The Way Into Darkness: Book Three of The Great Way

by Harry Connolly

  Tiny hands pressed against his legs and the shield on his back, holding him up. The grunt bellowed out its death cry—Ghoron needed to create a stone that cured the beasts before they could make a ruckus about it—and Tejohn scrambled forward. He grabbed the butt end of the spear and yanked it from beneath the creature’s body.

  The flames began, but his kinzchu spear was undamaged. The wooden floor smoldered and a burlap sack beneath the grunt’s leg actually caught fire, but a half dozen children charged out of the hole and stamped it out.

  The noise they made was astonishing, their little boots pounding against the wooden floor, their little voices squeaking as they shouted, “Out! Out! Out!”

  Fire and Fury, did they have no one to watch over them? Tejohn grabbed the one who looked oldest. “Where are your parents? Is there no one to watch over you?”

  “We don’t know,” he answered. One of the older girls hurried to hush the youngest—apparently, stamping and shouting was what they’d been taught to do when they saw a fire starting to spread. “Nanny was trying to get us to the Marsh Gate, but there were monsters in the way. She told us to hide in there until she found a way to get us out. That was yesterday.”

  His eyes were hollow and his face pale. He knew their guardian was not coming back, even if he couldn’t say so aloud in front of the little ones.

  The stink of the chamber pot wafted up the stairs. The youngest had already shouted in unison, and white plumes of smoke billowed through the holes in the roof. Monument sustain them all, the grunts would be here soon.

  Tejohn’s first instinct was to hide them again, but the expression on the boy’s face changed his mind instantly. He couldn’t ask them to squat in that dark sewer, not when the enemy was coming. If Tejohn could find them, the grunts could. And how could he ask them to hide again, knowing he might never come back?

  Great Way, they were so small.

  And there it was again. His old fury rekindled; it came on him so suddenly, his skin crawled. He didn’t need the memory of his own dead child, still as painful as a hot iron after so many years, and he didn’t need to think of his own living children far beyond his reach. He couldn’t do anything for them. Not now.

  “Line up!” Tejohn snapped. He didn’t shout. He didn’t have to. The children, from youngest to oldest, turned toward him with wide eyes. The eldest had to be that boy of about fourteen. The youngest couldn’t have been more than seven. He pointed at the girl who had shushed the others. “You, arrange them with the tallest near the door. Quickly!”

  While they scrambled to obey, Tejohn went to the door. There was no sign that anyone or anything was coming toward them. He began collecting the spears.

  Spears for children. I must be going mad.

  But there was no other choice. He had to give them kinzchu spears; the alternative was nothing.

  From far in the distance, he heard another chorus of roaring. He didn’t know what all that noise meant, but he knew it wasn’t good. He ducked back into the warehouse.

  Tejohn walked down the line, giving each child a spear. Fury guide them, their hands were so small. “These are called kinzchu spears.” He bent down low and showed them the stone strapped into the end of his spear. “You just have to touch them. Grunts. Wizards. Anyone. Just touch them with that stone and it steals the magic right out of their body. See?”

  He gestured behind them, and they all turned just in time to see a figure stirring within the pile of ashes in the corner. He moved around them just as he realized it was a woman. An elderly woman, in fact, and as naked as the day she began her journey on The Way.

  A few of the children snickered, but Tejohn ignored them. He hurried forward and took her elbow, helping her to her feet. She coughed a few times, then stared at her ash-covered hands. “Is it over?” she asked.

  “Not yet,” Tejohn said. He still had three spears in his hands; he gave one to her. “That’s not a walking stick.”

  “Mister,” the oldest boy called, “who are you?”

  “At the moment, I’m no one at all. Maybe, if I can get you all through this, I might earn my name back. Now, form a wedge.” They didn’t understand. “Form two lines on me. Two tallest kids behind me. Next two tallest at the rear of each line. Smallest children in between.” While they organized that, Tejohn turned. “Grandmother, I need you to stand inside the wedge. You’re going to help protect the little ones.”

