by Hazel Hunter
“Is everything okay?” Gillian asked.
“No,” he said simply.
“It’s too quiet,” Shayne said.
Gillian stared at each of them in turn, then glanced all around them.
“Since when?” she asked. The food in her stomach felt like a lead weight.
“An hour ago,” they both said.
Gillian flinched. Every step of the way, they had been dogged by Templars.
Mathias climbed to his feet, giving Gillian a hand up.
“Whoever or whatever is out there, they’re keeping their distance.”
Gillian glanced at Shayne.
“I’m not going to be your bait again,” she said. “Waiting for you to kill four Templars while I sit at the fire is quite enough.”
“What a coincidence,” Shayne retorted. “I was just going to say the same thing. Luring one siren was quite enough.”
Gillian grinned a little, glancing at Mathias.
“Guess it’ll have to be you, then. You’re handsome enough for it.”
Mathias smiled a little at that, his eyes hooded.
“Expect to see it in my fee,” he said smoothly.
Though they resumed the trail, Gillian could feel it as well. They were being watched. She found herself almost trying to tiptoe, so as not to make noise. But then a low whistle almost had her leaping out of her skin. She turned to see Shayne whistling at the sky. But in moments, Vlasti had found her way to the little group, and settled on Shayne’s wrist.
“There you are, lovely girl,” Shayne said affectionately. “What do you think? You want to find hunters for me?”
“Can she really do that?” asked Gillian.
“She’s not trained, per se,” he said, stroking the back of her head. “But we have an understanding.”
With a gentle motion, he sent her aloft. Gillian watched as she scooped the air in her wings a few times. Then she was gone.
“Kabarik is flanking us,” Mathias said, indicating the middle of the narrow canyon. “Let’s not lose more time.” He waved for them to follow, as he picked a path against the cliff face.
“Are we going to be late?” Gillian asked quietly, half-joking as she fell in behind him.
“We want to reach the caves by sunset,” he said over his shoulder.
“Caves?”
There hadn’t been anything in her research about caves.
“It’s the best way between here and there,” Mathias said.
The sun was sinking, turning the sky above the canyon indigo and violet. In another time and place, Gillian would have been stunned by the natural beauty. But knowing they were being watched spoiled that. The changing light cast softer shadows, and for a moment Gillian wasn’t sure what she was seeing. Ruins?
“Look,” she said.
The low rocks scattered across the valley’s floor weren’t rocks. They were pedestals, worn smooth over time, but spaced in a rectangular pattern. Gillian ran to the nearest one and knelt.
Two round slabs of stone sat atop a square one that was partially buried. On the sides of the square one were faint engravings. Gillian brushed with her fingers, carefully digging through the soft dirt. Barely legible, she could at least recognize the script as Coptic.
“Can you read it?” asked Mathias.
She pointed to one word that immediately leaped out at her.
“See these characters here? I know I’ve seen them before. They’re often used to denote a person of power.”
“Like a king or a general?” asked Shayne.
Gillian grinned. “Like a sorcerer.”
She sat back on her heels, staring at it for a moment, before gazing at the others. It was the culmination of five years of work, hope, and guesses.
“I can’t believe I’m here,” Gillian said softly.
The utter quiet was pierced by Vlasti’s scream.
Shayne and Mathias’s reactions were instantaneous. Each grabbed an arm and were hauling her back to the cliff face. A shot rang out and ricocheted from the pedestal. Two more kicked up the dirt where they’d just been.
“Next time you want to see a ruin,” Shayne said, “ask.”
“But–”
“The caves,” Mathias said as they hugged the cliff, crouching low.
A coiled rope hit the ground behind Shayne. It led up the cliff past an overhang. Shayne whirled to her and Mathias.
“Take her,” he said. “I got this.”
Without waiting to hear a response, he stepped from the cliff face, and sent a stream of flame at the rope. Gillian felt herself yanked backward. She and Mathias broke into a run.
