Clad in voluminous but ragged layers of scaly hide—intended, she suspected, to suggest the wings, tentacles, and tail of Zevgavizeb—a dozen xulgaths were simultaneously chanting and capering around the sacrifice. Eovath wore the same tattered vestments but stood apart in front of several carved and painted screens. Maybe his devotion to Rovagug precluded him taking an active part in observances to another power.
Kagur felt the same fierce urge she had atop the cliff, to forgo archery and fight him face to face and blade to blade. And it might be feasible. She and he had about the same number of allies. It would be a fair fight.
Fair, but stupid and selfish. She couldn't ask Holg, the Dragonflies, and the Skulltakers to run even greater risks just so she could drink as deeply as possible from the cup of revenge. Even the orcs deserved better.
She looked back and forth at her comrades, each crouched behind cover of one sort or another, each ready to hurl a javelin or, in Holg's case, to flick and spin his staff through mystic passes. Then she stepped into the open, drew, and loosed.
The arrow hit Eovath in the center of the chest. A volley of javelins followed, and some of those struck Eovath, too. The cave dwellers were happy to slaughter xulgaths whenever possible, but they understood their mission was to kill the blue giant.
As surely the barrage had done. Even a frost giant couldn't survive an arrow in the heart and half a dozen javelins stabbing into his body. Kagur was so sure of it that it took her an instant to realize her eyes were telling her something different.
The impacts staggered Eovath. But her arrow snapped, and the javelins glanced off. He was evidently wearing some sort of armor under the ragged vestments, and flint arrow- and spearheads couldn't pierce it.
Kagur wondered where he'd obtained the protection. Lady Ssa's marketplace, maybe. She wondered, too, why he hadn't been wearing it when she'd found him summoning the threehorn at the bottom of the cliff. But at that point, he hadn't known she'd tracked him to Orv, and, like her coat of leather, his armor was likely uncomfortable in the jungle heat.
Such thoughts, though, didn't slow her hand as she reached for a second arrow. This time, she'd shoot him in the face.
Eovath, however, denied her the opportunity. As she drew the fletchings back to her ear, he dived behind one of the screens carved and painted with Zevgavizeb's likeness. Meanwhile, the xulgaths that had come through the initial attack unscathed—about half of them—also scrambled for cover.
Kagur drew her sword and bellowed, "Get them!" She and her comrades plunged out into the open.
Now hidden, a xulgath snarled an incantation. Eovath shouted, "Come! Kill!" and his words too bore a hammering weight of power that made a listener want to twitch.
Utter darkness smothered the dim green phosphorescence. A Dragonfly cried out. In surprise, Kagur hoped, not distress.
She herself shouted, "Holg!" Needlessly, for at the same instant, the old man started praying.
He did so rapidly enough that it only took him a moment to restore the emerald glow. Still, by that time, three more redstripes were racing into the open space.
One of the reptiles sprang at Kagur. She sidestepped and slashed open its flank. It whirled to come at her again, and a Skulltaker swung his stone hatchet into its spine. The redstripe fell.
Kagur looked around. Her comrades were holding their own against the remaining redstripes. She ran toward the screen where Eovath had taken cover.
He wasn't right behind it anymore. But despite the stalagmites in the way, she spotted him making a hobbling retreat with blood running down his thigh. One of the javelins had found him where his new armor didn't cover.
The brother she'd loved would have stood and fought regardless. But Rovagug's corrupted minion had more pragmatic inclinations.
She plunged after him. Spotting her, he halted and came on guard. As she closed the distance, she caught a first glimpse of the architectural feature toward which he'd drawn her.
It was the staircase she'd conjectured might exist in the core of the ziggurat. But was the patch of floor surrounding the stairwell slanted or level? Was the opening itself square or trapezoidal, and did the flights of steps descending into blackness lie straight or dogleg? Everything shifted from one instant to the next, or maybe everything was every way simultaneously, in a manner that hurt and dazzled the eye.