  The elderly woman looked uncertain for a moment, then nodded and took up position between the kids at the backs of the lines. If nothing else, her filthy, naked form made the kids face outward.

  And she held her head up. It would have been easy—expected, even—for her to demand they all look away until she found a robe, but she didn’t. He nodded to her and she nodded back.

  Tejohn did not have to tell them to hold their spears outward; the older children understood and the younger followed their example. Now all he had to do was cure enough grunts to create a wedge of full-grown soldiers.

  The extra spear Tejohn laid against the door jamb, then unslung his shield. The street still appeared to be quiet and empty, but the quiet only made his hair stand on end. Had the grunts missed the noise and smoke, or were they so far that he and the children had time to slip away?

  He turned around. “We move quickly and quietly. If we see a grunt, stand your ground. All you have to do is touch them, all right? With luck, we’ll make it all the way to the holdfast without even seeing one.”

  They nodded at him, wide-eyed. They were terrified.

  Tejohn realized he was holding his spear in a white-knuckled grip and forced himself to relax. He needed to stay loose, move quickly, and keep quiet. That’s what it would take to destroy every threat these children were facing. He knelt in the doorway and peered outward again. The street was empty.

  He stepped through the door smoothly, coming down the steps onto the stony ground as quietly as possible. The children, as they followed, failed to lower their points and struck the shafts against the wooden jambs. The older kid’s shushes were louder than the initial impacts, but they figured it out and formed up again. The littlest ones were having trouble holding their spears with the points lowered, but that was fine. With luck, they’d never have to use them. He glanced at the last remaining weapons laying at the entrance to the warehouse. Someone would be coming back for them soon, he hoped.

  The holdfast was on the western side of the pass, as he remembered it, so he started back that way. If only he’d escaped from Twofin lands during the daytime, he might have a better idea where he was going now. The needed to—

  With a deafening shriek, a huge figure leaped into street in front of them. It was one of the gigantic flightless birds Tejohn had seen in the Durdric lands--Great Way, it looked even bigger up close. It must have leaped off a nearby roof; it hadn’t occurred to him to look up, too. The children broke out in screams that sounded eerily like a well-tuned chorus.

  Tejohn raised his shield and thrust his spear forward. The thing leaped back as his blunt spear point shot forward—he only now realized he had not tested it against this monster—and he missed. The beast was two heads taller than he was, at least, but it was also strong enough to leap, bend, and dodge like an acrobat.

  The bird tried to circle him but Tejohn sidestepped to keep himself between it and the children, jabbing and feinting to drive it back. Its beak was huge and heavily curved, with serrations near the back. Its feathers were striped with black and silver--the latter sparkled beautifully in the daylight when it fluttered its tiny wings. By contrast, its huge feet were ugly, mottled things with talons longer than the knife in Tejohn’s belt.

  I can not counterattack a creature this big and dangerous.

  Tejohn lunged and struck as quickly as he could.

  The creature bent sideways, its body turning and twisting as though its joints were gears. It lashed out with one foot, buffeting Tejohn’s shield so hard that he staggered. He yanked his spear back before the creature cou
ld snap the shaft with its beak.

  Tejohn didn’t need to look at his shield to know that it had been deeply scored by that taloned foot. He moved two steps to his right so the creature would try to circle him again, and when it did, he lunged again.

  The huge bird leaped backward and struck a pair of empty barrels at the front of a decrepit hovel. It stepped on one, lost its balance, and fell against the wall, making the whole building shudder.

  Tejohn rushed forward, spear point low.

  The creature lifted its leg with absurd ease, letting the spear head pass beneath it, then kicked. All of Tejohn’s momentum jolted to a halt and he fell back onto the stony ground.

  Get up! Get up! It was already too late. The huge bird had already regained its feet, and Tejohn had somehow lost his grip on his weapon.

  “Yah!” a thin, high voice shouted. It was the girl, the one who had shushed the other children. She rushed forward, kinzchu spear held high. The oldest boy came up right beside her. Both held their spears too close to the head; if the bird charged at them, one or both would surely be gutted.

