"Who is Barabas?"
"He's a trusted friend. Otherwise, I find him indescribable. You'll simply have to meet him for yourselves."
"I'll need to speak with my Guardians about this," Catrin said, unsure of what to do, though it seemed she had little choice, having worn out her welcome.
"Yes, of course, I understand. But I'm afraid we have little time. If I am to guide you, we must leave this day. Soon I'll be entrenched in ceremony and ritual. I have but ten days before the rites of ascension begin, and I'll be hard pressed to make it back in time. Please do not delay."
"Thank you. Your kindness and support are greatly appreciated. I'll seek out my Guardians this instant and will return to you as soon as possible."
"I would do more if I could, but I am bound by my duties," he said as Catrin and Benjin departed for the First Inn. Before they closed the door behind themselves, though, he called after them. "Have you any weapons at the guardhouse?"
"Yes. Thank you for reminding me," Catrin replied.
"I'll write you a weapons pass so that you may arm yourselves," he said as he scribbled on a piece of parchment, closing it with his wax seal. "Just give this to the guard, and he will return your weapons. Keep it with you in case any of the guards stop you on your way back."
Catrin and Benjin spoke little during the long walk, but his presence alone was comforting. The uncertainty of her future consumed Catrin's thoughts. She considered Brother Vaughn's words regarding the boys, but she hated the thought of leaving them behind; they had all come so far together. But even if they stayed, at least she would not have to go alone.
Word of the attack preceded them. The streets were empty, and a somber pall hung over the common room at the First Inn. Chase, Strom, and Osbourne sat at a corner table. When Catrin and Benjin entered, they leaped from their chairs and rushed to greet them. Tears flowed freely as they shared their grief along with the joy of seeing one another. Benjin urged them back to the table. They huddled together, and Catrin rattled off the news in a whisper.
"No," Chase said. "I'll not be left behind to hide while you two go off into danger. I'll not hear of it."
"Now, Chase . . ." Benjin said.
"Absolutely not."
Catrin was torn. She didn't want to hurt Chase, but his presence would be a danger to her. A plan began to form in her mind, one that would never work, but at least it was a plan. She left the others to argue while she plotted the path in her mind, and she heard not a word they said. When her mind was set, she interrupted their debate.
"Benjin and I will depart this day. Brother Vaughn will guide us, and we'll make for Faulk. We should be able to blend in with the pilgrims until we reach the statue. I'll destroy the statue, and then we'll continue south to the coast." Chase tried to interrupt her, but she plowed over his efforts. "Chase, your task is most important. You will depart following the ascension ceremonies, when Brother Vaughn is available once again. You will locate us a ship and arrange for it to pick us up on the southern coast of Faulk. Strom and Osbourne will stay here and assist the Cathurans in their ventures until I send word. Agreed?"
"That's the craziest plan I've ever heard," Chase said, and Benjin chastised him with a look. "How are you going to destroy the statue? And once you do, how are you going to escape? And even if you manage to escape, which seems highly unlikely to me, how will you locate the ship along such a large coast?"
"We'll meet you at the most southern and western tip of Faulk, then. The rest I haven't figured out yet, but it is the best plan I have come up with so far."
"You've lost your senses," Chase muttered.
"Actually, I think much of her plan has merit," Benjin countered. "I agree there would be no good way to explain your presence travelling with us. Everyone on the Greatland of your age has already been conscripted. If you walk free, that marks you as either a traitor or deserter. It would seem the task Catrin assigned to you is the most dangerous of them all, but you've trained well for it, and I've faith in you. Catrin and I can travel in disguise. I'll be a lame old man and Catrin my youngest daughter. We can simply tell folks her brothers and sisters were conscripted, and she was left to care for me."
"I still don't like it," Chase said, but he seemed to realize the necessity of their separation.
"Neither do I," Catrin said. "If I had my choice, things would be much different, but they are what they are, and we must do the best we can given the circumstances."
