Metal it was, studs and rivets and bands crisscrossing. Dark it was, a brownish gold. Tall and wide it was, mayhap nine feet by four. And in the center was scribed a rune. “It seems to be made of high-grade bronze,” said Trendel without removing his hand from the door.
Arik and Rith both stepped forward to examine it.
“No handle for opening, nor keyhole for unlocking, assuming it is locked,” said Arik. “I haven’t the foggiest idea how to get it open.”
“Where is Arton when you need him?” said Rith, and suddenly her eyes brimmed with tears. She wiped the heels of her hands across her eyes, and said, “He could get into anything.”
“What is that rune, Trendel?”
The seer spoke a word, and then said, “It is what powers the illusion.”
Arik sighed. “I was hoping that it would tell us how to get in.”
“Perhaps there’s a lever or pressure stone to open it,” said Trendel. “But it could be virtually anywhere on the mound, and not necessarily be nearby.”
“Still,” said Arik. “Come on, Rith. Let’s see if we can find something that will open it.”
Arik and Rith spent long moments pushing and prodding and pulling at stones and peering into crevices and stomping on flats and—
“Then again,” said Trendel, “it could open by word alone.”
Rith stepped back to the door, and she placed a hand next to Trendel’s and spoke a word. The door hummed under Rith’s spell. She frowned and changed the tone, then changed it again, and she brushed her fingers over the panel. Finally she said, “It opens from the inside, but how to get in, that’s the problem.”
Arik said, “We need Ky.”
Trendel smiled and said, “Ky is the key?”
“She can get inside,” said Arik.
“It will be risky,” said Rith. “Are you certain you would have her do it?”
“Can you gauge the space just inside?”
“I think so.”
“Then do it.”
Again, Rith placed her hand on the door, and this time she started her spell at a different tone and then ran up and down through a range of individual notes. As before, the door itself faintly vibrated in response. “By the muffled echoes returning, I think there’s at least a short but straight-running corridor lying just beyond. More than that, I cannot say.”
“I’ll get Ky,” said Arik.
“What about Kane?” asked Trendel.
Arik frowned and said, “We could at least bring him to the door.”
“What if there’s something bad inside?” asked Rith. “He would be helpless should it get out and go after him.”
Arik nodded and paused in thought. Finally, he said, “Look, Trendel is needed here to dispel the illusion, at least until Ky opens the door. If there’s something bad inside, then I am the best one to take it on, since I seldom get wounded. That leaves you, Rith.”
“Dretch!” spat Rith. “I knew it might come to this. All right, Arik, I’ll get Ky to come here, while I watch over Kane. Damn him for angering the Dark God in the first place, else we wouldn’t be in this fix.”
“It was only by Kane enraging the Dark God that I got a look at the rune in the gemstone,” said Trendel, “and if that hadn’t happened, then we’d all be deaders.”
Rith threw up her hands and exasperatedly said, “Do you have to find a bright side in everything?”
“Well, yes,” said Trendel, grinning.
“Oh, give me a kiss,” said Rith, unable to resist Trendel’s smile, “and I’ll get Ky.”
“Be sure and give her back her sword,” said Arik. “Where she’s going she’ll need it.”
“Yes, yes,” said Rith, trudging away, “that goes without saying.”
Though it seemed much longer to Arik and Trendel, shortly thereafter, bearing a burning brand and wearing her darksword harnessed across her back, Ky came trotting ’round the curve of the barrow.
“Good thing she brought light,” said Trendel.
Arik nodded. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it. I mean, after all, we’re counting on it being dark in there.”
Ky handed Arik the brand, then looked at the door Trendel leaned one-handed against. “Rith says there’s a short corridor just within.”
Trendel nodded.
“And you are certain that Lyssa is inside there somewhere?”
“Fifty paces straight in,” said Trendel.
“It might not be dark in there, you know,” said the diminutive Shadowmaster.
“But if it is . . .” said Arik.
“I’ll give it a try,” said Ky.
