by Pedro Urvi
Ismes and Yestas walked into the room, and the welcoming smiles on their faces vanished when they realized something was wrong. Sejof looked at them for a moment. “Come over here!” he ordered. “Talk to him, make him come to his senses.” His finger jabbed at Ikai’s chest. The two young Hunters looked at their Master in confusion. “Don’t let him leave the precinct, I want him watched. It’s an order!” he cried, and left in a fury.
Dawn found Ikai lying on his cot, awake. He had barely slept. He got up and put on his Hunter’s gear. He glanced around him at the stone walls he knew so well and the beds where his comrades were sleeping, with the trunks where they kept their scanty belongings at the foot of them. The smell of breakfast which the cook was already preparing, as on every other morning, reached him: that dreadful grub which tasted awful but which satisfied body and spirit. He smiled. He had spent lots of time there, learning, training, surviving… He had never wished for that particular trade; he had accepted it because he needed to help his family survive, needed it for his mother who was ill. The job was dangerous, and most of the time it was despicable. But the pay was good and it allowed him to buy the medicine Solma needed. Even so, little by little he had formed a link of camaraderie and respect, of brotherhood, with his fellow Hunters: with Ismes, who slept on the cot next to his, with Yestas, who snored like a saw two beds away, and even with Master Sejof, whom he respected deeply. And now, if he were to continue in his endeavor, he would lose it all. He had not thought of that until he saw Sejof’s reaction, but now he was sure. He found this deeply upsetting. I don’t want to cross the Master or my comrades, still less put them in danger because of me.
He sheathed his sword and put the throwing dagger at the back of his leather belt. He was not proud of what he did as a Hunter, in fact he hated it, but he knew he had to swallow his pride and live with the shame. He had gotten used to feeling it, as he had with the fear and contempt the villagers showed him. It only hurt when Kyra reproached him. And then it hurt as much as if he were being burnt with a hot iron. But it had been his own choice and he did not regret it. He glanced to one side at those men he had shared so much with and felt a pang of sadness. But there was nothing he could do, because deep down he knew he was going ahead, whatever the consequences.
He sighed. Ambuk had already warned him not to tell Sejof, but he had to try, since the Master had been like a father to him. It was a risk, but I thought the Master would help me somehow. I was so sure, but I was wrong, completely wrong. He shook his head, feeling hurt. He finished gathering his belongings together and put them in the bag, which he then slung over his shoulder. He went out into the courtyard and breathed in the morning air. It was cool, and it had the effect of clearing his mind. He stretched his muscles. Looking up at the sky, he made his decision: he would go on with his mission.
“We can’t let you leave.”
Ikai turned to find Ismes and Yestas, dressed and armed.
“Last night we talked until the small hours of the morning, friends. You know the situation, I can’t stay.”
“We know it and we’re sorry, we really are. But you must think it over, you have to stay,” Yestas said.
“I can’t, my friends.”
“You know we’d help you if we could,” Ismes said, “but orders are orders.”
“You won’t try to stop me by force?” Ikai said with disbelief.
The two young men tensed, and their hands went to their swords.
“That won’t be necessary,” came Sejof’s authoritarian voice. The Master Hunter came to stand in front of Ikai. “Have you thought about your decision?” he asked, his dark eyes fixed on Ikai’s.
“Yes, Master. I’m going after her.”
Saddened, Sejof let his head fall. “If you leave now I won’t be able to protect you. Because you’re refusing your duty, you won’t be a Hunter any more. You’ll be a Pariah. Do you understand that, Ikai? Do you understand what that means, and the consequences?”
Ikai swallowed. “I understand, Master.”
“And even so, you want to leave?”
“Yes, Master. My decision is firm.”
Sejof sighed long and deeply. “All right. I’ll give you three days before I report your absence. It’s as much as I can do. I can’t risk more.”
“Thank you, Master. I’m really grateful,” Ikai said, bowing his head in respect.
