Where indeed, Sarn closed his eyes, shuttering their glow and reached for his map unsurprised to find it blank. Ran leaned against his leg shivering in the sudden darkness, and he laid a hand on his son’s head to reassure him. Had they escaped one danger only to climb into another?
Letting his senses stray from his side, Sarn waited, but they sent back no information. He gave up on invisibility and opened his eyes. But as their emerald glow increased, so did the chamber—not helpful. This cavern was parked inside a mountain, so there were walls. Fate only knew where though. Why me? Why today? With a shake of the head, Sarn shelved those nonproductive thoughts for after he’d escaped.
“Why’s it so dark?” Ran gripped Sarn’s pant leg and tugged on it.
“Because there’s no lumir here.” Sarn clamped a hand to his waist to prevent his trousers from slipping.
“Why?”
Indeed, why? The Litherians had an obsession for that luminous stone. Lumir striped every level because the mountain had rich deposits of it everywhere except here. There must be a reason for the lack, but was it germane to their current circumstance?
“I don’t know.” And the not knowing was driving Sarn crazy. Every hour added more ill-fitting pieces to an already complicated puzzle. But he never gave up, so he picked a direction.
“Can we do it again?”
“Do what?” Sarn glanced at his son. Had the boy lost his mind?
“The climbing part—I liked it.” A smile tugged at Ran’s lips but slid away as the darkness pressed in around them, contracting the green nimbus cast by Sarn’s eyes.
Was it getting darker in here? Sarn pivoted to check, but it was hard to tell. The amount of light his eyes put out varied in intensity depending on the magic’s whims, not his. “Another time maybe.”
“You promise?”
Sarn sighed. “Sure, someday we’ll do it again.” Though the next time, there’d be sunshine too. His son deserved that.
“Food now?”
“Yeah as soon as I figure out where the hell we are.” Sarn triggered his mental map, but the damned thing was busy sketching in what little information he had about this cavern. Sarn bit off a curse. What was the point in having magic if half the time it ignored him?
He took his son’s hand and led Ran away from the trapdoor. Best if they put some distance between them and their former captors. He could feel them coming, but they were still some distance away.
“Come on let’s walk a bit and see where this ramp goes.”
Ran followed, but the darkness oppressed him. “Can I have a light? I won’t drop it.”
Sarn heard the quaver in his son’s voice and removed his pendant. The crystal had been a gift, and it had lit many dark places before his eyes had taken up their glow. As Sarn held the finger-long crystal up, it threw a radiant white net around his son. Ran relaxed.
A niggling feeling he’d missed something yesterday worked its way free as Sarn stared at the pendant. One of the rarest types of lumir, it could only be given from one bearer to the next. All other types of lumir could be bought or stolen, but not the one dangling from his hand. With nearly all the wood in Shayari enchanted against fire, lumir was the light source of choice.
Everyone carried nuggets of it. Lumir was so ubiquitous, no one would bother stealing it. So why had he sensed no lumir at either murder site yesterday? That lack bothered Sarn. It meant something.
Ran’s eager fingers reached for the pendant swinging above his head. So too did a disembodied hand as the ghost boy tried to manifest. Spectral parts popped into existence and drifted toward the ghost’s torso. Each time a limb rejoined, a shadow scythed through the connection, breaking it.
Sarn gaped at the ghost. It was at the heart of everything that had gone wrong in the last day and a half. How could he even begin to put this right?
Stretching up on his toes, Ran snatched the pendant. As its leather thong slid through Sarn’s fingers, nausea walloped him, and he folded around his heaving stomach.
Ran held up the crystal, and its white light flared, driving away the shadow knifing the ghost to pieces. Shocked at the sight, Ran backpedaled and collided with Sarn’s legs.
The ghost boy fixed grateful eyes on them, then it too vanished. Maybe it wanted to pull itself together in private.
“What was it?”
“I don't know, but I will find out.” After they got out of there, of course. Sarn took his son's hand and froze. Five lumir crystals headed this way in the hands of the five men he’d fought before. Sarn bit off a curse and hurried in the opposite direction.