A shrill cat yelp came from the other side of the canyon.
“Kabarik?” Mathias said, though he never broke stride.
A wailing, unearthly howl was his only answer.
“Gods!” Gillian said. “We have to–”
“Don’t stop,” Mathias yelled.
But in the next second, she had no choice. Heavy netting dropped on top of her. She tripped and hurtled toward the ground. She crashed to her side, only to have her world upended. The net was being dragged. Max squealed, clawed his way out of her pocket, and disappeared. Ropes pressed into Gillian’s back and jackknifed legs.
“Mathias!” she finally managed.
She had no idea where he was. The net was hoisted in the air.
A bright blue bolt of what looked like lightning exploded above her. She dropped to the ground, knocking the air from her lungs. Frantically, she tried to unravel the ropes. She realized there were hands trying to help her. But when she looked up, it wasn’t Mathias.
A man in a white turban, his face covered by a white scarf, loomed above her. A curved knife appeared in his hand. He brought it down.
“No!” she screamed.
But his wide swipe sliced at the ropes, parting them as though they were string. A rough hand seized the front of her tunic and yanked her up. Though Gillian gripped the man’s arm, he was incredibly strong. As he hauled her to the cliff face, she did the only thing she could––she bit his hand.
He cried out and shoved her away. The back of her head smacked the rock. Her knees wobbled and tiny lights sailed around the perimeter of her vision.
“No,” she breathed. Don’t pass out.
A second masked man appeared. Was it double vision? She realized it wasn’t when the first man shoved her back into a standing position, and the second brought a rope. The end was singed.
“Math–”
The back of someone’s hand caught her across the face. A large loop of rope dropped over her, past her shoulders, and tightened around her middle. The second man cinched it tight––so tight she couldn’t breathe. It jerked her in the air, doubling her over. A blast of fire scorched the air below her. The two men screamed horribly just as the cliff face behind her exploded. She was dropping again, nearly unconscious, waiting to hit, when strong arms snatched her from the air.
“Go!” Mathias yelled.
She was pitched over someone’s broad shoulder and backpack. Shayne’s? The ground sailed by as she was jounced this way and that. The light disappeared.
“Do it!” Shayne yelled.
The shadowed ground around his feet was lit with a blue light so bright that Gillian closed her eyes. There was an enormous explosion, the concussion rocking Shayne. She heard men screaming in the distance. A great rumbling roar filled her ears. Despite having nearly lost her senses, she knew what it had to be.
CHAPTER EIGHT
WHEN THE RUMBLING finally stopped, the coughing began. Though Gillian could barely get a breath, slung over Shayne’s shoulder, there had to be billows of dust around them.
“A little light?” Mathias said, between coughs. Instantly the ground was lit with an orange glow. “Oh my god, is she–”
“I don’t know,” Shayne rasped.
In moments he had her on the floor and was kneeling next to her.
“Gillian,” he said. Something bright swam in her vision, and
Gillian realized it was a fireball. “Can you hear me?”
She blinked and managed to pull Shayne’s face into focus. His hands were at the side of her face.
“Can you–”
“Yes,” she whispered. She coughed a little. “Yes. I can hear you.”
Shayne closed his eyes and bowed his head. “Oh, thank the gods,” he murmured. He drew her gently to his chest. “Thank the gods.”
“Friends of yours?” Mathias said.
Shayne separated from her, and they looked up at him. The carefree demeanor was long gone.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Shayne said, standing.
“They were pretty well equipped,” Mathias said.
“Funny that,” Shayne said, his hands balling into fists. “I was going to point out the same thing.”
Gillian got unsteadily to her feet.
“Did you see them?” she asked. “Either of you?”
“You mean before I turned them into crispy critters?” Shayne said.
“I zapped three to never-never land,” Mathias said, as though it was a competition.
“Stop it!” Gillian said, startling them. “That’s really the last thing we need right now.” She glanced back at the entrance. “I saw them. I don’t know what passes for a Templar here, but they looked more like desert ninjas than anything else.”
