“Yes,” Sadira replied. “And if we can’t, not only will we send the legion back, Rikus and I will return to fight with it.”
Charl raised his finger to summon the wrab. “Then before you leave, there’s one more vote we should take.”
FOUR
THE CLOUD
ROAD
NEEVA CRAWLED FORWARD ON THE CLOUD ROAD, a long ribbon of black slate hanging across the face of an enormous cliff. She reached the jagged brink where a section of the bridge had fallen away, and peered down into an arid valley. Far below lay the missing section of road, a jumble of broken rockwork strewn across a drift of red sand. The warrior saw no indication of what had caused the collapse, only a handful of limestone buttresses half-buried beneath shattered slabs of paving stone.
“This road’s as old as Tyr,” she growled, more to herself than to the companions waiting behind her. “Why’d it have to collapse today?”
Coming as it did at the start of their journey, the breakdown did not bode well for their mission against Borys—or for the legion’s chances of reaching the giants before nightfall. Already the sun hung low over the western mountains, its rays striking the granite cliff at a direct angle, while the Tyrian warriors waited impatiently at the beginning of the Cloud Road. There were a thousand of them, all human, armed with huge obsidian axes, bone tridents with serrated tines, saw-toothed scimitars, spiked balls hanging at the ends of long coils of rope, and a variety of other weapons as deadly as man’s infinite desire to murder.
Neeva looked across the missing stretch of road. A brightly cloaked merchant stood on the other side, his image dancing in the heat waves pouring off the cliff face. The man was staring into the breach and scratching his ear, his face hidden beneath the broad brim of his great round hat. Shaking his head in despair, he looked over his shoulder at a pair of inixes, wagon-sized lizards with horny beaks, pincerlike jaws, and serpentine tails. The reptiles were harnessed to a cargo dray that was so large that one side was pressed tight against the cliff, while the other hung over the outside edge of the Cloud Road.
Neeva backed away from the gap.
Magnus took her arm and helped her to her feet. “What did you find?” he asked. The windsinger and Rikus had joined Neeva and the others in Tyr, shortly after the council had voted to send the city legion to help Rkard slay the Dragon.
“I didn’t see much,” Neeva reported. “There was nothing in the rubble to suggest something heavy made it collapse.”
“I thought as much,” Caelum said. He pointed at the square cavities where the buttresses had been mounted into the cliff face. “Those joining holes are in perfect condition. There aren’t any broken posts sticking in them, or any chips around the edges.”
“Which means?” asked Magnus.
“That the supports didn’t snap because of a load or sudden impact,” Caelum answered. “They came straight out. The buttresses were pulled—intentionally.”
“Could be more giants,” Rikus suggested. The mul was just returning from the beginning of the road, where he had gone to fetch a rope from the legion’s supply kanks.
Neeva shook her head. “We’re twice as high as a giant stands,” she said. “Besides, why would they bother? If giants didn’t want us to get across, they’d just smash the road, not pull it apart.”
“Well, whoever did it, they aren’t going to stop us.” Rikus glanced at Rkard, who stood near his father’s side, and asked, “You’re not afraid to cross that gap on a rope, are you?”
“No.” The boy answered sharply, frowning as though insulted.
Rikus chuckled, then said, “Good. If we don’t reach the giants before dusk, our plan won’t work.”
They had decided the best way to make the giants leave the valley was to lure them away. While the legion surrounded the titans, Rikus and Sadira would interrogate the invaders about Agis, Tithian, and what they knew of the Dark Lens. During the questioning, the mul would let it slip that the Lens was not in Tyr and that they were on their way to recover it. Then they would allow one of the titans to escape. Sadira would use her magic to spy on him and be sure that he returned to his fellows with the news that their Oracle was not in the city. Once Sadira was certain their ruse had worked, the legion would leave an obvious trail for the giants, so that any further war parties would go after the legion instead of attacking the city.
Rikus sat down on the road’s jagged brink and wrapped the rope around his waist. Magnus watched him for a moment, then scowled.
“Have you thought this out?” the windsinger asked.
