by Wil Clayton
Chapter 17
The night passed Shaol as he sat under the fortress. After some time, the lantern started to sway between the stones around him, the halo found him and he was blinded for a moment.
"I got the rope," said Hassa from behind the light.
"Did you see Raphtune?"
"He's not in the halls."
"We'll find him afterwards," said Shaol.
"Let me make this bigger," said Hassa tossing Shaol the rope and taking up the hammer.
The stone came free much easier now and soon Hassa had made the piece had broken away. Shaol tied the rope to a pillar and Hassa threw the other end through the hole.
"You first," said Hassa, "I'll hold the light."
Shaol sat at the side of the hole, took the rope in hand and took a deep breath, the nerves took him as he realised he was off the ground again. He did not give the fear time to sit and pushed himself off the edge, the rope swung, his body lurched, something inside him broke, he lost his grip, his body hit the stone.
Shaol screamed as a fire ran through him, his head rang and his chest pulsed with a pain greater than any he had ever felt in his life. Shaol tried to move but his body would not listen to him, it rolled and convulsed on stone with a will all of its own. He started to cough and spluttered and then the pain suddenly vanished, his body became numb, his breath was short, the world spun around him.
"What happened?" yelled Hassa from above.
Shaol tried to respond but his voice would not come.
Eventually, Shaol had managed to roll himself over and pull himself up onto his hand and knees. He started to take short, jagged breath, his throat tightened and he started to cough, he heard the song, the one he had heard in the cage but it was far away in the darkness. Shaol grab at the air and forced it into his body as the pain slowly returned to him. As he did the song swam towards him, a steady beat marched forward with it but the two did not belong together.
A pair of heavy boots hit the stone next to Shaol's head and a light threw his shadow across the white stone, splattered under him were several small pools of blood.
"You're hurt," said Hassa angrily, "you should have told me you didn't know how to climb."
"I can climb," growled Shaol.
"You need to rest."
"I need to get below, I'll rest later."
"Lie on your back," demanded Hassa and Shaol lowed himself back down to ground, "how is your breath?"
"Coming back."
Hassa took the lantern from her belt and placed it on the ground. She took her hands and started to feel his chest.
The song and the beat came at him. It was disorientating as it started to sing over his thoughts. The song whirl around him and its bitter taste filled his mouth, he started to rub his tongue around the inside of his mouth trying to rid himself of the horrid taste but it refused to move, the drumming began to hit him hard and his bones started to shake with each blunt thud.
Hassa found the loose bone, Shaol yelped and his body jerked away.
"You have to watch yourself," said Hassa her voice cutting easily through the noise, "that rib is broken and it won't take much to make it fatal."
"It's not important," stammered Shaol it was so hard to think or speak with the sounds.
"You're no good dead, Shaol."
"We need? below."
Shaol knew he was shouting.
"You need to be careful."
"I will," yelled Shaol, "but I have to get?"
Hassa shook her head as she watched Shaol struggle up from the ground.
"We move slowly," insisted Hassa.
Shaol gritted his teeth as they started to vibrate as the beats came across him. He saw Hassa's puzzled expression, he was just as confused but he need to get below. He steadied himself against the assaulting noise and nodded. Shaol stumbled to the side of the pyramid as the beat legs his limbs as he went.
"I'll go down first," said Hassa walking up behind him, "and then I'll lower you down."
Hassa handed Shaol the lantern and she hopped down the side of the step. Shaol wished she would hurry as the song started to make his vision blur. He frantically tried to rub the horrid, sour taste off his tongue.
"Pass me the lantern," said Hassa holding up her hand as Shaol sat on the side of the stone.
The lantern was passed and placed on the next step. Hassa then took hold of Shaol's foot.
"Don't keep any weight on your hands," commanded Hassa, "all the weight goes into your boot."
Shaol grunted unable to respond as the song knocked the words from his mind. He needed to be careful he managed to scream to himself above the song. He shifted his weight onto Hassa's hand, his boots pressing hard into her palms, Shaol lowered himself off the step and as he did he felt something move in his body but the pain was kept from him by the beat that dominated his body. Hassa grunted as she lowered Shaol to ground, he step forward and the two were down a single step.
