Nine by Night: A Multi-Author Urban Fantasy Bundle of Kickass Heroines, Adventure, & Magic

by SM Reine

  Unfortunately, every set of eyes in the room turned toward me, including the Spartan’s. I said the only Ancient Greek words that came to mind. “Ō ksein’, angellein Lakedaimoniois hoti tēide keimetha, tois keinōn rhēmasi peithomenoi.”

  The man stared at me, making me doubt my pronunciation. Though it was probably more the randomness of the quotation.

  “What’d you say?” Simon whispered.

  “The epithet carved in the stone at Thermopylae,” I whispered back.

  “What? Why?”

  “It’s the only thing from that time period I have memorized, all right?” Of course, I had no idea if this fellow was from that time period. I wasn’t such an expert on the clothing and weapons that I could do more than pin him to about a four-hundred-year range.

  “What’s it mean?” Simon asked.

  “Go tell the Spartans, stranger passing by, that here obedient to their laws we lie.”

  “Oh, yeah, I’m sure he’ll find that comforting.”

  “Sh, it’s a beautiful example of an elegiac couplet from Ancient Greece.” Beautiful example or not, Simon was right. My statement had been out of context and would mean nothing to the Spartan. “I can do better with pen and paper,” I told Eleriss. “It’s like Latin—nobody has spoken it for a long time.”

  Simon shrugged off his backpack and unzipped it.

  “You have pen and paper?” I asked. He was the last person I expected to have something so archaic.

  “Better.” He smiled and held up his tablet, then pulled up the notes app.

  I pointed at the digital keyboard. “The English alphabet isn’t going to be a big help here.”

  “Oh, right.” He switched to a drawing app. “How’s this?”

  While I was fussing with the program, wondering how someone who had yet to leave something legible on an electronic signature pad was going to draw Ancient Greek letters with her finger, Jakatra said something that sounded derogatory and strode toward the hoplite with his sword. The Spartan dropped back into his fighting crouch and angled the spear toward Jakatra’s chest. Jakatra stopped and spewed out a line of indecipherable words. The Spartan’s face never changed expression.

  “Let us wait to approach him until we are certain he understands,” Eleriss said.

  “He understands,” Jakatra said. “He must. He is only pretending otherwise.”

  “We cannot be certain.”

  Jakatra pointed at the control panel. “What does his record say? How long was he with our people?”

  Eleriss tapped a few spots on the wall. “Four years. That is long enough that one would expect him to have grasped the language. But we do not know how he was used. Perhaps a deliberate choice was made not to educate him.”

  While they were talking, I was writing, but I was listening too. “Why was he taken?” I asked, still trying to figure out what all these people were doing down here.

  Without answering, Jakatra walked over and stared down at the tablet. “Tell him we need him to hold this sword to see if it responds to him.”

  “I thought I’d start with his name,” I said.

  “Woman, the jibtab hunts us. There is no time for pleasantries.”

  If Jakatra wasn’t going to answer my questions, I saw no reason to chat with him. Tablet in hand, I headed for the Spartan.

  “Careful, Del,” Simon said, trailing at my heels. “Don’t get too close.”

  I waved him back. “He won’t see a woman as a threat.”

  Of course, if he was truly a criminal, he might not care whether I was a threat or not. I could feel my heart thudding in my chest as I approached. The Spartan noticed me, but his attention remained on Jakatra. I waved him back too. He didn’t move until Eleriss said a word. Jakatra stalked back to the tunnel entrance. It’d been a while since we’d seen the creature; I hoped it had been significantly injured in the battle and had fled back to wherever it had come from. Somehow I doubted we’d be that lucky.

  Finally, with Jakatra across the chamber and Eleriss without a visible weapon, the Spartan lowered his spear and faced me. He kept the shield up.

  I stopped a couple of paces away and held up the tablet. I read the words aloud, though I was hoping he could read, because I was more certain of my writing than my pronunciation. “My name is Delia. My grandmother was born in Athens. We are thousands of miles from there. I do not know how you came to be here; these people will explain nothing to me. They want something from you. Do you understand? What is your name?”

