by Keri Arthur
It didn’t matter. Nothing did, beyond escaping.
A bullet clipped my calf and sent me stumbling. Kai cursed and yanked the chain upward, almost wrenching my shoulder out of its socket but keeping me upright.
Up ahead, the guardhouse door flung open; Kai swore again and swept his weapon around. But the gun was blinking red, and only two bullets sped from the chamber before it fell silent. There was no time—and no space—to reload.
“Faster,” he yelled, even though both us were going at full tilt.
I sprayed fire left and right; moisture filled my right eye, blurring my vision as it dribbled over my lashes. The mote in my eye was bleeding. I was close, so very close, to the wall.
A screech echoed across the night. I glanced up and saw the drakkon pull free of the building, spilling more stone into the courtyard. I kept on running, my eyes on the guardhouse door as I prayed—with everything I had—for the wind to gift our feet wings. She must have been listening, because as another roar signaled the drakkon’s attack, we hit the darkness of the guardhouse. I grabbed the metal door, pulled it shut, and then quickly fused the lock. A heartbeat later, the drakkon’s flames hit the door; it had obviously been fortified against such fire, because it didn’t instantly melt. But the edges glowed with heat; it wouldn’t hold for long.
Kai quickly reloaded his weapon and then swung around to face me. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me you could use flame?”
“Why do you think I didn’t?” I touched the middle link of the chain tying us together and sent a burst of heat through my finger. The metal melted in seconds, leaving us cuffed but finally able to move independently. “You don’t trust me, and I didn’t want to be left behind.”
His gaze narrowed but his expression was hard to read, and the odd connection that sometimes flared between us was inert, giving me no hint as to what he might be thinking.
“This way,” he growled, then spun and stalked away.
I swept up a guard’s rifle and followed. Again, the shape of the weapon was unlike anything I’d ever seen, but it had a muzzle, a trigger, and a chamber that appeared to be full. Right now, that’s all that mattered.
We moved through the guardhouse into a wider chamber that held a table, a couple of chairs, and a bench on which a kettle steamed. At the end of the bench was another door. Kai gripped the handle lightly but didn’t immediately open it, instead pressing an ear against the metal.
“Do you know where we’re going?” I asked softly.
“Yes.”
“Have you been here before?”
“No, but I’ve seen floor plans.” He glanced at me. “There’s a large forecourt beyond this door and six men approaching. I’ll go left, you go right. All right?”
I nodded and raised the rifle. His grip tightened briefly on the handle, then he flung the door open and flowed left, his movements smooth and quick. I followed him through, darted right, and fired. There was no recoil from the weapon, and the shots flew as true as any could when unsighted and on the move. Three men went down; the others threw themselves sideways and came up shooting. Kai grunted, then dropped and rapidly returned fire, disintegrating the face of one Mareritt. I took the other two out.
Kai thrust to his feet, his face grim and blood pouring from a deep graze near his left shoulder. His gaze briefly swept me, reminding me of a general checking the state of his soldiers before raising the call to war.
He didn’t say anything; instead, he strode over to the nearest body. With a grunt of effort, he picked the man up and hauled him over his shoulder.
“Why do we need him?” I asked.
“Fingerprints. Would have been easier to just take off his hand, but I haven’t a knife and we need to conserve bullets. This way.”
I had no idea why fingerprints were required, but now was not the time to admit ignorance. I collected the rifles from the other bodies and then hurried after him. The forecourt—like our prison—had been carved out of the mountain and seemed to be little more than a parking bay. There were at least a dozen vehicles present, including the pod that had brought us here, and several caterpillar tanks. The latter would have been a good choice for getting out of here if we’d been able to access and start one.
At the far end of the cavern, in a direct line with the metal gates behind us, was the tunnel entrance. It was high, wide, and dark, but the air flowing from it was fresh and held the hint of spicy citrus—a scent generally associated with blacknut trees. The tunnel obviously exited either into or close to a large forest of them.
To the right of the tunnel’s entrance were a number of open carts—the sort of things mines used to ferry their workers to and from the surface. They were lined up in single file and attached by what looked like rolling clamps to a ribbon of metal that snaked into the darkness of the tunnel.
A soft clanking broke the silence. I half swung around; a crack of light now separated the two halves of the big metal door dividing this area from the main courtyard. It was being opened; we’d just run out of time.
