Princess of Blood

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Princess of Blood Page 40

by Tom Lloyd


  ‘I felt it move,’ he explained.

  ‘Well, what now?’

  Atieno shrugged. His palm was flat, the shard unrestrained but not moving.

  ‘Toss it forward,’ Toil suggested.

  The mage of tempest did so and for a moment it looked like it would just clatter to the floor, but it stopped halfway and trembled in the air for a long moment. It slowly sank at an angle – coming to rest over one of the glyphs Lastani couldn’t name, the one she thought represented a light elemental.

  The shard halted in the centre of the metal disc and for a moment nothing happened. Then silently it began to glow with light. Lynx automatically backed off a few steps.

  ‘I thought someone said this place was even older than the gods?’ Atieno muttered.

  ‘It is,’ Lastani replied. ‘Perhaps there is an affinity between them, either that or the magic in the fragment is enough to activate it.’

  With a whisper of polished stone the floor turned and started to fall away on one side, chunks dropping down into the ground to form steps leading to a level below.

  ‘Oh, Sotorian Bade,’ Toil whispered, ‘I think you’re about to feel very silly indeed.’

  Chapter 32

  Toil retrieved the God Fragment from the disc to see if doing so affected anything. It didn’t appear to so she handed the shard back to Atieno, who tucked it carefully away, and headed down.

  The steps spiralled through a cylindrical shaft, walls decorated with interlocking sweeps of silvery metal. The familiar blue seams in the rock shone brighter than Lynx had ever seen before. Even in the white light of the Monarch’s lamp, he could see the lines that blended into the normal organic flow with deliberate artistry. He could pick out stylised trees, animals, what appeared to be constellations and complex glyphs more ornate than the simple one-word symbols he’d seen elsewhere in the labyrinth.

  ‘Any idea what this all means?’

  ‘Not a clue,’ Toil said absently. ‘Right now, I don’t care.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘’Cos there’s light up ahead.’ She hesitated and glanced back at him. ‘Let’s call the rest, we stick together down here.’

  ‘What about Paranil?’

  ‘Either he can be moved or he’s already dying,’ she said, grim-faced. ‘He’ll want to see what’s down here whichever is the case.’

  They quickly returned and recalled the others, Toil explaining that they weren’t heading back to the surface quite yet. The prospect of not following Bade didn’t seem to impress some, but when she revealed they’d found a hidden entrance, any objections melted like shadows from a flame. As she’d predicted, Paranil, fearing he was dying, insisted on accompanying them so Aben passed his weapons and pack to Lynx before picking the small man up.

  ‘Hardly the first time I’ve had to carry the clumsy sod through some ruin,’ he explained. His attempt to lighten the mood fell on distracted ears, Toil already leading the way back to the stair with Lastani and Suth eagerly at her heels.

  Lynx kept close to them, preferring the white light Suth carried, while the rest followed under Sitain’s lamp. The stair wound two full turns before opening on to another sloping tunnel seven or eight yards wide. Set at two-yard intervals down each side were alcoves containing spheres of milky glass the size of a man’s head. They emitted a very faint glow, barely visible in the lamplight until Lastani reached up to one and brushed it with her fingers, whereupon it brightened considerably. A soft white light washed over them; swirling within that was a rainbow of other colours.

  Toil barely looked back, striding ahead of the rest in her eagerness to see where the tunnel led. It arced left in a long shallow spiral that Lynx guessed took them all the way around the huge central column. The light-spheres grew steadily brighter as they went – reds, blues and greens slowly drifting over the pale stone corridor – until Lynx could see it coming to an end ahead and opening out on to a dimmer space.

  At the end of the tunnel Toil ground to a halt, staring in wonder. The rest of the company shuffled up beside her and stopped too, at the threshold of where the tunnel opened into a cavern. Before them was an enormous vaulted dome a hundred yards across and almost as high, with eight great buttresses carved like stylised trees meeting at the top. In the very centre of the cavern stood a small island surrounded by a narrow moat of glimmering water – but it was the massive stone tree at the centre of the island that drew all eyes.

