Secrets of the Stonechaser (The Law of Eight Book 1)

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Secrets of the Stonechaser (The Law of Eight Book 1) Page 29

by Nicholas Andrews


  She could feel the emotions between them, and the truth finally came for Qabala. This girl not only loved Nerris, he loved her as well. Her heart dropped, and Qabala sank to her knees. She had vowed long ago to never cry again, but tears formed in her eyes nonetheless. She wept into her hands as Nerris and the girl held each other close.

  “Why?” she said between sobs. “Oh, Nerris, after all we’ve shared—”

  She willed herself to stop. She was not the helpless girl who wept every night her foster father rolled on top of her in Verchak. She was Qabala the Unbreakable, the one chosen to create a new world, and she did not deserve to be treated this way.

  “Enough,” she yelled, getting to her feet. “Let me out of this demon’s vision! Let me—”

  There was a flash of light, and Qabala was back in the great hall. The shock of the transition caused her to stumble, and the ambassador moved forward to help her. Qabala waved him off.

  “I see your truths,” she said to him, “though I cannot thank you for them. Please leave me.”

  The ambassador nodded and barked out some orders in Miagamese. His subordinates pushed the scrying crystal away, with the Denzai filing out behind them. When they had all left, Qabala sank to her knees once more and her Dume-Generals started forward.

  “What did you see?” Qabala asked.

  “Nothing,” Quin answered. “You stood there sort of rigid, my Eternal. Then you began shaking. That’s when you came out of whatever you were under.”

  “Good.” No one had seen her weep. Qabala stared at the cracks in the floor. She would not show weakness. She would hear the truth from Nerris’s own lips. If he proved himself unfaithful, a lesson would be required. “Where is Nerris?” she asked.

  Her Dume-Generals cast glances at each other, but none of them were able to answer. “We are not sure, my Eternal,” Valez finally said.

  “Valez, Falares, Lukas, with me,” Qabala said. “Round up a dozen men.”

  “My Eternal—” Yorne said.

  “Stay out of this, Dume Yorne,” Qabala said. “I know he is your friend, but you cannot protect him now. You and Quin are dismissed.”

  Yorne bit back further response with a grunt, bowed, and exited. Quin did the same and followed him. Those two were too close to Nerris, but she knew Falares and Valez harbored no love for him. If Nerris was going to spit on her hospitality, spit on her love for him, she would treat him in kind.

  After Valez summoned some guards, Falares dispatched them to find Nerris and summon him to her chambers. It was not long before it was done, and Qabala marched back to her quarters, picking up guards as she went along. She knew how dangerous Nerris could be when provoked, and didn’t want a spectacle like the last time.

  She threw the door open to her bedroom and entered with Falares and Valez in tow. Nerris sat up from her favorite chair. “Qabala,” he said. Then he laid eyes on Valez. “What is he doing here?”

  “You’ve lost the privilege of questions,” Qabala said. “Tell me the truth, Nerris. You went to see that girl despite my instructions for you not to set foot in the dungeons.”

  Nerris’s face hardened. “What of it? Len-Ahl is my friend. That will never change.”

  Qabala’s heart sank all over again. The Denzai had seen it true. Nerris did not even have the good sense to lie about it. “I loved you,” she said, her voice faltering. “You loved me once as well. Tell me, Nerris. Tell me what she has that I am lacking. What have I not given you?”

  “Qabala, I do love you.”

  “Liar!” Qabala’s sadness turned to anger. She had seen how he held that girl in his arms in her vision, and the look in his eye when he spoke of her. Did he think she was stupid? “At every turn you resist, Nerris. What if I sent away everyone? Falares, Valez, the Cult, the Tattered Man. If it were you and me and no one else, what would you give up to be with me? That girl? The Thrillseekers? What will it take?”

  Nerris’s shoulders slumped. “We can’t be together, Qabala. Not even if we were alone. I’ve tried to deny it myself a thousand times, but when I go to sleep, I think of Len-Ahl. And when I wake up, she is my first thought. That doesn’t mean you have meant nothing to me, but it does mean we cannot continue this way.”

