by Brandon Fox
There was a loud crack, like a mighty tree snapping in half. Cool air washed over them as the barrier dissolved in rippling circles centered on Dannel’s hands. He lurched forward as resistance vanished, but Thane and Ander caught him as he staggered. Sweat drenched their torsos, and Dannel shook from fatigue.
“You did it!” Skorri shouted. He and Erik ran to the portal, radiating relief.
“We’d better not linger,” Thane said. “The spell’s power might be replenished from whatever source it draws on. We don’t have the strength to drain it again.”
“You’re right,” Dannel agreed. “And any nearby scouts will have heard the noise it made. We’ll have company soon.”
“Send the horses off,” Thane said. “They can’t go underground with us, and we don’t want them to draw attention to the Gate.” Erik obliged, swatting the horses on their rumps. The startled animals bolted for the forest.
Ander watched the departing steeds until they vanished among the trees, then turned and followed the others into the high gallery. They moved quickly, pausing only briefly when darkness forced them to create a telos light. The glyphs beckoned for attention, but he kept his eyes downcast, searching for the concealed passage to the subterranean chambers. Winds had shifted the dust and swept away all traces of their previous visits.
The gallery seemed to go on endlessly. He grew disoriented, unsure how quickly they had traveled during their earlier explorations, knowing that pursuit was making his mind race. He was brushing dust from a likely looking area when Erik appeared next to him and made a covert gesture. Glancing up, he saw the others were already gathered near the wall. The hunter made a sign for silence and then gestured for Ander to follow.
Once they were all together, Erik drew them into a close circle. “We’re not alone,” he whispered. “I heard something between us and the Gate’s entrance. Sounded like footfalls, very quiet. Maybe men, maybe not. Keeping just beyond the light.”
Ander resisted the temptation to turn and look. “When?” he asked.
“First noticed it about a minute ago. I waited to be sure. If it’s men, they’re just watching so far. That might change once they know we’ve heard them.”
“Probably scouts,” Thane whispered. “I wager they’re guardians and most likely armed. They’ll attack when the passage to the library starts to open. We’re at a disadvantage.”
“Can you make the light vanish, then come back brighter?” Dannel asked. “It would help if we can surprise them.”
“You have a plan?”
“Give me ten seconds of darkness. I’ll try to get close without being heard. Then make the brightest light you can. You’d better do it now. If they’re guardians, they’ll be getting suspicious.”
“And if it’s not guardians?” Ander asked.
“Then I’m the one who’ll be surprised. Come to my aid if you can, but don’t follow until there’s light again. It would be dangerous.”
“I understand,” Thane said. “Good luck. Ready?”
Dannel nodded once. An instant later the telos light vanished and darkness engulfed them. Ander held his breath, his fear of underground places surging. He counted to ten, feeling as if demons stood directly behind him. If Dannel was moving, he was too stealthy to be heard.
A few seconds later, a telos light blazed overhead, five times brighter than the one Thane had been maintaining earlier. The thud of colliding bodies echoed between the tall stone walls, followed by a sharp snap. Ander spun around to catch a glimpse of Dannel flinging a man’s limp body aside, its head twisted at a grotesque angle. Dannel immediately moved toward the Gate’s entrance, blocking retreat by a second man who had been lurking in darkness.
Instead of attacking, the leather-clad scout crossed his arms. “You’re a coward as well as a traitor, Dannel. Were you afraid to face a challenge?”
Dannel remained in a crouch. “You didn’t come here for a fair fight, Zevon. And you won’t delay me with trickery.”
The older man assumed a fighting posture but didn’t advance. His anger turned into a glare. “Too bad they want you alive. You betrayed us. I won’t get to kill you myself, but I’ll see you screaming in the dungeons. They’re planning tortures they haven’t used in a hundred years.”
“Threats are for slaves like you.” Dannel moved forward, balancing on the balls of his feet and watching his opponent warily. “I’m free now. Free of the hierophants and released from the firestone. Your loyalty to your masters was misplaced.”