Hassa nodded and smiled, Shaol managed a weak smile in return. Hassa took the lantern and held it over the edge of the next step. The pyramid continued down a few dozen steps before meeting the lifeless dust.
"We need to keep going," struggled Shaol, "can you?"
"Yes."
The two continued their awkward dance as they made their way down the pyramid buried below the fortress of Tarlnath. As they went the song that climbed and the beat that was low and steady became more and more distant, slowly losing their dominance over Shaol who had never felt so relieved when his mind and body were finally his own again.
With the sounds gone Shaol was finally able to take note of the world around him. Metal pillars dropped from the ceiling and dug themselves into the steps of the pyramid. Strung between the slender pillars were ropes made of the same red and grey metal.
Shaol pushed himself from a step halfway down the pyramid into Hassa's waiting hands when his mind suddenly became alert and sharp. The water caravan was waking and would soon be moving beyond the outer gates, Rag and Cutter would be with them.
The pain in Shaol's chest persisted and would come to life whenever he shifted the weight the wrong way. Hassa did what she could but Shaol always needed to lean back as he lowered himself and when he did the loose bone would move and his body would burn, but his cough did not return and Hassa was not aware of the pain, so it did not matter.
Shaol looked down at Hassa, she was covered in sweat, her breath was short and her slender arms started to shake.
"We should rest," he said.
"I don't need to rest."
"I do."
"Then, we rest for a short time."
Shaol sat against the rough stone of step and took deep breaths calmly searching for the source of pain, it was at the base of chest where Aksit had landed the blow with the metal pole.
Hassa placed the lantern down, sat next to him and gave out a heavy sigh.
"We'll need to find a way back up," said Hassa looking up at the web of metal ropes, "you won't be able to climb a rope with that injury."
"I know," nodded Shaol, "the hole is not high off the temple, we can find something to stand on."
"We can make a ramp with barrels and wood from the fortress, it may take some time but it is possible."
"How many have you told?"
"A dozen or so," said Hassa, "enough that I can get what I need."
Hassa pulled a leather bladder from her belt.
"Here, drink."
Shaol took the bladder and drank deeply. The water was cool in his mouth, it was so much clearer and lighter than the milk he normally drank.
"Do you know their names?"
"Of course," said Hassa, "why?"
"If they come with us, Friend will take home."
Shaol slid the bladder back across the stone.
"You will save them all," said Hassa shaking her head.
"As many as I can."
"Eighteen, exactly. How will you get them under the wall?"
"With the cloaks of the Gr
ey Men," said Shaol with a nod.
Hassa did not respond. Shaol looked out at the strange metal pillars that grew from the ground below.
"You're very capable," said Shaol, "why did you wait for me?"
"I can only do so much," said Hassa, "Sulla has told me that only you can end it, no one else. If it could be any other way we would not be here tonight."
"I'm nobody."
"As am I," said Hassa, "that does not mean we're not capable of great things."
Eighteen more to take under the black wall that was what Shaol knew he must do now. He tried to make the numbers behave in his mind as he found he would need twenty cloaks. Eighteen, Hassa, Raphtune and himself that he then needed to hide in the city until Friend could return for them.
How many would die if they were caught this time? If dozens were killed for what he had done before, the next time it would be more than he could count. Shaol knew this, that was how the Masters kept control and they kept control for as long as he could remember. And they would have control as long as the city stood. And Friend would have it that way.
The Grey Men were finding their way into his mind like Aksit, who had landed a blow that would plague him days afterwards, the Grey Men were cutting into his mind slowly and deeply but Shaol would not give into these thoughts, not when he was so close to it all being done. Twenty one would find their way under the black wall and into the city that was path he walked now.
The two sat in silence as time passed, Hassa lost in her own thoughts until Shaol pulled himself up from the step.
"We should continue," he said.
