Chapter 18
Dominic braced himself on his elbows, waiting for the wave of dizziness to pass. He was doing better—much better than last time, but he still found it tiring to sit up for long periods. The storm had finally stopped, so he was the only reason they still remained in the ancient lost city.
“Ah, good. You’re awake again.” Markus came in the room, carefully cradling something wrapped in a blanket. “I know you wanted to go down to the water cave, but perhaps this will be an acceptable substitute. We really should take something back with us, and I’m hoping you can select the most interesting pieces.”
“Pieces? Of what? I thought you said there were only bones and wreckage down there.” Dominic watched with interest as Markus knelt and unwrapped the blanket. He had been deeply disappointed he could not visit the cavern, but he reluctantly agreed with Ardhuin’s assessment that he should not be exposed to more magic of an unknown type, and it seemed clear there was much magic in the structures here.
“Ah. Well, what we thought was wreckage was actually luggage. Or cargo. I wonder if they were loading a ship when that thing with all the teeth attacked.”
“I wonder where that opening leads. Are there even more cities like this one? Hmm, what’s this?” Dominic held up a smooth, black stone, carved in a strange, sinuous shape. It felt…hungry. He let it fall hastily and picked up another object, a chain with a pendant made of gold and something red, perhaps coral. That felt normal. “Probably just jewelry. Now this…is it a mat of some kind?”
It looked like a pile of thin, rectangular slats, woven together with thin gold wire. It looked very much like a section of railroad, if railroad were made of ivory. The slats had markings on them, on both sides.
“Some of these symbols…I remember seeing them on the walls! This must be their writing.”
“Then we should definitely take this. I wonder…”
Ardhuin came in with an armload of clothing. She was wearing the flowing blue silk robe that Kungam had given her, which shone in the lamplight like a dark gem. To the great relief of all the Aeropans, at any rate, the copious amounts of clean water had permitted washing and baths, somewhat improvised. Everyone was in a much better mood as a result.
“Stoller and the guides have come up with a solution for you,” she said. “They’ve emptied the biggest trunk and removed the lid. With some blankets for padding, you should be able to travel that way relatively well, I think. You could even sleep on the way.”
“If you don’t mind camels.” Markus rolled his eyes. “I understand their movement can take some getting used to from what Gutrune has said.”
Dominic exchanged a puzzled look with Ardhuin. What happened to “Fräulein von Kitren” then?
“Speaking of camels, what was that horrific noise yesterday? Were you skinning one of them with a spoon?”
Ardhuin laughed.
Markus grimaced. “The thought did cross my mind…no, we were trying to take the ungrateful beasts to the water, versus taking the water to them. They drink a lot, when they do drink. There was plenty of room in the passage for them, if they kept their heads down.” He had an aggrieved expression on his face. “Not one of our better ideas. The basta—beg pardon, the camels of uncertain parentage decided they would much rather bite us. Oh yes, they could lower their heads for that important task.”
Dominic chuckled. “I had not realized Stoller had such an impressive range of Preusan invective. He is usually quite taciturn, from my observation.”
Markus raised an eyebrow. “Considering where the camel was attempting to take a chunk out of him, he was rather calm about it.”
“So how did they water them?” Ardhuin asked.
“Relays of the horses, blindfolded. It took several trips, but we have enough and the water bags have been mended and filled. The plan is to leave at first light in the morning.”
“Do we know where we are?”
“Sonam says he thinks he sees familiar mountains, so we should be able to get back on track.”
Ardhuin turned toward the doorway, cocking her head a little to the side. “That sounds like Gutrune. She must have had luck hunting. While we still have plentiful water I want to make some broth for you.” She rose and left, the silk robe whispering about her bare feet.
Markus went to follow.
“Speaking of hunting,” Dominic remarked casually, “you appear remarkably cheerful of late. Am I to understand your…project has met with success?”
Markus glowered. “You need not sound so astonished.” Then he grinned. “I have reached—let us say, an understanding. My lady has given me an important task to accomplish before I can claim anything, but the most important question has been answered. I am very much in your debt.” It was said in his usual slightly mocking manner, but there was a thread of seriousness Dominic had not noticed previously.
“I don’t recall doing much…well, just remember that if your current good understanding fails, I wash my hands of the whole thing.”
Markus’s cheerfulness was unabated. “Pish. You would cheer her on and help her reload. Now, is there any more immediate service I can do for you?”
Prevented from assisting in the preparations for departure, Dominic tried to sleep as much as he could and in the intervals examined the artifacts Markus and later Ardhuin brought up for his inspection. The ancient inhabitants appeared to prefer coral and turquoise as precious stones and were capable of intricately detailed metalwork. He wondered what Bové’s reaction would be and how he was doing with his excavations. Perhaps he could identify the writing and the people who had lived here. Now that he had seen their city, apparently forgotten in time, Dominic felt a burning interest in finding out.
When he saw his new mode of transportation, he felt other, stronger emotions. Predominant among them was horror.
“Wait, shouldn’t the camel be standing?”
