by Jon F. Merz
“May as well try,” said Cassandra. “Who knows? It might even work.”
Ran rapped on the door three times and waited. The knocks echoed painfully loud back into the tunnel. Ran grimaced at the thought of the sound carrying deep below and drawing the attention of the invaders. But it couldn’t be helped. If there was any possibility of opening the door that way, they had to try it.
But after several minutes, nothing happened. The iron door remained as immovable as ever.
“So much for that,” said Cassandra. “Let’s try to figure out the mechanism for opening it.” She looked at the hinges on the door and then backtracked toward the wall, running her hands over the rocks. “There’s some sort of channel that runs along the wall. But it’s been covered over with some type of plaster or baked earth.”
“Where does it lead back to?”
Cassandra kept moving, and Ran saw she was getting close to the tunnel that Iqban had fled down. She stopped and looked back at Ran. “It leads in there.”
Ran held up his hand and then came away from the door. If anyone was going into the tunnel, it would be him. With Iqban on the loose, there was no telling what might be hiding inside the tunnel. “Stay here with Kuva. And help yourself to a weapon from one of the dead guys there. If we run into trouble here or outside, you’ll need something.”
Cassandra nodded. Ran entered the tunnel and kept his free hand on the wall. The princess was correct. Ran could feel the channel beneath his hand, and he followed it deeper into the tunnel. He halfway expected Iqban to jump out at him at any moment and try to kill him, but he sensed nothing else moving with him in the tunnel. For the moment, it appeared as though they were safe.
The channel ended abruptly as Ran’s hand grazed an outcropping of metal. He looked closer and saw that it was a knob of some sort. He tried turning it, but it didn’t move. Peering closer, he saw a small keyhole at its base.
Locked.
He frowned and retreated back into the cavern. Cassandra looked up as he came back.
“Find anything?”
“Yes,” said Ran. “It leads to a knob that you can turn to presumably open the door.”
“So why didn’t you open it?”
“Because it needs a key.”
Kuva groaned. “Wonderful. I’m guessing there wasn’t a key by the knob?”
“No,” said Ran. “I’m assuming someone else has it. Perhaps Iqban. That would explain why he ran away. He still had a card to play, it appears.”
Cassandra came closer to him. “What about your skill in picking locks? I’ve seen you do it several times now. Could you pick that lock by the knob?”
Ran took a breath. His ribs ached. “There’s a chance I could, but it’s going to require tools I don’t really have.” In truth, he’d never seen a keyhole that looked like the one by the knob. Even with his expertise, part of him wondered if he’d be able to pick the lock.
Kuva cleared his throat. “Ran, if you’ve got any sort of chance of getting through that lock, I suggest you explore it. And fast.”
Ran looked up. Kuva was pointing back down the tunnel.
“More sounds of battle down there. But it’s getting closer. A lot closer.”
“How much time, do you think?”
“Depends on the people fighting, but I wouldn’t think we have more than ten minutes. We need to get out of here.”
Ran placed a hand on Cassandra’s arm. “Stay with him. If I can get the door open, you two get out of here. Don’t worry about me. I’ll catch up.”
Cassandra started to protest, but then stopped. Instead she smiled. “I won’t insult you by insisting that I stay behind. I know you’d have Kuva carry me out of here by force if necessary.”
“I care for you too much to let anything bad happen to you. You know that.”
“I do.” She leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “Do your best, Ran. But hurry up.” She glanced over at Kuva and then back with a grin. “Kuva’s not really my type.”
The big man grunted. “I heard that.”
Ran chuckled to himself and then headed back into the side tunnel. Once he was back at the knob, he drew out the slim lock picks he carried inside of his tunic waist band and set to work examining the lock. He slotted in one of the pieces of curved metal and then a straighter one, carefully raking them along what he judged to be the pins of the lock. He tested their springiness and then drew the picks back out before retrying it. This time he felt the pins move individually, and as he moved each into its respective place, he heard the clicks that told him he was on the right path.
Squatting down was making his ribs hurt like hell, though. Sweat poured down his face, and Ran had to use his arm to wipe it away from his eyes twice. He licked his lips and kept pushing the pins into place, hoping that his efforts would soon release the knob.
Two minutes later, Ran felt like he’d reached the last of the pins and slowly drew his tools out of the keyhole. He looked down at the knob and willed that it would move when he place his hand over it and turned.
Here goes nothing, he thought. He wrapped his hand around the knob and twisted.
It moved.
Almost instantly, he heard commotion from back in the chamber. A slow creaking told him that the door must have started to open.
“Ran!”
Cassandra’s voice made his heart leap. “Coming!”
He started back up toward the chamber. They were so close to escape now, he could taste his freedom.
So fixated was he on getting back to Cassandra that he never saw the shadow come up behind him and knock him on the back of the head with the pommel of a sword.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Ran awoke to blackness and movement. The thudding pain in the back of his head and lurching motion made him retch. But he managed to keep control over his rolling stomach after the initial shock had worn off. The bouncing motion made his ribs hurt even more, however. They were in another tunnel. Ran’s hands were bound behind him. and his ankles were also well-trussed. But who carried him? And who had knocked him out?
