Issa shivered too, recalling Asaph’s awful experience in the sacrificial chambers beneath the Temple of Carvon. Was Cirosa here too? She chewed her lip. ‘Where’s it coming from?
‘Asaph!’ she hissed when he moved off at a faster pace. He wasn’t seriously going to take them on, was he? But she already knew the answer. Dear Zanufey, protect us! She touched the raven mark on her chest and hurried after him.
He didn’t seem to care if there was anyone up ahead, and even quickened the pace. The eerie dull chanting grew louder and a distant light appeared.
Asaph took a turn and came to a huge, sealed wooden door with thick metal bars and a grate covering a tiny window. The chanting came from beyond it.
‘The dungeon,’ Asaph mouthed.
‘Luckily we’re on this side,’ whispered Issa, noting the heavy beam across it locking it shut.
‘They would have come in from the other side—this is always sealed shut. I don’t think it will budge without a lot of noise.’ Asaph analysed the beam then pressed his ear against the door.
‘I don’t think they’re directly on the other side but further beyond. The Recollection is dark here and I can’t quite recall the layout ahead.’ He grabbed the beam ready to wrench it, then paused and looked at her. ‘There’s still a chance to get out. If you leave now and go back the way we came, you might be safer on the beach. Once we go through here, there is no going back. There’ll be fighting and…noise. I can’t be sure what the sword will do either. We’ll be heard for certain and hunted from then on. I can keep us safe, for a time.’
Issa thought about turning around and going back alone through all those dark corridors. She couldn’t do it. ‘I promised to stay by your side, even in death.’
He nodded, a strange look in his eyes. ‘You’re the only person to ever say that to me.’
He turned back to the door, his muscles bunched, and he heaved. The beam groaned loudly, lifted an inch, then stuck. Asaph heaved again, and with one short, loud squeak the beam lifted free. He slammed the door with his shoulder and it grunted open, spilling faint light into the tunnel. The ritual chanting became louder, hopefully drowning out the noise they made. They slunk inside, Asaph set the beam down in a dark corner and quietly shut the door.
They crouched in the darkest corner of a cell with chest-high walls topped with bars welded to the ceiling. Adjoining it were more cells, in front of which was a walkway, then another row of cells. At the far end, a brazier illuminated a wider walkway. The stench of urine hung in the air.
The chanting stopped abruptly, and a horrifying screech cut through the air. Issa gasped and clamped her hands over her ears, Asaph reached an arm around her, hugging her close. When the screaming stopped she found herself shaking.
‘Human sacrifice?’ she whispered, not wanting to ask.
Asaph nodded, his face grim. ‘We’ll stop this tonight and forever.’
Two red-robed people stalked around the corner, their faces hidden in their hoods, their robes billowing. Issa and Asaph hunkered down, and she held her breath, wondering if the person just murdered had been inhabiting their cell.
Whimpering came from several other cells as the priests hunted their prey. Large iron keys clanged as they unlocked a cell on the opposite row, followed by terrified echoing screaming as they dragged someone out. Either they couldn’t stand, or they were too small because Issa couldn’t see them from her huddled position. She didn’t want to see them.
‘We have to go now!’ she hissed when the priests had gone.
‘No, it’s too late, we have to plan it,’ said Asaph. ‘I’ve seen this, there could be hundreds of red robes. This isn’t the only cell block, either—when they come again, we’ll take them out and free the others.’
‘But whoever they have now will be dead!’ Issa felt panic rising as the hideous chanting began. The Under Flow moved thickly in that terrible chamber ahead. She couldn’t bear to listen to another person being sacrificed.
Asaph silently took her hand and ran to the cell that had just been emptied. He drew his sword. Issa covered her ears as the chanting crescendoed. The Flow was so weak she doubted she could command it, whilst the Under Flow flowed like a black river beneath her. She stuffed her ears to cut out as much of the sound as possible.
When the screaming fell to gurgling, she drew her sword, cold fury building, and the fear gone from her heart.
Footsteps came, keys jangled, red robes swayed. Asaph lunged.
