“Something’s happening,” Kurtis suddenly whispered.
I almost hadn’t seen the shift in dynamics, it happened so fast. The brief conversation ended abruptly, with one of the Ungulion advancing a half step toward Yatol. Yatol shifted and raised his arms against the night. The Ungulion recoiled, almost like it was expecting an attack. It didn’t approach Yatol again. The two Ungulion circled behind Yatol and Tyhlaur and drove them toward the fortress.
I closed my eyes and let my head drop onto the sand. What if they had no chance to escape? What if the Ungulion were ready for them? What if we’d sent them to their death?
Not if I could help it.
I gathered my thoughts and all my muscles tensed. I’d have to clear the rest of the distance between us and the fortress, but surely the Ungulion would see me coming and wait. I had to stop them.
Aniira’s hand suddenly clamped down on mine like an iron claw.
“No, Merelin!” she whispered fiercely. “Wait!”
“This was a mistake!”
“You have to trust them. We stick to the plan.”
“Yatol never meant to go back,” I murmured. “I’m afraid the Ungulion won’t even bother interrogating him this time.”
Aniira only met my gaze in silence. She must have been thinking the same thing, but she still didn’t let me go. We waited. Darkness dragged over the desert, tinged only with the faintest twilit blue. A torch appeared above the battlement, bobbing like a tiny candle down the length of the fortress wall. We stayed put until it began moving away from us, then we ran.
We covered half the distance to the tower when we saw the torch flickering back into view. Kurtis caught sight of it first. He ran a little in front of Aniira and me, but suddenly he dove headlong behind a mound of sand. Aniira and I followed, flattening ourselves against the ground as best we could. I only prayed our cloaks didn’t shine too much in that dim half-light. We waited, breathless, but the torch bobbed on without the slightest pause.
Another sprint through the churning sand and we met the wall. Under the shadow of the battlement the tower face was black. I couldn’t see a thing anywhere down its length. We moved slowly, Kurtis brushing his fingertips against the rock high above his head, Aniira and I feeling over the wall lower down. Just when I was certain we’d never find anything without a light of some kind, my hand met a ring of rough, cold metal, a grate of rusting bars about chest-high.
“Found it.”
I peered through the grate. I thought I could glimpse the faintest shifting light and shadow down the shaft, but couldn’t be sure. Neither Yatol nor Tyhlaur were there.
“Should we wait for them?” Kurtis asked.
“How are we supposed to get in?”
Aniira tugged on the bars. “The grate isn’t very sturdy. Seems like it’s been shoved back in at least once.”
I remembered prying the bars out of the cell window. It hadn’t been easy, but there were three of us now. Maybe we could get it out.
“I think we should wait for them,” Kurtis said, answering his own question. “At least for a few minutes. Even if we get in, we won’t know where to find them. We’ll be hopelessly lost.”
Aniira nodded. Finally I gritted my teeth and agreed. We couldn’t possibly coordinate our rescue efforts if we couldn’t communicate. It’s not like we had cell phones or anything. The thought struck me as funny. Kurtis and Damian both did have cell phones. If only they worked here on Arah Byen. I could just imagine what would happen if Damian’s phone suddenly went off in front of the Ungulion. He had a crazy techno ringtone, too.
I giggled out loud before I could stop myself. Kurtis put a hand on my shoulder. He probably through I was delirious.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. Just imagining what we could do if your cell phone worked here.”
“Call Damian, you mean? I wish.”
“What’s a…cell phone?” Aniira asked, and Kurtis and I both laughed.
Kurtis pulled his phone out of the pouch on his belt, flicking a key to make the screen light up. The faint blue glow washed over our faces, turning them ghastly in the shadows. Aniira’s eyes looked like they would pop out of her head.
“It’s a way to talk to people, when you can’t see them,” Kurtis said.
“Wouldn’t that have been helpful trying to find the grate?” I remarked, nodding at his makeshift flashlight.
“Never even occurred to me.”
Kurtis hesitated, then suddenly he shook my shoulder – the hurt one. When I winced he jerked his hand away, looking physically pained himself.
