by Tom Lloyd
Uvrel twisted in her saddle to call behind her. ‘Commander Quentes, gather the mercenaries’ horses and bring them with us. Set a few troopers to watch the cave, in case they try to double back. They’d be fools to attempt it on foot when the ford is under guard, but let’s not overestimate the intelligence of these mercenaries. They have chosen to enter Shadows Deep, after all.’
Chapter 19
Lynx heard his comrades gasp or breathe soft curses at the sight, but his astonishment was so complete he couldn’t even move. There were four Wisps up on the ridge with the mercenaries, but he caught sight of more moving on the nearer shore of the lake. The Wisps were tall, about Reft’s height and similarly pale but slender where he was muscular. Their narrow hairless heads sported four large cat-slit eyes – an upper pair set slightly wider and higher than a human’s, and a lower pair where a jaw hinge should be. The mouths were almost invisible, just a narrow opening below a short flare of a nose.
They wore complex wrapped lengths of cloth around their torsos that bore intricate swirling patterns, while their arms and legs seemed to be covered in something more like leather – textured with ridges or scales and all segmented to allow for a double set of joints in each limb. Three carried hooked axes on their belts but none had the weapons drawn – instead they all four had their hands outstretched towards the mercenaries. In the palm of each was a flicker of movement. Flames danced over the skin of two while a trio of pebbles spun slowly in another’s hand and a coil of darkness in the last one’s – four mages all standing guard together, as many as Lynx had actually spoken to in his entire life.
The stand-off continued for half a dozen heartbeats, then the Wisp holding the darkness make a gesture with its free hand. One of the fire-holders closed their long fingers and extinguished the flame before moving to kneel before Toil to echo her pose. As it did so Lynx saw two of its fingers glow with a similar dull light to the rocks in the tunnel. Toil raised her hand and made some gesture which the Wisp returned in one fluid sweep.
Toil continued to move her whitened fingertip through the air, hesitantly at first but then with a greater fluency. The mage, the largest of its kind, with a grey darkened brow, watched her intently, fingers folded inward to partially obscure the light.
‘What’s going on?’ Ashis asked, her voice startlingly loud in the hush. ‘We dead yet?’
‘They’re talking,’ Lynx whispered back.
‘Eh? I don’t hear ’em.’
‘Talking with their hands. Look.’
Ashis blinked. ‘Oh. That’s fucking weird.’
‘Someone shut her up,’ Toil called back, pausing in her gestures.
‘You heard the woman,’ Anatin snapped. ‘Let her work.’
It didn’t take long. A minute or two more, just as Lynx’s knees were starting to ache, Toil gave a grunt and stood up as the Wisp stepped away.
‘All good?’ Anatin asked.
She nodded. ‘Aye.’
‘Just like that?’
Toil shrugged. ‘They don’t give much of a shit about humans, one of the reasons why I like ’em. So long as we don’t cause trouble for their kind or their light-gardens, we’re fine. They appreciated a warning about the Charnelers; they’ll pack their things and head home to pass on the word. The Orders don’t have the best history with Wisps, you won’t be surprised to hear.’
‘Light-gardens?’
She gestured to the lake. ‘Places like this, where they grow most o’ their food.’
‘What about us?’
‘We’re going with them.’ Toil smiled. ‘Bit of escort duty, you lot should be good at it by now. Better, anyway.’
‘Escorting what?’
‘The thirds, down there, and whatever’s been harvested.’
‘Thirds?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Watching dark, don’t you know anything about Wisps?’
That produced a scowl from Anatin and a general round of non-committal grunts from the rest. Lynx kept quiet. He’d been surprised they even wore proper clothes, of a fashion – from what little he’d heard Lynx had been expecting animal skins and warpaint.
Toil nodded towards the stone mage. ‘He’s male,’ she said, ‘the other three warriors are female.’
‘So what are thirds?’
‘What I call the others, not like there’s a word I can speak for it. The thirds look different to the males and females.’
‘Slaves?’
‘Nah – a third sex. They’re the ones that carry the children, all three make ’em though.’
