The dragon circled and played in the thunderheads, moving farther away. Looking for another way down, Kyric found a crevasse on the far side of the summit and they decided to give it a try. The crevasse descended steeply and soon ended in a narrow passage leading into the mountain. They followed it as it sloped down towards darkness.
As soon as Kyric felt ice beneath his feet he tried to stop, but it was too late. When he slipped, Rolirra went with him, and they careened down the spiraling passage, trying not to slam against the corkscrew curves. It became a nightmare ride in the dark.
The passage spit them out into a cavern with a high ceiling, a huge arch opening to the outside. They were below the clouds now, and the rain fell in sheets so great that they could barely see the forest below them.
Kyric limped to the side wall of the cavern and propped himself there. He was bruised in a dozen places, and wished that Rolirra had one more firestone. She pulled her cloak of moss tightly around herself and leaned against him. Outside, the rain fell harder and harder as the daylight faded.
Kyric bolted upright with the clap of thunder. He and Lerica had bedded down in the driest spot they could find in the smaller group of trees, away from the main body of Ilven.
Lerica looked out at the pouring rain, then at Kyric. “Do you think this will help? Do you imagine that Thurlun will simply load his boys into their boat and row away? They will kill anyone they can’t take with them. We’re all witnesses.”
Kyric rose to his feet, flustered with her. “Well they won’t be killing us with firearms at least. Not even a wheel-lock will work in this kind of downpour.”
His elbows were sore. He ran to Rolirra, feeling a little beat up. She stood arms wide, her face to the falling rain.
“A few days of this and it will all be underwater,” he said to her. She looked at him blankly. He shook his head and said it again in Cor’el. Then he remembered something from the dream.
‘I’m so sorry,’ he signed to her. ‘I had forgotten myself when I kissed you under the fallen tree. I would never have done that had I remembered.’
Her confusion turned to a broad smile. ‘No need to apologize. That sort of thing happens when you go very deep, and often it is more than a kiss. Normally we only travel that far with those we trust.’
‘Do you trust me?’
She looked at him gravely. ‘I do.’
‘I know you say that you are not teaching me, but you are. I learn something from you every time we dream together. I will try to remember better, so that I will not do that again.’
‘You only did it because you care about me, and because you are afraid for me. On the other side of the dream, we are not who we are here, so how can it be wrong?’ She hesitated for a moment, then went on. ‘I have a husband. He and our daughter were visiting friends in the mountains when the slavers came to our village. When we were still young, we would go exploring on the other side. There was an accident and he was killed, so now he lives only on this side. Our daughter passed messages between us before you and I began traveling together. Now we do not have even that.’
She took his hand. “If you love me on the other side, but not here, there is no shame in that. You are one of us. And if I had a son, I would want him to be the dreamer that you are.’
They all ate soggy fish that morning, assembling in the open ground in front of the drawbridge when they had finished. No one had come to lower the bridge. None of the overseers had taken their regular stations. Through the dark morning and the pouring rain they could see grey figures near the huts. Aiyan sat motionless on his stump. Channels of water ran in reddened streaks down his back.
“Maybe there’ll be no work today,” said Lerica.
As if to answer her, the clang of the bell and a shouted command rang out, and the guards and overseers went quick-stepping through the mud to their posts.
“Notice,” said Lerica as they trudged to the tables with Rolirra, “that the sharpshooters are all on the ground without their muskets today.”
‘Their firearms will not work in this rain,’ she said-signed to Rolirra. ‘If the Ilven will fight, we can easily overwhelm them.’
Kyric saw how they could do it, but they would have to make a plan. They would need to assigned three or four men to each guard and attack at a given signal.
Rolirra shook her head. ‘This cannot be. We are dreamers.’
“Stop using that Goddess-damned sign language,” came a shout from behind them.
It was Thurlun, double timing across the camp as if it were a fine day. “Get up to those tables and get ready. We’re going to cut a lot of halos today.”
