The City Under the Mountain

by D. W. Hawkins

  Dark mutters erupted from the hillsides.

  Allisondra stalked around the circle, fixing each Sadiri with a challenging look. She turned her gaze to the crowd, throwing her hands wide and spinning in a circle. She flicked her sword to the side, tossing Gehenia’s blood over the dirt. The crowd responded with a roar of approval.

  Gehenia’s herd stood as silent as a forest of stones.

  “You are a fool, Gehenia!” Allisondra raised her voice over the noise of the crowd. “You wish to abandon the haidar? You think you are strong enough to rule?” Allisondra turned and fixed Gehenia’s herd with a contemptuous stare. “You honor-less dogs think you are worthy of power? The Blood rules for a reason! I will show you true power!”

  Allisondra turned and made a delicate gesture in Gehenia’s direction. Gehenia screamed as her body was jerked from the ground, moving like it had been grasped by an invisible hand. She rose high into the air, dripping a stream of blood from the wound in her belly. Gehenia tried to struggle, but there was nothing to fight. Her screams cut off with a gurgle as Allisondra made another gesture.

  Nalia’s blood went cold, and her Sworn Men shifted in their seats at the display. She had seen sorcery before, but she had never witnessed a sorcerer use their power against another person. She had never witnessed wild magic being used to harm.

  Gods in the Void, save me from that fate. Nalia looked to Gehenia’s face—a twisted grimace of pain—and felt a spike of sympathy for the savage woman.

  Don't shy from the fruits of your labor. This is your scheme. Marvel as the devastation unfolds.

  Nalia swallowed the sick feeling rising from her guts and forced herself to keep watching.

  Allisondra stalked across the circle in slow, graceful steps, advancing toward Gehenia’s personal retinue. Gehenia’s body followed her through the air, floating behind Allisondra as if she carried it on a kite string. Gehenia’s warriors screamed curses and pleas for mercy. The air grew tense, and Nalia could sense violence in the air.

  Allisondra stopped before Gehenia’s herd. “This is true power! This is the difference between you and the Blood! You wish deliverance from the haidar? If you want to be released from your duty to our people, then very well—I release you all!”

  The Maihdrim quirked a finger at Gehenia’s body. Gehenia sputtered another choked gasp as she moved through the air, hanging over the heads of her gathered warriors. Gehenia’s people went mad, screaming and raising their hands toward their doomed prophet.

  “You were never more than a nuisance, but now you have invited your doom!” Allisondra’s face was a mask of anger. “You dare to come here and demand a place at the circle?”

  Allisondra glanced at Nalia, looking her in the eyes for the barest second.

  “You are all rats,” she said, “begging to dine with vipers.”

  Allisondra made a fist and gestured to the side, and Gehenia’s neck twisted with an audible snap.

  The hillsides descended into chaos. Screams erupted from the rear of Gehenia’s herd, peppered with the sound of clashing steel. Allisondra made a disdainful motion with one of her hands and Gehenia’s lifeless body dropped into the crowd like a sack of grain. The warriors on both sides of Gehenia’s herd bared steel and hefted their spears.

  Allisondra made a chopping motion with her hand. The Mala’kii cut into the flanks of Gehenia’s herd with spear and sword. Arrows zinged through the air, fired from the opposing hillside. Steel clashed as the slaughter erupted.

  Yurian stepped in front of Nalia. “Shield wall!"

  Nalia pulled the dagger at her waist as her Sworn Men formed ranks around her. Hardin called out commands from somewhere behind, and Nalia could hear a clamor as her detachment of Red Swords snapped into battle formation.

  The shield wall turned out to be an unnecessary precaution. The violence was concentrated around Gehenia’s herd. Nalia’s men had to do little more than keep thrashing bodies at bay with their shields.

  Nalia took deep breaths and fought down the urge to vomit. Her skin crawled at the thought of Allisondra’s sorcery. How terrifying it must have been to hang in the air, helpless to oncoming death.

  This is a good thing. It’s a victory.

