“Come on!” Grimwarden shouted, spurring the slaves on. “FASTER!”
The wave of baby Warspiders was now almost even with the last few rows of slaves. “I wish Johnny was here,” said Goldarrow. “Hey, Charlie! Where are you going?”
But Charlie didn’t respond. He ran to the back of the line and started using the flat of his shield to smash the tiny little buggers, hundreds at a time.
“Oh, Ellos, help us!” cried Goldarrow. She and Grimwarden were shoving slaves now, the time growing short. They had seconds, not minutes. She looked back at Charlie. He was batting the spiders away like flies.
“That’s the last of them!” Grimwarden yelled. “CHARLIE!”
Charlie acknowledged him with a nod, then turned and ran to meet them. He produced the prepared arc stone and struck it across the rim of his shield. The thing sparked to life. Charlie followed Grimwarden and Goldarrow into the tunnel, and underhanded the arc stone onto the ceiling. It stuck as expected, and again, Charlie counted to himself, gritting his teeth against the pain of the spider bites. He turned around to see a dark wave of arachnids climbing the walls, pouring into the corridor like a tidal wave. “GET READY!”
A flash of light.
A deafening blast of air.
Charlie catapulted forward, colliding into Grimwarden and Goldarrow, who also shot down the tunnel.
Rocks slammed into them, dust filled their lungs. Then darkness.
Grimwarden’s ears were ringing. A good sign. At least he was alive. Other than an ache in his back and his head, he felt intact. No major bleeding. And surprisingly, no broken bones. He opened his eyes and tried to sit up. Rubble scrapped together all around him. Someone coughed to his right. “Goldarrow?”
Grimwarden crawled over to her and helped her up. “You all right?”
“If you can cure me of this infernal ringing in my ears, I think I’ll be fine.”
“Guess I may have used a little too much,” came Charlie’s voice from a heap of stones.
“Charlie!” cried Goldarrow. “You’re alive!”
“Is that what this is called?” He grunted and pressed himself up, covered from head to foot in white dust.
The three of them laughed. But Charlie, facing back the way they had come, stopped laughing. He pointed a finger. “Look . . .”
Grimwarden and Goldarrow turned. With torches in hand, as well as weapons they’d picked up from somewhere farther down the hall, the slaves were returning to thank their rescuers. Only they weren’t slaves anymore. Just people.
38
Lessons from the Past
EXPLOSIONS LIT the courtyard just as Tommy was shutting the door. The six young lords careened down a corridor the map said would bring them eventually to a great hall with a wide staircase up into a long corridor to another spiral staircase, and at last into the Spider King’s center of military operations—his Plotting Chamber.
They stopped in the shadows at the first cross passage to wait for Johnny. It seemed that the battle outside was spilling over within the walls of Vesper Crag. To their left, Gwar and Drefids raced up the hall, recklessly slinging weapons and staring straight ahead. They didn’t even notice the intruders as they ran by.
“Thanks for waiting,” Johnny said, skidding to a halt beside his friends.
“You take care of those stinkin’ trees?” Jett asked.
“Only ashes left,” Johnny said.
“Good work,” said Tommy. “Those explosions you, too?”
Johnny shook his head. “I wish,” he said. “No, it’s getting crazy out there. I think our flet soldiers have taken part of the wall, and the battle has come to this side. Soldiers running everywhere. I barely made it here. But the explosions? I dunno, I’m guessing the Gnomes had something to do with it.”
“I’m really starting to love those guys,” said Kat.
Another stream of Gwar soldiers stampeded by. The Seven pressed their backs against the wall. “We canna’ stay here,” said Jimmy.
“Right,” Tommy replied. “Come on. We need to find that wide staircase.”
“Then what?” asked Jett.
“We fight our way up,” said Tommy.
“Thought you might say that.” Jett cracked his knuckles.
After passing two similar cross passages, they saw a wide opening up ahead. The main stairs rose up from the center floor, dividing a vast hall with a high ceiling, great columns, and arches. The walls were overhung with black and red flags and tapestries depicting battles and events of the past.
