The group had walked halfway to the lift when a soft clink-clank-clink-clank sound came from behind them. It reminded Ridge of the drawbridge being raised back in the king’s castle. Or of a clockwork machine being wound up. He and his pilots spun in the direction of the noise, their rifles ready. Sardelle and Tolemek faced in that direction, too, though they didn’t reach for weapons, as if they knew that whatever they might face wouldn’t be harmed by mere bullets.
Nothing back there was moving, save for the floating lamps that drifted lazily on currents of air, but the mechanical noises continued. Then Ridge spotted something that had changed: the eyes on the statues were open. And they were glowing red.
“You still not sensing any magic, Sardelle?” Ridge pointed to the eyes.
“Not magic, in the traditional sense, but there is dragon blood in those statues.”
“You didn’t think that was important to mention before?” He regretted the sarcasm immediately, but there was no time for apologies. “Back up, everyone. Keep heading to the lift. Let’s see if we can get out of here before we get a demonstration of what those things can do.”
“Yes, sir.”
He hardly needed to give the order—no one was charging down the room to engage those things. Half of the team turned and ran for the lift doors. Ridge backed away more slowly, watching those statues. What had Apex said? Ambulatory? They looked too top-heavy to move, but he wasn’t willing to make a bet against that.
The tone of the clink-clanks shifted, as if smaller gears were moving than had been before, and the left arms on both of the statues began to rise. The next step before the metal contraptions started walking?
“The doors are locked again,” Duck said, reaching the lift first.
“Tolemek?” Ridge prompted.
“If it is indeed a lift, burning through the doors may render it inoperable.”
“Sardelle?”
The arms of the statues had risen to roughly forty-five degree angles and stopped. Ridge didn’t like the way they seemed to be pointing at his team. If something crazy happened, they could still escape through the front doors, but they would have to run a hundred meters to reach them.
“It’s a lift system, yes,” Sardelle said. “I can sense that there’s a vertical shaft behind the doors. There’s not a cage or cabin or anything on the other side, though. It might be at the top.”
Ridge had been prompting her to open the doors, but that information was valuable too. “Then burning a hole shouldn’t make a difference, eh? While Tolemek does that, someone see if there are any levers around to call the lift down to our level. I’m going to be—”
Without warning, a thik-thunk came from the other side of the room, and something flew from the tip of one of those arms. Ridge jumped to the side, though it was more luck than skill that kept him from being skewered. Something clacked into the marble floor beside him with enough force to crack the tile and leave a hole. It ricocheted off, landing with a ping somewhere else in the room.
“—dodging for my life,” he finished with a grimace.
Ridge looked around, but he had already studied the room with defenses in mind, and he knew there was no place to hide, no cover to be taken. The firing noise came again, and Ridge dodged to the side again, as he might in a firefight in the sky, but he was just guessing that he was a target.
This time, the projectile thudded into something behind him. He glanced back, his heart jumping into his throat. If it had hit Sardelle or one of his men…
But the weapon was stuck in the lift door—it had ripped into the outer metal layer and was sticking out, still quivering. A knife? No, it had several points. A large version of a Cofah throwing star, but it was more like a saw blade at this size.
“Hurry, hurry,” Duck whispered.
“I’m going to second that.” Ridge raised his rifle to aim at the head of one of the statues, but he was reluctant to shoot and make noise. The statues weren’t that loud by themselves, but someone was bound to hear gunfire and wake up to check on intruders.
Sardelle stepped up beside Ridge, her sword out now. Out and glowing.
“Jaxi and I will protect the group from fire,” she said.
The thik-thunk came again. Despite her words, Ridge’s instincts were to throw himself to the ground to make a smaller target.
The throwing star hurtled out of the shadows toward them, but burst into fire ten feet away. Ridge swallowed. That had been an accurate throw. It might have cleaved one of them in half.