  With Gehenia out of the way, the Mala’kii would follow Allisondra’s lead and vote to join the Empire. Nalia would win her place on the Emperor’s staff and gain his personal respect as an added bonus. She would have an ally in Allisondra, though Nalia was unsure about the wisdom of joining herself to the savage sorceress.

  Am I the rat begging a meal, or the viper preparing to dine?

  ***

  D’Jenn crawled up the side of a building, his Kai singing in his mind.

  He pulled himself over the lip, grunting with the effort, and ran across the rooftop. Using Dormael’s floating spell, he jumped to the wall of a taller building. He stuck like a spider and climbed upward, his Kai humming with fatigue. By the time D’Jenn made it to the top, sweat was pouring down his face. He paused a moment to gulp air into his chest and wipe sweat from his brow.

  Keep moving, you fool. One surrender leads to another.

  D’Jenn hustled to the edge of the building and looked out over the city.

  The district nearest to the broken steel doors was lined with utilitarian structures—square things made of undecorated stone. The streets in that part of the city were straight and wide, which meant the Garthorin would cover them in little time. There was a natural point in the cavern that pinched off the gate district from the rest of the city, where the natural walls ran together before widening again. The horde would have to pass through the narrow section before heading deeper into the caves.

  D’Jenn surveyed the ground along the chokepoint and grimaced. The opening was wide, stretching across two avenues. The distance between the walls would weaken his intended spell and shorten its duration.

  It’s not as if you can stand in the path and ask the Garthorin to turn around.

  A weakened spell was better than nothing. D’Jenn took a running step and jumped, using Dormael’s floating spell to leap to the ground. Cursing the fatigue in his Kai, he sprinted in the direction of the chokepoint.

  The ether broiled with displeasure. To D’Jenn’s senses, there was a buzz just beneath the surface of the stone, like the whole cavern was charged with energy. Goosebumps erupted over D’Jenn’s skin as he ran past an unseen current of magic, but he didn’t have time to investigate.

  The whole bloody city is going to explode.

  D’Jenn reached the area between the pinched cavern walls and surveyed the ground. If anything, the place looked larger now that he was standing in its midst. His eyes went from one cavern wall to its counterpart on the opposite side, and he cursed at the distance between them. The calls of angry Garthorin echoed from the direction of the gate.

  Time’s wasting, D’Jenn. Let’s move, old boy!

  D’Jenn fumbled about his person, fingers running into pouches and pockets. He discarded a piece of chalk he kept in a small felt bag. A handful of steel bearings was also passed over, but his fingers paused as he grabbed a pouch of salt.

  D’Jenn heard another hunting cry from a Garthorin throat, this time close enough to echo against the buildings behind him. He cursed under his breath, running his other hand over his clothing until he felt the protrusions of the rubies he’d taken from Allen. Tugging them free, he looked between the gems and the bag of salt, solidifying the image of the spell-form in his mind. When the Garthorin howled again—closer this time—D’Jenn cursed and ran for the nearest cavern wall.

  By the time D’Jenn skidded to a halt in front of the wall, he’d already divided his consciousness. He held the rubies out in one hand and pulled the string on the bag of salt with his teeth, holding the pouch open with his opposite hand. He grasped one of the rubies in his Kai and pushed it against the wall, using another part of his mind to heat the stone beneath the crystal. When the rock became hot and pliable, D’Jenn used his magic to press the gem i
nto the wall.

  Tiny gouts of flame flared from the edges of the ruby as D’Jenn pressed it into the rock, but he pulled the heat from the stone as quickly as he dared, until the quartz cooled in its setting. He pictured the spell-form in his mind, a series of swirling lines and patterns to which his magic would respond, and visualized it against the backdrop of the stone around the ruby. Holding the image in his mind, D’Jenn held out his other hand and beckoned to the bag of salt.

  The white, powdery substance floated into the air, forming the rune as if the wind itself had shaped the salt to purpose. D’Jenn kept the image of the rune in his mind and used another part of his Kai to press the salt-formed glyph into the wall of the cavern. Crackling noises sounded as D’Jenn pressed the rune into the wall. Holding the salt to form with his magic, D’Jenn split his consciousness again and applied heat to the rune. Fire blossomed from the symbols as D’Jenn heated the salt, turning it to liquid and binding it together. When he was done, D’Jenn took a step back to survey his work.