Ky looked about in the afternoon light, and long shadows streamed toward the mound from the nearby arc of trees of the Kalagar Wood. She picked a shadow lying out from the foot of a large oak, and then paced from the base of the tree to the door. Twice she did this, and finally she stood with her back to the bole of the oak. She gauged the slight upward angle between tree and door. Then she stepped out from the shadow and slipped her shield onto her left arm and drew her ebon-bladed sword.
“Let us hope there are no skelga or drakka or other demons lying in wait along the in-between,” she said.
“Mayhap with the destruction of the demonworld,” said Arik, “they are not there.”
Ky shook her head. “If that world is truly gone, then they might have all taken refuge in the in-between.”
“Oh, Ky, I would not have you—” Arik started to say, but in that same moment Ky said a word and stepped into the shadow of the oak and vanished.
“Dretch!” shouted Arik, “I might have sent her to her death.”
In that same moment, with a clank and a squeal, the bronze door began to swing open, with Trendel moving backward as it did—
—and out stepped Ky.
“Good thing it was dark in there,” said the Shadowmaster, gesturing at the black stone corridor down which the westering sun now winged light aslant.
Arik glanced at her ebon sword blade. No dark ichor dripped from it—hence no demons had been lying in wait along the path Ky had shadow-traveled.
Trendel swung his shield ’round from his back and slipped it onto his left arm, and took his war axe in hand.
Arik did the same with his own shield, and he transferred the torch to his left hand as well, and drew his silver-flashed sword.
And armed and armored, the trio stepped into the sunlit passage, though dimness grew deeper within.
The stone of the passage itself—ceiling, walls, floor—was jet black.
“This is like the stone of the Kalagar Gate, the arch,” said Ky. She looked overhead and added, “Perhaps it goes all the way up, and is one with the arch itself.”
She looked back toward the door, framed by sunlight, the day seeping inward. But the farther they trod, the darker it became, as if the black stone were sucking the light away.
Some ten paces inside, the corridor ended, and they came into a large cavern.
“Ugh,” said Ky, the Shadowmaster needing no light to see, for she was a master of darkness, and shade was like pale daylight to her.
“What is it?” asked Trendel, just as Arik raised the torch the better to illuminate the interior.
“Oh, my,” said Trendel, his gaze sweeping out and ’round.
In the depths of the mound lay pile upon pile of the remains of those who had been sacrificed to power the gate. Now they were nought but skeletons and desiccated corpses—men, women, children, infants—some stacked like cordwood in places, others heaped in mounds elsewhere, and yet others strewn about. Some were without heads, others with crushed skulls, some with their remaining leathery flesh showing gaping wounds in throats, and still others with rib cages broken open, as if someone had torn out their beating hearts. Most wore rent clothing, as if sacrificed as they were. Also scattered among the remains lay heaps of discarded equipment—bows, arrows, knives, swords, garments, armor, bedrolls, backpacks, and the like. It was if demons had snatched up random wayfarers a
nd brought them to this dreadful place and immediately slaughtered them. A sprinkle of coinage lay here and there, and some of the dead wore jewelry, which, along with the equipment, was of little worth to demonkind.
“’Ware,” warned Arik, gripping his sword. “We know not whether these dead can do us harm.”
Trendel said a word, and peered at the remains. “Their souls are gone; there’s nothing to animate them.”
“I didn’t think the undead had souls,” said Ky. “Spirits, perhaps, but not souls.”
“Many undead do not,” said Trendel.
Ky frowned. “Wait; if it takes souls to animate undead, then how—”
“If they are animated,” said Trendel, “it’s due to the power of the Dark God, or the power of one of his acolytes, such as Horax or Atraxia.”
“Demon power, as well?”
“In some cases.”
“Which way lies Lyssa?” asked Arik.
“Yon,” said Trendel. “Thirty paces.”
“I take it that would be the center of the barrow,” said Arik.
“It is,” replied Trendel.
“Hold it,” said Ky.
