The City Under the Mountain (The Seven Signs Book 4)

by D. W. Hawkins

  The woman gave him a look of pure hatred and came for him once again. D’Jenn tried to grab her with his Kai, but before his grip could close around her body, she became living flame. The fire passed through his magical fingers like air, and when her feet hit the bridge again, her form reverted to pliable stone.

  D’Jenn tried to use magic on the stone of her body, but her form was suffused with the song of the Nar’doroc. It rebuffed his attempts to touch it, repelling his magic with tiny shocks of pain. If the woman felt his intrusions, her face didn’t register the fact.

  D’Jenn backpedaled, glancing around for an escape route. If the woman touched him, he would die in searing agony. He could feel the heat from her body as she walked closer.

  He summoned shards of ice and sent them hurtling in the entity’s direction. She slapped them away like brushing flies from the air, the ice turning to steam at her touch. She strode forward, unaffected.

  D’Jenn shattered a section of stone and sent the pieces hurtling toward her. The shards pierced her body and disappeared in puffs of flame and smoke. The woman smiled and continued forward.

  Think!

  How could he stop something that could change its form at will, nullifying his strongest attacks in an instant? Using fire would be useless, as would any physical material. She could melt through anything D’Jenn summoned and keep coming until she put her burning hands around his throat.

  D’Jenn glanced over the edge of the bridge. The whole cave was a sea of fire, destruction, and frenzied beasts. Visions of a thousand deaths flashed through D’Jenn’s mind.

  With one last glance at the stone woman, he jumped over the railing and into the storm.

  His stomach lurched as he fell through the hot, smoking air. The scene below was a chaotic mess of fire and dust. He clutched the Source tight to his chest, terrified it would slip from his hand. Power thrummed in its depths, and he pulled on the magic in a moment of panic.

  He used Dormael’s floating spell, but his momentum didn’t slow. The astonishment rocked his concentration, but D’Jenn split his mind—the cavern floor coming closer—and pulled more power from the stone. A torrent of hot wind roared through the cavern, carrying dust and debris, and slammed into D’Jenn’s body.

  He tumbled through the air, his stomach heaving with the sudden change in motion. He grasped both hands to the Source, tried to curl his body around it. His eyes rolled as he spun, jaw clenched against the pressure building in his skull.

  Focus!

  D’Jenn reasserted his control of the spells roaring in his consciousness. He banished the magical wind and brought the floating spell to the forefront of his mind. He spun in the air, disoriented, unable to tell which way his body was traveling.

  You’ve got to let go!

  With a feeling akin to letting go of a branch on a cliff, D’Jenn closed the floating spell and let himself fall. Still connected to the magic in the stone, he wrapped himself in a cushion of air and uttered a silent prayer to the gods. A terrible moment passed with nothing but muted screams and stomach-wrenching motion. D’Jenn fought a powerful urge to vomit.

  Something slammed into the shield around DJenn’s body, knocking the breath from his chest. He managed to hold onto the Source as the blow sent him into an even wilder tumble. Another hit and D’Jenn bit his tongue, filling his mouth with blood. The next impact hit him at just the right angle, causing the stone to slip from his hands. He panicked as the shield disappeared, the warm feeling in his body going with it. There was a crack, a dull flash of pain, and D’Jenn’s vision went white.

  Cool stone greeted the skin on his face. His senses came into focus one by one. He could smell char and burning flesh. The taste of blood and dirt filled his mouth.

  Move, you fool!

  D’Jenn blinked his eyes and tried to push himself to his feet. His body hurt from every joint and his ears were ringing. Moving made his head spin, which caused his stomach to heave. D’Jenn emptied his guts on the stone, holding a hand against the blinding pain in his skull. Once there was nothing left to purge, he spent a moment gathering his wits.

  Where’s the bloody Source?

  D’Jenn glanced around, searching out the stone’s telltale glow. He was on the flat roof of a low, square building. Another structure rose beside it, which now had scuffs on its wall. There were no Garthorin nearby, though D’Jenn could hear them in the streets below.