“I didn’t realize it would be so . . . so open like this,” said Kat. “How are we going to get to those stairs without bringing every available enemy in Vesper Crag down on top of us?”
“C’mon,” said Jett. “We’re the Seven, right?”
Johnny couldn’t help but grin. Jett’s good-natured enthusiasm was contagious. They were the Seven Lords of Berinfell and that did mean something. If the only way was through that massive hall, then so be it.
“Together?” Johnny whispered and held out his hand.
Their hands joined his. “Together,” they said.
“Head for the longer flags and tapestries. We can hide behind them,” Tommy said.
The lords began to move when Jimmy whispered, “Wait!” He held his arm back to signal the other lords to flatten against the wall. “Not yet.”
What looked like a battalion of Gwar soldiers, flanked by Drefids on their red Warspiders, marched down the wide stairs and across the central floor. Another explosion—this one close by—cast a flickering, bloody orange light on the entire hall. The hall turned to chaos, Gwar soldiers loping this way and that, some with weapons drawn, others carrying crates and barrels. A Warspider, frightened by the explosion, broke its tether. It killed one Gwar and stabbed another with its foreleg before they netted it and put it down.
“The war band is leaving the building,” said Tommy. “We’re not going to have a better time. Follow me, but be ready to fight.”
Taking a breath as if for a deep, uncertain plunge, each of the Seven fled into the hall. Passing the lip of the passage out into that open air made them feel as if a great spotlight shone down on them. They raced from spot to spot, hiding wherever they could for a few seconds at a time and then sprinting. Then they came to a sticky point. They were hidden well for the moment behind a stack of crates. But if anyone came, or worse moved a crate, they would be caught. “Beneath the stairs,” Tommy whispered. “But we’ll need to knock that tapestry down to cover the opening. Kiri Lee, just before we duck under the stairs air walk and drop that tapestry.
“Kiri Lee?” Tommy turned to look at her, worried. She’s exhausted and not listening. “The tapestry?”
“Oh,” she said softly. “Yes, I’ll get it.”
“Okay,” whispered Tommy. “We go . . . now.”
The Seven slipped out from behind the crates and raced over to the stairs. Kiri Lee was the first into the hiding spot. Tommy ducked in. “Kiri Lee, you didn’t knock down the tapestry.”
“So tired,” she said, slumping against the stone behind her.
Tommy left her there for a moment. “Jett,” he said. “Toss Jimmy up there to knock that down.”
“You got it,” Jett replied, and in a moment their hiding place was covered.
Gulping air, they waited in the shadows. Tommy, using his telescopic sight, scanned the area they’d just traversed. Squads of eight Gwar soldiers ran back and forth across his field of view. But it was the same chaotic activity from before—just troops trying to account for the throes of battle, not enemy sentries changing their location, looking for spies.
Tommy could see through the pillars that there were enormous open windows on the west side. Lightning flashed, illuminating a surreal scene upon the outer walls: untold numbers of combatants teeming atop the parapets and rooftops, a thousand fires burning, arc stones rising and falling, and still more than a few raptors and Warflies wheeling about in dogfights. A reddish glow to the north t
old the story that the volcano continued to blaze. And the entire scene was through a veil of falling ash.
“Unbelievable,” Tommy whispered.
“What?” asked Jett.
“The battle out there.” Tommy paused. “I can see tens of thousands out there . . . so many.”
“We weren’t seen,” asked Johnny, “by anyone?”
“No one’s coming,” Tommy said. “Jimmy, you getting anything?”
“Nothin’. I wish I could turn it on and off at will like Kat’s thought reading or Johnny’s fire.”
“Ah, man, don’t sweat it,” whispered Jett. “It comes when you need it, like a life preserver.”
“Ah, what an idiot,” Tommy muttered under his breath.
“Hey,” said Autumn. “He was just trying to help.”
“No, not Jett. ME. I messed us up royally.”
“What is it?” asked Kat. But she knew before she’d even finished the question.
“I’ve got us hidden under the stairs,” Tommy muttered. “From here we can’t see who or what’s on the stairs.”
“Oh,” said Autumn. “That was pretty dumb.”
“Thanks,” said Tommy.