“Sorry, sorry!” He tapped the phone excitedly. “But Merelin, that’s brilliant! We can use my phone.”
“How?”
“If we need a diversion, we can set the alarm to go off – really loudly. We can put the phone somewhere hidden, and the Ungulion will all try to find it!”
Why hadn’t I thought of that? Aniira frowned, not just confused but even peevish. Right. Yatol had said she could be the diversion. Didn’t like being supplanted by a square of plastic, apparently – even one that could light up and make noise.
A soft splash down the conduit silenced us. Someone was coming. Kurtis started to lift the phone, tapping the key again to brighten the screen. I grabbed his hand and pushed it down.
“Don’t!” I hissed. “We don’t want to startle him, whether he’s ours or theirs!”
In a moment Tyhlaur’s head appeared at the grate. I wanted to breathe a sigh of relief but couldn’t.
“Where’s Yatol?”
Tyhlaur shook his head. “No time. Stand away.”
We moved aside. Tyhlaur moved back, out of my view, then I heard his feet slam into the grate. It shot out of the wall and landed in the sand with a dull thud. As soon as it landed Aniira took a two-step running jump and pulled herself easily into the shaft. Showoff. I stared at the opening for at least half a minute, trying to figure out how to get up.
“Ever gotten a leg up onto a horse?” Kurtis asked.
I shook my head, and Kurtis dropped to one knee in the sand. Tyhlaur appeared in the opening above, ready to lend a hand.
“Step up onto my leg, and Tyhlaur will help you the rest of the way.”
My face burned with shame, even though I knew they were only helping me because of my hurt arm. I stepped tentatively onto Kurtis’s leg, so that the hole in the wall came level with my stomach. Somehow with Tyhlaur’s help I managed to clamber into the conduit. Kurtis came behind me, joining us where we huddled together in the cramped, fetid space of the shaft.
“Where’s Yatol?” I asked again.
“The Ungulion were going to seize the fake Pyelthan without releasing the prisoners. Yatol persuaded them not to, so the Ungulion had to take us inside. Once we’d gotten in, Yatol gave me the signal to break free. Only he didn’t try. I didn’t realize he was still with them until I’d gotten clear. I would have gone back for him but he warned me away.” He hesitated. “I’m afraid they will take him to Azik.”
“Azik is here?”
“Who is Azik?” Kurtis asked.
“Yes,” Tyhlaur said, ignoring him. “He arrived just before we did, apparently.”
I covered my mouth, drawing a few deep breaths. “That’s why he stayed behind, then. They know him. Know he probably has information, whereas Damian and my uncle, maybe not. If he’d escaped, they would have taken one of them to Azik. But now they will probably take—”
I couldn’t finish. The voice choked in my throat. Tyhlaur nodded.
“I have to save him,” I whispered.
“We get your brother and uncle first,” Tyhlaur said, firmly. “Otherwise you make his sacrifice pointless. He was trying to save them.”
I bit my lip, hot tears stinging my eyes. “All right.”
“Aniira and I are the most experienced of us here – no offense to you two,” Tyhlaur said. “Merelin, you stay with me. Aniira, you’re with Kurtis. Two in front, two in back. The prisoners are on
the third level. Four Ungulion patrol each level, and one patrols the stairwells in each corner tower.”
“Where is Azik?”
“In the dungeon,” Tyhlaur answered, readily enough, then suddenly his eyes flashed and he gripped my good arm fiercely. “We aren’t going down there. Not yet. Understand?”
I frowned, sullen. “I just wanted to know where all the pieces are placed.”
“All right. Let’s go.”
We followed him through the conduit, running half-crouched over through the darkness. When we arrived at the corridor Tyhlaur and I stopped, peering up and down and listening intently for any sound of the Ungulion patrol. The corridor was shadowy and broad, with little alcoves placed every twenty feet or so. I could imagine that in some earlier age, guards would have been posted in them. The shadows would serve for good cover.
“Clear,” I whispered.
“Clear.”
