Rolling his head to the side, Dhal saw Efan still in the hands of the guards. The tears on the boy’s face glinted gold in the torchlight. For a moment he and Dhal just stared at each other. Efan’s shoulders sagged, then fresh tears came. Silently they spilled down his face. For me? Dhal wondered.
Saan Drambe’s voice rose slightly, the bark of command returned. “Get everything together, packs, food, weapons. I’ll leave no one behind this time.”
“Saan,” one of the men said. “What about the Ni?”
Saan Drambe turned and looked down at Dhal. After a moment’s deliberation, he motioned to two of his men. “Get him up. We’ll take him with us. If we run into any more traps, he’ll make an excellent shield.”
“He won’t last very long bleeding like he is,” one of the men said, indicating the blood that had saturated Dhal’s tunic.
“You worry too much, Dafon,” Saan Drambe said. “Lift up his tunic.”
Dafon did as ordered, bringing his torch close to better inspect the wound. He wiped the blood away. When he failed to find a gaping wound, his eyes grew round with disbelief. Hastily he withdrew his hand and rose. “There is no wound, Saan, just blood.”
“I told you he was a Healer. But it seems no one was listening. You don’t kill his kind unless you sever the head from the body.” Saan Drambe looked down and added, “Which we can always do later—after we have located the Tamorlee.”
Chapter 25
WEAK FROM THE LOSS OF BLOOD, DHAL FELL AGAIN. THIS TIME he almost passed out. Impatient, Saan Drambe ordered that he be carried and the task fell to Dafon, the large, broad-shouldered man who had questioned Dhal’s healing powers.
There was no comfort in being carried stomach down, but Dhal could not complain. He still had his life and a chance to keep it, if Ssaal-lr, Poco, and Gi could follow the Sarissa. Though the thought of a Ni-lach treasure stirred Dhal’s curiosity, he would have gladly traded the privilege of being in on the find for his freedom and a half-hour’s head start out of the valley.
The men were silent as they moved down through the tunnels. The man who led the way counted the offshoot tunnels aloud, his voice echoing eerily down the long-abandoned passages. After passing through a series of winding stone corridors, they reached a stairway leading down. Here the company stopped.
“How much farther, Maur?” Saan Drambe asked the lead man.
“About four minutes, Saan. At the bottom of the stairs there are three tunnels. All of them lead to water, two to the lake south of the ruins and the third to the left and to an underground river that must feed into the lake eventually. It looks like the Ni used the river for transport. We did find part of a rotted boat and some old bones.”
“Bones?” Saan Drambe said quickly. “Animal?”
“Man—or Ni. It’s impossible to tell.”
“What about the Tamorlee?”
“It’s on the other side of the cavern, across the river. There are a pair of statues guarding a hollowed-out chamber a couple of steps up from river level.”
“Show us the way,” Saan Drambe said impatiently.
Dafon readjusted his hold on Dhal’s back as they descended the stairway. Dhal was forced to turn his face into Dafon’s back else risk having his head knocked against the rock walls as the stairs turned in upon themselves. Suddenly he felt a hand on the back of his head. The hand stayed there until they reached the bottom of the stairs. As Dafon followed the others into the left tunnel, Dhal looked up and found Efan walking behind Dafon. The boy looked as if he wanted to say something, but the darkness of the tunnel fell between them once more and Dhal could no longer see the boy’s face.
Traitor? Dhal thought. Or friend still? Or only a youngling lost in the world of adults? As he watched Efan’s shadowy form march along behind Dafon, he came to understand a truth about men, about their vulnerability and their fears. Like the many facets of a fire stone, each man had many faces, both dark sides and light, and from moment to moment the spirit force could change. Efan had been a stranger, then a friend, then a traitor. What was he now?
The air became cool and damp, the footing treacherous with slime. Twice Dafon slipped but caught himself. Dhal heard the squishing sound of water beneath the men’s boots and realized that at certain times the tunnel they walked was probably under water.
The tunnel ended abruptly, opening out into the river cavern described by Maur. Saan Drambe and some of his men went straight to the river’s edge.
