The stairs led them onto the second tier, out under the stars once more. Drawing a breath of fresh, moist air, Kagur felt a trace of queasiness depart. She'd escaped the indefinable and possibly hallucinatory skew inside the ziggurat. She and her comrades crept onward, looking for another way into the pyramid, or, better still, an external staircase, ladders, creepers, or even weathered, broken spots running up the tiers. While trying not to be obvious about it, they stuck close to the wall to make it more difficult for creatures on the ledges above to see them.
From time to time, bits of sibilant conversation drifted down from overhead. Then something snapped, drums pattered, and a line of xulgaths came whirling down the shelf in a frenzied, capering dance. Each reptile repeatedly cracked a whip consisting of a peculiar-looking length of leather—the preserved tentacle of some creature like a seugathi?—with a long, curved talon at the end, and periodically, it lashed a fellow dancer or one of the several tom-tom players who marched behind them. The claws snagged and tore flesh, but no one cried out or faltered for more than an instant.
Kagur assumed the xulgaths were shamans of Zevgavizeb conducting a rite. She likewise assumed that if they were willing to flog one another, slaves were fair game, too. Though the xulgaths were out toward the center of the ledge some distance from the next stair-step up, she and her comrades pressed themselves against the wall to make themselves as inconspicuous as possible.
Unfortunately, the procession veered toward them anyway. Kagur wondered if her companions, particularly the Skulltakers, had the forbearance to endure the stroke of a whip without retaliating. She also wondered how many of them would still be fit to fight after the dancers finished with them.
Maybe she and her companions needed to fight. Just hope it went fast and quietly and they could hide the bodies afterward. She slipped her hand into her bundle, and then Holg stepped toward the xulgaths.
"Noble masters," he said, his words timed to the drumbeats, "all praise to the mighty lord of caverns ..."
For a moment, Kagur's eyelids drooped. When they snapped up again, she realized Holg was trying to beguile the xulgaths as he had the Fivespears warriors.
Seized by the magic, the reptiles apparently didn't see anything strange about an old human slave with cloudy eyes offering praise to their demon god. Nor did they balk when Holg managed a clumsy imitation of their capering and led them safely past the rest of the raiders.
But he couldn't dance their dance without suffering the consequences. One whip ripped open his tunic and scored the skin above his ribs, and another snagged and gashed his thigh.
Still, he maintained the lulling rhythm of his prattle while he gradually allowed the other dancers and the drummers to pass him by. Then he cavorted and spun in place until they disappeared into the dark.
Kagur ran to him. "Are you all right?" she asked.
"I didn't know if that would work," he wheezed. "If their ritual hadn't already been stup ...stupefying them in its own way, I don't think it ..." His knees buckled.
Kagur caught him and sat him down. "I said, are you all right?"
"I will be. I just need ..." He clutched his fetishes through his tunic and gritted out a prayer. The bleeding stopped as the gashes closed.
Still, he lost his balance when he stood up, and she had to catch him again. "Sit back down," he said. "Catch your breath."
He shook his head. "We can't afford to linger in one place. It's too risky. I just need a little more magic." He recited the same restorative prayer as before. "There. That's got it."
She let go of him but stood ready to grab hold once more if necessary. "Are you sure?"
"Yes." He frowned. "I just hate to spend so much power when we're likely to need it for other things. There was a time ...never mind. Onward!"
Not long after, they found a way back into the pyramid. Presumably, if they entered, they'd eventually come upon a set of stairs that ran up to the next tier.
Kagur wondered why they couldn't just find one long staircase that went all the way from the bottom to the top. Maybe there was a defensive or religious reason. Or maybe such an ascent did exist, but it was hidden in the lightless core of the structure.
As before, the green-lit corridors and the chambers to either side gave her the nagging sense that the right angles and basic symmetry masked some festering peculiarity. She tried to concentrate on other things.
Though she didn't see any signs they cooked it, this appeared to be the area where the xulgaths prepared their food. Fruit and tubers sat in baskets of woven reed, and lizards and beetles the size of badgers crouched, hissed, and clicked their mandibles in wooden cages.