“May Oxatsi, Mother Sea, protect you! Pray and ask for her blessing so that our paths may never cross, because if they do…”
Ikai nodded, understanding the unspoken message, and turned to his comrades one last time. They raised their hands in farewell, their faces marked with deep concern. He left, leaving behind the life he had known, to become a Pariah, an outlaw. To become what he had been hunting until that very day.
With the night as an ally, enveloped in the shadows, Ikai moved stealthily with his back to a high rock wall. He wore dark clothes covered with a black woolen cloak, with a hood of the same color. He was in the section of the city furthest to the north, beyond the Regent’s palace and the rich buildings beside it. On the other side of the wall the forbidden quarter began. No one, with the exception of the Eyes-of-the-Gods and the Executors, had access to that part of the city, not even Sesmok himself. But the district was closely watched by the Regent’s Guard, as if some crazy fool would dare to disobey the law of the Gods.
But that was precisely what Ikai was on the point of doing. He remembered what Proxy Ambuk had told him about the Dungeons of Oblivion. There must be an entrance nearby. He went on carefully, trying not to be found out, like a stealthy thief in the night. He felt out of his own element; he was used to following a trail, not to staying hidden. Much to his chagrin, this was going to be his life from now on. He had three days and he had to take advantage of them, because after this they would be after him. He shook his head and frowned. Let them come! I won’t make it easy for them.
He hunched his shoulders, bowed his head and walked close to the wall. He turned at the first corner and saw them. His heart nearly burst; he stood still, silently watching the two Executors on guard in front of the tall metal gate. He stepped back, slowly, and let the wall hide him. It was the entrance to the complex, the point he was looking for. He retreated a few steps more to be sure they could not hear him and began to unravel a rope he had been carrying coiled around his body. He crouched and tied the hook to one end. He calculated the distance it needed to clear the wall. Then he looked to his left, where the Guard was moving away with measured steps. He had exactly a hundred paces of time: he had studied the patrol routine and calculated the best moment to try his risky move. If one of them turned now, he would be found. But Ikai knew it was a calculated risk he had to take.
He breathed in the cool night air and very carefully launched the hook with the rope. The noise of metal scraping the stone sounded like thunder in the quiet of the night, although it could not have been heard more than a few steps away. Ikai looked both ways restlessly, expecting to see the Executors appear or one of the Guards to turn back. But nobody had heard. He yanked the rope a couple of times to check that it was firmly anchored and took a deep breath. The moment has come, there’s no way back. On, for Kyra. He summoned up his courage and began to climb.
He went down the other side and moved into the shadows of the forbidden quarter. He tried to make out anything distinctive which might indicate the entrance to the dungeons. He went on, hiding among hedges and trees, and realized that he was in a large garden. He could not see much, for only the faint light of the moon in a cloudy sky illuminated the area. Using his training as a Hunter and his years of experience following trails through fields and forests, he went on until he reached a group of buildings which appeared to be huge warehouses.
Like a predator camouflaged from its prey he waited, lying among the shadows, until the two Executors on duty passed. He sighed with relief when he realized he had not been found out. He stood up, checked one of the windows of the first building and saw
that he could force it open with his dagger. With the stealth of a snake he crawled inside. He inspected the surroundings and saw with surprise that it was really an enormous store filled with barrels and bundles. With extreme care he risked going on to the second building, avoiding another couple of Executors doing their round. He found a warehouse filled with sacks. He bent over one of them and opened it with his dagger: grain. He checked the next with the same result. The whole warehouse was filled with grain. The people were dying of hunger and accumulated here were all the wheat, oats, and cereal which had been taken from them. Bastards!
A sound. At his back. He turned, dagger at the ready. A pair of eyes shone in the dark. He had been discovered. He tensed, ready to fight. He would die in the act of killing. He was greeted by a meow. Ikai sighed with relief. It was a cat. Wherever there was cereal, there were mice, and where there were mice, there would be cats… He recovered from his fright and went out by the window. He checked another five giant buildings like the one he had just left, wondering what goods would be stored there. Everything obtained with the sweat and blood of the people. The bastards!
