Shiera considered the matter. Raffan was relying on her knowledge and skills to find the secrets that had evaded his lord for so long. All she had to do was come up with a reason why time was of the essence.
“I think I have some notions,” Shiera finally answered. “Leave it to me.”
His gaze suddenly shifted to something behind her, and his mouth became a tight line.
Shiera instinctively twisted around to see what would make the stolid man react so violently.
The four cloaked and hooded forms were not merely passersby, but rather a group of crusaders clearly on a mission. Two were dour men who by comparison made Daryus seem a cheerful sort. Another was a sturdy woman with just as dark a cast as the men.
Yet, most of all, it was the apparent leader who seized Shiera’s attention. Slimmer and more lithe than the other woman, she moved through the crowd with eyes constantly sweeping over each individual she passed. Shiera estimated her to be a decade or even two older than the others, but clearly fitter than most fighters half her age. A hint of pale blond hair peaked out of her hood.
The steely gray gaze took in Shiera, and the lead crusader slowed her pace long enough to study the Pathfinder. Without meaning to, Shiera swallowed anxiously, as if guilty.
The gray eyes moved on. The quartet continued through the throng, gradually fading in the distance.
Recovering, Shiera turned back to Daryus. “Who is—”
She was alone.
Swearing under her breath with a talent worthy of any of Captain Galifar’s men, Shiera found no trace of her hired sword. Grunting, she chose to forgo concerning herself with Daryus and instead focus on the suggestion that he had made. Whatever her frustrations with the man, his idea still held merit.
She started after Raffan, only to have Galifar confront her before she could cover half the gap. The mercenary captain grinned. “Master Raffan has a task for you.”
Shiera bristled. Raffan’s employer might be paying for this expedition, but that didn’t mean that Raffan could order her around like one of the mercenaries, or even Daryus. She was the key to the expedition’s success, after all. “You must be mistaken. I don’t jump at the command of anyone. I—”
Still grinning, Galifar held up a small parchment. Shiera recognized it as identical in make to the pages in Raffan’s small book. “Maybe he said ‘request.’ Maybe.”
Shiera no longer listened to him. Instead, she fixated on the symbol that someone had drawn in the center of the page. The hand had evidently been shaking, perhaps from great age, but had still retained the skill to make a very good image.
A one-eyed wolf peering to the left. That in itself would have been enough to catch the Pathfinder’s interest, but there was also a set of small symbols beneath the head, some of which Shiera recognized.
She snatched the sheet from Galifar’s fingers. The mercenary laughed at her eagerness. “So you’ll do it, then. Glad that’s settled.”
Shiera hadn’t even paid attention to the rest of the page. Belatedly she saw that Raffan had written a note above the image.
Found in dig west of Kenabres. Symbol recognized by elder worker as seen somewhere in city. Located one instance near city center, but spot later destroyed. Believe other matching symbols exist. Should be investigated by you since we’re here, don’t you think?
The comments sent several conflicting thoughts rushing through the Pathfinder’s head, not the least of which that according to what Raffan had written, hers was apparently not the first expedition sponsored by Raffan’s mysterious benefactor. It bothered her, but hints of what secrets the city still held quickly assuaged her.
“You’ll not be seeing Master Raffan until we’re supposed to depart,” Galifar went on, his sarcastic smile still strong. “Doubt that’ll be a problem for you after all, though, eh?”
It took a moment to catch just what he meant by the last. Clearly, Raffan had expected that she would attempt to back up Daryus’s hope of departing Kenabres tomorrow. With some guilt, she shook her head. “No, it won’t be.”
“That’s a good girl.” The captain winked at Shiera, then headed off.
Her anger at the mercenary’s condescending attitude quickly faded as she peered again at the page. Despite Daryus’s hopes, Shiera knew she would need every minute of the three days Raffan had given her to research these new clues. She cursed both Raffan and herself, but not for a moment considered rejecting Raffan’s suggestion. Shiera had not pushed this far to miss a chance of finding more evidence that could lead her to her goal. Daryus was a capable man; she was certain that he could fend for himself for three days, even here.
Looking around, Shiera once more saw no sign of him. She also saw no sign of her horse, which she realized he had taken along with his own and the pack animals. The Pathfinder surveyed the buildings beyond and tried to guess exactly where Daryus taken the beasts.
Instead of the fighter, something else caught her attention: a tiny figure she knew so very well by now. Toy scurried along the top of a wagon, the weasel peeking over the other side as if following a trail.
Daryus. He must be following Daryus. Before she started her research, Shiera needed to find out where he planned on arranging rooms. Of course, she also needed to tell him that they would be staying for all three days.
Feeling somewhat better about her decision, Shiera hurried after the weasel. At first she feared the animal would disappear down into the throng, but fortunately, Toy seemed inclined to stay high and in sight. When the wagon ended, the weasel leapt to a passing merchant. The hefty man had just time to start reacting before Toy jumped to the saddle of a crusader. From there, the weasel jumped to another wagon. All the while, though, Toy kept in view.