  As he turned, he saw the first Garthorin coming in his direction.

  A spike of fear ran through D’Jenn’s body, which helped him summon the motivation to get his legs moving. There were no furious screams, nor answering howls. D’Jenn cast looks over his shoulder as he ran, checking to see if more Garthorin were going to arrive. The first one rounded a corner between two buildings and disappeared.

  It didn’t spot you. It won’t be long, though.

  D’Jenn reached the other cavern wall and slid to a stop, his Kai already working. Another ruby was embedded into the wall, another rune pictured in D’Jenn’s mind. As he was forming the symbol from his remaining salt, his concentration was threatened by the guttural howl he’d been waiting to hear.

  The Garthorin had spotted him.

  D’Jenn banished his fear and focused on his task. His emotions were a storm held at bay by the pressure of sheer will, and the mental defenses D’Jenn had spent his entire adult life building. The rune formed in the air and D’Jenn kept working, using heat to bind the salt together. His heart beat a furious rhythm in his chest as he pressed the symbol into the wall with his Kai.

  Another howl answered the angry call of the first, and others echoed from the direction of the gate. D’Jenn got the runes set into place and spun away from his spell, giving it one last glance to ensure it was ready. When he was satisfied, D’Jenn turned to run toward the center of the space between the runes.

  The Garthorin were coming for him.

  The beasts were loping over the smooth stone, their claws making a clattering, scraping noise as they ran through the city. There were dozens of the things—scores of them—taking up the chase. They howled for blood and called challenges to their pack-mates in the distance. As D’Jenn ran for the center of the chokepoint, more of the sprinting silhouettes appeared, answering the calls of the beasts in the vanguard.

  Gods help me—just a few moments more!

  D’Jenn reached his destination and came to a halt, checking in both directions to ensure the ground was clear. He glanced at the Garthorin and found them a short distance away, charging in their odd, shambling gait. D’Jenn walled his fear away and sought the storm in the center of his being. With a deep, steadying breath, he summoned his magic.

  He divided his consciousness with practiced ease. D’Jenn turned either piece of his mind to its respective gemstone and sent his senses into their crystalline depths. There was no time for calculations, so D’Jenn channeled as much magic from the ether as he could stand and divided the energy between the two sides of the spell. He filled himself with magic until his bones were singing with it, until he felt there should be lightning arcing between his fingers. With an effort of will, D’Jenn charged the rubies at the hearts of his spells with magical power.

  The runes sprang to life with a gentle hum—the mark of smart construction. There was no flash of energy, no sparkling light, only the murmur of well ordered magic vibrating the ether. Releasing his Kai, D’Jenn opened his eyes.

  A Garthorin was suddenly there, huge in D’Jenn’s sight. D’Jenn was startled from his feet and fell backwards to the stone. He tried to scurry away, but he knew his efforts were useless. For an odd, stretched moment, the oncoming beast was displayed in all its fury.

  There was a flash of blue werelight as the Garthorin crashed into an invisible wall of force. The beast hit D’Jenn’s barrier with crippling speed, and its body went limp at the impact. Another Garthorin, only steps behind the first, smashed into another section of the wall, its growling cut viciously short. D’Jenn scrambled to his feet as a third beast hurtled in his direction, heedless of the danger, and slapped into the wall with a confused grunt and a low flash of blue light. This one lived through the impact, and it lay on the ground uttering a pitiful, breathless whine.

  Fuck the gods! That was cutting it close.

  D’Jenn backed away as more Garthorin appeared. The spell was crude, and constructed of substandard materials. The wall would hold for as long as the magic in the rubies was sufficient to counteract the force applied to the barrier. Each impact, each push, would weaken the spell. Eventually, the wall would fail, leaving the way ahead free and clear. D’Jenn’s spell wouldn’t stop the pursuit, but it would hold for a short while and slow the Garthorin down.

