Chapter 81 | Ferrin
FERRIN URGED THE HORSE faster through the mountain pass. He had stolen the animal in town, not something he was proud of, but when being chased by an inquisitor and his bulradoer, desperate times sometimes called for unscrupulous decisions.
The walls of the pass were steep and jagged. Loose rock lined both sides of the narrow trail, forcing him to stay near the center of the winding passage. The wind whipping down through the rocks from the snowcaps above was so cold, it burned his skin like a hot poker.
Ferrin pushed on, knowing all too well that Cheeks wouldn’t be too far behind. He didn’t have to hear or see the corax to know they were there. He could feel them in the small hairs on the back of his neck.
He prayed his friends had made it out. The thought of what the inquisitor would do to them, especially to Rae, sent a chill through him that threatened to overpower even the icy gusts.
He rounded the next bend and kicked his horse into a full gallop when he saw travelers up ahead. Could it be—
They turned at the sound of his horse, and Ferrin almost started to cry when he saw their faces. They’d made it out.
Myron looked relieved, Suri waved enthusiastically, and even Rae had a small grin for him, until she saw the blood on his arm.
Ferrin pulled alongside Rae, and she held out her hand. He shook his head, not understanding what she wanted.
“My crystal.”
“What, no warm welcome? No ‘it’s great to see you’re alive, Ferrin’?” He removed the chain holding her transferal from his neck and handed it to her. She grabbed it, wrapped it around her neck, then leaned over and stuck her hand through his torn sleeve. The familiar icy burn worked its way into his arm, followed by a soothing numbness.
Ferrin lifted his arm to inspect her work. Good as new.
“Well, I’m glad to see you,” Myron said. “We feared the worst when you didn’t show up this morning.”
“How did you know—”
“It was Suri. She heard those creatures again, so we packed the gear and headed for the passes. We left your horse and saddle in case you needed them.” He glanced at Ferrin’s tired mount. “But apparently, you didn’t. We also left word with Tibble and Kyleen that if they were to see you, they should let you know where we went.”
“I’m afraid they didn’t get the chance.”
“What do you mean?”
“By the time I made it back to the inn, the place had been ransacked. Two of those bird creatures were . . .” He glanced at Suri and decided not to finish. “They just didn’t make it.”
Myron shook his head, and Rae put her arm around Suri.
“I would have been here sooner,” Ferrin said, “but I had a run-in with the hunting party who’s been tracking us. I barely escaped. And that’s not the worst of it.” He glanced at Rae. “Sylas is back.”
Rae’s face went blank.
“Inquisitor Sylas?” Myron asked. “How’s that possible? I thought you said you killed him.”
“I did. Or . . . that is, Rae did. He’s not the same, though. He’s been . . . changed.”
“Changed?”
Ferrin explained what had happened to him since Cheeks’s arrival at the smithy. How he was traveling with a bulradoer, one with red hair and strangely colored eyes.
“Lenara,” Rae said under her breath. “Her name is Lenara.”
“You know her?”
Rae nodded.
“I’ve seen her around,” Myron said. “She works for the Archchancellor.”
“She’s dangerous, I’ll say that,” Ferrin said. “If it hadn’t been for these blades, I wouldn’t be here now.”
Myron glanced excitedly at the two swords strapped to Ferrin’s waist. “They stood up to a bulradoer?”
Ferrin nodded, and Myron’s eyes lit up.
Ferrin went on to describe the fight between him and Lenara as well as his battle with the corax and the narrow escape down the side of the cliff.
“Someone up there’s watching out for you,” Myron said. “Best we get out—”
Suri gasped and everyone turned. She grabbed Rae’s arm and pointed back the way they had just come. Twisting in his saddle, Ferrin could just make out the two dark winged shapes heading their way.
“It appears our time has just run out,” Myron said.
Ferrin looked at Rae. “You and Suri head for the bridge. We’ll catch up.”
“Why? What are you going to do?” Rae didn’t appear eager to take off without them.
