“Can you see any gorgets?” Ryshad stood beside me, searching the oncoming line.
“I can’t tell them apart at this distance, not with the smoke.” I shook Shiv’s elbow. “We can’t risk you or Sorgrad to someone with Artifice. We’ll never get off these rocks without you.”
“Sorgrad, let the fire go.” Shiv swept his hands around as if cradling an unseen sphere. We’ve got too many elements active and I’m too tired to handle the conflicts.”
The Mountain Man obeyed, which sparked a look of amazement from ’Gren. Azure magelight threaded through the roiling smoke and, ignoring the teasing breezes, wove an impenetrable veil around the blazing wooden pillars.
“Time to disappear,” Sorgrad announced cheerfully.
I looked at Shiv, bracing myself for whatever sorcery had carried us over the ocean and another bout of nausea. Instead, Shiv was on his knees and prying up the slab he’d been standing on. With a scrape to set my teeth on edge it revealed a narrow, stone-lined stair.
I gaped. “Where does that go?”
“Somewhere not here.”
’Gren was already down the first few steps.
“There’s a chamber down there.” Sorgrad cocked his head quizzically at me. “We found it when we scouted the place.”
“What made you think to look?” I took one step down.
“No one would go to the trouble of building something like this and not make best use of it.” Ryshad urged me on down.
“Build it?” I said stupidly.
“You don’t suppose Ilkehan’s forefathers just happened to find a perfectly round hillock, do you?” Sorgrad retorted with amusement. “Get a move on, girl.”
As I followed Shiv I began to see how the mound had been raised from successive layers of that local stone with the useful property of fracturing into handily flat and even pieces. Then I couldn’t see anything at all. With another nerve-shredding scrape, Ryshad let the slab fall back into place and we were wrapped in total darkness.
“I know Mountain Men and Forest Folk are known for their night sight but this is a bit excessive.” I reached out a hand until I felt Shiv’s shoulder.
I felt rather than heard his low chuckle. A faint glow rose from the stones, as if some moisture reflected a distant light. It vacillated between the palest of greens and a whisper of blue before sliding into a suggestion of red and gold.
“We don’t want to give ourselves away,” Ryshad warned from behind me.
“They’re bound to know this chamber is here.” Sorgrad nudged me and I moved carefully after Shiv.
The radiance trickled down the stones alongside us. The stairs twisted oddly, curving back and around but the regular pattern of the stacked stones defied my sense of direction. After creeping around in unlit houses on many occasions and never losing my bearings, that unnerved me.
“They can only send down one man at a time.” ’Gren’s voice changed as he spoke, ringing louder in a wider space. “That means we can kill them all.”
“If they dare come down here.” Shiv stepped carefully off the lowest step, which was an uncomfortable stretch down even for someone with his height. I sat on the bottom tread and swung my feet down to the dark floor below.
Shiv’s vaporous magelight slid away to leave the stairs a black void in the wall of a conical chamber. There were other holes, niches an arm span across. Caught unawares, I shuddered as I saw long bones laid haphazard between ribcages still linked to hip bones by spines and leathery cartilage. Skulls tucked to one side or set one atop another regarded us sardonically, sockets dry and empty. Some of the niches were crammed with tumbled bones but no skulls, some all but empty save for several bony faces keeping watch. Something grated between my boot and the flagstoned floor. Looking down, I saw a small bone from a finger or toe.
I swallowed my revulsion. “Are we giving these people a decent burning?”
“No.” Sorgrad’s sharp response echoed round the charnel chamber.
I looked to see what Ryshad thought but he was studying a section of wall. The stones between the niches were large slabs set upright in the layers that made up the mound.
“We’re here to destroy the seat of Ilkehan’s power.” Shiv looked around before bringing his gaze back to Sorgrad.
“We’re not touching these bones.” The Mountain Man was adamant.
“If you say so.” I shivered again. “So we wait until whoever’s up top goes away?”