Tyhlaur gestured over his shoulder at the others, pointing to the right. He apparently had the same thought I did. As soon as we had scrambled out of the shaft, he ran straight for the first dark niche. He pushed me in first, then pressed his back against the wall and leaned to glance over his shoulder. In a moment I saw Aniira and Kurtis dash past, their feet hardly making a sound. Kurtis had abandoned his dress shoes along with the rest of his earthly clothes at Syarat’s camp, and now, except for his glasses, he blended in perfectly with the rest of us. His new sandals made the faintest tapping on the stone floor, but nothing that would raise an alarm.
“They made it,” Tyhlaur whispered.
“Are we going?”
He shook his head. His arm reached up, held me back. I caught my breath and sank as far into the corner as I could. The unmistakable ringing of metal-clad boots grew steadily louder. Sputtering light danced off the walls, creeping toward us. Then the Ungulion appeared. I didn’t see him until he was already passing us by. His torch lit up the wall of the alcove opposite us, and he never paused to check the other side. He’d probably never had a reason to. I couldn’t imagine he thought the patrol was anything more than a formality. After all, who would go to such a place willingly?
We waited till he was almost halfway down the hall, then we ran to the next furthest alcove. There was only one more, then the grey wooden door in the corner that opened onto the staircase.
My mind raced, and my heart ached like it was actually being torn in two. I couldn’t think. Couldn’t decide what to do. Nothing made sense. What would Damian tell me to do? What would Yatol?
Tyhlaur waved his hand again, signaling Aniira and Kurtis to go. I wondered why they were hesitating. After a moment they passed us by, and I watched Tyhlaur, frozen and anxious, until he relaxed. They’d made it. After a moment Tyhlaur straightened, his whole body going tense.
“What was that?” he hissed suddenly. “Clear or not?”
He paused, poised to run, checking and re-checking the corridor. Finally he stepped out, and halted. I knew without anyone telling me that he had walked out right in front of the Ungulion. Without thinking, I reached out and grabbed him by the tunic, hauling him back into the alcove. Down the corridor came a soft scraping sound, then a wet sort of thud. I risked a glance and saw Aniira standing over the bowed form of the Ungulion, two knives bare in her hands. And the Ungulion, just kneeling there like he’d been turned to stone.
Aniira waved at us, frantically. As we raced toward them, she and Kurtis hauled the frozen form of the Ungulion into the shadow of the alcove.
“What happened?” Tyhlaur cried. “We needed your signal.”
Aniira glared at him over her shoulder as she stooped to shove the Ungulion’s robes into the shadows.
“There was no time.”
“You were late proceeding.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I interrupted. “It’s done. What happened to the Ungulion? Is he dead? I thought they didn’t die.”
“Not dead,” Aniira said. “Paralyzed, temporarily. It’ll give us time to get away, but he’ll come to in a little while. He may or may not remember what happened.”
I nodded and ran the rest of the way to the stairway door. At the opposite end of the adjoining corridor I could just make out the approaching flicker of yellow light. Another Ungulion was coming, and would soon round the corner to head our way. I beckoned the others frantically. They were still bickering by the alcove.
“Come on!” I called, barely above a whisper.
The Ungulion had turned the corner and was drawing toward us. In a few moments he would see me.
Tyhlaur finally glanced over at me. He started to approach, but I knew he was already too late. I waved him back, shaking my head vigorously in the hopes he would understand. As soon as I saw the three of them ducking toward the alcove, I did the only thing I could. I cracked open the door and slipped through.
Chapter 19 – Choices
Once in the darkness of the stairwell, I froze. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust, but presently I noticed little slits in the walls that admitted the dim twilight – enough, at least, for me to make out the steps at my feet. I stood on a narrow landing, the steps curving up to my left and down to my right. Damian. Yatol. And somewhere on the staircase, an Ungulion guard. I couldn’t hear him on the steps below me, so I guessed that he was somewhere in the upper levels. That meant that going down was the safer way.
Part of me had a nagging feeling, too, that we might be wrong about Damian being held in the upper chamber. What if Damian and Yatol were both down with Azik? I cared about Mr. Dansy, of course, but the two most important people in my life at the moment might be somewhere else. I closed my eyes. Damian. Where are you?
