Enemy Known

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Enemy Known Page 52

by Butler, J. M.


  Amelia stiffened. She bit the inside of her lip, trying to maintain appearances as she fought to free herself from the ropes. What was he getting?

  Naatos returned a few minutes later with more rope. WroOth and AaQar had previously bound her with sashes, tying them only tight enough to restrain her. She probably would have gotten out after a while longer. But Naatos tied the rope around each wrist individually, leaving loops and then knotting the loops together with a separate strand. He then fastened the central rope to the table, tied another section around her waist, and fastened it to the wall behind the couch, looping it through one of the torch brackets. He tightened it sharply and secured it to the floor. Then he picked up a large chest and placed it on the table.

  He came around to face her and grabbed her by the chin. "If by some miracle you do get out of this, you will remain in these chambers. Leave them, and I will sever the tendons of your foot and I will not heal you until you have learned that you do not defy me."

  Amelia lifted her head, trying to pull free. "I won't forget this."

  "Good. Neither will I. I'll just be taking one more precaution."

  With that, Naatos stood and left the chambers. A loud grating sounded. Thick stone shutters rolled up over the windows and, from the sounds of it, the doors as well.

  She was trapped.

  55

  Battle for the Temple

  "Here they are." Irasso motioned for Shon and Matthu to dismount. They had reached the last set of hills before the valley and the flatlands where the five mountains of the temple rose up. Shon jumped down from his bruin and began searching along the ground.

  A loud horn blast sounded. Battle cries broke the silence.

  Matthu ran to the top of the hill. "They're already there!" he shouted back. "And the Tue-Rah's down! The red flag is up. They've taken the Tue-Rah down!"

  Shon ran up alongside him. The red flags at the top were the sign that they had agreed upon. And if Amelia had been found, there would be a white one. If the brothers had been dealt with, a blue one. But only the red flag fluttered in the wind. Presumably that meant the brothers were still in Ecekom. If they were still in the temple but not yet dealt with, a green flag should have been flying.

  "Wait!" Matthu clapped his hand to his head. "Look, there's the green flag. It fell! It's stuck on that ledge there. The Paras are still in the temple!"

  As if on cue, a dragon roar sounded. Smoke belched from the windows of the third floor. A thin yellow dragon shot from the window and up into the air. It left a long stream of blackened smoke behind it before it spiraled up into the air and shifted into an enormous red dragon.

  WroOth turned about in the sky and then plunged down, bowling through a dozen of the warriors as they crowded into the temple. Talbokians poured out of the other entrances. WroOth knocked over just as many of them as he crashed through and sailed back up into the sky.

  "Come on, you two!" Irasso shouted. His slender arms strained under the weight as he lifted a stone door hidden beneath the ground. Shon hurried down to help him. Clumps of dirt and grass fell around them.

  Matthu ran over to help as well. "Only two sets of lightning," he muttered.

  "It'll have to do." Irasso wiped the sweat from his forehead. The mud streaked along his face, mixing with the natural dark stripes of his skin. "Besides, your Ayamin and friends have the rest. They'll have more need of them than us given the shapeshifters' focus."

  WroOth roared again. He blasted fire along the edges, shaking his head back and forth.

  "Come on." Shon motioned toward the yawning hole in the ground. "We've got to get Amelia and make sure that the Tue-Rah stays secured. As much trouble as one dragon is, imagine how horrible thousands are going to be."

  "Exactly." Irasso grabbed his pack from off his bruin. "The brothers follow a similar structure most of the time. WroOth draws the attention. AaQar maneuvers. And Naatos…well, Naatos finishes the fight, but the hardest part is determining where he will focus." He shouldered the bag and muttered under his breath, "At least it's hard most of the time."

  Shon suspected he knew what Irasso meant. If Naatos knew he was here, Naatos would come after him. But more than likely Naatos would assume that the sveti had finished him off. Shon picked up his bag and Matthu followed his example. Then they slipped inside the secret way.

  The passages were tight and covered with the same phosphorous fungi as in Polfradon. Shon could not even walk straight ahead; it was too snug. He had to turn to the side and slide step by step. Matthu, who was somewhat broader in the shoulders, struggled even more. Only Irasso walked without difficulty.

