The tower steps disappeared, and Natan found himself floating in a formless void. The specter-angel flew above him, and as he watched she was joined by other winged folk, circling in an endless vortex of wings and light.
Natan stood up and stretched his arms out. “Ilvani!” he cried. But he knew she was gone. He watched the angels cavort in the sky beneath a glowing sun. Natan felt the heat on his face, so warm he began to sweat.
The memory of his dream came back to him then in a rush, and Natan knew what had woken him. He looked up; the angels flew higher and higher, toward the golden sun.
“Stop!” he yelled, but his voice was very faint. It barely touched the vast sky. “Come back! Don’t fly there!”
He screamed until his throat was raw, but it was all in vain. One by one the winged specters caught fire. The flames outlined their wings, and for a hopeless breath they were mighty phoenixes. Then the fire consumed them and turned their beautiful appendages to ash.
Bodies fell shrieking out of the sky. As they passed they reached for Natan, and he tried to grab onto them to stop their fall, but his hands passed through their flesh, and all he felt was the fire. His hands blistered, and he cried out in agony as they all perished before his eyes.
Natan awoke in his bed, sweating. He could still feel the fire on his skin. He stumbled out of bed, went to the altar, and turned to the corner where Ilvani had appeared. But he saw nothing, sensed nothing but an empty chamber.
Trembling and awash in horror from what he’d witnessed, Natan couldn’t find the strength to pray. He went to his bed, took the blankets off, and piled them in the corner of the room. He lay down and felt the cold stone floor start to calm him and cool the sweat from his body. His heartbeat was frenzied in his chest.
“Tempus,” he begged, “Tempus.” Over and over he said his god’s name. “Let that not be our fate. Let it not be. Let it not be.”
He slept, a dreamless stupor, but he did not see Ilvani again, or the winged specters.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
"Down the valley in single file,” Vedoran told them as they prepared to leave. “Lean into the cliff wall if you lose your balance.”
“The wind is strong, especially near the top,” Chanoch said. “It almost plucked me off a couple of times.”
“I’ll take point, then Skagi and Cree, Ashok, and Chanoch watching our back,” Vedoran said.
“We should use our masks,” Ashok said. “The ones we made for the dust storm. If by some chance they do see us coming, they won’t know who or what we are.”
He looked to Vedoran for support. The shadar-kai considered then nodded. “Do it,” he said.
Ashok tied the dust-covered cloth across the bridge of his nose and pulled his cloak hood up so that only his black eyes were visible. Unless he spoke, no one in his enclave would know him, and none of them were expecting to see a dead son returned to his home. Still, considering what lay ahead of him, the protection seemed as flimsy as parchment, and as they proceeded down the valley, Ashok felt horribly vulnerable.
Tempus sees you, if no one else does, Ashok thought bitterly. At any moment he expected the warrior god to reach down and expose him for the traitor he was.
The wind was indeed vicious, and more than once they had to stop and crouch low to the rock to keep from being plucked off. But the farther they descended, the easier the way became, until they touched down on the valley floor.
Ashok’s heart pounded a dull, uneven rhythm against his ribs. The landmarks were so familiar. He knew exactly how far he was from his own chamber in the caves. Everything was the same; only Ashok had changed.
They weaved among rocks, keeping low and to the shadows as they crossed the stream and approached the cave entrance from the east. Ashok felt confident they wouldn’t be spotted. The guards were looking for threats on the valley ridge. They didn’t realize their domain had already been penetrated by enemies using their own stone staircase.
As they neared the mouth of the cave, Ashok carefully readied his chain. He kept the spikes taut so they made no sound. Vedoran drew his blade and motioned for Ashok to come join him at the front of the line. The others he motioned to stay a distance back.
Ashok came forward, and Vedoran whispered, “Stay at my back when we go in. Ten feet, no farther, until we see how many guards there are at the entrance.”
Ashok nodded and waited, while Vedoran darted past him and into the cave. He came in behind and heard the surprised cries of two guards, quickly stifled when Vedoran grabbed one of them from behind and covered his mouth.