As I spoke, the sound of the slab at the top being lifted reverberated down the stair. Without magic to fan the flames, someone bold enough or scared enough of his commander must have darted between the burning tree trunks.
’Gren flattened himself to the wall by the entrance, dagger in hand. “Come and join your ancestors,“ he murmured with glee.
“Or we could try this.” Ryshad leaned all his weight on one side of the slab that had so intrigued him. It moved on a hidden pivot to reveal another black void.
“More bones?” I asked with distaste.
Ryshad peered inside as the elemental light explored the darkness. “No.”
“Looks like a rat trap.” ’Gren barely spared the hole a glance. “Kill enough of them good and loud and the rest’ll think twice about following.”
Sorgrad was already easing past the slanted stone on hands and knees. “If it’s anything like a tyakar, there may be another way out.”
That was good enough for me so I hurried after him, Shiv helping me with a boost to the rump that would have earned anyone else a slap in the face. He wriggled past me to fold himself up next to Sorgrad.
“Get in here, ’Gren,“ Ryshad ordered curtly. The Mountain Man obeyed, reluctance just about visible as Shiv’s fading illumination chivvied him across the floor. The chamber returned to the silent blackness of before.
“What do we do if they come knocking?” ’Gren grumbled under his breath as he tucked himself opposite me.
“Hush.” Ryshad eased the slab closed with barely more than a whisper of stone on stone. This was a mason’s work I could certainly appreciate.
We were sat hunched, shoulder to shoulder, boots uncomfortably tangled. We all tried to calm ourselves, as much to hear what was happening on the other side of the slab as to avoid giving our hiding place away. A faint noise sounded and we all held our breath, straining to hear.
I brought a hand up to my mouth and bit down on the knuckle of my forefinger. Halcarion only knows why but I had a quite insane urge to giggle. I scolded myself silently. That would be ridiculously stupid and quite possibly fatal into the bargain. With us packed like the fish in Olret’s barrels, Ryshad felt my shoulders shaking and took my hand, squeezing it in mute reassurance. I closed my other hand over his strong fingers, feeling familiar square-cut nails and the rough skin over his knuckles.
We heard a determined thump as someone jumped that last deceptive step. A second thud and a third joined whoever had drawn the reversed rune and come down first. Emboldened by the fact they weren’t yet dead, the newcomers risked some light. A torch flame traced an orange thread around the stone protecting us. I couldn’t make out what the muffled voices said but their puzzlement was plain enough as was an encouraging undercurrent of consternation.
“Honoured dead, forgive this intrusion.” A stern voice made us all stiffen. Someone with authority had arrived. A chill gathered like cold sweat in the small of my back as this new voice began what could only be an aetheric chant. What had Sorgrad said about a second way out of this death trap?
“Where am I?” The cry froze the blood in my veins and the enchanter’s incantation died on a strangled gasp.
“What do you want?” This second voice was lower and resonant with the rhythms of the Sheltya that Sorgrad had mimicked.
“Where am I?” repeated the first frightened voice and, gathering my wits, I realised it spoke old Tormalin, the tongue of the original settlers. It was a solid gold certainty that these Elietimm in the charnel chamber had no notion what it was saying.
>
“Is that you?” It was another lost Tormalin voice and I felt Ryshad go rigid beside me. This was a bad enough place for him to find himself in without people from the shades that had so nearly claimed him joining us.
“What do you want with us?” That was the Elietimm bones again, this time several voices resonating through the stone. I screwed my eyes shut but it was no good. I couldn’t close my mind’s eye on a vision of dry skulls talking, jawbones flapping like some ghastly marionette.
“Where are the people we seek?” That was the enchanter leading our pursuers, his voice was strained with what I sincerely hoped was panic at what he’d started with his incautious Artifice. Gripping Ryshad’s hand, I wished fervently for a chance to strangle the bastard with his own gorget.
“Lost, so long lost.” The ancient Elietimm sighed, more voices joining in their lament and sinking the words beneath meaningless ululation.