  The creature responded by screaming long and loud, its razor-sharp beak gaping. The children quailed before it.

  No. Tejohn snatched up his spear and rolled to his feet. “Blessing!” he shouted, catching its attention. The bird lunged at him, beak gaping.

  Tejohn raised his shield high and the beast clamped down on it. Even as it splintered, Tejohn ripped his arm from the straps. The bird wrenched it back, shattering it and throwing it aside. Tejohn fell back, his hand landing on the shaft of his spear.

  The two children retreated in terror, although the boy dared to throw his spear. The creature didn’t even see it coming, but the weapon missed anyway, clattering against the stony street.

  Huge, round, expressionless eyes glaring, The Blessing charged at Tejohn, jaws gaping. He leaped forward to meet it, thrusting the spear at the creature’s chest.

  It dipped its head to bite at the weapon, and Tejohn shifted position to cram the kinzchu stone into its open mouth. The great bird bit down hard, snapping the shaft and yanking the spear out of Tejohn’s hands again.

  The bird reared back, then flung its head to one side, spitting the sheared-off end of the spear onto the street. Then, as if it was suddenly drunk, it wobbled slightly and collapsed.

  Tejohn steadied himself with his broken spear shaft. Fire and Fury, how many times was he going to have to do that? The bird began to tremble, as though overtaken by a seizure, then its feathers began to burn.

  Circling back toward the entrance of the warehouse, Tejohn picked up the sheared-off spearhead. Then he grabbed another spear for himself. Three of the children squatted against the warehouse wall, their spears pointed outward, and the elderly woman stood in front of them. The two who had attacked the bird stared at the fire, almost hypnotized.

  “Good work,” Tejohn said to them, snapping the spell. “Get another spear. Don’t throw them again. And help me round up the other children.”

  They did. The very youngest had found a hiding space inside a servant’s hovel, underneath the cot. It was a fine hiding spot, but she couldn’t stay there. To coax her out, Tejohn had to take a servant’s robe from a peg for the elderly woman. The girl didn’t want to leave on her own, but she was willing to carry clothes outside as a favor to someone else.

  “Great Way,” one of the children exclaimed. Tejohn turned toward the fallen creature. The silvery streaks in its feathers had begun to glow with the same golden light that had floated out of Ghoron Italga’s body like smoke. Then the light became bright like fire, and they all fell back.

  A cloud of white smoke billowed upward, then a huge pair of wings extended out from it. They beat downward, pushing the white smoke straight toward them. Fire and Fury, it smelled like bitter old cinders. Tejohn choked and reeled backward, waving at the children to retreat.

  The flightless bird had shed The Blessing, and it stood restored before them, at least three times larger than before. Great Way, it was huge. Tejohn wished he’d brought at least one sharpened iron spear; the sword at his hip wasn’t going to do him any good at all, especially without a shield.

  The children behind him were screaming, and he felt a little like screaming, too. The thing seemed woozy and confused. Maybe if he rushed it with his sword drawn, he could draw blood and drive it off.

  Except Cazia Freewell had said the ruhgrit were intelligent. She’d said they could talk.

  Tejohn pointed at it, then pointed to the sky. “Fly away,” he said, then pointed at it again, and toward the sky. Take the hint.

  It didn’t fly off, although it kept beating its wings. It did quirk its head to one side like a dog faced with a puzzling new noise. It didn’t understand him.

  Of course. The ruhgrit wouldn’t gesture with their arms. If they gestured at all, they would use—

  The creature suddenly hopped forward, lowered its head, and screamed.

  Goose bumps ran down Tejohn’s back, but it was not screaming directly at him. He turned quickly, hearing more screams behind him, and as he spun about, the kinzchu spear in his hand glanced off the skull of a blue-furred grunt directly behind him.

  The beast collapsed onto the stony ground and rolled away from him. Luck. Only dumb luck had saved him. It bellowed out its death cry, and the children retreated to the wall of the warehouse, their spears held outward.