  "What're the chances that there's anything alive down here?" Matthu asked.

  "Naatos wouldn't have known about these. So nothing more than the usual spiders, snakes, and occasional mole." Irasso adjusted the straps on his quiver. "Shouldn't be anything bigger than your fist."

  How ridiculous that those descriptions would bring him comfort. Shon shook his head as he ducked and moved deeper into the hidden passage.

  The air was close and already hot. Shon wanted to run, to get into the temple, and find Amelia. It had taken enough time for the herbal concoction Irasso had made to get him back on his feet. Now wasted time meant wasted lives. If he rescued Amelia, then he could join the rest of the battle and take the Paras captive so Amelia could figure out a way to kill them.

  Neither Shon nor Matthu nor Irasso spoke as they continued. The heaviness of the air suffocated Shon. The passage seemed to go on forever. He tugged at his collar and swallowed hard. The subtle red light made it all seem so much tighter and narrower. At times, the roof of the passage brushed against the top of his head, and other times he had to duck down even tighter. Those moments, walking with his head ducked and his chin to his chest, were the worst. His heart thudded and his head pounded, longing for a blast of fresh air. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck and soaked under his tunic. Sometimes he heard the occasional distant roar. Once or twice the ground shook. Trickles of dirt and silt trailed down.

  "Stop here." Irasso at last held up his hand. Even he sounded almost breathless. He wiped his forehead, tapped his fingers against the wall to his left, and gave it a sharp heave. A door opened.

  Fresh air flooded in. Stepping out into the high-ceilinged stone hall, Shon gulped it in. Thank Elonumato the hall was empty.

  Matthu gasped in the cool air as well, thrusting his sweaty hair back. He held his javelin low to the ground. "That was a lot harder than I thought," he whispered.

  Shon nodded. He removed one of the copies of the maps Amelia had sent them. The Tue-Rah had already been secured, and given what it meant to the invaders, the fiercest battle would take place there. Shon knew that if Amelia was here, she would probably be in the family chambers.

  "AaQar will be trying to reach the Tue-Rah, and Naatos will probably be there until he finds another target." Shon turned the map and then checked the bag. "Matthu, you and Irasso need to go and assist the Ayamin in reaching the Tue-Rah. No one can make it through to Ecekom, and, if any other Vawtrians get through, we are in dire trouble."

  "Sure, leave you alone so you can get yourself killed," Matthu said.

  "You won't be able to get into the family chambers, Shon," Irasso said. "The attack has already started. WroOth was, ironically, paranoid for the safety of his family. It was unfortunate that their attackers did not attempt to take them from the home. The family chambers enclose in the event the family is threatened. So you see, the brothers are the only ones who will know the combination or have the key for opening it, and they would not be fighting if she was not secured." Another roar and crash sounded. Irasso's fingers worked over his blowgun. "The Paras are getting angrier."

  Shon nodded, though reluctant. It was true. His rescuing Amelia would be impossible and short-lived if the Paras were still wreaking havoc.

  * * *

  Amelia tugged on the ropes. The knots did not give, and there was precious little slack. The couch didn't
even have any hard edges. She writhed about, struggling to put down the flood of emotions and free herself. She closed her eyes, trying not to think about what was happening out there.

  The room was dim, lit only by the low-burning torches. Her hands and back still stung though they were healed. A dish crashed to the floor in the next room.

  The puma!

  Amelia lifted her head. "Here, kitty!" she called. It didn't seem entirely appropriate to refer to a puma this way, but what else was she to call it? Cat sounded less friendly. "Here, kitty, kitty. Come on, kitty."

  Soft footfalls came down the hall. The puma poked his head in, his ears pricked up. "Come on." Amelia used the tone she'd used so many times to coax frightened cats out from under the couch or the examining bench. "Come on, kitty."

  The puma purred as he walked alongside her and rubbed his cheek against the rope.

  Amelia looked at his teeth and his claws. They were certainly sharp, but the problem was how close the ropes were to her body. Did the puma have enough finesse not to accidentally nick her?