“I cannot see!” A Tormalin wail rose above the murmur, prompting another despairing cry. “Are we dead?”
“The darkness, oh, the darkness. I cannot bear it!”
That voice was in the hollow with us. I swear my heart missed a beat and the hairs on my neck bristled like a startled cat. By the greatest good fortune or Misaen’s blessing, all five of us jerked so hard in our instinctive desire to flee, we effectively stopped each other from moving at all. Then fear of discovery overrode fear of the disembodied voice and we all froze, still as hiding hares again. Blood pounded in my chest so hard I was surprised not to hear the sound echo back from the stones. The artefacts hidden in my jerkin weighed down on my hollow stomach like lead and a bruise where someone had kicked my leg throbbed.
“The darkness is peace.” The Elietimm bones outside offered rebuke not comfort.
“The darkness is ours.”
“The darkness is knowledge.”
“The darkness is ours to hold and defend.” The menace grew as the voices came thick and fast. The only good thing to be said about that was the noise drowned out the incoherent voice trapped with us.
“Who challenges us?” The dusty rasp had a ring of ritual, something to be said before formal battle or a duel to the death.
“You are demons!”
“We are forsaken.”
“We are lost!”
“Is there no light? Where is the light?”
The Tormalin frenzy nearly, but not entirely, drowned out the sound of boots hammering on the stone steps as the Elietimm who’d pursued us into the chamber broke and fled. If I hadn’t had someone pinning my legs and Ryshad between me and the way out, I’d have followed them and be cursed to the consequences.
The Elietimm voices were shouting now, Tormalin shrieks cutting through the clamour.
“Sorgrad!” I hissed into the darkness. “You said there was another way out.”
“I said there might be,” he retorted. “If there is, I can’t find it.”
“Use some magelight and look harder,” I told him forcefully.
“I’m not going out through that lot,” ’Gren said with complete certainty.
“I’m not raising any elemental magic until I know how they’re going to feel about it,” stated Sorgrad tightly. “Sheltya ban anyone mageborn from even approaching a tyakar and I’ll bet they’ve good reason.”
“Can shades actually harm the living?” Shiv managed a wizardly tone of detached enquiry for the first half of his question then his voice cracked with concern.
“I’ve no intention of finding out.” Ryshad’s voice was harsh and I caught the scent of fresh sweat. Then I realised my own forehead and breast were damp with cold apprehension.
“Isn’t there any Artifice you can use, Livak?” Sorgrad asked with commendable calmness.
“How am I supposed to read it in the dark?” Besides, the parchment in my pocket might as well have been blank, for all I could remember of what was written on it. The chaotic sounds outside rose to a higher pitch and the voice in with us started a low keening like an injured cat.
I hadn’t been so terrified since I was a child. This was worse than waking to the impenetrable cold of a winter’s night with the candle stub guttered and me scared of the dark but more scared of what might be waiting if I got out of my truckle bed or what might be roused if I called out for someone. At least back then, my mother always had an ear for me stirring and would appear with a fresh light, putting the shadows to flight with no-nonsense reassurance mixed with rebuke. My father, on those rare occasions he stayed with us on his travels, would use a song, turning the darkness into a comforting blanket wrapping me round. That song was a Forest song, no jalquezan that I could recall but anything was worth a try.
“Let’s run quickly, quickly, quickly, let’s run quickly,
little lass,
Let’s run quickly, quickly, quickly, let’s run quickly,
little lass,”
Breath all ragged, I missed more notes than I hit in the old lullaby but I persevered doggedly.
“For the trees still cluster thickly and the shades of night
are gathering,
Let’s run quickly, quickly, quickly, let’s run quickly,
little lass.”
Shiv’s tuneless voice told me the song had a place in the remote Kevil fens. He matched me in slowing the pace of the jaunty tune to match the words.
“Not so fast now, fast now, fast now, not so fast now,
little lad,
Not so fast now, fast now, fast now, not so fast now,
little lad,
See the moons and stars above us and the shades of
night are stilling,
Not so fast now, fast now, fast now, not so fast now,
little lad.”