The first couldn’t scream for the steel in his throat. Issa booted the other in the stomach, stopping her from yelling. The priestess fell, winded. Issa turned away as Asaph’s sword descended, completing the job.
Slowly, she turned back to look, a terrible feeling settling in her stomach. The woman’s face was tanned, her hair dark. Could she have killed her? She killed Maphraxies with relish but this was a human—well, she looked human. Apart from her black heart, she had been human once, a priestess like those she’d met in Celene.
Issa was shaken. Here was a side to the war she was not ready for; killing humans, even if they were traitors. Could I kill Cirosa? She’s not human now anyway. The thought and feelings made her doubt herself. She’d have to kill Cirosa if the time came—to hesitate would cost her own life, or worse, Asaph’s.
‘Issa!’ hissed Asaph, snapping her out of it. He was dragging the priest and priestess into the cell. He grabbed the iron keys from the priest’s flaccid hand and began taking off the man’s robes.
‘Quickly, put on their robes. We’ve a very slim chance of pulling this off,’ whispered Asaph.
Issa jumped into action and struggled to pull off the priestesses’ robes. Her limp body was heavy and bleeding and the thought of donning them made her feel ill.
Asaph looked awkward in the robe, dishevelled and bulky in areas that barely concealed his armour and sword.
Issa adjusted hers as he padded to the nearest cell and unlocked it. The door swung open and Issa glimpsed two small, fair-haired children huddling together, faces smeared in dirt, eyes wide with terror. They sacrificed children? She shivered with anger. At this moment she could easily kill all the priests in the next room.
‘We’re waiting, brother,’ a man’s voice called impatiently from beyond.
Asaph quickly unlocked the final cell. Issa couldn’t see the inhabitants clearly but there were children, and men and woman of all ages, dirty and ragged like beggars. They shivered and cowered and not one of them left their cells. None were able to fight. Issa pursed her lips.
Asaph cleared his throat and spoke loudly. ‘This one’s proving bothersome, brother.’ He feigned a strained voice. ‘Perhaps a little help?’
An exasperated sigh came, then the sound of footsteps. Issa brandished her sword, willing Illendri to calm its glow. It often responded to her excitement, but she could ill afford to use magic here. She was not a master swordsman, and without magic she felt like she was fighting with one hand tied behind her back. However, lately, the magic sometimes came instinctively, as second nature, and there was nothing she could do about that. Thank the goddess the Flow is weak in here, she thought. Given the fury in her heart for what they were doing to innocent people, the magic might take a will of its own.
She caught Asaph’s glance, saw the fire in his eyes, and readied herself. She crouched down behind the wall as the priest appeared, trailed by another. They passed her cell and went straight to Asaph. As soon as the last priest had passed, she leapt out silently and stabbed her sword forward. It passed through his unarmored body with sickening ease and he made an awful murmuring sound before staggering and toppling. It all happened so fast and so silently, the first priest didn’t notice. He turned around as his colleague thumped on the floor, then Asaph was upon him.
The priest made a strangled ‘Yargh!’ then slumped.
‘Usep?’ called another priest from beyond, followed by the sound of many feet.
‘Do what you must!’ Asaph said, not bothering to whisper.
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Issa nodded and entered the Flow. It was weak and slow but Illendri was ready and her talisman began to glow.
Five priests and priestesses appeared, their eyes widening as they looked upon their fallen colleagues. Asaph ran at them all, growling. One moved close to Issa, and rather than use magic it seemed quicker to use her sword. She was certain Illendri made her aim faster and more accurate. The blade seemed to sing as it swished through the air, slicing through exposed flesh in a manner that made her feel like she was going to be sick.
The priest fell whilst Asaph was already on his second. Two priestesses turned to run.
‘Stop them!’ Asaph barked.
Issa leapt over the bodies but was too far behind to catch them. She held up her hands, Illendri knew what to do and the raven talisman flared. Bricks from the ceiling and walls exploded around the women, knocking one out cold and tripping the other. Asaph was fast upon them and made sure they did not stand again.
Issa gasped, her knees shaking as the dust settled. ‘Is that all of them?’