  Qabala fixed him with a cold stare. “You’re right. I was such a fool. The Tattered Man was right. The only thing that matters is finding the Elemental Stone. And you and that girl are going to help me find it. And I will have your love even if I have to use the godstones to make it be so. I will not accept any other outcome.”

  Nerris shook his head. “Qabala—”

  “Until then, you can enjoy the same accommodations as your friends.” She nodded to Falares and Valez. “Take him.”

  Falares barked some orders and the room filled with guards. Nerris tensed, but he had no weapon and could not fight them. Several pairs of gloved hands grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him from the chamber. As he passed her, his face held a mixture of confusion, anger, and longing. Qabala forced herself to turn away, attempting to hide the tears which ran down her cheeks.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  NERRIS WALKED DOWN the corridors of the Aeternica’s dungeons with two guards at his back, and two more in front. A turnkey led their procession, keys jingling at his side. Nerris slowed a bit, causing one of the men at his back to jab him with his blade. He smiled: these men were smart. They knew his reputation, and kept their sabers drawn and ready.

  After leading him toward the upper levels, the turnkey unlocked a door which led into another corridor. This one was better kept than the cell he had previously occupied. Qabala had not taken any chances when she sent him to the dungeons; she put him deep in the lower levels in a cell which lacked windows, reeked of mildew, and had a mud floor. As he suspected might happen, he was moved a short time later.

  The guards had not allowed him questions, but merely shackled his wrists and told him to march, scaring away a rat which had taken up residence. This area of the dungeon was closer to the surface, and at least some of the light came from the outside world. His escort stopped him in front of a thick wooden door and unshackled him. Nerris suspected these men were acting on Rade’s orders, and if he was correct, he had a good wager as to who was behind the door.

  The guards shoved him inside and locked the cell. Nerris stumbled forward, but a pair of thick arms caught him before he could fall.

  “Nerris?” came Dist’s surprised voice. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m the new attendant,” Nerris said. “So how are you enjoying your stay in the city of Palehorse?”

  Dist chuckled. “You son of a bitch. I don’t know whether to hit you or kiss you.”

  Nerris stood upright and disentangled himself from his friend. “I’d rather you hit me, if those are my options.” He looked around. Their cell was quite spacious, as cells went. The floors were dirt, but the walls were built of the same red stone which lined the walls of the Aeternica. About eight feet from the floor, light shined through a small, barred window. From the angle of the light, he judged it to be early morning. “Where are we?”

  “I heard a guard say the courtyard out there used to be an arena for gladiatorial combat,” Dist said. “Apparently these cells used to be where the fighters lived.”

  Nerris hummed. That explained the windows. Dungeons weren’t known for their fresh air. Constant darkness and loss of a sense of time were more preferable to breaking a man than scenic views of the outside world. But when Palehorse had been known as Ariska, capital of the Aristian Empire, gladiators were considered great warriors. They would have been given much better treatment than the average prisoner.

  “What have you been doing all this time?” Dist asked.

  “Negotiating your release.”

  Dist glanced around them at the four stone walls and the locked door. “Nice work,” he said with a straight face.

  “How’s your leg?” Nerris asked.

  Though the cell was still somewhat dark, his friend
’s blue eyes still twinkled. He gestured to the bandage around his right leg. “Better. This girl, Meeka, was sent by Qabala to heal it. I was wary at first, but she was fantastic. The wound had become infected, and had it been allowed to continue, I would have lost my leg. She saved me.”

  Nerris smiled. “Meeka is a treasure.”

  “Pretty too,” Dist said. “She was resistant to my charms at first, but after a few visits I had her telling me what was going on out there.” He wrinkled his face in disgust. “I heard Qabala named Valez Vaed a Dume-General.”

  “She was correct.”

  “Any chance of getting up there and sticking a knife in that traitorous bastard?”

  “Let’s worry about getting out of here,” Nerris said. “I don’t suppose you know where Jhareth is.”

  “I’m here,” called Jhareth’s voice.

  Nerris looked around, but didn’t see anyone. Their cell wasn’t so large that Jhareth could have been lurking in the shadows the whole time. He glanced at Dist, who gestured toward the window. He walked under it and crouched all fours, and Nerris finally understood. He stepped onto his friend’s back, and grabbed the bars to hold himself upright.

