by Rob May
She had to do what Rafe tried and failed to do; she had to kill Gron Darklaw.
If she could ever find him! Kal continued on, taking the passages that led down deeper into the mountain. If Darklaw wasn’t still on his little island, then maybe she could sail his boat out to the swamp. Or if the boat wasn’t there, then there was that main tunnel up from the lava lake that all the other routes branched off from. Kal stopped for breath at a Y-shaped junction and brushed her damp fringe out of her eyes. If, if, if! But in her favour was the fact that Darklaw didn’t know that she was coming. A surprise blade in his back would take him down easy enough!
A stinging hot wind hit Kal from out of the left passage. She could hear echoes of shouts, and the clamour of machinery, as if there was a large open space down that way. She could also detect a faint pale light. Kal decided to take a look. What she discovered at the end of the tunnel wasn’t another big cave or chamber, but an immense shaft.
The gold mine was more than a hundred yards across. Far above, several shafts of sunlight filtered in from cracks in the mountain. The natural light was barely enough to reach down to Kal’s level, though, and below her the shaft disappeared into a darkness that was scattered with pin-prick flashes of torchlight. The walls of the shaft were smooth dark granite, criss-crossed with grey seams of quartz that caught the sun and glittered.
On Kal’s side of the shaft, a wooden scaffold hugged the wall; an intricate lattice of ladders and platforms that was crawling with short, hunched goblins on their way up and down the mine. They ignored Kal as they trudged to work. Were they happier now under Darklaw’s regime than under Benedict’s? Did they even know or care that the mine had changed hands?
As Kal watched the goblins, she noticed that the scaffold served another purpose: it supported a network of metal pipes that were attached to the underside of the wooden boards that the miners walked along. The pipes were about eighteen inches thick and ran in and out of caves and tunnels in the walls of the shaft; in other places they were bolted vertically to the rock; and here and there Kal spotted cast iron junction boxes where three or more pipes intersected. She put a hand on the pipe that ran along the wall on her level; it was hot to the touch, too hot to rest her palm against for more than a second.
The pipework seemed new. Was this some innovation of Darklaw’s? Further along the scaffold she saw a goblin at a junction box turning a heavy iron wheel, like the sort found at the helm of a ship. As the goblin turned it one way, a hissing head of steam was released from a pipe above the goblin’s head. As he then put his weight into turning the wheel back the other way, a loud clanking sound started up. Kal looked up and saw the arm of an enormous crane swing out over the shaft. A wide platform was descending on chains. As it passed her, Kal could see that it was empty now, but would no doubt return filled with rocks. It seemed that Darklaw had harnessed the heat of the mountain to mine deeper and more efficiently than ever before.
Kal could only shake her head at the intellect and innovation that was wasted in a man like Gron Darklaw; a man who in other circumstances would have been an asset to the Senate … to humanity, even. Instead he channelled his keen mind into plans of death and destruction.
When the goblin at the controls had moved on, Kal ran along the scaffold and past the control wheel, until she came to a new tunnel that led away from the shaft and back up into the mountain. This one had a track for minecarts, so surely it would lead her back to more recognisable territory, if not directly to the mine entrance. There was a cart waiting, linked to the tracks by a long chain. A metal pipe also ran up the side of the tunnel, and there was another control station with levers as well as a wheel. So the goblins no longer had to push the minecarts—perhaps Darklaw’s new regime wasn’t entirely to their detriment after all.
Kal laughed to herself as she briefly considered riding the cart up the track, but that would surely throw the only advantage she had—that nobody knew she was loose—out of the window. Even so, she couldn’t resist a peek into the cart. It was loaded with fist-sized chunks of quartz that sparkled with gold. She took one and weighed it in her hand. The concentration of gold looked unusually high—maybe as much as half the weight of the rock. Idle thoughts crossed her mind: could she somehow complete her mission and escape the island with a few chunks of quartz? Ben would never have to know …
She kicked herself mentally and hurried on up the tunnel. What good was gold to anyone if you were dead? Kal tried to put all thoughts of gold and riches out of her mind and attempted to focus on finding Darklaw. Soon enough she reached a wooden bridge where the minecart track passed over a wide thoroughfare below. Gron Darklaw and a squad of his hobgoblin soldiers had just passed underneath. He was briefing them as they walked; as they continued up the main tunnel, Kal could just about make out talk of map coordinates and schedules. Two of the men were rolling barrels of pitch along behind the rest of the squad.