“But it’s not a big deal,” Autumn reassured him. “I’ll be back in a flash. Just be ready.”
“Autumn?” Johnny’s question fell on empty space.
“We need to wait,” Autumn said, appearing next to them once more. “Looks like a Warspider resupply out there right now.”
The speedy Elf went out and back five times, and each time there was too much traffic on the stairs.
“It’s got to clear up soon,” said Jett. “This is killing me.”
“We can’t wait until it’s totally clear,” said Johnny. “It’ll never be totally clear.”
“Right,” said Tommy. “But we don’t want to charge out there into a brigade of Gwar, either.”
“I hate waitin’,” Jimmy agreed. “Don’t you, Kiri Lee?”
“Sometimes it is necessary,” she replied.
“Yeah . . . yeah . . . isn’t that the truth?” It wasn’t exactly the support from Kiri Lee he had been looking for.
“Okay,” Tommy said, “Autumn, you be ready to try again. We need to stay sharp. Remember, we get up the stairs as fast as we can. Take out anything that crosses our path, and make sure not one of them sounds a horn or we’re done.”
“From there,” said Jimmy, thinking aloud, “through the big arched opening and take a long, straight shot past six gates.”
“Right,” said Tommy. “Then we should see the spiral stairs.”
“Okay, Tommy,” Kat said. “We know, we know. Just let Autumn go.”
Tommy shook his head. “Sorry, I just don’t want to screw up again. Go ahead, Autumn.”
This was it. All their hearts were racing, adrenaline pumping. The fact that they had even infiltrated the enemy’s lair was cause enough for panic; but now that they were burrowing deeper into the stronghold, each one of them knew there was no going back from here.
Autumn darted out of their hiding spot and returned moments later. “Now!”
The young lords poured out and into the open once more, raced around the corner, up the stairs, and smacked into the back of a Gwar soldier. He was armored head to foot, but before he could turn around, Jimmy had clambered up his back and put a dagger in his neck to silence him. Jimmy did a backflip off the falling creature and landed on his feet.
But the Gwar had not been alone.
Tommy and Jett charged around the dead Gwar and came face-to-face with two Drefids. The creatures hesitated a moment, leering at the Elves who had the nerve to enter their inner sanctum. Tommy used the uncertain moment to nock an arrow. Jett swung a blow with his hammer that would have knocked a bull elephant unconscious. But the Drefids were swift. High in the air they leaped, extending their claws and shrieking. Jett’s stroke missed entirely, and he fell off balance. One of the Drefids gashed Jett’s shoulder, and bright red blood spilled down his leather plate armor.
Tommy fired an arrow straight up at the other Drefid, but the creature timed it perfectly and slashed the shaft out of the air. The Drefid landed behind Tommy, but when he drew back his claw to stab Tommy in the back, he felt two cold hands grab his head. But the hands did not stay cold.
A sudden flash of fire, a horrid smell of burnt hair, and Johnny let the Drefid fall away. Having seen his comrade’s unpleasant death, the other Drefid leaped off the stairs and began to run. If he escaped, he’d surely reveal their location.
Tommy’s first arrow hit the Drefid between the shoulder blades, sending the creature sprawling onto the marble floor. Tommy’s next two arrows stilled the creature.
“Come on!” yelled Kat. The damage had been done. Enemy soldiers converged on the fallen Drefids, looked to the stairs, and began the chase.
The Seven fled under the high arch and into a long passage. “Johnny!” Tommy cried out. “Give us a little breathing room!”
Johnny stopped, spun around, and unleashed a powerful flame that adhered to the archway and created a raining curtain of liquid fire. For good measure, Johnny blasted forty yards of the floor behind them as well. He turned, but the others were well ahead. Only one thing to do, he thought. He hated to lose another pair of boots, but it couldn’t be helped.
White fire burst from his feet, flash-melting the soles of the boots before launching them altogether off his feet. Johnny used the flame from his hands to balance himself vertically while he propelled himself forward with his feet.
He caught up in no time and found Jimmy warning the team of what to expect as they passed each of the upcoming passageways.