Hassa nodded, took up the lantern and the pair returned to the dance that took them down the steps of the pyramid.
Shaol's boots sank into the loss dirt as he stepped out of Hassa's hand, a cloud of fine dust rose up from where he met the ground, it floated upwards in the light and slowly faded to nothing. Shaol coughed as the fine dust tickled his nose, Hassa eyes snapped to him.
"Just the dust," smiled Shaol.
"Good," nodded Hassa and pointed into the distance, "I think I saw a road."
In the dim light, strange, broken forms rose from the ground ahead marking something that appeared to be a road leading to the front of the temple.
Hassa led the way with her lantern as Shaol looked above at the pyramid that now towered next to them. It was just as he had seen in the vision but the pillar of light he had seen was gone, it was long dead like everything else in this city.
The metal pillars that held the fortress over head passed to the left and right. There was no pattern to the arrangement, the pillars were thrown wherever they were needed. Shaol looked out beyond the ring of light and wondered if the any of leather tents had also survived the years. For a moment, he wanted to take the lantern from Hassa and see what he could find in darkness, but what he needed was inside the temple and nothing else mattered.
The broken shapes became clearer, they were shattered pillars of white stone which flanked a road sealed with slabs of broken, dark stone. The shards of stone road had broken sets of tracks that had been dug, deep into it from the passage of wagons and carts. To the right the road vanished into the darkness, to the left it ran immediately into a square opening cut into the two steps at the base of the temple.
"Inside, then?" asked Hassa.
Shaol looked into the black entrance of the temple, he did not know when Friend would come to guide him but he knew the treasure was inside and she would appear if he became lost.
"Yes."
The pair followed the black stone road into the temple, the light washed over the walls of tunnel, revealing figures on the wall. They were dressed in all manner of clothing as they marched into the centre of the temple, some held weapons, others held plants, others stooped low as they carried bundles of goods and heavy pots on their back. Shaol looked over the large images made of thick red lines, even when this temple was not buried there were ones to bring the goods. He looked at Hassa, she simply led the way down the long, straight tunnel uninterested by what covered walls.
The figures continued their march until the tunnel opened into a squat room. There were no pillars as far as lantern light could penetrate but somehow the roof held itself above. Arranged in neat piles were small stacks of goods and materials, swords and armours, clay pots and plates, wooden tables and chairs laying rotting and twisted, remains of sacks and their spoilt contents, bars of rusted metals were placed neatly one on top of another.
Shaol and Hassa kept moving forward through the piles. They passed a group of clay statues of fat beasts, colourful paint peeled from the brown skin of the figures. Shaol ran a finger across the nose of one of the beasts, the fell colour fell away at his touch and gathered on the black floor.
"Is this what you came to see?" asked Hassa stopping and lowering the lantern to her side.
Shaol looked around at the piles, what he saw was odd but nothing he could not have found above.
"No."
"Then, will your friend show us the way?" asked Hassa with a sigh.
"She will when we are lost until then we should continue on our way."
Hassa shook her head but said nothing and the pair continued to move through the dark, endless room. Then Shaol heard it, a low beat that came from somewhere beyond the light. At first, he did not want to approach, the sounds had already tortured him tonight and did not want to let them attack him again, but the beat may be important, he could not ignore it.
"There is something this way," said Shaol pointing towards the source of the drumming.
The sounds grew louder as Shaol found his way through the piles, he wondered why there was no song to join it. It was nothing but an erratic beat, that would thump and then it would not, then there were too many, all at once. Shaol walked ahead of Hassa looking for the thing that sang to him.
The light found it, sitting alone amongst the piles, an ornate, white, stone chair on top of a round step that drummed to itself as it had for countless years. Small, carved men wove themselves together to make the arms and legs of the chair, its back was a large triangle that would tower above any who sat in it carved with lines that started at its apex and reached towards the base.
"The roof," said Hassa from behind.
Shaol looked up, cut into the ceiling above the chair was a circular, metal door.
"A way in?" puzzled Shaol.