Both Arik and Trendel came to ready, and Arik hissed, “Where away the danger?”
“Not danger,” said Ky, stepping in among the corpses lying in the shadows. “I have to pick up something.”
A moment later she stepped back out from the remains, a bandolier of daggers looped across her chest. “For Rith,” said the syldari. “To replace the two daggers she lost.”
“We didn’t come here to pick bones,” said Arik.
“I know, so let’s move on,” said Ky.
“Even so,” said Trendel, “we can replace some of the gear we lost.”
“After we get Lyssa,” gritted Arik, striding on ahead, “then we can rob the dead.”
Ahead in the dimness they saw a faint glow.
Arik raised his torch. “Oh, Arda,” he said. “Lyssa.”
She lay on a raised altar—a massive, rectangular block of stone, all of a piece with the floor—dark runes scribed ’round the base. Lyssa’s ghostly light was faint, and the wispy tendrils that normally streamed out from her were all but extinguished. Some twenty feet in diameter, a dull black ring scribed in the shiny jet stone circled the altar itself.
“Stand nigh,” said Arik. “She needs life essence.”
“Wait till I decipher these runes,” said Trendel, but Arik stepped forward heedless and into the circle, and, as if poleaxed, he collapsed at the foot of the block, the torch falling to the stone beside him, his sword clanging down from his hand.
Ky started forward, but Trendel shouted, “Wait!”
Ky stopped, and Trendel said a seer’s word. “Ah, now I can see.”
He said another seer’s word. And, staying outside the circle, he slowly walked around the altar, reading the runes.
“Trendel, hurry!” called Ky. “Lyssa is growing brighter. She is sucking the life essence from Arik. If you don’t act soon, he’ll be dead.”
Ky hefted her black shadowblade as if readying herself to throw it much the same as a spear. A strike from it would be fatal to a ghost; surely it would kill Lyssa. “Don’t make me choose, oh, gods, don’t make me choose.”
“I have it!” shouted Trendel. He shed his shield and dropped his war axe. “Go unarmed it said, all but the sacrificial obsidian blades.”
Weaponless, Trendel stepped to the altar and dragged Arik clear. Then he kicked the torch out from the circle as well as Arik’s sword.
Then Trendel stood near Lyssa for a while, and her light grew brighter still, and her ghostly tendrils began to glow.
Moments later he stepped away, and Ky disarmed herself and stepped near. Within but heartbeats, Lyssa stirred and opened her ghostly eyes and turned her head to see Ky. A keening wail like wind at the eaves sighed from her mouth.
Even though in the past he had cast a seer’s spell to master this particular form of communication, Trendle was yet amazed at how much could be said via gestures—some large, some small, some seemingly insignificant—the Black Foxes brought into play to denote whole-concept ideas or phrases, as well as how rapidly positioned fingers could be used to spell out words that were not in the standard repertoire.
“I think she’s has enough life force for now,” said Trendel.
Ky stepped out of the circle.
Lyssa sat up and saw Arik unconscious on the floor.
“He passed out, but I think he’s all right,” said Trendel, feeling Arik’s pulse. “His heart is strong.”
Lyssa then signed,
“It is yet day outside, Lyssa,” said Ky, backing away, even as Trendel dragged Arik farther off from the altar.
Ky and Trendel retrieved their weapons, slipping Arik’s into his scabbard.
Ky patted Arik’s face. “Wake up, Arik. We have no need for two unconscious lummoxes in this band.
Arik moaned and moments later opened his eyes. “Wha—? Lyssa!”
“She’s awake and well fed, Arik,” said Trendel.
Arik struggled to sit up, and after a false start and with some help from Trendel, he managed to get to his feet. He turned and looked at Lyssa, now sitting on the altar and waiting. And down within Arik’s eyes dwelled a deep sadness, a grief for all he and Lyssa had lost—they could not embrace or even touch, and he loved her still.
she signed, profound grief in her eyes as well.
“And I love you, Lyssa,” he replied, then he turned and took up his shield.