Instead of his usual sabre, he carried Aiyan’s sword in his sash. He wore the locket around his neck, as Aiyan had done. And he moved like a man driven, going from one station to the next, shouting and kicking at them to go faster, his eyes feral and glazed over.
He paused where the slave hunters were covering the longboat with a tarp. Certainly they were not going out in this storm. Thurlun began to berate them as cowards, then stopped abruptly and walked over to Aiyan. They stared at one another for a long time.
“You cannot dishonor me by defiling my sword and my accoutrements,” Aiyan said. “You only hasten your doom.”
Thurlun held up the locket. “I know it’s in there. Show it to me.”
Aiyan didn’t move. “Say my name.”
“Candy.”
“That’s not it.”
“Killer.”
“That is not it.”
“Then I don’t know it,” said Thurlun. He wandered the camp aimlessly for a while before returning to the work of fishing.
The work was difficult in the hard rain, and went slower than ever. Kyric knew that the riverbank would soon turn into a quagmire. The slower they went the more Thurlun rode them, threatening to sever a foot from anyone who did not work faster. One of the pickers went into a panic at this, slipping and falling right into the net that was being hauled in. He was lucky and escaped with only a lakka bite to his leg.
When he next strode past the tables, Thurlun fixed his insane stare upon Lerica. “You’re a clever girl, aren’t you?” he said, as if he could read her thoughts of escape. “If she uses anymore of those Cor’el signs,” he told Tebble, “you can cut her fucking fingers off.”
He started to walk away then turned back. “Wait,” he said, suddenly unsure, “don’t do that.”
When Thurlun was out of earshot, Lerica said, loud enough for Tebble to hear, “He’s gone mad you know. He’s lost his mind.”
“Shut up,” said Tebble, “or I’ll shut you up. He didn’t say anything about not cutting tongues out.”
The three of them became less clumsy as the day went on and they began to learn the tricks of their work. The ground in front of the table was soon churned into a pit of mud. Even with the bad footing, the hard rain made them safer from the ray venom, washing it away wherever it spurt. At the noontime break, Kyric saw that the river had risen a little.
The afternoon turned dark as black clouds gathered in the west, and when the evening came it was upon them before they knew it. All of the overseers began to shout for the slaves to hurry, but the Ilven had already stepped up the pace, eager to be done before dark. By the time the last two angel rays had been tied down at the tables, the haulers had hung up their nets and were plodding towards the bridge. Guppy had just started to lower it, so the Ilven hunkered down in the rain to wait.
Harlon was having his pickers move the racks for their poles and hooks away from the river bank. Ral and the guards at the river bank made for the cover of the huts.
At the tables, Tebble and the other overseer, a man called Ott, shouted at their crews like they were horses in a race. “Yah!” roared Tebble, swatting at Kyric with the knotted rope, “get it tight there!”
The other crew finished first. When Rolirra had taken the last halo and tossed it into the receiving barrel, Tebble had Kyric free all the ties, then he called to the cart
man, “Get the ray off the table at once and get the carcasses dumped.”
The cart man, who Kyric had come to know as Lioffin, hesitated, not sure if the ray had had time to die. But he went ahead when Tebble lashed him with the rope, setting his hook and pulling. As it began to slide into the cart, the ray’s stinger got caught on a loose tie-down. Its tail whipped side to side as it died, and the rope became hopelessly tangled.
Rolirra still had the knife in her hand. Tebble gave her a nod. “Just cut the rope and let’s be done with it.” He pantomimed it for her.
The creature lay dead still. Rolirra had to saw the rope vigorously to get through it. With her final stroke, the angel ray jerked once more and thrust its stinger between her ribs.
She didn’t cry out. She stood there staring at the stinger with a look of fascination. Tebble leapt back, in case of another spray of venom, but Ott dashed to Rolirra’s side drawing his machete. He cut the ray’s tail off with a single stroke, and Rolirra crumpled to the ground, two feet of stinger protruding from her chest. Kyric ran and threw himself down beside her. She took one shallow breath and held it, and that was all. She never breathed out.
“Son of a bitch,” said Tebble, spitting into the hard rain. “At the very end of the day, too. What bad fucking luck.”