At his side, Ran turned the pendant in his hands, fingering the grooves carved into its widest face. Sarn braced himself for a barrage of questions but Ran stayed quiet, and his sudden quietude unnerved Sarn. His son was a talker, like his brother.
No doubt their predicament preyed on his son's mind. It was his fault. Sarn ground his teeth in frustration and fought the urge to douse the pendant’s light. Ran needed its comforting glow.
How could he help a ghost when he struggled to safeguard his own son? The question pursued Sarn as he sought a way out of the endless cavern
“What is that? Why’s it glowing?” Ran pointed to the sunlight knifing through the dark.
And it was a welcome sight. Relief made Sarn giddy and laughter fizzed just under the surface. “We finally found a wall which makes that a door.” With luck, it was their exit.
Was it extending brilliant hands? Sarn rubbed his eyes, but the image refused to fade.
“It’s for going outside?” Ran ventured, sounding hopeful.
Sarn nodded distracted by the luminous white filaments extending from his body. They drank in the sunlight and his gut cramped with hunger. For a moment, everything grayed. Sarn leaned into the wall as the world rocked around him.
What magic was this? It wasn’t the rock-loving green one lighting up his eyes. What magic was white? Before everything blackened, the filaments receded, and he stopped his floor-ward slide.
“Papa?” Ran tugged his pant leg until he received a response.
“I’m—okay—”
Sarn ruffled his son’s hair, distracting the boy for a heartbeat. Scowling, Ran finger-combed his locks back into their preferred state of disorder.
“Can we go out that door?”
“Maybe,” Sarn played the glow of his eyes over it but found no handle or hasp. He put his shoulder to the door and pushed, but it refused to budge. “It’s locked from the other side. We have to find another way out.” Could he pick the lock from the reverse side with his magic? Sarn's head hurt just thinking about it.
“I know you’re up here. There’s no escape from this level. Come out and talk to me,” Dirk shouted ending Sarn’s internal debate. “We won’t harm you or your son. I swear it.”
Only a fool would believe that. “Give me the pendant.” Sarn held out his hand.
After a moment’s hesitation, Ran handed it over. Sarn settled the pendant under his tunic again, and the light cut off leaving them bathed in the green glow of his eyes until he closed them. Ran clung to him, scared of the dark.
Crouching down behind a stalagmite, Sarn pulled his shivering son into a one-armed embrace. “I'll get us out of here,” Sarn whispered to his son who nodded. “Just be silent as sleeping stone.” An image of thirteen rock piles broke across the sullen green star poking at his closed eyes then faded, leaving Sarn shaken. What had he just seen—a memory or a magic-born hallucination? And why did everything come in sets of thirteen?
“Come out and talk to me.”
Hell no, Sarn tightened his arm around his son. He still had a fix on Dirk and his men. The fools never should have let him touch them. He had maybe five minutes before they converged on this location.
Update—demanded his magic as it pushed against his clothes.
Sarn yearned for the cold touch of stone and the deep well of information flowing through in it—no. If he gave in, he’d black out and leave his son v
ulnerable. Sarn held tight to his son until the urge to strip off his clothes and embrace the stalagmite hiding them abated.
Ran stood on tiptoe and whispered into Sarn’s good ear. “What now?”
“We find a way out of here.” Before he lost control of the magic. Hunger tended to erode his concentration making his mind malleable to the magic’s manipulation.
Sarn rubbed his aching head then resumed studying his map. It didn’t line up properly with the levels above since the mountain tapered and his exact location was still hazy. Ran laid his head on Sarn’s thigh, and he stroked the boy’s greasy locks with his free hand. Where had Dirk and his friends come from? If he could find where they entered, he could leave the same way.
Distant chatter startled Sarn. Lowering his hood, he put his good ear to the wall and concentrated. How could he hear the door wardens from here? They should be on the other side of the mountain. Magic trickled out of his ear and crawled up the wall, dragging his consciousness with it until he jerked his head away breaking the connection.
“What’s this?”
“What is what?” Sarn cracked his eyes open and played a thin beam of green light over his son’s fingers. Under them, a square block sunk into the wall.