“How’re those doors coming, Tolemek?” Ridge asked, wishing he didn’t feel so useless. He fingered the trigger of his rifle. Would a bullet even do anything against a metal statue? Maybe if one shot at the holes from which the stars were being ejected. From this far across the chamber, that would be a job for Ahn.
“I’ve applied the dissolving goo.”
“It’s smoking,” Duck added helpfully.
“No sign of a lever,” Apex added, less helpfully.
Ridge started to ask Sardelle if she could call the lift down from whatever level it was on, but the statues shot again. She was busy. He hated relying on her for everything anyway. He dropped his rucksack and pulled out a coil of rope. Maybe there would be something inside the shaft they could anchor it to so they could climb up to the next level, or at least out of reach of the statues.
A creak and a groan came on the heels of the next round of projectiles. The arms weren’t moving this time; it was the legs. A shudder ran through the floor with the statues’ first ponderous steps.
“I appreciate you and Jaxi keeping us from being shot,” Ridge said. “Are you going to be able to keep us from being crushed by ten tons of metal too?”
The doubtful expression on her face said a lot. Nothing he wanted to hear.
“Ahn and anyone else who’s not helping with the doors, come up here,” Ridge said, raising his rifle again. “Stealth probably became useless as soon as we knocked open their front door. Time to see if we can find a vulnerable spot on those statues.”
“You’ll have to stand over there to do so.” Sardelle pointed to the side. “I have a barrier up in front of the doors and the group, and your bullets would be bounced back at us.”
“Good to know before we start shooting.” Ridge and Ahn stepped to the spot where she had indicated, and she gave him a nod.
“I assume we’re in danger here too?” Ahn asked.
“I’ll keep my eye on you, but you might want to lunge back over here before they shoot each round.”
“Understood.” Ridge fired his first shot, aiming at one of the red eyes. Those things were eerie.
But the statues were still a hundred meters away, their heads obscured by the shadows above the lamps. His bullet clanged into the nose hole instead. A few clangs sounded—the shell bouncing around inside its head? Well, maybe that would do some damage too.
Ahn must have guessed his original target, for she aimed in the same direction. Her bullet took the statue in the right eye. The red glow blinked a couple of times, but then returned to a steady crimson light.
“Guess the eyes aren’t the most vulnerable part of a statue.” Ridge thought about firing at the monster’s crotch, more out of spite than because he believed that would be a vulnerable spot, but that seemed a touch immature. Besides, he was busy jumping back into Sardelle’s sphere of protection, for the statues were firing again. Firing and walking. As slow and ponderous as those steps were, the monsters were drawing ever closer.
A soft metal clang sounded behind him.
“I’ve made a hole,” Tolemek said.
“Duck, take my spot,” Ridge said and joined Tolemek at the lift door, bringing his coil of rope. It was probably foolish to think there would be anything up there he could hook it on, but it was worth a look. He had a collapsible grappling hook in his pack too.
“We’re on the ground floor,” Tolemek said, pulling his head out of the still smoking hole. Amazingly, his shaggy ropes of hair didn’t cat
ch fire in the process. “I can’t tell how high up the shaft goes. It’s dark. There’s not a ladder or anything on the wall to climb; I could tell that much.”
“I don’t think lighting lift shafts is a priority in many places.” Ridge ignored the shots firing behind him, even though the blazes that occurred when Sardelle stopped a throwing star were bright and spectacular, and eyeballed some of the nearest floating lanterns. Some of them weren’t that high up there. He made a quick lasso with the rope and gave himself room to throw. “Sardelle is busy at the moment, but she floated that Cofah observer out of the balloon. Maybe she can float us up too. Or call down the lift.” That would probably be less taxing for her.
“Except that we might not be able to spare her out there.” Tolemek nodded his head. “Those statues are going to be here soon. We might have to abandon this and run back to the front door.”
Ridge set his jaw. Retreating was better than dying, but if they ran out, they might not get another opportunity to slip in. He was surprised nobody had come down to check on them as it was. Or maybe the Cofah knew they had guests but trusted their statues to handle it.
