Turns out they did—and that the outside they led to was right by the stables where Monsieur Gravine kept his mules. Not that Marsh needed a mule, but she did need the gate leading out of the mansion’s grounds. Funny how the founder hadn’t thought to make this one an airlock like the main entrance.
It was something she’d point out to him when she got back. If she could find it from the inside, careful reconnaissance from the outside would reveal it, too, and given the forces they were facing, Monsieur Gravine should know that.
She waited until the stable yard was clear, then went quickly and quietly out the gate, sliding into the shadow of the wall and realizing she’d come out along a different part of the barricade. It didn’t matter. Leaning on the stone, Marsh looked for Mordanlenoowar. She blended a request to the shadows with a search for the blazing life force that marked the big kat like a beacon.
It didn’t take long for Marsh to find her. Mordan was lying patiently beneath a clump of callas not far from the main entrance, and Marsh tried to let her know where she was. This far away, she wasn’t even sure their minds could touch.
To her surprise, the big kat opened her eyes and slipped quietly away from the gates, disappearing into the shrooms and rocks without a sound. She appeared beside Marsh moments later, raising her muzzle and sniffing appreciatively at the hunk of bacon Marsh held in one hand.
“Yes, this is for you,” Marsh told her, giving the kat the meat and pulling the roll from the pouch she’d stuffed it in.
When they were both done eating, Marsh bent down and leaned her forehead against the hoshkat’s head.
“I need to find an enemy,” Marsh said, speaking aloud even as she gave the kat the impression of her need to find her foe’s lair and hunt her down inside it.
The kat lifted her lips in a silent snarl, taking the vague directions out of Marsh’s head, and turning toward the trail to Leon’s Deep.
“Not by the road, girl,” Marsh said. “Today we hunt alone.”
She caught a sense of puzzlement from the kat and pushed it aside. She had a very good reason why she was hunting without the rest of her pride. Yes, even for prey as deadly as this. Roeglin did not approve.
The kat hissed softly, her opinion of a male who did not care for the concerns of his mate quite clear.
“He’s not my mate,” Marsh protested. Mordanlenoowar flicked her tail, stalking into the shrooms.
Now, what was that all about?
The kat wasn’t stopping to answer questions, however, and Marsh hurried after her, giving up on using her feet normally to take to the shadows and move with a speed she couldn’t have in solid form. True to Marsh’s wishes, Mordanlenoowar didn’t take Marsh via the trade route. Instead, the big kat cut across country, stopping when they reached the edge of the open field of one of the small farms dotting the cavern.
Marsh joined her beneath the shelter of a cluster of callas, laying an arm over the big beast’s shoulders.
It is still, the kat thought, her azure eyes studying the farmhouse, and I smell no blood. No human life and no blood.
No human life? Apprehension formed a lump in the center of Marsh’s chest. No life, and no blood. Her heart sank, and she pushed carefully out of the callas. No life meant she shouldn’t encounter anyone or anything, but that wasn’t what she was afraid of. No...
Moving quickly and quietly to the rear door, Marsh wasn’t surprised to find it open, the signs of a struggle evident. There was overturned furniture and broken dishes as she moved through a kitchen and then into a dining room, where the table had been tipped on its side and a buffet shoved across a broken window.
Even knowing what she would find, Marsh climbed the stairs to investigate the bedrooms. They were empty, and it was more depressing being right than it would have been otherwise. She noted what had been left behind and what had been taken.
Nothing but people for the latter, and everything for the former, just like it had been at the prospector’s hut. Just like it had been at the truffle farm. Just…just like her parents’ place, and all the others in between. Grief formed a lump in her throat and tears blurred her eyes, and Marsh stopped, forcing herself to face reality.
People had been taken, and she had been unable to stop it. She drew a deep breath and let it out, her hand drifting to the hilt of her sword. Well, next time it would be different. Turning around, she hurried down the stairs and back out the door to where Mordanlenoowar was waiting.
Her thoughts of haste were accompanied by her own very human snarl, and the hoshkat responded with flattened ears and a snarl of her own. Marsh wasn’t the only one tired of losing people to the raiders. Reorienting themselves using the scent of their target, they crossed the empty yard behind the farmhouse and leapt into the shadows of the overgrown field beyond.
Mordan’s paws made no sound as she passed, although she flattened patches of shrooms. Marsh took to the dark, shedding her human shape and weight to move through the cavern’s shadows, at once at one with and yet completely separate from them.
They came across the next deserted farm less than an hour later. This time, Marsh took enough time to give it a cursory look before returning to where Mordan was pacing the yard. The big kat’s tail lashed as she snuffled the ground.
Not long gone, the big kat said, and Marsh got the impression that the raiders had struck while they were investigating the first farm.
It made Marsh wish she had a map of the cavern, and she realized she knew someone who did. Where was Roeglin? Hadn’t she been gone long enough for him to notice she was missing? Why couldn’t he be in her head when she needed him, not just when it was damned inconvenient?
It was like she’d summoned the man.
