The Verdent Passage

by Troy Denning

  Rikus went to the front of the cart, where a single kank was lashed into the yoke. The docile beast stood a little higher than the mul's waist. Its chitinous body was divided into three sections: a pear-shaped head topped by two wiry antennae, an elongated thorax supported by six thin legs, and a bulbous abdomen hanging from the rear of the thorax.

  Though Rikus had never driven one of the creatures, he had ridden in kank-drawn wagons enough to understand the basic principal. In his free hand, he picked up a long switch lying on the front of the can, then tapped the kank between the antennae. To his surprise, the beast took off at a trot.

  "How much attention are you trying to draw to us?" Neeva demanded, jogging to keep up with the cart.

  "Slow down!"

  "How?"

  The blond gladiator snatched the switch from his hand and passed the end over the beast's antennae several times. It immediately slowed to a more acceptable speed.

  They plodded down the lane, then turned right on the broad road leading to the back gate. Several tower guards paused to peer down at the wagon, but no one showed any sign of alarm.

  At last, the gate itself loomed before them. It consisted of a large wooden door hinged between a pair of small towers. This evening, each tower was manned by one guard, with a single templar supervising them both.

  Neeva steered the cart directly for the gate, not varying the kank's pace. The tower guards and the templar watched the disguised gladiators approach without comment. A guard turned a wheel inside his tower, and the gate slowly started to open.

  The escapees passed into the dark shadows between the towers.

  "Wait!" called the templar.

  Neeva glanced at Rikus, and the mul nodded to indicate she should obey. The brawny woman passed the switch over the kank's antennae until the cart stopped.

  "Did I see bodies in there?" the templar demanded.

  "Yes," Rikus confirmed. "They insulted Tithian. We're taking them out for the raakles."

  "I'd better have a look," the templar sighed, climbing down the ladder.

  Neeva gave Rikus a questioning look. He shrugged, then peered over his shoulder at Anezka. She was playing dead, with one hand tucked awkwardly beneath her back.

  The templar reached the ground, then went to the side of the cart. He was a human with a three-day growth of beard.

  "What have we here?" the templar muttered, reaching over the wagon toward Yarig's neck. When his fingers came back sticky with blood, he grumbled with disgust and held his hand away from his body as if he didn't quite know what to do with it. "They're dead."

  "Of course," Rikus answered. "I killed them myself."

  The Templar regarded the mul with a disgusted look, then motioned the cart through the gate. Neeva hardly waited for it to open the rest of the way before she moved the little cart out from between the towers.

  A vast plain of rocky barrenness, purple-shrouded and as silent as death itself, lay before them.

  "Where do we go now, Rikus?" Neeva asked, urging the kank into a trot.

  "The estate of Agis of Asticles," the mul answered. "Wherever that is."

  ELEVEN

  UnderTyr

  Ktandeo tapped the bench with his cane. "Sit."

  Sadira obeyed immediately, but Agis ignored the command and remained standing. The three of them were gathered around the stone bench in the back the Drunken Giant wineshop. They had drawn the shimmering curtain of lizard scales for privacy.

  "At last, we meet formally," Agis said, holding both hands palms up in a formal gesture of greeting. "I am Agis of Ast—"

  "I know who you are," Ktandeo said, pointing to the bench. "Now sit."

  Sadira pulled Agis down next to her, anxious to avoid angering her contact any further. She and the noble had been trying to see Ktandeo since Agis's conversation with Tithian. After two days of the pair making nuisances of themselves in the wineshop, the old man had finally come.

  As soon as the senator touched the stone, Ktandeo scowled at the sorceress. "I'm certain you know what you've done."

  Sadira was not sure whether he was referring to her efforts to arrange a meeting with Rikus or to bringing Agis to the rendezvous point, but she nodded anyway. To the Veiled Alliance, both were grave offenses. "When you hear what Agis has to say, you'll be glad I did."

  "You'd better hope that's so," Ktandeo replied. "Otherwise—"

  Agis interrupted the old man's threat. "Something terrible is about to happen in Tyr, and only you can stop it." Before Ktandeo could reply, the red-bearded barman slipped past the curtain with a carafe of thick red wine and three mugs. Agis reached into his purse and withdrew several coins, but the old man laid his cane across the noble's wrist.