The beat from the chair had started to become louder and closer as had the others but then it stopped. It did not invade Shaol's body, it kept a comfortable distance.
"What do we do?" asked Hassa.
"I don't know," replied Shaol, "but we need to use the sound."
"What sound?"
"The sound from the chair."
"There's no sound, Shaol."
Shaol looked at the chair.
"Shaol, sit on the chair," said Friend for the edge of the light.
"She speaks," said Hassa turning towards Friend.
The outline of the wings faded and the space was empty again.
"Why is your friend scared of me?" asked Hassa.
"She isn't," said Shaol quickly and stepped up onto the rise, "do you want to come any further?"
Hassa stepped onto the stone.
"I'll be there when you find the nothing at the end of your path."
Raphtune appeared at the edge of the light.
"One moment," he said making his way across the floor.
"You don't have to keep to the shadows," said Hassa, "there's nothing here."
Raphtune joined the pair on the smooth, stone step.
"I think you should have looked closer," said Raphtune simply.
"What did you see?" asked Shaol.
"Tracks in dirt outside, looks like a group of people were running out of this place, the tracks go a ways, then nothing, they just end."
"I should have seen that," said Shaol shaking his head.
"And then this place," continued Raphtune looking around at the darkness, "nothing is miss
ing, everything is placed orderly and were it should be. There is a stone table that has been broken, over there. Someone has put it back together the best they could without tools, it so flimsy a touch would knock it apart again."
"You're paranoid," said Hassa, "it's normal for a child to be scared of the dark."
"Raphtune the Missing is never paranoid, but he does fear the things that come from the darkness as should you."
"We won't stay long," said Shaol, "we will leave before anything has the chance to find us."
"Agreed," said Raphtune with a nod.
Shaol lowered himself into the chair and as he made contact with the stone the rhythm filled his mind and pulsed in his body like the ones that had come before. Somehow he knew the beat was wrong and different, it was missing the structure it needed.
Shaol continued to listen to the chair. A beat. Then nothing, then nothing again, then a beat followed by another beat, quickly. It frustrated him and he struggled against it, why wasn't the beat where it should be. He listened again, how was the beat meant to be. It was meant to be beat, pause, pause, beat that was beat he needed to hear then it came from the chair. Beat, pause, pause, beat. The step lifted into the air. Beat. The stone dropped.
Hassa gasped and cursed as she grabbed the stone chair and steadied herself.
Shaol found the sound again. Beat, pause, pause, beat. The stones rose. Pause, pause, beat. The stone continued to rise. Beat. The stone dropped back to the floor. Raphtune started to tumble to the side, he then leapt from the stone and landed gracefully a few feet from floor.
"Did Raphtune the Missing slip?" laughed Hassa.
"Quiet," snapped Raphtune and quickly pulled himself back on the stone as it rose again.
Beat, pause, pause, beat, pause, pause, beat, pause, pause. Shaol had found it, the chair did as it should. The metal door scrapped open above. Beat, beat, beat. The stone dropped to the ground and the metal drop scrapped shut.
Shaol felt a slap across his face, it was Raphtune.
"Damn it, Shaol," he growled, "focus on what your doing."
Raphtune was right, he needed to focus again. He took himself away from the world underneath the fortress, surrounded by the strange, forgotten images. He was in his kitchen washing the black muck from the pots, bringing the metal slowly back to life. Beat, pause, pause, beat, pause, pause, beat. The rhythm of Pysuun's breath came from under the blanket. It changed to meet that of the beat Shaol needed. Snort, breath, breath, snort, breath, breath. The pure white of the milk slipped over Shaol's hands. Beat, pause, pause.
Something flashed from beyond Shaol's kitchen but the muck needed to be scrubbed in the world he knew. Beat, pause, pause, beat, pause, pause. Pysuun's continued to breathe from under his blanket, the window that looked into the yard was empty except the red hair reflected in its surface, Shaol was at peace in the black of the window. There he was nothing but the sound. Beat, pause, pause, beat, pause, pause.
"Shaol," called Hassa from somewhere beyond his kitchen, "we're here."