by Tom Lloyd
‘What, then?’
‘On my desk there are your release papers, signed and sealed. A man could easily rob me and escape out of the window should he want.’
‘I don’t understand. Is this a test?’
‘No. If you want to go, go. If you stay another two weeks, I’ll give you clothes and a horse, a sword too.’
‘Why not now?’
‘Because I want to be sure you’ll not be killed or hanged a few miles down the road. Best you get used to sleeping out of a cell before you head into the wilds by yourself.’ Lorfen nodded towards the window, currently shuttered. ‘Thought you might want to watch the dawn tomorrow, nothing like the darkness for making a man appreciate the sun’s rise. If you’re gone in the morning, it’s with my good wishes – and there’s nothing worth stealing in here that I wasn’t going to give you anyway.’
Lorfen gave him a long, studied look while Lynx tried to think of something to say. Eventually it was clear the prisoner had no words so the governor simply shrugged and pulled a plain silver ring from his finger, pointedly setting it on the desktop.
‘In the morning, I’ll tell you what the ring means. Sleep well.’
He left, taking care to put the key in the inside of the lock before he went. Lynx stared at the closed door a long while after Lorfen had left before finally getting up to lock himself in. That done he sank down in the battered armchair that stood to one side of the desk, gnawing on one knuckle and staring for an hour or more at the ring in the lamplight. He slept badly, eventually making a nest of clothing for himself in the corner of the room. When he realised the first glow of dawn was creeping past the shutters Lynx wrapped Lorfen’s cloak around his shoulders and dragged the chair in front of the window.
When it came, dawn was magnificent. The sun burst through the clouds lingering at the horizon, golden fire erupting up through the sky as the Skyriver’s cold hue turned orange and pink. It wasn’t just a new day to Lynx but a whole new world. Haloed in the soft yellow light of winter it seemed to suffuse his whole being, filling his body with a warmth he’d forgotten long ago.
Chapter 23
‘Wake up, sunshine.’
The whispered words filtered slowly into Lynx’s mind, at first coming in Lorfen’s accent before they were repeated in a honey-rich woman’s voice. Lynx wrenched around as panic flooded his body, hands flailing for a weapon only for his wrist to be grabbed in a strong grip. He hauled himself up, his free hand clawed and grabbing at his assailant’s throat with such ferocity he slammed her backwards before his eyes could even focus.
Something jerked Lynx bodily back. He released the throat and tried to turn, but before he could a hasty punch rocked his head. Lynx blinked and realised it was Toil standing in front of him. He opened his mouth to speak just as Reft’s massive arm slipped around his chest and hauled him up in the air, squeezing the air from his lungs, but Toil saw the change in his face.
‘Reft, wait!’
The pressure on his chest lessened and Lynx wheezed. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Oh yeah,’ Kas said in a lazy drawl from behind Toil. ‘I forgot to mention, Lynx is kinda twitchy in his sleep. You might want to be careful how you wake him.’
Despite everything, a wicked grin flashed across Toil’s face. ‘Hey, thanks for the warning. I’ll watch out for that.’
Toil released her grip on his wrist and cocked her head at Lynx while Reft withdrew his arm. She pursed her lips and blew him a mocking kiss. ‘Looks like you needed a proper wake-up anyway. It’s time to go,’ she said as she turned away.
Lynx looked around and realised the others were already pulling their packs on their backs. ‘Gods,’ he muttered as he scrubbed his hands over his face and fetched his kit, ‘how long did I sleep?’
‘Four hours,’ Sitain said, offering him a weak smile. The young woman was looking far from hale, but there was some colour in her cheeks now and she was standing steady. ‘Sun’s just gone down.’
‘You’re good?’
She nodded and raised her borrowed pistol. ‘Good enough.’
‘Looks like the Charnelers got here before us,’ Teshen announced as Lynx readied himself. ‘There’s a stretch more’n a hundred yards long that’s been burned, recently enough that a few trees are still going. We didn’t see anyone but couldn’t poke our heads out far either and there’s a couple of hundred vantage points round here. Might be they passed through, might be they’re waiting. Rest of the ground’s got decent cover, enough to get us across and cloud’s coming over.’