  Leaning down, she rubbed her chin against its head. "Good boy," she whispered. "Oh, who is a good kitty? You're a wonderful puma. Can you bite through these ropes? Bite through the ropes. Bite through the ropes." She focused on the puma intently, repeating the phrase over and over again.

  The puma cocked his head then bit into the ropes, his breath smelling like old boar meat. He chewed, his upper lip curled, first using it like floss and then biting at it like a cat toy.

  "Good boy! Good boy!" Amelia praised the puma. This was working.

  After a few minutes, the puma chewed through the rope binding her to the table, leaving the ends wet and ragged. Amelia spread her wrists as far apart within the ropes as she could and coaxed the puma to chew through those. Alternating between rubbing his head on her hands and biting into the ropes, the puma did as she instructed, only nipping her a couple times.

  "Good boy!" Amelia kissed him on the head. "Oh, you're so amazing!" She shook the ropes from her wrists and then began untying the others. It was a tricky matter to get some of the knots untied. Naatos had been thorough, and the puma kept butting in to be petted, but she soon freed herself.

  The ropes fell into a pile at her feet. Relieved, Amelia rose and stretched her arms above her head. The blood flowed back through her veins. "Give me strength, Elonumato," she said. She massaged her forearms. There was no place for the guilt and no time to go through what had happened. Who knew if she had any time left?

  She walked to the bookcase and opened the drawer. Her gun was inside along with the bullets. She fashioned a crude holster, loaded the gun, put the extra bullets in a small pouch, and hung it at her side. She then rummaged through Naatos's room to find additional weapons including a boot dagger and a few other small knives and sheaths. Moving on, she grabbed the bandages and her gloves in case she needed them. They looped easily into her waistband.

  Her heart beat faster. Naatos would follow through on his threat, but she at least had to try to stop him and save her people and Shon.

  The door was sealed shut on the outside as she suspected while the door itself remained unlocked. The seal was a mass of solid stone which covered the entrance, which might prove problematic.

  Pursing her lips, Amelia examined the door. She had to find a chair to search along the upper portion, but it was near the top that she found the keyhole.

  "Yes!" She smacked her hand against the door. She laughed and looked down at the puma. "I haven't found a lock I couldn't pick yet."

  She hopped down from the chair and ran to the kitchen side door in the hall. Rummaging through the drawers, she cast aside the tongs, forks, spoons, and mashers until she came across steel skewers. Hurrying back, she climbed up the chair and fiddled with the lock.

  The skewers grated within the lock. Amelia twisted it around, inserting the second skewer to create the counter effect. Tine by tine, they clicked into place. The pressure increased with each tumbler turned. Amelia braced herself against the wall, fighting on the last one. She gritted her teeth. "Come on."

  The stones fell back with a resounding thud. Dust rose, poofing into the air. The sunlight made the motes sparkle like gold. Dragon roars and the sounds of battle poured in. The air smelled of blood and fire.

  Amelia unsheathed her gun and ran out into the hall. She just had to hope that she wasn't too late to make a difference.

  * * *

  If the first group of Machat had succeeded in their task, most of the Talbokians would be locked up in the lower chambers and in the other mountains until the Ayamin could deal with them in manageable chunks. Even so, Shon, Matthu, and Irasso checked each hall before entering.

  Dragon roars continued to punctuate the increasing chaos. The tapestries provided clear reference markers. When they passed the hall with the battling gryphon and dragon tapestry, Shon knew they were nearing the Hall of Creation.

  They ran to the end of the platform and looked over the edge. Down below, one of the walls to the Hall of Creation had been broken down. A forty-foot frilled serpent attacked from the center of the hall. Dagger-thick spines shot out along the frills about his neck. He lashed out, snapping at Ayamin and Machat. Someone lobbed one of the black jars at him, but he dodged it, spiraling up one of the columns. The jar exploded against the wall. Lightning cracked up the side.

  "Hold the doors!" someone shouted.

