by Kit Hallows
“We were worried you’d keep looking,” Samuel said. He gave me a kind, yet firm smile.
I nodded and did my best to keep my irritation to myself. We made a good team, but Samuel and Astrid were tight and sometimes their connection left me feeling like a bit of an outsider. I understood it; from what I’d gleaned they’d worked and traveled together for years and known each other even longer. The thing that bothered me was the feeling that they didn’t fully trust me. No, not me, a part of me… my dark other.
“Wait,” Samuel held up a hand as he turned to go down another passage. The entrance surrounding the tunnel was carved with ancient symbols and I was about to take a closer look when I spotted a figure lying in the middle of the floor.
Astrid pulled a dagger and approached the body slowly, the orb of light in her other hand throwing thick shadows upon the walls. “Careful,” Samuel whispered as he notched an arrow and aimed at the fallen figure.
Astrid’s light illuminated the face nestled within the cowl of its crimson robes. The poor soul was so bruised and battered I couldn’t discern its age or gender, but two unmistakable pale pointed ears peeked out among its fair elven hair. As Astrid leaned in and reached for the clasp on the cloak, the dying elf convulsed and began to thrash upon the ground. I hurried over and as I drew closer, I could see it was a female and that a glass-like spell sealed her swollen, bloody lips. It was the same magic Lampton had used to silence us.
“What’s going on?” I whispered, as a cold, ominous shiver crept across my flesh.
“Misdirection-” Samuel buckled as an arrow shot out from behind us and pierced through his thigh. He cried out and brought his bow up as Astrid tossed the orb of light and hurled her dagger.
Figures spilled out of the shadows and blocked off the passage behind us. Aardglass and his band of mercenaries. At the front was the ratty faced man we’d first encountered in the cavern. He reloaded his crossbow, but before he could bring it up, an arrow sunk into his eye. He fell dead to the ground.
“Why are you doing this?” Astrid growled, as Samuel notched another arrow. I pulled my sword and wished I hadn’t left my gun behind.
“Why?” Aardglass shrugged. “Someone paid us more than you did.”
“Who?” Samuel demanded. The four mercenaries drew back into the shadows but the two women who covered Aardglass with their shields held their positions.
“What's it worth to you?” Aardglass raised his warhammer and stalked toward us. Samuel loosed an arrow, it was on target but the women raised their shields and blocked it.
I watched the thugs sidling through the gloom, the glint of their swords betraying their position as I strode to meet them. Two of the killers sprang from the murk, wielding short swords. They lunged at me. One of the blades glanced off my coat, the other off the rock wall as I ducked away.
“End!” The sword of intention blazed and flames licked across its steel. I swung it and the blade tore through the creep’s leather armor and chest. He glanced down and before he could look back at me, I thrust the blade through his heart.
The one behind gaped at his friend, his face wracked with fury and grief as he launched a frenzied attack. I pulled the sword from the dead man’s chest and used it to block each feverish swing. He threw a punch. It hit me hard. I shook my head to clear it, sidestepped the next attack and plunged the sword through him before he could turn. He slumped down and took his last breath.
I glanced back to the melee. Aardglass had emerged from his protectors and three more of his crew were dead on the ground, leaving just him and a woman. Samuel had fallen back and blood soaked his cloak where it clung to his thigh. His face was pale and drawn and he glanced woozily from me to the dead.
“Let’s finish this,” Aardglass roared raising his hammer as he charged at Astrid. She threw a dagger and rolled out the way. The knife handle jutted from Aardglass’s throat but he didn’t flinch and swung his hammer down, nearly pulverizing Astrid’s skull.
“Hey!” I called, trying to draw him away. He gave me a dismissive glance and stalked toward Astrid as she rushed to defend Samuel against the woman bearing down on him.
I lunged and took a swing at Aardglass but he parried the blow with the handle of his hammer and tried to ram the other end into my face. I ducked and was about to throw a punch at him when the woman rushed me and pinned me against the wall. We were so close I could see the tiny red veins in the whites of her eyes. She growled, snapped forward and tried to take a bite out of me with filed, pointed teeth. My head burned with pain as she forced it back into the rock.
