The Ravens of Death (Tsun-Tsun TzimTzum Book 4)

by Mike Truk

  “Wightlions,” said Brielle in annoyance. “I can’t believe he forgot to tell us about them till now.”

  I raised Shard so its brilliance caused the damp shelf of caramel rock to gleam. “No matter. I doubt they’ll last long if they try to bother us. Now, watch your step.”

  It was tempting as heck to just fly up, but again I resisted the urge, instead creeping to the edge of the platform, only to realize it was nothing so neat. There was a path that wound its way down in oblique switchbacks between what I’d thought of as massive Portobello caps, the ground subtly ridged and sloping down toward the outer edge. Slipping and falling here would be lethal - you’d simply go down over the edge, pick up speed, and hurtle ever faster over platform after platform.

  “Ropes,” I said. “Let’s tie ourselves together. If anyone slips, Neveah and I can anchor us by rising into the air.”

  We spent the next few minutes binding ourselves together, then I took point, Neveah coming last. I led the way down the oblique path that the water took to the far wall; upon reaching it, I turned to follow the next organic switchback over the accumulated platforms, down past the stone mushroom gills that dropped like drapes from the ledge just above us.

  It was slow, treacherous going. The damp rock wasn’t as slippery as it looked, the sediment adding a gritty texture to the rock that gave our boots purchase, but the very idea of slipping and sliding out over the edge made us go slowly, mostly because it was so easy to imagine.

  Down we went; the farther we descended, the steeper the path became, as if time had yet to build up these lower depths. Some of the drapes extended a hundred yards from the edge of the platforms, interrupted here and there by smaller shelves of gleaming stone. There was no helpful rope here, no iron poles driven into the rock. The temptation to use Manipura grew ever stronger until it was actively pressing.

  Still I led the way on foot, occasionally dropping to move down a particularly steep section in a controlled slide. The path itself began to break down, great gaps appearing in it now; the platforms became ever more distinct, forcing us to take ever more treacherous jumps.

  The idea of being ambushed by Wightlions kept us on edge. Brielle especially became jumpy, jerking around to stare at shadows, blazing blade raised to strike at enemies that failed to materialize.

  “Aren’t we awfully exposed?” asked Emma, voice hushed. “I mean, our lights must be visible to everyone below and above us.”

  “True,” I said, working my way carefully to the very edge of a drooping platform to stare disconsolately at the next platform five yards below us. “But we’d see their lights too.”

  “Unless they can see in the dark,” she said.

  “In which case, we’d be fucked anyways. Hold on. I’m going to drop down.”

  “Why don’t you fly at this point? I mean, surely this warrants a little magic?”

  “Not if I can avoid it.” I untied myself from the rope since there wasn’t enough slack for me to drop without dragging Emma after me. With great care, Shard clutched tightly in my fist, I slid over the smooth edge to drop to the next platform.

  The wall beside me, the delicate folds of rock that descended in great vertical undulations, exploded outward as I hit the platform below, and a huge clawed horror lurched near.

  “Wightlion!” I shouted, startled and shoving away from the ledge to fly into the darkness. Snapping lobster claws, massive as wheelbarrows, clacked at where I’d been but a split second below. I slashed Shard at the monster, and for a moment saw a leathery beast, all heavy plates of carapace, small head, multifaceted eyes, huge mandibles around a small, bubbling mouth, the stuff of nightmares, hunched over before my arc of golden light cut it in two.

  I wasn’t the only one being attacked. The ambush had been coordinated. Screams sounded from above, rocks raining down over me. I fled straight up, Shard at the ready, only to see Emma slip out over the edge, falling toward me.

  I caught her in both arms, but not before she jerked Imogen off her feet. With a tight, short scream she slipped over the edge as well, and in doing so yanked Brielle back; the Wightlion she faced snatched her burning blade from her fist and hurled it into the night.

  I didn’t have the wherewithal to track the blade’s descent, but instead strained to rise as Imogen’s weight dragged Brielle off the ledge as well.

  Neveah was facing off against two Wightlions and making short work of them, but Little Meow was the next to go, dragged off the ledge to plummet down after Brielle.

