladder, breathing hard.
Kaylyn had her prybar in her hands and was breathing just as hard. She must have landed a few hits of her own. “Liam, you're bleeding.” She drew out her silk handkerchief and held it to the gash along his arm.
“I'll be okay. I just need to get some air. What was that anyway?”
“I wouldn't even try to guess. I know almost everything about the kingdom, and have read more books than I can count, but I've never heard of anything like that.” She pulled a larger piece of cloth from one of the piles and used it as a bandage. That would have to do until he could get it stitched up.
The corpse jerked. Its arm hit into the wooden crate, and Liam jumped. Its leg kicked out, and then the cursed thing turned onto its stomach—without a head!
Long black fingers curled out of the neck, followed by an elongated head, and eyes as black as the night. The creature oozed out the corpse like a calf being born. It snapped its teeth at them, before turning and scampering down the passage on all fours with its spine jutting into the air.
“Stop that thing,” Liam growled. “We have to stop it. If it warns the others, we're done for.”
The creature darted down the passage like a ferret, moving as easily along the floor as it did along the walls, toppling the carefully laid out piles of goods onto the floor as it went. Liam ran after it, stumbling over fallen items, and knocking over more as he went.
He threw the sword to Kaylyn and drew his bow as the creature reached the side passage where they'd entered the tower.
It skidded out of range of the bow, past the piles of boxes and wooden frames.
Liam reached the passage where they'd first seen the ten-foot suit of armour. The visor was open, and the light reflected off a giant's pale face, as the creature disappeared into its mouth.
“There's someone in that thing!” Liam shrieked.
The knight's head turned towards him, and slowly it drew a massive hammer off of its back.
Liam fired an arrow, but it just glanced off of the breastplate and pegged into a wooden board.
Liam scrambled back into Kaylyn, who had just caught up to him. “Run,” he shouted. “Run.”
The floor trembled under the giant's heavy footsteps.
Liam pulled over the shelves as he went, trying to slow its charge. Pots and braziers and lanterns spilled onto the floor. It would take a while for anyone to get through that, but the knight swung his giant hammer, cleaving a path through it, like he was cutting through wheat with a scythe. It hardly slowed him at all.
Liam ran, stumbling over everything on the floor.
At the end of the passage, they hit into a solid door. Kaylyn rattled the handle and slapped it but it wouldn't budge. “It's locked,” she shouted.
“Move, move.” Liam kicked the door over and over. He stepped back and rammed his shoulder into it. “Are you sure you don't want to use some of that power of yours?”
“No,” she said stubbornly. “We can find another way. I told you, I'm done with that life. I can't believe you'd ask that of me.”
Liam swore under his breath, but she was right to refuse. He had given her his word, and besides, casting would bring every hunter for a hundred miles after them again, and this time, Kaylyn wouldn't get back into Luthengard to get another scrael.
The knight's footsteps thudded closer. The light dimmed, as his bulk filled the passage.
Liam fired two arrows, and another and another, but they just glanced off the armour.
Liam replaced his bow and shouted for his sword. He snatched it out of the air as the knight barreled into him.
He was thrown aside, and his sword slid across the floor. His head smashed against a pile of crates, and he fell face first onto the tiles.
Kaylyn managed to avoid the charge by scrambling up the pile of boxes.
“Is that all you've got,” Liam shouted at the knight. He pulled himself up, unsteadily, and had to stretch his eyes to get them back into focus.
The knight turned to face him, raising its hammer.
It was time to end this. Liam clicked the catch on his wings down a few notches, and charged.
He caught the knight around his middle, and pulled the trigger. The force of the impact exploded through him. The knight was carried back into the door. The hinges gave way in a cloud of dust and wooden splints, and they slid along the floor into the next room.
Liam rolled onto his back, groaning. He tried to get up, but it felt like he'd been rolled down a mountain in a barrel. He flinched as that giant hammer slammed down next to him, crashing into the Knight's helm. Kaylyn tried to lift the hammer for a second strike, but this time she only managed to lift it to her belly before her strength failed and the massive head clattered to the floor. At least the knight wasn't moving.
He met Kaylyn's eyes, and they both breathed a sigh of relief, and then Kaylyn's eyes slid past his into the room beyond, and her expression changed. “Uh, Liam...”
Liam rolled over, wondering what in Fate's name was waiting for them now.