  “Jhareth?” he called.

  “To your left,” came Jhareth’s voice, now clear as glass. “I’m in the cell next to you.”

  “What are you standing on?”

  “Surnal.”

  “What’s a surnal?”

  “Not a what, a who,” Jhareth said. “My cellmate is named Surnal. He’s a woodwitch. He knows magic, like Len-Ahl.”

  “Hello,” called a fainter voice. “It is nice to meet you at last, Nerris. I am Nateus Surnal, of the Earth Clerics.”

  “He knows about all of this,” Jhareth said. “The Stonechaser, the Catalyst, what we have to do. He’s one of the last Earth Clerics, he says, and his order is well-versed in the prophecies of Queen Angelica.”

  “Does Qabala know that?” Nerris asked.

  “No,” said Surnal. “I have denied knowing anything which could aid her, despite my repeated thrashings. Until recently, I was with Prince Lahnel and his army. When the last temple of my order was sacked by the Cult of Eversor, I hastened to do what I could to aid the survivors, but the Cult had my people slaughtered. I knew the time had come for the Stonechaser to emerge, and I surrendered myself to Qabala’s men.”

  “You allowed yourself to be imprisoned and tortured?” Nerris asked.

  “It is the will of Angelica that I accompany the Stonechaser on her journey,” Surnal said. “When I realized it was not to be Qabala, I knew I had to bide my time and she would cross my path eventually. From what Dist and Jhareth have told me about this Len-Ahl, it seems I was correct.”

  “He says Prince Lahnel has a force of men hidden in the forest to the south,” Jhareth said. “If we can escape from the city, they’ll give us cover while we make our way to Lesta. He says the prince will give us refuge there.”

  Nerris bit back his next question and considered. If they went to Lesta, would Prince Lahnel give refuge to the man who killed his father? He had his doubts.

  “So what happened?” Jhareth asked. “What caused Qabala to throw you in here with us?”

  “She was smarter than that,” Nerris said, “but I have friends in her court. Dume Yorne, for one. I’m fairly sure he was the one who put me in here with you.”

  “Why?”

  “He knows everything we and Surnal know,” Nerris said. “We were making plans to get you and Len-Ahl out of Palehorse already.”

  “And Qabala?”

  “She learned of a visit I made to Len-Ahl’s cell and flew into a jealous rage. Qabala thinks I’m in love with her, and she wouldn’t have that.”

  “Really?” Jhareth asked suggestively.

  Nerris sighed. “All right, so I am in love with Len-Ahl. I admit that now. I’ll do everything in my power to get her away from this vile place.”

  “This is the best thing that could have happened,” Jhareth said. “If you visited her cell, you know where she is. Now that we’re all here, we can come up with a plan.”

  “You’re forgetting one thing,” Dist called. “Qabala has the first beacon, remember? That medallion we took from the statue of Jinn.”

  “She has my sword too,” Nerris said. “I’m not leaving without either one of them.”

  “Once we get them back, any ideas for an escape?” Jhareth asked. “I’m not that familiar with this city.”

  “When we killed King Lahnen, we used a secret tunnel and an old smuggling trail behind the stables,” Nerris said, “but Dume Lukas was the one who suggested that, and Qabala knows about it. The southwestern wall is lightly guarded, and is lower to the ground than at other spots in the Aeternica.”

  “That has some possibilities,” Jhareth said.

  “It’s a straight drop into the Blue River,” Nerris said, “and not much in the way of handholds. I’d only risk it as a last alternative, since the currents can be quite fast. No, there’s a block of cells close to here where there’s another secret tunnel. I escaped through it last time things went sour here, and it leads to the sewers. I don’t think Qabala knows about it. Still, the sewers aren’t going to take us beyond the city walls unless we go through the river lines and risk drowning. We’ll still have to figure something else out if we take that route.” He thought for a moment. “Any ideas on how to get out of these cells themselves?”

  “I can blow open these doors the same way I did that cave entrance,” Dist said from under him. “Do you smell that?”