“Do I detect a hint of concern?” Ferrin asked, swinging down from his horse.
Rae scowled. “Concerned you two will lose our supplies.”
“How very thoughtful of you,” Ferrin said, then smacked the back of her horse and sent it galloping. “We’ll be right behind you!”
Myron had already grabbed one of the crossbows from his saddle and handed the second to Ferrin. “I’ve had just about enough of these black-winged pigeons.” Swinging down off his horse, the former captain loaded his bow.
“You took the words right out of my mouth,” Ferrin said as he slid a wide-tipped bolt onto his. Both men moved their horses out of the open and behind some of the larger boulders at the side. Myron took up a position on the opposite wall as they waited for the corax to get within shooting range.
“Whatever you do,” Ferrin said, “don’t miss. This is our one chance to make a clean break without them knowing where we’re going.”
“So, no pressure, then.”
Ferrin chuckled, then focused, watching the corax slowly head their way.
Their wingspan was quite impressive, reminding Ferrin of the great wood owls he used to see at night in the forests near Rhowynn, nearly five feet from tip to tip. The birds closed the distance, their heads shifting right to left as they scanned the empty chasm below. The one on the left released a loud caw as they came within range.
The two creatures suddenly broke away, realizing they were being targeted.
Ferrin cursed, and the two men stepped out from behind the boulder and took aim.
Ferrin hit the release, and the bowstring thrummed. He heard Myron do the same. He held his breath and craned his neck to see if he’d hit anything. His bird shrieked and faltered as it slowly spun downward. Myron’s didn’t make a sound; it simply went stiff and fell.
“Yes!” Myron shouted.
Ferrin turned, and the two men started laughing. It had been a long time since they’d had a victory. If they could get through the pass, they could very well give those hunting them the slip.
“Blazes!” Myron pointed up at the sky.
Ferrin turned. The creature he’d hit had somehow righted itself and was flying off in the opposite direction. It was too far away to shoot now.
Ferrin wanted to throw his bow. He looked at Myron. “At least you killed yours. Remind me to find some time to practice with these stupid things.”
“I’m afraid time is the one thing we don’t have.”
Neither bothered reloading.
Ferrin swung back onto his horse and handed Myron the bow. “Hurry. Now that we’ve been spotted, it won’t take the corax long to report our whereabouts.” Ferrin dug his boots into his horse’s sides and took off.
Myron was right behind him.
“If we can make it across the bridge,” he shouted, “I might be able to use my sword to stop the Black Watch from following!”
“How do you plan on doing that?” Myron shouted back over the sound of the wind and horses’ hooves.
“By destroying it behind us.”
Both men leaned low across their horses’ necks, urging the animals on. Ferrin’s tired steed was having a hard time keeping pace. “Come on, old boy, hang in there,” he said, rubbing the animal’s neck. His hand came away wet with lather. “Hold on; it can’t be much farther.”
The pass continued to twist and turn as they went farther in, the tunnel of rock snaking toward Virn Run. If they could reach the other side before their
pursuers caught up, he could try cutting away the bridge’s supports to keep Cheeks and the bulradoer from crossing.
Ferrin cut his horse sharply around the next bend and yanked back on his reins to keep from colliding with Myron. The captain had stopped in the middle of the trail to keep from running over Rae and Suri, who were staring at the embankment ahead.
“What are you waiting . . .” Then he saw it.
The bridge was gone.
Chapter 82 | Ayrion
HALFWAY DOWN THE next tunnel, their light disappeared again, but this time, it didn’t seem to be coming back as quickly.
Whenever the darkness took over, Ayrion could feel the tension escalate, those around him jumping at every little thing, prayers coming from some, curses from others. “We’re getting close,” he said. The thunderous sound of water ahead was coming from around the next bend.
If not for their light going out, they probably wouldn’t have noticed the faint teal glow filtering in from the connecting passageway ahead. They moved forward to get a better look, stopping where their tunnel opened into a large cavern.