  Another black jar flew through the air. The creature hissed and ducked again. He shot through the air, spiraled around another column, then lunged down, crushing several warriors at once. The Talbokians fought at the sides, cutting down Ayamin and Machat from both directions.

  "As long as he can see it coming, he's going to dodge it," Shon said. He paused, catching sight of the windows on the higher level. "Let's get to a higher level. I can hit him from there."

  Irasso sprang to the outer window and looked out. "WroOth's butchering them out there," he said, his voice tense. “Not many of them have any jars left from the looks of it."

  Matthu pulled one of the jars free. "I can get to the top of the mountain and hit him from there. Same premise. You can cover me."

  "No. You handle that one." Shon pointed toward AaQar. You've got more force in your arm from the javelin, and I'm better at distance. I'll deal with WroOth."

  "I'll cover you," Irasso said.

  Matthu hesitated, and Shon gave him a shove. "I'll be fine. Now go. Be an Ayamin. Do your duty."

  "I'll protect your brother, Matthu." Irasso pointed down at the hall. "Your fellow Ayamin need you more than him."

  The corners of Matthu's mouth turned down, and his brow furrowed. Another dragon roared, and pained shouts broke the air. He tapped his fist to his chest. "You better not die." Turning, he ran and disappeared around the corner.

  "You should carry the lightning potion and have it ready, not the razor bow," Irasso said, reaching for his satchel.

  "No. You keep it. You're a faster runner. You can get to a better vantage point. Once I'm in secure position, I'll use it. Your blowgun isn't superior to my razor bow. Now come on. There's a separate staircase that will take us straight up if we cut across here." He thrust the map back into his bag, drew one of his arrows, and ran ahead.

  "Shon," Irasso called after him. He quickened his pace to keep up. "You need to have this on you."

  Shon motioned for him to be silent but did not stop. His nerves remained on edge, warning him to be cautious. Something didn't feel right. He broke pace, uncertain what had triggered this response. Irasso slowed as well.

  Shon kept the arrow on the bowstring. In close combat, he preferred his sword, but the large expanses within this temple made distance weapons a better choice. Only ranged weapons could touch them at this point.

  Suddenly a spear sliced through the air. It pinned Irasso to the wall, killing him immediately. His bag fell to the ground.

  Shon spun around, bringing his razor bow up. He shot at once.

  Naatos dodged the
arrow easily. "Well none of that will help you."

  56

  Shon Against Naatos

  Shon seized another arrow at once, setting it to his bowstring. But he did not shoot again.

  Naatos had no visible weapon in hand. His spear was embedded in Irasso. The only other weapon Shon could make out was the hunting knife at Naatos's side. Which would have been a little comforting if it weren't

  Shon kept the bowstring taut. "I would have thought you'd have been a better shot since I'm clearly the one you want dead."

  If he shot Naatos in the leg, he might have enough time to go for Irasso's fallen bag and shoot Naatos with the lightning potion, but with Naatos being quick enough to dodge arrows, that complicated matters.

  Naatos strolled forward. "I wasn't aiming for you."

  Shon lifted his bow. The bowstring creaked. "Stay away from Irasso."

  "He's dead. Or are you afraid of my retrieving my spear?" Naatos chuckled coldly. "Don't worry, Shon. I wouldn't kill you with my spear. At least not right away. That's far too quick. Much too painless. You must suffer before you die. And whether I retrieve my spear or not, you still wouldn't be able to stop me, as you've seen. But please feel free to continue pointing that at me. It will buy you nothing but more wrath."

  Shon stepped farther away. "Fine. Take your spear back." If he didn't draw attention to it, maybe Naatos would move away from the jar and he could seize it.

  Naatos grabbed hold of the spear and jerked it free. Irasso's body slumped to the ground. His eyes remained on Shon. "If it weren't for that cursed Machat's interference, Amelia wouldn't have even given you a second glance," he said. Still not looking at the spear, he ran his hand along the runes and drew in the tri-pointed blade at the top, shifting it to a multi-pronged fan blade.

  "I doubt that. Falling in love with someone's soul isn't something that can be forced," Shon said. He lowered the bow but kept his grip steady. "Besides, you aren't going to kill me."

 

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