“Stop dawdling and get moving!” Kasnar scolded him, snapping him out of his reverie. “We’d better get to the palace before they do. Hurry!”
Once more they were running like mad, only this time no one spoke so they could all hear Kasnar’s directions.
“Up this street. Turn right once you clear that large pile of rubble.”
The group turned right and ran past quiet storefronts.
“Now left here, and then an immediate right.”
On and on they ran. Venk thought his lungs were going to burst. Finally, after what felt like hours of running, when in actuality it had only been about ten minutes, they were once more standing in the large courtyard against the eastern wall of the great cavern. There, as before, was the large arched doorway leading into the imperial palace. However, now it was guarded by a lone henchman, who was standing alertly in front of the slightly ajar palace doors.
“Wizards be damned,” Breslin swore. Had Rahygren managed to get here first? If so, where was he?
“I think there’s only one,” Athos reported as he skimmed the area from the safety of the distant street corner.
“What do we do now?” Tristofer asked. “The longer we wait the more likely it is that our adversaries catch up!”
Venk felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around. Athos was gently lowering his passenger to the ground.
“Take Kasnar. I’ll deal with this.”
“What do you think you’ll be able to do?” Venk asked. He pushed his way over until he was standing directly in his brother’s path. “You have no idea what weapons they have, or what they can do. Don’t even think about doing something as crazy as this.”
Ignoring his brother, Athos looked over at Breslin. “Be ready to run. Venk, damn it, put on the harness and let Kasnar back in.”
For once, Venk did as he was told. Once the old man was sitting comfortably on his back, Venk turned to Athos.
“What’s your plan?”
Athos pulled out both of his orixes and flicked his wrists, snapping both of them open.
“I’m going to create a distraction.”
Giving Lukas a fond pat on his head, Athos quietly snuck off towards the castle, keeping in the darkened shadows of nearby buildings where the illuminated gold chain didn’t venture. Getting as close as he dared, Athos lined up the mercenary in his sights and cocked an arm. He’d made more difficult shots than this back home, so getting an orix to buzz directly in front of the unsuspecting guard should be a piece of cake.
Crossing his fingers and hoping for the best, Athos hurled his green orix. He watched it spin majestically through the air as it continued its elliptical orbit around the courtyard. Hoping he’d put enough of a spin on the weapon to keep the flight path tight, he watched as it whistled by the guard, coming within two feet of the guard’s head.
Athos watched as the guard snapped to attention. The guard slowly swung his gaze around the courtyard, looking for whatever it was that had caught his attention. The problem was, Athos noted with disgust, he hadn’t abandoned his post. Yet.
Time for another try.
Having already caught the orix as it returned to its thrower, Athos threw the weapon again, this time increasing the spin and changing the angle at which it was thrown. This caused the orix to spin faster and widen its orbit. Once more the emerald green orix buzzed by the guard, but this time it was several feet away. Confused, the guard stared at the rapidly moving object. He cocked his head this way and that as he tried to determine what it was he was looking at.
Athos caught the spinning weapon before the guard looked his way and this time fired off his gold orix. Not giving much thought to where he was aiming, as he had thrown it on the spur of the moment, Athos watched, horrified, as the orix spiraled closer to its target.
“Tell me I didn’t, tell me I didn’t,” Athos repeated to himself, hoping he hadn’t blown his cover by throwing the orix too close to the target.
It was close, very close, but at least it didn’t strike the guard. But, it did whiz by close enough where the guard could feel the wind from its passing. Athos smiled. The guard was now frowning. He had to be thinking some that type of animal was trying to lure him away, presumably from a nest. The guard pulled out an axe and waited for the creature to return.
Athos threw the green orix again, this time so that it would circle a little farther away. The guard followed a few steps. Next, the gold orix circled by, and the guard moved another few paces away. In this manner Athos led the guard directly towards a darkened alley while watching his companions inch ever closer to the palace.
“He’s doing it!” Tristofer whispered excitedly. “The guard is moving off! We’ll be able to sneak back inside the palace in just a few moments!”
Breslin and Venk watched as the unsuspecting guard moved further and further away from his position at the palace entrance. Breslin was impressed. Athos was a master with his two orixes. He had the weapons skirting around buildings, darting through open windows, and even brushing by the guard with only inches to spare. They all watched as the guard, wearing a determined expression on his face, ducked into the darkened alley to investigate.
Everyone heard it: the type of sharp metallic clang which signified someone had just taken a blow to the head. Had it been Athos? Should one of them go check to make sure he was alright?
Venk squared his shoulders and was about to run across the open courtyard to see whether or not his brother needed help when Breslin grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop.
“Our time just ran out. Listen! They approach from the north!”
Everyone listened quietly. Venk cursed to himself. Breslin was right. They were coming, and from the sounds of it, they were approaching fast. Without checking to see what the others were going to do, Venk taxed his tiring lungs to the breaking point by sprinting across the street to the palace door. A quick backwards check verified that everyone was not only behind him but were easily keeping up. He must be tiring.