“Good thing she never got shackled,” Ott said, “or we would have that to deal with.”
“Alright,” announced Tebble, looking at Lerica, Lioffin, and Kyric in turn, “it’s all over now. Get that fish and her body on the cart and get them dumped before it gets any darker.”
“No!” said Kyric in a harsh, torn voice. “No, you will not — “
He leapt to his feet, ripping the stinger from Rolirra’s body, and plunging it into Tebble’s throat. There was plenty of poison left in it. Tebble made a gurgling sound as he sank to his knees and fell face first into the mud.
Lerica sprang into action at Kyric’s first move. One-hand on the table, she kicked high with both legs, wrapping the shackle chain around Ott’s neck, bringing him down hard. She tightened her stranglehold and he dropped his machete, clawing at the irons.
Kyric left Tebble where he fell and knelt over Ott, the stinger still in his hands. He thrust it into his heart.
“Well done,” said Lerica, regaining her feet.
The Ilven raised their eyes to Kyric. ‘What are we to do now?’ signed Lioffin.
He quickly scanned the camp. Almost everyone had gone to the huts. Thurlun stood talking to Pacey near the longboat, and Guppy’s back had been to them as he lowered the bridge. No one had seen what happened at the tables.
His heart was racing. It was hard to focus. He had to think of how to say it in Cor’el. ‘Place the men on the cart and go dump them in the usual spot. Bring the cart back and cross to the island like you always do.’
The crew of the other table stood there wide-eyed. ‘You,’ he signed to the larger of the two men, ‘go with Lioffin. You other two, take Rolirra to the island. Lift her up and get her arms across your shoulders.’ He didn’t know the word-sign for pretend. ‘Make like she is sick and you are only helping her.’
“Lerica, slide that machete into a trouser leg — you’ve hurt your knee. Cross over with the others and wait for me.”
She whirled to face him. “What? Look at the chance we have here. All is in disorder and it’s getting dark. Let’s go kill every damned one of them right now.”
Her eyes were hard as stone. She really wasn’t afraid of anything. “How can we fight them while in leg irons?” he said. “We won’t be able to move well enough.”
“We moved well enough for these two. And in the mud it may not matter.”
Kyric kept his eye on Guppy, who could turn around at any moment and see them standing there arguing. “There’s still a dozen of them One to six are bad odds.”
“We’ll take them unawares,” she said, fetching Tebble’s machete and offering it to him. “Come on. In a few minutes the chance will be lost.”
He placed one hand on her shoulder and leaned in, speaking evenly. “Lerica. Your blood is up and your mind is working too fast — like the first night we were here. Remember that? I need you to do as I’ve asked.”
She hissed at him, making her hands into claws like she wanted to strangle him, but turned away nevertheless, unfastening her waist band and trying to find a workable place for the machete in the leg of her breeches. Lioffin snapped a few words at the other Ilven and they fell to their tasks.
“And what about you?” she asked him.
“I have to tell Aiyan about this.”
Kyric slipped Tebble’s machete half into his trouser leg, against his hip, leaving the other half under his shirt, holding it against his ribs with his elbow. He waited until they made it past Guppy, fearful that Lerica would pull her blade if anything went wrong, but Guppy stayed under the tree where the block and tackle were fixed, his wide-brimmed hat pulled low over his eyes. He winced as they dragged Rolirra’s lifeless body over the bridge.
The last of the pickers were heading to the island, and Kyric mixed with them as he crossed the open ground.
“Hey,” called Guppy. Kyric pretended not to hear. “Hey you, arrow boy. I’m talking to you.”
Kyric cursed silently. He would have to deal with this. “Me?”
“Yes you. Where did Ott and Tebble go?”
Kyric looked back to the tables. The men with the cart had made it to cover behind the trees.
“Tebble went with the cart to make sure they dumped it properly. The last I saw of Ott, he was heading for the huts.”
Guppy shook his head. “Bastard.” He pulled his hat lower.