Ridge caught the lamp he was aiming for, though it took a delicate touch to guide it down to them. The thin paper lanterns were lightweight. He handed it to Tolemek. “Add some more oil and see if you can get it hot enough to float up the shaft. I’ll try to get another one.”
“Your aim is surprisingly good. Did you rope cattle before becoming a pilot?”
Ridge squinted at him, not sure if that was a compliment or the setup for a joke where he was the butt. “There’s a pub in town where you can rope mechanical rabbits that run back and forth on a clockwork track. If you get five in a row, you get a free beer. Naturally, I’m well-practiced.”
He tossed his lasso again and brought down another light. The floor was shivering more than ever now as the statues closed the distance. Another twenty steps and they would be upon the group. Sardelle, Duck, and Ahn would have to back up soon. If Ridge thought simply climbing through the hole Tolemek had made would save them, he would order it, but what happened if someone above chose that moment to send the lift down? And what happened if the statues could simply smash through the door with those colossal legs?
Ridge handed the second lantern to Tolemek, then stuck his head through. The first was already inside, lighting the shaft as it rose. The smooth walls didn’t offer any hooks, nor were there more doors for more than fifty feet—of course, with the high ceiling of this chamber there wouldn’t be. Climbing up there would be impossible, and his rope wouldn’t reach anything useful. He did see the bottom of what appeared to be a lift cage, though.
“Sardelle, want to see if you can bring this down?” Ridge asked, leaning out and grabbing his rifle again. The statues were so close that they towered over the group now, their heads nearly brushing the ceiling, rice paper lamps bouncing off their chests. “Ahn and I will try to distract the statues.”
“We will?” Ahn asked.
“Just like dodging cannonballs in your flier.”
Ridge took a step toward her, but a quake ran through the floor. At first, he assumed it was just another reverberation caused by the colossal statues’ steps, but the seam in the tiles under his feet parted, then dropped open.
Ridge twisted and tried to grab at the lift doors, but he was too far away. The space that opened up in the tiles was too large. It was a door of some kind, a trap door. And he had been standing in the wrong spot. He fell into darkness and could do nothing except cry out Sardelle’s name as he plummeted. He wasn’t sure if it was a call for help or a protest that they were being parted, but it was the last thing he got out before the darkness consumed him.
Chapter 13
“Ridge!” Sardelle cried, her concentration lapsing. She hadn’t been looking toward the lift when the trapdoor opened, and she hadn’t seen the men fall, but Ridge, Apex, and Tolemek were gone, swallowed by a black pit.
“Sardelle,” Ahn snapped. “Watch the—”
Sardelle was yanked to the side. One of the huge throwing stars screamed past her ear, slamming into the floor and chipping marble.
“Sorry, yes, thanks,” she blurted, yanking back her focus, forcing herself to wait until they were out of danger to worry about Ridge. Even if she wanted to scream and jump into that hole after him. Which might not be a bad idea if it meant escaping from these behemoths. Figure out how to melt whatever’s making them move and shoot yet, Jaxi?
Working on it. Machines aren’t my forte, you know. Jaxi sounded tense and defensive, a rarity for her. That did nothing to soothe Sardelle’s nerves as she reestablished the barrier that would protect the team from the projectiles. Not “the team.” Just her, Ahn, and Duck.
Clang!
The trapdoor had reset itself. The hole was gone. Ridge was gone.
Sardelle struggled to keep the bleakness from overwhelming her, stealing her already flagging energy. “Duck, over here. You’re not within my sphere of protection.”
“We should retreat to the front door,” Duck said, running over to join Sardelle and Ahn. “Think about how to destroy them from out there.”
“Assuming they don’t follow,” Ahn said. “Those doors are big. Can the statues bend over? We might be better ducking into the elevator shaft. Sardelle, you floated that Cofah observer out of the tree. Can you float us up to another floor?”