Chase nodded in morose silence. Strom and Osbourne did not object to her forceful requests, and she truly believed they could help the Cathurans in some way. She worried about their safety, but security seemed to have vacated their world, leaving only fear and despair to fill the void.
"It's all so sad," Strom said. "I wish things could go back to the way they were. I don't want you to leave, but I understand. I just hope we really do get word from you someday soon. You do promise to come back for us, don't you?"
"I give you my word. If I'm able, I'll come back for you."
"And I give my word as well," Benjin added.
"You take good care of her," Chase said, his voice heavy with emotion as tears rimmed his eyes. He gave Benjin a tight hug and faced Catrin.
"It's a tough world out there, Cat, and I won't be there to grant your kills a quick death. Be strong, take care, and meet me on the shores of Faulk. I'll await you there." He managed to say it all without his voice cracking.
Catrin embraced him. She kissed him on the forehead and promised she would be there; nothing could keep her away.
After she retrieved her staff and her personal items from her room at the inn, she and Benjin left, waving farewell. It was surreal, walking away from the First Inn, intent upon leaving her companions, her Guardians, her friends. It was a painful parting, and despite her promises, she knew she would probably never see any of them again. Chase had been right; her plan was insane, and she didn't expect it to work, but at least she would leave this world doing the best she could. If there were some way she could avert the disastrous threat the Statue of Terhilian posed, then she would have done a great deal for the world. It was a worthy cause and, she supposed, one worth dying for.
"You mean to go through with your plan?" Benjin asked as they huddled against the icy winds.
"I don't know. I have to at least try to destroy the statue before it detonates, which is most likely suicide, but what other course of action could I take and keep a clear conscience?"
"We will just have to deal with the details along the way. We'll find some way to overcome the obstacles, you and I. We always do." His words offered Catrin a small amount of comfort, and she leaned on him as they walked. So many times he had been there for her; she did not know what she would do without him.
Captain Longarm was not in the guardhouse when they arrived, but another guard retrieved their weapons and returned the parchment to them. Benjin handed Catrin her knives and grabbed his own knife and sword. The rest he asked the guard to return to storage, and with that, they departed for the Inner Sanctuary.
Brother Vaughn looked nothing like himself when they returned. He was dressed in leathers with picks and hammers dangling from his belt. He wore a sturdy leather cap and gloves, and he slung a pack over his shoulder as they entered. Two more packs, near to overflowing, sat in a corner. Catrin and Benjin needed no prompting, and they shouldered the packs. Catrin stood with her staff in hand, trying to be confident, but her knees shook. This was perhaps the most dangerous parting yet.
"There is no time to waste. We must leave at once," Brother Vaughn said, but he stopped to flip through a book that contained charts and drawings of the moon.
"I must beg a favor of you," Catrin said. "I have a mission for Chase that requires him to depart after the ascension. Will you guide him?"
"It won't be easy. The rites of ascension are long and will require much of my time. I cannot abandon my responsibilities at such a crucial time, but I will find a way to accomplish it."
Catri
n nodded her thanks, aware she was asking a great deal of him, and also knowing he would keep his word regardless of the cost. She was glad he did not downplay the inconvenience; she valued his honesty, even if it did make her feel guilty. It was preferable to pretty lies.
Brother Vaughn led them to the main stairwell, and they descended to its base, where the air was icy and dank. Lanterns had been left for them, and only the light they shed kept the darkness at bay. From his pocket, Brother Vaughn retrieved a small sand clock, which he turned over and put back in his pocket.
The rough-hewn tunnels beneath Ohmahold often intersected with other tunnels and passages. After only a few turns, Catrin was completely lost. Several times, they passed monks working in the mines, using mules to pull cartloads of salt and ore.
"Much of our livestock is born and bred within the mines," Brother Vaughn said. "It saves us the need to hoist the animals, and it also provides a secure food source in the event of a siege. We've water, salt, ore, and, in some cases, light, all within the mining complexes. But until recently, there has only been one way in or out of the mines for the sake of security. Only when the salt miners tunneled into an existing mine did we realize the ancient complex even existed."
