Chapter Twenty-Eight
It seems like we walk forever until we make it to a location I think looks familiar. We had to use the last flash bomb several turnings back, so I’m hoping this area is clear since we’re getting on toward fairly well traveled pathways now.
I lead us down an old earthen corridor, built by the early Resistance. Over the years we've branched out, adding additional tunnels that lead to various spots underneath London. Sometimes I'm amazed we haven't brought the city down around our ears.
I call a halt. “Let me see it.”
Dham shakes his head. “It’s nothing.”
I glare at him. “Trick see if we’ve got any first aid in the packs.”
Dham sighs, then raises his arm so I can take a look. I lift his shirt carefully, ignoring the muscles and pale golden skin beneath my hands, and pull off the makeshift bandage that it has made. Blood flows again. Dham flinches. “Sorry,” I whisper, my mouth suddenly dry.
“S’okay.” He’s keeping his eyes trained on the wall behind me.
“Here.” Trick hands me a water bottle. I open it and take a sniff. It’s just water, not accelerant or anything nasty.
I pour most of it on the wound. It’s long and shallow, but it is messy.
“Bandages,” Trick says. He holds them in his hands.
I take a few from him. “You won’t need stitches, but you’ll need to be a little careful with it.” I put a few gauze bandages on him, covering the wound completely. “That will have to do until I get you someplace cleaner to really have a go at it.”
“Thanks,” Dham says, lowering his arms. I hand him what’s left of the water. I allow us a few minutes rest, trying to forget the feel of Dham’s skin beneath my fingers. It’s not working, so we press on.
I take one that branches left and follow it until it branches again. We don't have enough people to patrol every tunnel, so I'm expecting to run into some trouble along the way, but we make it to the main tunnel that will eventually lead us to the main set of tunnels. My shoulders tighten with anxiety. The absence of lesser demons could mean that they've been eradicated by our people, but more likely means they've been recruited for an attack on our main area. I fight the urge to run to see if the trap has already been sprung. Getting caught won't help any of us.
I stop at the intersection of three corridors and listen. I can hear a faint rasp ahead of us, like scales on stone. Big scales. I lower the illumination on my torch and creep ahead, waving for Dham and Trick to stay back. He shakes his head and follows me. The lights are broken here so my torch is the only light in the tunnel, which might as well be a placard reading Tasty Snack Here! Come Get Some.
The rasping sound grows louder and faster. I train my torch on where the sound is coming from and catch a glimpse of something tall and snakelike weaving down the tunnel towards me. It lunges, a large hood unfurling, and I dodge, feeling the displacement of air as the attack sails over my head. It looks like an extra-large cobra, man-sized, from what I can see of it. I hear a dry rattle and instinct tells me to dodge so I do. A huge stinger, similar to a scorpions crashes into the earth near my head.
Lovely. I'd say this was a Nag, but London is out of its preferred hunting ground. Way out. Like several continents over. But the scorpion tail doesn't match up with anything I've heard of. Maybe this demon started to get a bit creative with the body modification.
I put myself between it and Dham, going down a new tunnel, trying to lead it a more open space. I'm hampered by the close walls, severely limited in the power of my strikes. Then again, that means the demon is likewise hindered and can't rear up to its full height. Lucky me.
Dham's already ringing, pulling bells out of his harness. The sounds have no effect though. He tries again.
The thing lunges again and I jab at it, catching it across the hood. My blade skids across it, leaving a score mark. Light flickers against the wound and yellowish liquid begins to seep across the black and coppery scales. It makes a high-pitched gurgling noise and lashes out with its stinger. I slash as it comes down and the stinger flies free, spinning over my head to land behind me somewhere in the darkness.
"A little help here!" I dodge another strike.
"What do you think I'm doing? Knitting?" Dham shouts back.
I stab it again, blades digging into the tough hide. The demon shrieks its gurgle again, throwing back its head and hitting the top of the tunnel. Earth rains down as the creature writhes in what looks like pain. It is trying to back up, away from my blades. Dham tries again, three bells held in his hands. He continues to sound them, one ringing out as the others die away.