No one entered the chamber until the next reflector was in place. As soon as the light bounced off the standing mirror and into the cavern beyond, Ayrion waved them forward, making sure he was the first out of the tunnel.
The cavern was enormous. It was one of the most impressive things he’d ever seen, or at least that he could remember seeing. Along the walls, strange crystals jutted out from random outcroppings of rock. The crystals were clearly the source for the teal glow they had seen earlier, lighting the cavern to the point of them not needing their torches.
On the right wall, a waterfall cascaded down an open face of dark rock from a higher ledge above, pooling at the bottom, where it formed a small underground river that flowed across the entire length of the cavern, reaching the far-left wall. From there, it wound into a tunnel and disappeared beyond. Halfway between the waterfall and where the river disappeared into the left tunnel, a bridge spanned the water, allowing passage to the back half of the cavern.
“This place smells like rot and . . . and wet dog,” Abiah said, wrinkling his nose. “We’re clearly heading in the right direction.”
“That would be my guess.” Bek pointed at the array of bones scattered across the open rock between them and the river about thirty feet ahead. Some still had fresh pieces of flesh attached.
Ayrion scanned the empty room. Where were the vulraaks? Were they hiding in one of the other tunnels behind them, waiting for them to get trapped in this chamber before attacking? “Let’s set up another couple of mirrors here and here,” he said, pointing to two spots just outside the tunnel entrance. “I want to be able to aim that light in more than one direction at a time.”
Abiah worked with those holding the reflectors while Bek organized two groups to start a thorough search of the cavern.
Zynora was one of the last out of the tunnel, her daggers at the ready. They appeared almost natural in her hands. He wondered how many times she’d been forced to use them before now. Her Rhivanni arm cuffs gave her the appearance of an ancient warrior, battle hardened and ready for anything.
“Any sign of where they went?” she asked.
He shook his head.
Zynora looked around the cavern, studying the river as it moved from one side of the open chamber to the other. “Normally, I would say that’s a good thing, but we need to find them before the sun goes down.”
“I agree.” Ayrion headed for the bridge. It spanned one of the narrowest regions of the river, at least fifteen feet. The bridge was barely wide enough to fit three, shoulder to shoulder, but the wood was solid with no give at all as he walked across. He stopped about halfway and leaned over the railing, kicking a piece of rock into the quick-moving water below. He wondered how deep it was.
“I don’t understand,” Zynora said as she and Abiah joined him. “Where are they? They should have been here.”
“Perhaps we should have taken the other fork,” Abiah suggested.
“No,” Ayrion said, walking back to their side of the cavern and following the water back toward the pool at the bottom of the falls. “This is the most logical spot—fresh water, plenty of room, and by the size of those piles of carcasses back there, we’ve clearly found the nest.” Ayrion stared up at the rocky ledge, watching the water pour over the shelf in heavy sheets. “I don’t know why they’re not here.”
The spray from the waterfall felt cool on his face, his leather coat shimmering from the moisture building on the outer layer.
“We’ve searched every inch,” Abiah said, speaking loudly to be heard over the water. He pointed back toward the entrance. “The only way in is the way we came.”
“That’s not entirely true.” Ayrion pointed his sword in the direction of the waterfall. “We haven’t looked there.”
“Behind the falls?”
Ayrion nodded.
A group of villagers were already nearing the falls from the other side of the river, having made a partial sweep of the back half of the cavern. Ayrion waved at them and pointed in the direction of the water. They must have understood, because they immediately started climbing up the rock to a small shelf about ten or twelve feet off the main floor, which ran the entire length of the falls.
They worked their way along the back edge, weapons at the ready, until they were right up against the water. One of the men in front slipped and would have fallen headfirst into the pool below if not for the woman beside him grabbing hold of his clothing and pulling him back against the rock face.
Abiah huffed. “That was a close—”
The entire cavern suddenly went dark as the light from the reflectors behind them disappeared, leaving the chamber awash in the crystals’ light.