“Varga!” Saan Drambe yelled across the river to the man who had gone ahead. “Varga, what have you found?”
As the last of the echoes died away, Varga appeared on a ledge overhanging the river. “Come see for yourself, Saan,” Varga cried gleefully. “You won’t believe it! There are thirteen wooden chests back here, all of them filled with Ni-lach jewelry and carvings the likes of which you’ve never seen! It looks as if they might have been trying to take it out with them when they left!”
“Don’t touch anything, Varga,” Saan Drambe yelled back. “We’re coming over.”
Leaving Dafon, Efan, Dhal, and two others on the near side of the river, Saan Drambe and the other men stripped to their breeches and waded into the water, three of the men carrying torches. Several of the men swore at the ice-cold water.
Dafon let Dhal down from his shoulder and ordered him to sit quietly. Efan stayed close, his face turned to the river. Silently they watched Saan Drambe and his men reach the other side and pull themselves up onto the rock shelf below the inner cavern.
Dafon ordered the two guards with him to scout along the water’s edge. “The river runs in that direction,” he said, pointing to the right. “Follow it and see if there’s anything we could use to build some kind of a bridge. I think we’re going to need it.”
The two men quickly disappeared around a bend of rock. For a minute or so Dhal could see the reflection of their torches on the water, then that too disappeared. Across the river he could hear voices and see the shadowy figures of Saan Drambe and his men.
Minutes passed. Sitting there on the wet dirt, Dhal felt coldness creep into his body, followed by a strange lulling of the senses. The cavern took on a dreamlike quality. He was a watcher, seeing but not feeling, aware yet half asleep. The loss of blood had weakened him more than he realized.
“Wish they’d hurry,” Efan said, taking a step or two toward the water’s edge.
Suddenly they heard a terrified scream. As the echo bounced off the cavern walls, a cry for help came from downstream where Dafon’s two men had disappeared. Dafon grabbed the torch from Efan and started running down along the riverbank, leaving Efan and Dhal alone in the darkness.
“Dhalvad?” Efan’s voice quavered.
“I’m here.” Dhal could just make out Efan’s form against the faint glow from the torches on the other side of the river. He reached up to meet the boy’s questing hand. “Help me up,” he said.
Cerl sar Drambe’s voice came from across the river. “What’s going on over there? Dafon, where are your lights?”
Dhal felt the boy draw breath to answer and squeezed down hard on his shoulder. “No,” he said softly.
“Answer me!” Saan Drambe hollered, raising his torch high overhead, as if to throw light over on their side. Other torches appeared along the river shelf.
The cavern was silent. The only sound Dhal could hear was the soft gurgle of water as it rose from some underground source. He listened for voices downstream but it was as quiet as it was dark. He did not know what had happened to Dafon and the other two men, but he was not going to wait around to find out. Already Saan Drambe had ordered two of the men into the water to see what was wrong.
Dhal’s legs were shaky and the wet moss was slippery beneath his feet. Slowly he began to back away from the water’s edge, pulling on Efan’s shoulder, silently inviting him to come along. The boy came.
But they had gone no more than ten steps when Efan stopped. “Dhalvad, look!”
They both stared at th
e river. The swimmers’ torchlight reflected across the water and showed a strange roiling movement behind the men, who seemed unaware of the change. Dhal thought it looked like some kind of a whirlpool, then suddenly a great shadowy form rose out of the water.
“Look out!” Efan cried, running forward. “Behind you!”
It was a water draak, not as large as the one they had seen in Sar-ruel, but still dangerous. As they watched, the draak’s head dipped down toward one of the men in the water.
Lunging forward, Dhal grabbed Efan’s arm. “There’s nothing you can do, Efan. Come on, let’s get out of here!”
A second later one of the men in the water was gone when a single snap of the draak’s jaws severed head from body. The other man was swimming madly for the riverbank, his torch gone. Dhal and Efan could hear his sobbing gasps.
