The Deliverer

by Sharon Hinck

  Jake gave me a one-armed squeeze. “Mom, weren’t you listening? We’re doing Huck Finn.”

  I shook my head, and the hood shifted, blocking my vision. I tugged it back into place. The fabric over my nose and mouth made me claustrophobic and short of breath.

  Mark helped me adjust it again. “Do you remember the way back to the kitchen? Just get us there and we’ll follow the water channel out to the river.”

  There were more things wrong with that plan than I could count. I was a poorly costumed assassin, about to guide my prisoners through confusing cave passages, when I’d never had any navigational abilities, all so we could jump into slimy cave water and swim into the dark unknown under a mountain of crushing rock.

  I crouched and checked the straps of the soft-soled footwear I’d borrowed from Voronja. “Guys, we need to rethink this.” If we just took some time to brainstorm, we’d come up with a more sensible plan. We had to.

  Mark tugged me to my feet. “We have to move. We’ll walk in front, but you have to make it look like you’re in charge. Remember, you’re a master assassin.”

  Suddenly the kitchen knife in my arm holster felt reassuring. I pulled the mask portion of the hood away from my face so I could take one last deep breath. One step at a time. Get to the kitchen. If I thought beyond that, I’d give up now.

  Mark used Voronja’s scrambler to unlock the door, then shot me a worried look.

  I answered with a sharp nod. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter

  22

  Susan

  Mark and Jake moved into the outer room. Once again the reflective pool captured the threads of blue light from the curved cave walls and created dizzying patterns.

  Jake crouched beside the pool. “Maybe we should see if there’s a passage we could follow from here. I could dive down and feel for an opening.”

  Mark shook his head. “If we had scuba gear and some lights, maybe. But we have no way of knowing if we could hold our breath long enough to reach the next place with air. And if there’s a current, we might not be able to get back.”

  Jake stirred the water. “It’s not too cold. I could check it out.”

  I shuddered. Death by drowning was one of my worst nightmares. We were not going to dive into a dark pool and explore some narrow underwater passage that might close in and trap us. I grabbed Jake’s arm and yanked him away from the pool’s edge. “Forget it. Kitchen it is. At least there the channel had headspace with air.”

  “At least the part we could see.” Mark said darkly.

  “You”—I pointed at my husband—“stop being so negative. And you”—I swung my gaze to my son—“no more crazy ideas. This is going to be hard enough. Now lead the way.”

  Mark grinned at Jake. “She’s getting the hang of acting like a Kahlarean master.”

  He snorted. “She’s a mom. There are similarities.”

  I cuffed him on the shoulder, then spared a precious second to grab him in a tight hug.

  “How did you know?” Jake asked. “How did you find me?”

  “And what’s happening in the clans? You said—”

  “Later,” Mark cut in. “We need to move.”

  A million questions chased around my brain, but Mark was right, conversation would have to wait.

  We headed into the maze of underground corridors, and I followed Mark and Jake, trying to look like I was marching my captives to some important destination. I’d never been more grateful for Mark’s sense of direction. After two turns, I was completely lost, but he never slowed. I recognized the channel where we crossed using stepping stones, but other than that, I had to put my faith in him. A row of young assassin trainees raced past us, so focused on their run that they didn’t give us more than a glance.

  I tugged my hood lower on my forehead. Anyone looking closely would surely see that my eyes were too small for a Kahlarean.

  “Hurry,” I whispered.

  Mark led us to the arched opening of the large training area. “Don’t panic now. You’re doing great,” he murmured. “Act natural.”

  Right. And how was I supposed to know what was natural for a Kahlarean master assassin? I peered into the arena. Our path followed the semi-circle of the cavern’s upper level. We’d be as exposed as actors on a stage until we reached the right hallway and could retreat into the smaller darker paths. “We can’t walk through here. Isn’t there another way?”