Zevon growled and raised his fists. “Liar! You were always a fool. What you say is impossible. Time to stop dreaming and pay for your treachery.”
“Enough talk!”
Dannel leaped forward. The fighters engaged, lashing out with vicious kicks and spinning like acrobats as they dodged blows. Zevon was older and slower, but Dannel was fatigued from breaching the barrier at the Gate. Both landed bruising blows. The pace changed, momentarily slowing. Dannel’s face was impassive, his attention totally focused on combat.
Erik moved toward Zevon, coming from behind, getting within twenty feet.
“Stay back,” Dannel said, his eyes never straying from his opponent. “He knows you’re there. He’ll use you as a weapon. Leave him to me.” Erik looked uncertain.
“Do as he says,” Thane said.
Erik started to step back. Before he moved more than a yard, Zevon whirled and sprang at him. Erik raised his arms in belated self-defense. At the same moment, Dannel yelled and charged.
Blows fell in a blur. Erik fell and rolled to the side, bleeding from a split lip, as the guardians continued to pummel each other. Dannel was at a disadvantage from his lighter weight but attacked with such ferocity that Ander was taken aback.
Ignoring the blows he was receiving, Dannel pressed in and landed a rabbit punch in the middle of Zevon’s chest as the man inhaled. An agonized expression flashed across his face, and he momentarily dropped his defenses. Without hesitation, Dannel delivered a crushing blow to his opponent’s neck.
Zevon fell onto his back. His breath rasped as he clawed at his crushed windpipe. The rasp turned into a gurgle, and his struggles stopped. Dannel stepped back, his chest heaving. When he looked up, Ander was surprised by the sorrow in his face.
“I’ve known him since I was sold to the temple,” Dannel said. “In a way, we were friends. He had almost finished his indenture. I’m sorry we had to fight.”
Ander put a hand on his arm. “It wasn’t your choice. You did what was needed. He was a warrior; he’d understand.”
“I know.” Dannel put a hand on top of Ander’s. Their eyes met, and Ander could see the acceptance of what fate had demanded. “We’re not out of here yet,” Dannel said. “We’d best continue our search.”
“FOUND it,” Thane called, his voice tight with urgency. Fifteen minutes had been required to locate the concealed entry, though to Ander the time felt like hours. The rest of the Aerehoth Guardians would have heard the commotion when the Gate’s barrier was breached and would not be far behind the scouts.
They clustered around Thane, clearing dust from the intricate mosaic, revealing the hairline crack that marked their goal. Escape beckoned, and Ander began to breathe easier.
“Keep still,” Thane said. “I need to concentrate.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, dimming the telos light to a mere flicker as he gathered his strength. Then he extended his right hand and moved it as if caressing an invisible ball directly in front of him. He paused, then repeated the gesture. A puzzled expression flitted across his face, settling into a frown. His eyes opened and fixed on Ander.
“Something has changed. I’m not finding the spell we used before. Help me look?”
Ander moved behind him, embracing his torso and pulling their bodies together. Their bond deepened and strengthened.
“Try now.”
Thane closed his eyes again while Ander shared anima through the bond and opened his mind to shared perceptions. The feel of swirling curren
ts was as strong as ever. But there was no hint of the pivot point they had used to operate the concealed entrance. They searched with increasing desperation, but soon there could be no doubt. The psychic key for gaining entry had vanished.
Ander opened his eyes and stepped back, cold sweat on his brow. “It’s no good. The spell’s gone. Pallaton must have sealed the passage.” His throat was dry. “Where do we go now?”
“Wait,” Erik said, holding up a hand for silence. “Do you see it?” He pointed in the direction of the Gate. “Douse the light, Thane.”
Thane curled his fingers into a fist, and darkness engulfed them.
At first Ander saw nothing. Darkness wrapped him like a smothering blanket. Then a dim glow materialized in the distance like fire beyond the horizon. Moments later the murmur of voices reached them as faint echoes.
“Sounds like a dozen or more,” Ander whispered. “They’re not trying to hide.”