When Guppy didn’t ask why Kyric had not crossed over yet, he kept walking like he had a purpose. Aiyan looked up as he approached. Kyric quickly told him what they had done.
“I’ve got most everyone on the island. Lerica smuggled one machete across and I have the other one. What do I do now?”
Aiyan looked at him for a long moment, then everything in him changed all at once. His smoldering glare vanished, his eyes becoming clear and cool. The hardness around his mouth soften a little. He took his rain-soaked shirt and put it on, even though the back was in shreds. He was muddy, sunburned, beaten, and a little starved, but when he spoke to Kyric it was with the same dignity he had showed with Princess Aerlyn.
“Get the last of them onto the island and stand ready at the foot of the bridge. Without their guns, the two of you alone could hold them back for quite a while. With any luck I’ll join you shortly, but if I don’t make it, I want you to know that in a fight, you can take any one of these men.”
“What about Breed?”
“He’s the exception — you don’t want to go blade to blade with him. But it will be dark. I would distract him and get Lerica to stab him in the back.” He glanced skyward. “But if it keeps raining, I feel that the levee around the lake of the ruins will fail soon, and it will all come down the river. Hold them until then.”
For a moment, Kyric went weak with relief. Aiyan was himself again. “What are you going to do?”
Aiyan stood. “What I should have done this morning.”
CHAPTER 15: Islands in the Sky
Kyric crossed the bridge without a glance from Guppy. He loitered near the moat while Lerica crouched in the tall grass, her machete already drawn from her trousers and held low. The two men with the cart had not yet returned.
Aiyan faced the camp. “Thurlun! Colonel Thurlun! I must speak to you at once.” His voice boomed over the rain.
Thurlun looked up from his conversation with Pacey and came sloshing over to stand before Aiyan.
“I’m ready,” said Aiyan. “I will show it to you now.”
Thurlun let out a breath. “I knew you’d come around, Candy.”
Aiyan held out his hand. “Here. I’ll open it for you.”
Thurlun slipped the chain from around his neck. He held onto the locket for a moment, dangling it from his fingers, still wary o
f getting too close to Aiyan. Aiyan edged to within arm’s length, and gently took it from him.
He opened it with a flick of his thumb, and Thurlun froze upon seeing the essence of the flame. He stood stunned for a beat, hesitating to reach for it.
Aiyan pulled it back, saying, “It is not for you to hold.”
He had yanked his manacle chain taut, and now he thrust the blue fire beneath the link closest to his hand. The flame licked at it, and instantly it turned white-hot, breaking in two with a sharp metallic snap.
Shocked from his trance, Thurlun recovered his senses at once, sliding back and reaching for his sword, for Aiyan’s sword, but Aiyan was already upon him, his hand closing on Ivestris’ hilt at the same time as Thurlun’s. The two of them drew the blade as one. Aiyan stepped in close with a circular movement, and for a moment they were mirror images of each other. Aiyan swung the blade up, then down. Thurlun had to let go or be thrown, and Aiyan took back his sword. Continuing the motion, he swung backhanded with all his strength and drove the pommel through the laces of Thurlun’s vest and into his ribs. He fell, kicking in the mud, an airy wheezing sound coming from him, much like the death whine of the angel ray.
Guppy had seen it. He bellowed an incoherent alarm, drawing his machete. Kyric thought about crossing back and attacking him, but he already lumbered toward Aiyan, spewing out a string of curses. Pacey had seen it too. He ran to the huts.
Aiyan, his blade now wrapped in blue flames, went straight at Guppy, quick-stepping in the mud, his feet barely touching. He always moved so lightly for such a large man. He cut Guppy down with one slash, not even breaking his stride, and crossed the bridge at the trot, severing the support ropes as he did. Kyric met him as soon as he was across.
“Stand absolutely still,” said Aiyan.
With two terrifying strokes of his flaming sword, he cut the chain from Kyric’s leg irons. When it was Lerica’s turn she had to close her eyes, but after it was done she did a little skipping dance, chanting, “Yes, yes.”
The Hidden Fire (Book 2) Page 14