‘All three?’ asked several of the mercenaries at once in varying tones of disgust and wonder. Kas cackled loudly, startling the Wisps.
‘All three,’ Toil confirmed. ‘Don’t ask how it works, I never got that close to proceedings.’
As she spoke, more Wisps came up the slope from the lakeside, each of them wearing tall reed baskets on their backs, mostly containing plants Lynx couldn’t identify. The last basket held small fish, some still wriggling fresh from the water amid the coils of what he assumed was some sort of eel. Several of the Wisps themselves were noticeably shorter and thicker in the torso than the others, the thirds Lynx assumed, but others were clearly male or female. They all filed past the mercenaries, sparing them only what seemed curious glances, while two of the warriors led the way out.
‘Come on,’ Toil said, hefting her mage-gun again. ‘We’ve got a long walk ahead of us.’
As Lynx went through into the first chamber he saw the Wisp warriors moving with an eerie silent grace as they stalked towards the grille, magic ready. It didn’t take them long to be satisfied that the great tunnel was empty and the whole group started off along the level road towards Shadows Deep. Lynx saw that the Wisps had no lanterns of their own, just the faint glow from their fingertips when they conversed, which illuminated nothing.
He shivered at the thought, a crawling sensation on his skin as he imagined a life underground all too easily. The memories slithered back into his mind; cramped half-lit tunnels, the stink of bodies and headaches from the poor air. His heart began to judder, his chest tightening as he felt the prickle of sweat on his skin. With an effort Lynx fought his memories back, forced himself to look up at the high ceiling above and send his thoughts away from fears of the dark.
He looked around him and saw Sitain nearby, one hand perched nervously on the butt of her mage-pistol. Suddenly he was desperate to talk, to hear a normal voice pierce the cloying dark that surrounded them and seemed to seep inside him with every breath.
‘Sitain,’ he whispered, sidling over to the young woman. ‘How far can you see?’
‘Down the tunnel?’
‘Aye. Further than the light o’ the lantern?’
She squinted forward. ‘I guess. The rough shape of the tunnel anyway, no detail. Why?’
‘Just trying to work out what advantages we’ve got down here. What if you let a little magic out to play?’
Sitain shrugged and didn’t reply, but from the little Lynx could see she seemed to be focusing on doing what he’d asked. Before she could say anything the nearest of the Wisps gave a start and turned its narrow face her way. It was one of the thirds, a half-full basket on its back and a long robe down to its lower set of knees. It blinked its lower eyes twice in quick succession then rubbed its hands together with a papery rasp. One of the others made a long fluid gesture with its glowing finger and others joined in the rasping of palms.
‘What’re they saying, Toil?’ Sitain said, alarmed.
‘Don’t worry, it wasn’t very rude,’ Toil replied with a small laugh. ‘No malice in it, just friendly mocking, like you might a child.’
‘Aye well, they don’t get strung up or sold off for magery.’ Sitain scowled. ‘Sure they’ve had more time to practise.’ She looked at Lynx. ‘I can see better now, further. Wouldn’t be able to hold it for too long, but at a pinch, sure.’
‘Hey, Reft,’ called Varain from behind them. ‘You sure these ain’t your pe
ople? You half Wisp or something?’
‘Ulfer’s horn, there’s a thought!’ Anatin said. ‘Would explain a few things. What you say, Reft?’
The big man shook his head but before they could press him Toil spoke up again. ‘Keep it down back there. Sound travels well underground. Best we keep it to a minimum less we attract something nasty.’
Lynx bit back a reply, pursed his lips and kept his eyes on Toil up ahead instead. The anxiety settled back around him again like a cold blanket tightening, but he ignored it as best he could, trying to focus elsewhere. There was little distraction to be had, though. The darkness was a veil he wanted to ignore and no sound reached him beyond the crunch of dirt beneath human feet and the soft pad of the Wisps.
The dry and still air carried only the faint musky sweat of his comrades and an earthy, bitter smell he guessed was the Wisps, so he contented himself with watching the sway of Toil’s hips instead. The memory of her naked was an easy one to conjure up, it was burned into his mind, and once more he cursed himself for just standing there like some gormless little boy.
