Magic Below Paris Complete Series Boxed Set (Books 1 - 8): Trading Into Shadow, Trading Into Darkness, Trading Close to Light, Trading By Firelight, Trading by Shroomlight, plus 3 more

by C. M. Simpson

  8

  The Caravan’s Fate

  They were gone in the dawn’s gray light, the waystation casting long dark shadows down the hill and onto the ruins below. To their relief and surprise, the trail remained clear to the tunnel mouth leading to Dimanche. Marsh had said goodbye to Gabe and Ursula on the understanding that she would return sometime within the next twelve cycles.

  She didn’t know how she was going to keep that promise, but Ursula seemed certain she could, and Marsh decided not to question it. Who knew what the future might hold? All she could do was try to keep her promise and hope the Deeps didn’t have any other plans for her.

  Gustav had her scanning the mountainside before they’d left the waystation gates despite Geralt’s assurances that there was no sentient life as far as he could scan, which was almost to the Dimanche complex entrance. Marsh was relieved to find the boy was right, although not reassured to not find the caravan camped somewhere ahead of them.

  Gustav called a halt as they reached the tunnel mouth. He looked up at the sky, wincing as the late afternoon sun slashed across his eyes, dazzling him. He blinked, looking around at the rest of them.

  “What do you say?” he asked. “Do you want to see one more sunset or bid the sky goodbye?”

  It was a hard decision. Marsh had found she missed the colors of the evening, whether they were painted on the walls in the Kerrenin’s Ledge cavern or across the sky to the west of Downslopes. In the end, though, they reluctantly pressed on, giving priority to finding the caravan over the pleasure of the evening light.

  The entrance to the complex of underground structures leading to Dimanche opened under the sheer cliffs of something that looked like the ruined shell of an ancient structure. Square pillars buttressed the opening, long overgrown by vines and bushes. They continued in semi-orderly rows through a broad, once-square cavern and into more natural tunnels eaten into the stone by a combination of water, landslides, and tunneling.

  Staring around her, Marsh couldn’t help but shudder at the thought of what it must have been like for people to feel desperate enough to dig their way into the mountain. What had made them do that rather than fight for survival on the surface? The entrance hinted at strength, a building that had surely been a fortress in its own right. Why had they felt the need to flee underground?

  She pushed the thought away, forcing herself to pay attention to their surroundings. She scanned the ground ahead, noting the white mesh of rootlike strands coating the walls and wondering what it was. All she could tell was that it was full of life but not sentient. Knowing it posed no danger, she ignored it and focused on scanning the shadows and strange fungi growing horizontally along the walls.

  Beyond the usual skitter of insects and small animals, there was nothing. No shadow monsters lurked along the walls. No raiders waited in the shelter of the towering pillars or the shrooms clumped around them. Nothing bigger than the small furry creatures the wolves had termed “rabbits” interrupted their journey until they reached the first cavern.

  “Marsh?” Gustav asked as the first whiff of death reached them.

  “Nothing,” she said, gagging at the foul taste of destruction coating her tongue and pulling her shirt collar up over her nose.

  All around her, the others did the same. Together, they kicked their mules into a trot, moving toward the terrible stench. It didn’t take them long to reach the source and Marsh coughed, fighting down the urge to throw up. They’d found the caravan Gabe had said was overdue.

  Most of it, anyway.

  Its mules were lying where they’d fallen, their bodies torn apart, their eyes staring sightlessly into the dark. The caravan’s goods were scattered around them, boxes and packages broken apart from their fall—or from the scavengers that had come during the night.

  Even as she thought of them, Marsh held her shirt across her mouth and closed her eyes, seeking the life she knew had to be sharing the tunnel with them. It didn’t take her long to draw on the shadows and have them reveal the creatures hiding in their depths. She soon found what she was looking for and took a deep breath to report it, but Roeglin was ahead of her, plucking the information from her head and passing it to the rest of the team.