‘We go as one?’
‘Pairs. There’s wildlife all over the place, any sharpshooters won’t want to reveal their positions shooting at the first thing that moves. We take it slow and make as little noise as we can.’
‘And remember,’ Toil broke in, ‘the bad things mostly come out at night. First person to shoot might attract the worst attention. Leave the travois too, it’ll make too much noise and we can’t use it beyond the rift anyway. Anyone who falls behind gets left behind, that’s the rule for relic hunters. Anyone doesn’t like it can stay and die with the injured.’
‘That’s reassuring,’ Sitain muttered.
‘I never said this’d be fun, so watch your step and try not to get shot. I’ll probably feel a little bit bad as I go on without you.’
They crept out as slowly as they could, Teshen dismantling the tripwire that had been laid across the doorway and pocketing the grenade once he’d deactivated it. Outside, the moonlight cast stark shadows, the jagged tangle of thick cover both worrying and reassuring Lynx. He knew how easy it would be to miss a Charneler or maspid ambush – hells, another of those damn centipedes could be lurking and he’d never see it – but at the same time, any watching Charnelers would be struggling to pick out details in the chaotic mass of shadows.
‘Lantern,’ Toil whispered back to Sitain.
The young woman looked alarmed for a moment then remembered she was carrying the small Duegar lamp the Wisps had given her. One brief twist and so far as Lynx could tell nothing happened, but Sitain looked satisfied with the result. He reminded himself the mage’s eyes were far more sensitive to the strange light and concentrated on the matter in hand instead.
Moving to the edge of the arcade, the mercenaries peered out at the steep sloping walls of the rift. The long mournful calls of mountain owls drifted along the valley floor on a breeze that carried the bitter scent of ashes. Thin trails of smoke spiralled up from the scoured section, picked out by the light of the Skyriver. The mercenaries spent a long while standing at the edge there, letting their eyes acclimatise to the contrast of light and dark and watching for any movement or noise that might betray an ambush.
‘Anything?’ breathed Anatin to his scouts, who crouched just ahead of the rest.
‘No,’ they said in turn without moving. Both Teshen and Kas remained where they were a minute or so longer and clearly Anatin knew not to disturb them further. They would be satisfied when they were satisfied.
Lynx contented himself with looking at the path they would have to walk, leaving the sharper eyes to look up. They were no more than twenty yards from the edge of the burned stretch. Presumably because if they had to sprint it would be good to have more open ground near at hand. The stink of burned vegetation overlaid everything else there while the jutting bones of charred branches cast an ominous feeling over the ash carpet. From somewhere he thought he could detect the scent of night jasmine when the air stilled and the smell of ash receded, but it was too faint for Lynx to know if it was true or just wishful thinking. Or a rogue memory of the first time he’d seen Toil.
‘You?’ Teshen whispered at last.
‘No,’ Kas replied. ‘Just those odd scuffs that could’ve been anything.’
‘Agreed.’ He straightened and turned to face the rest, hidden beneath the crooked branch of some sort of stunted pine. ‘Kas and me first, follow where we go. Then Anatin and Toil, then Lynx and Ashis. Varain next with Reft and Sitain last
since you’re likely to make the most noise. If anyone starts shooting we’ll do what we can to cover you – your choice on how fast you come.’
‘But we know they’ve got grenades,’ Toil added darkly. ‘So if they start shooting, fucking run for it.’
That left a cold sensation on Lynx’s neck, but there was nothing for him to do beyond watch Teshen and Kas creep forward through a meandering path of shadows. Trees and bushes both served as cover, and for one whole stretch they went on their hands and knees to keep inside the thick black shadow cast by an amorphous clump of bramble. Lynx found his hands tightening around his gun stock as he thought he saw a movement half a dozen levels above them, but before he could be sure of anything it was gone. Part of him wanted to raise his gun and fire, to send an icer into the black overhang, but not only would that announce their presence it would trace a line back directly to where he stood.
‘They’re there,’ Anatin breathed, shifting position.
‘Keep hold o’ yourself a minute more,’ Toil warned. ‘Long and slow is how we like it, boys.’