He half-stumbled as the memory filled his thoughts. Grunting, Lynx glanced around to see Sitain watching him and he straightened, hoping she couldn’t see the guilty flush that coloured his cheeks.
‘You glazed over a bit there,’ she whispered.
‘Ain’t a fan of underground,’ he said in a gruff voice. ‘Trying to think of something else.’
‘So I saw.’
A sharp glance over her shoulder from Toil hushed the pair of them, but Lynx could sense the knowing grin on Sitain’s lips even as they trudged on in silence. He felt his hand tighten at the thought, but knew perfectly how his anger smouldered at such times. A dozen long, slow breaths were enough to dispel the urge to lash out. When he was composed again he kept his head up and focused on the miles ahead of them instead.
The tunnel floor was not far off a highway in terms of being level and free of debris. The lack of light meant occasionally there would be an unseen stone underfoot, but for the main part they could keep to a swift pace which would somewhat lessen the Charneler advantage of horseback. They pressed on, the longer-limbed Wisps pushing the mercenaries as fast as they could walk, and by Lynx’s estimation they covered the ground quickly.
An hour passed, then another. The Wisps showed no sign of pausing for a rest despite some of their number being burdened by the baskets. There were thirteen of them in all, nine labourers and four warriors as escort. Occasionally one of the warriors would lope on ahead, breaking into a lazy jog that nevertheless meant they disappeared into the darkness only moments later. They didn’t go far from what Lynx could tell, just enough to scout the ground ahead where an obstacle or bend in the tunnel must have obscured their view. Once or twice it took a few hundred yards of walking before the scout was caught up, but Lynx couldn’t tell if they had gone further or just continued at a distance and the pace was such he didn’t bother to ask.
An old rockfall slowed them briefly, the Wisp warriors silently creeping up over a great uneven pile of stone where the tunnel had collapsed and been dug open long ago. The mercenaries waited well back with the labourers while the warriors investigated for threats. Lynx took the time to inspect his comrades in turn, determined to distract himself from the gnawing anxiety of being underground.
Reft stood tall and still, a statue of a man undisturbed by everything going on around him, while Teshen prowled like a restless panther – not nervous, but brimming with energy. Anatin and Olut leaned close, talking in whispers, while Toil retreated back down the tunnel to watch their rear.
She almost vanished from the meagre reach of the strange lantern, having left it with a jittery Sitain, and still Toil looked unruffled, as though the dark was her true home. The idea disquieted Lynx. Just imagining it made him breathless. But before the panic could mount Kas plonked herself down beside him, her face a picture of calm as though they were in a quiet tavern rather than some monster-haunted mine.
‘Take a load off,’ she whispered to him. ‘Keep me company.’
Lynx complied with a forced smile and sat down beside her, a long-familiar saying of his homeland’s army appearing in his thoughts. ‘The body can be trained as easily as a dog – a warrior must make his body obedient to his every command.’ It was something Governor Lorfen had quoted to him, just before releasing Lynx into the So Han countryside.
‘I’ve seen slaves and prisons, more than I care to remember,’ Lorfen had said. ‘They break minds and some damage cannot be undone, but you So Han warriors understand mastery over the body better than most others. Regain that mastery, choose to be the one in command, or you will be a slave to the broken parts inside you. Force yourself to smile, to stand tall and face the sun rather than the shadows of your fears. Wear it as armour against the fears and the body will learn such habits again. It won’t heal the breaks, but it’ll ease their pain. Sometimes having that armour to hide behind is enough.’
‘Reckon we’re getting through this alive?’ Kas said, nudging him from his reverie.
‘This ruin?’ Lynx shrugged. ‘Getting friendly with the natives can’t hurt. Toil seems to know what she’s about.’
She nodded and took a swig of water from her canteen. ‘Aye, guess so. Still can’t get over that bit. Never seen one in the flesh and now look at us.’ Kas gestured around at the pale, inhuman faces clustered in two groups. Several pairs of hands were moving rapidly, the glow of fingertips leaving a faint trail in the air.
‘Looks like they can’t believe it either.’