‘I doubt it, but I didn’t see any flee the room. Perhaps we’re safe, for a time.’ Asaph wiped the blood from his sword on the robes of a fallen priestess.
Issa leant against the wall, trying not to vomit.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked.
Issa barely nodded. ‘I’ve not killed people before.’
‘They’re not human,’ Asaph growled.
Issa’s looked beyond him to the blood-soaked altar and her breath caught in her throat. There was blood everywhere, still dripping from the sickening spouts and dropped cups. In the Flow it was worse. Magic roared around her, the Flow coming from her and the Under Flow coming from a black tear in the air, an exact replica of the dark rift, a black scar hanging in the energies above the altar and not visible to normal sight.
‘Where are the bodies?’ she heard herself ask in a voice far away. ‘Have they really been taken by them?’
She didn’t hear Asaph’s answer for a deep groaning came from the black hole. Light Eaters.
‘There’s a black hole, can’t you see it? We must close it.’ She forced herself towards the rift. How did one close it?
She was almost under it now, and the strange groaning was growing louder. If she listened hard, she could hear the dark words spoken—like dark dwarven runes, or necromantic chants, only more distorted. She peered up into absolute blackness, the Under Flow swirled within, hunting for a way to enter the chamber as it had before, but now something prevented it.
I’m preventing it, she realised, but how? The raven talisman in her hand burned, the groaning and grating paused. Had it sensed her? It started anew, in earnest. The hairs rose on the back of her neck and her heart began to pound. Something was watching her!
What could she do? She raised Illendri and the talisman. Without any will of her own, the Flow moved forcefully through her. White light flared into the tear and something inhuman screamed. Air rushed upwards, the tear shuddered then vanished, along with the Under Flow.
Issa swayed, and Asaph grabbed her shoulders.
‘I don’t know what happened, but my sword has only just stopped shaking,’ he said. ‘Others will have heard or felt that, so we have to get moving.’
‘What about the people?’ Issa asked, hearing muffled sobbing.
Asaph’s face pained. ‘I don’t know how to help them. Perhaps it’s better they stay here until the castle is liberated, or…’ he didn’t speak the alternative.
Issa hurried back to the cells. She looked at the dirty faces of men, women and children. ‘You’re free, all of you, but this city is not. There’s an army coming, the army of the Free Peoples will liberate you. Until then, the safest place for you is here. Try and stay alive for as long as you can—there is hope and freedom.’
Asaph dragged her away to the growing sound of metal boots pounding on hard stone.
They ran through a door into a brightly lit corridor, then through another door. They hurtled along the hall, those boots getting louder and louder. Asaph swung through another door and shut it. Moments later, the grunts of Maphraxies accompanied the boots. He leant against the door and peered through a crack in the old, warped wood.
They were in a dark room. Issa could only see for the sliver of light coming under the door and through the cracks. It felt enclosed, as if they were in a small space. She held her breath as boots pounded past towards the dungeon they had run from.
‘Maphraxies,’ Asaph mouthed to her, his face only half visible under the hood of his robe. It sounded like hundreds of them!
The pounding boots faded away but it wouldn’t be long before they found the dead priests.
‘Come on,’ said Asaph, pulling his hood up and smoothing his robes.
‘Come on, where?’ asked Issa, a cold feeling coming over her.
‘Now’s our chance. You look the part.’
Before she could protest, he opened the door and stepped outside dragging her with him. Her heart pounding, she copied his stance, head bowed slightly to hide face and eyes, and hands tucked before him in the long sleeves of his robes. Despite the odd bit of bulking and the strange swing of his sword, he could pass as any other priest.
Maphraxies appeared ahead. They were enormous and seemed uglier and more deformed. Her heart pounded in her ears as they walked towards where they had just run from. Surely they should be running the other way? What on earth was Asaph doing?
The first two Maphraxies approached at a loping run. The stench of them, blood and the sweet smell of Sirin Derenax made her gag.
‘Not that way. They dead,’ said one, barely able to form the words. ‘Go other way.’