  "I wouldn't drink what your coins buy," the sorcerer said.

  "You can drink what Agis offers you," Sadira snapped, laying a hand on the senator's firmly muscled knee. During the last two days, the sorceress and the noble had not spent more than ten minutes apart, and she had come to know him well. "He's a better man than his peers."

  "Is my hearing bad?" Ktandeo asked, sticking a thick finger into his ear as if to clean it. "I could have sworn I just heard a woman who kills templars defending a slave holder's reputation."

  Sadira's cheeks reddened. "The men I killed were petty, murderous scum, and they would have been the same whether they were free or slave," she said. "Agis is a good man, and being born into a corrupt nobility doesn't change that."

  "Whether he's noble or slave is all the same to me," said the barman, holding out his hand. "His money is what matters."

  Agis dropped a few coins into the server's hand.

  The barman examined the coins briefly, then returned a small bronze disk to Agis. "If you think I'll take this instead of good Tyrian currency, you're mistaken. That's no coin I've ever seen."

  Agis slipped the disk into his robe pocket with an air of chagrin, then retrieved two proper coins to replace it. "I've no idea how it came to be in my purse. Please accept my apologies."

  As the burly man left, Ktandeo raised an eyebrow in Sadira's direction. "Didn't you storm out of here the other night because you love that gladiator?"

  "What if I did?" Sadira demanded.

  Ktandeo waved his cane in Agis's direction. "You're talking as though you care for this one, too."

  "I might," Sadira answered, giving Agis a warm smile. He returned her gesture by looking slightly distressed. "What's wrong with that?"

  Sadira understood why Agis and her contact seemed disturbed, but she did not share their prudish attitudes. Nothing in her background had taught her to consider romance an exclusive commitment. Tithian had used her mother as breeding stock, and Catalyna, the woman who had taught her the art of seduction, had warned the young sorceress against becoming attached to a single man.

  "Perhaps we can discuss my visit with the high templar?" Agis suggested.

  "That's what you came here for," Ktandeo grumbled, eyeing Sadira coldly. "And it had better be important."

  As Agis recounted his meeting with Tithian, Ktandeo grumbled about the liberties Sadira had taken by recruiting the noble in the Alliance's name. He frowned at her when Agis revealed that the high templar knew the Veiled Ones wanted to meet with Rikus. However, when the senator described the pyramid and balls he had seen in Tithian's memory, Ktandeo's mood changed from one of petulance to one of apprehensive distraction.

  "Tithian knows too much about what you two have been doing," Ktandeo said, his eyes thoughtfully fixed on the pommel of his cane.

  "There's no doubt Tithian has a spy close to one of us," Agis said.

  "It's your manservant, Agis. I'm sure of it," Sadira added.

  The noble disguised his reaction to the statement by lifting his mug and taking a swallow of wine. This was one area where they were not in complete agreement. When Agis had gone to meet Tithian two days ago, Caro had excused himself on the pretense of relieving his bladder. He had not returned until just before Agis left the stadium. Even then, Sad
ira had been suspicious of the dwarf's prolonged absence. When she had heard about the interruption that ruined the assault on the high templar's mind, she had immediately concluded that the dwarf was a spy and pulled Agis aside to warn him.

  "The dwarf who was with you at the slave auction?" Ktandeo demanded.

  Agis put his wine aside with a sour face. "When you look at what Tithian knows and what Caro could have told him, it seems likely," Agis said. "I still find it difficult to accept. Caro's been loyal to my family for two hundred years."

  "You're overestimating the strength of a slave's loyalty," Sadira said.

  "Perhaps, but Caro's focus is serving the Asticles family. Do you know what it would mean if he betrayed me?"

  "Eternal damnation seems a high price to pay for betrayal," Ktandeo agreed. "Still, Athas is full of dwarven banshees and we have no way of knowing what Tithian may have offered him. I hope you had enough sense not to tell your servant where you are now."

  Agis nodded. "I sent him home the same day of my meeting with Tithian. He hasn't seen us since."

  "Let's hope so," Ktandeo answered. He stared at his cane's pommel. "What you saw in Tithian's memory is worrisome." He looked to Sadira. "I owe you an apology, my dear. You were right—nothing is more important than killing Kalak, and as soon as possible."