  The rope attaching her to Neveah went taut, but the raven-haired warrior simply lifted in flight as she swept Morghothilim through one Wightlion. The second bowled forward, curving forward into a carapaced ball like a massive louse, and rolled right past her to plunge over the ledge. Dropping down into the void, it opened to crash atop Brielle.

  She screamed as its pinchers snagged at her, but I decapitated it with a tight flare of golden light before it could do much damage.

  More were boiling out from the cliffside, each heralded by an explosion of blinding rock, bursting forth, claws clacking. In moments Neveah was faced by four of them, which she destroyed with a hurled mass of writhing shadow fire, but more scuttled forward to take their place.

  “Down!” I barked. “Let’s get the fuck out of here!”

  Neveah met my gaze and gave a curt nod, and together we descended into the gloom. Avoiding the platforms altogether, we dropped ever faster down the length of the Flowstone Stairs toward their bottom.

  It rapidly became apparent that we’d have to resort to flight sooner than later anyway - the platforms became ever more separated, the drops between them ever more treacherous. At last, we were skimming down alongside vast folds of rock - huge, wavering curtains of stone whose depths were lost to shadow.

  “There!” said Emma, gazing below us. “What’s that?”

  I followed her eyes, and saw a soft emerald glow manifest below us in the gloom. It grew rapidly brighter until it took on the shape of a river, cut off on either end, where it no doubt flowed underground and out of sight.

  It was beautiful. Stunningly so, the light refulgent and soft, soothing and tranquil, as if glimpsed in the moments before one awakes from a dream. Languid and glassine, the surface was perfectly still, mirror-smooth and reflecting in perfect detail the great swathes of caramel rock that descended, and in places, penetrated its emerald surface.

  This perfection was shattered a moment later as the first rocks we’d dislodged came crashing down to plunge into that stillness. They sent up gouts of water and huge eddies that rocked across the river’s surface, sending the reflections dancing and wavering.

  “That’s… stunning,” I heard Brielle whisper, her fright lost to the grandeur of the vision. As we lowered down to the surface, I saw how the river extended into the rock, through a low-ceilinged tunnel whose surface was serrated with endless stalactites. They descended to the water’s surface, ribbed undersides illuminated by the water’s preternatural glow.

  “They’re not following,” said Neveah, who, of all of us, had kept her eye on the prize and watched for Wightlions descending in pursuit.

  “I don’t want to keep flying,” I said, aware of Manipura’s slow burn, how even with my Prisms activated I was going to be using up my reserves steadily. “Does it look shallow enough to wade in?”

  “I think it is,” said Brielle, who hung the lowest on the rope, her feet now almost touching the water. “Waist deep, perhaps.”

  “Right, we’ll lower you down carefully. Ready, Neveah?”

  Of course she was. We dipped down, and Brielle’s boots submerged in the water, then her legs.

  “Ah! Cold!”

  Down we went, the water creeping up her waist, then the rope sagged as she found purchase on the floor beneath the waters.

  We kept descending, and soon my boots entered the Starmilk. It was frigid, enervating cold, but I gritted my teeth and kept dropping, allowing the water to creep up my legs. Then with a jerk,
I dropped the last foot so the glacial water surged up past my crotch, and I couldn’t help it; I set Emma down and hopped back up, gasping, “Ooh! Cold!”

  One by one, the others found their footing, ripples spreading away from us. After Brielle recovered her blade, everyone had weapons in hand, and the light from Shard and Brielle’s lantern complemented the inherent luminescence of the river. For the first time since entering Tantaghrast, I felt like I could plainly see the world about me.

  “This is incredible,” said Emma, wading forward toward the tunnel into which the Starmilk flowed. There was a subtle current, invisible to the eye, slowly pulling us along, urging us to take one slow step after another.

  “Why’s it glowing?” asked Little Meow, cupping a handful of the water in her palm and studying it. “I mean, I can feel latent magic, but it’s very faint. From where does it come?”