“She nearly sucked you dry,” said Ky, keeping her voice low. “Not that she meant to, but she was unconscious at the time, just as were you. But we got you out of the circle.”
“Arik, the next time I tell you to wait,” said Trendel, “it’s best that you listen.”
“I know,” said Arik. “I barged in like a bull, like Kane would have. Next time I won’t be so, um, hasty.”
“Even if it’s Lyssa?” asked Ky.
“Well . . .”
“I know, I know,” said Ky. “Were it Kane instead, I also would have leapt without looking.”
“Blind love,” said Trendel.
“Ha!” barked Ky. “You and Rith.”
Trendel smiled. “Well, there is that.”
With Ky carrying the torch, they started for the exit, and Arik cast a glance over his shoulder and turned and started back.
“What is it?” asked Ky, turning as well. Then she said, “Oh,” for Lyssa was frantically signaling.
“She can’t cross the black circle,” said Arik.
They walked back toward the altar, and Lyssa gestured for them to keep their distance.
“Have you tried sinking through the floor?” asked Ky.
Ky looked up. The same jet black stone arched overhead.
signaled Lyssa, now floating above the altar.
“And the dark circle?” asked Trendel.
“Wait a moment,” said Ky. “The other spirits came up from the ground. How did they get out if Lyssa cannot?”
“Rith said it,” replied Arik. “Those other wraiths were sacrificed here; Lyssa was not.”
Ky frowned and said, “Then Lyssa is trapped by stone and a dark circle.”
“We’ll have to break the ring,” said Trendel. He took his war axe in hand and slammed it to the stone where the circle lay.
Nothing happened.
Arik tried his silver-flashed sword.
Still nothing.
Ky scratched the point of the ebon blade of her shadowsword across the ring.
The circle remained unbroken.
“Stand back,” said Ky, dropping her shield, and taking the torch in her left hand. “Lys
sa, get as high as you can.”
As the men stepped back and Lyssa floated upward to the ceiling, Ky frowned in concentration. She pushed her free hand out toward the dull ring and said a word. An intense black bolt shot from her palm, and crashed into the stone.
It had no effect on the ring.
“Perhaps Rith can shatter it with sound,” said Trendel, “just as she broke the arch.”
“There is something I would try first,” said Ky, walking around to the back of the altar. She tossed the torch into the ring, and it skidded to the base of the solid stone block, and a great wavering shadow loomed upward.
The syldari looked above and said, “Come down, Lyssa, and stand just within the circle on the far side from the torch, as close to the ring as you can get.”
Lyssa descended and did as Ky bade. Withdrawing her sword from its scabbard, Ky quietly lay the ebon blade down. She lifted the bandolier with its daggers over her head and lay that beside the sword. She set her shield to the stone as well. Then she walked around to where in the darkness Lyssa floated an inch or so above the floor. And before anyone could stop her, Ky stepped across the ring and embraced the essence of Lyssa and vanished, only to reappear outside the circle, Lyssa yet in her clasp.
And as Lyssa, now blazing with life force, wailed and whirled away, Ky fell to the stone as if dead.
21
Five Months Before the Hearing
(Coburn Facility)
The medtechs breathed sighs of relief, for it seemed as if they had finally gotten Alice stabilized. She was yet chill, but her temp was no longer drifting down, or if it was, then it had imperceptibly done so in the time they had been monitoring. And they watched the main holo as Arik and Rith and Trendel searched for a way into the barrow mound and finally found a door. Then Rith went back to look after Kane, while Ky joined the two yet at the mound.
As Ky opened the door from the inside, “How clever,” muttered Drew Meyer, the bald-headed physicist appreciative of the intelligence shown. “I was wondering how they would succeed.”
“No wooden-headed dummies these Foxes,” said Billy Clay.
“Oh, ugh,” said Toni, as the desiccated corpses came into view.
“There’s Lyssa,” said Alvin. “Oh, my, but she seems on the verge of flickering out.”
Shadowprey: A Black Foxes Adventure Page 11