“Of course,” Rikus answered. “Clavis said it would take a day to fix the road, and we don’t have a day. So, we’ll have to rope across.”
“And then what?” asked Magnus. “You can’t expect the whole legion to crawl across that rope. It would take too long—and with so many warriors, dozens are sure to lose their grip and fall.”
“The legion can take its time, if it needs to,” said Neeva. “We can fetch my militia from Agis’s estate. Our numbers aren’t as great, but there should be enough to support Sadira while she attacks with her magic.”
“Speaking of Sadira, I’m sure she could solve our problem easily enough,” Caelum suggested. “Maybe Magnus should send a message to her?”
Sadira had stayed behind in Tyr, making provisions with the Veiled Alliance to help defend the city in the legion’s absence. She had promised to catch the legion long before it reached the giants, and Neeva was surprised that the sorceress had not joined them already.
“That’s the wisest thing anyone has suggested yet,” Magnus said. He went a few steps up the road and began to work his magic.
“I’ll take a line across anyway,” Rikus said, finishing his knot. “We don’t have any time to waste if Sadira can’t come yet.”
After handing the other end of the rope to Caelum, Rikus reached out and thrust his hand into the square hole where the first missing buttress had been lodged. The mul swung out onto the cliff and reached for the next hole, grimacing as his face rubbed over the hot stone. His fingertips barely caught the bottom edge of the dark square. He worked them deeper into the cavity, then released his first hand and slipped it into the next hole.
Rikus shrieked in fear and surprise. He jerked his hand out of the far hole and began to fling it around madly. A silvery creature about as long as a stiletto had attached itself to his middle finger.
Neeva pulled her dagger and kneeled at the edge of the road. “Hold still, Rikus!” she ordered. “I can’t see what you’ve got.”
“I’ve got nothing!” the mul roared. “It’s got me.”
In spite of his shock, Rikus managed to steady his hand. A huge scorpion had clamped its pincers onto his middle finger, cutting him clear to the bone. The barb of the tail was buried deep into the back of his hand, with a great cone of red flesh already swelling up around the puncture.
“That scorpion’s huge!” Caelum observed. “It couldn’t have been in the hole when the buttress was there.”
“Who cares?” Rikus growled. “Just get it off!” The mul pushed his hand toward the road but could not quite reach because he had to cross his arm in front of his body.
Neeva lay down on her belly and stretched out to cut the pincers. The scorpion pulled its tail from Rikus’s hand and struck at her. It moved with such blinding speed that she barely managed to twist her blade flat and deflect the venom-dripping barb. She changed targets and sliced at the thing’s body, but the creature was every bit as quick as she was. Its tail lashed again, this time arcing at her wrist.
Neeva pulled back to avoid being stung. “I’ve seen lightning strike slower!”
“I could’ve told you that!” Rikus growled.
Pulling his hand back toward his body, the mul lowered his head and opened his mouth. There was a crunch of splintering carapace, then Rikus turned toward her and spit the scorpion’s severed tail from between his sharp teeth. The mul extended his arm toward her. Already, his hand was so s
wollen that it looked more like a bear’s paw.
“Get the damn thing off—now!”
As Neeva reached for the scorpion, its carapace suddenly changed from pearly gray to yellow. The color did not fade so much as slip off the arachnid’s body like a passing shadow. For an instant, the formless apparition hovered in the air, then it floated down to the hole into which Rikus had been sticking his hand when he was stung.
The scorpion itself turned gold and began to shrink, until it was so small that its pincers would no longer fit around the mul’s thick fingers. It fell free and tumbled away, its tiny body vanishing from sight long before it hit the ground.
“By the sun!” cursed Caelum.
Neeva tossed her dagger onto the road, then grabbed Rikus’s arm with both hands. She felt her husband’s powerful arms slip around her waist, then the dwarf pulled both her and the mul back onto the road. Caelum kneeled in the dust and grabbed Rikus’s wrist with both hands, his stubby fingers pressing down on the veins to shut off the blood flow. Neeva did not need to ask why the sun-cleric was so concerned. Of all the poisonous beasts in the Athasian desert, gold scorpions were among the worst, with venom powerful enough to drop an adult mekillot in five steps. Of course, such creatures did not normally change sizes or disguise their color beneath silver shadows, but Neeva was too concerned with Rikus’s welfare to dwell on the matter right now.