“What did you do?”
Ran shrugged and backed away as a section of the wall swung in. Sarn’ smiled as he opened his eyes all the way and their emerald glow revealed a staircase twisting into darkness—of course. The Litherians were a race of paranoid misanthropes. They had hidden all manner of rooms, traps, tunnels and staircases all over the mountain.
Sarn patted Ran on the back. “Good job, you found an exit.”
“No more stairs. Now, I’ll never eat.” Ran kicked the bottom step then squeaked as a rat darted past.
It was the spy from earlier. Was it heading toward its mistress?
“No more rats.” Ran fixed scared eyes on Sarn and clutched his pants when he started up the stairs in pursuit.
Those tiny hands stopped Sarn. Ran wasn’t growing up on the streets like he had. “I’m sorry, but we have to go.” Sarn waved to the stairs. “The rats won’t hurt us, but those men will.”
Dirk chose that moment to comment. “Not true, we just want to talk to you.”
And sell him into slavery, no thank you—Sarn’s hands tightened into fists. Indentured servitude was better. At least it offered the promise of freedom when his debt was paid.
A warning flashed on Sarn’s map, and he turned in time to deflect a punch with his forearm. These guys were so predictable.
“Papa!”
“Go! Run up the stairs. I’ll be right behind you.”
A fist slammed into Sarn’s side sending him crashing into the stairwell. Magic softened his landing, saving him from a concussion. He sprawled across six steps willing his frozen son to move. His body only blocked half of the staircase leaving plenty of room for Dirk to climb past him.
“Leave my son alone.” Sarn seized Dirk’s ankle and twisted it, bringing the man down.
“Get out of my way! I’ll grab the little imp!” shouted one of Dirk’s men, the widest one, what’s his name. Sarn recognized the voice as he latched onto Dirk’s waist and yanked the man down and away.
Dirk strained to reach Ran, but the boy ducked around a bend in the stairway, and his hands closed on air. Sarn rolled, pulling Dirk under him.
On top now, Sarn punched Dirk. “You lied.”
“Not about hurting the boy. For god’s sake, he’s Beku’s son.” And sincerity might have softened Dirk’s eyes for a second before their situation registered. Dirk smiled and went for the jugular. But Sarn had expected that, so he fended off the chokehold with a well-placed elbow.
An arm wrapped around Sarn’s throat from behind and squeezed, reminding him there were four more combatants. Not again, this was the third time this move had caught him unawares in the last forty-eight hours. With his luck, it was Villar reprising his earlier role. Thank Fate none of the Rangers were here to see this, or he’d be the laughing stock of their order.
Dirk punched Sarn, and he saw stars for a moment. Long enough to lose his chokehold on the magic. Green light clawed at his eyes and his skin seeking to escape. Instead of accepting its help, Sarn kicked Dirk and bones crunched. He couldn’t see where his foot had landed because his vision had contracted to a hairy arm choking him.
Ran screamed, and his terror paused the fight. Sarn got his feet under him and slammed the back of his head into his choker. Pain radiated out from the blow, and he staggered when his dazed captor released him. Tripping over legs, Sarn landed on the stairs beside Dirk, who gripped his broken arm.
Ran screamed again and his terror shredded Sarn, leaving no room for speech, only action. Before the strange détente ended, he crabbed toward his son, dividing his attention between what was above and the men below. Magic leaked out of his hands and charged up the stairs like an army of glowing green ants. Finding his son, they wrapped a shield around the shuddering boy, and some of his magic continued past Ran, seeking the source of his son’s fear. Information punched Sarn, and the world grayed out as he pulled his son into his arms and lay there too dizzy to move.
Rats poured down the stairs and over his body. Each little foot was a caress. Ran screamed and cried into his chest, but Sarn was with the magic, flowing ever upwards through the channels the Litherians had made heading toward—
“Papa?”
Sarn blinked, and his awareness receded until it stopped at his skin. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. We’re okay. Look what the rats did.” Ran pointed but Sarn had to lever himself up to see. He laughed at the five men screaming and swatting at the rats climbing their bodies.
