“I think you’re wrong. I think you’re rushing into this.”
Ronan’s face flushed. “Too fast? It’s been five years Rika. Five years we’ve allowed that monster to play king. Five years without a word from your father. He’s stripping our freedoms and watching every move we make. For Elan’s sake, your own people aren’t allowed to practice their religion because of him. He’s a murderer, and I won’t let him get away with it a day longer.”
Her eyes flashed with anger. “I know what Pride’s done, but we have to be smart.”
“I watched him butcher my mother! She bled to death in my arms, and I couldn’t do anything to stop him. Stay here if you want, but I’m killing that bastard tonight.” He started to stand.
She squeezed his hands. “Wait.”
Ronan paused before easing backward and settling onto the stone bench.
Rika closed her eyes and nodded. “I understand, and you’re not going to do this alone. I’m going with you.”
“We’ll find Patron after we deal with Pride. I promise,” he said.
“Okay. It’s settled. How do we get out of here?” She looked around the vault.
He faced the stone bench. “We’ll have to crawl for this next part.”
“Crawl?”
Ronan dropped to his hands and knees, crawled forward, and placed his palms flat against the smooth wall under the bench. “I hope this works.” Ronan pushed applying steady, even pressure, and the wall gave way. “Just a little more.” With a final push, the wall fell tipping inward with a heavy thud.
Cool damp air rushed over Ronan’s face.
“Rika, you’ll want that lamp. It’s dark in here.”
Rika took the oil lamp and placed it on the vault’s stone floor.
Ronan dropped to his stomach and inched forward. With his shard heightened eyesight, he cut through the veil of darkness.
Damp earthen walls lined a jagged tunnel that stretched twenty yards ahead.
Ronan stood and tossed aside the section of wall making room for Rika. He knelt and extended his hand. “Hand me the lamp Rika.”
She handed him the lamp and wriggled through the hole. Once free, she took Ronan’s hand and stood.
“This passage joins with others that crisscross Freehold. Stay close. It’s easy to get lost,” he said.
“What is this place?”
“It’s called the Shadow City. A network of rooms and passages running beneath Freehold. For centuries, it’s been used in many different ways. Most of them for no good. Slaves used it to escape the city, and slave traders used it to smuggle in Ayralens during the slave era. Now it’s used by thieves, drunks, or people looking to disappear. Occasionally, the city guard comes down here to sweep out the criminals and vagrants. Sometimes, an unlucky fortune hunter sneaks down here and gets lost wandering the passages.”
“Lost forever? You mean they die down here?”
“There are stories of ghosts that live in the Shadow City. If you believe that sort of thing.”
Rika’s eyes went wide. “Thieves I can handle. Ghosts I can’t. Do you know your way through here?”
“Well, let’s put it this way. I know my way to the palace. If we wander too far off the path it might get tricky.”
Rika inched closer to him. “Then don’t lose me in here. Got it?”
“Got it,” he said. “Let’s go.”
As they moved through the Shadow City, the passage twisted intersecting with small debris filled rooms. Forks in the passage forced decisions as did the occasional intersection. The tunnel’s floor shifted from stone to hard packed dirt. Trash heaps provided cover for beady-eyed rats that squeaked and scurried underfoot.
“This way,” Ronan said. “We go down these stairs and follow the passage to the left. Just past the room ahead.”
Rika placed her hand at the small of his back. “I’ll take your word for it.”
He descended the stairs and turned left.
Ahead, faint light came from the room around the corner.
Ronan froze and perked his ears stretching to pick up sound.
“Then I gave him to the count of ten, and you should’ve seen him run.” The man’s voice slurred heavy with drink.
“What happened next Sculley?” A second voice said.
“Shut up and let him finish,” another man said.
Ronan whispered into Rika’s ear. “There’s at least three men in the room ahead. We need to move through as fast as we can. Are you up for this?”
She placed the oil lamp on the ground and pulled her blades free. “I’m ready.”
“I’d like to reason with them before it comes to violence. You hide here.”