  Their mounts didn’t need much urging to move quickly between the corpses of the dead pack train or to jolt into a swift canter to put some distance between them and the attack site. Throughout their flight, Marsh tried to keep her eyes open and guide her beast down the corridor while maintaining her hold on both shadow and life scan.

  It was difficult, and she knew she was pushing herself past what was wise, but she’d found the hidden scavengers and she needed to make sure they put enough distance between them to ensure they weren’t mistaken for prey. As the night-cycle predators began to stir, the pack train’s carcasses would draw more than just scavengers—and they needed to be far away before that happened.

  “We’ll need to keep riding,” Gustav said as they passed through the cavern where the caravan had made its last camp, and Marsh felt Mordan’s approval.

  Perhaps the human captain deserved to lead the pride…

  It was not a thought Marsh wanted to share, and she turned her mind to other things.

  From the distance the caravan had traveled, the raiders had hit it shortly after it had broken camp and settled into the day’s journey. From the carnage on the trail behind them and the complete lack of glows, the raiders had let the shadow monsters loose to take out the mules. It occurred to her that she still didn’t know how the raiders prevented the monsters from killing the traders as well.

  Not what we need to know right now. Roeglin’s voice interrupted her thoughts, and Marsh forced her mind back to the present.

  Having lost the threads once, she found it hard to gather them again…and she picked up the dark purple presence of a shadow wraith.

  A la putain! Roeglin cursed, but out in the open, his urgent shout bouncing down the tunnel ahead of them. “Wraith! Ride!”

  And he reached over and grabbed Marsh’s reins.

  “Focus!”

  Marsh didn’t need him to tell her what to focus on. She reached into the shadows, holding tight to the threads that could bring her the information she needed about the predator hovering at the edge of a side tunnel. Mordan’s correction sounded as clear as a bell over the link between them.

  Not a side tunnel. Lair. Marsh was glad the kat stayed close to the side of her mule, because, as fierce as the kat was, she didn’t think even Mordan had a hope of taking the wraith down on her own.

  Need more pride or the storm. Mordan sent Marsh an image of the roiling darkness she called when she drew lightning from the shadows.

  No! Roeglin’s mental shout of alarm was echoed in his voice, and he jerked on the mule’s reins to get her attention. “Not unless we can’t shake it.”

  And by “shake it,” he meant if the monster didn’t follow them.

  We don’t want to close the tunnel. We’re opening trade, remember?

  Marsh remembered, but that meant Master Envermet’s force would have to deal with it, and Aisha and Tamlin were with him.

  They’ve dealt with things like that before?

  It was a good thing he had hold of the mule’s reins, or Marsh might have pulled the beast to a halt right then and there.

  A shadow wraith? Her children had dealt with a shadow wraith? And no one had told her?

  I’ll show you the memory when we camp, Roeglin told her. Aisha…

  “Later,” Marsh said. She could well imagine what Aisha had done. Daniel hadn’t been far off when he’d called the child a “little hoshkat.”

  The wraith, Roeglin reminded her, and Marsh realized she had lost her grip on the shadow threads and her scan of the cavern around her.

  Merde.

  It was a struggle, but she was able to regain her grip on the shadows and seek the wraith in their depths. She wasn’t able to extend her scan to finding its life force, but that was okay because she didn’t ne
ed to. It looked like the wraith had been content to haunt the edge of its junction and watch them pass. All she could hope for now was that their headlong flight hadn’t marked them as easy prey and that the monster preferred the easier meals that would be gathering around the carcasses behind them.

  You can hope, Roeglin snarked, but we’ll ride until dawn unless we find shelter sooner.

  Well, at least they could agree on that. There was only one problem with Roeglin’s plan, though.

  “Merde,” the shadow mage swore, lunging out to grab her as she began to slide. Henri was already coming alongside.

  “I’ve got her.”

  At a gallop? Marsh wondered. The man must be a better rider than they’d realized.

  Yeah, and you can ask him about that when we stop.

  Marsh took hold of the pommel and did her best to balance as Henri settled her in front of him. It helped that he kept one arm tucked around her waist as he rode.