The door had opened into a large hall—no, not a hall, but the tower itself, Liam realised. A dozen or more stone walkways circled the perimeter, leaving a gap in the middle that reached all the way to the top. As with the rest of the tower, the cells were being used for storage, while hu
ndreds of prisoners hung upside down in yellowish cocoon-like secretions with only their open mouths left free. Many were plastered to the wall, while others hung down the center of the tower on the ends of what looked like threads of dripping honey. Black shapes swarmed over them like flies over a rotting carcass. They were everywhere, and most of those black eyes had turned on Liam and Kaylyn. Screeches pierced through the tower, starting at the bottom, and swirling up as more took up the cry.
“Grout,” Liam said. It was the strongest word he could think of.
Black shapes slipped down those open gullets like eels. Eyes snapped open, and men, carrying swords and daggers and axes, began extracting themselves from their casings.
“Time to get out of here,” Liam shouted.
“I've got a better idea.” Kaylyn latched the wings into place. With a click, she launched through the gap in the center and glided onto the second floor.
“No, no, Kaylyn, no.” Was she mad? Snarling men charged towards him. Cursing, he reached for his latch, but what other choice did he have? With a click he blasted into the air, narrowly missing the walkway. If he never saw these cursed wings again, he'd die a happy man.
He landed on the platform alongside Kaylyn, and stumbled to catch his footing. He didn't think he'd ever get use to these.
“Kaylyn, what are you doing? It's over. We need to go. Now.”
“We wouldn't have snuck through that anyway,” she shouted. “I'm improvising.”
She launched off as a group of savage looking men circled in. Liam fumbled with his catch and shot off, just as those things swarmed over the walkway.
Up he climbed with Kaylyn just ahead. They had to aim for gaps, and launch again almost as soon as they landed.
Liam clicked his wings, and was about to jump, when he caught sight of that dress, two floors down. “The warden!” If they wanted to get through the doors at the top without using a knight as a battering ram, they needed those keys.
He slipped the bow off his shoulder and drew two arrows.
“What are you doing?” Kaylyn shouted.
“I'm getting the keys. It's my turn to improvise.” He jumped, spreading out his wings and glided across the hall in a tight arc.
He had never heard Kaylyn cursing, but he was sure he heard it now.
The prisoners were rushing up the stairs, swamping the lower levels. This was going to be close.
Liam flew over the balcony, boots first, into a prisoner's chest, knocking him back. His arrows took down two more and he shouldered into the warden.
The mass of bodies burst up the stairs flooding onto the walkway.
Liam grabbed the keys, but the warden was strong. Liam brought his knee up into the warden's gut, but that was about as useful as stomping on his boot. Whatever these things were, they didn't need the prisoners to breathe. Struggling against each other, they hit into a pile of dulcimers and psalteries, scattering them across the floor.
Something flashed past Liam's face, and the warden crumpled. Kaylyn stood over them holding the prybar in both hands.
“That's the second time I owe you one.” He ripped the keys free and threw them to her. “Go. Go.” The prisoners were almost on them, with another one of those cursed ten-foot knights charging through them like a bull through a tavern. Liam ran for the railing, just behind kaylyn and jumped. A sword lashed out, cutting into his leg. His foot slipped and he fell.
He slammed face first into one of those secreted cages, and fell backwards onto the tiles. His leg snapped, and he screamed as waves of pain ripped through him. Through it, he could hear Kaylyn's voice like she was standing next to him. She was climbing over the balcony, with her arms stretched towards him as though she could reach him from up there, or perhaps she was going to use her power, but it was too late for that. He couldn't get far with a broken leg, and he couldn't let her cast. She had somehow found herself—the real her, at Lord Bowen's manor, and he wouldn't take that away from her. “No,” he shouted. He was done. She'd have to do the rest on her own. Fighting through the pain, he drew the vial out of his pouch and scratched out the cork. Time to see if this works. “Go,” he managed. “Go. I'll see you on the outside.”
Livius was an intelligent man, but he may also be insane. Either way, in the periphery of his vision Liam could make out those lifeless faces hanging above him and he knew he'd rather risk dying than end up like that. He said a quick prayer before tipping the vial to his lips. It tasted like sour sweat, and that, along with the pain brought it bubbling back up into his mouth causing him to choke.
Through his tears, the room began swimming in and out of focus. His eyes grew heavy. He could barely make out the shapes of men surrounding him, and then he was gone.
***
Kaylyn watched in horror as Liam slammed into an enclosure. His wings spread out a moment before he hit the floor.