Rika’s eyes blazed with indignation. “Hide? What do you take me for? A girl? I can take care of myself Ronan Latimer.”
Ronan sighed. “Fine, fine. But, put those blades away. I’d rather just move past them.”
Rika sheathed her blades and picked up the lamp. “Alright, but at the first sign of trouble I’m bringing them out.”
Ronan channeled his power and directed an energy flow into his skin making it tough as armor. His body shimmered with yellow light that lingered before sinking into his skin. “Let’s go.”
The light grew brighter as the room came into full view. Huddled around a blazing fire, three men sat sharing a flask of liquor. The man holding the flask reclined in a makeshift chair built from broken crates and lined with dirty blankets. The other two men sat relaxed in similar chairs staring at the man holding the dirty flask.
Bottles, old chicken bones, broken bits of wood, and other debris littered the room.
Ronan relaxed. Vagrants. He strode into the dim firelight and paused. “Good evening gentlemen.”
The man holding the flask jumped, and clear booze spilled dribbling over his hand. “You always sneak up on people?”
“Sorry for the intrusion. We’re just passing through. You fellas can pretend like you never saw us,” Ronan said.
Three sets of hungry eyes ignored Ronan’s words and directed their stares on Rika.
“Look at her Sculley. I’ve never seen a woman that pretty. We can have some fun with her.”
“Shut up Vince. Is that any way to treat a lady?” Sculley stood and offered the flask to Rika. “Would you care for a drink? Don’t mind the mess. We were just having a little party. Come sit by the fire and talk. We have plenty to drink.”
“No. Thank you. As my friend mentioned, we need to pass through,” she said.
Sculley’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not very hospitable. We’re trying to be friendly.”
“Sculley, I don’t think we have enough drinks for everybody. How about we get rid of her boyfriend first. Then we can have some fun with the girl,” a voice from behind Ronan said.
Ronan’s chest tightened as he felt a sharp pinch in his lower back. He spun as Rika screamed.
A thin greasy man wearing an assortment of armor held a knife to Rika’s throat while another man lunged toward Ronan.
Ronan pulled the knife free from his scabbard and faced his attacker.
The hulking man attacking Ronan wore a mishmash of ill-fitting armor pieces that appeared scavenged from the depths of the Shadow City. He towered six inches over Ronan, but his expression conveyed one of shock as he stared with confusion at the broken blade in his hand. The dagger had snapped against Ronan’s shard toughened skin leaving bits of shattered blade scattered near his feet.
Ronan channeled his power tripling his strength, speed, and coordination. “Tell your friend to let the girl go, otherwise, this won’t end the way you imagine. I promise you that.”
The second thug ignored Ronan’s threat and joined the giant attacking Ronan. He jerked a steel short sword from a worn wooden scabbard and crouched into a fighting stance. “What happened to your blade Arvas?”
“I dunno,” the big man said. “It must have caught up in his armor or something. It might’ve been cracked. I’ll take his blade after he’s dead.”
Ron
an’s hand blurred as he thrust his knife upward sinking into Arvas’s right eye. Before Arvas could react, Ronan yanked his blade free and spun on the bandit holding the short sword.
Arvas screamed in agony clutching his eye as he dropped to the ground. Blood poured from the cracks between his fingers. “My eye! He stabbed my bloody eye!”
The man holding Rika stared open mouthed as his friend writhed screaming on the ground. Rika reached for the blades sheathed at her legs, pulled them free, and sliced at the arm holding her neck.
Rika’s blade whiffed, as the man moved his arm releasing her from his grip. Once free, she spun and confronted her attacker.
The man leered, and a greasy smile spread across his stubbled face. “You like it rough. I like it rough too. Let’s see if you can use those blades.”
Her eyes blazed with ferocity, and a wicked grin stretched across her face. “What’s your name?”
“They call me Needles.” He pulled free a pair of poniards whose tips gleamed in the fire light.
She cocked her head. “Well Needles, didn’t your mother teach you how to treat a lady? You need to learn better manners.” She jumped up swinging her foot in an upward arc toward his face.