  He listened to my full speech and followed along on the tablet—I had to turn to a new “page” three times—though I couldn’t tell what he understood, if anything. Finally he responded.

  “Alektryon.”

  I grinned at this communication, however basic. For all I knew, he’d only understood the last question, but I wouldn’t bet on it. The word laconic came from the old word for Sparta—Lacedaemon.

  He—Alektryon—asked something then. I only caught a word of it. “Time.”

  I wrote on the pad again, then held it up and asked, “Can you write your words? My Greek is much different from yours. Many generations have passed.” I hoped he didn’t ask about the stasis chambers, as Simon had called them, because I had no idea how they worked.

  Alektryon had watched my finger make the words, but he didn’t reach for the tablet. I didn’t know if it was because he was stunned by the technology or if he didn’t want to release his weapons. Some of both, perhaps.

  He uttered a short phrase that I got the gist of: “How long?”

  I almost asked him what year it’d been the last time he’d checked, but it’d been a long time since I looked at an Ancient Greek calendar. “What was happening in Sparta when you were... there last? Significant events,” I added, afraid he’d tell me about a friend’s victory at the Olympics or some skirmish with the helots.

  His lips flattened. “Thermopylae.”

  “Oh.” My random choice hadn’t been so pointless after all. “About twenty-six hundred years then.”

  He blinked slowly, looking me up and down. I supposed jeans and a T-shirt didn’t look all that futuristic—I’d certainly expect something more interesting if I were zapped forward a couple thousand years in time. His gaze lingered on the tablet. Yeah, a computer might make the story more believable. Overall, he was surprisingly calm about the revelation. I wondered what he’d seen in that four years he’d been with Eleriss’s people—and what they’d done to him. I supposed it was early to make judgments, but he didn’t strike me as some criminal. Murder, Eleriss had said. But in what context? As a soldier, he would have been expected to fight to the death to defend his homeland.

  Alektryon said something else that I struggled with, and I smiled and held up the tablet hopefully.

  He shook his head once and said a single word. “Enemies.” He looked at Jakatra and Eleriss, then back to me, a question on his face, one that seemed to ask, “Why are you with them?”

  Before I could scribble out an answer, a deep groan sounded in the distance. I remembered the creature pushing over stone columns to destroy the stasis chambers. What might it be up to now?

  “The jibtab,” Eleriss said.

  “We’re out of time.” Jakatra stepped forward again. “Tell him to try the sword. If it doesn’t respond to him, this has all been a waste of time. I’ll have to kill the jibtab.”

  The Spartan’s spear came up again.

  “He’s not going to let you near him without a fight,” I said. “Here, why don’t you hand me the sword, and I’ll hand it to him?”

  Jakatra glowered thoughtfully at me—what, did he think I intended to steal it? Well, I had been enthused by his gold coins. In the end, he flipped it and approached, the hilt extended toward me.

  I wrapped my hand around it, surprised by the cool satiny texture of the overwrap. It sure wasn’t leather. At the same time, it managed to have a porous quality, and I imagined it absorbed sweat efficiently. Before I could further examine the weapon
, the glow faded and went out completely.

  “Thus an unspoken question is answered,” Eleriss said.

  “There is nothing about her to suggest shared blood,” Jakatra said.

  “There were far fewer humans on Earth in those days. Some have suggested that all modern people here may share blood.”

  “An unappealing thought. Regardless, their generations pass quickly. By this time, it would be too diluted to matter.”

  “Uhm,” Simon said, “what are we talking about?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m not sure whether it’s better when they’re talking in their language or not,” I said. My curiosity wanted to hear anything they would share, but I couldn’t let go of my earlier thought that if they were letting us hear all this, maybe they didn’t intend for us to leave this cavern.

  “Give him the sword,” Jakatra ordered.

  I turned it as he’d done, careful not to touch the edge—I didn’t have to peer close to see how sharp it was—, and extended the hilt toward Alektryon. He leaned the spear against the wall—he still hadn’t left his alcove—and grasped it. For a few seconds, nothing happened, then the blade started to glow. It was a faint glow compared to the luminous emission the sword had given off in Jakatra’s hand, but it was more than I’d gotten.