  “Either the water is magic, or the sediment that trickles down the Stairs is,” replied Imogen, gazing about herself. “Impossible to say without tracking the river upstream.”

  “Which we’re not going to do,” said Brielle. “And why didn’t I think to ask C’toh if there were other predators beyond the Wightlions? Like… glowing emerald eels, or the like?”

  “It’s not as if we’re going to lower our guard,” said Neveah, wading forward to pass Emma and move to the tunnel entrance.

  Brielle made a face. “I mean, right, of course.”

  Together we moved forward, sloshing through the crystalline water and endlessly disturbing the river’s placidity. It was hard not to gape. The stalactites here were needle-thin, clustered by the hundreds and descending in clumps that showed no rhyme or reason. Occasionally a pitted expanse of the ceiling became visible - the natural cave ceiling - but mostly we passed under endless clusters of caramel daggers that looked far too much like waiting weapons for me to relax.

  “There,” said Neveah, pointing with Morghothilim. “Human remains.”

  We all stared, and there, beneath the undulating waters, I made out a skeleton clad in badly rusted chainmail. The skull stared vacuously up at us.

  “Another one over there,” said Neveah, peering ahead. “Make that a dozen.”

  “How can you tell?” asked Emma, rising to her tiptoes and staring down the tunnel.

  “Geomancy coupled with Sahaswara,” said Neveah, tone detached. “Allows me to scan ahead if I concentrate.”

  “And you didn’t notice the Wightlions?” asked Brielle.

  Neveah arched a brow. “They were behind living rock. I’d have to focus harder than a simple scan to pick them out.”

  “Hmmph,” said Brielle, pushing her crimson hair behind her shoulder. “Might be a good time for that kind of effort.”

  “Brielle,” said Emma.

  Neveah stared at Brielle a moment longer, expression inscrutable, then turned to continue leading us on.

  Soon enough we were treading past more skeletons. Most of them had been picked clean by the waters, bones gleaming, but a number looked disturbingly recent.

  “The emerald eel theory is gaining traction,” said Emma as we passed a body that could only be a week old. “Unfortunately.”

  “A moment,” said Neveah, and closed her eyes. “Nothing within my sensory radiance registers as living.”

  “Neat trick,” said Little Meow.

  “No kidding,” said Imogen. “I’d have to submerge and press my hand to the ground to get that kind of information. And how far out are you sensing, Neveah?”

  Neveah opened her eyes, glanced at Imogen, and resumed wading forward. “Pretty far.”

  “Pretty far.” Imogen adjusted her glasses. “That’s good to know.”

  “Bad news is,” continued Neveah, tone level, “the stalactites are going to drive us underwater up ahead.”

  “Wait, what?” Emma stopped abruptly. “Like, forcing us to swim underwater.”

  “Mmmhmm.”

  “How far are we going to have to swim?” I asked.

  “I’ll check again when we’re closer, but it seemed like a couple of hundred yards.”

  “Fuck C’toh,” said Brielle with furious intensity. “He didn’t think to mention that?”

  “Guess he figured we’d not be stopped so easily,” I said. “And I think he was right. We’ll get through.”

  Brielle resumed wading after me. “But how? Several hundred yards?”

  “We’ll see,” I said, and realized that I believed it. My resolve was rock solid. I didn’t care what we came up against.

  We’d get through it.

  After that we waded in silence, the water gradually growing deeper, until the stalactites descended to form a solid curtain before us, blocking further passage.

  Imogen stepped forward and put her hand to the stone. She closed her eyes, and after a moment grimaced, turning back to us. “A couple of hundred yards is right.”

  “I can’t swim that far underwater,” said Little Meow apologetically. “Unless there are pockets of air we can breathe from?”

  “They’ll be poisonous,” said Emma, tone flat with dejection. “Trapped air, no circulation, deep underground? You won’t want to breathe that stuff.”

  “We’ve got this,” I said. “Manipura will power us through. Neveah and I will fly everyone underwater to the next point.”

  Brielle raised an eyebrow skeptically. “That will work?”

  I grinned back at her. “One way to find out. Ready?”

  “Me?”