The tip of her boot connected with his mouth, and his head snapped back. Needles staggered backward as a gash of blood ran from his torn lip.
Using her momentum, Rika sent a back roundhouse kick at the side of his head.
Needles sidestepped the kick and counterattacked with a blade thrust to Rika’s chest.
She dodged, and the blade missed her chest sinking through her leather armor landing a puncture wound to her shoulder.
She screamed grabbing her shoulder as blood ran from the wound.
In a blur, Ronan burst across the room leaping toward Needles propelling his heavy boots into Needle’s spine.
A bone-jarring crack cut the air, and Needles fell in a heap as his legs no longer supported his weight.
The attacker with the short sword stood wide-eyed staring at Ronan in fear. His forgotten sword arm trembled. “What are you?”
“Run,” Ronan said.
The man dropped his sword and bolted. He disappeared around the corner, and the sound of his rattling armor faded into the Shadow City’s murky depths.
“Let me see your shoulder. Are you okay?” Ronan said.
“I’m fine. It’s just a scratch.” She moved her arm around in its socket.
“I think I’ve got a handkerchief we can use to tie it off.” He searched his pockets.
“Ronan! Look out!” Rika said.
Footsteps echoed behind him, and he dropped to the ground.
Rika sent her blade spinning end-over-end at the giant named Arvas. Her dagger landed with a sickening crunch sinking into Arvas’s left eye.
A guttural scream filled the small room. “I’m blind. You stupid bitch. You blinded me!” Arvas said.
“Are you still interested in partying with her? She might leave you so drunk you can’t see straight,” Ronan said.
Sculley stood motionless, the flask of booze still clutched in his white knuckled hand. “Look mister. I’m sorry for any trouble, and I sure don’t want any myself. How about you just pass through like you said earlier?”
“You know what Sculley? That’s the best advice I’ve heard from you yet.” Ronan said. “I think your friends want to hear the rest of your story.”
“Yeah Sculley. What happens next?” A vagrant seated by the fire said.
“Shut up and maybe he’ll tell you,” the other vagrant said.
Sculley stared in shocked disbelief and nodded. “Yeah. I think that’s a good idea.”
Arvas writhed on the floor next to an unconscious Needles. “Please kill me. I can’t live like this,” Arvas said.
Sculley staggered to his seat and sank into his chair. He stared motionless into the fire.
Ignoring Arvas, Sculley, and the vagrants, Ronan tied a handkerchief around Rika’s wounded shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go.”
Rika picked up the oil lamp and followed Ronan through a passageway beyond Sculley’s fire.
They continued onward following a confusing maze of twists and turns for another quarter hour. The corridor sloped downward then narrowed forcing Ronan and Rika to crouch.
“That’s it. Up ahead,” Ronan said.
The earthen tunnel continued forward without a visible end in sight.
“Up ahead where?” Rika peered into the darkness. “It just keeps going.”
Ronan stopped and placed his palms flat against the ceiling. “There’s a trapdoor here. You have to be looking or you’ll miss it.”
A wooden panel appeared under his hands blending in with the dirt ceiling surrounding it. Ronan pressed upward, and the panel loosened. He slid it sideways where it disappeared inside a hidden slot.
Dim light streamed through the opening revealing a tube extending fifteen feet upward. With walls made of stone and built-in iron rungs, the tunnel provided secret access to the palace.
“Leave the lamp. We should have enough light,” Ronan said.
Rika extinguished the oil lamp leaving it on the ground.
He grabbed an iron rung and pulled himself upward beginning the short climb. After the first few rungs, he whispered to Rika. “Stay quiet. Shard knights are always listening for assassins.”
She nodded her agreement and followed him up the ladder.
As they reached the ladder’s top, the light grew brighter revealing the beginning of a corridor.
Ronan paused where the ladder intersected a shadowy corridor and waited for Rika.
Torchlight filtering through cracks showed a passage curving from the ladder in a single direction.
Ronan pulled himself upward, turned, and extended a hand to Rika.