It took all my strength to shove her away. I raised my sword to counter the course of her mace. Its fiery steel clashed with the spiked iron as Aardglass roared and his hammer shattered the stone in the wall where I’d stood.
“Fucking weakling!” the woman snarled, and she launched a fevered attack, swinging her mace in a mad frenzy. I blocked each blow, punched her hard below the chin as she stumbled toward me and thrust the sword through her midriff. She fell to her knees and stared at me with stoic derision as she died.
“No!” Aardglass roared.
Fuck.
I rolled across the ground as his hammer struck and sparked amid the dust. I thrust my sword toward his chest. The blade slid, glancing off his hide armor as he drew back for his next assault. I ducked as the hammer arced down, narrowly avoiding having my skull smashed in while I dodged past and turned to raise my blade. His leathery chest plate creaked and the heavy strips of dark braided leather that bound it down the back flexed like a spine as he heaved the hammer off the cavern floor. It began to twist as he turned. Sever I whispered as I brought my blade down and slashed through the thick seam.
Aardglass whirled around as his armor fell to the stony floor. His hammer caught me in the chest. My coat took most of the blow, but I collapsed winded and could only look up as he raised his hammer over his head. He was about to bring it down when a dagger sunk to its hilt in his cheek and his eyes rolled as he tottered forward. I rolled away as the hammer fell, and drove my sword through his heart. He toppled over with a mighty whumph.
I turned to find Samuel sitting with his back to a wall, his face pale. Astrid checked the elf. “She’s dead,” she said as she reached into her cloak and pulled out a small pouch. She took a pinch of herbs that shimmered amid an ethereal emerald green nimbus. “You’ll have to chew them neat,” she told Samuel as she handed them to him. His face turned grim as began to eat them and glanced at his wounded leg.
“How bad it is it?” I asked.
“Hurts like a bastard,” Samuel said, “but the bolt’s passed clean through. So it could have been worse. Unless they poisoned it. I imagine we’ll find out soon enough.” He chuckled, then flinched as Astrid wrapped his leg with a dark, ridged cloth bandage.
Once she was done, Astrid climbed to her feet and gazed down the ill-lit passage ahead. “We’re nearly there. The bandage will buy us a little time, but we’ll need to get you some proper help for this one.”
“Whiskey too,” Samuel added. I helped him to his feet, and he leaned on my shoulder as we slowly walked down the tunnel, the passage behind us silent and still.
26
Our progress through the tunnels was slow. Samuel cracked jokes, attempting to make things feel less dire but he was clearly rattled and in pain. Astrid helped him down flight after flight of time-worn stairways while I took the lead, sword in hand. We inched past luminescent green fungus and the thick silvery webs festooning the ancient stone walls. At the bottom, in the heart of the deeps, a tunnel stretched out leading toward two forks in the gloom.
“Wait.” Astrid pulled a crumpled map from her pocket and studied it by the light of the fungus. “It’s this way. We’re almost there.”
We continued on until Astrid held her hand up and examined the rock walls. She took a step back and glanced at us before whispering words of power. The wall rumbled and an opening appeared. The short rocky corridor on the other side led to a
cavern illuminated by electric blue witch fire.
“Come on,” Astrid said. The passage was wide enough for us to walk together and support Samuel between us. We paused while Astrid muttered an incantation and the passage behind us vanished with a heavy thunk.
“This isn’t quite what they promised. Others have been here.” Samuel cast an orb of light into the air and it bobbed above us as we leaned down to examine the floor.
The dust was littered with footprints. Boots, small shoes, hoof marks. Men, women and children had been here, as well as demons. “How many people know about this place?” I asked.
“I have no idea,” Astrid said, “but clearly it’s been used recently. Which isn’t good.”