By the Deeps, I am going to kick your ass! You are the most undiscipl—
Marsh cut him off.
What’s the closest farm to this one?
There was silence, and Marsh hoped he hadn’t decided to ignore her.
Please, Ro, she thought. Please, please, please.
Why?
I need to get there before the raiders do.
By the Deeps, no.
To warn them. I need to warn them. If I can get there first, they might have a chance.
And you have Mordan with you.
It was like he was thinking out loud—and then the map was in her head. Marsh took to the shadows again, Roeglin’s voice no more than a flicker as she raced through the darkness, one with the shadows as she willed them to let her pass.
Be careful.
Marsh didn’t respond, all her attention was focused on reaching the farm and its people before the raiders did. She came close. From the looks of things when she got there, the raiders had only just arrived.
They’d arrayed themselves in the yard and one was standing at the door, his hand raised as though he’d been knocking. Marsh slid behind the cover of a fall of boulders and started working her way around to the back of the house. If she was quick, she might be able to slip inside and get them out before the raiders thought of checking.
Apparently, the farmer and his family had thought the same. They had just opened the back door and stepped through when the raiders rounded the sides of the house. This was clearly not the first time their prey had tried to escape the back way.
They leapt forward even as the farmer’s wife tried to herd her children back through the door, two raiders grabbing the husband and the oldest girl before they had a chance to avoid them. A little boy made a break for the rocks at the end of the yard, towing his brother with him, but one of the raiders ran him down. Another grabbed his brother and lifted them both, shrieking, from the ground.
Their father twisted against the hands that held him, shouting in outrage as he fought to get free, and Mordanlenoowar roared. This was exactly what had happened to her kits, only she had not been with them to fight for them as the male was trying to do, as the female was trying to do, as each cub was trying to do. She jumped into the fray, knocking one of the raiders
to the ground and snapping his neck with brutal efficiency.
Marsh looked toward the front of the house. Mordan’s roar had drawn the attention of the raiders trying to break through the front door, and several of them had turned to run down the side of the house, pulling swords and crossbows as they did so.
Don’t you da— was as far as Roeglin got, and Marsh had the impression he was moving fast in her direction.
Strange, since she didn’t think he’d learned to shadow-step like she had, and that was the only way she could think of that would let him move as fast as he seemed to be going. Well, good, because she was going to need some help.
Get them away, she thought, sending the idea along her connection to the kat.
There was no reply, but Marsh didn’t expect one. The kat was busy taking down raiders. If she took down enough of them, the farmer’s family might break free and escape on their own—and what a tale they’d have to tell. All Marsh had to do was stop the dozen or so men and women racing around the side of the house to intercept them.
That was all…
She stepped out from behind the rocks she’d been using as cover, shouting to draw their attention even as she pulled the shadows toward her.
“Hey, shit for brains! You missed one!”
They shouted something in reply, and a half-dozen of them broke away toward her. It wasn’t exactly what she’d hoped would happen, but it would do. Marsh spread her arms wide and then drew them in close to her chest, gathering the shadows as she did so. When she had them all together, she reversed the motion, thrusting the shadows away from her with her hands, and sending them in a wall over the raiders moving toward the back of the house. That they caught the ones moving toward her as well was an added bonus.
She watched as the shadows slammed into them, flattening men and women to the stony ground surrounding the house, the impact sending their weapons flying out of their hands. The shadow wall rolled past them and slammed into the other half-dozen making their way to the back.
Not one to waste the advantage, Marsh went after those closest her. None of them was getting up, not if she had anything to say about it. The first raider had pushed himself upright, and Marsh used a two-handed swing of her shadow blade to separate his head from his shoulders. The second one made it to her knees before Marsh plunged the sword through her heart. The third one blocked her strike.
Screams rose from the back of the house, as well as sharp, urgent cries to get into the rocks. Marsh only hoped the latter were from the farmer getting his wife and kids to safety. She knew the rest were Mordan’s work, but she didn’t have time to check. The raiders had picked themselves up and were heading in her direction.
All of them…with their swords drawn, and looking as pissed as any monster from the Deep.
Oh. Oops. Well, this was going to be interesting. Marsh couldn’t help grinning as she went to work. She was so deep in the brown stuff she probably wasn’t going to get out again, so she figured she might as well make it count. The raider who had blocked her strike counter-attacked, the steel of his blade glinting in the light of the shrooms. Marsh caught sight of it in time to block it with a hastily summoned buckler of shadow and she countered, but he parried. They broke apart, circling each other warily.
If Marsh had thought the raiders would form a civilized circle around them, she was wrong. This was a raid, not some gentleman’s duel, and they weren’t prepared to fight fair. She caught a flicker of movement from the side and brought her sword around in time to deflect the blow.
Her opponent laughed and darted forward, forcing her to use her shield and step back and away. Before she could work out why, something solid struck her across the back, slamming into her armor and sending pain through her. Marsh lost her grip on the sword just as a second solid blow hit her behind the knees, dropping her to the ground.