“Hold his wrist, tight!” Caelum ordered.
Neeva did as commanded, and her husband raised his own hand to the sky. “The sun’s heat will boil the poison away.”
Rikus grimaced. “This is going to hurt, isn’t it?” The mul’s eyes were glassy and his words slurred.
Caelum lowered his hand, fiery red and smoking from the fingertips. It glowed so brightly that it was translucent, save for the dark bones beneath the skin. The dwarf laid his palm over the scorpion puncture and squeezed Rikus’s hand as hard as he could. There was a soft sizzle, and streamers of greasy black smoke rose between his fingers.
Rkard slipped over to watch, placing his back to the cliffs. His face paled at the sight of Rikus’s scorched skin, but he did not look away. Neeva considered sending him elsewhere but decided against it. Her son was as much a sun-cleric as he was a warrior. If she attempted to shield him from the unpleasant sight of a wound, he would never learn his father’s art.
When an involuntary hiss slipped through Rikus’s clenched teeth, Rkard stepped closer and laid his hand on the warrior’s shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he said. “The sun demands pain in exchange for its magic.”
“I know.” The mul winced then added, “Your father’s done this to me before.”
Caelum continued to hold his hands over the wound for many moments, until Neeva could no longer see the bones outlined beneath his flesh, and the fiery glow had completely faded. By then, Rikus was only half-conscious and hardly seemed to realize where he was.
“What happened?” asked Sadira’s voice.
Neeva looked up to see the sorceress coming toward the small group, trailing black wisps of the shadow spell that she had used to answer Magnus’s summons.
“A gold scorpion stung him,” Neeva explained. The sorceress kneeled at her husband’s side and took his injured hand between hers. Although the swelling had gone down, the flesh remained black and scaly.
“Is he going to die?” Sadira asked.
“No. Father won’t allow it!” said Rkard, his hairless brow furrowed in determination.
“That’s right,” said Caelum. “He’ll be a little sick for a few hours, but he’ll live.”
The sorceress’s blue eyes seemed to glow a little brighter. “Thank you.”
Sadira rose, cradling her husband’s limp form in her arms. Although the mul probably weighed half again as much as a normal man, the sorceress showed no sign of strain at lifting his heavy body.
She passed Rikus to Magnus. “If you’ll bear Rikus for a while, I’ll get us across this gap.”
The sorceress took the rope from around Rikus’s waist and lay down at the end of the road. She leaned over the brink and tied one end to the last buttress, then returned to her feet and tossed the coil toward the merchant standing on the other side of the gap.
At first, Neeva thought the rope would fall short of its target, but Sadira uttered a quiet incantation that sent the line drifting straight into the merchant’s hands. “If you’ll tie that off, I’ll bring you and your wagon across,” she called.
For a moment, the man seemed too astonished to reply. Then he dropped down and fastened the line to a buttress beneath the road. Sadira smiled and yelled for him to stand back, then took the rope in her hand and spoke the words to another spell. A sheet of crimson light spread outward from both sides of the cord. Within moments, a red, flickering ribbon of luminescence spanned the gap, connecting the two severed ends of the Cloud Road.
“Come on ahead,” Sadira called. She continued to kneel, holding one hand on the rope. “My spell is more than strong enough to hold both you and your beasts.”
The merchant stared at the scintillating patch and did not move.
“I’ll go across and show him it’s safe,” Caelum volunteered.
“No, I’ll go,” said Neeva. She checked her harness to make sure both of her steel short swords were readily accessible. “With buttresses slipping from their joining holes and gold scorpions disguising themselves as something else, there’s something strange here. The merchant might be part of it.”