Abiah lifted his sword. “Makes my skin crawl every time it does that.”
Ayrion stepped forward to wave the searchers back, but before he could, the man at the front who’d almost fallen a moment ago was suddenly ripped off his feet and dragged into the cascading water. The lady beside him grabbed for his legs but only managed to hold on to his boot as she was thrown off the edge and into the pool below.
There was a short burst of horrific screaming from somewhere behind the falls, and then the water ran red as what was left of the man’s body was flung out of the spillway. The corpse almost landed on the woman in the pool. She screamed and swam as fast as she could to reach the far side, where Ayrion and others were standing.
Ayrion hopped down on the rocks leading to the pool and helped her out, handing her up to Abiah and some of the others who’d rushed over to see what was happening.
Up on the ledge, the search party nearly threw each other off as they fled back across the stone walkway and started climbing back down. They’d only made it about halfway when white bodies poured out from the falls behind them.
Ayrion’s heart nearly stopped.
One look at the vulraaks, and those still on the ledge threw themselves off without waiting for those in front to finish their climb. By the time they had all reached the bottom, more than half needed help just to walk, having sprained, twisted, or broken arms or legs in the process. A few managed to jump far enough to land in the pool, but most had landed on the cavern floor.
Bek and a second party of searchers were already running across the back half of the chamber toward the falls to help.
“On me!” Ayrion shouted as he hopped up from the pool and raced for the bridge.
The rest of their fighters ran to join him.
Bek and his team quickly grabbed those of the injured they could before the vulraaks descended on them, then ran for the bridge. Those left behind cried out for help, attempting to drag themselves to the water, hoping to throw themselves in before the creatures got them.
Ayrion hit the other side of the bridge at a full run, blades drawn. Abiah, Zynora, and their fighters were only a few steps behind. “Where is that flaming light?”
The vulraaks had
no problem leaping from the ledge down to the main floor of the cavern. Their bodies were stronger, more agile, and their lust for blood overpowered all other instincts.
Bek, with his long legs, was the first to reach Ayrion. He handed the injured woman he was carrying off to another villager behind them, grabbed his hatchets, and turned to catch up. Wrapped from head to toe in thick furs, and lips curled back like a rabid dog, the big trapper looked more frightening than the vulraaks.
Ayrion pushed out with his senses and let his magic take over as he lifted his swords and tore into the white creatures.
The vulraaks screeched and hissed as they reached for him with their claws. By the time his momentum had stopped, he was at least six or seven deep into their ranks. He cut down everything moving. His entire body became a weapon, its only purpose to kill vulraaks. Heads rolled, arms dropped, insides burst wide. Yet they kept coming.
It took a moment for the rest of his fighters to reach him. Bek made it the closest. Ayrion could hear the man growling as he chopped down one creature after another.
Above them, an enormous bellow rang out, echoing across the open rock. Out of the corner of his eye, Ayrion saw Argon raise his massive wedge of steel and leap from the ledge, cutting down three of Ayrion’s men with one swing.
“Retreat!” Ayrion shouted. “Get to the bridge!”
Argon swung his enormous blade through their ranks like a scythe to a row of wheat, reaping bodies with every pass. Those who didn’t die immediately, he crushed underfoot.
Ayrion fought near the front, holding as many of the creatures back as he could, giving his people a little more time. If they could just make it back into the tunnel on the other side, the narrow passage would give them at least a small chance at holding their enemy at bay.
Argon howled as he swung left and right, killing human and vulraak alike to reach Ayrion. Anything that got in his way died.
Where is that light?
Argon kicked a handful of vulraaks out of the way and swung his massive blade down at Ayrion’s head. The swords connected, sparks flying. The force of Argon’s swing should have driven Ayrion straight into the rock, but the magic of his blades absorbed it, leaving him with only a minimal tingling in his arms.
Plague of Shadows Page 61