  Alektryon wasn’t watching the glow—he was considering Jakatra, or perhaps considering that his “enemy” no longer carried a weapon. Calculation glittered in his dark eyes. I stepped back a couple of paces, not wanting to get in the way if he decided to try something. I wouldn’t be sad to see Jakatra disappear, but I remembered his inhuman speed and didn’t know if the sword by itself would provide enough of an advantage for Alektryon to best him. Jakatra was watching him right back, and his stance seemed to say, “Come on, kid. Try me.”

  Alektryon considered the confines of his alcove again, and his face grew bleak. He must believe he risked being locked up for another eternity if his attack failed. He flipped the weapon in his grip and tossed it to Jakatra who caught it with one hand.

  Alektryon said something in his own language, but I struggled to translate it. I held up the tablet again, hoping he’d be willing to try writing on it. Sure, the technology would be bizarre to him, but all he had to do was drag his finger around on the screen.

  He considered it for a moment, glanced at Jakatra again, then stared into my eyes. Did he think I was trying to distract him so the others could attack or catch him off guard for some nefarious purpose? I returned his gaze and hoped I looked trustworthy. His eyes were wary, but there was more than that in their depths. Pain? Sorrow? Had he already decided he believed me and parsed what I’d said? Did he realize that everything and everyone he’d known was gone?

  He broke eye contact, and I blinked a few times, feeling oddly like I’d lost something. Alektryon checked on Jakatra and Eleriss again, then took the pad. The screen had turned off, and I eased forward to push the button to bring it back to life again. Behind me, Simon shuffled uneasily. Alektryon didn’t do anything though, not until I stepped back. Then he drew letters on the pad and held it up, as he’d seen me do.

  “I will not be your slave again,” I translated.

  “We do not wish to be your masters,” Eleriss said, then apparently realizing he wasn’t using a tongue the Spartan could know, spoke in his own language.

  Guessing it to be a repeat of what he’d said in English, I tried to make note of the words and what they meant.

  Eleriss continued on. I harumphed in frustration because he wasn’t bothering with an English translation. Alektryon was listening to him, though he continued to give no indication as to whether he understood or not. Eleriss gave his comrade an exasperated look.

  “Let us leave this place to discuss it further,” Jakatra said. “If we act swiftly, perhaps we can find a way to trap the jibtab down here.”

  Another groan came from the depths of the cavern.

  “Or it’s going to trap us down here,” Temi said. She’d left the wall to join Simon and me. She addressed me: “I’m sure you’re finding this all fascinating, but we should leave if they’ll let us.”

  I thought there might be condemnation in her words—did she think I’d spent too much time talking to the Spartan when we were in danger down here?—but perhaps not. Perhaps simply some plain wisdom. Those noises were ominous.

  I was on the verge of asking Simon if he’d found anything useful in the bigger alcove, but a tremor coursed through the stone beneath our feet. The lighting I’d been taking for granted flickered and went out. Though Jakatra’s sword still glowed in his grip, the contrast was distinct, with most of the chamber thrust into shadows. I snatched the flashlight from my belt, but I’d no more than flipped the switch when the overhead lamp came back on.

  “I’m ready to leave now too,” Simon announced. “Any charitable elves want to burn a hole up to the surface?”

  Eleriss and Jakatra weren’t paying attention. They were staring at the last alcove. It was empty.

  I turned three hundred and sixty degrees, searching for Alektryon. He’d disappeared with all of his weapons.

  My shoulders drooped.

  “He took my tablet?” Simon protested.

  A thunderous crack sounded above our heads. A portion of the ceiling caved in, and a waterfall gushed into our chamber.

  CHAPTER 27

  The lamp disappeared in the flow, and darkness crushed the chamber. By the light of the glowing sword, we saw the hundreds of gallons of water pouring into the chamber, but that light didn’t last long. The deluge crashed in right on top of Jakatra’s head. As fast as he was, he couldn’t avoid the gush. I scrambled toward the alcoves, thinking to grab onto the solid support columns, but not before seeing him swept from his feet and into the flow. I thought I heard a clang over the roar of the water, but I wasn’t certain until the light of his sword disappeared. He’d let go. Or it’d been torn from his hands by the power of the surge. Either way, we were plunged into darkness.