The sight stunned her. At that moment, his wounded leg plainly less of an impediment than he'd made it appear, Eovath rushed her, whirling his axe at her head.
She leaped away, a frantic effort that carried her too far to permit an immediate riposte. But with the spectacle of the stairwell muddling her, she was lucky she'd managed any defense at all.
The axe whizzed by short of its target. Eovath grinned the way he had when they'd merely been practicing in the Blacklion camp and she'd impressed him with deft blade- or footwork.
"Amazing, isn't it?" He shifted his axe to indicate the stairwell, probably in the hope that she'd glance back at it. "Fascinating and repulsive at the same time. Think of all the miraculous things you would never have seen if you hadn't followed me into the Darklands. And yet you still can't forgive me the circumstances."
She sidestepped in an attempt to put the staircase behind her, so she wouldn't have to worry about seeing it and Eovath wouldn't be able to avoid it unless he turned his back on her as well. But he shifted right along with her, which left the vile seething at the edge of her vision.
"What's wrong with this place?" she asked. She didn't care, but she could use one more moment to shake off the lingering disorientation.
"The xulgaths don't know," Eovath answered. "They didn't build the pyramid. They just discovered it and claimed it for their own. Why not? It's directly under the sun, and they know power when they feel it. But even they won't go all the way to the cen—"
He lunged, feinted to the head, and struck at her waist. She slipped the blow, sliced his forearm, and cut at his chest.
Her sword rang and glanced off some dull black substance under the tattered clothing. Whatever the cuirass was made of, it could withstand even enchanted steel.
"Do you like my breastplate?" Eovath asked. "The xulgaths found it when they first came here. A seer prophesied that one day the champion who could wear it would lead them to greatness."
He feinted low and cut high. Kagur pivoted out of the way.
As she did, the stairwell swung into her field of vision. For an instant, she suffered the dizzying sensation that it was actually the world that was spinning while she was standing still. Snarling, she refused to let the rippling distortion into her head. She kept pivoting until Eovath was in front of her again.
When the giant too finished turning, he rushed at her, and she put her point in line. He lurched to a halt to avoid spitting himself. The green glow of the crystals gleamed on their weapons.
"You're slower than I remember," she said. "No wonder, with all the blood pouring down your leg."
Eovath leered. "I don't remember you ever using taunts to rattle an opponent. I thought you believed such ploys were beneath you."
"Anything," Kagur said, "to finish this quickly. I want to kill you all by myself. And my companions are almost done with the xulgaths."
She was saying it to unsettle him, but it was also true. She'd caught glimpses of the rest of the battle as the two of them advanced, retreated, and shifted to one side or the other.
All the redstripes were down, which obliged the surviving xulgaths to defend themselves with knives, claws, fangs, and magic. The latter was potent. Spell-induced terror had sent Dalk recoiling from one of the reptilian shamans, and though it barely grazed its target, the swipe of a different xulgath's hand ripped an orc's arm from biceps to wrist. Yet the raiders had their own magic in the person of Holg, and so their superior numbers still gave them an edge. One by one, their foes were dropping.
But now hissing voices sounded from the direction of the doorway. A fresh redstripe raced out of the stalagmites, and Vom spu
n around to meet it.
Despite the evidence to the contrary, a part of Kagur had still doubted Eovath—her companion since childhood, a constant in what had once been a simple, normal life—could truly become the anointed champion of some mighty supernatural entity. But she believed it at this moment, for surely the giant possessed luck that only an evil god could give.
If the spearbeaks had attacked just a moment later, Eovath would have died beneath the cliff. If she'd only glimpsed the armor under his scaly vestments and shifted her aim accordingly, he would have perished when she loosed at him tonight. And now this!
One of the reptilian shamans had slipped past the intruders and gone for help. Or maybe someone had found the dead bodies on the tier below. However it had happened, xulgath reinforcements were arriving.
But by Gorum, except for the one redstripe, they hadn't worked their way through the thickets of stalagmites yet! Kagur had a little more time to kill Eovath, and nothing else would matter after that.