There were no caged men or orcs, but she did spot two corpses with much of the flesh flensed away, the ribs cracked to permit removal of the heart, liver, and other organs, and the eyes scooped from their sockets. Presumably, when the xulgaths hungered for such meat, they simply brought slaves up from below.
No one was preparing any meals now, though, and as the raiders trudged past a series of doorways opening into one large chamber, they were afforded a look at how the xulgaths that presumably worked in the area spent their leisure time. Seated in a circle, several were passing a flat, sharp-edged piece of flint around. Each swallowed the stone and regurgitated it before handing it to the next.
As Kagur passed the last opening, one xulgath failed to bring the flint up. Retching, it clutched at its throat, and a mix of blood and spit spilled through its fangs.
None of the other xulgaths tried to help it. They didn't even laugh. They just stared, drinking in their fellow's distress.
As before, the raiders eventually came to a place where blackness lay before them, but stairs ascended on the left. When they reached the next tier, Kagur once again savored the fresh air and the relief from the oppressive atmosphere inside.
She assumed these wouldn't last, and she was right. She and her companions still couldn't find a way up the outside of the ziggurat, and when they came to another opening, they exchanged resigned glances and crept back inside.
Into an area where xulgath warriors lived. In one room, the reptiles sparred with staves, two against two. In another, half a dozen administered a beating to another that had its hands bound behind its back and its fanged jaws tied shut. In an armory stocked with spears, javelins, and hatchets, a craftsman swung a club to test the weight and balance, then went back to whittling it.
Wide-eyed, Rho slipped up beside Kagur. "The blue giant's a warrior," he whispered.
"But not an ordinary one," Kagur replied. "A sacred one, in the xulgaths' estimation. He'll be at the top of the pyramid."
She had no way of knowing that for certain. But with slaves at the bottom, xulgath laborers above them, and warriors next, it seemed a likely progression, and when she happened to glance at Holg, he gave a slight nod of agreement that pleased her and made her feel patronized in equal measure.
Above the habitations of the common warriors was a tier where, by the looks of it, their chieftains lived with more privacy and amenities. On the level above that, the shrines began.
Many contained a vertical spike of bloodstained stone jutting from the center of the floor. The demon god to whom the sacrificial implements belonged was a blend of longstrider, worm, and bat, with tentacles thrown in for good measure.
The xulgaths had carved and painted Zevgavizeb's image on freestanding wooden screens, but not the walls. Maybe even they recognized the wrongness lurking in the stonework and feared to agitate it.
In time, Kagur spied what she assumed to be the doorway to another staircase at the point where the green light failed. But like the entry on the bottom tier, this one was protected.
In fact, it was better protected. A guard with a spear stood to either side of it, while a shaman armed with a claw-whip perched on a stool, studying the writing on a sheet of hide. But the truly impressive guardian was a giant reptile of the breed the cave dwellers called clubtails. Somewhat resembling a turtle, only with rows of
pointed extrusions lining its shell, it swept its long tail back and forth on the floor, scraping the ridged knob at the end against the stone.
Obedient though the clubtail evidently was, Kagur wondered fleetingly how the xulgaths had conveyed such a huge beast to its present location. Probably when it was a baby or even an egg. And here it would stay in the gloom for the rest of its life, too huge ever to pass through the opening onto the exterior walkway and see the sun.
Together with its keepers, it seemed a formidable obstacle. Still, the raiders' imposture had fooled every xulgath so far, and so Kagur opted to press on.
The reptilian warriors noticed the newcomers first. The one of the right said, "Look," and they leveled their spears in a casual way. The clubtail grunted and lumbered around to face the intruders, too.
The shaman hopped off the stool. "What are you doing?" it snarled.
Kagur tried to cringe convincingly and speak humbly. "Bringing things for the masters up above."
The xulgath blinked. "What are you talking about? Slaves aren't allowed that high. You shouldn't even be here without an acolyte overseeing you."