Breslin reached the palace door first and grabbed Lukas. He tossed him, single-handedly, up and over the crunched chair and through the open door. He looked up in time to see the scholar stare at him in shock.
“Tristofer, get inside! Hurry!”
Venk hurdled the crumpled chair propping the door open and turned around in time to see someone dressed in a full suit of golden armor, just like the one Rahygren’s man had been wearing, run from one darkened street to another. Was that Athos? It had to be. If it had been one of their adversaries then he would have come straight at them.
Breslin swung the power hammer at the chair in a desperate bid to dislodge the bent metal seat that had been keeping the huge palace door open. However, Kasnar’s captor had just appeared from the shadows and was now running all out to get to the door first.
The first blow echoed noisily all throughout the street. The crumpled chair bent inwards even further, but since the chair had been made of the same metal that the famous armor had been made of, it refused to break.
Shocked that the chair hadn’t been knocked loose by the ferocity of the blow, Breslin hit it again. And again. The only thing he accomplished was to wedge the damaged remains of the chair further into the wall and the door. There’d be no dislodging that chair now.
Cursing, Breslin gathered up Lukas and ran after Venk and Kasnar. Tristofer barely kept up.
“Through there,” Kasnar instructed, pointing to an open doorway on the left. “You’ll find a long hallway. Take the second door on your left. Hurry!”
Trusting Kasnar to know what we was doing, Breslin followed the two of them deep into the heart of the palace, ducking through unremarkable doorways and sprinting down endless hallways.
Kasnar suddenly pointed to another arched door, one that had been damaged and was incapable of closing.
“In there. Go!”
“But the door won’t close!” Breslin protested, giving the broken door an angry glance.
“Irrelevant. Trust me
!”
Once they were inside the room, Tristofer gasped with surprise. The room was almost the size of the entry courtyard. The floors were completely covered with a type of marble that had tiny gold flakes all throughout, causing the entire ground to give off an eerie glow. Hallways and doors were everywhere.
“This is the king and queen’s private chambers,” Kasnar told them. He pointed at a statue of a stoic dwarf sitting resolutely on a gilded throne. “Just behind the statue is a hidden door. Find it. Open it. Hurry!”
Venk set Kasnar down and joined Breslin in inspecting the walls. Smoky gray quartz lined every bit of the walls in the royal chambers, and it appeared for all intents and purposes to be a single unbroken surface. There was no way a door could be hidden there. Kasnar had to have been mistaken.
Breslin gave an exasperated sigh. “There’s nothing here, grandfather. No door.” He pulled the hammer from his belt. “I can make one, though.”
Kasnar irritably pushed by his grandson and ran a withered hand across the smooth quartz. His hand stopped about eye level. A tiny indentation was revealed. Had that always been there? Kasnar pushed. With a loud click, a doorway formed and swung inward.
“Get inside! All of you!”
“But it’s dark in there!” Tristofer whined, leaning around their frail guide to peer inside the dark opening.
Venk shoved Lukas through the dark doorway while simultaneously grabbing Tristofer’s beard and pulling him forward.
“Ow! How rude! You don’t have to –”
Breslin elbowed him in the stomach as he pushed the door closed. A few moments later a three foot section of golden chain, embedded in the ceiling overhead, began to glow, giving off a welcome, albeit cold light.
Breslin placed his ear to the door. Venk did the same. He looked at his son and held a finger to his lips.
Rahygren had arrived in the room.
Tristofer tapped Venk on the shoulder. Venk promptly brushed it aside, much like he’d do with an annoying insect. Tristofer tapped again. Annoyed, Venk turned around. Then his mouth fell open. Without turning back around, Venk nudged Breslin, whose own reaction mirrored his.
They were in an armory. Not a large armory designed to equip a battalion of men, but enough to arm several people should the need arise. This was one of the Narian king’s four private armories, Kasnar explained. This one had been designed to be used for emergency purposes only.
“How did you know this was here?” Tristofer wanted to know.
“I saw the door here a number of years ago,” Kasnar explained, correctly guessing what his companions were thinking. “As you can imagine, I decided to keep the information to myself.”
“You clearly had access to the city,” Tristofer argued. “Why didn’t you just escape?”
“Look at me. Do I look like I could overpower my captor? I had an escort everywhere I went. I think once Rahygren knew I was incapable of escaping he deliberately allowed me out of my room. However, only with an escort.”
“That’s mean,” Lukas softly exclaimed.
“Tell me about it,” Kasnar agreed.
Three suits of armor, including one that was practically oozing with jewels, sat somberly on their display stands. Three shields, adorned with the Narian crest, an upside-down hammer amidst a purple backdrop of elegant scrollwork, was visible on each. Half a dozen swords, short swords, axes, and daggers were also sitting neatly on their shelves. All sported a layer of dust several inches thick.
Breslin, Venk, and Tristofer each moved to the suits of armor and began dusting them off, as though seeing the wondrous suits looking anything less than pristine was offensive.
“You already have a set,” Venk told Breslin. He reverently picked up a helmet, dusted it off on his trousers, and started to replace his own.