  The huge trunk split into three thick main branches which each split several times more. The ends of the branches tilted down, putting Lynx in mind of an ancient willow tree, though it was bare of leaves. The stone of the tree itself was paler than the grey granite bedrock that the labyrinth had been made of – near white and seeming to shine by comparison. The trunk bore seams of white crystal that suggested the grain of a tree’s bark, glittering as though the tree’s core was dancing motes of starlight. It cast a pale radiance that the water seemed to gather and magnify while at the base of the wall all around were more light-spheres, fifty or more Lynx guessed, casting a weak speckled white across the floor.

  The blue mineral decoration continued out from the tunnel like trails of ivy, reaching all around the room. Lynx could see constellations described in it on the dome itself high above, cut through by a huge representation of the Skyriver and all glowing in the dim space.

  After a long moment, Toil recovered herself and headed inside, turning full circle to take in the proportions and decorations. Lost in wonder at the sight, she didn’t seem to notice Lastani and Atieno passing her to go to the very edge of the moat and peer into the water. Lynx joined them. It was shallow, no more than a yard deep, and he found it hard to look down with the distracting bulk of the stone tree looming overhead. Closer now, he could see that it was the work of exceptionally talented stone mages echoing the form of a real tree, but maintaining an ethereal simplicity.

  ‘What is it here for?’ Lastani whispered reverently.

  Atieno smiled and nudged her arm gently. ‘You’re supposed to be the expert here.’

  ‘I … I never expected this.’

  ‘The better question,’ Lynx said, ‘is why was this hidden?’

  ‘When a cache of God Fragments were left in plain sight,’ Atieno added.

  ‘Can you see any writing?’ Toil said, finally joining them.

  Her face was flushed with excitement, the relic hunter’s enthusiasm returning in force. Beside her was Aben, who set the grimacing Paranil down, supporting his head and shoulders so the man could see the tree better. Once on the floor the scholar’s pain couldn’t eclipse his delight and wonder at the cavern.

  ‘Writing? Anyone?’ Toil turned to look at the rest of the group who had spread around the walls, circling the moat as though preparing a siege on its secrets.

  ‘Nothing here,’ Safir called.

  Lastani pointed at the tree’s trunk. ‘Look, worked into the design.’

  For a moment Lynx saw nothing – then all of a sudden it clicked into place. Not a small disc this time, but the curve of the tree’s branches had been subtly worked into the form of a glyph. Even in his ignorance he recognised it – just like all the doors they’d passed through.

  ‘Gift,’ he breathed. Lynx looked down. ‘Can we cross the water?’ he said dubiously.

  It looked strange to his eyes, clear but not quite natural with its glimmering silvery quality. After a while he realised there were also tiny dots of colour scattered thinly through it, each one no more than a mote of dust but containing its own rainbow. The water was perfectly still, but contained some innate energy within it that seemed to create facets and ripples below the surface – reflecting, distorting and somehow even magnifying the dim light.

  ‘Try it,’ Deern suggested.

  ‘You try.’

  The scrawny man laughed. ‘Toil’s the one leading the way.’

  All heads turned towards her. She didn’t notice at first, so lost was she in the glyph design, but, when she realised, Toil
scowled at the lot of them.

  ‘Let me,’ Paranil croaked.

  ‘You sure?’ Toil said after a pause. It wasn’t lost on her that he was looking bad, the wound to his gut still leaking blood despite Sitain’s efforts to staunch the flow.

  ‘Yes.’

  She eased him to the water’s edge and moved his hand so it slipped into the water. Paranil gave a sharp gasp and his fingers splayed as though pained, but when Toil jerked his hand back out it was untouched. The water, however, splashed on to his sleeve and there was a bright light – a flash – and then the sleeve was burned clean through. The skin underneath was untouched, but the cloth started to disintegrate to nothing. The whole cuff had completely vanished by the time whatever was happening had stopped, leaving Paranil with a ragged sleeve but a pristine hand.

  ‘It’s okay,’ he whispered. ‘Sharp at first, like a frost, but not exactly painful.’

  ‘Is it just me,’ Lynx began, ‘or is your hand cleaner than before?’

  They all peered down.

  ‘Gods, it is,’ Toil said, ‘look, even under his nails. The hand’s perfectly clean.’