She bobbed her head. "Sorry. We're lost, then. We'll go back down." She turned, and her companions followed her lead.
"Stop!" snapped the shaman. "I want a better look at you."
If the creature scrutinized the intruders closely, that would be the end of the deception. Even if it didn't examine the bundles, none of the raiders were gaunt enough to pass for slaves, and though most bore scars, the scars weren't whip marks.
Kagur glanced at Holg to ask without words if he had any magic likely to fool the reptile and keep it fooled. The old man gave a tiny shake of his head.
They had to fight, then. And even though it would have been far better to avoid any fight short of the one with Eovath, a part of her was glad to stop groveling before xulgaths and start killing the filthy things.
She took hold of the hilt of Jorn Blacklion's longsword. When the reptilian shaman padded up behind her, she drew, turned, and cut in one smooth motion. The blade sheared through the xulgath's throat, and it fell down thrashing with blood spurting from the wound.
At her back, Holg chanted to the spirits. Behind the fallen shaman, the two warriors faltered, then came on guard and retreated back down the passage. Their jaws opened, presumably to cry for help.
But though their mouths worked, nothing came out. In fact, Kagur could no longer hear sound from anywhere. Evidently, Holg's magic had enveloped the corridor in supernatural quiet to keep other xulgaths from hearing the fight.
Kagur dodged around the still-convulsing shaman to silence the warriors permanently. Now gripping their own weapons, her comrades charged with her.
But the xulgaths kept scrambling backward while the clubtail ran forward until its bulk and lashing tail virtually blocked the passage. Suddenly, it was the foe the intruders were closing with, and with their enormous ally now covering their retreat, the sentries bolted for the staircase.
With only her sword in her hand and the clubtail barring the way, Kagur had no chance of stopping them. She hoped Holg could do it with a prayer, then realized the silence likely precluded further magic.
Rho had a javelin, though. He scurried close to the oncoming clubtail, and then, despite the looming peril and the fact that the guards had nearly reached the doorway, took a moment to aim as he had when he'd finally killed his bird. Then he threw, and the javelin arced over the giant reptile and pierced a sentry between two of the ragged frills on its spine. The xulgath collapsed.
Just as dangerously close to the clubtail, Ikolch sidled to find a spot from which she could make a throw. By the time she did, the remaining xulgath was scrambling through the doorway. Still, her javelin caught it in the ribs. It stumbled a final step and collapsed, most of it hidden inside the opening but its twitching feet and tail protruding back into the passage. The orc leader leered.
Then the clubtail smashed her head and flung her to the floor.
Kagur cut at the giant reptile, and her blade slashed it between the beak and eyes. Vom and a Skulltaker wounded it, too. Still, it kept coming.
The confines of the corridor sometimes fouled the huge reptile's tail when it tried to strike and hindered it when it tried to turn. Unfortunately, they hemmed in the creature's foes as well.
Perhaps looking for a vulnerable spot to chop with his hatchet, a Dragonfly darted along the clubtail's flank. Reacting to a different threat entirely, the reptile lurched sideways and shoved the warrior into the wall. The claw-like growths jutting from its shell punched through his torso.
His mouth working, bellowing even though neither he, the clubtail, nor anyone else could hear it, Dalk jabbed at the reptile's beak. The tail whirled through the air to bludgeon him.
Dalk jumped back and dropped his spear. When the appendage hammered down in front of him, he pounced, wrapped his arms around it, and held on as the creature heaved it back up into the air.
Seemingly startled, the clubtail balked. In another moment, it would no doubt pound its tail down again, or else lash it into a wall, pulverizing Dalk. Except that Kagur didn't intend to give it the chance. She charged and drove her sword point into the base of its neck, just shy of the place where the plated shell began.
The clubtail shuddered. Dalk dropped from its tail and reeled backward just before the appendage started whipping back and forth, but no longer at anything in particular. The battering only chipped and cracked the surrounding stonework and knocked a green lamp down. When the flailing subsided, the reptile collapsed.