When they had disappeared out of sight, Kal prepared to drop down off the bridge and follow them. But she couldn’t help thinking of what she had seen back in the gold mine. Don’t think about it, she told herself. It’s a stupid idea!
But what if she couldn’t create a chance to kill Darklaw? What if she just had to abandon the plan and run? She was only one person against an army after all—so why shouldn’t she take the easy option?
Kal cursed under her breath as she made a final decision. ‘Sorry, Ben,’ she muttered under her breath as she turned and ran back down the track to the shaft.
* * *
Ten minutes later, Kal came back up the track with a heavy sack over her shoulder. When she reached the main tunnel again she dropped down from the bridge and stashed her load in the shadow of a fold of rock. Now to take care of Darklaw. She needed to get close to him, but not so close that he could smell her this time. Just close enough to put a dagger in his back, and then make her escape amid the confusion that would hopefully follow. Kal slipped off her sandals to silence her approach—she often went barefoot, so her soles were toughened—and then hurried up the tunnel.
She found Darklaw and his men in a cavern that opened out onto the swamp. The slight hint of a breeze that brought in the rotten egg smell of the mangroves was a welcome relief. Three small galleys, their low masts almost scraping the cavern roof, were docked in deep rectangular channels that had been cut into the cavern floor. Kal dropped behind a stack of barrels and spied through the gaps. Darklaw was about thirty feet away with his back to her. It was a fair distance for a knife throw: any further and a quick and clean kill would be impossible.
The big man was still wearing his black tunic and hose from dinner, but he now carried his cruel bastard sword at his back. His squad stood rigidly to attention in front of him, their unruly wildness held in check by Darklaw’s commanding presence. They stood in silence in front of the ramp up to one of the galleys, waiting to board. Darklaw’s next-in-command looked nervous; he was looking anxiously around the cavern as if waiting for someone. A small rumbling tremor hit the mountain, but the men were so used to it, and so disciplined, that they ignored it.
‘You are two men short, Gurik,’ Darklaw growled. ‘Who is missing?’
‘Fug and Jeg, Sir,’ the hobgoblin replied. ‘They were last seen taking a prisoner—’
Kal’s window of opportunity was about to slam shut if she didn’t act now. In one movement she stood up from behind the barrels and let fly with one of her daggers, almost falling forward as she put her weight behind the throw. She knew her aim was good as soon as the dagger left her hand: the eight-inch blade was heading straight for the back of Darklaw’s neck. There was no time for him to avoid it …
… except that he did. At the last moment he casually tilted his head to one side, and Kal’s dagger flew past and instead struck the one called Gurik right between the eyes, killing him instantly. Darklaw didn’t even turn around as he proceeded to issue orders to his men. ‘Seal the exits!’ he barked. The hobgoblins started to run in all different dire
ctions at the same time Kal did. Three blocked her escape into the swamp; on impulse she ran over to the nearest galley and prepared to dive into the dock.
Kal pulled up short so fast that she fell onto her back. It was a dry dock. The gates out to the channel through the swamp were closed—if she had dived she would have cracked her skull on the rock ten feet down. When she picked herself up and turned around, she found the squad of troops surrounding her in a wide semi-circle. Darklaw himself stood with them, a grim look on his face.
He drew his bastard sword, the same sword that had felled Rafe. ‘It pains me to say it,’ he sighed, ‘but there comes a time in every relationship where you just have to cut your losses and put an end to it.’
‘Didn’t you notice that’s what I’ve been trying to do!’ Kal shot back.
One of the soldiers came hurrying over. ‘Sir, we found this hidden just down the tunnel.’ He dropped Kal’s heavy sack at Darklaw’s feet.
