“Hurry up, D-!” The girl shouted, but the sound of the man’s name was drowned out by the noise of the street.
The Shadow grabbed Hadjar’s hand and led him through the streets and buildings.
“Did you…”
“No,” the Shadow shook its head. “I had no father, and after courting the General for five years, I began to feel a kinship with him. Maybe he felt the same way, otherwise …”
She waved her hand again, starting the next scene. The Black General, howling furiously, was trying to break through an energy veil. He struck it fiercely with his sword, creating waves of echoes so powerful that they cut through the city as if it were made of sand. Each swing of the Black General’s sword against the veil produced a black-and-red crescent of lightning. All of them were enormous, a few hundred feet at least, but they kept going around the sphere of energies and flying on for miles. Hadjar’s heart stopped at the sight. The power of the wounded demigod was more than astonishing.
Hadjar was certain that the Shadow was protecting him somehow, or one look at what was happening would’ve ended him. The city was on fire. The buildings, trees, water, people, even the very air burned.
The golden flames consumed all.
In the center of the golden sphere that was blocking the Black General’s attacks stood a figure, one whose appearance Hadjar couldn’t discern. It held the girl’s hand.
“I told you, D-” Another explosion drowned out the name. “I’ll destroy everything you hold dear. Just as you destroyed everything that was dear to me.”
“No!” The cry of desperation created an explosion so powerful that the nearest neighborhoods were reduced to rubble. However, even such a violent storm couldn’t leave so much as a scratch on the golden dome, and then it was over.
Hadjar was back on the edge of the clouds, staring into the abyss of the universe. The crying female face hovered in front of him.
“I wasn’t the strongest, little warrior,” she said, “and you see me now only because I was the last survivor of the Sacred Abode of Wisdom. Even if I only outlived everyone else for just a few moments.”
“Who was that? Who destroyed the city and killed you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why did they want to destroy everything that the General held dear?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why did the General fall from the sky?”
“I don’t know.”
“Damn it!” Hadjar shouted, lashing out at the void. “What was his name?”
The Shadow of the last sorceress looked into Hadjar’s eyes. How many millions of years had she spent in this state, contemplating the nature of all things and unable to influence the course of events? She had witnessed the once prosperous land turn into a lifeless desert.
“My hour has come, descendant of the Enemy.” The outline of the girl’s face began to grow hazy, “I have been entrusted with the will of the Sacred Abode of Wisdom, and I have sought someone who can free me... us…”
“What was his name?”
“I can leave in peace now. The time has come for this land to vanish into the dust of time. I have only one gift for you, forgive me.”
“Tell me, Shadow, what was his name?” Hadjar cried out, feeling the clouds float away into the boundless cosmos.
Hadjar felt the cold stone beneath his feet. Blinking, he realized he was standing on the crumbling stone bridge. Behind him was the plateau, and ahead of him, blue sparks flickered faintly on the crumbling domes of the ancient buildings.
“You already know his name, Darkhan.”
Hadjar held something cold and wet in his fist. Unclenching it, he saw a small, blue plate made from an unknown stone. The same kind of stone that the girl’s bracelets had been made from.
“Are you all right, Hadjar?” Einen asked.
“Just watch, he’s going to say he knows where we need to go or make a prophecy or something like that,” Glen wailed.
“We must hurry,” Hadjar said, ignoring the Baliumian and heading toward the pavilions.
Glen had an ‘I-told-you-so’ expression on his face.
Chapter 398
The squad was marching toward the central tower. As they got closer to it, they realized that it was just the roof, and the rest of the building was hidden beneath the stone.
They should have encountered a myriad of traps and mighty guards, but they ended up taking a brisk walk. No one mentioned Serra’s gift, but Hadjar doubted that the little sorceress’ stone had any power over the defenses of the holy of holies. After three hours of fruitless wandering among the towers, Glen decided to voice what they were all thinking:
“I don’t think we’ll find anything here.”
“Was it all a lie?” Tilis bit her lip.
They were standing near the largest of the buildings. The gray brick tower stood about five hundred feet above the ground. It was so tall that, while standing at its base, it was impossible to see the top of the spire. An ancient staircase wound around the front. Or rather, its remains did, which consisted of a few steps. Everything else now looked like the ruffles on a servant’s skirt.
“Maybe our resident prophet has some more bright ideas?” The Baliumian turned to Hadjar.
The northerner was standing in the middle of the plateau, looking inward. His bleary look was the only answer Glen received.
“Damn you!” The Baliumian cursed. “Ramukhan, we have to do something.”
An hour earlier, two red dots had appeared in the sky to the west and east. Now they stretched out in long, scarlet plumes, seeking to intersect just above the tower under which the squad stood. It was only a matter of hours before other seekers, including Sankesh, discovered the place.
“Perhaps there’s an underground entrance somewhere around here,” Ramukhan said thoughtfully, stroking the beard he’d grown over the course of their journey.
“You really think so?” Glen chuckled. “Well, in that case…”
Unsheathing his sword, he exhaled noisily and unleashed a powerful attack on the plateau. It would’ve shattered any boulder, but not even a scratch appeared on the rock beneath the group’s feet. The Baliumian barely managed to still the tremor in his right hand, and then, glancing at his sword, swore viciously. There was now a chip on the cutting edge.