  “You owe me dinner, shadow mage,” he muttered, and Marsh didn’t argue.

  The man had stopped her from falling on her ass where a shadow wraith could find her. Dinner was a pretty good trade. Of course, that wasn’t all Henri had to say about it.

  “And you’re a pain in the ass.”

  Marsh wanted to argue that, but when she thought about it from his perspective, he had a point. Not that he didn’t owe her for warning them of the shadow wraith’s presence… In the end, it was easier to focus on staying on the mule and not say anything. She didn’t expect to be half asleep by the time Gustav called a halt, but she was.

  “Do you think we’ve gone far enough?”

  “Marsh?” Roeglin’s voice was tentative, but Marsh nodded and held up two fingers.

  Taking a breath, she put aside her desire to get off the mule and out of Henri’s lap and closed her eyes. The shadows shook beneath her touch, and she asked them to show her what lay in the cavern around them. It was no surprise to find life, but a relief that there was no trace of a shadow wraith or anything else that would be a threat. Marsh breathed a sigh of relief and felt Henri lift her sideways.

  It took her a heartbeat to realize what he intended, and even then she wasn’t ready. Her feet hit the cavern floor and her knees folded.

  “You misbegotten son of the Deep!” she managed, adding, “No dinner for you.”

  “No deal. I coulda left you for the wraith.”

  “I’da picked her up,” Izmay told him, riding alongside to give him a swift slap upside the head. “You’re not the only one knows how to ride. You were only the closest.”

  Henri turned and stared at the shadow guard and she arched an eyebrow, daring him to dispute it. Marsh left them to it, glad when none of them moved to help her regain her feet. It didn’t take her long to use the little power she had to draw on the natural energy running through the floor of the cavern. Stone it might be, but it was still in its natural form and connected to the natural world, unlike the cut cobbles she’d encountered at Kerrenin’s Ledge and Downslopes.

  The energy moved slowly but it was there, and she pulled enough of it to her to soothe away some of the fatigue. She decided it would take more energy than she had to get rid of the aches and pains resulting from her ride, besides which, Gustav was waiting.

  “No wraith,” she told him. “No joffra, shroom walkers, or centipedes.”

  He glanced around the cavern and looked at Roeglin.

  “What minds do you sense?”

  It was a good question, and one Marsh was glad the captain had added to his repertoire. Roeglin’s eyes turned white, and she waited with the rest until they returned to their normal shade of hazel.

  “Just beasts. No remnant or shadow monsters, and nothing human.”

  Some of the tension went out of Gustav’s body, and he looked around.

  “We’ll camp here,” he said. “The mules need a rest.”

  The mules aren’t the only ones, Marsh thought and looked around for hers. She was glad when Roeglin dismounted and handed her the reins for her mount.

  “Thank you,” she managed, and he gave her a roguish grin, indicating Henri with one hand.

  “That’s okay. You can cook me dinner when you cook for him.”

  Marsh rolled her eyes, and Izmay sputtered.

  “Men. Always with the food.”

  “Not always,” Henri protested and blushed crimson when they turned to stare at him.

  Gustav broke the tension by handing him a shovel.

  “You can dig ‘em, seeing as your mind’s already there.”

  Henri groaned but took the shovel, handing Izmay his reins. To Marsh’s surprise, the shadow guard handed her the reins of both their mules and pulled a second shovel from her packsaddle, moving to help Henri.

  “Thought you’d need a hand,” she said, and Zeb snickered.

  Izmay blushed and turned her back on him. Gustav tapped him on the knee.

  “Kindling,” he ordered. “Looks to be plenty of shrooms around here.”

  He looked at Gerry, but the guard was ahead of him.

  “I got it,” he said before Gustav could say anything. “Jakob and I are clearing the campsite, while Roeglin and Marsh keep watch on the cavern.”