  "Why?" Sadira and Agis asked the question simultaneously.

  Ktandeo raised his hand and shook his head. "Let us pray you never learn the answer," he said, switching his gaze to Agis. "Now, what do you make of Tithian's proposal? Surely you don't think the high templar can be trusted?"

  "Only to do what is best for himself," Agis replied. "But I do think he's sincere about working with you."

  "Then you're a fool," answered Ktandeo.

  "Perhaps not," Agis countered. "Kalak has put Tithian in a hopeless situation. He has no choice except to turn to the king's enemies for help."

  Sadira added, "At the same time, he warned Agis to watch himself, so-"

  A handful of muffled cries sounded in the plaza outside the wineshop, interrupting Sadira. Though the curtain remained drawn, it was not thick enough to muffle the panicked voices The half-elf was rising to investigate the noise when the barman stuck his head around the edge of the curtain. In his hand, he held the satchel in which Sadira had been carrying her spellbook when Radurak captured her.

  "Templars!" the barman hissed. He shoved the satchel into her hands and left.

  Sadira turned to Ktandeo. "Where did he get this?" she gasped, slinging it over her shoulder. She was so delighted to have it back that she was hardly concerned about the templars.

  "From Radurak, of course," the old man answered curtly. "There's no time to discuss that now. Tithian offer was bait, and you two swallowed it!"

  The sorcerer tipped the stone bench onto its side. Beneath it, a cobweb-filled stairway descended into the murky earth at a precariously steep angle. To Sadira's elven vision, the first few feet of the stone stairs were outlined in blue tones emitted by the cool rock. Beyond that, the passage was as dark to her as it was to her human companions.

  "Where does this go?" Agis demanded.

  Before anyone could answer, the harsh, demanding voice of a templar sounded outside the curtain. Without waiting for Ktandeo's command, the half-elf took Agis's hand and led him into the stairwell. As the old sorcerer followed, he pulled the bench back into place, plunging the stairwell into darkness. The red hues of her companions' warm bodies and the blue hues of the cold stone provided all the illumination Sadira needed, but she knew her human friends would be completely blind in the darkness.

  "I can cast a light spell," she whispered.

  "Absolutely not!" came the old man's reply. "Go!"

  The half-elf started down the stairs, guiding Agis by the hand. Ktandeo followed a step behind, his cane quietly tapping each stair before he stepped on it. As they descended, the silky filaments of the cobwebs slipped over Sadira's bare shoulders like a gossamer shawl, sending shivers of trepidation down her spine. Several times imagining that something had crawled beneath her chemise, she had stifled the urge to slap at her back.

  Worse than the cobwebs was the thick layer of dust covering the stairs. With each step, small puffs billowed up to tickle her nose and throat, vexing he with the urge to sneeze and cough. The dust was so deep that the edges of the stairs were slick and treacherous. Several times, Sadira slipped. Only the strong grip of Agis's warm hand prevented her from tumbling into the murkiness.

  After many moments of hurried descent, they reached the bottom of the stairwell. There the passage changed into a corridor, which then ended almost immediately at a stone wall. Sadira turned around, conscious of a musty smell and the refreshing coolness of subterranean air.

  "We're at the bottom," she whispered.

  A loud clunk echoed from the upper end of the stairs. Far above, a narrow shaft of light poured into the stairwell. A black-robed templar appeared at the entrance.

  "Go on," Agis whispered.

  "It's a dead end," Sadira replied.

  "Wrong," Ktandeo hissed. "Be quiet while I take care of our friends."

  The old man calmly waited as the templars lit torches and began descending the stairs. The heat of the small flames overpowered Sadira's elven vision with painful white light, but her eyes quickly adjusted back to normal. As the first templar reached the halfway point, a crooked smile crossed Ktandeo's lips. "Cover your ears."

  The old man pointed the tip of his cane up the stairwell and uttered a single word, "Nok" A deep red light blossomed in the heart of the glassy pommel.

  Sadira gasped as a strange tingle stirred deep inside her belly. The half-elf clasped her hands over her ears just as Ktandeo whispered, "Ghostfire."