  It’s the gods’ own luck you landed up here.

  The Source was lying on the other end of the rooftop, humming in the ether. D’Jenn sighed in relief. The gods, it seemed, still wanted him in the fight.

  He rose, wincing at the pain in his legs, and retrieved the Source. As his hand touched its smooth surface, the pains in his body faded. His Kai hummed with the magic in the stone, which had still retained its power reserve.

  Flashes of light and angry howls rose in the distance. D’Jenn peered over the silhouettes of buildings. Chaos was brewing near the foot of the bridge from which he’d jumped. D’Jenn watched the flashes of orange firelight and smiled.

  “Vengeful spirit, meet bloodthirsty monsters. That should keep her busy for awhile.”

  D’Jenn sprinted deeper into the city, keeping to the rooftops. There were fewer Garthorin in the streets as D’Jenn went father from the main thoroughfare. He headed for a side cavern, away from the destruction.

  A small street was tucked between two rows of buildings. One of the structures had fallen over and shattered, filling the street with rubble. Scorch marks scarred other buildings—the effect of the crimson lightning D’Jenn had seen before. The sound of flowing water permeated the cavern, and D’Jenn could see it trickling out from the doorways of a few buildings. The water was slowly filling the street and flowing toward the rest of the city.

  One of the pipes must have been damaged in the backlash when I pulled the Source.

  D’Jenn leapt to the street and splashed into ankle-deep water. He made his way through the destruction toward the back of the cavern, where he could hear the rush of moving liquid. Summoning a magical light, D’Jenn revealed a pipe in the cavern wall. The water was rushing out in a torrent and spilling over a ditch carved in the floor.

  There was probably water trapped somewhere above, held in place by the city’s spell-work. Now that there’s nothing to hold it, it’s all coming down at once.

  D’Jenn turned and looked back down the street. The ditch ran to several buildings which looked too large to be tenements. A damaged waterwheel, dislodged from its last setting, rested against the far wall of a building. Huge globular structures, like dandelions in a field, stood at either end of the street. One of them had topped to the ground and cracked open. Water dripped from the hole.

  They’re reservoirs!

  A flash of light burst in the distance and the sound of dying Garthorin grew closer.

  D’Jenn went to work, using the Source to bolster his magic. He seized the rubble from the downed building and stacked the shattered stones into a makeshift dam. The water from the pipe met the rubble and backed up, creating a pool. D’Jenn surveyed his work and nodded. He stepped into the pool and moved toward its center, turning to face the street. There was nothing left to do but wait.

  Come on, old girl. I'm cornered—come and get me.

  After a few moments, the woman appeared at the end of the street. She saw D’Jenn, her eyes flashing, and started in his direction. The glow of heat from her body brightened as she moved, and flames blossomed from her shoulders. If she sensed any danger at the sight of D’Jenn’s preparations, it didn't show on her face.

  D’Jenn stepped backward, moving toward the pipe in the wall. Water sloshed around his knees, and he had to feel his way over the floor, lest he trip on something and fall to his back. He kept his eyes on the stone woman, who had started to run in his direction.

  “Come and get me, you ugly hag! Here I am!”

  The stone woman leapt his makeshift wall and landed in the center of the pool. Steam hiss
ed from her body as she touched the water, and the surface of the pool broke out in boiling protest. D’Jenn continued to move toward the wall, the Source tight in his grip. The woman rose from her crouch and shook her hands, reigniting the flames extinguished by the water. She moved with difficulty, as if bricks had been tied to her feet.

  It’s working! The water is slowing her down!

  If the woman could change her own form at will to either flame or stone, then it must be synergy between the two elements allowing her to move. She could become a living flame, but a flame could not survive underwater. The heat from her fire made the stone of her body as pliable as flesh, but the water would leech heat from the stone. She could burn the water she touched to steam, but she couldn’t turn her power on the water itself.