Ashok grabbed the other and clamped a hand over his lips. He recognized both guards. Those men had the watch during the enclave’s sleeping time, and Ashok had often greeted them when he left on his journeys across the plain. They had been the last members of his enclave he’d seen before he left to hunt down the shadow hounds.
He dropped his chain and took out his dagger. Reversing the blade, Ashok struck the back of his guard’s skull with the hilt. The shadar-kai went limp, and Ashok let him fall to the ground.
As he sheathed his blade, Ashok heard a sudden crack. He fumbled and dropped the dagger, but Vedoran didn’t notice. He’d broken the neck of the other guard.
Vedoran went out and motioned for the others to join them inside the cave. He dragged his guard’s corpse over to Ashok’s unconscious one and dropped the body on top of him. Fortunately, he didn’t pause long enough to see that Ashok’s guard still breathed.
The passages ahead of them were lit by torches sparsely placed along the walls. They burned a low flame, casting just enough light to mimic the perpetual dusk of the Shadowfell. It was the gateway, the long walk in the dark.
Their greatest chance of failure lay in these twisting passages, Ashok thought. Initially, the tunnels were wide and tall enough for large groups to walk abreast, but the illusion of space soon faded. The deeper caves were designed to be like a maze, with so many dead-end passages and narrow halls that the uninitiated would quickly be lost and starve to death trying to find a way back to familiar territory.
Vedoran put them in line again, with himself and Ashok up front, Chanoch in the middle, and the brothers bringing up the rear. They proceeded down the long, wide passage, keeping close to the wall. Ashok could hear the echoing voices of his enclave drifting up from the deeper caves. Each time the voices came, Vedoran halted them to listen, but it was impossible to tell how close the voices were, and how many spoke. Ashok knew it must be driving Vedoran mad.
The fourth time they stopped to listen, Ashok put a hand on Vedoran’s shoulder. The shadar-kai turned and raised an eyebrow.
“They make no sound of alarm,” Ashok said. “For now, I believe we’re undetected.”
Vedoran nodded, but he was still unsettled. They marched on. The straight passage continued for a quarter mile into the rock before curving slightly to the west.
So it begins, Ashok thought, and watched the passage narrow drastically and split, offering tunnels in three different directions. Phantom voices babbled from all three.
“Which direction?” Chanoch whispered. “They all look the same.”
“Cree, we need a map of these tunnels,” Vedoran said quietly. Cree nodded and reached in his pouch for tools. To the rest of them, Vedoran said, “Take alive the next shadar-kai we encounter. We question them about our people, but if they make any move to sound an alarm, kill them.”
Skagi and Chanoch nodded eagerly. Ashok looked at the split in the passages. “This way,” he said, pointing to the left branch. “The voices seem to be louder coming from this tunnel.”
“How can you be sure?” Vedoran asked.
Ashok shrugged, trying to appear casual. “I can’t. But it comforts me to think we aren’t choosing at random.”
“True,” Vedoran said, and the others laughed quietly. “Are you ready, Cree?” he asked.
Cree’s deft hands sketched a chalk map on a piece of parchment. He folded it carefully and tucked it away. “Ready,�
�� he answered.
They took the left passage and had no choice but to walk single file down the narrow tunnel. The ground sloped downward at a gradual angle, and the air grew colder the deeper they descended into the earth.
Ashok judged they had another mile of tunnels to navigate before they got close to where they needed to be. The enclave had no formal dungeons-only graves had ever been needed to accommodate their enemies-so if the captives were alive, they would be in the food room, Ashok reasoned. It was a secure chamber with a dedicated guard, the place where live animals were caged for slaughter. Unfortunately for the rescue party, it was also snarled in the most heavily-trafficked areas of the enclave. It would be nearly impossible for them to get there undetected.
They reached another intersection, and Vedoran halted the group. Two passages forked left and right, joined by a hole halfway up the wall. The hole was large enough to accommodate a shadar-kai, but the tunnel was more a chute than a passage, with sheer walls on all sides.