“Where am I?”
“Stay quiet or I’ll slit your throat right now.”
Ran closed his mouth. The voice was vaguely recognizable, but in the harsh whisper, Ran couldn’t be quite sure who had spoken. Still, he suspected it was Iqban. As they continued to travel, the man grew tired, and his breathing became increasingly labored. Finally, he was forced to put Ran down against the wall of the tunnel. “You’re heavier than you appear, especially for one as compact as you are.”
“Muscle is heavy,” said Ran. “And I make sure I don’t grow fat.”
“No doubt,” said the voice, a little louder now. “I should have killed the woman when I had the chance.”
Ran frowned. “Iqban? We thought you would have fled to places unknown by now.”
“And risk running into those things that invaded Zal’s lair? Not a chance. At least, I couldn’t afford to do that when I was alone. But with you as my prisoner, I now have something of value to offer them.”
“Why would they care about me?” asked Ran. “I’m nothing to them.”
Iqban laughed. “There’s more to you than meets the eye. That much is certain. I’ve traveled far and wide and have met many so-called wandering warriors. You are like them in some ways, but there is also something special about you. I watched you pick the lock on the knob. Such skills as that required are far beyond most warriors.”
“My uncle was a thief, the scourge of his family,” said Ran. “But he managed to teach me a few things when I used to visit him. Nothing special about that.”
“Most thieves couldn’t have picked that lock,” said Iqban. “It was commissioned especially for the door to his kingdom, and Zal insisted it be as impervious to compromise as possible. And yet you had it open in under five minutes. It was most impressive.”
“I got lucky,” said Ran. He glanced around the tunnel and wondered how far they could have trave
led in the time he’d been unconscious. He heard no other sounds. It was possible that Iqban knew other tunnels and had moved them far away from the main doorway. Kuva and Cassandra were hopefully long gone.
“Luck is for fools,” said Iqban. “In this world, you either make your own luck or else you die working for someone else. No, my friend, you have skills that far exceed what most common warriors are capable of. And there is, I think, some terrific value in that fact.”
“And you think those things—whatever invaded this place—are going to barter my life for yours?”
“Those things are the Mung. A race of underdwellers who are incredibly formidable in the close confines of the tunnels they inhabit. But they also have ambition. Grand ambition. And a desire to rule far more than just the paltry domain they have long existed in. Zal was the first to see the world above as a target worthy of conquering. But his plans for that very thing fell apart, and he was exiled by his people. Zal still dreams of conquest, of course, but he is nothing if he can’t first get back control of the Mung kingdom.”
“I still fail to see how they will grant you life in exchange for me. Why won’t they simply kill you as well? After all, the prospect of being eaten by them back in the main cavern seemed to spook you enough into letting Cassandra go.”
“Fear is a temporary thing bested by the logic of a rational mind, provided it has a chance to think things through. I was startled, yes, but only because I didn’t know what was going on below. I thought it might have been that awful beast Bagyo rampaging.”
“Bagyo is dead. I killed him.”
Iqban smirked in the darkness, but Ran could see the whites of his teeth somewhat. “That is a relief. I hated that creature.”
“It was unfortunate that I had to kill him,” said Ran. “But he left me no choice, so I did it as quickly as possible.”
“And seemingly without much effort,” said Iqban. “Another indicator that you are something special.”
“I’m not,” said Ran. His side ached, and he shifted. “So what happens now? I don’t imagine this is a good place to sit and wait for the Mung to come and find you. What’s your plan?”
“I’m going to cut your legs free and then you’re going to get up and walk. I’m not carrying you any longer. If you try to escape, I’ll be forced to kill you.”
Ran shrugged. “But if I don’t try to escape and you hand me over to the Mung, I’ll be as good as dead anyway. So what do I have to lose?”
“They may not kill you,” said Iqban.
“Why not?”
“Because you’re worth more alive. And if they decide to ransom you, they would stand to make many times your weight in gold.”
Ran laughed in the darkness. “No one would pay for me. I’m worth nothing to anyone.”
Iqban chuckled. “You may as well give up that line of talk. As I said, I have traveled many places. I’m aware of what the Murai warriors of Nehon are like. I’m also aware of another sect of warriors from that island nation. And they are nothing like their Murai counterparts.”
Ran frowned. How could Iqban have known?
“I know there are plenty of lords across the world who would love to have an actual shadow warrior in their possession. You have long been sought by those you steal secrets from. No doubt one of them would pay handsomely for a chance at vengeance.”
“What in the world is a shadow warrior?”
Iqban sniffed. In the dark, there was a flash of steel, and Ran felt his legs freed. “You can stand now and walk on your own. As I said, don’t give me an excuse to kill you.”
“If you did, your chance at bargaining with the Mung would also die.”
“There are other ways to the surface than just through the main door,” said Iqban. “It might take me several days to reach the surface, but I could.”
“And your chances are slim with the Mung prowling about.” Ran got his legs under him and stood up, nearly wincing from the pain in his side. “But I won’t try anything.”
Iqban steered him away from the tunnel wall and then prodded him in the back. Ran grunted as he did so, but Iqban hadn’t noticed that his captive was in pain just yet. “Let’s get a move on. I want to put some space between us and your friends back at the main door.”