“Spiders coming from the left!” he yelled, and the young lords raced to the right side of the hall.
“Gwar on the right, JETT!”
Jett charged ahead and bludgeoned the unsuspecting Gwar as it took its first step into the hall.
Between Johnny’s fire behind and Jimmy’s foresight ahead, the Seven had gained time on any pursuit. At last, Tommy saw the entrance to the spiral stairs ahead. He led the team, three steps at a time, up the stairwell, then through an archway, turning into a chamber well lit with torches and a massive candle chandelier.
Johnny cut off his fire and warily followed his friends inside. It was a deep room, but not very wide. Maps made of some kind of leathered skin adorned the walls, recording graphically the advances and tactics of battles old and relatively new. Wide pillars held up the domed ceiling overhead. And littered beneath it were tables strewn with maps, carved pawns, and drawing tools. This had to be the Spider King’s war room. There was only one problem.
“Where is he?” asked Jett, examining a map streaked with red.
“I don’t know,” said Tommy.
“I did not see this coming,” said Jimmy.
“Where did Regis say we should check next?” asked Johnny.
“The throne room,” said Tommy. “It’s up one floor from—”
“I rarely spend time in the throne room,” came a voice from somewhere in the back of the long room.
The young lords found themselves bunching up protectively. They’d never heard his voice, but they were sure it was him. Yet where was he? Was there a false panel in the back of the room? Weapons ready, they edged toward the voice.
“Thrones are for bloated despots who speak often, but rule little. I prefer this room,” he went on, his voice clear and penetrating. “This is a place of action and reaction, where one can study the past and learn from it. Do you like it?”
“Jimmy,” Tommy whispered. “Where is he? What’s his move?”
“I-I’m not seeing things clearly,” Jimmy replied. “Somethin’ is messed up.”
“Well, do you?” came the voice once more.
The young lords had almost reached the back wall. Tommy’s eyes ricocheted from map to map. “No!” Tommy blurted out at last. “I don’t like this room at all.”
An abbreviated laugh. Still no sign of him. Just the
voice. “Surely you comprehend the importance of learning from the past?”
“Jimmy!” Tommy whispered more urgently behind him. But to buy more time, he raised his voice: “The only past to learn from here is enslaving, conquering, and killing.”
“And you’ve come to my realm then . . . for tea?”
“It’s not workin’ right,” Jimmy whispered, stepping up beside Tommy. “I tell yu, it canna’ be.”
Kat spoke into Tommy’s mind. “I’m reading Jimmy’s thoughts, and Jimmy’s right. It’s like thinking a nightmare that keeps changing. I don’t know—”
“All out of tea,” said the Spider King, his voice louder or thicker somehow. “But I feel I should give you something in return for the gift you sent to me.”
There was movement in the back of the room, something passing through the wall. But that’s impossible. Ready with his bow, Tommy waited.
“So . . . as my gift to you, I grant you freedom. Freedom from the hideous life you have here, freedom to enter whatever place your Ellos sends you . . . when—you—die.”
Tommy’s reflexes jerked at the sight of a tall Gwar emerging the rest of the way from the wall. The young lord released an arrow, but changed his aim at the last second. The arrow passed through where Tommy thought the wall should have been. It stuck solidly in the center of a map that was ten yards farther back than it appeared. The back of the room . . . it’s an illusion! The Spider King stepped out from a camouflaged anteroom. Tommy felt his heart turn to ice. The Spider King was not alone.
39
A Hard Choice
THE SPIDER King held Kiri Lee almost directly in front of him like a living shield, but her skin was a ghastly greenish color and her face was blank. Tommy couldn’t speak, but his mind whirled. But Kiri Lee is—
“Yes, you gave her to me,” said the Spider King. “She is full of venom, dying as the poison attacks her vital organs. But just to be sure—” He took out a dagger with a strange serpentine blade more than eight inches long. He rammed it into Kiri Lee’s back.
“Only this time, Hamandar,” said the Spider King, his voice agitated, rushed, “you will not heal her. For trying to heal the Wisp drained you of some of your power, and now you won’t have time or power to heal yourself and her.”
Venom and Song Page 38