"What about the place where we will exit the mines. Is it well hidden?" Benjin asked.
"Extremely," Brother Vaughn replied as he checked his sand clock. "We need to move faster," he said as he strode ahead of them.
Most of the tunnels looked exactly alike, rough-hewn rock supported by wooden buttresses and joists. The wood was treated with creosote and kept in good condition, but Catrin still felt like the mountain might crush her under its weight.
After what seemed like a day of walking, they reached a rough section of tunnel that ended in an oblong breach.
"This shaft leads to the ancient mines, but it is quite a drop to the floor below. Take care when you enter," Brother Vaughn said as he climbed through the opening. Benjin followed, and Catrin heard his low whistle when he reached the floor. She handed her staff down to him, and she dropped through the orifice. The fall was farther than she anticipated, and she landed hard, knocking the breath from her.
The floor on which she lay was cut into geometric patterns, and though covered with grime, they were still a marvel. The tunnel dwarfed those recently mined. The walls were cut smooth and straight, and the ceiling was lost in the darkness. Evenly spaced arches supported the tunnel, and they were carved with images of trees and flowers. Some bore images of wildlife, but no human forms were present. Catrin dusted herself off and turned in a full circle, taking in the majesty of the place.
Brother Vaughn did not give her long to enjoy the sights, though, as he set off at a brisk pace after once again checking his sand clock. The floors were level and the tunnels free of debris, which made for easy traveling. Intersections came and went, but Brother Vaughn gave them scarcely a glance as he passed them. The only indication that he noticed them at all was his mumbled count incremented at each one. When he reached what Catrin thought was the twelfth nearly identical intersection, he turned right.
The turn made Catrin feel they had made progress, and she fooled herself into thinking the journey was near complete. It seemed impossible that the mines could go on much farther, and the monotony of it played tricks with her mind. When Brother Vaughn called for a rest, Catrin had no idea how long they had been walking. Time seemed to lose meaning beneath the land, and Brother Vaughn's desire to keep track of the hours was starting to seem more reasonable.
They ate in silence, each consumed with his or her own thoughts. The salted beef satiated Catrin's hunger, but her spirit was restless. She missed the sun and stars, and though they had been in the mines only a short time, she felt separated from Istra's energy. The lack of power made her feel vulnerable, and she pulled the noonstones from the gilded box. They felt wonderful in her hands. She rolled them in her palm and let them soothe her, not drawing any of the energy they held in reserve; instead, she just basked in their existence and the security they gave her.
An enormous arch loomed in the distance. Like the gates to a dark dimension, it was guarded by a multiheaded serpent whose fangs dripped with venom. Though carved from stone, it was a fearsome sight, and Catrin was loath to enter such a mystical portal. Brother Vaughn paid it no mind, and the serpent did not strike him as he passed through, but Catrin felt the reptilian stare intensely, and she had a vision of the beast coming to life. It was almost as if the carvings spoke to her: "Your descendents will pay dearly for your trespass," said the vision. Catrin shivered as if it were a premonition rather than the conjuring of her frightened mind. Benjin seemed troubled as well, and he looked over his shoulder frequently, which drove Catrin to do the same. She felt as if she were an intruder, and she half expected an army of ancients to descend upon them.
Beyond the intimidating arch lay a domed room that seemed impossibly large. Every part of the walls, with the exception of periodic archways, was carved to resemble a forest, and the detail boggled the mind. It was as if she stood in the center of a grove of stone, where each leaf, branch, and trunk was a masterpiece. Birds soared through the skies, and butterflies rested on rose petals. Even without motion, the enormous waterfall seemed alive, so clever was the craftsmanship.
"I would speculate these mines were in use for at least a thousand years," Brother Vaughn said, seeing the looks of awe on their faces. "I do not see how such mastery could have been achieved in any shorter span of time."