Asaph mumbled in surprise and nodded as the beasts lumbered awkwardly past, followed by five more. Not one suspected them. Thank the goddess they came out stupid, Issa prayed.
Asaph turned and followed them. ‘That’s not all of them,’ he said under his breath without looking at her or changing his pose. ‘The others are back there hunting for us. Word will spread, our survival lies in these awful clothes. Soon the entire castle will be hunting for us. The Maphraxies are too stupid to tell, but I would not want to meet many necromancers, and certainly not Cirosa or Hameka.’
Issa shivered at the names.
They passed the room where they had hidden. It was filled with brooms and buckets and other random things usually kept in a store cupboard. She was sorely tempted to crawl back in and never come out.
With as much composure and calm as she could muster, she let Asaph lead her up the steps and into the wider walkways of the bowels of the castle. Her legs never could shake off that weak feeling though and it felt like seconds passed as hours.
Mostly they met Maphraxies who did nothing but pass them by. She kept her head low; it helped not to look at the enemy. They entered into an enormous hallway several yards wide and so long she couldn’t see the end. A high, arched ceiling reached over them and at points along the walls, sconces burned. An old, gold-trimmed, red carpet ran the entire length and was in dire need of repair. There were more holes than fabric and it had long lost its lustre, now looking more brown than red.
Issa’s heart fluttered as she watched the hallway teeming with Maphraxies, dark dwarves, and the tall forms of necromancers. She kept her gaze low as Asaph walked forwards but when she glimpsed the red robes of a priest and priestess coming towards them, her blood ran cold. Before they neared, Asaph steered her into an arched exit with stairs leading up.
‘Should you not be channelling the dark energy at this hour?’ called out the priest. Asaph paused and peered over his shoulder, carefully keeping most of his face concealed.
‘Indeed, brother, but we’ve had a…spillage.’ He motioned to the blood-stains on his robes from the original wearer. Issa turned to reveal her own bloody patch.
‘Ah,’ smiled the priest, knowingly. ‘A fighter. Well, it always ends messily when they are, but the blood is so much sweeter.’
A lustful, savage
grin distorted the pretty priestess’s face at his side. Issa clenched the pommel of her sword.
‘Yes, it does, brother.’ Asaph’s voice was low and strained. ‘We’ll swiftly change and return to our duties.’
Without waiting for a response he turned and hurried up the stairs. The stairwell wound around and up for a long way, clearly missing a floor or two, before it exited out into another, much smaller hallway which was blessedly empty. Remaining in the doorway, they both leant back against the wall, breathing hard. Issa willed her nerves to calm.
‘I almost lost it,’ said Asaph, eyes closed, a sheen of sweat on his face. ‘I almost pulled my sword on them.’
Issa squeezed his arm. ‘We’ve made it this far. Now where?’
Asaph surveyed the hall, left and right, taking his time. ‘It depends on where Vornus might be. I can’t believe this place should have been my home. It’s so uncanny, sometimes when the Recollection is clear, I feel like I know every part of this place.’
Cold hands press on Issa’s shin and she looked down into Maggot’s glowing eyes that were almost orange.
‘I’ve found him, Issy, there are two other humans with him. They don’t smell like you, they smell better.’
‘Where, Maggot? Where are they?’ Issa bent down to his height.
‘High up, in the middle of this place. There are tall windows.’
‘What about the thin, pale necromancers? Like humans but not?’ Issa asked.
Maggot nodded. ‘Some. They sensed me. I had to leave.’
‘Thank you, Maggot. Now keep yourself safe whilst we try to get there.’ Issa stood and looked at Asaph, hoping he had a plan. It was clear Vornus was not alone, even if they could get to him.
‘I know where he is,’ said Asaph. The determination on his face made her sigh. He wasn’t going to turn around and go back, he wasn’t going to give up at all. She just hoped he wasn’t going to try to take them all on at once.
‘I’m worried, Cirosa is there,’ Issa admitted. ‘She knows your weaknesses and she can take you down. I’ll not let her, I’ll use the full force of the Flow if I must, but you must be ready.’
War of the Raven Queen: The Goddess Prophecies Fantasy Series Book 6 Page 35