  Mark shot a quick look at Jake, who gave a small shrug. Apparently he hadn’t roamed these caves during his captivity. We’d have to continue retracing our path to the dining hall. This was a terrible idea, but I didn’t have any other suggestions to offer.

  Jake’s Adam’s apple bobbed. Mark focused on the far side of the training hall and the opening that was our goal. I lifted my arm to gesture them forward, and felt the weight of the unfamiliar wrist holster. My heart pounded so hard the cave walls seemed to thrum with the beat. At least once we started moving again the trembling in my legs wasn’t as obvious.

  We took a few steps. Any second the nearby Kahlareans would come running—surround us, drop from the ceiling like bats, pierce us with dozens of venblades.

  We took another cautious step. Mark dropped his gaze and moved forward with as quick a pace as would appear normal.

  We made it ten more yards. The path that followed the semi-circle above the main floor of the arena seemed to stretch forever. I forced myself not to look to the side. Still I sensed the activity of the trainees: the near lethal hand-to-hand combat, the crackle of syncbeams, the swordplay, the balancing exercises. Perhaps all the chaos and activity would be enough distraction and no one would notice us. Another twenty yards.

  We passed the first opening leading away from the arena. I wanted to duck down that hall and run, but this wasn’t the exit that would lead us to our goal.

  We passed the next opening leading from the arena, but Mark didn’t slow.

  How much farther? I vaguely remembered skirting most of the room when we’d come through here. I wanted to duck into the next hall. Anything to get away from our exposed position. My muscles tightened so much that I shrank in size. Good. That would aid my disguise. Even though I was smaller than Mark and Jake, the Kahlarean’s uniform was still ill-fitting.

  Too terrified to spare any more glances around, I focused on Mark’s back and on keeping my footing on the slick, uneven surface.

  A breath of movement registered behind me. “Master, did you dispose of the annoying woman? Will you require any more help from me with the other prisoner?”

  Trennor! The folds of fabric over my mouth trapped my small gasp. Mark glanced back, and I caught a flash of panic in his face before he turned and forged onward. I ignored Trennor and quickened my pace. The youth scampered more quickly and pulled alongside me.

  We reached another branching hallway and I waved toward it, hoping Trennor would take my gesture as an order to leave.

  He didn’t take the hint, but dogged our steps. “I’ve finished my courses today, so if you . . .”

  I tried again to shoo him away. Ahead, Mark’s shoulders hunched and he walked even faster, each long stride getting us closer to the right exit. Fifty yards to go.

  Determination pushed aside my panic.

  I caught up to Jake and gave a small push against his back.

  Move, move, move.

  Light footsteps sprinted past all three of us. Trennor faced us, blocking our path. Ten yards from our goal. The scolopendra fang swung from a string around his neck. “Wait, you’re—”

  Mark barreled ahead, straight into Trennor. The shock kept him from calling out, but I no longer had hope that we could avoid the attention of others in the arena. With Mark half-charging, we pushed Trennor ahead of us and down the corridor. Mark slugged him and eased the boy’s unconscious body to the rock floor before stepping over him. I sidestepp
ed around him. “Sorry,” I whispered.

  “Hurry,” Mark said. “They’ll be right behind us.” The tension of our careful walk snapped in a release of panic. No more time for disguises and subtleties. We ran for all we were worth.

  Mark and Jake sprinted along the passageway. I swiveled my head to check for signs of pursuit, and when I faced forward, the hood and mask stayed behind, blinding me. Lurching into the wall, I kept running while clawing at the fabric until I could see again. Mark stopped until I caught up to him with stumbling steps. I grabbed his hand and we ran again, following Jake.

  “Almost there,” Mark said.

  Breathing hard, I gave a quick nod. Just one old cook left to get past. Unless the dining hall was full of young, lethal assassins. I shook the thought away. We rounded a corner and burst into the dining hall, which was mercifully empty.

  I dropped Mark’s hand, rested my hands on my thighs and fought to catch my breath. The two men tore into the kitchen area, and by the time I caught up, Anataz the cook was on the floor.