She slipped her gun strap over her head and settled it behind her to be sure it wasn’t going to snag on anything. At last she deemed it time to move and crept forward, just as quiet as Teshan and Kas, while Anatin moved slowly and steadily behind her. The ageing mercenary wasn’t as stealthy as Toil, but was happy to let her get ahead and pick his path forward as silently as he could.
At last he made it across and again the next pair waited for their turn. Ashis’s hand was twitching and Lynx reached out to take hold of it and remind the woman to keep still. He received a furious look in response, but she was enough of a soldier to recognise she had the jitters and try to control it.
After a longer pause she set out, walking hunched over to pass under the first few branches. Lynx allowed a fair gap before following, under the branches then across the madcap black lines cast by a spray of shoots growing from the base of a fallen tree. He avoided looking up, knowing his pale skin would catch the light, but saw Ashis take a few anxious glances. He hissed as softly as he could to warn her, but the woman didn’t seem to notice.
Ashis kept going at a steady pace and Lynx was struck with a sense of foreboding as he followed. There was a mounting tension in her body that was making her heavy-footed – he had no choice but to follow her but he felt his heart quicken with every step.
It happened almost dead centre, as far from cover as it was possible to be. Ashis glanced up again as she moved out from under a tree and into the shadow of a high mound of grass. Her foot snagged a root as she went and the jolt twisted her round sideways.
There was a moment where everything paused. Ashis suddenly was in the full glare of the moon’s light, her face turned up towards the sloped canyon wall, mouth open in a cut-off cry. Then her balance went and she toppled backwards, arms wheeling as she hit the ground with a clatter.
Lynx’s hand went to his gun, but then he stopped. Returning fire from out in the open was a stupid waste of time. There was a long moment of quiet and for a heartbeat he thought they’d got away with it – that their caution had been unwarranted. Then the gunshots came.
The whipcrack of icers rang out from left and right. Lynx instinctively ducked down as the white trails lanced down from the slopes of the rift. The clutter of shadows ahead of him was slashed through by the icers’ chill breath, four, then six then eight. Puffs of dirt erupted on all sides of Ashis as she threw herself over to try and scramble to her feet. As the first volley finished Lynx broke into a run, barrelling his way towards her and not waiting for Ashis to get upright.
She was on her hands and knees when he reached her. Lynx grabbed Ashis by the scruff of the neck and kept running. She yelped in surprise but kicked down at the ground as hard as she could to keep upright while Lynx dragged her along. Up ahead one of the mercenaries poked a gun barrel out of the shadows and fired upwards. A corkscrewing blade of light streaked down towards them as Lynx ducked his head and kept pounding onwards. The sparker was followed by two icers as more shots crashed down around them, then Lynx saw the blessed sight of Anatin lean out and level a mage-pistol.
Lynx closed his eyes just in time, but the searing light of the light-bolt cut a streak across his eyelids all the same. He stumbled forward, blinking at the phantoms of light and shade lurching before his eyes and barrelling on towards the sound of his comrades’ guns. All around them the deadly whisper of icers flew, heralded by distant crashes. A smear of orange washed high across his vision and Lynx ducked instinctively. Panic filled his mind but the searing heat of fire didn’t strike him and he realised the burner’s power had faded before it could burst.
The range of the icers was another matter. Just as his eyes started to clear Ashis howled in pain and crashed to the ground. Lynx tightened his grip and drove on, hauling her bodily across the ground, a roar of determination welling up from his gut. Ten yards from safety, however, the injured woman was snagged on something and Lynx jerked to a sudden halt. His shout turned to fury as he heaved with all his strength to pull her free – just as Ashis slipped a knife and slashed at the bandolier that had hooked on a branch.
The two mercenaries flew forward and fell in an untidy heap. The ground where they’d been standing burst under the impact of three icers and showered them with dirt. Lynx found himself half-pinned by Ashis, who was gasping in pain. He realised she’d been shot in the foot, a tell-tale dusting of frost around the puncture wound that now started to leak blood.