After defending them from the statues, Sardelle didn’t feel up to floating a pencil onto a table. “Maybe. But not while I’m protecting us from them. Give me a second. Jaxi is trying to figure out what operates them so we can melt it. She already tried to destroy the dragon blood inside, but it’s not easy to burn, vaporize, or otherwise demolish. The metal hull is so thick that we weren’t able to melt it, either.”
I could eventually, Jaxi put in. With a sustained burn. But they’re not giving us much time.
Indeed—as Jaxi was speaking, Sardelle had to jump to the side to avoid a giant stomping foot. The metal monstrosities had long since reached the lift and were doing their best to crush her and the others. Her defensive barrier might be able to stop bullets, but she wasn’t ready to try standing beneath a ten-ton foot to see if the statue would bounce off. Her people hadn’t been able to keep a mountain from crushing them, after all; there was a limit to what sorcery could accomplish. She had already tried without success to knock the statues over.
“Is it my imagination,” Duck asked, “or is it trying to herd us toward the lift—toward that trapdoor in the floor?”
“It’s herding us,” Sardelle said.
“Any chance that wouldn’t be a death sentence? Can you tell if the colonel is still alive?” Duck had a desperate look in his eyes. He probably had no idea what a sorceress could do and was simply hoping she had answers.
“I…” Sardelle stretched out with her senses, trying to locate Ridge. “No,” she said, a feeling of bewilderment coming over her. Had he fallen so far and so fast that he was already out of her range? Jaxi? Do you know what happened to Ridge?
No, and I’m busy with your other assignment, right now.
But can you at least check? Do you sense him out there at all?
Jaxi was silent. Sardelle and the others danced away from more stomping feet. Ahn stepped out from behind the barrier and fired a couple more rounds at the statues. Her aim was accurate, but none of the bullets caused the machine to falter or slow in any way.
“You can’t vaporize the blood, right?” Ahn asked. “But couldn’t you vaporize the glass?”
“What?” Sardelle asked, barely hearing her, distressed by her inability to feel Ridge out there. Jaxi? Are you busy, or…?
I don’t sense him, Sardelle. Or the others. I’m sorry.
Because they’ve fallen out of range? She couldn’t see how that could happen. Jaxi could sense twenty or thirty miles, at least.
I don’t think so.
The only other explanation was that they were dead. No, Sardelle couldn’t accept that
.
“If the blood is on some controller board, the way it was in those unmanned fliers, couldn’t you just burn the board? Or the glass bubble holding it on there?” Ahn asked.
Oh. Maybe… yes, let me try.
Sardelle, still numb with the implication of Jaxi’s previous words, didn’t respond. She barely managed to keep her shield up when another throwing star spun down at them. How much ammunition could these stupid machines have, anyway? A surge of rage filled her, and she longed to run over and chop at one of those lumbering legs, as if it were some tree she could hew down.
She paused at the thought. Maybe it was something Jaxi could cut through. Sardelle had been too distracted by protecting the group to try—and maybe intimidated by the size too—but a soulblade could cut through things a mundane sword couldn’t.
Gripping the weapon in both hands, she was about to lunge forward when the leg she was glowering at stopped moving. Sardelle tilted her head back as far as she could, trying to see the glowing eyes, but the statue towered so near that she couldn’t see past its blocky torso. It had definitely stopped moving, though. Not just the leg, but the rest of the body as well. The arms drooped, and nothing new was fired from them.
The second statue, a dozen meters to the side, had stopped as well.
Someone should have suggested that earlier, Jaxi thought, her voice small, barely a presence in Sardelle’s mind. Like when they first started moving. It could have saved… much.
Sorry. I should have thought of that myself. “Good thinking, Ahn,” she made herself say, though it felt like there was a weight sitting on her chest. Talking hurt. So did everything.
The Dragon Blood Collection, Books 1-3 Page 72