Darklaw’s yellow eyes narrowed and he hissed. ‘You would not only kill me in cold blood, Moonheart, but you would steal from me, too! That which I would have gladly given to you freely! I misjudged you: you have no honour, no shame and no pride. I was a fool to pursue you!’
Kal spat at the floor between her and her nemesis. As if in answer, the mountain began to shake once more.
Darklaw was so incensed that he couldn’t even speak. He kicked at the sack and spilled the contents all over the cavern floor.
But it wasn’t gold-flecked rocks of quartz that spread out between Darklaw and Kal, but variously-shaped pieces of cast iron: levers and handles, wheels and bolts.
Darklaw’s face froze in surprise as he stared at the debris. The mountain continued to shake.
‘What have you done?’ he said to Kal in a low voice.
‘Ended your invasion,’ she replied as the ground buckled beneath them and chunks of rock began to fall from above.
V.vii
Flames
The dragon landed at the edge of the treeline. With its jaws it gripped the trunk of a thick oak, then wrenched the ancient tree back and forth until its roots were pulled from the earth. The dragon then smashed the whole tree down, breaking it in two. Holding it in place with a foot, it attacked the branches with its teeth, ripping them from the trunk four or five at a time.
Kalina watched the show from just inside the entrance tunnel to the willow grove. ‘What’s it doing?’ Ben asked from within.
‘Gardening by the looks of it,’ she replied. ‘Unless dragons eat leaves and twigs. You tell me, Ben.’
‘I’m pretty sure that they’re carnivores,’ Ben said dryly as she rejoined him in the earthy hollow under the canopy of trees. ‘In the stories I tell, they are usually partial to human flesh. Cooked human flesh.’
Kalina sat down on a thick willow root opposite him. ‘Got any more ideas?’ she asked.
Ben shook his head. ‘The most recently-recorded dragon attack was when the West Wind Dragon attacked the city, and that was five hundred years ago. Feron Firehand killed that one … again, with a weapon of the gods. The very same weapon, as it happens, that you tossed in the river half a mile back.’
Kalina waved away Ben’s complaint. ‘I’m sorry, alright? But what’s done is done. You know what they say: you can’t put the milk back in the cow.’
She got up and paced around what was once the home of the forest god Mena, but was now their prison. ‘It’s a shame that Mena didn’t leave any weapons lying around for us to use. Just this big old mirror. Maybe we could try running outside holding it aloft.’ Kalina gave a harsh laugh. ‘If we’re lucky, the dragon will be scared off by its own reflection.’
Ben watched her as she fidgeted about. ‘You’re in a strange humour, Kal. What’s got into you?’
‘What’s got into me? Nothing, apart from the fact that almost everyone I know is dead, and here we are trapped by a dragon that’s hell-bent on revenge. If I don’t laugh about it then I’ll probably just break down and die.’
Ben shrugged. ‘Well, the mirror trick might do the job for all I know. I’ve got a thousand stupid stories and legends in my head, but it turns out that none of them are worth a damn in the real world. It’s probably just as well that the Godsword line of kings ends with me here, where nobody’s around to see and write or sing about it. If we escaped to Amaranthium then we’d probably just die with everyone else when the dragons, goblins and trolls finally take the city. Oh well, civilisation has had a good run. Nothing lasts forever, and two thousand years is more than long enough.’
‘I’m not giving up!’ Kalina hissed between gritted teeth.
There was a flapping of wings close by and they both flinched as something heavy crashed down on the roof of woven willow branches above them. It wasn’t the dragon this time; they could hear the monster hit the ground nearby. A minute later the willows bent again as more stuff crashed down on them.
‘It’s dropping logs and branches,’ Kalina realised. ‘It’s building a new nest right on top of us!’
She turned to Mena’s Mirror in desperation. It was said that the bestial forest god saw her inner beauty when she looked in it: the mirror was supposed to reveal the truth about everyone. But all Kalina could see in it was a frightened man and a dirty, wild-eyed girl. She lashed out with her fist and punched the glass, but the only thing that broke was the skin on her knuckles.