  Tejohn moved upwind of the grunt just before the flames began. Great Way, please let this one be a soldier.

  The Fire-taken ruhgrit had saved his life. He really was going to have to think up a new name for them.

  The huge bird glared at the kinzchu spear he was holding, then bowed its head toward its feet. There was no mistaking that gesture, and Tejohn felt at least a little satisfaction in realizing they gestured with their heads after all. He turned the spear around and tossed it gently at the ground in front of the eagle.

  The bird scratched at the ground, then did it again. It ducked its head twice, then scratched the ground again. Then again.

  Great Way, it wanted a second spear. Tejohn was reluctant to give it, but it was probably a bad idea to argue with a creature large enough to swallow you in two bites.

  He jogged to the entrance to the warehouse and brought back a second spear, tossing it gently at the creature’s feet without getting too close. The huge eagle took one in each taloned foot, then beat its wings. Tejohn had to shield his eyes from the dust as it lifted off and turned toward the Sweeps. If they were all lucky, the—Fire take him, what was he supposed to call them?—eagles would cure their own people and save Tejohn the trouble.

  The pile of ash beside him stirred. Tejohn had cured this one by nothing more than a random stroke of luck. “Stand up,” he snapped at the figure. It was a young woman. She looked to be in her mid-twenties, and even covered in ash, he could tell she was strikingly beautiful. “Stand up!” he said again, then dragged her to her feet.

  “What…” the woman said, clearly disoriented. “What…” The elderly woman, now wearing a servant’s robe, smoothly took her arm from Tejohn and led her into the nearest hovel.

  Good. Tejohn should have grabbed an extra weapon when he’d grabbed one for the eagle, but it had simply slipped his mind. As he returned to the warehouse entrance, he saw that there were almost none left. “Everyone accounted for?” he asked the older girl.

  “They are.” She handed him a weapon. He took a second.

  “I can’t wear this!” a voice called from the other side of the road. “My father owns the largest copper mine for—”

  The young woman’s tirade was cut short with a sharp slap, followed by a low, urgent, murmuring voice. Tejohn picked up a spear for himself and another for the young woman; if they had to, they could return later for the spears still in the wheelbarrow.

  They emerged in their servant robes, the younger woman looking vaguely ashamed.

  A little girl rapped on the bottom of Tejohn’s cuirass. “We haven’t gott
en very far, have we?”

  Tejohn couldn’t help it. He laughed aloud.

  Chapter 23

  They made slow, halting progress. The children could not stay in formation. The old woman kept demanding they stop so the little ones could rest their tired hands. The young woman complained bitterly about her bare feet.

  Tejohn was sympathetic but he urged them onward. If they could find and cure one more adult, he would feel confident about leaving the lot of them in a little house somewhere. All they needed was a defensible location and enough adults to cover the entrances.

  It didn’t happen. As they moved up the hill, keeping to the widest streets Tejohn could find, they didn’t draw out any more grunts or gigantic black-and-silver birds. The higher they went, the larger and more ornate the houses became--many had been painted white and several even had a second floor.

  But if they did not see any more of The Blessing, they did see a great many of the corpses they’d made.

  “There!” the boy at Tejohn’s right shoulder whispered. He pointed to the southwest, where the Twofin banner was visible over the top of a roof. The holdfast was just ahead. They’d come all the way to the southern end of the pass.

  For a moment, they fell quiet. A rhythmic pounding noise came from the south. Thoom thoom thoom. Tejohn knew exactly what he was hearing, and he was glad of it. Doctor Twofin and who knew how many others were still barricaded inside the holdfast, and the grunts were still trying to get inside. That was why they’d met so few grunts; they were pounding at what must have been the only locked door in all of Saltstone.

  Thoom. Thoom. Thoom. The grunts weren’t even roaring any more.

  Tejohn had to scout the situation. He had to know what the enemy’s numbers where, how they were deployed—assuming beasts like The Blessing deployed at all—and what the state of the holdfast was. If the building was strong, he could hole up until dark. If not, he was going to need some other plan.