“What the-”
“If it were that simple, you empty-headed buffoon,” Karissa hissed, “This place wouldn’t be legendary!”
“I haven’t heard any of your brilliant ideas yet!” Glen roared in response.
While the rest of the squad argued about a solution to the problem, Hadjar remained motionless. He couldn’t believe what he’d learned. Was the Black General truly his ancestor? Did his soul really contain the General’s sword, the sword of someone he’d considered a simple hero from a fairy tale? He’d thought of him a tragic character, one that had always attracted his sympathy, but never the desire to imitate him. The Black General had so much blood on his hands... Damn, even Primus was purer and fluffier than Azrea when compared to him. No, even Derger, the God of War, was a kind person in comparison to his former General.
Moreover, he’d found a scroll with the image of the General in the ring of ‘The Black Gates’ sect’s Patriarch. Although, that one was easy enough to explain. The Black Mountains. The Black Gates. The Enemy of everything, as he was called in Einen’s stories, must have left some of his legacy behind there, as well. However, Hadjar was certain that the General was called the Enemy in most other stories and that only a few people, including his mother, had never mentioned that word, and had only called him the ‘Black General’ instead.
“Are you all right, my friend?”
The islander stepped closer and laid his hand on Hadjar’s shoulder. Hadjar snapped out of it. Not immediately, but he recovered. At the moment, he had more pressing concerns than wondering about a tiny speck of blood in his veins. So many years had passed since the Enemy’s death that star maps of the sky had managed to change
several times. Many constellations had come into being and perished. Over such a long period of time, everything that had existed in the past had become not just dust, but pure emptiness. The same kind he’d seen behind the sorceress’ shadow.
“Hey, Hadjar!”
Hadjar shook his head once more, finally emerging from his own thoughts.
“I’m here. I’m fine.” He said.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
The islander’s purple eyes were troubled.
“Later, Einen. I promise I’ll tell you everything later. There are more important things to worry about right now.”
Einen didn’t answer, but he seemed to agree. Together, they approached the other squad members.
“Divination spells this, divination spells that…” Glen was obviously mocking Tilis. “Your divination spells aren’t even fit for a turn on my ‘pod’! They’re useless! When Sankesh and the others get here…”
“He’ll let you have a turn on his pod,” Tilis said. “Men! All you can talk about is your blasted pods. What was the point of bringing you here?”
“Don’t be rude now, young witch!” Ramukhan roared back. “I’m a man and I’m your boss as well! Just take it easy and watch your tone!”
“If you were actually a man, Serra would’ve gone to bed with you instead of seeking her fortune in the outside world,” Karissa spat.
“Like Paris’ damned bitch has any right to say anything.”
Ramukhan’s staff flashed, two fiery shadows flew out from Karissa’s book’s pages, and then Tilis began whispering some sort of spell.
“Calm down!”
Hadjar slammed the hilt of his sword against the tower wall. It didn’t crack, but it sounded as if a storm had suddenly erupted nearby.
A few more seconds of tense silence passed before Karissa called back her fire spirits first. She closed her book and turned away.
“We could spend an eternity looking,” she grumbled, beginning to scrutinize every inch of the rock beneath her feet, “and never find the entrance.”
“We still have time.” Ramukhan joined her.
Soon, the whole squad was crawling over the plateau. They tried to find the slightest hint of a passage, or a magic door, or a seal, or a veil. However, it was all in vain. Over the next three hours of searching, nothing changed, and their recent truce began to dissolve. Sarcastic remarks filled the air. The seekers’ nerves were frayed, and tension was thick in the air.
Hadjar straightened up, pondering, and didn’t notice that he’d dropped the sorceress’ gift. The small blue plate caught a ray of the sun for a moment as it fell and reflected it across the plateau.
“Well,” Hadjar reached down and picked up the stone, then looked through it at the sun, “The gift…”
Hadjar let a beam of sunlight pierce through the plate once more. Turning blue, it touched the rocks on the plateau.
“How cunning!”
“Damn it!”
“Evening Stars!”
The shouts were heard on all sides. Just below them, a blue light started spreading across the rocks, assuming the form of ghostly water. It seemed to fill invisible cracks, creating a pattern of exquisite beauty. At some point, the water-light came to a standstill, completing a beautiful picture. Directly atop the stones, slightly protruding, were the outlines of a door. Instead of a keyhole, it had two recesses: the first seemed to match Serra’s gift in shape, and the second — the sorceress’ gift.
Despite the delight of the others, Hadjar wasn’t happy with what he saw. He could feel fate’s breath on him. Had he truly had no other choice but to be here from the very first moment he’d entered the Sea of Sand?
“Put something in these grooves,” Hadjar said.
When that was done, he moved. The beam slid off the plate and the pattern broke, but it didn’t matter. Going over to the grooves, Hadjar placed the probable ‘keys’ inside them. As he did so, the stones beneath them began to move. As they fanned out, they gradually revealed a winding stairway leading down into the darkness.