“What now?” Skorri asked, his voice timorous.
“Three options,” Dannel said. “Go back and meet them. Wait here. Or go deeper and hope we find something that could help us.”
“We keep going,” Thane said. “At least we’ll gain some time. Use it, think of a plan.” He conjured another telos light, a tiny red orb that barely provided enough glow to see by, and beckoned for the others to follow.
They retreated as quickly as they could without making noise. Soon the corridor began sloping down. Faint vibrations in the floor grew stronger, and a thrum of power filled the air. Ander noticed that the glyphs covering the high walls glowed faintly. It was as if the power dwelling at the structure’s heart brought the stone itself to life.
He felt wisps of the disorientation that had snared them the first time they’d visited this place. A rectangle of pulsing red light appeared ahead of them, marking the entrance to the circular chamber where the portal into the kei stood.
“Wait,” Ander said. “We should think a minute before going further.”
Thane stopped and turned. He was fighting to control his expression, but there was no way to conceal the despair in their bond. Ander’s heart ached. He was more saddened by his lover’s defeated look than by his own likely fate.
“Remember what happened last time we went in there?” Ander said. “You and Dannel were both possessed. What if it happens again?”
“What choice do we have?” Thane asked. “Do you have a plan?”
“No,” Ander admitted. He gazed into his lover’s eyes, almost unable to continue. Thane had suffered so much, fought so hard. Now that their remaining time together might be measured in minutes, he couldn’t bear the thought of losing even a second of what they had left. He clenched his hands into fists, struggling to keep from trembling. “I… I don’t think there’s anywhere left to run. We might as well make our stand here. Where we’ll at least be able to put up a fight.”
Thane nodded, looking desperately unhappy. Then he held his head high and took a deep breath as the others gathered around him. “You’re right. We should be together now. Fight well, friends. And remember, the kei is full of mysteries. A part of Lucian survived there after his death. If we lose this fight, I hope we find each other again. Somewhere else, someplace better.” His gaze returned to Ander, and his voice softened. “I’ll never stop searching for you. Not ever.”
Ander took Thane in his arms and held him tightly. There was no time left for words; none were needed.
Angry shouts echoed behind them, followed by the clatter of booted feet on stone.
“They’ve found Zevon and Aremis,” Dannel said.
They formed a line and waited. Tumultuous voices quickly grew louder, and the light of torches cast distended shadows on the soaring walls. Ander felt strangely calm as destiny rushed toward him. He wouldn’t have traded his time with Thane for even a hundred years of a quiet life.
Suddenly men boiled down the gallery like bats swarming from a cave. Most wore the black leathers of Aerehoth Guardians, but men wearing red and yellow robes moved among them. Ander prepared to fight, feeling as futile as a hare defying wolves, but Thane stood at his side, and he was determined to meet his fate with honor.
The clamor was deafening, the air fouled with the sour smell of men who had traveled hard for days.
The onrushing tide abruptly slowed and came to a stop fifty feet away, like a wave cresting on a beach. There were at least two score, a third priests and the rest guardians. They spaced themselves across the wide corridor, muttering and glaring with murderous intensity. A man stepped away from the mob and strode toward them. Torchlight glinted on his steel skullcap.
Thane lowered his hands, stunned. “Varian! What’s he doing here?”
Ander was speechless. Somehow the approaching priest of Yataghan was more terrifying than the phalanx of warriors. Death in combat was one thing, but the followers of Yataghan inflicted slow death by torture as their chief sacrament. Varian approached to within ten feet and stopped in front of them. Thane glared at his nemesis, not deigning to speak.
Varian examined Thane from head to foot, from all appearances more curious than hostile. At last he looked Thane in the eye. “You’re a mystery to me,” he said. “Maybe the stories are true, the zamindar has lost his reason. Why else should he be so concerned over a pretty boy? But I don’t care. The reward is mine. That’s all that matters.”
“You’ve earned no reward,” Thane said. “We spared your life, and this is how you repay us. You’re lower than a dung beetle.”