“They won’t leave me behind,” said Ran.
Iqban laughed. “Are you so sure? Once that big door is open, the temptation to simply flee will be a powerful one. How well do you know your friends?”
“Well enough to know that in spite of me telling them to leave, they won’t.” Ran glanced around as they walked, but none of the blue torches burned here. Iqban seemed to be steering them along based on memory alone or some other intuitive guide. But where were they headed?
“I should have recognized your abilities far sooner than this. I could have easily extracted more gold from Zal if I had done so.”
“Why would Zal care about what supposedly you think I am?” asked Ran.
“Zal is a fool,” said Iqban. “But he also appreciates a mighty warrior. We’ll see whether or not he survives long enough to care about what I do with you next.”
“I don’t think the Mung will want anything to do with me.”
Iqban chuckled. “You don’t know them very well.”
“And you do? I thought you worked for Zal.”
“I work,” said Iqban, “for whoever pays me the most. My motivations in life are simple and uncomplicated.”
Ran sighed. “I’m sure Zal would be most upset if he heard you say that. What about loyalty?”
“Allow me to give you some valuable advice. Loyalty is overrated. In fact, it’s far too expensive to ever consider buying in the first place. Money, however, keeps a man honest and law-abiding until such time as he can make more elsewhere. It simplifies life. Once you understand that people are motivated by their own greed alone and that anything other allegiance is mere illusion, you will know how to make your way in this world far better than those supposed zealots who think their cause is just and honorable.”
Ran shook his head. “I’m not entirely sure what you just spewed there, because all I heard were a few attempts to justify being a two-sided money-grubber.”
“Why stop at two sides?” asked Iqban.
Ran sighed. “Indeed.”
“Zal pays me well, but I’ve always had an eye out for other opportunities. When I learned what Zal was doing, I was the one who contacted the Mung directly.”
“How did you do that? I thought they were sealed below ground?”
Iqban laughed again. “If that were true, then Zal would never have gotten to this place. I knew there had to be another route into the Mung kingdom. It took me some time, but I located it. The Mung were initially hostile, but eventually we reached an understanding.”
“If you’re so friendly with the Mung, then why did you flee earlier when I told you what we’d do if you killed Cassandra?”
“I had to give you an excuse to separate from your friends. I knew about the locking mechanism. I also knew that if my suspicions were correct, you would confirm them and then I’d have you.”
Ran frowned. He’d written Iqban off as a scared fool, but the slaver had outwitted him. And now he had Ran right where he wanted him. Wherever that was.
“So what happens if Zal finds out about your treachery?”
“I’d imagine he wouldn’t be too pleased,” said Iqban. “Unfortunately for him, his hired army is in ruins, and even now the Mung will be closing in on him—if he’s not dead already.”
“And you’re taking me where?”
“To the Mung.”
“Wonderful,” said Ran. Even as he said this, the tunnel started to slope downward at a steep angle. The air grew a lot warmer as well. So much so that sweat began dripping from his face as they walked. “Is it always this hot down here?”
“It will pass,” said Iqban. “The conditions are much more temperate as we go.”
Ran glanced over his shoulder, trying to figure
out what direction they could have come from. If there was a chance that Kuva and Cassandra were trying to find him, could he leave any sign behind that he’d come this way?
“Don’t bother,” said Iqban. “We’re in another tunnel altogether. I highly doubt your friends will be able to locate the entrance, let alone follow it to its conclusion. And even if they did, they would be walking right into the heart of the Mung empire. Hardly the sort of thing I’d expect them to embark upon.”
Ran frowned. He’d urged Kuva and Cassandra to flee the catacombs, but a part of him—a big part of him—wished desperately that they were searching for him. His chances of survival seemed to be dwindling by the minute the farther they got away from the main door of the catacombs and closer to the Mung kingdom. How would anyone find him? He could die down here, and no one—not one single member of his clan—would ever know what had happened to him.
The clan would think he had vanished. Or would they? Perhaps they might think he had deserted them. He might even be branded a traitor, and history itself might not look kindly upon his exploits. He was a new operative, but he had managed to defeat Kan-Gul. And even though he’d started this journey by disregarding clan orders, he was back in the very area they had wanted him to journey to.
He realized that his loyalty to the Nine Daggers was still firmly fixed in his heart, even though he longed to be with Cassandra. His clan had given him everything. It would be much harder than he had thought to turn his back on them.
“You’re rather quiet,” said Iqban.
“I’m just thinking about how many ways I could kill you,” said Ran.
Iqban laughed. “You won’t get the chance, I’m afraid. Once I’m rewarded by the Mung for my assistance in helping them initiate their attack on Zal, I’ll sell you to them and take my leave. I’m thinking this part of the world might be a little too violent for my taste for some time to come. Perhaps a journey farther west is advisable.”
“Why would you say that?”
“The Mung aren’t the only people with designs of conquest. There are others far more powerful than the Mung who have long eyed the southern realms with envy and desire. I’ve heard rumors of a massive army to the north of these very mountains that is massing as we speak.”