  Before D’Jenn could turn to run, a great crack shattered the air and the ground heaved beneath him. He went down easier this time, but the stone underfoot continued to thrash. D’Jenn felt another surge of magical energy building in his Kai, coming from somewhere in the vast network of spells built into the city. There was a flash of crimson light, and lightning shot up from a side street in the area beyond D’Jenn’s wall. Dust exploded from the points where the lightning touched, and it cut furrows into the rock as it arced across the floor. Garthorin who were hit by the blood-red energy burst into flames, or were ripped apart in an instant. Rumbling sounded from further into the city as ancient buildings toppled and split. The violence went on for longer than the first time, and when the storm was over, it left D’Jenn’s ears ringing.

  Another cataclysm like that and we'll all die here—people and Garthorin both.

  D’Jenn could feel the magical disturbance in his Kai. The sensation was like sitting in a spiderweb made of sound while lightning buzzed along random strands of silk. How much time had passed between the first magical eruption and the second? Had it been a few minutes? Longer? How long would it take for his friends to make it to the top of the mountain?

  If the mountain is still standing once this place tears itself apart. Dread pooled in D’Jenn’s stomach. He and his friends could flee with all their might, make it to the top of the mountain, and be just as dead as if they had laid down for the Garthorin to eat them. If the whole mountain ripped itself apart, everything would be buried in the rubble.

  The source! That stone in the temple—it’s the center of the spell, it’s powering all this destruction.

  D’Jenn glanced to the avenue leading to the mountain path, then to a wider street headed for the city’s center. His Kai buzzed in his ears, reacting to the building magical storm. He spared a thought for the warning he had given Allen when his cousin had sauntered to the dais to pull the source-stone free. D’Jenn had no idea what would happen if he removed the source, but it couldn’t be any worse than what had already transpired.

  Sometimes there aren’t any good options

  With a final look beyond his magical wall, D’Jenn sprinted in the direction of the temple.

  ***

  Dormael’s body ached with each step.

  His ribs were bruised, and they throbbed with pain each time he took a breath. His hands were cut, punctured, and scraped. His legs shook with fatigue, which made his knees wobbly and unsteady. The air was thick in his mouth, his shoulders ached, and he was bleeding from a hundred tiny cuts.

  One glance at Bethany’s face was all he needed to keep going.

  Carrying her made running awkward, but Dormael
managed as best he could. Bethany was small for her age and thin as a whip, but her arms and legs had the gangly length of adolescence. Cradling her with his arms put too much pressure on Dormael’s back, while hugging her threatened to tangle his legs. Tossing the girl over his shoulder wasn’t an option, and Dormael was too fatigued to carry her with magic. So he ran, shifting Bethany’s weight around, and concentrated on keeping his legs moving.

  Dormael could sense a menacing vibration in the ether. Magic surged and flowed everywhere, crackling along an intricate web all around them. Dormael put the phenomenon in the back of his mind—his only concern was getting Bethany to safety.

  The whole damned city can burn as long as she gets out.

  The party rounded a corner in one of the central districts and ran over a scattering of gravel. Dormael’s foot slipped and he fell hard to the stone, using his shoulder to shield Bethany from the impact. His head rang as he smacked it on the ground, which made the rest of his injuries throb for attention. Allen and Shawna were there in seconds, helping him to stand.

  “I’ll take her for a while.” Allen reached down and gathered Bethany to his chest, not waiting for an answer. Dormael could only let out a pained grunt and nod in reply as Shawna helped him to his feet.

  “Keep going,” Dormael said between breaths. “Head for the tunnel!”

  “You can barely stand!” Shawna glanced to the noises of pursuit behind them. “We’re not leaving you.”

  “She’s right.” Allen situated Bethany in his arms. “Best get those legs moving, big brother. We don’t leave this place until you do.”

  Dormael scowled at him. “Get Bethany to safety! She’s more important than me!”

  “I wonder what she’d have to say about that.” Shawna grabbed Dormael by the shoulders. “Every moment we waste arguing is another the Garthorin get closer!”