“I’ve never seen anything quite like it before,” Shayne said, calming down. He jutted his chin at Mathias. “You?”
Mathias shook his head. “No. And I’ve never seen Templars, if that’s what they were, go to such lengths not to kill a Wiccan.”
“Welcome to my world,” Shayne said.
Gillian thought of the net that had fallen on her, of being hoisted up like some trapped animal. Her hand flew to her mouth, and she gasped.
“Max!” she said.
She took a step toward the blocked tunnel entrance, before Mathias stepped in front of her.
“There’s no point,” he said. “We can’t go back that way.” Though the light from the flickering fireball over there heads didn’t cast far, Mathias followed her gaze. “They’re on their own.”
Gillian remembered the awful shriek that had seemed to come from his familiar.
“Kabarik?” she whispered.
Mathias grimaced. “I don’t know,” was all he said.
They simply stood for several moments. The loss of a familiar was like the loss of a family member. Shayne came to her side and took a gloved hand. He lightly grasped Mathias’s shoulder.
“We need to keep moving,” he said quietly.
Gillian sighed.
As one they turned to the darkness. Shayne lit two more fireballs.
“It’s not just a cave,” he said, awe in his voice. “It’s a tunnel. An enormous one.”
But while he and Mathias looked up, she looked down. She crouched in place.
“Someone built it,” Gillian said. “A very long time ago.”
Though the floor was covered with a thick layer of dust, it was tiled. She could see how worn it was, as if thousands of steps had polished it––steps that now included theirs.
“We’re closer to Tenebris,” she said softly.
They moved forward in the darkness together, Shayne’s flames lighting the way for them. The air grew chilly, and there was a dampness to it that there hadn’t been before.
“I smell water,” Mathias said. “With any luck, we’ll be able to find something we can drink.”
Without warning, the fireball lit a large chamber in front of them. Shayne gestured Gillian and Mathias to stop. Mathias stepped in front of her. Watching anxiously from the tunnel, she could see that the space was enormous, easily many stories tall. When she glanced up, the top of the cavern was lost to darkness. But there was a glimmer to the walls that made her think of quartz crystal.
Mathias, however, had seen something else.
“Water,” he said pointing. “Thank all the gods.”
Perfectly still, the dark surface reflected the firelight like a mirror.
Shayne returned, nodding.
“It looks safe. The only openings are this one and another tunnel on the other side.”
Whether it was the size of the vaulted space or the profound quiet, Gillian felt like she was entering a church. She and Mathias followed Shayne to the wall on the far side, where they all took off their packs. Shayne lit a large fire while Mathias took a filter and two canteens to the water.
Only now did Gillian realize that dank chill surrounded them. Only a few feet from the fire, the temperature was uncomfortably cool. Shayne used some of their remaining water to make some tea. When Mathias returned, they each had a protein bar as well. They ate in silence. Gillian couldn’t help but think of Max. Although Mathias and Shayne were unreadable, she imagined their thoughts must have turned to their familiars as well. But as her eyelids drooped, she knew fatigue was also taking its toll. They had to be tired too.
“It’s time to lay down,” Shayne said quietly. “Before you fall down.”
For a moment, she was reminded of their time in the Midnight Market, that dark place he had shepherded her through. Mathias removed three small stuff sacks from his large backpack. To Gillian’s astonishment, each one held a single, thin bedroll. The moment he twisted the small cap on each, they self-inflated. Shayne arranged their packs as pillows. Gillian didn’t need any coaxing to take the middle ‘bed’. If she’d had any energy left at all, she would have enjoyed the thought of laying between two of the most beautiful men she’d ever seen. But no sooner had they joined her, than sleep claimed her.
Her dreams were blessedly sweet, if jumbled. Pleasant images of beautiful surroundings faded in and out. No comfort had been spared. There was a man looking out the window as she lay on the bed. She smiled groggily, reaching for him––and woke up.