  A tremendous blast slammed through the corridor. Dust and stone chips showered down on the trio, and the air itself beat against them. A geyser of nebulous light shot up the stairwell. At first it merely washed over the men on the stairs, illuminating their frightened faces in a roiling, ruby-hued stream. For more than a second, the astonished templars remained motionless inside the crimson ray, their mouths gaping open and their hands clutching their short swords.

  The spell began to fade. The skin of those caught within its beam grew ashen and flaky. Flesh poured off their bodies in a fine powder, and screams filled the stairwell. Some men tried to flee up the stairs, and others charged downward. Their efforts did little good, for as the light grew dimmer, their hair, eyes, and even their entrails turned to ash. By the time the stairwell returned to darkness and Sadira was once again relying on her elven vision, all that remained of the templars was a mass of charred bones clattering down the steps. "The cane drew its energy through us!" Agis gasped. "What kind of magic is that?" Sadira demanded. Ktandeo had never told her it was possible to draw magical energy from animal life.

  Ktandeo let out a fatigued gasp. He reached out for Agis's shoulder, but could not find it in the darkness. Sadira stepped past the noble and slipped her shoulder under the old man's arm. To her eyes, the color of his body had faded from deep red to pink. Ktandeo's magic had apparently drawn most of its energy from the old man himself.

  Supporting himself on Sadira's shoulder, the sorcerer staggered to the end of the corridor and tapped his cane against a stone. "Push there," he gasped.

  With her free arm, Sadira guided Agis forward, and he gave the stone a shove. A door-sized slab pivoted open in front of them as more templars stepped into the top of the stairwell. The king's men descended rapidly, cursing and kicking at the bones of their dead fellows.

  "Take them alive!" yelled a commanding voice.

  Sadira prodded Agis through door. "We should have killed Caro when we had the chance."

  "This only proves it wasn't him," objected Agis. He doesn't know where we are.

  "Quiet!" Ktandeo gasped, pushing Sadira through the door. Once they were clear, Sadira quickly inspected their dark surroundings while Agis closed the door. Ahead lay a silent cavern smelling of mil
dew and decay. It was filled with the round, cool-blue shapes of rocky pillars rising more than ten feet overhead to disappear into a yellowish mass of gauzy filament that hung from the ceiling.

  "Nok," Ktandeo said again, speaking the word that activated his cane, then named the spell he wished to use. "Forestlight."

  The pommel of his cane began to glow. Sadira blinked, and then she saw that the obsidian ball was surrounded by a small circle of eerie violet light. She felt a faint tingle in her gut as the cane drew energy from her.

  Muffled voices began to sound through the stone slab at their backs. Ktandeo led them away, moving at a painfully slow pace. Sadira knew he would never be able to outrun the templars. Fortunately the trio had already traveled many yards into the pillar forest by the time the hidden door behind them began to scrape open.

  The old sorcerer ran the palm of his hand over his cane's pommel, and the violet light faded away. Behind them, the torchlit forms of templars began to pour into the cavern.

  "You're our eyes now," Ktandeo whispered, pulling Sadira to the front of the party. "I'll hold your hand Agis, you hold my cane. Keep on eye on what's happening behind us."

  Sadira glanced over her shoulder and saw that the number of templars gathering outside the door had risen to more than a dozen. "Where are we going?"

  Grasping her by the shoulders, Ktandeo oriented her so that she faced exactly the same direction as him "Straight ahead. Count fifty pillars and stop."

  The half-elf took her master's hand and started walking at the fastest pace she judged Ktandeo could endure.

  A templar's strident voice echoed through the quiet cavern. "They went this way! Ten silver for every man here if we catch them alive. Ten lashes if they escape!"

  "Agis?" Sadira asked, continuing forward. She did not look back, for she did not warn her elven vision washed out by the heat of the templars torches.

  "They're following our path," he reported.

  "Run!" Ktandeo hissed.

  "But—"

  "Do it!" he ordered.

  Holding Ktandeo's hand, Sadira set off at a jog, her steps falling silently on the cold stone floor. Behind her, the old sorcerer stumbled and scraped along, his breath coming in unsteady, rasping wheezes. Agis brought up the rear, his footfalls muffled and steady. Though their passage could hardly be called hushed, the half-elf did not worry about the noise they caused. Their pursuers were making so much noise that she and her friends could have spoken aloud without concern.