And suddenly he saw light. He moved closer, very slowly. Several torches and oil lamps illuminated a large square surrounded by buildings whose façades looked as though they were pure gold, marked with strange runes. In the middle of the square he saw four Eyes-of-the-Gods in their silver tunics hemmed with gold. They were standing beside a silver sphere covered with the strange symbol-language of the Gods, leaning on a black marble stand.
Ikai threw himself on the ground and watched from behind a clump of bushes. They seemed to be arguing about something. Suddenly a fifth Eye came out of a round building at the far end, like the temple but far bigger. Behind him walked half a dozen Executors forming a row. Two Executors brought up the rear, dragging one man between them.
The Enforcers of the Gods left the man they were dragging in the middle of the five Eyes, who were standing in a circle. The man remained on his knees, and his wailing filled the night. He was pleading amid sobs that they would not hurt him anymore. By his appearance and the blood on his face, it was obvious that he had been tortured. The Eyes-of-the-Gods began a sinister chant, which froze the blood in Ikai’s veins. One of them made a gesture with his hand, and the poor unfortunate was put into the sphere while the others raised their arms to the sky. The sphere began to rotate on the stand with a long deep buzzing. The prisoner began to convulse violently and the five waited for a moment, as if expecting something to happen, until the poor wretch died with a horrifying scream.
The Eyes turned and went into one of the buildings. The Executors left the area in pairs, in different directions. Ikai had to roll and crawl along the ground to avoid being discovered. His years as a Hunter served him well; he anticipated the Enforcers’ movements by listening to the slightest sound, and his stealth kept him hidden. When the last Executors left, taking the body to the main entrance of the complex, an idea began to form in his mind.
Where there’s one prisoner, there’ll be more. And as he thought that he crawled to the building they had taken the poor man out of, glancing from side to side and hoping he would not be seen. All his senses were alert. He reached the entrance and saw that it had no door, only a circular opening in the wall. But it was guarded by an Executor.
I can’t confront him, he’d call for help after he’d pulled my head off. What can I do to distract him? Think… think… Ikai closed his eyes and concentrated. He needed an idea, a good idea, or he would never manage to get inside. An all of a sudden one came to his mind. It’ll work, it has to work, he thought, and retraced his steps back into the shadows of the night the way he had come. It did not take him long to return.
“Come on, don’t fail me,” he whispered, and freed what he was carrying under his cloak. At the same time he kept an eye on the Executor in front of the entrance. Let’s see if what they say about them is true. Ikai watched closely. A shadow passed in front of the Executor.
“Damned cat!” brayed the Enforcer. Immediately he tried to hit the cat. The animal leapt toward the sphere and the Executor went after it with the intention of skewering it with his spear. Ikai took advantage of the situation, and with the swiftness and stealth of a fox he ran into the building. It’s true, they hate animals. That would explain why the Enforcers don’t ride. They always use chariots. He smiled and looked for a door. He did not find one, but what he found in its stead was a trap door in the floor in the middle of the room. Without thinking twice, he went down it. Under his feet he found stone steps carved out of the rock itself. He went on down carefully while his eyes adjusted themselves to the darkness. A faint golden light seemed to issue from strange runes carved along the wall on his right. He was going deeper into an underground cave. An icy shiver ran down his back. He went on along the narrow corridor, crouching, trying not to make the slightest noise. There would certainly be guards down there.
A little further down he glimpsed light, and his spirits rose. He reached it and found himself in a round room. The floor was silver. Surprised, Ikai bent over to touch it with his hand, since it looked like pure molten silver. A golden circle of strange symbols ran around it. He looked up at the ceiling, and not more than nine feet above he saw an identical surface. It looked like a mirror reflecting the floor, except for the fact that he did not appear in it. Three tunnels set off from here in different directions.