Gillian blinked in the bright firelight. She was in the cavern. Shayne lay on her one side and on her other… Gillian sat up. Where was Mathias? He wasn’t on his bedroll. She glanced in all directions. There he was, next to the water. Had they already run out? But as she watched, she realized he stood in it. Though she hadn’t seen it before, there must be some sort of shallow ledge. Mathias was standing in the water up to his shins. His head was bowed low and his shoulders were shaking. Was he all right?
Already stiff, Gillian got up, as Shayne continued to sleep. As she neared Mathias, she realized the irregular stone edge of the water was worn as smooth as the paving tile in the tunnel. As she’d suspected, he was standing on a small ledge that was easily visible through the crystal clear water.
“Mathias? What’s the matter?”
He choked a little in surprise as if shocked to see her standing next to him. His surprise gave her a start, since she’d made no secret of her approach.
“Why is this happening to us?” Mathias asked, his voice ragged.
To Gillian’s shock, she realized he was crying. Tears wet his face. His eyes were wild with pain and grief.
“Mathias, I–”
“It wasn’t supposed to be this way, Galia. I don’t know how we went wrong.”
“What? Mathias, I’m Gillian, I’m not Galia.”
For a moment, his image faded. Instead, her brain insisted that she saw a white-haired woman, narrow as a blade and shaking like a leaf. Then reality reasserted itself. It was just Mathias again.
She stood next to him, resting a gloved hand on his shoulder.
“You’re touching me,” Mathias said, a slight smile through his tears. “I’ve missed that.”
“Mathias, you’re not well, come back to the fire.”
“It’s fine, Galia. It’s fine. I’ll make this better.”
Gillian started to ask what he meant, but he turned to her with a lopsided smile on his face. In his hand was a gleaming sword, dripping with water.
“Mathias…”
“Galia, stop. Just stop. We’re over. We’re done. Let me take care of you. I’ll make this better. I’ll prot
ect us.”
“Mathias, put the sword down,” said Gillian.
She started backing away. Mathias was far faster than she was. If she simply ran, there would be no hope at all.
“Shh, Galia. I’m going to take care of you.”
Mathias face held no malice or rage, only a kind of peace. He held the sword with a practiced grace. Though the last thing she wanted to see was Mathias get hurt, she had to call for Shayne. But in a blur of motion, Mathias was out of the water. The tip of the blade was at her throat. In the blink of an eye, he’d blocked her escape. Now her back was to the lake, and he was advancing on her. Though Mathias’s face was awash with tears, he was still smiling. Only a flick of his wrist would put the blade into her throat. All she could do was back up. But when her foot splashed into the water, everything changed.
“Please don’t do this,” Gillian said. “I can fix this, I can. Please, Mina, stop this at once.”
Mina shook her head. Galia knew all to well how many lives Mina’s sword had taken. Never had she dreamed it might claim her life as well.
“Don’t you understand?” Mina said softly. “There’s nothing left for us. Tenebris is over. It has fallen. We’re what’s left, and they won’t stop hunting us, not until the day we die. My love, I am so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
The words were barely out of her mouth before she lunged again. With a yelp, Galia fell deeper into the water. It was ice cold, so frigid that it stung. Nor had she escaped her lover’s blade. It grazed her shoulder. She was bleeding into the lake. She prayed it would not draw the old gods to the surface.
“Mina, we’re still here. Both of us. We can–”
“It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t. He’s dead, and your heart’s gone with him. Seven gods damn me, so has mine. We’re what’s left, and we’re not supposed to be Galia, can’t you see it?”
For a moment Mina covered her beautiful face with one hand. Galia edged closer to her. Perhaps there was something she could salvage. Perhaps there was something she could do, something she could say. But Mina moved fast as a temple snake. Her sword was up again. Even if her eyes were full of tears, her aim had always been true. Galia saw it now. Mina would drag her body out to the dry rock. She would build a pyre there. The sword was for Galia, but the pyre would be for them both.