At the call for help, Efan shook free of Dhal’s hand and ran toward the water’s edge. A wedge of darkness overshadowed them both, then there was a great splash. Dhal heard a single scream, then a wave of water washed up over the riverbank, knocking him from his feet.
Dhal rolled over in the darkness, then somehow he was on his hands and knees, water swirling around him. Someone got a hold on his tunic and pulled him up. He felt the bite of sharp claws. He slipped again, then strong furred arms caught him up and carried him away from the water’s edge.
“Screech,” he cried. “Efan! Find Efan!”
A few more steps brought them to the safety of the tunnel, then the arms relaxed and lowered Dhal to the ground. Ssaal-lr turned and went back to the underground river as other hands reached for Dhal.
“It’s Poco, Dhal. Are you all right?” She patted him anxiously, looking for injuries.
“Gi here too, Dhal,” the olvaar whistled.
The roaring hiss of an aroused draak echoed through the cavern. The water creature had turned its anger on the flickering lights and shadow forms on the other side of the river. The battle lasted only a few minutes.
All torchlight was gone. Poco, Gi, and Dhal sat quietly in the darkness listening to the water draak make a meal of its victims. Dhal felt Poco shiver against him and pulled her close. Minutes passed. Dhal grew worried about Ssaal-lr and Efan. Had the derkat found the boy?
At last, with a snuffle of air the draak slipped below the surface of the water. They waited in silence. “Think it’s gone?” Poco asked softly.
“I think so.”
“What called it?” she asked, keeping her voice whisper soft.
Called? Had the Ni-lach left a guardian for their treasure? Or was it only the voices and the lights that had roused it from the depths of the river?
A soft coughing sound broke into his thoughts. “We’re here, Screech,” Poco replied.
“Efan? Did you find the boy, Screech?” Dhal asked.
He felt Ssaal-lr’s warm breath on his face, then furred hands touched his head, gently moving it back and forth. Efan was gone. Dhal’s last feelings of anger toward the boy dissolved as he realized that Efan had died trying to warn others of their danger. No matter that they were Dhal’s enemies.
“Efan’s gone,” he told Poco.
“I had a feeling,” she said. “Come, let’s go. We left several torches back on the stairs. They should be enough to light our way out of here. If not, Ssaal-lr can lead us. His eyes are better in the dark than ours.”
Chapter 26
SITTING ON A KNOLL TO THE EAST OF THE RUINS, DHAL LOOKED down valley, his thoughts on the treasure Saan Drambe and the others had died finding. It had taken Ssaal-lr five days to find another tunnel leading to the other side of the underground river, days that Dhal had spent sleeping and eating, trying to regain his strength.
Poco, Gi, Dhal, and Ssaal-lr had slipped quietly into the cavern one night, to sort through the wooden chests. Just as Varga had said, the treasure consisted of Ni-lach jewelry and intricate wooden carvings. Poco chose for herself a pendant carved in the form of a seven-pointed star. While the others picked and chose things they would like, Dhal searched through the jewelry. None of the gemstones inset in the rings and headbands were shards of the Tamorlee, and of the Tamorlee itself there was no sign.
Where is it? he wondered. What had happened to the great crystalline lifeform and the people who had guarded it? Questions, always questions, but never any answers.
Dhal watched Poco emerge from the trees and cross the open ground in front of the abandoned training center. Stopping at the main doors, she poked her head inside. He knew she was looking for him and called to her.
She saw him and started up the rise, her movements sure and graceful. Dhal nudged the furry bundle in his lap. “Wake up, Gi. Company coming.” The olvaar rolled over and looked up at him, golden eyes heavy with sleep. Around his neck Gi wore a golden chain with a small pendant dangling free, the only thing he had taken from the wooden chests. Dhal had a feeling that the olvaar’s interest in the chain was only momentary; the olvaar were not collectors of anything but stories.
Breathing easily, Poco dropped down in front of him. “I wondered where you two went. I came to tell you that Ssaal-Ir saw two of Drambe’s men leaving the valley headed south toward the pass.”
“When?”
“Just a little while ago.”
“What did they look like?”
“One was a big man with heavy shoulders.”