“You were right.”
Thirteen rats broke off their attack and blurred as they converged on the threshold, revealing Rat Woman. Wiry hair framed a doughy, unfinished face. She looked like a clumsy child’s attempt at doll making, not a living, breathing being. Clad in a cloak stitched together from rat skins, she stood there staring with those mirrored eyes. And they weren’t empty. A spark of personality fired and caught in their silver depths before she turned.
“Thank you.” Ran waved to her.
“Why did you help us?” Sarn struggled to his feet and swayed when the world took a step to the right without him. He leaned into the wall enclosing the stairwell. Thirteen rats had formed her. That could not be a coincidence. Somehow, she was part of this.
But the lipless woman remained silent as she touched the wall and the secret panel closed off the stairwell.
“Who are you?” Sarn asked of the blank wall separating them.
“She helped us.”
“I know. I just wish I knew why she helped us and why she spied on us.” And a great many other things too disturbing to mention to his son. Sarn pulled himself together, and he blinked as his map appeared. A yellow arrow pointed at a welcome spot—the Middle Kitchen. All he had to do was climb one hundred twenty steps. Thank Fate for small miracles.
“When did she spy on us?”
Sarn waved the question away. When didn’t matter but why did. Was this Rat Woman an ally? How did she fit into the general weirdness of the last day and a half? None of it made any sense, and he needed to fix that soon.
“I’m hungry.”
“I know. I still owe you breakfast.”
“We’ll get breakfast now?”
“Yes, but you have to climb for it.”
Ran’s shoulders slumped. “I hate stairs.”
“You and me both. Come on. Stairs are good for you. They’ll give you strong legs.”
“Mama said that about milk.”
Sarn fought a smile. “Yes, they both do.”
Unconvinced, Ran kicked the step again.
“Look you wanted to climb some more—” Sarn gestured to the stairs.
“No, I want to climb nets, not stairs. Nets are fun. Stairs are boring.” Ran folded his arms over his chest and scowled.
“S
tairs are all I’ve got. Come on.”
Resigned, Ran mounted the stairs, and Sarn followed. Every step away from here unraveled the secrecy protecting his son, and that was unacceptable. Sarn’s hands curled into fists at his sides. He refused to lose the boy who gave his life meaning. Dirk had better keep his mouth shut.
Chapter 16
“Food now,” Ran pounded a fist against Sarn’s bicep as the bells tolled thirteen times.
Damn, lunch time had come and gone, and they still needed breakfast. Ran had a legitimate gripe and breakfast might help him figure out what to do about the ghost, the murders, corrupted enchantments, killer trees, spying vermin, strange symbols, Rat Woman—had he left anything out? Sarn sighed. The mystery kept growing the longer it went unsolved, and he still had no idea what to do about it. If things would stop chasing him, maybe he could figure out an answer.
In the silence after the bells finished dooming him, Sarn's stomach growled. He set his son down and teetered as the world grayed out. Instead of fading to black, the grayness took on human proportions and approached him. Sarn blinked at Shade, whose mask symbol flashed on the translucent map hanging in front of his face.
Sarn pressed a shoulder into the nearest wall. Litherians had carved heroes doing all manner of heroic things in high relief right on this spot. Why couldn’t one of them peel themselves off the wall and lend a hand? Instead, lots of protrusions poked into his arm as Sarn let the mountain hold him up. His head felt like it might float away without the rest of him—not a good sign.
Shade regarded Sarn with concerned eyes. "Are you okay?"
Sarn nodded and pushed off the wall. Enough with the delays, it was time he fetched something to eat before another crisis dropped into his lap. Or had a new problem arrived wearing Shade’s cloak and cowl? He eyed Shade. What did his friend want?
No one sought him out for company anymore not since his best friend had discovered angels’ dust. Well almost no one, Sarn amended as Ran tugged on his pant leg again. Sarn grabbed the belt cinching his too-wide pants around his lean hips. And he made sure it did its job despite the forty pounds of unhappy child yanking on it.
Curse Breaker: Books 1-4 Page 22