“Leave it,” Kasnar whispered. “There are more important things in here to worry about than that infernal armor.”
Venk looked longingly back at the glittering pieces of silver and gold. It was genuine Narian armor! It was easily worth a king’s fortune!
“I said to let it go, lad,” Kasnar softly told him. “It’s only a matter of time before we’re discovered. Here, take this instead.”
Venk looked down at the proffered gift, which turned out to be dusty, tarnished, metal arm band about three inches wide and half an inch thick.
“What am I supposed to do with this?”
“Put it on. Breslin, you do the same. Even you, Tristofer.”
Kasnar handed Breslin and Tristofer an identical arm band and waited for them to put it on.
Breslin stared disbelievingly at the ugly metal band and eyed his grandfather as though he had gone insane.
“What good is this going to do me?”
“You’ll thank me later. Now, do you see that device down on the shelf, next to your left knee?”
“Aye.”
“Take that.”
“What is it?”
“Something we’re going to need. Let’s see what else we have in here. Ah. Master Venk, here lad, you take this.”
Venk picked up a device loosely resembling a crossbow, but without its limbs. Instead of an arrow track for the bolt to sit in there was another row of metal tubes forming a cylinder. A metal wheel with a small protuberance was situated on the right side. The undersides of the device, directly to the left of where the metal tubes were, had a small rectangular opening with grooves in all four corners.
“What’s this?” Venk asked in a hushed tone. No sense in giving away their location if they didn’t have to.
Kasnar wasn’t listening. The tiny fellow was down on his knees, searching frantically for something on the lower shelves.
“Why put it in here if there isn’t any… Ah! Here we are!”
Kasnar slowly regained his feet and held out an object that was about a foot long by six inches wide. The top of the thing was rectangular shaped, and had grooves on all four corners. Venk turned the device over and compared the rectangular opening with that of the object Kasnar had given him. They were a perfect match. Venk gingerly pushed the narrow object into the device until he heard it click. The device made a few more clicks before falling silent.
“Now, turn that there and it’ll be ready. Here, I found several more canisters. Keep them on you.”
Venk smiled. He finally figured out what he was holding. This was a smaller version of the arrow shooter that Rahygren had used on them. The rectangular object he had inserted into this weapon had to contain mini arrows.
As he looked back at Kasnar, he spotted the four other cartridges that had been dumped at his feet. Fastening them into place on his belt and several open loops on his baldric, Venk turned to see Kasnar pointing at shields small enough to be suitable for underlings. He had Lukas take one while Tristofer took the other.
Everyone cringed as a loud crash was heard through the door. Someone began pounding on the wall.
“Slide that bolt over there,” Kasnar urged his grandson, pointing to the top right corner of the door. “That’ll keep the door from opening in case they find the release for it.”
Breslin shoved the bolt up into the ceiling and hooked it into place.
“I hear you in there! There’s nowhere to hide, fools! Surrender!”
When it became clear that no one wanted to take Rahygren up on his more than generous offer to give up, more crashing could be heard, followed closely by a sharp set of commands.
“What’s he saying?” Venk whispered.
“He’s called for something to be brought here,” Breslin whispered back. “I couldn’t make it all out. Something about a disruptor.”
Tristofer nervously shook his head. “That can’t be good.”
Breslin pushed his way past his companions so that he could talk to his grandfather. He held up a shiny object the size of his water bag.
“So what is this? What am I supposed to do with it?”
“I’m not sure,” Kasnar admitted sadly. “I’ve read about the p
ortable arrow shooter, and therefore recognized its components immediately. I remember reading something about other weapons that were brutally effective in close quarters, and I suspected that’s what it was as soon as I saw it. As to what it does I don’t think anyone knows.”
“What if it doesn’t do anything?” Breslin asked. “Why bother taking it?”
“Because you’re standing in an armory, lad,” Kasnar patiently pointed out.
“While I appreciate the thought that you’d want us to be able to protect ourselves,” Tristofer began, holding the small shield as though it belonged to a small child, “but I cannot see how this will be that much of a help.”
Kasnar turned to whisper something in Breslin’s ear. He turned to look at his grandfather, skepticism written all over his face.
“Really?”
Kasnar nodded.
Breslin was suddenly holding the power hammer and made a move to conk Tristofer over his head. Two things happened at the same time. The metal bracelet that Kasnar had given the scholar suddenly glowed and rapidly expanded into a three foot by three foot metal square. Also, the small child-sized shield that he had been given clicked loudly and rapidly expanded its size, becoming a durable, lightweight, full-sized shield.
Tristofer was impressed. “Very well. You talked me into it. I’ll keep it.”
Kasnar shook his head. “A wise move, lad.”
Fifteen minutes later Rahygren’s voice called out to them from within the king’s private chamber.
“This is your last warning! This is the only deal I’ll make with you. Surrender now and give up the hammer! That’s the only reason you’re still alive.”
“How many are out there?” Kasnar suddenly asked.
That drew Breslin up short. He turned to stare at his grandfather.
“What? Can this not wait? There are more important things to worry about.”
“Answer me, boy.”
Lost City Page 32