‘Or they’re debating how to eat us,’ Kas said with a small shiver. ‘Those eyes creep me out.’
Lynx couldn’t argue there. The lower pair was set slightly further apart than the upper pair and he could see the pale slit irises swivelling as they conversed, keeping a wary watch in all directions. The thirds were the most garrulous, in so far as Lynx could guess from the gestures, and were at the heart of both discussions, but nothing he saw bore out Kas’s worries.
A flash of movement made him raise his gun, almost firing on the lithe figure descending the uneven pile of rocks until he recognised it. The largest of the warriors bounded down past him, fingers pulsing bright until it reached the tunnel floor. It looked around for Toil then saw her away down in the tunnel and made a quick gesture. She sprinted back without saying a word, kicking up dust and stirring the mercenaries to shrug off their packs ready for a fight.
‘Something’s coming,’ she hissed. ‘Don’t fire unless you have to.’
Lynx felt a jolt in the gut at her words. There were few Duegar ruins in So Han but they’d still heard the stories of maspids – a monster to scare children and adults alike. Toil raced past him and hopped up the smaller fallen rocks so the mercenaries followed, Anatin waving Olut back to watch their rear.
‘Burner in the pipe,’ he hissed as he went and Olut nodded, patting the closed breech of her gun to indicate she already had a fire-bolt loaded.
Lynx laboured up the easiest path he could find, struggling his way to the top where the warriors, Toil and Teshen waited. Beyond the barrier he could see only a solid wall of darkness, but as Anatin joined him the leading Wisp warrior hurled a fistful of fire down the tunnel ahead.
The magic made no sound, just the hiss of flame over stone as it struck thirty yards away, but it was enough to cast some small light over a stretch of ground. Lynx flinched as he saw jagged shapes dart away from the light – angular shadows writ large on the rough tunnel walls.
‘Fuck me, this ain’t good,’ growled Varain, tracking a dark body with his gun until it melted into the darkness a moment later.
‘No guns unless they charge,’ Toil muttered as a zip of air was followed by a whip-crack of stone on stone up ahead.
A series of rapid clicks emerged from the darkened tunnel, darting back and forth like orders being shouted, before falling briefly silent. Lynx glanced over and saw the stone mage silhouetted against the fire circling its kin’s
hand. As he watched, a walnut-sized chunk of stone darted out into the dark along with a second stream of fire. This time something alive was struck, the brief wash of flames illuminating a bulky body.
It reeled and flipped over and away from the fire, a chatter of furious clicks emanating from it. Larger than a man but hunched, a pale belly and darker limbs, that glimpse alone enough to remind Lynx of the stories he’d heard. Thick, blade-like limbs and a great maw of teeth – blind, but able to sense their prey and move with deadly speed.
Again the creatures disappeared into the darkness, but the Wisps seemed to know where they were still and one flash of movement drew an arrow from Kas as the warriors continued their barrage of fire and stone. Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it was over and all went still. Lynx blinked at the darkness and noticed how sweaty his hand was against the stock of his gun, wiping it on his coat before scanning the tunnel ahead for movement.
‘They’re gone,’ Toil announced as the warriors straightened and one padded back down to where the labourers waited.
‘Sure?’ Lynx asked, his mouth dry.
‘They are,’ she said with a nod at the Wisps. ‘Good enough for me, they’re the experts.’
‘Will they come back?’
‘Doubt it. Think there were only a few and we winged some.’
‘How can you tell?’ Kas asked, relaxing the tension on her bow.
‘The sound. They make a crackling sound when you pierce their carapace.’
‘I didn’t hear that.’
Toil shrugged and started back down the rubble to fetch her pack. ‘Was your first time, you’ll miss a lot.’
‘Those were maspids?’ Kas pressed.
‘Aye, but just a few of ’em and they weren’t expecting us. If they’re the ones doing the ambushing, they’re a whole lot nastier.’
‘Anything we need to know for next time?’
Toil stopped. ‘They’re quick,’ she said after a moment’s thought. ‘Quick and tough, but they die like everything else. If they charge, shoot ’em. If you miss, get the fuck out the way.’