Curiously, Daryus’s pet scurried far beyond the establishments that Shiera would have expected the fighter to choose. She could only assume that the first inns had left some indication that they were full. Daryus would have to keep moving along until he found some place for the party, even if that meant going far afield from where Raffan might desire.
Toy jumped atop another horse, this one that of a grimy figure Shiera judged to be a mercenary she likely could have hired for less than half what Raffan had paid Galifar’s men. Shiera’s hand immediately went to her sword. She doubted the rider had as much training as she did, and he likely depended on brute strength to succeed.
The mercenary turned his mount to a shadowy side street. Toy looked unperturbed, the weasel actually settling down. His gaze continued ahead, though, presumably in order to keep Daryus in view. A good thing, too, since thus far Shiera had not gotten one glimpse of her quarry.
The rider continued into an older, less maintained section of the city. Shiera wondered how long she would have to follow the mercenary, only to stumble to an abrupt halt when Toy abandoned his place and leapt to the ground. The weasel veered off into another side passage, vanishing from sight.
Growing uncertain as to whether the animal actually followed Daryus after all, Shiera nevertheless continued to follow. She had committed herself, and if Daryus had not gone this way, then she had no idea why Toy would be rushing along so intently.
Yet her uncertainty only multiplied when, instead of turning toward three slightly rundown but serviceable inns, the weasel headed toward what appeared to be a shuttered temple.
Shiera paused. She saw no hint of the horses in front of any of the inns. It was possible Daryus had stabled them already, but she doubted that was the case.
A chittering noise brought her attention back to Toy. The weasel sniffed at the boarded-up entrance, turned from the temple to a gap near one of the city sewer openings.
Toy slipped into the large gap, disappearing below the street.
Something urged the Pathfinder to head to where the weasel had gone. The discarded temple stirred her interests. She recalled Raffan’s request and wondered if perhaps the wandering Toy had inadvertently given her a place to start.
Telling herself that Daryus would ce
rtainly have everything well in hand where lodging for the party was concerned, Shiera gave in to her desire and began intently studying the temple exterior. It was not uncommon in great cities such as Kenabres to find such abandoned structures. She had explored two such places herself. One had been nothing but masonry and dust, but the other had still held valuable texts.
Shiera peeked into the hole where Toy had gone. At first glance, she saw nothing. Curious, Shiera made a slight whistling sound in the hopes of attracting Toy back to her. When the weasel did not appear, she tried again.
Something landed on her back.
Shiera lost her balance and fell into the hole. That might have meant her death, save for the fact that just below the entrance and out of sight from her angle, a sloping wall she guessed was designed to let rain water spill in easier now acted like a slide. She rolled all the way to the bottom, but ended up with only a few bruises and sense of foolishness.
The moment she regained her senses, Shiera looked up. There was no sign of whatever it was that had collided with her. She wondered if she had somehow disturbed a feral cat.
A faint blue glow greeted her from another passage at the far end of the chamber. Shiera started toward it, but after stumbling over something in the nearby dark, paused again. It would not do to go any farther unless she could see the ground. The glow was not strong enough to illuminate her surroundings.
Like most Pathfinders, Shiera kept the necessary components to light a fire. Drawing her tinderbox, she located the driest piece of wood she could find. A few strikes and she had herself a fair torch.
She almost doused it again after taking in the generations of trash, small decaying shapes, crawling vermin, and piles of refuse that had accumulated down here. She had already smelled how awful it all was, but seeing it proved even worse. Swearing, she tried to focus on something—anything—that would take her mind off of the stench.
The path proved precarious, with a dark, slippery slime over everything. Twice, Shiera almost fell, the second time too close to the nearly clogged river of refuse. She also noticed that the slime lined the walls almost to the ceiling, a sign that at times this chamber filled high.
With great relief, the Pathfinder finally reached the other side. There, she noticed the glow had somehow retreated deep into the other passage. Where originally Shiera had believed she would be able to see into the new area once she reached it, now the glow lay some distance ahead.
Something about the arching entrance caught her attention. Upon examination, she noted that whoever had built it had done so long before the chamber she had just crossed. Here was part of some more ancient section of the city waterworks, one built even more securely. She found an area devoid of the slime and ran one finger over where two of the stone blocks touched one another. She felt no trace of any mortar or other material sealing the blocks together, and suspected there had never been any. Some of the most amazing constructions she had studied had been built without mortar.
She pulled back from her examination to stare into the darkness preceding the faint blue glow. Gone were all thoughts of Toy, Daryus, Raffan, or even her own expedition. Here was something solid, something real. Taking a deep breath—and instantly regretting it—Shiera held the torch before her and stepped forward.
The walls abruptly glowed.
It was the same pale illumination she had noticed before, but now the source of that illumination revealed itself. Embedded in both walls—walls that were no longer carved blocks but now part of some natural cavern—were rows of small, triangular stones from which emanated the blue light. Thanks to both the stones and her torch, Shiera could see more of the former lining the walls. Simultaneously, she noted the glow in the distance fading farther away.
As she continued on, those stones nearest to her glowed brightest, while those just ahead and behind glowed only faintly, trailing off into darkness after a short distance in either direction. So the stones guided one’s walk, then conserved whatever magical power they contained by returning to a dormant state.