  “You.” I stepped in close. “You trust me?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then let's go.”

  Neveah extended a hand to Emma. “We’ll go together, so nobody is left alone on the far side.”

  “Why?” asked Emma. “You detect danger?”

  “No. But it’s a simple precaution.”

  “Oh god,” said Emma nervously, slipping into Neveah’s arms. “I hate this.”

  “Hyperventilate for a minute,” I said. “Really rapid, shallow breathing. Then when I nod to Neveah, take a deep breath, and we’ll both go through.”

  It was a testament to how nervous Brielle was that she didn’t bother questioning me about my orders. Instead, she joined the rest of us in quickly breathing, fast pants that started making me light-headed, until I judged we were ready.

  I nodded to Neveah, ducked underwater, and tapped Manipura.

  The black sun roared to life within my core, and to my delight, I powered forward, Brielle clutching me so hard I felt my ribs creak. Shard stabbed straight ahead, and we slid forward with ever greater speed, the soft green radiance of the river all around us. Countless stalactite stumps pushed down from above, forming a composite ceiling.

  I couldn’t tell how fast we were going and could barely make out the shadowed walls of the river’s banks. Neveah was powering along beside me, hair streaming behind her like an ebon war banner. There was no hint of our destination, no lightening of the water, no indication we were drawing close.

  Animal fear began to claw at me as my chest started to tighten. I slammed it down with the Vam, found perfect, martial poise, and with eyes narrowed put on more speed, cutting through the waters like a torpedo. The rushing thrum of water over my ears joining the pounding of my heart, the frigid waters numbing my skin.

  On and on we flew, and just as I was starting to panic, to think we’d not make it, we were attacked.

  It was huge. An undulating, sinuous shape, serpentine and swift, making its way toward us with frightening speed. A speed doubled by our approach.

  One moment we were flying forward into milky green radiance, the next a shadow was approaching - then it was upon us.

  I caught a hint of a dragon-like head, huge jaws, catfish-like tendrils extending from its skull like a mane, a maw opening to reveal curved, needle-like teeth -

  - then Neveah blasted it with shadow fire, peeling away a swathe of its head and several coils. Its frame melted as if it were made of delicate snow and she’d just dumped a bucket of
scalding water over it.

  The water clouded with brackish black blood, but the monster didn’t contort or lash out in death throes.

  Neveah had stone-cold killed it with one hit.

  We sped past, and I couldn’t help but marvel at the huge eel’s length and endless coils; then Neveah reached out, grasped me by the shoulder, and yanked me straight up.

  Our heads broke the water’s surface, and I inhaled raggedly, blinking away the water.

  We’d emerged into a massive amphitheater, a dome-like space above us. The caramel-hued walls shimmered and reflected the undulating slivers of light dancing across the thousands of stalactites that dropped toward us, turning the walls into more organic drapes of stone.

  But my attention was riveted by the scores of huge eels or snakes or whatever they were that our appearance had galvanized to life. They’d been resting on the ledges around the water, luxuriously coiled amongst themselves, but now were sliding forward. Their scales slithered and whispered as they speared down the sides of the cavern toward the emerald pool, eyes blazing, a frenzy of activity all around us.

  “Up!” barked Neveah, and together we flew into the air, erupting from the water just as the first eels surged to where we’d been, their movements wicked beneath the surface.

  Heart hammering, squeezing Brielle to my chest almost as hard as she was holding me, I turned in a circle. A primitive part of my soul quaked at having emerged into such a horrendous nest of massive snakes, the largest easily as long as a school bus, the shortest twice my length.

  Neveah didn’t waste any time. She started laying about her with blasts of magic, unleashing shadow flames and crackling levenbolts with what looked like abandon but was instead terrible precision.

  I joined in, sweeping Shard from side to side, lambasting the eels, shearing their huge coils in twain. In moments the pure light of the great pool dimmed, growing suffused with blood. Huge chunks of eel parts bobbed below us.

  It was a massacre, and took perhaps a minute. Toward the end, I let Neveah send a few carefully placed strikes into the now-opaque waters, killing the few snakes that had remained submerged.