The warrior stepped onto the bridge and started across. With each footfall, the road swayed slightly under her weight. Through the soles of her sandals, she felt a strange, pulsing heat rising off the shimmering surface, and she understood the merchant’s reluctance to lead his inixes onto the unstable road. Even if it would support the weight of his huge wagon, coaxing the skittish draft lizards over a hot, vibrating surface would not be easy.
After Neeva had taken a dozen paces, the merchant stepped onto his end of the shimmering bridge. The inixes kept their gazes focused straight ahead and pulled the heavy wagon with no sign of spooking. As each set of wheels settled onto the road, the pathway swayed and undulated beneath Neeva’s feet, making her feel as though she were standing on water. She continued forward, thinking it wiser to meet the stranger in the middle of the link.
The man kept his eyes on the road, hiding his face beneath the broad brim of his hat. He wore a striped robe of many bright colors, though its vibrance was dulled by a gray coating of road dust. His gloves were worn and black, as were his belt and boots. The inixes behind him had silver-gray hides, which served to reinforce Neeva’s fear that this was a trap. Usually, the beasts were covered with a mottled assortment of scales ranging from rusty red to murky brown, hues that camouflaged the beasts in the rocky wastelands of Athas.
Neeva stopped at the halfway point. “Hail, trader,” she called. “Have you waited long?”
The man did not look up.
“Before you come farther, I’ll know the name of the man who wishes to pass over this bridge.” She rested her hands on the pommels of her twin swords.
The merchant continued forward, his hat shielding his eyes. Neeva drew her swords and stood ready to defend herself.
“Speak,” she ordered.
The man was now so close that she could see that his clothes were not covered with road dust, as she had thought earlier. They seemed immersed in a pale shadow, as if he were lurking in some back alley in the Elven Market. The same was true of the inixes, for Neeva could now see dim blotches of much-faded color on their hides.
“Stop and show yourself!” she demanded.
The merchant raised his arms to about chest height. Though he carried no weapon, Neeva took the gesture as a hostile one. She waited for the man to close within two steps, then raised both her short swords. The merchant threw his arms up to ward off the expected blows. She slipped one blade over his guard and slapped the hat away, baring his head.
The warrior gasped at what she saw. The
man was a corpse, with a swollen tongue protruding from between his cracked lips and the hollow expression of death in his eyes. A gray pall covered his flesh, not in the fashion of his inherent color, but like a silken shroud clinging to his lifeless features.
“It’s a wraith!” Neeva yelled.
Having fought similar creatures during the war with Urik, the warrior knew instantly that she was in trouble. Wraiths had no bodies of their own. Instead, they took control of other beings, such as the corpse before her or the gold scorpion that had stung Rikus. She had even seen them animate marble statues.
The wraith launched itself at her, the corpse’s arms outstretched, and its filthy fingers slashing at her eyes. Neeva swung her second sword, twisting her whole body to increase the force of the blow. Her blade sank deep into the neck. There was a pop as the head came free, but the corpse’s momentum carried it forward. She caught the brunt of its charge on her shoulder, then dived away and rolled.
Neeva came up facing her companions. Sadira continued to kneel at the edge of the road, holding onto the rope to keep her spell activated. Caelum was just charging past the sorceress with a raised mace, while Rkard followed a few steps behind with Rikus’s sword clutched in both hands.
“Rkard, no!” she yelled.
Caelum’s crimson eyes went wide, and he spun around instantly, almost impaling himself on the Scourge as his son crashed into him. He swept Rkard off the ground and started back up the road.
A shiver rolled down Neeva’s spine as a pair of cold hands touched her neck. She raised a hand above her head and spun. As she came around, she brought her arm down and trapped her assailant’s wrists between her elbow and body.
Neeva found herself staring into a pair of sapphire eyes set into a face of ghostly gray shadow that sat upon the stump of the corpse’s severed neck. The wavering visage was that of a sneering man with a sharp chin, an arrowlike nose, and hollow cheeks.
The boy! it commanded. Although the wraith’s lips moved when it spoke, no sound came from them, and Neeva heard the words inside her head. Borys commands it!
The Cerulean Storm Page 6