She hurled herself at the giant. His blue skin itself tinged green by the crystals, he gave ground before her. He heard fresh xulgaths coming, too, and so was fighting defensively and playing for time. It made it even more difficult to penetrate his guard.
"Coward!" she panted.
"Surrender," he answered, likewise sounding winded. "I swear by the Rough Beast, I'll spare your life."
It occurred to her then that, just as she'd never truly known him, he'd apparently never understood her, either.
She drove in hard, striking relentlessly, dodging his infrequent but vicious ripostes and counterattacks by the narrowest of margins. If she kept it up, some attack would score in the time she had left. It had to!
As they maneuvered, she caught more glimpses of the rest of the battle. Some of her allies had turned to confront the reptiles advancing through the stalagmites. Holg jabbed with his staff, and white light lanced from the end to burn a redstripe's jaws and eyes. His spear point shifting back and forth, Vom battled two xulgaths at once. Screaming, Nesteruk hurled himself at one foe after another while Rho struggled to keep anyone from taking advantage of the other boy's recklessness and flanking him.
By now, the warriors of the highlands must realize they were about to die. But no one faltered. They meant to go down fighting.
Good. That was what they needed to do to buy Kagur time to finish Eovath.
Yet as she made one attack after another, her brother parried, and steel clanged on steel, she realized it was just possible her allies didn't have to die. Even with the oncoming xulgaths between them and the door, there was still a way out of here. The cave dwellers just couldn't see if it from where they were standing.
Maybe that was just as well. But curse it, Rho and Nesteruk were still boys, even if they were fighting like full-grown men. Their young lives shouldn't end like this, especially the orc's.
She stepped back from Eovath. "This way!" she shouted. "Down the stairs!"
Eovath snorted. "You're not doing your friends a kindness. In times past, xulgaths tried to explore the inner chambers. None ever came out."
"We will," Kagur said.
And maybe the giant believed they actually had a chance. Shifting his axe from side to side, he came back on the attack. She advanced to meet him.
As they struck, parried, and evaded, her allies made a fighting retreat toward the stairs. Some of them cried out when they saw their goal. Some even balked. His voice harsh and breathless, Holg urged them on.
Meanwhile, Kagur still couldn't slip another cut past Eovath's guard. Willing to take a stroke from the axe if she could kill him in the same moment, she forsook defense for pure aggression.
Yet even that wasn't sufficient. She pushed the giant back, but that was all.
From the corner of her eye, she spotted a pair of xulgaths advancing on her with spears leveled. She realized all her comrades had retreated past her, and thus were no longer in position to hold the reptiles back.
Her every instinct told her to keep assailing Eovath anyway. One more moment, one more slash, might be all it took to drop him.
Still, she whirled and bolted for the stairwell, dodging and twisting through stalagmites as she fled. Her sudden dash caught Eovath by surprise, but after a moment, he pounded after her. So did the xulgaths. A thrown flint knife spun past her head.
A redstripe lunged from behind a cluster of stony spikes. She dodged, twisted at the waist, and snatching foreclaws clicked shut just short of her cheek.
She slashed at a leg as she plunged past and thought she heard the beast fall, although she wasn't sure. The thump, if indeed there was one, was hard to distinguish from the overall noise of the pursuit.
She rounded more stalagmites and the stairwell appeared before her. Maybe all her comrades had already descended. As far as she could tell, no one else was near the edge anymore.
It was difficult to tell anything for certain, though, with her sight addled. Alternately pentagonal and so acutely trapezoidal as to be nearly triangular, the opening revolved like a wheel.
Where did the actual steps begin? Like everything else, their position wavered from one instant to the next.
Reptiles hissed and screeched at her back. Eovath bellowed the name of his god.
Kagur leaped down at the spot where she thought there was a stair, and one foot landed at the very edge of it, half on and half off. Her balance shifted, and she toppled toward the empty space at the center of the shaft.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The Heart of the Pyramid
Wood clattered, and hands gripped Kagur's sword arm. Though she hadn't seen him when she jumped, Holg had caught hold of her. He strained to heave her to safety, but instead, her weight dragged him toward the drop, too.