“What, and make you climb all that height in your weakened state? Besides, we don’t have a ladder.” Markus, who had helped move him to the main room with the animals and gear, one arm over his shoulder, kept a firm hold of his wrist and continued on. He was shaking with laughter, which only alarmed Dominic more.
“And all the rope—well, why not put the lid back on and shut me up inside, then?”
Gutrune held blankets and a filled canteen. “You will need to be secure, after all. These should make you more comfortable.”
Resigned to the inevitable, Dominic got in. He had to keep his knees bent, but he had to admit it was not too bad.
Until the camel got up.
The next three days were an unending but varied misery, only relieved by exhausted sleep—but to reach that merciful release he had to survive something worse than the camel getting to its feet, namely the camel lowering itself again. It was like being in his own slow, personal earthquake. He did not even notice how far they had come until he realized they were in low foothills instead of the flat plain, that tufts of green had become more common, and they were following a small stream.
The next morning, he woke to find their guides had gone, taking with them three camels. Beside him when he woke was a folded blue scarf, a carved soapstone cat curled in a ball, and a small silver hawkbell.
“Offerings to you, so they may cross again safely,” Sonam explained, smiling broadly. “They think you are a very powerful spirit–talker, both for how you found the old city and, well,” he shrugged, tilting his head at Ardhuin. “They want the ghosts to stay away on their return.”
“I didn’t see any ghosts, but then you wouldn’t let me go down to the cavern.” Dominic stood up stiffly—and then realized he had done so without stumbling. “Do you think they will try to go back to the old city and look around?”
Sonam shook his head sharply. “Without you and the lady? Never.”
Then perhaps it would remain secret long enough to be properly excavated. Dominic took a deep breath, enjoying the cooler air and admiring
the view. Though there was something about one section of the mountains…
“Which way is your home, Sonam?”
And Sonam pointed, exactly where he had been looking. Where magical brightness outlined the edges of a valley, enclosed by mountains like spires.
So much magic. Dominic shuddered. What were they heading for?
He could not complain. Denais rode in a succession of palanquins, horses, and litters while Korda followed on foot, in the dust. One of his shoes had developed an uncomfortable hole, and he did not have any replacements since the little space for extra luggage was only for Denais. Stinging insects and heat and the stench of dung and unwashed humans made Korda nauseous and miserable, but he could not complain. Denais still thought he was under his geas.
He could not complain or show the slightest indication of his true feelings, so Korda sought relief in planning Denais’s inevitable demise. Every humiliation, every ounce of suffering Korda had experienced, he intended to see inflicted on his tormentor tenfold. But to have his revenge, he must find a way to strike with no warning, with no possibility of Denais’s escape.
It slowly dawned on him that this horrible trip might provide a perfect opportunity. Only a handful of the bound Aeropan magicians accompanied him, who might stage a successful defense if Denais were attacked. Several men at the source of the magical salts were under Korda’s actual control. If he was careful, and watched for opportunities, his path to freedom might appear. He must be ready.
Korda considered and discarded plans as he trudged through the forested foothills that gradually changed to bare rock. As the air grew thin and dry Denais stopped more frequently, always with a servant instantly starting a spirit lamp so the master could enjoy his tea while they rested. Korda and the others were allowed one swallow each of dank water from a slimy leather waterbag. He supposed he was grateful that even Denais realized the geas compelled obedience only to the point that the body could comply. And if he killed his bearers with overwork, his lordship would be forced to walk.
Through the mountain passes Korda discovered a new torment, for the nights were brutally cold and none of them had warm clothing or blankets. He was forced to huddle with the native servants, another insult he added to his ever–growing list. During the sleepless nights he made plans and lists of what he would need to implement those plans. Chief among these was access to a supply of mineral essence. The supply would be there, since they were going to the source, but removing enough without alerting Denais or his personal guard would be much more difficult. Then there were the interlocking excuses for the missing deliveries, or rather the deliveries that Korda had redirected.
Another long, trudging day, but shorter than the others. Denais had decided to stop early in the twilight rather than tackle a long, steep trail to the height of a pass, for his own convenience, of course. Korda was sent to a small cluster of nearby huts for fodder and extra food since their supplies had proven inadequate.
As he approached the open door of one hut a fresh–faced young girl with a shy but radiant smile stepped out. In her hands was a silver bowl of the horrid half–rancid yak’s milk drink the local savages thought was a gesture of hospitality. She glanced at Korda and bowed her head but was clearly intending to go to the front of the pack train—and Denais.
Horror froze him motionless. Without thinking, Korda spread his hands before him, shaking his head. An old woman in the back of the hut glanced sharply at him, eyes narrowing. She spoke one word, and the girl stepped back inside looking disappointed. Korda watched the old woman take the welcoming bowl herself, cursing his sudden impulse of chivalry as fear knotted his stomach. Had any of Denais’s people seen him? And what did he care if some native chit was compelled to provide more hospitality than she ever intended, and prevented from telling anyone afterward what had happened to her? Except…except he hadn’t been able to stop the others. He’d only seen the aftermath.
She’s barely more than a child. Even a savage deserves better than that. Yet fear of detection made him violent and harsh in obtaining the supplies he had been ordered to find, and he sat up the entire night watching Denais’s tent, just in case. But what could he do, run? Without food or water?
