Connor’s expression spoke for him. They headed on, but the four bowmen kept their weapons out and ready. Blaine eyed the ridges of the canyon above them, but he did not spot any watchers.
The footing was rough and in many places, the passages were so tight that the group had to move in single file. Perfect killing box, Blaine thought grimly, and a look at Piran confirmed that the other had the same idea.
“How far in do we have to go to find this city?” Dawe asked.
Blaine grimaced. “From the map, assuming everything was to scale, it should take most of the day.”
Dawe glanced at him. “Cutting it close, isn’t it? The solstice is the day after tomorrow.”
Blaine shrugged. “Then we’d better keep up the pace and hope for the best, huh?”
By the position of the sun overhead, Blaine knew they had walked for two candlemarks after emerging from the cave. Everyone was anxious to keep moving, so lunch was hurried, with only a brief break to rest.
Zaryae sat apart from the group, deep in concentration, seeking guidance from her cards and crystals. “Is she unwell?” Blaine asked Illarion when the group stopped to eat.
Illarion frowned. “She said her dreams have been dark. We’re in an area where wild magic is strong. Until she can determine exactly what we’re being warned about, she doesn’t want to speak of it.”
Blaine nodded. Piran ambled up to where they were sitting. “Does your bloody map give us any clues about what’s ahead in the canyon?” he grumbled.
Kestel shook her head. “It wasn’t that detailed, other than to indicate the route in. You wouldn’t expect a hidden valley to be easy to find, would you?”
“Because then it wouldn’t be hidden,” Verran added, elbowing Piran. They began walking again.
They rounded a bend and came to a stop. “I think we’ve found the second Guardian,” Connor said.
The narrow passage opened to a broad area enclosed by canyon walls. A wall of thornbushes nearly seven feet tall stretched from side to side in the canyon. There was an obvious opening, and close inside, another wall of thorns.
“Looks like a maze,” Illarion said.
“Can we climb above it?” Piran asked, eyeing the rock walls of the canyon. “Get a bird’s-eye view?”
Borya and Desya walked to either side of the canyon and ran their hands over the stone. Borya attempted to gain a handhold but slid down the wall. Desya also tried, with similar results. Borya climbed onto Desya’s shoulders, looking for a hold farther up the wall. He found nothing suitable. The twins returned, shaking their heads.
“Someone’s intentionally smoothed off the walls of the canyon,” Desya reported.
“Can you drive pinions into the walls?” Kestel asked. “Use ropes to get above the maze?”
“It’s worth a try,” Borya said.
They unpacked the pinions and Desya took one of the lengths of rope, using the same harness that had gotten them through the cave. Borya helped him into the harness and once again climbed onto his shoulders to position the first pinion at the very top of his reach.
Borya jumped down, doing a somersault for good measure and landing on his feet. He helped Desya hoist himself up with the pinion and secured Desya’s safety line as Desya carefully lodged several more pinions, each higher than the others. Finally Desya had managed to gain a vantage point halfway up the cliff wall.
For several moments, Desya surveyed the maze, using Blaine’s spyglass. Kestel had given him a piece of charcoal and a bit of parchment on which to note the contours of the maze, and Desya balanced skillfully as he made swift, bold strokes, then tucked the map into his vest and let himself down, reclaiming the pinions as he descended.
“Anything?” Blaine asked when Desya and Borya rejoined him.
Desya shook his head. “Not as much as we hoped. Whoever set up the maze deliberately designed it so that anything I can see from this wall – and from the other wall as well, I wager – are just outer pathways. Whatever traps there are must be toward the center, and I couldn’t see that section even with the spyglass.”
“Don’t forget the riddle Nidhud gave us,” Piran said. “‘In the abyss, the last breath is taken. Beware the gardener, who prunes and harvests. Blood is the coin to pass among the shadows. Narrow is the path through the flames,’” he quoted.
“We’ve been through the abyss, and now we know what they meant by ‘last breath,’” Blaine said. “So in the maze, we need to watch out for a ‘gardener’?”
“Or perhaps just keep an eye out for something that cuts down what doesn’t belong,” Piran pointed out.
“Were you at least able to map the maze pattern?” Kestel asked Desya. Excitement glinted in her eyes at the challenge.
Desya withdrew the parchment and charcoal and handed them to her. “What I could see, I drew. I couldn’t make out the path we’d need to take through it. Whoever designed the thing didn’t want to make it easy.”
Kestel, Connor, and Blaine studied Desya’s drawing. Lowrey crowded in and bent down to have a better look.
“From what he’s drawn, the beginning of the maze is fairly straightforward,” Lowrey said when he stood and pushed his spectacles back up on his nose. “Labyrinths and mazes are quite popular with mages because they are ways to focus the mind. This looks like a rather common configuration.” He eyed them over his glasses. “Which means that the challenge may not be the maze itself. The challenge is more likely something inside it.”
Blaine looked to Connor. “Does anything trigger your Quintrel memories?”