It lunges at me and I'm too slow. The Nag bowls me over. I hit the ground and roll, trying to come to my feet, but the snake demon is relentless. It slithers forward, jaws snapping at my face.
"Hey!" Dham yells.
A bell soars through the air, striking the Nag in the face. It rears back again. I don't hesitate. Springing forward, I stab into the creature's chest with all my might. The blade sinks into the scales like it's carving through cold butter. Red lightning flares beneath the scales as my blessed steel cuts into it. I twist the blade, making the hole deeper and wider. With a final shriek and a shudder, the thing begins to shimmer. When it finally fades, only a smear of yellow ooze remains behind.
"Hey?" I gasp, winded.
Dham walks over and collects his bell. "I got frustrated." He shrugs.
"Well, thanks." The adrenaline is coursing through me, making feel like I'm going to shake apart if I don't keep moving.
"You too." Dham moves up beside me, close but not touching. I could reach out to him if I wanted to. There's a part of me that does, that wants to feel something real and solid. I fight monsters, we could be heading into a trap and all I want to do is snatch a moment of normal in the midst of it. I feel like I'm this close to falling apart.
"Which way now?" His voice grounds me, shakes me loose of the craziness that I feel on the verge of.
I point. I shake my head to clear the cobwebs when I feel his hand touch my arm. "Amaranth, it's going to be okay."
I'm torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to scream. How can any of this be okay? I don't know what's going on at the place I've called home for the last seven years, I don't know if anyone down here is still alive. But laughing or screaming aren't options; neither will help us get out of here, find the others, or get us any closer to ending this.
"I hope you're right," I whisper, looking into his face. The ready smile is gone, giving his features a serious cast. He's looking back at me, eyes flickering over my face as if trying to read something there.
"I am." His face loses the serious expression. "Most of the time."
I find myself smiling a little. "Those are better odds than I've had in a quite some time."
"Let's not waste them."
“While the ambience down here is truly exquisite, can we get a bloody move on?” Trick’s voice rings loudly in the tunnel.
Dham gestures in the direction I indicated with a wide sweep of his arm. "Lead on, milady."
"As you wish, milord." I turn the illumination of my torch back up to full.
We've walked only a few meters when Dham asks, "What was that thing?"
"I don't know. I've never seen anything like it down in the tunnels before." I turn down a new tunnel going right. "But if not for the stinger, I'd have sworn it was a Nag."
"A Nag? Snake demon?" At my nod, he whistles. "They're not something you see every day."
"You know of them?" I'm surprised. I wouldn't have thought they'd have those kind in the United States.
He nods. "Just research. I ran across a mention of them in a book once. I remembered them because the illustration was so cool looking." He shook his head. "Not nearly as cool in person though."
"If it was a Nag, it was way out of its normal habitat. They're mostly found in India and Asia. Too cold for it here." Trick is strangely quiet. I wonder what he knows that he’s not saying.
"Import?"
"Maybe." We're coming up on the main Underground tunnels now and I lower my torch's light again. Lights line the corridor, making it easier to see. I listen carefully for any sound of conflict, but I hear nothing but my breathing and that of Dham beside me.
I pick up the pace now that the tunnels have widened out. There's the urge to hurry, to run rising in me. A strange sense of panic claws up my back; I'm not used to panic. Fear, yes, but this is entirely different. Dham quickens his pace, his long legs eating up the distance, like he's feeling the same thing I am. Gettheregettheregetthere, hurryhurryhurryhurry runs through my head like a prayer mala. Without realizing it, I break into a run.
We come to the barricade. I brought us in a different set of tunnels so we bypassed the train car. The barricade is unmanned, but there's no sign of a struggle. I lead us in, blade drawn and ready. Dham has his hands at his belt. I lead us quickly down the inner tunnels. There's no sign of anyone. It's as if everything has been abandoned. Or left. I feel like I'm walking through a ghost town.
Then I see it. A blasting charge. The Inquisition has been here.