Before he could fight his way upright and make a decision about leaving her, a great pale shape swooped into view, surrounded by shadow. For a moment he felt a surge of alarm, thinking it a Wisp hunter descending for the kill, then one of Reft’s huge arms scooped Ashis up and barrelled on. Close behind him was Sitain keening in fear and Varain reaching for Lynx to help him up. A cloud of dark seemed to surround the young woman, the light of the Skyriver and moon dimming as Sitain slowed alongside Varain.
Lynx felt an immediate heaviness in his limbs and realised the danger. He shoved Sitain backwards and scrambled clear of her, trusting that shroud of night magic to make it harder for the Charnelers to get a clear bead on any of them. It took a long few seconds for Lynx to regain his balance, but then Varain was waving Sitain forward and together they raced for the cover of the far side. As they staggered into the darkness beyond, an ear-splitting boom rang out behind them and Lynx turned to see a writhing ball of light burst over the rift floor.
The mercenaries all scrambled back as spitting sparks raced in all directions, savagely lashing branches and casting a jagged light over everything. The spark-grenade’s claws seemed to surge towards them, hissing and scraping all around the stone pillars they’d run between but falling short of catching the mercenaries themselves. The searing light convulsed in the way sparkers always did, seemingly fighting with itself for a while longer before it tore itself apart and the darkness rushed back in.
Panting, Lynx squinted through at the rift beyond. The light of Anatin’s light-bolt still shone down from wherever it had struck up the rift wall, but he knew it wouldn’t last long and not all of the Charnelers had lost their night vision.
‘Up,’ Anatin croaked, ‘all of you, on your feet.’
‘Ashis is hurt,’ Kas said.
The Prince of Sun lurched forward and grabbed Ashis by her jacket, pulling her upright. ‘You’ll walk or you’ll die,’ Anatin growled, slipping an arm around her waist.
‘I’ll bloody well walk out of here,’ Ashis panted. She gripped Anatin’s shoulder with one hand and pulled her mage-gun free with the other to use as a walking stick. ‘What’re you all waiting for then?’
Toil activated her lantern again then looked around at the near-black hallway ahead of them. There were doorways leading off in several directions as far as Lynx could see, the vaulted roof highest over an overgrown statue or fountain in the centre. From somewhere he could hear a low babble of sound, a colony of bats he guessed. It wasn’t the bri
ef, specific sound of the maspids but a formless hubbub he’d heard before in their roosting sites. As though to confirm the thought, the sharp smell of guano drifted on the air towards them.
‘Pick a door, any door,’ Toil muttered, gun in hand as she looked from one to the next.
All three were the same size, about twelve feet high and almost as wide. Toil moved closer, her lantern swinging from her waist and, once she was just a few yards from the first, Lynx seemed to be able to see a faint outline of the room beyond.
‘That one,’ Sitain said, pointing a shaking hand towards the left-hand doorway.
‘You’re sure?’
‘The rest are tunnels.’
Lynx raised an eyebrow then remembered how her eyesight was far better. ‘Rig a tripwire here?’ he asked instead.
Kas looked down at the doorway. ‘Nothing obvious to hook it to,’ she said. ‘Let’s not waste the time.’
Beyond the doorway was a tall tunnel with empty alcoves set at regular points along it and a pair of tiny side chambers exactly halfway down. They neared the far end and a sense of space and cool air seemed to loom ahead of them. The reek of droppings was a slap in the face now, the sharp-sour smell as harsh as vomit at the back of his throat. The crazed chatter wasn’t so intrusive, but it made him worry for what it might mask.
‘Shattered gods!’ Ashis hissed, retching slightly. ‘Filthy fucking flying rats.’
Varain hawked and spat. ‘Aye, like Deern’s here with us and brought his whole stinking family too.’
‘Stow it,’ Anatin said. ‘Sitain, what do you see?’
‘Huge chamber, lots of rubble,’ Sitain whispered.
‘There a way through?’
‘I think. Watch your footing though, there’s shit everywhere.’
Lynx experienced a sudden sense of foreboding. Big chambers are crossroads here, he thought to himself, and we’ve just announced our presence. Working by feel alone he slipped the icer from his gun and replaced it with a burner.