  “Okay, Huck.” I glanced around the kitchen for inspiration. “What do we use as a raft?”

  “No time.” Mark stared at the channel of water where we’d tossed kitchen scraps a few hours ago. He grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze. “We’re going for a swim.”

  Opaque water disappeared into the darkness and the rock closed in around the channel. My throat closed as if I were already drowning, but there was no way back now.

  Jake sat on the edge and slipped quietly into the murky water. Mark helped me to the edge and sat beside me. “Ready?” he asked.

  I ripped off the entangling hooded mask and tossed it aside, then eased into the channel.

  The water was cool but not icy. I thanked the One for the temperate climate of this world. In the darkness it felt like black oil against my skin. Swimming laps at our local YMCA had done nothing to prepare me for this, but I took off after Jake, with Mark following. The pale illumination coming from thin threads of darnite in the rock gave only enough light to be disorienting. From somewhere behind us, we heard a splash. “Let’s go,” Mark said. “They’re following.”

  I launched into my best front crawl, desperation adding muscle to my flutter kicks. As the walls drew closer, the current spend up. I stopped propelling myself forward and instead concentrated on dodging boulders. I flew past one low outcropping, barely avoiding a concussion.

  Would this channel close in even further, drowning us in the fierce pull of water and surrounding rock that cut off all air? Maybe this was how Jonah felt in the belly of the fish. All darkness, water, and slime. Terrified and buried.

  Holy One, will You resurrect us?

  The water propelled us even faster, and I held my breath, bobbing beneath the surface of the water now to avoid the lowering ceiling. When my lungs felt like they would explode, I thrust my face up for a gasp of air, but caught some water. I coughed and sputtered the brackish taste from my mouth. At least I caught a glimpse of Jake swimming strongly up ahead. I twisted to look for Mark behind me, but the force of the current tossed me sideways. Ricocheting along the narrow channel, I bruised my shoulders as I bumped the left wall of stone and then the right.

  The next time I was able to surface, Jake’s head was more clearly silhouetted. There was a hint of light ahead! Perhaps we were finally going to emerge from the mountain. Anything to get out from under the oppressive weight of tons of rock overhead. I craved the soft dove-grey sky and fresh air, trees, and grass. And I never wanted to see another Kahlarean.

  I tried a few breaststrokes, fueled by new hope. Maybe we wouldn’t be pulled into an airless tube of water, sucked into the bowels of the world to drown. After all, Kahlareans were pursuing us, and they wouldn’t bother if this channel led to certain death. Maybe this river would set us free on land, where we would have a chance to get back to the clans.

  Stalactites dangled inches above the water, and I quickly pulled my head under again. With my one hand in front, and one above my head, I gingerly tested for space before coming back up for breath. I’d rather break a hand than my skull.

  The channel seemed to widen, although there was a strange dark emptiness in the center of the passage ahead. My body continued to race forward, carried by the current, and I saw Jake bob and surface and cut to the right. The image of my son being carried away on a current touched a primal fear. I stroked against the water trying to catch him.

  Suddenly my eyes were able to interpret the space I’d thought was dull emptiness. It was a huge rock formation cutting the channel in two. I pulled harder, desperate to head to the right, but the current tossed me left and past the dividing point.

  I’d lost Jake.

  I turned, trying to swim against the current, but I was already yards and yards farther downstream. Where was the right hand branch going to carry Jake? And where was this left hand branch carrying me? And where was Mark? I could no longer see him behind me.

  Hopefully these channels reconnected into one river. I definitely saw light up ahead. I concentrated on not choking on the churning water, bringing my head up in a regular rhythm to gasp in some air. Light framed an arched opening, but I couldn’t see what happened to the water once it passed that archway and headed into the light.

  My body flew out into space and plummeted.