Those creatures started towards him like vultures. Kaylyn had promised herself that she'd never use her power again, but she threw that aside. That familiar evil like bile oozed up inside of her, but she'd give herself up to the darkness again a thousand times over if it meant saving him. She threw out her hands to cast a ring of fire around him, but their eyes met, and for a moment the room faded and they were all that there was. Time seemed to stand still.
He breathed out, and she could hear it as though his mouth was pressed up against her ear. She could feel his breath brushing across her cheek.
His heart beat twice as fast as hers, and she could feel the broken bone in his leg.
Gaharah was closing its cruel hands around her. Liam shook his head, just slightly, and his voice, still and calm exploded through her. “No,” was all he said, and the evil blew back, like dust on a windy day, and it was replaced by something that she hadn't felt for a long, long time: the feeling that someone cared deeply about her.
Her heartbeat quickened. The same feeling she had when she kissed him returned, like she was a young girl scratching hearts in the sand. At the time, she didn't know if he felt the same way about her, and she was afraid that he had been caught up in the moment, that it hadn't meant anything, but now she felt it, as sure as her own beating heart. There was someone out there that loved her.
She drank it in ravenously. He tipped the vial to his lips, and the room began to return, and his heartbeat faded and his breathing faded.
She climbed up onto the balcony, chasing that feeling, and feeling desperate not to lose him. Panic swelled up inside of her. He was slipping away—further, and further away. The connection between them ripped back, and she was alone.
Liam lay on the floor, no longer moving, no longer writhing in pain.
The prisoners swarmed over him like ants, and only backed off again when one of those giant knights thudded towards them. The knight leaned over to check for a heartbeat, and when he couldn't find one, he grabbed Liam's arm and dragged him out of the room, like he was taking out the scraps.
Kaylyn felt more alone than she'd ever felt before. She turned slowly, seeing those creatures rushing towards her, and she took a deep breath. It was time to go, yet none of it seemed quite as important as it had when they first arrived.
She was still in a daze, when she reached the highest walkway. The final stretch led up a flight of stairs to another solid door. There were no cages this high up and the walkways were empty, but those grunts and snarls echoed up the tower walls. She didn't have long. She tried the first key, then the second, then the third. “Come on, come on, come on,” she urged. She had to get back to Liam. She tried ten, eleven, twelve keys.
The creatures reached the landing. Seeing her made them even more feverish, and they rushed towards her like evil marionettes.
She tried the thirteenth key and the lock clicked open. With a squeak, she rushed through the door and barely managed to get it shut and locked as the creatures slammed into it from the other side, rattling the door in its frame.
She slid down the door onto the floor until her heart had a chance to settle.<
br />
She didn't have much time though. Those knights would reach the top eventually, and when they did, the door wouldn't hold them back. This was it. She had to finish what she came here to do.
The room was small, consisting of four cells, and unlike the rest of the tower, the wardens hadn't stored anything up there. Kaylyn ran from cell to cell, throwing open the doors and doing a quick search of the rooms until she reached the final cell. It was the only one still locked.
“Hello,” she called. “Is anyone here?” she knocked, but there was no reply.
Behind her, the creatures were pounding on the door.
Kaylyn tried the keys until her shaking hands found the one that worked. The lock clicked, and she eased the door open. “Hello,” she repeated. The room was dark. Rats scurried past her, causing her to jump.
And then she saw him—a man sitting against the wall with a chain around his ankle. He was so thin, he had hardly any meat left to lose, and his clothes were tattered. Through the dirt and grime, Kaylyn noticed the raven sigel that was worn by the knights of the fallen, and her heartbeat quickened.
She approached him carefully. He wasn't moving. He didn't appear to be breathing. “Was this man responsible for what happened in Almswick?”
Kaylyn touched his arm, and his hand snapped onto her wrist, twisting her arm back.
“What do you want?”
“Are you the knight of the fallen?” she said, her voice trembling. “I'm here to rescue you. And can you let go of my arm.”
“Who are you?”
“I'm princess Kaylyn of house Talendor. I've come to take you out.”
He studied her for a time before loosening his grip. She pulled her arm free and began massaging her wrist.
He shut his eyes, dropping his head back against the wall, and began to chuckle. “We're not getting out. I'm never getting out of here. I don't even know if you're real or not, but I'm not getting out.”
“Listen to me.” Kaylyn crouched in front of him. “Do you hear that banging sound? There are a hundred guards about to break through the tower door, and then it's over.”