Catrin felt oddly at home among the still trees, and she almost didn't want to leave the hall, but Brother Vaughn moved steadily toward the fourth archway on their right. She ran her fingers along the magnificent carvings and marveled at smooth lines and lifelike curves. Some of the leaves were so thin, she imagined she could see through them, and she wondered how they could have been created. To see such delicate forms made from rock seemed impossible, yet it stood before her in all its glory.
As they exited the cavernous dome, Catrin glanced back at the archway and saw that it, too, was guarded by a mighty serpent. She could feel its eyes on her back, and she looked over her shoulder twice as often as Benjin. When a loud sound echoed through the halls, they froze. Straining their ears, they tried to figure out where the noise had come from, but the acoustics of the mine made it nearly impossible to pinpoint, and Brother Vaughn grew nervous. He looked over his shoulder as often as Catrin and Benjin, which did not make either of them feel any better, but they left their concerns unspoken.
The halls once again became a monotonous blur, and the dull cadence of their steps, a lullaby. Exhaustion dogged Catrin, and every step was a struggle. She leaned on Benjin, and they shuffled along together. Her vision blurred as she walked in a stupor, kept upright by only Benjin and her staff. Not wanting to complain, she did her best to deal with the fatigue, but it was overpowering. Her eyelids were leaden, her eyes burned, and she let Benjin guide her.
"We have to stop," Benjin said.
Brother Vaughn suddenly became aware of Catrin's condition. "Yes, yes, of course. Please forgive me. I should have realized."
Catrin slid to the floor and curled into a ball as soon as Benjin stopped. The throbbing in her head made it difficult to formulate any coherent thoughts, and she cradled her head in her hands. Benjin offered her food, but she refused. Her appetite had fled, and only pain and misery filled its place. As much as she would have liked to sleep, though, she remained awake and restless. Obscure fears and anxieties nagged at her, and she was helpless against them.
Would the Zjhon capture them? Would Chase survive his quest for a ship? Did Ohmahold stand any chance against the encroaching siege? The uncertainty gnawed at her, and she felt responsible for too many lives--too many futures. Her confidence waned, and she wondered how she could have been so foolish as to act on her ridiculous plan. There was little chance of success and an even smaller chance of survival. Her mind tormented her with all the possible ways she could die. Fires scorched her skin, axes cl
eaved her, swords severed limbs, and arrows pierced her flesh.
Unable to contain her pain, she wept, and Benjin pulled her close. With his powerful arms around her, she felt almost safe; he would keep the horrors at bay. Still, it took her far too long to find sleep, which she knew she would regret on the morrow.
* * *
Rolling into a tucked position, Chase hesitated only a moment before he sprang. He took three steps then launched himself into the air, tumbling and swinging at the same time. The crack of the impact echoed off the mountains, and Captain Longarm dropped to one knee, clutching his thigh.
"I'm going to feel that in the morning," he said.
"Sorry," Chase said.
"You've gotten better, but I'm getting too old to take that kind of beating, maybe one of your friends will spar with you," Captain Longarm said, pointing to where Strom and Osbourne stood talking to a pair of girls who'd come to watch the spectacle.
"Oh no. Not me. No, sir," Strom said as they approached. "You'll have to find someone else to beat on. My hands are my trade."
"Your trade, huh? I thought you were going to be a stable hand the rest of your life," Chase said.
"You heard me. I'm to be a great smith. Perhaps, if you're nice to me, I'll make you a real sword."
"Don't look at me," Osbourne said as Captain Longarm turned a questioning gaze to him. "I'm still sore from last time."
"I suppose you're just going to have to find a real enemy to take your frustrations out on, young man," Captain Longarm said, and he turned to leave.
"Thanks for everything, Burrel. Sorry about the bruises," Chase said, but Captain Longarm just waved his apology off. Still breathing hard, Chase sat on a nearby stump and regained his breath. There was no excuse for his hitting Burrel as hard as he had, but he could not stand waiting any longer. As foolish as he thought Catrin's plans were, he was still determined to do his part, and soon he would leave the shelter of Ohmahold; he needed to be ready. For today, though, all he could do was wait.
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