All she could do was try to roll out of the way of the next hit, and when that proved impossible, curl into a ball and watch what looked like half a log coming down toward her. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry when a long, dark shadow caught the raider in the side, making him drop the log as he fell. It still landed on her, but he did not.
Even with that raider out of the picture, Marsh didn’t dare uncurl. He hadn’t been the only one with a stick. The second raider switched targets, turning so Marsh was behind him as he sought another opponent. Another shadow speared out of the dark, taking him through the throat, and then a third, and a fourth. Marsh decided she’d lie right where she was.
Each spear found a raider, and the rest started running. It didn’t do them any good, though. More shadow spears cut the darkness, and they fell. Marsh slowly uncurled, looking for whoever had saved her. She was certain it hadn’t been Roeglin. Even moving at the speed he’d been going, he shouldn’t have arrived.
It was a relief to see Scout Clarinay materialize briefly from the shadows and shadow-step away toward the back of the house. She hoped he could catch the farmer and his family in time. They had to know there was a sanctuary for them. She slowly hauled herself to her feet, calling another blade out of the shadows as she did so—and glad it weighed nothing in her hand.
She hurt.
Trying to shove the pain aside, Marsh headed for the back of the house, coming around the corner to a scene of utter carnage. Mordanlenoowar had brought down every raider who had tried to harm the farmer, and then she’d started on the raiders coming around the other side of the house. Nothing moved, and Marsh continued to look for someone else to fight.
She found them at the stables. Two of the farmhands had bolted themselves inside, and several raiders were at the doors, trying to force their way in.
“Hey!” Marsh shouted, but her voice sounded weak in her ears, and the raiders laughed. One of them was shoved roughly in her direction as though she were an easy target.
Marsh lifted the shadow blade and gasped. The raiders might have a point. There might be only one of him, and he might not even know how to wield that blade he held so awkwardly, but he might still win.
“Merde,” she muttered, doing her best to ignore the spikes of pain shooting down her arms and back.
Need a hand?
Roeglin didn’t wait for an answer. He rode around from the front of the farmhouse, running his mule straight at the raider, who dove out of the way, before sliding from the animal’s back and racing toward the warriors attacking the door. Seeing him call a blade and buckler from the dark, Marchant didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
12
In Trouble Deep
Marsh watched as Roeglin charged the raiders by the door, glad she didn’t have to take on another one but not wanting to leave him to deal with them on his own. As she stepped toward the fight, she caught sight of movement at the other end of the barn. The raiders had a shadow mage!
Marsh turned on the spot, wishing she could alert Mordan to the mage standing at the back of the barn; the kat would take him down in no time. As it was, she could no longer feel her connection to the kat, and figured it was because she was tired from racing across the caverns and battling with the raiders.
At least Mordan had saved the farmers.
As she straightened up, Marsh saw the mage making broad strokes through the air with his hands. From this distance, it looked like he was drawing a door against the shadows.
Oh, by the Deeps, no, he wasn’t!
With a shout, she pulled a sword from the shadows and charged. She would not—could not—let him open a gateway to the shadow monsters. There had been enough destruction, and while most of it had been caused by her and the hoshkat, she was not going to let the shadow monsters add to it. She was not going to have those beasts loose in the cavern.
As she raced forward, she felt the ground vibrating under her feet and heard the thunder of hoof beats behind her, but she did not stop. She shouted again, and the mage looked in her direction. His hands did not stop moving until his eyes looked past her and widened in fear, and then they moved
faster, but it was too late.
Marsh thought of shadow and thought of speed and was at his side in seconds, startled shouts rising behind her. The first glimmer of the gate’s outline appeared, mapping itself over what she could see of the cavern beyond. With a scream of frustration, Marsh twisted, putting the full force of her body behind the blow and trying to slice her way through the mage before he could finish his work.
As she did, she hoped the outline would fade; that the mage hadn’t already asked the shadows to part. She also hoped that the shadows needed more than just the outline to open the way between the Ruins Hall cavern and wherever in the Deeps the monsters dwelt. Pain flared across her shoulders and she screamed in defiance, her cry matching the agony in the shadow mage’s voice.
Behind her, the hoofbeats slid to a stop and someone landed heavily, before moving toward her.
“Marchant!”
She knew that voice but couldn’t think of any reason why the cavern founder would pay her the slightest bit of attention, although he did sound angry. Marsh pulled her blade out of the shadow mage, relieved when he collapsed to the floor and the gate’s outlines slowly faded. What was it her uncle had said?
Better to ask forgiveness than—she struggled to bring the saying into focus—permission. From the sound of Monsieur Gravine’s voice, forgiveness might be needed. She turned, intending to ask, completely forgetting the blade in her hand.
A startled shout greeted her, and someone slammed into her from the side.
“Merde.”
The landing drove the wind from her lungs and momentarily knocked all thought from her head. The shadow blade disappeared, but the weight of the guard pinning her to the ground did not.
“What in all the Deeps are you doing?” Marsh managed as Monsieur Gravine spoke.
“Let her up.”
“You heard the man,” Marsh said when the guard’s weight did not shift.
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