  Nerris sniffed. Indeed, a putrid odor permeated the cell, similar to the one within the dark cave where they had discovered Jinn’s medallion. “Is that sulfur?”

  “The floor is rife with sulfur dust,” Dist said. “If I can convince that girl Meeka to bring me the proper materials, I can funnel ignition powder into the cell lock.” He looked at the small, barred window built into the door. “Then it’s a matter of making a fuse long enough to get into the keyhole.”

  “Wait for a turnkey,” Jhareth said, adding on to his friend’s idea. “Blow the door onto him and take his keys so we can get out of the block.”

  “That’s probably not feasible from in here. The blast should propel the door inward. We’ll have to wait for him to come and investigate the noise before we ambush him.”

  “And let the other prisoners out before we leave,” Nerris said. “A riot would keep Qabala nice and busy for a while. There are certainly enough of them.”

  “By Angelica’s gentle touch,” Surnal said, “I am beginning to see why they call you the Thrillseekers.”

  Jhareth laughed. “Stick with us a while, Nateus. We’re just getting started.”

  Nerris had a horrible thought. “Dist, about your sulfur idea—”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure the explosion’s contained this time.”

  That did not alleviate Nerris’s trepidation all that much, since he knew Dist’s definition of contained was a vague concept, at best. “Why is there sulfur dust in here anyway?”

  “It’s one of the signs of an active volcano,” Dist said.

  “Are you saying there’s a volcano under Palehorse?”

  “If not, there will be one soon,” Dist said. “I used to scavenge for the stuff, you know. I know my geology.”

  “We should probably warn someone,” Nerris said.

  “Who cares about that right now?” Jhareth asked. “I’m mainly interested in getting us out of here. Let’s go over the basic skeleton of our plan: first, Dist blows open our doors. We steal keys and weapons and let the other prisoners loose. Then Nerris leads us through the depths and we retrieve Len-Ahl. Somehow we get the katana and the medallion, and we use one of our escape routes to make our way toward the forest to the south. Prince Lahnel’s men throw off our pursuers and we flee southeast to Lesta.”

  “Easy, right?” Dist said.

  “You wanted an adventurous life,” Jhareth said. “If you wanted easy, you should ha
ve taken up mining or woodcutting. Do you have any ideas how we’re going to get the medallion away from Qabala, Nerris?”

  “I’m still a bit thorny on that count,” he said. “We’ll have to work out the finer details later.”

  Nerris had not been able to sleep much in his former cell, and despite the sulfurous odor, this one was much more comfortable, and the light shining in from outside put his mind at ease. He hopped off Dist’s back and napped for a while. He awoke to the sound of their door being unbolted, and the creak of the hinges as it opened. Still groggy, he rubbed at his eyes as the lithe form of a woman entered. The door shut behind her.

  “Meeka?” Nerris asked.

  Meeka looked at him, and turned her eyes away. “I’m not supposed to speak to you, Nerris. This is not where my Eternal put you.”

  Dist flashed her his handsomest smile. “He’s with the other important people now, where he belongs. Though I’m a little put out that someone of my celebrity no longer has their own private quarters.”

  Meeka actually smiled. Nerris was amazed; he had never seen her do that before.

  “From what I hear, the dungeons are overflowing with prisoners of war,” she said. “There hasn’t been much choice but to double up on occupancy. Now show me that leg, and we’ll see if you’re recovered.”

  Dist hiked up the right leg of his trousers, and Meeka inspected his wound. Nerris noted the griffons’ bite marks had scabbed over and some of the lesser lacerations were fading. His leg was also returning to its normal color.

  “The discoloration has faded and it seems to be scarring up nicely,” Meeka said, echoing his thoughts. “The infection is gone, though you probably won’t be running at full speed for a while.”

  Dist shared a glance with Nerris. That was a problem they had not considered. They would all need to be at full strength if they planned to make a grand escape work.

  “Thank you so much for all you’ve done,” his friend said to Meeka. “You saved my life.”

  Meeka blushed and smiled again, showing off dimples on her cheeks. “I only did as my Eternal bid me.”

 

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