  D’Jenn struggled through the pool to the back wall of the cavern—to the pipe bringing water into the street. The woman’s face twisted into a mask of rage as she struggled to move her feet. She came forward as if she was fighting through waist-high snow, the water steaming and boiling around her. D’Jenn gave her a wolfish grin and placed his hand against the wall.

  “How about a drink before we continue?”

  With the smile still on his face, he lashed out with his Kai. The stone around the pipe shattered. Water rushed out in a great flood, knocking the stone woman from her feet. For a moment, all D’Jenn could hear was the rush of water and the loud hiss of steam. The woman fought to her feet, sluggish as the cool liquid siphoned heat from her body.

  D’Jenn seized on the opportunity and grasped some of the water in his magic. It rose from the pool and poured over the stone woman’s head, extinguishing the flames in her hair. D’Jenn kept the motion of the water going, pouring it over her body faster than she could burn it away. Her movements ceased, but D’Jenn kept the spell working.

  He divided his consciousness, reaching for one of the reservoirs at the end of the street. With a great heave of power—still negligible with the Source in hand—D’Jenn lifted the gigantic stone globe from its base and brought it closer. There was a small hole in the top of the globe, where water sloshed over the edge.

  He brought the globe to hover in the air above the stone woman. Only her eyes now glowed with an inner flame, though her body still attempted to move. The water in the pool was churned to madness by the motion of D’Jenn’s spell.

  With a twist of his wrist, D’Jenn spun the globe upside down in midair. The water poured out like a miniature waterfall, but D’Jenn didn't give it time to drain. He dropped the reservoir on top of the stone woman, maneuvering the globe so her body was shoved through the hole at the bottom. The reservoir landed with a great splash, which would have knocked D’Jenn from his feet if he hadn’t been leaning against the wall. With another gesture, D’Jenn spun the globe upright, bringing the opening back to the top. Splitting his consciousness yet again, D’Jenn sent his power into the water of the reservoir and pulled the heat from it in an instant.

  There was a great crackle as ice blossomed from the hole, reaching upward in random, grasping tendrils. D’Jenn abandoned the ice spell and seized the stone of the reservoir itself. He sank his mind into the rock and spread its body thin. The hole in the top of the reservoir closed as if the stone were growing together, creating an unbroken barrier around the ice. Just to be sure, D’Jenn took rocks from the pile of rubble and added them to the globe, thickening the walls of the stone lady’s prison.

  When it was over, the only sound was the noise of the water rushing from the shattered pipe. D’Jenn sloshed to the edge of the pool and climbed over the dam, breathing hard with relief. The globe of ice couldn’t hold the entity forever, but it might work long enough to save Bethany.

  If I can break through the Nar’doroc’s influence.

  With one last look over the globe, D’Jenn turned and ran for the city’s entrance.

  ***

  The little apartment was burning and Bethany couldn’t breathe.

  Fire crawled over the walls of the kitchen, wafted across the ceiling in liquid waves, and belched from the iron stove in the corner of the room. The bedding, the wicker basket, the curtain and the kitchen implements—it was all being eaten by the blaze. The air singed Bethany’s lungs and boiled her eyes.

  She hung suspended in the center of the apartment, wrapped in the embrace of uncountable silver threads. They held her like a spider’s web, tangling around her body and back through themselves until the entire room was full of taut metallic filaments. Struggling only caused her prison to tighten.

  The threads were warm against her skin. They held her in a tight embrace, arms hugged to her chest like she had been laid on a funeral pyre. The metallic webbing was wrapped around her hands, through her fingers, and even around her toes. Only her face was left bare, though Bethany could feel creeping tendrils moving through her hair. It wouldn’t be long before she was completely swallowed.

  Despite the searing heat, Bethany tried to gulp air into her lungs. When she moved, the giant web tightened the slightest amount. Each breath was more difficult, more painful, and shorter than the last.

  How long have I been here?