He stood contemplating them thoughtfully, deciding which one to follow. He took a moment to calculate the options the way he liked to, and at last decided on the furthest to the right. If he had calculated correctly, it pointed north and he guessed the dungeons would be in the deepest, furthest part: to the north. He unsheathed his sword with his right hand and his throwing dagger with his left. Kyra’s here, very close. I’m going to find her. He went on into the tunnel with determination. He walked for some time; the corridors grew longer and gloomier. A dark silence hung over that place, which seemed to conceal some lurking danger. Ikai’s hands were sweating. He crossed another round room whose floor and ceiling were silver, and once again chose the tunnel to the far right. I hope I’m not making the wrong choices, or else I’ll end up at the bottom of an abyss.
He was getting ready to enter the tunnel when he heard a sound nearby. He tensed. It was coming from the tunnel to his left. Someone was coming. This convinced him. He went into the right hand tunnel, walking fast and looking back every few steps to check whether he was being followed. At the end of an interminable corridor he saw light and stopped so he would not reveal himself. He permitted himself a single brief glance. He was left speechless. These were the dungeons. The room was very similar to the ones he had left behind, round and with silver floor and dome. But in this one, forming a perfect circle, were a dozen strange black spheres. They had bars at the front and were solid at the back. Inside each one there was… a person.
Ikai was getting over the shock, trying to make sense of this place, when he heard a noise behind him. It was faint, like the swishing of a cloak and muffled footsteps. Someone was coming. He had to move, and he could only go forward. He glanced at the dungeon again. The threatening shadow of a rhomboid head was projected on the wall. Ikai nearly dropped his dagger, startled. With eyes wide as saucers he saw an Executor coming into the room. At once he flattened himself against the tunnel wall. The Executor could not see him among the shadows. The sound at his back was coming closer. I can’t stay here. They’re going to discover me!
He heard a despairing moan and risked a lightning glance. The Executor had opened one of the spherical cages. He yanked a prisoner out and dragged him by the ankle as if he were no more than a puppet. Ikai watched in astonishment. The strength of those hulks was limitless. He had heard stories… and more and more he was beginning to believe them. He looked back, but could see nobody in the faint light of the tunnel behind him. And yet he could hear fresh reverberations of that sound. Someone was coming. He had no choice; he had to risk it. And he walked out into
the revealing light of the chamber.
He crouched behind one of the cages. His heart was racing. The back of the Executor, covered by the long red cape, was still in full view. For a single moment Ikai stopped breathing, fearing he would be heard. The Enforcer of the Gods disappeared into the darkness of the tunnel on the other side of the dungeon. Ikai exhaled with relief. But it was a short-lived consolation, as he knew he only had a moment before the next danger appeared behind him. I must take advantage of the few moments I have left and find Kyra.
He left his hiding-place and faced the front of the sphere. Between the convex bars he saw a young man, somewhat older than he was himself. He was shaking, huddled in a fetal position, and ugly bruises marked both his legs. His color was not good.
“Listen,” Ikai called out in a whisper.
But the man did not want to look. Fear had him in its thrall.
“Come on, look at me, I’m not one of them.”
The man shook his head and crouched further against the back of the sphere. Ikai swore to himself. He went to the next sphere and tried again. There was the same result.
“Hell!” he said under his breath. His time was up. He was on the point of being discovered. He swept the spheres with a glance in search of someone who might help him. All refused to look at him and hid further inside, possessed by terror. All except one. A woman met his gaze. Ikai went quickly over to her. She must have been about forty, and her face and neck were marked by torture.
“Kyra, do you know a girl called Kyra?” he asked, clutching the bars.
The woman looked at him with sunken eyes and shook her head.
“She’s seventeen, her hair and eyes are like fire. Her spirit’s a volcano.”