Suddenly metal hinges squealed into the silence, and the lower stairs flooded with golden light. Two rasping voices cut across the sound of the whining door. My blood turned to ice.
“Why him first? I say let Azik take the other. He is weaker. If he gives in, then we still have the other.”
“The Breaker can take them both. He understands the power of…persuasion.”
Somewhere above my head came the echo of boots. The Ungulion guard was coming down. I drew a thin, ragged breath, found myself shaking all over. The voices grew louder, the light brighter, almost blinding in my night-adjusted eyes.
“Somehow I doubt even Azik will be able to make our old friend talk.”
“One of them knows where the medallion is. Azik will find out. Somehow.”
I backed up, slowly, trying to be silent. Three steps, four. I stood slightly behind the pillar, watching the doorway, willing my friends to stay put. I couldn’t help praying that the two Ungulion would go out through the door. If they kept coming up, I was lost.
The echoing footsteps above kept getting closer. The light below, brighter. I just held my breath and froze against the pillar. My mind careened over a hundred wild ideas. If my arm hadn’t been hurt, maybe I could climb the pillar and stay out of sight. Or somehow do one of those crazy split-jump maneuvers like the guy on one of Damian’s video games. Or take all three Ungulion out with the knife Yatol gave me.
Or maybe I should just let them take me.
The door opened.
“Intruder!”
“That’s the one who got away!”
The door slammed shut.
Oh no. Tyhlaur. This would be the perfect time for Kurtis to use his cell phone diversion. Or something. Someone had to do something. Aniira. Anyone.
The rattle of boots on the steps above me finally propelled me into motion. I crept down the stairs as quickly and quietly as I could manage. A huge wooden door reinforced with rough iron bars stood shut at the bottom, but I wasn’t about to barge through. I got down on elbow and knees and crept under the staircase, flattening myself out the last few feet so I could get as far under as I could. I just hoped there weren’t any rats or spiders down there. When my hand brushed some tufty, sticky strands of something I bit my tongue on a yelp. Waited.
The footsteps on the last few stairs rang deafeningly
in my ears. I watched the painful-looking boots come into view, closer and closer. If he came any nearer, he would surely see me.
But he wasn’t expecting an intruder, no more than the other guards had been. He just stopped where the staircase got too low, paused a moment, then turned back to the stairs. I waited till the sound of his steps faded, then let out a huge sigh. Now for Azik.
I scrambled out from under the stairs, brushing myself off nervously in case some insect had hitched a ride. After a moment’s thought I untied the swathe and sling protecting my arm, tossing the strips of cloth back under the stairs. It was too much of a pain not having two usable arms.
After staring at the door for a good minute, I grabbed the latch. The door was going to creak horribly, but I just gritted my teeth and pushed it open as gently as I could. The hinges whined a little in protest, but it wasn’t very loud. Not nearly as loud as the scream that shattered the silence just as the door opened.
Heart in my throat, I crept into the chamber. It was pitch dark, all but a pool of light in the very center of the pillared hall. A few more steps and I glimpsed the source – a circle of hellish green light simmering just above the stone floor, casting everything around it in a sickly glow. Yatol, chained to a pillar. Damian, barely visible, tied to the opposite column. And between them, the ghastliest figure I had ever seen.
Azik was no Ungulion. I had no idea what he was. He towered over Yatol and Damian, much taller than any Ungulion I had seen. As I crept closer he reached out two flawless hands, pale, long and sinister. They moved like fluid swirls of white in the pulsing light. I couldn’t get a glimpse of his face – if he had one. The deep hood of his robe seemed empty, if only because his head was bent.
I watched, horrified, as Azik approached Yatol. One bone-white finger traced a line from Yatol’s forehead to his temple, then suddenly grabbed his jaw. Azik’s other hand stretched to the noisome flame. I couldn’t see what happened, but Yatol suddenly writhed in pain, his back arching like a cat’s. He tried to twist his head out of Azik’s grip, but the Breaker only lifted his hand, wreathed in green light, and shoved it against Yatol’s brow.
Down a Lost Road Page 18