Now gripping his staff, Holg hurried to the warrior who lay against the wall with his shredded viscera bulging from the tear in his chest. The shaman surveyed the body, then shook his head.
Kagur felt obliged to make a similar inspection even though Ikolch's head was nothing but blood and mush. But Nesteruk beat her to the corpse. As he peered down at it, she couldn't help remembering how it had felt to peer down at her own butchered kin. She hesitantly put her hand on his shoulder.
He pivoted toward her with no sign of tears welling in his bloodshot eyes, nor any hint of weakness in his face. Just rage. Just hate. For some reason, that ferocity made her feel approval and regret at the same time.
Nesteruk tried to speak and then remembered the silence. He jabbed his fingers at the stairs.
She nodded. It was time to finish their climb and claim their revenge.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The Chamber of Spikes
Bundles abandoned, every weapon now ready to hand, Kagur and her surviving companions climbed the steps. Sound returned. Though he appeared to be trying to control it, Holg's breath wheezed in and out of his skinny chest.
As before, the raiders skulked along a shelf seeking a doorway. When they found it, Kagur peeked in and gasped.
When she'd first glimpsed the Vault in all its verdant, sunlit vastness, she'd had the disorienting feeling that some agency had whisked her back to the surface world. Now she could almost imagine she'd magically stumbled back into one of the caves of Nar-Voth, with countless stalactites hanging and stalagmites stabbing upward.
But when she looked more carefully, the flatness of the ceiling and floor marred the illusion. The xulgaths had either harvested genuine stalactites and stalagmites from real caves elsewhere or sculpted imitations, then glued them here to create a fitting holy of holies for their demon master.
Once Kagur figured out that much, it likewise occurred to her that the internal layout of the ziggurat, which had varied little through the tiers below, had finally changed significantly. She wasn't peering down a corridor, but rather into a chamber so big it might well take up the entire level, although the countless spiky obstructions and the green-tinged darkness made it impossible to be sure.
Sibilant chanting and a padding sound echoed from somewhere inside.
Eovath was among the xulgaths performing the ritual, whatever it was, and Kagur didn't need to see one of Holg's fetishes crawl
to confirm it. She could feel it. She took a breath, laid an arrow on her longbow, and led her comrades through the opening.
They fanned out as they advanced, the better to watch for trouble and find the quickest path to their quarry. Still, they sometimes had to squirm their way through narrow gaps between one stalagmite and the next or stoop under clumps of exceptionally long stalactites. Occasionally, a cluster of stony spikes was simply impassable, and then they had to backtrack.
In fact, the chamber was enough of a maze that Kagur was glad they had the chanting to lead them onward. Otherwise, they might have gotten turned around.
At the periphery of her vision, a shadow shifted. She pivoted. Its crimson markings gray in the emerald glow, a redstripe had oriented on her and was opening its jaws to screech.
She drove her arrow into the back of its mouth, fortunately to more effect than when she'd hit Old Scar in the same spot. The redstripe fell.
Rolling and thrashing against stalagmites, the reptile still threatened to make enough noise to warn Eovath and the xulgaths. But Vom rushed up and thrust his spear into it until its convulsions subsided.
Kagur listened. She couldn't hear any change in the noise up ahead.
She looked at Vom. He gave her a nod to indicate that he, too, believed their foes were still unaware of their approach.
As she and her comrades skulked onward, she watched for the zone where green phosphorescence and shadow would give way to utter darkness. Beyond that point, Holg would have to ask the spirits for light, making further stealth impossible.
But they never came to such a threshold. As Kagur had suspected, the top of the pyramid was all one room, and unlike the levels below, crystal lamps glued to the wall, stalactites, and ceiling glowed all the way across.
She realized as much when she finally caught sight of the open space at the center.
The xulgaths had apparently left it uncluttered so they could perform ceremonies like the one in progress. In the heart of the space rose a longer version of the bloodstained stone spikes Kagur had seen in the lesser shrines. The naked body of an orc—she couldn't tell if he was still alive—hung impaled on it.
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