  ‘A purification rite,’ Lastani said in a voice of wonder. ‘All Duegar rituals had them, but this must literally wash the skin clean too! Of cloth too, even.’

  Deern laughed loudly off to the right. ‘You heard the woman!’ he announced loudly, dropping his gun. ‘Get yer kit off, boys and girls. Time to show what yer holding, as Anatin’s so fond o’ saying.’

  Toil watched the chuckling mercenary as he shed his clothes with surprising enthusiasm. Looking around, no one had followed Deern’s lead, but curiously that didn’t seem to dissuade him at all. They’d had little contact since their little talk on the ship, but she had to admit Deern had surprised her. Given most of the rest of the Cards had been buzzing on one narcotic or another, she’d assumed Deern would have taken the opportunity to avoid helping in any way. Instead he seemed to be relishing the challenge. She doubted it was out of any feelings of guilt, though, so for the time being Toil had to assume it was egotism driving Deern.

  Turns out you’re not a gutless piece of shit, Deern, she thought to herself as he hauled his shirt off to reveal a scarred, rangy torso. Still a piece of shit who goes out of his way to be a bastard, but some might say I shouldn’t criticise on that front.

  ‘What’s wrong? You all shy?’ Deern asked as he kicked off his boots. ‘Or better at jumping than I am?’

  He nodded to the moat, more than four yards wide.

  Barra could have made it, Toil thought sadly before biting her tongue hard. Dammit woman, no time for that! She’s dead and there’s fucking nothing you can do except make Bade pay.

  ‘We’re waiting for you, Deern,’ Toil said. ‘To see if you die first.’

  ‘Fair enough, just don’t think I’ll wait around for any o’ you gibbering fools if there’s something worth having.’

  Once he was fully naked Deern stared defiantly around at his comrades before gingerly dipping a foot into the water.

  ‘Shitting hells o’ dark!’ Deern exclaimed, juddering at whatever was being done to his foot. But after a moment he stopped and inspected it.

  ‘Well?’

  ‘Well, that were fucking weird,’ he said, bunching his toes experimentally. ‘More’n a bit tingly, that. I’ll give equal odds between me passing out and getting the horn if I dip my balls in.’

  Toil shuddered at the image in her mind. ‘Please don’t.’

  ‘He, ah …’ Lastani blushed furiously, but the academic in her won out. ‘You should get entirely under – let it cleanse every part.’

  Deern blew out his cheeks. ‘Aye? Well let no man say I wasn’t ever up for the rough stuff.’

  With that he slipped into the water, first one leg and then the other. His eyes were wide and bulging by the time it reached his balls; not quite pain, Toil guessed, but some intense sensation engulfing his body. Deern gave a roar and shook his head like a dog, the muscles in his arms taut.

  ‘Ulfer’s hairy cock! This …’

  Words failed him at that point, but clearly the sensation started to fade and with a manic grin he closed his eyes and ducked his whole body under the water. He rose like a man scalded, bellowing madly and limbs flailing, but soon even that subsided and he just stood there panting – too overwhelmed to even make another joke.

  Eventually he caught his breath and looked around at the others. ‘Spirits below, you lot ought to try this. It’s a new one on me, but godspit and damnation, what a rush!’

  That seemed to decide it for them all and even Lastani started pulling her clothes off in her eagerness to get to the tree. Modest propriety had never been a major factor in Toil’s life so she’d been ready to shed them as soon as Deern failed to fulfil Himbel’s wishes and die horribly.

  It was a surprise to see Lastani strip, though. The discomfort was clear on her face, not least because she was standing between Atieno and Lynx – two large and imposing men who were similarly naked – but her determination overrode everything. Soon Lastani stood clutching her shirt to herself to preserve a few more moments of modesty, while Deern leered on general principle.

  Toil slipped into the water and gasped as every strand of hair and inch of skin seemed to blaze with life. Not painful but an intense tingle that wrapped itself around her and set her nerves aflame – driving the breath from her lungs. She saw Kas, waist-deep and eyes widening, give a short squeal of surprise. Their eyes met and they shared a slightly hysterical laugh before Toil ducked herself under and came up shrieking.