He'd delayed her fall for a moment, though, and that was time enough for Vom to scramble up a couple steps, grab each of them with one hand or the other, and yank them toward him. They all fell on the hard stone steps in a tangle, but that was better than plummeting over the side.
"Get up!" Kagur gasped. "Keep going!"
Holg fumbled up the staff he'd dropped so he could grab her, and they staggered on down the writhing stairs. Kagur sheathed her sword and ran her fingers along the cold stone wall. She was afraid that if she didn't, she still might blunder off the opposite side of the steps.
A moment later, the xulgaths demonstrated that though they feared to pursue their foes into the core of the ziggurat, they were willing to fling missiles after them. Flying in impossible snaking trajectories, javelins and hatchets cracked and rattled on the steps. Fortunately, none found its mark.
The rest of the surviving raiders were waiting in a space adjacent to the foot of the flight of stairs. At first glance, Kagur wasn't sure how wide the room was or if the ceiling was high or low. But she was reasonably certain no one at the top of the steps could throw a javelin into it. That made it a reasonable haven in which to regroup, especially since only the slightest hint of green phosphorescence reached down this far. The gloom mercifully masked some of the flickering inconstancy.
Unfortunately, Nesteruk was apparently unwilling to allow her a moment simply to catch her breath. Tusked mouth snarling and eyes glaring, bloody hatchet clenched in one fist and gory knife in the other, he stalked toward her while Rho scurried after as though he still needed to protect him.
"You stopped us!" Nesteruk snarled. "The blue giant is still alive, and you made us run!"
"Shut up," Kagur said, the smells of blood and sweat in the air churning her stomach. They wouldn't have bothered her normally, but despite the partial protection the dimness afforded, they were nauseating in combination with the warping of her sight. For a moment, Nesteruk's neck extended from his torso at an unnatural angle, like someone had broken it.
"You said killing the giant was more important than anything!" the boy ranted. "But—"
Kagur punched him in the nose. He floundered back into Rho, who lifted his hands to restrain him if he started forward to st
rike back. But the punch appeared to have startled the orc out of his fury, not heightened it, and he simply gaped at her.
"I made a decision, and I gave an order," she said. "Soon, I'll give more, and you'll obey. Understand?"
Blood sliding from his left nostril, Nesteruk mumbled.
"I asked if you understand."
"Yes!"
She looked around. Dalk was watching up the stairs. Good. Someone should, even though she was fairly certain the xulgaths wouldn't summon up the nerve to follow them down.
The next step was to take stock of her allies. In addition to the boys, Dalk, Vom, and Holg, she had three Dragonflies and five Skulltakers left, which was better than she'd expected. But one of the humans, a warrior named Bolta, was turning his club over and over in his hands like he'd never seen such a strange object before, while two of the orcs were bleeding.
She was about to ask Holg to help them when Eovath gave an echoing call down the stairwell: "Sister!"
Her whole body clenched. "What?"
"Good! You're still alive. From the tales the xulgaths tell, I was afraid you might be dead already."
"What do you want?"
"To challenge you to finish what we started. Come back up. We'll fight in single combat for your life and the lives of your friends. I promise, the reptiles won't interfere."
"You must not be sure we're going to die down here. Otherwise, you wouldn't offer."
"You're wrong. I'm offering you a choice between a quick, honorable death and a horrible, uncanny one. This is my one last attempt to show you kindness."
She sneered. "Or maybe you're afraid I will escape and come at you again."
"Or," said Holg, loudly enough for Eovath to hear, "he knows he botched his first great sacrifice to Rovagug by letting you survive, and he's worried he won't come into the full measure of his powers unless he makes it right."
Eovath didn't answer right away. Holg smiled as he often did when he believed he'd said something clever. Then the shifting rotated the expression into a nearly vertical grimace.
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