We were about to continue when Samuel held up a finger. “Wait!” He turned to me. “Can I see your sword for a minute?” I handed it over and watched as he used it like a cane. He limped along, then paused. “There!” he pointed to the rock face with the sword. It took a moment to see the tiny beam of rose-red light running from one wall to another. “If you will, Astrid,” Samuel said, as he hobbled back and used my shoulder for support once more.
Astrid threw a dagger. It flew straight and true, hitting the wall where one end of the beam vanished into the rock.
Boom!
A flash of black fire burst before us, its flames cold and familiar. Tiny stones and dust fell from above and an aftershock ran through the ground. If we’d been within the blast radius we would have been consumed.
“Wow. Well spotted,” I said.
“I thought so,” Samuel agreed.
We eyed the rest of the corridor, watching for traps as we headed for the opening to the chamber. The lofty space beyond was almost perfectly round and three standing torches, blazing with witch fire, threw eerie blue light across the floor. At the center of the room, a tall freestanding granite arch framed a sheet of black glass that shimmered like moonlight upon a nocturnal tide.
I stooped before the odd, rune-like symbols etched into the stone. More than a few had been gouged away, and it looked as if whoever had destroyed them had done so recently. The glyphs that remained were alien, yet strangely familiar, and I knew my other had seen them before and that he had once known their meaning.
Astrid stood beside me, gently drawing her hand across the portal’s surface, before withdrawing it. “I can’t believe this,” she said, her voice quiet, as if speaking to herself.
“What’s wrong?” Samuel asked as he lit his pipe with the witch fire.
“It’s…” Astrid shook her head, “broken.”
“What?” Samuel’s voice was loud and shrill. I saw his crestfallen face, and all the pain he’d been hiding from us. “It can’t be!” He limped to the portal and placed his hand upon it. “It can’t be!”
We stood in silence, and then I spoke. “What now?”
“We ascend. There’s nothing for us in the deeps,” Astrid said, “We’ll have to head back and try to find a way into the blinkered world. Samuel needs help. If I knew who sabotaged your mirror…”
“Perhaps it was the same person who destroyed this,” I suggested as I nodded toward the arch.
“It might well have been,” Astrid agreed.
“And what happens when we get back to the blinkered world?”
“Once Samuel is seen to, we’ll have to locate another portal. Preferably one leading directly from your world to ours because if there’s another one in the Hinterlands, I’ve not heard of it.”
“Stroud’s traveled directly to our world twice that I know of” I said. “Surely if he can make a direct gateway, we can?”
“Maybe,” Astrid said, “but we’d need help. Someone very powerful. None of us are at Stroud’s level. The only other way would be the one Elsbeth tried.” She shook her head. “I’m sure none of us are willing to take that route.”
“Is that the only way?”
“No,” Samuel replied, “but like Astrid said, we're not exactly mages, and anyone who might be practicing the arts is hardly likely to be forthcoming. Knowledge of portals is forbidden in most places, and limited to just a few. And even then…” Samuel’s words tailed off as he glanced above the portal to the shadowy ceiling. I followed his gaze to where something round and white gleamed. “What the hell is that?” Samuel asked. He sent his orb of light up and it hovered above us, illuminating what looked like an eye stalk attached to the rock by red-raw goo.
The eye withdrew as I reached toward it. “What the-”
“We’re being spied on,” Astrid said, “this place is a trap.” She pulled a dagger from her belt. With a flick of her wrist it shot through the air and sunk into the eyeball. There was a sickening pop and then the thing fell to the ground with a wet slap. Astrid retrieved the blade and turned to say something when she suddenly stopped and cocked her head.
I glanced toward the tunnel leading to the hidden wall. I heard it too. A din of footsteps.
Lots of footsteps.
27
“That doesn’t sound good,” Samuel said, as he threw his hand up toward the nearest torch and dowsed its witch fire with a sharp command. He scooted back against the wall, laid his quiver on the floor, and notched an arrow in his bowstring.