“Any intuition about this one?” he asked Ashok.
Ashok stepped forward and pretended to examine the three tunnels. He stood beneath the hole in the wall and sniffed.
“This is a waste chute,” he said, “which means there’s at least one level of tunnels above this one, probably more.”
“In other words, we’re not dealing with a small band of shadar-kai hiding in a cave,” Vedoran said. “This is a functional enclave that’s been here for some time.”
“I’d say at least ten years,” Cree said. “The tunnels vary in size, and the clearing done in some of these passages was by living hands, not age.”
“Are you sure?” Vedoran asked.
Cree nodded. “They’ve made themselves a fortress here,” he said. “It’s not as intimidating to look at as Neimal and her wall guards, but it’s defensible. Depending on how much food they have stored here, they could live comfortably hidden for a year or more, if they had to.”
“But that’s good news,” Chanoch said. His face split in a relieved grin.
Vedoran shot him a look of incredulous disgust. “How do you see it as such?” he demanded.
“Tempus knew a large force couldn’t penetrate the caves,” Chanoch said. “Uwan sent us, and Ashok, who saw the way into the valley. Don’t you see? It’s all come together. We’ve done right. Praise to Tempus and Uwan,” he said, his voice echoing down the tunnels.
Vedoran’s expression darkened. He stepped up until he was in Chanoch’s face. “Tempus and Uwan be damned, and if you don’t be silent, pup, you’ll stay here with the corpses,” he said. “Alert anyone to our presence, and I’ll make you one of them.”
Chanoch’s jaw tightened. Ashok held his breath, waiting for the young one to utter the wrong words. If Chanoch lost control with Tempus’s name on his lips, Ashok thought Vedoran might strike the young one down.
Chanoch put a hand on the hilt of his greatsword. A tense breath passed, but then, with a visible effort, Chanoch released his weapon and stepped back, yielding to Vedoran’s authority.
“Choose a tunnel, Ashok. We’re moving on,” Vedoran said, but his gaze never left Chanoch. Skagi and Cree said nothing, but Ashok noticed their hands stayed close to their own weapons.
Ashok considered the passages. “Left,” he said, after pretending to deliberate for a breath or two.
“I can’t hear the voices anymore.” Vedoran said. “Why left this time?”
Ashok grappled for an excuse. “This tunnel appears to stay wide for a greater distance,” he improvised. “More room to fight, should it be necessary.”
Vedoran examined both ways in silence. “I see no difference,” he said. “We’ll have to split up, check them both.”
“Is that wise?” Ashok said sharply.
A mistake. Vedoran had already had his authority challenged once. “Am I leader of this expedition or is Ashok, chosen of Tempus?” he demanded.
Ashok bowed his head. “Respectfully, if we split up, we may become more easily lost,” he said.
“Not if you’re able to draw a decent map,” Vedoran said. He lowered his voice so that only Ashok heard him. “You know how to chart an enemy’s defenses, don’t you? You made lovely pictures of Ikemmu when you first arrived. Don’t you remember sitting alone in your little hut, where you thought no one could see?”
“You’ve been watching me closely,” Ashok said, struggling to keep his voice even. “I’m surprised. You, who hate to be controlled, keeping such a stranglehold on someone else’s freedom.” He raised his voice so the others could hear. “You’re right, Vedoran,” he said. “Speed and efficiency are the best way. We need to split up.”
Vedoran nodded. “I thought you’d see it that way. Skagi?”
“Yes, Vedoran?” Skagi said promptly.
“You’ll go with Ashok down the left tunnel. Let him map the way. The rest of you come with me to the right. Meet back here with what we find.”
Vedoran and the others moved off down the tunnel, and Ashok stood alone with Skagi. He clapped Ashok on the shoulder.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Vedoran’s wound himself into a frenzy to make this mission good.”
“I’ll be happy enough if he doesn’t get us all killed,” Ashok said.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Ashok and Skagi started down the tunnel, and after a distance encountered another intersection, then another beyond.
Skagi cursed. “Now what? We report back?” he said, sounding disappointed.