"Come on," I shout, taking off at a dead run. I pass several more charges as I lead us down the main branches toward the Pentacle room. As we do deeper in the bowels of the Resistance warrens, I stop seeing the charges; they must have only set the more popular paths. There may still be people down here. But we have to hurry. There's no telling when they could decide to blow the whole thing.
"Is that what I thought it was?" Dham's voice sounds a little breathless but he's keeping pace with me easily. In fact, I have to push myself to keep up with him.
“Is blowing stuff up tonight’s theme?” Trick asks to no one in particular, although Dham laughs.
Dham is waiting at the door impatiently and we set off at a run. I am leading us toward the ladder to the apartment complex on the surface, following the twists and turns that I know by heart. I look back every now and again to make sure Trick is still with us. He's there, between Dham and me, keeping pace.
I skid around a corner and come face to face with a tall man. He's not one of ours, not anyone I recognize. He's holding two long, bloodied knives in his hand. I don't want to think of where the blood came from. His sleeves are rolled up and I see the brand marks of the Inquisition on the skin of his forearms.
"What have we here? More rats?" His voice is a sneer.
"Stay back," I hiss to Trick and Dham. "I'll get rid of him."
The man throws back his head and laughs, a harsh, strident sound. It makes me want to vomit, as does the blood that's dripping to the floor. I take up a guard stance as he steps closer, slashing with his knives. I have a longer weapon, but he's got the reach on me, so we're pretty much equal. And I'm trying to keep him away from my companions, while he's unencumbered.
I slide back, out of his reach for the moment. We're running out of time. I don't know when those charges are rigged to blow, but the fact that he's still down here gives me hope that the Inquisition will wait until all of its members are clear before triggering the charge. But I don't know. They've sacrificed their men before on much less important operations.
He glides forward, faster than I expect and slices with his left. I dodge, but too slow and he opens up a gash down my upper arm. It's not bad, but it will hamper my movements, as will the blood loss. Dham swears, but I motion him back. He needs to get out of here with Trick.
Suddenly there's the sound of metal striking flesh and bone with a dull gong. The Inquisitor staggers, revealing Cat standing behind him. Her Died bell is raised above her head. She smashes it down, the edge of it catching him across his temple, and he goes down like a sack of potatoes. She slams the bell into his face to make sure he stays down, then looks at us.
"Cat?" I manage to get out once I finish gawping like a landed fish.
"How did you get here?" Dham asks, coming forward to hug her.
"Kevin brought me here after everything went tits up. He’s gone back to see if he can help anyone else." She straps the bell back in the harness on her chest, making sure the clapper is secure.
"Timely assist," Trick ventures.
"Who's this then?" Cat peers at him curiously.
"He's on our team. Introductions later." Dham pushes us all down the hall. "Escape now."
I break into a run, hoping we don't run into anymore Inquisitors. I didn't even check to see if the one Cat took out was still alive, but he's the least of our worries. We reach the ladder and I gesture for Cat and Dham to go first, followed by Trick, then me. We climb quickly, reaching the trapdoor. Cat pushes against it, but it doesn't budge.
"It's locked or blocked or something!" She calls down in the darkness and I curse. "It won't open!" There's panic in her voice and I can't blame her. I hadn't thought that they'd lock this door when the Inquisition attacked. It must mean they've abandoned this area.
"Scootch over," Dham says, climbing up next to her. He wiggles out of his pack and hands the strap down to me, over Trick's head. He puts his back against the trapdoor and heaves himself up. I see a sliver of light as the door lifts up, then crashes down again. "There's something on top of it, but it's not locked."
"Do you think you can force it open?" I ask, wondering how much time we have left.
"Maybe," he grunts, pushing against the door again. It opens a little wider.
"Hang on a minute. I'm coming up."
Trick scoots to the side of the ladder to make way for me as I climb up with Dham's pack draped over my shoulder. Cat climbs down and for a few seconds we're just an awkward jumble on the steel ladder bolted to the wall. Then she's down next to Trick and I'm up next to Dham. "Let's both push together," I suggest.