That, of course, begged the question … who made the stones far ahead stir to life?
She had to assume that it was Toy, but, if so, she wondered why the weasel continued down this ancient path. It also seemed odd that the ancients would have designed the illuminated path so that a creature as small as Toy would cause it to function. That would mean that every rat that raced down the corridor would cause it to light.
Pushing on, she watched the glow shrink. If it was Toy, he had to be running at a breakneck pace. Indeed, barely a breath later, the last vestiges of the distant illumination faded away.
You’d better turn back, came a voice in her head, one that oddly enough sounded a lot like Daryus’s. Shiera pushed aside the warning. It made no sense to turn back; she would end up with nothing. This ancient passage promised so much more.
Shiera picked up her pace. She still did not see any end to the corridor, but assumed that it could not go on much longer. To her relief, the stench had either faded much or her nose had simply gotten used to it; whichever the case, it enabled her to breathe easier and thus push harder.
Shiera’s father and teachers—and pretty much everyone she had been supposed to listen to throughout her life—had always warned her of her tendency to charge into situations without enough consideration of the perils. Shiera generally thought of that as a positive trait in her calling, but as she continued on into the darkness, she began to wonder if maybe they had a point.
And then she beheld the ancient chamber at the end of the corridor.
The same stones that illuminated the corridor attempted to do so for what Shiera guessed to be an old altar room. As with the corridor, the walls were part of another natural chamber. Many of the light stones set into them were missing or had been pried off. Judging from the shattered debris on the floor, someone had clearly ransacked this chamber long ago.
Small wonder this place has been forgotten, she thought with some regret. Nothing but a bunch of rocks and broken—
Shiera stopped in her tracks as her last step caused a few stones to reveal the far wall. All her frustration faded away as she beheld what was now becoming a familiar symbol.
The one-eyed wolf peered to the side, where Shiera saw a combination of symbols she could already half read. With growing anticipation, Shiera stumbled over the ruins to the wall. The carvings had all been set at eye level, which enabled her not only to study them closely, but even to touch them. Shiera did so very gently. She did not want to add to nature’s—and humanity’s—relentless attack on the ancient display, but long ago Shiera had discovered that some artifacts did not give up all their secrets unless one came in contact with them.
Yet, even up close, the full message the ancients had set here escaped her. Shiera thought she understood what they intended to convey, but the most important part remained agonizingly absent from her understanding. The symbols didn’t match up. They should have been turned differently. The meaning they currently presented made no sense.
She touched the most offending symbol, wondering if perhaps part of it had been broken off by either time or vandals. Instead, to her horror, the piece tumbled out of the wall. She let the torch drop as she grabbed for it.
But horror changed to astonishment, which then changed to triumph. Shiera eyed both the piece and the wall, where in the gap another symbol had been carved—a symbol that, read together with both the wall and the fallen part, revealed the full meaning. It was a unique manner of writing, and one she doubted most would be able to translate without having a physical representation.
More important than that, though, was just what she was now able to read. The entire wall made sense. Even the artifacts made more sense.
Shiera knew just where to find Uhl-Adanar.
* * *
Toy peered back at the underground chamber where Shiera stood. He had no doubt that she stood mesmerized before the carvings. He also had no doubt that she would decipher them even fa
ster than his former master had when they had visited this place long ago. Back then, Toy had not yet suffered the agony of having one eye magically wrenched from its socket and replaced. Back then, Toy believed he had been aiding a master whom their benefactor could trust.
The weasel’s nose twitched. He smelled other creatures down here, creatures Grigor had wisely avoided. Toy assumed the Pathfinder was competent enough to do the same. If she did, then she would use the knowledge here to help him find the witch. If she did not … then Toy had other avenues by which to hunt down his treacherous master.
Sniggering, the familiar ran off to deal with the next step in his plans.
9
HARRICKA MORN
Daryus exhaled with some relief. He had managed to evade the notice of the crusaders, especially the one who would certainly recognize him. It had meant leaving Shiera to her own devices, but the flight had been necessary.
You were a fool to come here! he chided himself. But then, you have always been a fool …
His fingers went to the one scar. Unbidden came the images, this time in a more cohesive arrangement. The marching crusaders, Daryus among them. The slaughter of the pitborn foes, a great victory. The purging of the demonspawn.
The frightened faces. The swords coming down.
“Somethin’ else you want?”
He stirred. The moment Daryus had been certain he had avoided the patrol, he had quickly found a place for his party. The same establishment was already taking care of the animals as well. It had not been Daryus’s first choice, but it had been the most convenient one he felt could be trusted with their supplies and animals.
Shaking his head, he paid the man and quickly stepped back outside. It had only been a short time since he had left Shiera, which meant he should be able to find her quickly. For all he knew, she would still be where he had left her.
However, it didn’t take long for Daryus to see that he had assumed wrong. There was no hint of Shiera, nor even the direction she might have gone. Raffan and the mercenaries were also nowhere to be found.
Pathfinder Tales--Reaper's Eye Page 8