“It’s high time we ended this.” Hadjar went down first.
Chapter 399
Hadjar lit an oil lamp as he went down the stairs. It was a simple thing, able to work without any energy or magic — a small bit of fuel in a cube of cloudy glass. Paris had given them a few so they could avoid attracting too much attention. Whose attention? Well, even before the campaign had started, it had been clear to everyone that the library wouldn’t welcome them with open arms. The series of traps was a predictable obstacle. The fact that almost no one had attacked them on their way to the library was nothing more than luck, as Serra might have given him a desert flower instead. Although that was unlikely, of course.
Dispelling the darkness with the dim lamplight, Hadjar led the way. He stepped cautiously down the crumbling steps. Peering intently at the small, blurred patch of light reclaimed from the darkness of the dungeon, he touched the rough and damp walls.
“Evening Stars.” Karissa held her oil lamp close to the wall. Pausing, she studied the almost completely faded drawings. It was only possible to distinguish the approximate contours of what had been drawn there thanks to the fact that the paint had had metal shavings in it. “How old is this place?”
“According to the information Rahaim gave us,” Ramukhan also admired the ancient remains, “the events that took place here date back fifteen eras.”
Hadjar gasped and nearly stumbled. He could barely guess what ‘era’ meant in Underworld City. Such measurements of time weren’t used in Lidus or the Sea of Sand. It seemed almost useless, as one such unit was equal to the time it had taken the Earth to form as a planet, produce life, and for him to then be born and reborn in this strange world.
Fifteen billion years ago, no less than that. The time period which the sorceress had transported him to wasn’t merely ancient, but another dimension. It was difficult for Hadjar to perceive such a vast expanse of time…
Sighing and dismissing such thoughts, Hadjar took another step. Suddenly, the stone step beneath him slid slightly downward, making a dry metallic click as it did so. Everyone froze for a moment, and then there was a dull stone crash behind them. The spiral staircase began to crumble, raining granite down on their heads.
“Damn it,” Hadjar swore, and shouted, “Run!”
As Hadjar leapt over the violently shaking steps, carrying Karissa over his shoulder, who screamed in surprise, he blurred into the shadow of the Three Ravens. Given the extra weight and how he had to travel downward, that was his top speed. Einen, gliding along the shadows, carried Tilis. Ramukhan shouted something angrily from behind Glen.
The stones around them fell like huge drops of torrential rain. The ancient drawings crumbled and the witch lamented it.
“They’re priceless!” Karissa wept.
She didn’t seem to care about the fact that if Hadjar had stumbled or slowed down even for a moment, they would’ve been hit by multiton stones. Hadjar raced down the staircase, feeling the shards of stone and rubble slam against his back. Like sharp needles, they pierced the fabric of his caftan and bit into his flesh.
Einen, gliding along the walls, handled the situation better than the others. He slid down the oval walls of the chute, dragging Tilis lower and lower. Glen, who had laid out a path of light beneath him, was copying the islander’s glide rather successfully. Hadjar was the worst off. He had to run down the steps while jumping several times and constantly pushing off the walls to avoid slamming into them face-first.
“Damn it!” Hadjar swore again.
It felt like the faster he moved, the faster the stones fell from above. A mere mortal would stand no chance in such a trap — they would’ve probably not even realized what had sent them to their forefathers.
Hadjar slipped beneath another stone slab, drawing his blade as he went. This time, the stone didn’t land behind him, but right in front of him. Hadjar crouched so low that Karissa had to put her book in front of her fa
ce to keep her nose from plowing through the stone. As he soared through the air, Hadjar struck out with a swift slash. This launched a blue and black crescent from the blade’s cutting edge. Slicing through the falling stones, he wound his way around the supporting column and, meeting little resistance, cut through it easily. With another loud crash, part of the staircase collapsed, creating a small dome above their heads, and the stones struck it instead of them.
“It’ll collapse soon,” Hadjar gritted through clenched teeth without slowing down.
“You’re close to the exit!” came from below.
Einen had been the first to reach the bottom of the chute and now stood before an arch of blue light. A moment later, Glen landed next to him, and Ramukhan jumped down off his back.
Hadjar was only a few steps away from the ground when he heard an incredibly loud roar behind him. The rubble and stone chips flew like buckshot. They cut his face and hands, leaving deep, gray scratches behind on the walls.
Einen swung his staff and pointed it at the space in front of him. The shadows around him stretched out and formed two giant ape paws. They reached for the ceiling and pressed together beneath it. The islander had erected the shadowy barrier just in time — a second later and Hadjar would’ve been standing in a pouring rain of stone.
“Hurry up!” The islander paled, and Hadjar put his all into it.
He lunged forward and rushed past Einen, rolling across the floor. Hadjar managed to throw off Karissa, who screamed, but it took him some time to control his momentum. He had to drive Mountain Wind into the stone floor and cut a long furrow in it to finally stop.
The islander canceled his Technique, and the stones clattered down, sealing the archway and cutting the squad off from the surface.
Rising, Hadjar dusted himself off. His tattered caftan, smeared with dirt and dust, now resembled Hadjar’s favorite threadbare garments which were currently resting in his spatial ring.
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