We do a quick count and on three we both shove our backs against the door. With a groan it heaves upwards. "Quick," Dham gasps. "Shove something under it."
I hope Dham can hold it for the few seconds it takes to swing his pack off my shoulder. I stuff it through the opening and he relaxes. Dim light is streaming through the small opening. "You ready for another shove?"
Dham gulps in a deep breath and nods. "Now it's just leverage."
Again on three we buck upwards, bracing our legs against the rungs and forcing our weight against the trapdoor. We strain our muscles, groaning against the wood. Then I hear something topple and the door flies open, landing with a flat smack against the floor. I scramble through, grabbing up Dham's pack as I go. I reach back down and give Dham a hand up.
I do the same for Cat and Trick, who has been remarkably quiet through all of this. I'm not sure what to make of that. When he was in the cell, he was much more cocky. I don't know if this quiet indicates he's plotting something. Probably, knowing a demon. While everyone is getting rearranged, I glance up the stairs. Nobody is around and there's no sound coming. It looks like the Inquisition may not have found out about this particular hidey hole.
"Come on, we can't stay." I slam the trapdoor closed and Dham and I right the heavy chair that held it in place.
I lead the way up the stairs, blade still drawn. Cat is behind me, followed by Trick, with Dham in the rear. The stairs are empty, but this early in the morning, it makes sense that no one would be up and about. As we get to the first floor I see watery sunlight splashing through the sidelights of the main door. Dawn has come.
"If anyone asks, we're tourists heading to our next hostel." That would explain the packs and the early rising. I tuck my blades back into my bedroll, which happens to have obfuscation wards sewn into the blanket. I'm hoping it's enough to hide what my swords actually are. I look to make sure everything else is stowed. Dham and Cat's bells have disappeared into their packs as well. We all look perfectly ordinary, except for Trick who looks a little off. Hopefully not enough to attract attention though.
"Where are we going?" Dham asks as we troop down the front steps.
I stop. I’m not entirely sure where is safe anymore. I spread my hands out, not knowing what to say
. When I look at Cat and Dham I feel like an utter and complete failure.
Help comes from a surprising source. Cat says, “Let’s head to Auntie’s. If it hasn’t been compromised, we can regroup there.”
“That’s as good a place as any,” Dham says, squeezing my shoulder. I nod. He then asks Cat what I’ve been wanting to know. “What happened to your team?”
She wipes a hand across her eyes. I notice that it’s shaking. “We didn’t even make it halfway in. The Inquisition was waiting for us, like they knew we were coming. Most of the team was shredded before we could get back out.” She takes a breath and asks, “You?”
“Pretty much the same,” Dham answers.
“This wasn’t just a failed mission,” I begin, working it out as I speak. “The portal was a trap--the Gate was a fake. Someone fed us false intel and then leaked the plans for the attack to the Inquisition.”
“You’ve got a spy,” Trick concludes, his voice carefully neutral.
“We’re going to have to figure this out--we don’t know who we can trust anymore.” Cat sticks her hands in her pockets.
I nod. “We’ll have to see who made it out. Maybe then we can get some answers.”
Dham stares at me for a little too long and there is a sadness in his eyes that I almost can't bear. I'm afraid he's going to ask the question I'm dreading: And what if no one is there? I don't want to think of my friends, of Ryland, captured and tortured by the Inquisition. Or worse. I look down.
"Can we get this party moving?" Trick's voice cuts through my reverie. He's got a sardonic grin on his face. "I'm sure all of this betrayal and bloodshed is fascinating to you, but I'm getting a bit peckish. And frankly, you're boring the hell out of me."
"I've got to say I'm with him," Cat adds, jerking her thumb at Trick. "Can we go?"
I sigh. Of course Cat agrees with the demon. They're perfect for each other. I shake my arm from Dham's hand and orient myself. "Come on," I say as I lead them to what I hope is safety.
We've only gone maybe a block or so from the apartment building when the ground beneath us shivers. A low boom echoes from where we've come. I look back and see a grey plume of dust or smoke rising into the air. They've blown the tunnels.
The Iron Bells Page 36