Ashok came to a silent decision. It was a risk, but if he didn’t act now, either dissension in the ranks or his enclave would kill them all.
“Follow me,” he said and took the tunnel to the right off the second intersection. He moved fast. Skagi had to trot to keep up with him.
“Where’re we going?” Skagi said.
Ashok raised a hand for him to be silent. He listened for signs of anyone coming from the intersection behind them, but he heard nothing.
“Keep moving,” he said, and continued on down a straight, narrow passage that would take them past the food preparation area. The animal pens were just beyond that.
“Godsdamnit, Ashok, you’re going to get us lost with your guessing,” Skagi whispered.
Ashok hesitated at the next intersection. Skagi was not a subtle warrior, by any means, but he wasn’t stupid either. Sooner or later he would start to suspect that Ashok knew exactly where they were going.
Then, the answer came. It was carried on the wind.
“Do you smell that?” Ashok said.
Skagi sniffed the air. “Blood,” he said.
“Someone’s been fighting here recently,” Ashok said. “Maybe the captives are striking back?”
Skagi grinned and drew his falchion. “Maybe they’d like some aid?” he said.
“We should expect guards,” Ashok said, and Skagi nodded eagerly.
They moved ahead, and the smell of blood and rotting meat grew more intense as they passed the food preparation rooms. Ashok stopped at an intersection and risked a quick glance around the corner.
The door to the slaughter chamber was barred, as it never had been when they kept animals in there. Ashok’s heart pounded. There was hope after all that the captives were still alive.
Two guards stood at the door. They carried a mace and an axe, and there were bloodstains on their armor. Ashok knew he wouldn’t get away with simply knocking those guards out. He’d made his choice, and he had to live with it.
“Quick and silent,” he whispered to Skagi.
Skagi nodded, and together they charged around the corner.
The guards saw them and were so shocked they froze with their weapons against their chests. Ashok whipped his chain around the neck of the one with the mace. He pulled it tight, choking off the guard’s breath and severing the throat vein in one motion. The shadar-kai gargled on his own blood and slid down the wall.
Skagi hit the other guard in the flank with his blade, but the weapon passed thr
ough empty air. The guard teleported a few feet away and reappeared at the mouth of the passage where Skagi and Ashok had entered. She ran down the tunnel, her insubstantial form wavering in and out of the torchlight.
“I’ll get her,” Skagi said. “You get the captives out.”
“Wait!” Ashok cried, but Skagi took off before Ashok could stop him.
Ashok went to the door and yanked up the bar sealing it shut. He listened for a breath and then opened it.
Inside the slaughter chamber, the stench was overpowering. Had his mask not blunted the smell, Ashok would have retched. Blood, waste, and an underlying air of decay filled the room.
From the doorway there was a short stair leading down into a roughly circular chamber. A second door on the opposite side of the room led to more guard areas as well as an underground river. Along the left-hand wall were dozens of thick-barred iron cages of various sizes, some stacked on top of each other. Within the smaller ones, coneys, foxes, and spindle-legged deer crouched, watching Ashok with large eyes. Ravens and crows let out deep-throated caws from the higher cages, and feathers fell in a black rain.
To Ashok’s right, two iron bars were suspended lengthwise by chains from the ceiling. From those dangled blood-stained leather straps cinched tight enough to hold an animal’s front and hindquarters. Beneath the bars someone had placed a long trough to catch the blood and organs as they were removed.
Two of the leather straps were not in use. They dangled free and were half-shredded as if from the claws of a struggling animal. The others were cinched tight around the wrists of a naked shadar-kai man.
There were no guards in the room. Ashok secured the door behind him and went cautiously down the stairs. He approached the captive but could already see the man was dead, and thanked the gods for that small mercy.
Ashok raised his hand to press the mask more fully against his face. The man’s body dangled limply from the straps, his bare feet brushing the inside of the trough. His toes had been removed and lay in a pile of blood and urine at the bottom. His genitals had been cut off as well.
Unbroken Chain (single books) Page 17