Connor looked uncomfortable, and Blaine guessed the drawing had indeed caused a reaction. “I’ve been getting a vision since I first saw the entrance to the maze.” He shook his head. “The problem is, I’m only seeing the first turn, not the whole path through the maze, and nothing to indicate any traps. I’m hoping that more memories will come when I see landmarks within the maze.”
“Let’s hope so,” Kestel murmured, making a sign of warding.
Connor headed toward the maze when Borya caught his arm. “You go first? Then you wear this.” He thrust the harness at Connor. “Just in case.”
Connor moved to protest then relented, and Blaine guessed he was thinking about the cave. In just a few moments, Borya and Desya had him in the harness, with the rope trailing behind where Blaine and Illarion kept a loose hold.
“I feel like a dog on a leash,” Connor muttered.
“That ‘leash’ kept Lowrey and me from falling to our deaths,” Blaine replied. “It’s worth the damage to your dignity.”
Connor led the way, followed by Blaine and Illarion. The others filed after them, with Piran, Borya, and Desya watching the rear and Dawe on alert in the center of the group. Guided by the prompting of Quintrel’s embedded memories, Connor worked his way through the outer layers of the maze, stopping by each opening and branch to consult his inner sense.
“How about you?” Kestel asked Zaryae as they wound through the initial passageways. “Are you picking up anything?”
Zaryae nodded. “My dreams last night warned of danger. Things are not as they seem. We must watch for shadows.”
Kestel frowned. “Shadows?”
Zaryae gave a weak smile. “The images are often not as clear as I would like them to be. I have a strong feeling of shadows and danger, but no specifics.”
Kestel nodded. “Then we’ll keep an eye out.”
Around the next bend, Connor came to a halt and held up his hand. “Wait,” he said. They had wound their way back and forth through the maze without obstacle, and the farther in they got without incident the more nervous Blaine became. Someone wants us to stop being cautious, he thought. The maze-maker wants us to let our guard down. We’re about due for a surprise.
The next turn lay up a slight rise. The path beneath their feet was made of the same crushed rock as the floor of the canyon, and they were walled in on every side by the thick tangle of thornbushes. Connor stopped and stood very still, his eyes u
nfocused. After a moment, he shook himself and blinked.
“Another Quintrel memory,” he said. “There’s a drop-off up ahead, but as usual, he left a riddle: ‘Beware the pit.’ That’s it – nothing more helpful,” Connor said, spreading his hands palm up in a gesture of futility.
Connor moved carefully, step-by-step, pausing to rise on tiptoe and peer ahead.
“What do you see?” Blaine asked.
“Nothing. I really hate the son of a bitch who set up these Guardians,” Connor replied. “I can’t see anything —”
Connor’s words vanished in a strangled cry as the ground gave way beneath his feet and he disappeared from view. Blaine and Illarion grabbed the rope. Kestel and Verran caught the rope as well. Digging in their heels, they managed to jerk the rope still.
“Connor! Are you all right?”
“Yeah!” Connor shouted, his voice muted. “The pit was right at the rise and hidden by shadow so I didn’t see it until it was too late.”
“We’ll pull you up,” Illarion said.
“Wait a moment. This looks familiar. I need to look around,” Connor said. He was silent for a few moments.
“It’s like the cave. There’s a way through it, but only if you know what to look for. Just falling brings you down on some nasty sharp stones. But in the corner the floor is smooth, and a ladder’s been chipped into the far side of the pit. Drag me to the corner and then lower me down a little.”
Blaine and Illarion did as Connor directed and felt the rope go slack as Connor reached the ground. “All right!” Connor shouted. “I’m going to cross the pit and climb out the other side, just to make sure. If it works, you can start coming down one at a time, but make sure you come down in the corner.”
In a few moments, Connor emerged from the pit and stood much farther down the path. Lowering each person was a slow process, but finally Borya and Desya were the last ones left.
“Go on,” Borya said. “I’ll use the pinions.” Desya nodded, and Borya lowered him down, then reclaimed the empty harness.
“I’ll join you in a moment,” he said, shrugging into the harness. Blaine and the others watched as Borya lay down on the path and leaned over the edge to secure a pinion in the wall, then wrapped the rope around the pinion and began to rappel down the side of the pit.
“I’m going to have to sacrifice a pinion,” he shouted. “No way to get it back out, but if we have to come back this path, we’ll have a way up the other side.”
In a few moments, Borya had gathered his rope, crossed the pit, and climbed to the top. “Do you think that’s the trap?” he asked, with a backward glance at the sharp rocks on the pit floor.
Connor shook his head. “No. Another one of Quintrel’s memories came back while I was dangling: ‘Beware the blades of the gods.’”
“What in Raka does that mean?” Piran demanded. “And why can’t Quintrel say anything straight out?”
Connor shrugged. “I imagine he thought it was safer this way.” He paused. “But there’s another image along with it. I think I’ll recognize the place when I see it. I hope.”
They made their way through several more turns of the maze, with Connor stopping to concentrate and get his bearings at each juncture. After a dozen turns, they were near the center, and the high thorn hedge cast a shadow across the next stretch of the maze.