  The drop was only about twenty feet, but it felt as dramatic to me as the plunge of a cliff diver—without the grace. I hit the water with an awkward smack that knocked the last of my breath out of me, and I sank. As pebbles grazed my cheek, I got my feet under me and pushed upward toward to the light. For one dizzying moment I feared that I’d lost all sense of which direction was up, and that I was pushing myself deeper. But then I broke the surface.

  The water eddied and pulled, and I swam weakly to the land across the river. I wasn’t sure where I was, but I knew I wanted to be on the far side from the enclave’s mountain. If this were the river that fed Cauldron Falls, I’d need to be on this side to reach clan territory.

  I dragged myself onto the riverbank and collapsed, choking, gagging, but grateful to be alive, to have escaped the battering rocks, then the fall, and the million and one things that could have gone wrong. When I mustered the strength, I eased myself up to sit and stare at the opening where the water continued to pour from the mountain, waiting for Mark to emerge and tumble down.

  I waited and waited, but there was no sign of him.

  I wrung water out of my shirt and shook it a few times. Don’t panic. Mark and Jake emerged a little farther upstream. They’re fine. You’ll find them.

  Moving my focus from the cavern entrance, I squinted to study the river farther upstream. A dark shape floated in the water, and I gasped. A body? Had the Kahlareans caught up with Mark or Jake and murdered him? Or had an assassin found me?

  I staggered to my feet and moved to the edge of the river. No, just a log. Relief washed over me, but lasted only a moment. I pushed wet, tangled hair back from my face and scanned the trees and river in all directions. Realization weighed down my spirit like my soaking clothes weighed down my body.

  I was alive, but alone.

  Chapter

  23

  Linette

  “We should leave for Lyric today.” Lukyan straightened, leaning on his walking stick. His eyes seemed abnormally bright, almost feverish.

  Of anyone in Braide Wood, Lukyan was the one who had felt most familiar to me, the most safe. But his reaction to the boy in my arms scared me. I’d never seen him so agitated.

  Tara brought him a mug of water. “So his family is from Lyric? In the name of all the clans, what were they thinking to leave him behind?”

  He ignored the proffered drink. “No, no. Don’t you see? He’s—”

  The boy slipped from my lap and tugged on Lukyan’s robe. When the elder songkeeper looked down, the child gave a small shake of his head.


  Lukyan stared at him quietly for a moment, then drew a deep breath. “We need to take him to the tower,” he said in a calmer tone.

  I longed to visit the worship tower, to commune with the One and feel the brush of his presence on my face. Perhaps, too, the last pieces in my memory would return once I could spend time there. But if the child weren’t from Lyric, moving him there would make it harder for his family to find him.

  Tara must have been thinking the same thing. She frowned at Lukyan. “So you don’t know him? Then I’ll care for him until we find his family. We don’t want to take him too far from here. Whoever he belongs with, surely they’ll be back to search for him.”

  “I’m not able to explain right now, but I’m taking him to Lyric.”

  My brows rose. Rarely had I heard such a sharp edge to his voice.

  Tara planted fists on her hips. “You know how much confusion is going on in the city. I won’t let you drag him to such a dangerous place.”

  Watching Tara and Lukyan square off was like seeing two gentle caradoc suddenly grow claws and fangs. The boy’s chin dropped, and his shoulders curled forward.

  Perhaps I’d grown some claws of my own, because protective instincts welled up in me, and I bristled. “Stop it! You’re upsetting him,” I said, more harshly than I’d intended.

  Tara and Lukyan both blinked as they looked at me. I pulled the boy close and tucked him behind me. I was the one who had found him. I would make decisions about the next step. “I think—”

  Scrambling sounds at the door interrupted. Dustin shoved the door aside and came running in. “Wade’s been hurt. He was training first-years on the plateau and had a fall. Got trampled.”

  Wade. I tested the newly unwrapped parts of my memory. He’d been a childhood friend, a gentle, lumbering giant of a youth. A few weeks past, he’d come to see me and had seemed particularly sad that I couldn’t remember my past life in Braide Wood.