  Her skin felt hot and cold at the same time, taut when she moved but the tension and lingering aches in her muscles had melted away. She kept her eyes straight ahead, careful not to look at Lynx as she felt her nipples harden in a most delicious way under the water’s effect.

  Just like Paranil’s hand, though, she felt scrubbed clean and, as she inspected her body, Toil saw the cuts and bruises she’d picked up in the last day heal up into pink new flesh. Even her head felt clearer, the lingering dullness that had followed Crown-Prince Tylom hitting her was gone and, looking around, Toil saw she wasn’t the only one to have healed.

  ‘Aben,’ she called, ‘help me with Paranil.’

  Together they stripped Paranil as carefully as they could then lifted him into the water. The small man screamed louder than any of them had, almost convulsing under the combined effect of the water and his wound. Slowly that subsided and before long he was ready to be fully ducked under – closing his mouth to let the water flow over his face like a newborn’s first blessing.

  That seemed to be all he could take and when Aben raised him up again a moment later, Paranil had gone limp. Aben placed him on the island side and checked his jugular, pausing a moment before nodding to Toil.

  ‘Probably for the best with a wound like that,’ Toil commented.

  She leaned over the man to inspect his wound. It hadn’t closed, but no more blood flowed out despite the removal of Sitain’s rough dressing. Perhaps the water would heal even something life-threatening; right now she could only hope.

  They all clambered out on the island side and looked up at the glittering stone tree, fifty or sixty yards high by Toil’s estimation. It seemed bigger now they were on this side. After a while, Toil realised everyone was waiting for her – or rather, they were all standing around looking slightly self-conscious. Lastani was just staring at the stone by her feet, hugging herself, while Sitain looked perhaps even more uncomfortable.

  As Toil looked around them she caught sight of Lynx, staring fixedly at the tree. The last time she’d seen him naked had been in a cell surrounded by a good few of the male Cards. He’d hardly looked at his best there and, she had to be honest, he probably didn’t right now either.

  Still, he’s a solid lump of muscle, Toil reflected. That belly doesn’t look so bad when it’s attached to a big frame. Shame this water doesn’t heal scars too, though. Those bastards really made a mess of his back – d
oubt I’ve ever taken a beating to match the pain he must have felt.

  Her skin still felt the afterglow of whatever the water had done and the urge to press her body against his was almost overwhelming, but she fought it and eventually won out.

  ‘Lastani,’ she croaked. ‘The glyph, if you please?’

  The young woman gave a cough of surprise before she nodded and scurried forward.

  ‘As before?’ she said.

  ‘Gift,’ Toil confirmed with a nod.

  Lastani reached out and pressed her palm against the stone tree trunk, closing her eyes. There was a flicker of cold on the air as her magic surged out and suddenly the dim light in the cavern intensified. Before Toil could say anything Lastani had taken a step back, mouth open with surprise – and then the water surrounding the island leaped up in the air.

  The air turned silver with a blinding flash. Toil heard someone cry out, but her own throat was dry as she watched the water stream upwards to the branches of the tree – becoming long fronds of light trailing down like a willow’s hanging branches. The shining water twisted into the shape of narrow leaves as it swirled up through the air; a hundred thousand shards of light turning and winking in the gloom of the cavern.

  It was painful to behold after so much time in the dark, but Toil couldn’t tear her eyes away. She turned around, looking almost straight up at the glinting trails of liquid hanging impossibly down towards her, some almost close enough to touch. Her hand stopped short of doing so, afraid to disturb something so fragile and beautiful.

  Then the water fell back without warning, blazing silver light slapping down against the party’s bare skin and driving everyone to the ground. The pain overwhelmed her. Toil barely cried out before she felt darkness engulf her mind.

  Chapter 33

  Lynx opened his eyes and immediately regretted it. Strange angular shapes loomed over him in the gloom, blurred and wavering as he tried to make sense of what he saw. His skin tingled, his muscles ached and his eyes had ghosting trails of light overlaying everything. How long he’d been unconscious was anyone’s guess – it felt like he was emerging from a long night of fever-sleep where the hours had given him no rest.

 

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