Ryshad’s murmured version had a few different words and turns to the tune but the gist was the same and I fervently hoped that was all that mattered.
<>Walk more slowly, slowly, slowly, walk more slowly, oh
my love,
Walk more slowly, slowly, slowly, walk more slowly, oh
my love,
See the lantern in the window as the shades of night are
settling,
Walk more slowly, slowly, slowly, walking slowly, oh my
love.”
I left the story to the others and concentrated on the soft harmony my father added as soon as I was old enough to carry the tune myself, just in case that’s where the Artifice lay. The brothers lent their voices; ’Gren picks up a tune as easily as he pockets anything else.
“Now we’re resting, resting, resting, now we’re resting
safe at home,
Now we’re resting, resting, resting, now we’re resting safe
at home,
Work is done, the day is over and the shades of night
are sleeping,
Now we’re resting, resting, resting, now we’re resting all
at peace.”
We finished more or less together and sat in the blackness. The voices beyond the slab were silent. That much I’d hoped for. What I didn’t expect to hear was snoring.
“If that’s Artifice, it’s worked on Shiv,” said ’Gren with barely repressed hilarity.
I fought a laugh of my own; I could all too easily give way to inappropriate hysteria.
Ryshad hissed beside me. “I’ve got cramp.”
“Let’s get out of here,” suggested Sorgrad. “Anyone after us must be long gone.”
“It’s the longest gone that concern me most.” But I was eager enough to untangle myself and scramble out of the confined space once Ryshad had half crawled, half fallen out.
“Dast’s teeth!” He stumbled over something that clattered in the darkness.
My heart leapt until I realised it wasn’t the hollow ring of bone but the solid clunk of wood. Steel on flint raised sparks that stabbed at my eyes. I rubbed them and then Ryshad had the torch he’d found lit, soft flames warm and reassuring.
“Do you suppose they’re keeping watch?”
’Gren
moved to the black entrance of the stairway, weapon in hand.
“I would be,” said Ryshad curtly.
“I say we stay put.” Sorgrad was still by the hole we’d hidden in, using his cloak to pillow Shiv’s head. The wizard was sleeping as soundly as if he were in the finest inn in Toremal. “We all need some rest and we’re probably safer here than anywhere else in these islands.”
I wished I shared his unconcern. “Unless the real Eldritch Kin turn up to hold us to account.” That wasn’t a joke.
Sorgrad turned to survey the niches with their stacked bones and watchful skulls. “We should be safe enough, as long as no one uses any kind of magic”
Ryshad handed me the torch as he bent to dig fingers into his calf and ease his foot up and down. “That’s a curse. We have to get word to Temar and Halice as soon as possible.” His voice strengthened with determination to think about anything but the unnerving experience we’d just shared.
“Tomorrow’s soon enough.” ’Gren was pillowing his head on his pack as he lay himself down at the base of the stair. Anyone coming down there would tread on him and that would be the last mistake they made.
“You’ll have to wait for Shiv to wake up anyway.” Sorgrad got back into the hollow next to the wizard and settled himself down.
I sat down, concentrating on the torch flame so I wouldn’t have to look at the dry bones on all sides. Ordinarily, I’d have my back to a wall if one offered itself but here that meant having bits of ancient skeletons behind me. That notion made my skin crawl. But I soon shuffled round, frowning. There was no way I could sit without some bone-filled void at my back.
“Lean on me.” Ryshad sat back to back with me. We rested on each other, knees drawn up.
“What’s a tyakar cave, Sorgrad?” I asked suddenly.
“Where we keep our ancestors’ bones in the mountains,” he said sleepily. “Where Sheltya seek guidance at Solstice.” Grim satisfaction coloured his words. “What all the lowlanders dismiss as superstitious nonsense. Our charlatan priests bamboozling us ignorant fools with their lies and self-serving deceptions.”
Ryshad cleared his throat. “It’s truly necromancy?”
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