  None of them asked what Gustav was doing, but he hadn’t handed out all the duties there were, and set about caring for the mules. It took them a turn of the hourglass before the camp was finished, and Marsh was wishing they’d added one of the rock mages to their number by the time they were done. Even though Jakob and Gerry had cleared a good space and bordered it with a low pile of rocks, she still didn’t feel safe.

  Zeb had lit the fire and placed a small blaze at each of the four corners of the campsite, surprising Marsh when he lit each one by conjuring a small globe of fire and settling it inside the hollow of dry fuel he’d created.

  Izmay and Henri returned, each bringing an armful of fuel for the fires. Izmay watched Zeb light the last one and gave an appreciative whistle.

  “Nice work, Zeb,” she told him, and he smiled.

  Marsh scanned the dark, again, this time drawing a little extra energy from the shrooms around them so she could sense the life forces in the cavern. It was almost enough, but the world still wavered, and she knew she’d have to stop soon.

  “Soon?” Roeglin asked, deliberately letting his voice be heard. “You need to stop now, Leclerc, or you’ll be no use to us tomorrow.”

  At his words, Gustav looked up from where he was setting up his bed.

  “Enough, Leclerc. You, too, Leger. I’ll need you both on your feet when we move out.”

  Marsh noticed he didn’t say “in the morning” and hoped that meant he was letting them all sleep a little longer.

  That’s because it already is morning, Roeglin told her, handing her a ration bar.

  “We might have a fire, but none of us are in any shape to cook…unless you want to settle your debts early?”

  Marsh took the ration bar and registered Mordan lying alongside her. She looked for her mule, thinking she should find the kat something to eat, and realized the kat was already tearing at a hunk of something.

  “Kat’s fine. Go get some sleep.”

  And wasn’t Gustav just super-alert right now? At least he’d taken care of all the animals.

  “He’s thinking if you don’t go to sleep on your own, he’s going to find a rock and rock you to sleep,” Roeglin murmured, pitching his voice low to keep the comment between them.

  “You tucking me in?” was out before she had the sense to censor it, and she felt her face go red.

  The other guards laughed. They laughed harder when Roeglin replied.

  “I’m sleeping right beside you,” he told her, his words carrying the suggestion of more mischief than either of them was capable of.

  9

  The Grotto

  Suggestions and predators aside, Marsh slept well that night, glad when the shadow captain said they’d be camping for a second night. The reason for that became clear when
he had Roeglin make contact with Gabe to let the station master know what had happened to the caravan. He also asked to speak with Master Envermet, and Roeglin dragged Marsh into the conversation as they discussed how the captain was going to tackle the tunnel section. Master Envermet reported encountering another group of remnant.

  “They remind me of shadow monsters,” he said, “but they’re not. The stationmaster is of the opinion that this group is new to the area, and not related to the raiders. He says they come and go.”

  “He’s been there long enough to know,” Marsh assured him. “How are they?”

  “Your cousin and his family are doing well, and the boys are proving apt teachers as well as students. This fire magic has potential.”

  Well, that was one way to put it.

  When the two Protector captains had decided on how they were going to tackle the lack of glows and the scavengers and predators on the trail, Roeglin released Marsh and settled into a conversation with Geralt. From what she could tell, the conversation turned rapidly into a training session, which left the mind mage slightly worn. Gustav wasn’t happy.

  “No more training until we reach Dimanche,” he instructed. “It’s a good thing we’re not moving out until morning.”

  By “morning,” he meant an hour before the day cycle began.

  “We’ve got ground to make up,” he said when Henri noted the hour, “and I want to spend tonight at the waystation that’s supposed to be ahead of us.”

  He didn’t add “if it’s still there,” but Marsh was sure she caught it at the edge of his thoughts.

  You sure you don’t want to see what kind of mind magic you can tap? Roeglin suggested when he noticed that impression, but Marsh shook her head.

  “Ask me after we get to Dimanche.”

  He might have asked more, but the trail ahead of them was lit. The sight of the living glows lining each side of the trail was enough to make Gustav signal a halt. He turned in the saddle and fixed his gaze on Marsh.