Pain etched Rika’s face as she took Ronan’s hand and pulled herself into the passage next to him.
A heavy ache settled in Ronan’s chest. The wound she’d suffered in the Shadow City looked worse than she’d first admitted. He cupped his hand to her ear and whispered. “This passage circles the western guardhouse. We’ll follow this for a bit. Just go slow. Knights stand guard on the other side of this wall.”
She nodded once. The blood soaked handkerchief wrapped around her shoulder dripped, and the droplets rolled along her armor before spattering on the wooden floor.
His stomach writhed with worry. Her wound needed cleaning and stitches, but he’d never get this opportunity again, and she couldn’t go back without him. She’d never make it alone. With steel determination, he pressed onward.
Beyond the stone wall, many plate mail boots rattled echoing from the rough guardhouse floor. The sound of creaking armor stopped, and a deep voice barked muffled orders.
Ronan stood still as a statue and focused on the deep muffled voice.
“The city is on full lock down. That means not a single citizen, wagon, boat, or soldier enters or leaves Freehold until we apprehend the criminals. You are to search all wagons and boats requesting entry or exit from the city.” The voice said.
Ronan shuddered. He’d expected this, but watching the impact on real people left a bitter taste in his mouth.
“The king has ordered a house-to-house search. As you pass by the exit, examine the sketch and memorize the faces. They should be considered armed and dangerous. One of them has stolen and used an enhancement shard. You should not approach them alone.”
“Did His Majesty indicate where they might be hiding?” Another voice said.
“Our sources believe the girl is Ayralen, so we’ll start with the Ayralen district. You’re to search every house inside and out, and conduct your search in any manner necessary to produce results,” the captain said.
Ronan’s skin tingled, and his stomach sank. He and Rika had made friends in the Ayralen district, and they’d pay for his theft. He and Rika lived inside the Ayralen district, and Rika poured hours of love and care into building their home. That Pride’s barbarians would toss their
memories like a trash heap both enraged and nauseated him.
“What about Meranthian homes?”
“Your search should not exclude Meranthian homes, but you’re to use minimal force during the inspection.”
Rika’s hand pressed against his lower back signaling him to keep moving. His face flushed with anger, but he lowered his head and pressed forward.
A heavy wooden ladder appeared ahead.
Ronan moved beneath the rickety ladder and traced it upward.
The ladder rose four floors straight up intersecting every floor along the way. Rika and Ronan wouldn’t stop until they reached the top floor.
Ronan grabbed the ladder and climbed.
Rika came after him, but she made slow progress. The right side of her leather tunic appeared soaked with blood, and her face looked a shade lighter than a few minutes earlier.
His senses screamed at him to turn back. She looked ready to collapse, but they’d moved beyond the point of return.
They reached the top floor without incident. The shadowy passage leading behind the royal wing stretched out empty and silent.
Ronan crept along the corridor taking extra care with each step. He channeled his power listening for any sound near him and picked up nearby voices.
Two rooms ahead, in the king’s private drawing room, two men carried on a placid conversation.
Ronan recognized Pride’s voice. Like a snake slithering through a hole he didn’t wander far from the nest. He whispered to Rika. “I hear voices in the drawing room ahead. I think it’s him. We’ll wait until he’s alone. Are you ready?”
Perspiration beaded her forehead, and lines of sweat streaked her face. “Let’s make this fast.”
Her skin grew paler by the minute. She’d lost too much blood. He’d carry her over his shoulder when they left. “Why don’t you wait here? You look ready to drop.”
She shook her head. “I’m not leaving you. Go.”
Through cracks and watch holes, light flowed from the drawing room casting dim light in the tight passage. The sound of male voices carried through the thin wall without need of shard magic.
Ronan eased into place behind a watch hole while Rika took position behind another hole next to his.
The stately furnishings and decorations of the royal drawing room snapped into focus. The pasty white figures of Merric Pride and Lord Niles Randal sat across from each another engaged in easy conversation.
Shard Knight (Echoes Across Time Book 1) Page 10