  “Jakatra!” Eleriss cried, followed by words in his own language.

  “Temi? Simon?” I yelled as soon as I’d gotten a grip on one of the columns. The damp stone wasn’t as reassuring as I’d hoped—its girth was too great for me to lock my arms around, and the exterior wasn’t as rough as I’d guessed, so it offered few handholds.

  “Up here,” Temi called back, her voice barely audible over the roaring water.

  “Simon?”

  “Here, but—” His words were cut off in a gargled choking.

  I fumbled at my belt for the flashlight. The chamber was filling fast, with the water already creeping up to my thighs. We’d need to climb back up to the other alcove room—it was at a higher elevation—but I had to round everyone up first.

  I swept my flashlight beam toward Simon, glad we’d shelled out the bucks for waterproof tools. He’d been swept halfway through the chamber, toward the pool at the back end. The pool’s borders had been buried beneath the deluge, and now water covered most of the chamber. Simon was clinging to the bottom of a stalactite, his legs stretched out behind him, the water threatening to carry him away. Away where, I didn’t know, but a strong current sucked at my legs.

  A second beam of light joined mine—Temi’s. She’d also found a column, hers at the first alcove. The water only reached her knees.

  “We need to go in that direction,” I called to Simon and pointed at her.

  “No problem,” he sputtered, “if you’ll just turn off the faucet...”

  I patted my belt, relieved to find the bullwhip hadn’t been torn away by the encroaching water. “Give me a second. I have an idea.”

  “Jakatra!” Eleriss called again, panic in his voice. It was the first time I’d heard concern or any intense emotion at all from him. Even when the creature had been attacking Jakatra, he’d remained calm.

  He produced a light of his own, his beam thinner than ours and brighter, as if he had the sun harnessed in whatever tool he was using. It hardly mattered. All i
t showed was the chamber filling up. Jakatra was gone, sucked down into some drainage hole at the base of that pool.

  “I have to go after him,” Eleriss called, speaking to me. “You need to find the sword. It’s the only tool left on this world that can fight the jibtab and those that will come after.”

  Ugh, did I look like I was in charge? Why?

  He kept looking at me, waiting for an answer.

  “I’m not sure where it went down, but I’ll try to find it.” All those years on swim team had to be good for something. I hoped.

  Eleriss nodded once, then let go of his perch. The water immediately swept him toward the far wall, then pulled him under. I had no idea where it was taking him—to some underground reservoir with no oxygen for all I knew—or if I’d ever see him again.

  A concern for later.

  The water had climbed to my waist, and Simon was still trying to improve his hold on the stalactite.

  “Here, catch the end.” I loosed the whip, hoping the popper would reach him.

  A good notion in theory, but I wasn’t directly upstream from him, and the water swept the thong away from him as soon as it touched the surface. I tried again, this time trying to wrap the popper around the stalactite itself. The stone was too far away and too thick, and the whip nearly smacked Simon in the face, but he released his grip long enough to try and grab it.

  His other hand slipped and fell away from the stalactite. His head disappeared beneath the water.

  My breath hitched. I was about to uselessly shout his name, but then a weight on the other end of the whip almost pulled me out of the alcove. Only jamming my leg against the other column kept me from flowing out with the water. I feared I didn’t have the strength to wind Simon in, but his head popped above the surface. He gasped and started pulling himself up the whip, hand over hand.

  I kept my foot braced against one column and gripped the other with my free hand. The end of my flashlight was between my teeth. If not for Temi’s beam, I wouldn’t have been able to see a thing.

  It might have only taken Simon ten seconds to pull his way up to the alcove, but it seemed like minutes. Both my arm and leg were quaking, but I refused to think of letting go. With a great surge of energy, Simon hauled his body the last couple of feet and wedged himself into the corner of the alcove.