She sucked at the blood thoughtfully for a few minutes. Ben just sat with his head in his hands.
‘I’ve got a plan,’ she announced eventually.
* * *
They worked methodically on Kal’s plan for the rest of the afternoon. She gave Ben the easy and trivial jobs whenever she saw him dithering anxiously behind her. As they worked away, so too did the dragon, flying back and forth, piling trees and branches above and around them. Kal sent Ben down the entrance tunnel of spiralling branches several times to make sure that their exit was kept clear. As evening fell, and the light from the tunnel faded, she had him build a fire in a circle of stones.
‘Just be careful,’ she warned. ‘We don’t want to help the dragon and light this bonfire for it.’
Ben struck his flint against his steel, scraping off tiny glowing slivers of hot metal that rained down on the dry kindling. ‘I don’t think that it needs our help,’ he said. ‘The West Wind Dragon set half of downtown Amaranthium ablaze with just one breath, remember?’
‘I can’t quite recall what I was doing that day,’ Kal said sarcastically. ‘Come on, Ben; knowing what we know now, it was probably someone else who started the fire to lure the dragon, and not the other way round. I’ll believe a dragon can breathe fire the day I see a dragon breathe fire!’
‘Let’s just hope that it’s not today,’ Ben said gloomily as he went back to twisting the thinnest willow branches together to make strong inch-thick cables.
They ate a final meal of old bread and bacon. Ben had mixed up a mushy paste of herbs to garnish it, but they still found themselves having to swallow hard to force it all down. As they sat and ate in silence, something dripped from the roof of branches and landed on Kal’s arm. It was a clear amber liquid. She licked it; it was sticky, sweet and oily. She summoned up some saliva and spat the taste away.
‘Now I know what dragon pee tastes like,’ she said.
After they had eaten, Kal was making some last minute checks when Ben broached a subject that he had evidently been dwelling on all day.
‘The tomb …’ he began.
‘What?’
‘The resting place of Banos … you said you knew where it was. If you don’t tell me now, Kal, then I might never know.’
Kal laughed. ‘You know the answer, Ben. You’ve just never put two and two together.’
Ben shrugged and spread his hands.
‘You know everything about the gods, Ben. Come on, where is Whalo buried?’
‘In Brightfish Bay, with his wife, Vuda. What’s that got to do with anything?’
‘And Lumatore?’<
br />
‘They built a mausoleum at the bottom of the Canyon of Bones. She lies there with Draxos, her husband. I can see what you’re getting at, Kal, but Banos never spent longer than a night with a girl, let alone ever got around to marrying one! He spent his whole life in the saddle, riding from battle to battle with Arcus, getting mixed-up in whatever conflict they came across, and stirring up trouble when there was none to be found. Arcus was just as bad; he never married either—’
Kal raised an eyebrow. Ben’s face lit up as the realisation hit him.
‘Oh! Of course! It’s so obvious really. I guess they were too busy having fun to stop and marry each other.’
‘Find Arcus,’ Kal confirmed, ‘and that’s where you’ll find Banos, too.’
‘You’re right,’ Ben said. ‘And no one ever figured it out because nobody has actually seen Arcus’s tomb; he was buried deep under the rock of the hill where he fought his final battle against the Dragon. But my ancestors must have found the tomb and buried Banos alongside him! Kal, we have to get to Amaranthium! We have to go to Arcus Hill and find the Forgotten Tomb!’
Kal was pleased to see Ben in a better mood, but he seemed to have forgotten their current predicament. ‘Let’s worry about that later,’ she said as she dragged a long, twisted willow root into a new position. ‘We have a dragon to deal with first.’
* * *
By midnight they were as ready as they ever would be. Kal could hear the dragon shuffling around on top of the nest above them. She put her hand on Ben’s shoulder as they prepared to leave the safety of the willow grove. ‘Just don’t look back, okay? Run to the river and stay underwater as long as you can as you go downstream. Hopefully, the dragon won’t chase you if it’s after me.’