Astrid swore as she pulled a dagger from her belt and hid on one side of the cavern entrance. “Take cover,” she called to me. I ducked behind the arch and pulled the sword of intention. Fire burned bright along the blade, but I wished I had my gun too. The approaching footsteps were loud and many.
The opening in the wall at the end of the corridor rumbled open. I glanced out from behind the portal and spotted men and women clad in leather armor with weapons raised. Among them lurked tall, hulking silhouettes with dimly glowing eyes. They began to march into the tunnel, led by a sinewy man with greasy hair and a savage face.
He shook his spear and gave a nervous growl as he entered the chamber.
Astrid’s knives whirred in a silvery blur and the man fell. A moment later the woman behind him dropped too. Astrid ducked away as Samuel sent an arrow into the next assailant, bringing him down.
The rest of the band fell back, their voices muffled as they hastily conferred. And then they charged.
Astrid cut the first down before he got into the chamber and Samuel shot the next. I readied myself to run out and face the mob about to spill into the room. Taking a deep breath, I pressed my hand against the cool stone. An odd numbness shot up my arm and burning orange light glowed within the alien runes that lined the archway as the mirror-like glass began to shimmer. “What does this mean?” I called to Samuel as he loosed an arrow.
He glanced my way and shook his head. “The Gods only know. But whatever you’re doing, keep it up!” He drew back another arrow and let it fly while the din of clashing steel clattered from the tunnel.
I forced the urgency of the melee from my mind, placed a hand on the glass and concentrated. It quaked under my palm and the surface grew warm, softening, then it felt almost as if it was dripping away like ice melting between my fingers.
As I closed my eyes and focused harder, the din of combat faded, leaving me in an eerie, ghostly silence.
The portal materialized as vividly as a dream and unknowable details came with it. A conscious understanding of more recent events enveloped me. I saw the hands that had sullied the threshold, some human, some demonic. Then the many dark beings that had recently passed through it flooded my mind. Demons. Many, many demons, eyes and teeth gleaming with devilish excitement. After them, mages leading restless.
Then, I caught sight of the woman who had remained behind to cast the spell of sabotage and after, defaced the runes. I could see every stark detail of the mage in her winter years. One eye cruel and jaded, the other a bloody hollow from where she’d plucked it out and embedded it in the chamber wall so she could watch from afar.
The latent magic within me was undoing her destructive deeds. The magic my other wielded with such ease. Yes, he was the one reopening the portal she’d collapsed
.
Work with me, fool…
His voice snapped me to attention. How? I demanded.
Your stolen scraps of magic. Use them, now!
I did as he commanded, summoning the power still lurking within me. Almost instantly the wicked strength I’d drawn from my enemies swirled up from my core and singed my fingers as it streamed into the glass. Gradually, the curse that had been placed over the portal began to fade and the surface glowed vivid and bright.
I opened my eyes.
The stone arch was ablaze with a shimmering, eerie green glow. A terrible fatigue overwhelmed me, I’d been almost entirely drained of something I needed as much as my own blood. Magic. The stark clatter and yowl of combat filled my ears as I glanced around the corner of the arch to find the fight still raging. Samuel’s quiver was almost empty and Astrid began to falter as she continued to engage the mob of attackers.
“It’s open!” I called as adrenaline shot through me. “At least I think it is.”
Samuel glanced back and nodded. “Astrid!”
I ran to her side, hacking and slashing the horde with the sword of intention. “Go through!” I called as I parried the club arcing toward my skull.
“Okay. But you better be right behind us!” Astrid called.
I shoved a stocky, wild-eyed man aside and turned back to see Astrid dragging Samuel toward the portal. The glass shimmered and flashed as she pushed him through, then a jet-like rumble shook the chamber. I backed toward the portal and turned as another booming flash split the air. The ground rumbled under my feet. Astrid was gone.
When I looked back to the mob, the mage stood before me. “Stand down!” she called. Slowly, her minions obeyed, lowering their weapons as she fixed her eye on me, and nodded toward the archway. “How did you do it?” she demanded.