Varian’s smile was cold. “You’re trying to provoke me. Is that why the zamindar wants you? To avenge some stupid insult before he dies?” He laughed, a sound filled with malice, then took a step back. “You can’t escape,” he said, gesturing at the men behind him with a sweep of his arm. “I’ve brokered an agreement with the mystics from Skarn. They’ll do my bidding in return for a share of the prize. But I need you alive to collect the reward. Preferably undamaged, since the journey is long and time is short. The zamindar’s enemies could topple him, or his body could fail him any day. Either way, the reward would vanish. I can’t permit that.”
Thane hesitated. “Topple him? He rules with an iron fist.”
Varian snorted at the question. “That was when he was an ordinary tyrant. Now he’s a madman, a dying one at that. He tore his kingdom apart in an insane search for you. His cronies abandoned him once they saw his mind weaken, and the peasants have seized their chance. Half the manor houses in Izmir have been set to the torch.” He laughed again, seeming to take delight in the chaos sweeping the kingdom.
Ander gaped, shocked by the turn of events in Izmir. If the zamindar’s health was finally failing, he would be desperate for the secret of immortality his sorcerers had promised. But Thane had defeated the chief sorcerer and snatched away the secret. It was no wonder the tyrant was willing to risk everything to recapture Thane.
Thane looked at Varian defiantly. “You’re wasting your time. Fight, or leave us. You have no other choices.”
Varian’s eyes narrowed. “Brave words. But you’re worth a king’s ransom, and I need you intact. So I’ll give you a choice. Come with me peaceably, and on my word as a priest of Yataghan I swear I’ll let your friends go free. Or fight and lose. And after you lose, you’ll watch me skin your companions alive, one by one. It will delay our journey, but you’ll likely need mending before you can travel anyway.”
Thane paled. Ander felt his sick dread. There was no doubt Varian would make good on his threat.
Thane wiped his forehead with a shaking hand. “I… I need a moment. Give me a minute with my friends.”
Varian gave a curt nod. “Be quick about it.” He turned and walked back to the men standing guard.
Thane went to his friends and led them further down the corridor before drawing them into a huddle. “What do you think?” he asked. “Whether we fight or not, I’ll be taken prisoner. There’s only one way to avoid it. One of you could kill me now, before Varian can interfere. But then h
e’d take his revenge on you.” He glanced at Dannel, his dark thoughts obvious. Only the guardian had the skills to quickly kill a man bare-handed and without risk of failure. “If I surrender, I think he’ll keep his oath to let you go free. He gave it in front of others, and followers of Yataghan take pride in keeping their word. It sounds like the zamindar is near death. With luck he might die before we get back to Izmir.”
“There might be another way,” Dannel said softly. “While you were talking with the priest, I was hearing the call of the power in the next chamber. I can feel it, Thane. I think I could release that power from the kei. Like we did with the barrier outside. You and Ander showed me how to do it.”
“It’s not that simple,” Ander said. “How could you control it? It took three of us to drain the force from the Gate, and even then we barely managed. Varian won’t give us the time we need.”
“I know.” Dannel’s voice was hushed. “All I can do is breach the dam between the kei and the world. I sensed anima’s nature when we were draining the barrier. It’s a force, like an arrow in flight. It goes straight unless something shoves it aside. Everything in front of the portal will be swept away. But if you’re behind the portal you should be safe.”
No one spoke. Dannel plainly understood the consequences of his plan.
Thane broke the silence. “Dannel, I remember your pledge, but I can’t—”
“Forget that! You gave me freedom, and I want to use it. I’m still a fighter, and now I have something worth defending.” He gazed at Thane with undisguised longing. “I’ve felt your bond with Ander. The two of you should never be parted. I want to do this, for both of you. Accept this as my gift.”
Ander put a hand on Dannel’s arm, the ache in his chest making words impossible. A few moments later, Thane did the same. Dannel gave them a solemn nod. “On my signal, run for the inner chamber and get on the platform behind the portal. Don’t look at it when you enter the chamber or it might ensnare you. And don’t look back.”