Nothing happened that night, or the next few days. And then they were in the heart of the barren, rocky hellhole known as Bhuta, and the comparative paradise of Denais’s facility. At least there were structures to sleep in and more civilized food.
And utter chaos. True to their orders, workers were taking wooden wheelbarrows and wooden spades to the deep pits excavated at the base of the eroded cliffs—and coming to a complete halt at what turned out to be an extremely strong ward. They stayed there until the shift horn blew, and then they turned around again. The living ones, that is. There were several gaunt, skeletal bodies along the path.
Denais was absolutely furious. Korda, on the other hand, was terrified. What had happened to the mineral essence he was counting on for his plans? And if Denais began investigating closely, he might detect the modified geasi.
“Impossible! Who would dare…” Denais glared furiously at the barrier. “This is mage–level work. The natives are incapable of anything so sophisticated. But who would even know—that red–headed freak fancies herself a mage, but she only left Aerope…Korda. Find out when this barrier appeared and report back to me immediately.”
Korda bowed silently and walked away as quickly as he could. He wanted to know himself. Unfortunately most of the workers here were natives. Not only could they not speak any useful language, he doubted they understood calendars either. He finally found an Aeropan in the extraction facility, a large stone building with human–powered mills, dissolving vats, and extraction sprayers and dryers. All were carefully manufactured to avoid any iron. Korda looked carefully, but the machines were all idle and with no sign of recent use. He could smell the mineral essence, though. The faint sharp, sour scent reminded him how long it had been, and he found himself fingering the hidden pockets where his last remaining supply was hidden. If he could only find some here…he should have some power, just in case. It was dangerous now. But the hunger had awakened, and he found it harder to ignore.
After much prodding, the man finally answered. “At least seven months.” He looked gaunt and worn, his clothing tattered. When he gestured, his hands shook like an old man’s.
“Why didn’t you send word?” Korda asked as much for himself as for Denais.
The man blinked at him, uncomprehending. “I had no orders to send word.”
Korda’s information did not please Denais, who then had him bring others to him for questioning. Since he had not been ordered to leave after doing so, Korda stayed—and learned much. The geas compelled certain actions but not independent thought. Most of those present had been ordered to stay and extract the mineral essence. Even though they knew something was amiss, they could not leave to send a message. Those who had left to take shipments never returned, and no message had been sent with them because the barrier had not been raised then.
The other questions Denais asked made little sense. He kept asking about a red–headed woman, and then, to one of his guard, if the Cathan authorities had reported finding the magicians Denais had warned them of. The way he spoke made it seem that the two were the same, but that made no sense at all. Korda wondered, not for the first time, if Denais was completely sane. A woman magician?
Korda had learned a little of who Denais really was and why Baron Kreuzen had been attacked and killed. He wasn’t sure of the details, only that a group of powerful mages formed to combat the Gaulan forces in the Mage War survived in some form—or had, until Denais destroyed them. Now it seemed some had survived.
After a period of brooding, Denais issued a series of rapid orders. “Kohlmann. Take a fast horse and money sufficient to travel and return. You will stop at the nearest telegraph office in Ynde, send these messages in code, and wait for a reply. If there is no reply
within three days, return at full speed. You will take no more than ten minutes to eat or drink and may sleep only four hours per day while traveling. You must go as quickly as you can while understanding your primary duty is to send these messages and report back to me. Korda, assist him. He must leave within the hour.”
It took all of Korda’s self–control to leave. He needed to know what other orders Denais would give. Was he getting him out of the room deliberately? His pulse raced. And why wasn’t Denais taking down the barrier? He would likely use mineral essence to give him more power, and then Korda would know where it was hidden.
He followed Kohlmann in silence, obeying his reluctant commands. Kohlmann was not under his control, and he realized this could work to his advantage. Denais himself was sending one of his three guards away, and now the odds had changed in Korda’s favor. When Kohlmann left to get the money for his trip, Korda feverishly read the telegrams. Commands to agents in Aerope to discover if any Mage Guardian replacements had been made in Ostri, Preusa, or the Low Countries and if they had left the country after a certain date. Other commands to report any sightings of the Bretagnan group being watched for.
He hastily replaced the telegrams exactly as he had found them when he heard the sound of returning footsteps. Kohlmann was sweating, a sign he was attempting to fight the geas. Distracted, Kohlmann did not notice when Korda removed one of the pouches of coins from the saddlebags or when Korda cut a notch in the girth leathers. It would last for a while, but riding hard, it would eventually fail. Kohlmann would at best be delayed, and at worst killed in a fall. And even if he should arrive and send the messages, he would not have enough money to return as swiftly as he had gone. Korda would simply have to overthrow Denais before then, that’s all.
He saw Kohlmann off, grimly pleased that the daylight was already fading. Kohlmann would keep riding through the night in obedience to Denais’s commands, and all it would take was one stumble on the steep, rocky path. Now he was free to return to Denais. Should he use some mineral essence? The one thing he could not risk was Denais placing a working geas on him. He would need more power to prevent that. There were shadows, moving and he thought he could hear voices, whispering his name…
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