  “Bethany!” A voice cut through the noise of the flames. Bethany raised her eyes.

  The door was open, revealing a vast darkness beyond the burning doorframe. A man stood in the opening, his form suffused with a subtle glow. He was wearing light armor and charred clothing. His right hand shone with such intensity that his fist disappeared against the light. Bethany couldn’t tell, but it looked like he had something clutched in his fist.

  “Bethany,” he said. “Can you hear me?”

  “Yes.” Bethany tried to minimize the movement of her chest. The tendrils hugged her ribs. How could he be standing there with the walls burning around him? Didn’t he feel it?

  The man glanced around the room as if to take stock of the situation. “We don’t have much time, youngling. We need to get you free.”

  “Who—,” she coughed. “Who are you? Can you cut me loose?”

  The threads pulled tighter.

  “Look at me, Bethany. Don’t you recognize me?”

  She raised her eyes, wincing against the searing heat in the air. The man stared down at her, blue-eyed and bearded, his expression wild. He glanced over his shoulder as if he could hear a sound in the distance and turned back with a grim look on his face.

  “Time is wasting, little one. Think! You know who I am! Focus!”

  “Focus.” The word jogged something loose in her head. “An unfocused mind—”

  It all came flooding back to her in a rush—the flight through the flooded corridors, the confrontation with the shadow, and the appearance of the Silver Lady. Her eyes went to the burning room, then to the darkness beyond the door.

  “D’Jenn!” The words came out around a sob. “D’Jenn—I don’t know how long I’ve been here. She came and she brought me here, and then I thought she was going to help me, and then she left me here and—”

  “I know.” He raised a hand to stall her tears. “Take a deep breath, girl. Still your heart. She’s occupied right now, but I don’t think my trap will hold her for long. We need to move while we can.”

  Bethany took a deep breath and bit back her tears.

  “Can you cut me loose?”

  D’Jenn shook his head. “This is your place, Bethany. I have no power here.”

  Bethany’s eyes went to the glowing light in his hand. “What’s that, then?”

  “This is the only reason I could find you in the first place.” He gestured with the disembodied globe of light. “It can’t help us now. This is your dream, Bethany. Your mind has constructed this place.”

  “No.” Bethany shivered as the tendrils crept over her forehead. “She brought me here—the Lady.”

  “You don’t know where this is?” D’Jenn looked around the burning room. “I can hear the song of your magic here, Bethany. I can explain later, but she did not build this—you did.”

  “I di
dn’t do this!” Sudden anger rose in Bethany’s chest. “I didn’t…I—”

  “Bethany.” D’Jenn’s voice was sharp as a knife. “There’s no time for this!”

  Bethany swallowed her anger, taking a few deep breaths to steady her heart. “Alright. What do we do?”

  “This web.” D’Jenn plucked at one of the taught strands with a finger. It hummed like the string of an instrument at his touch. “We have to unravel it.”

  The tendrils hugged closer at his words, as if the web could hear him speaking.

  “It won’t,” she said. “It only gets tighter when I try to move.”

  “You can’t move your elbows?”

  Bethany went to shake her head, but the web held her tight. “No. Not even my fingers.”

  D’Jenn looked again to the web, as if he was trying to discern a pattern to the chaos. The threads filled every part of the burning room, preventing him from coming through the door. Another sound echoed from the darkness behind him, and he winced at the noise.

  “I can’t see any anchors.” D’Jenn peered at different parts of the web. “No threads I could pull to unravel this mess. I doubt it could be cut—not by me. It hurts to even touch it.”

  “What can we do?”

  D’Jenn looked in her eyes. “I can’t do anything, girl. I told you—only you have power in this place.”

  “But I can’t move!”

  “Can’t you?” D’Jenn gave her a challenging look. “Are you a wizard, Bethany, or a damned insect?”

  Her cheeks reddened, even through the blazing heat. “A wizard.”

  “And your most powerful tool?”

  The threads reached down over her eyes, causing Bethany to shut them on reflex.