“Careful,” Kestel warned with a glance toward Zaryae, who nodded. “Zaryae had a dream about dangerous shadows.”
Connor was staring at the stretch ahead without moving, as if lost in thought. Finally, he bent down and picked up a handful of the fine rock dust that covered the path. He threw it into the air in front of him.
“What’s that for?” Piran asked skeptically.
“Watch,” Connor replied, nodding toward the path ahead.
Fine dust billowed, but instead of falling straight down to the ground, some of the particles appeared to hang in midair, as if suspended by the shadows themselves. “What is that?” Illarion asked.
Connor removed his cloak and let the hem of it flutter against the darkness. Four thin slices appeared in the heavy fabric, as if it were gossamer. “Hidden blades. Quintrel’s ‘blades of the gods.’ They’re made of something very thin and dark,” Connor said, “placed on end in the shadows so they can’t be seen. They look to be anchored in the ground.”
Piran let out a low whistle. “Be a real bugger to run into if you weren’t looking,” he said, eyeing the trap appreciatively. “How do we get past it?”
Connor threw another handful of dust into the shadows, and for good measure, tapped at the hidden blades with his sword. “There’s a space on the right side,” he said. “It’s narrow, and you’re likely to get torn up a bit by the thorns, but there’s no room between the blades. There should be a second trap just past these blades, but I don’t have a clear vision yet.
“I’ll test the path to the right,” he said warily. He threw his cloak over one shoulder and arm to protect him as much as possible from the thorns. Connor worked his way past the blades, which shaved a few threads off the edge of his cloak as he passed. “Damn, they’re sharp,” he muttered.
The shadows and the blades hid Connor from sight, but Blaine could hear Connor’s footsteps crunching on the rock for several steps, then silence. “What’s happening?” Blaine called out.
“There’s a second set of blades,” Connor said, “set vertically in the ground like the first ones. I imagine that’s for any poor, overconfident blighter who makes it through the first set and starts to move ahead in a rush,” he said with a grimace. “There’s room for you to edge to the left and make your way down the far side along the hedge. Watch for the dust.” He paused. “Then get as low as you can – there’s a single wire set at neck height, sharp as a razor. Be careful,” he added ruefully. “I lost some hair ducking under that one.”
Blaine was the next to go. It was a tight fit between the last blade and the vicious thorns that tore at the fabric of his cloak and raised bloody scratches on his arms. Despite his best efforts, his shoulder rubbed some of the dust from the blade in passing. “Throw more dust once I’m through,” he called back. “You’ll have to do it after every person to see your way.”
Blaine eyed the blades warily. He could not guess what they were made of. They had the thin, razor-sharp edge of an obsidian blade but the strength of steel, like a finely honed sword. They’re a nasty piece of work, he thought.
When they had gathered on the far side of the blades, Blaine looked to Connor. “Glad to have you along,” he said with a tired grin. “I’d have hated to run into those without warning.”
He paused and looked down the next corridor of the maze. The sun was past the midpoint, and the shadows were getting longer. “What next?”
Connor stared into the shadows, and Blaine wondered if he saw more than he let on. “Another remembered warning: We must cheat death.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
C
onnor made his way through the maze, mindful of the lengthening afternoon shadows. The thought of spending a night in the maze was disquieting. Then again, we have no idea what is waiting for us on the other side, he thought. Compared to that, the maze may seem friendly and safe.
The others followed him through the maze, and Connor felt a crushing weight of responsibility for their safety. As he passed specific points, Quintrel’s hidden memories surfaced randomly, popping unbidden into his head but denying him the security of being able to formulate a plan. Penhallow’s presence was silent during the day. The Wraith Lord, no longer constrained by day and night as a passenger in his mind, was a more consistent voice than either Quintrel’s or Penhallow’s, though he spoke when it suited him and did not seem to feel obligated to answer Connor’s questions.
How in Raka did I end up as the point man? he wondered. They’re all depending on me. Gods above! Before the Great Fire, I would have said that anyone who heard voices in his mind was insane, and now I’ve got two vampires and a mag
e rattling round in my brain, speaking up when they please and doling out bits and pieces at their leisure.
The mountain air had been crisp by day; as night approached, the wind’s bite grew sharper. Connor drew his cloak around him, but that did nothing to shield his face and hands. They had brought the bare minimum of supplies with them, leaving behind their tents and extra blankets with the horses. The prospect of a cold night was not appealing.
“We’ll have to light lanterns before much longer,” Blaine said. “Any idea how much more of the maze there is to navigate?”
Connor shrugged. His mood was grim. “I’m afraid Quintrel’s memories don’t trigger until there’s a landmark, so I don’t know about it until I see it.”
Lowrey, who had stayed close to the front throughout the maze, nodded. “I’ve been marking down our path as we go, just in case we have to leave the way we came. If the maze holds to the familiar pattern, we should be nearly through. Not much farther until we’re out.” Zaryae slipped up beside Blaine so quietly he had not noticed until she spoke. “My dreams warn me that we will pay a price. I don’t know exactly what that means, but I take the warning seriously.” Grief was heavy in her voice, as if the loss had already occurred.
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