“Dafon,” he said softly.
“What?”
“I think his name is Dafon. He must have found another way out of the cavern with one of his men.”
‘“Screech didn’t get a good look at the other one, but the man was hurt. Screech wanted to go after them but I told him no. I don’t think they’ll make it back alone.”
Dhal thought about the men and the path that lay ahead of them. Though it would be a long and lonely trek back to Port Bhalvar, the Sarissa had proved to be resourceful in escaping the cavern alive. “They might make it,” he said. “I don’t think I would bet against them.”
“You want me to send Screech to stop them?”
“No.”
“But what if they live to return to Port Bhalvar? Won’t they bring others back here?”
“If the Sarissa come, they come, Poco. It doesn’t matter any longer. The Ni-lach might have ruled here once, but no more. All this”—he waved his hand toward the valley—“belongs to draak and gensvolf now. Let them keep it.”
“What about the rest of the treasure?”
“We have all we can carry. Let the draak guard the rest. It will be as safe with him as it would be if we tried to hide it.”
Poco nodded in agreement. “Well then, I’ve got everything packed so we’re about ready to leave. Do you want to start this afternoon or wait until tomorrow morning?”
Dhal looked down at the ring on his finger. When Ssaal-lr and Gi had buried Haradan, Gi had salvaged the leather pouch at Haradan’s belt. Inside the pouch Dhal had found the fire stone that had introduced him to the Tamorlee and the ring world. Not one other fire stone had they found in the treasure chests.
Poco reached out and placed her hand over his. “Dhal, is something wrong?”
He shook his head. “No, I’ve just been thinking.” Though none of them had been overly talkative in the days following their escape from Saan Drambe, they had made plans for their departure. Their destination was to be Janchee and then Port Sulta. But now Dhal was not so sure that that was where he wanted to go.
“Thinking about what?” Poco prompted after a long silence.
“About Val-hrodhur.” Dhal took a deep breath and looked Poco straight in the eyes. “I have to go back.”
“Why?”
“I have to know where it is and what happened here. I have to know if Val-hrodhur has been created more than once. It might give me a clue as to where the Ni-lach have gone and how we can find them.”
“What if you meet Danner or l’Tamorlee again and they won’t let you go this time?”
“I have to go, Poco, even if I risk capture. I mus
t know what has happened to the Ni-lach. I must learn the truth for both of us.”
“Dhal strong enough to use ring now?” Gi whistled.
“I’m strong enough, Gi, and I thank you for your concern.”
“I wish one of us could go with you,” Poco said softly.
“No, it’s something I must do alone. Will you wait for me to return?”
“You know we will. How long will you be gone?”
“I don’t know. An hour, a day, perhaps longer.” Dhal picked Gi up and handed him over to Poco. “But if anything should go wrong, wait no longer than a week, then start for Janchee. If and when I can, I’ll follow.”
Holding Gi in her arms, Poco shook her head. “We won’t leave without you, Dhal. We’ll wait, won’t we, Gi?”
“Gi waits, yes.”
Dhal knew where he wanted to go this time. Gazing into the fire stone, he willed the swirling colors to form a picture of the Tamorlee, the glowing crystal that rested in the cavern. He was not aware of the movement or shift from world to world—all he noticed was a sudden stillness in the air, warmth replacing cold.
One moment he was sitting with Gi and Poco on a hill overlooking the abandoned training center, the next moment he was sitting within five or six paces of the Tamorlee. For long moments he just sat and stared, then he stood up and approached the crystal. Reaching out, he laid his ring hand against the surface of the stone. It was cool to the touch, smooth and hard.
He heard footsteps and turned. Two Ni-lach stood there, one female, one male. Both looked a little nervous. The female spoke. “Seeker, we were told to watch for you. You are Dhalvad sar Haradan?”
He hesitated, then nodded.
“L’Tamorlee waits for you. He hoped you would return. Will you come with us, please?” When he did not respond, she held out her hand. “Don’t be afraid. Come, take my hand. I promise, you shall not be harmed this time.”
Where The Ni-Lach Page 23