Kai threw the body into the first cart, then jumped in. I followed, taking the rear seat and raising the rifle in readiness. Kai pressed a couple of switches, and the cart began to power up. Blue light flickered along the metal ribbon, as if in readiness. As lights across the control board flicked from red to green, Kai grabbed the Mareritt’s hand and slapped it onto what looked to be a black pane of glass. Light swept the dead man’s hand, and the remaining red light on the board switched to green. The brakes on the cart released, and the vehicle slowly trundled forward. Kai kept the dead man’s hand firmly pressed on the screen, which suggested contact was necessary for movement.
The crack in the door was now a foot wide; ice scum gathered beyond it.
“At this rate,” I commented, “the forecourt will be flooded with Mareritt before we get anywhere near the mouth of the tunnel.”
“Then you’d better make sure you’re ready to shoot the bastards, hadn’t you?”
Despite the situation—or perhaps even because of it—amusement bubbled. “You're sounding a wee bit testy.”
“That's because I am.” He paused. “But don’t take it personally.”
I didn’t. I raised the rifle and sighted on the door. As the cart picked up speed, the first Mareritt squeezed through the widening gap. I fired. His brains splattered across the face of the next man, who I also shot. The third man was cannier—he jumped back behind the door, stuck one hand out, and started firing. It might have been random, but random could be just as deadly as systematic.
The cart rounded the corner, picking up more speed as it entered the tunnel’s mouth. As the darkness gathered around us, I shifted position, squatting behind the cart’s rear wall for protection even though most of the returning fire didn’t come anywhere near us. But the gap in the door was now wide enough to reveal the presence of a vehicle—one that seemed to have a rather long and deadly cannon at the front of it.
“Kai, there’s some sort of armored vehicle about to enter the forecourt.”
He glanced around and swore. “That’s a needle tank.”
“A what?”
“They’re designed to maneuver in small spaces but have almost as much power as the larger ones parked in the forecourt.”
“Would the Mareritt risk using it in the tunnel and possibly cave the place in?”
“Yes, because their mages could clear the rubble easily enough.”
Mages. The word had my pulse rate leaping several notches, and I had no idea why. Mages and magic had existed as long as drakkons, and it wasn’t like I’d never confronted either. I had, plenty of times, and I’d survived every encounter thanks in part to my connection with Emri and the inability of magic to kill drakkons.
Emri…
I froze as a portion of ice fell away, giving me a small but precious nugget of memory.
Emri. My drakkon, and the missing part of my soul. The part that had been torn away when the riding harness had shattered and I�
�d fallen.
Fear crashed through me. Fear, hurt, and pain. For several seconds, I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Couldn’t do anything except silently repeat, over and over, In the wind’s name, please don’t let her be lying at the bottom of the lake. Please don't let her be dead…
Even though common sense and everything I’d learned so far suggested that’s exactly what her fate might have been.
A bullet pinged off the metal strut in front of me, spraying sparks across my face. I blinked, took a deep breath, then raised the rifle and fired. And kept firing, needing to see Mareritt go down even though it did little to ease the ice now settling into my soul.
Our speed continued to increase, and the screech of metal rollers running against the ribbon grew so loud it wiped out the noise of gunfire—both mine and that of the Mareritt. Wind tore at my clothes and hair, and the cart swayed dangerously. I braced my back against one side of it and my foot against the other, holding steady as I continued to fire.
A red light started blinking on the rifle, lending the darkness a bloody glow. I hoped it wasn’t an omen of what was to come.
But the tank was now trundling toward the door, and the cart's screaming wheels suggested we were at full speed.
I exchanged the rifle for another, but I didn’t bother firing—the Mareritt had retreated behind the tank. It would only waste bullets.
Then, with a loud, echoing clang, the doors locked open. The tank surged across the forecourt, its speed frightening. It wouldn't take long for that thing to catch us—if catching us was its goal. Given the gun was now being cranked into firing position, I doubted it was.
“We’ve got a metal tail.” I had to shout to be heard.
“We’re at full speed,” Kai replied. “There’s nothing else I can do.”
“How long is this tunnel?”
“It runs the width of the Blue Steel Mountains.”
I blinked. “The Mareritt have direct access into Arleeon? Since when?”
“Since forever.” He glanced at me, eyes blue chips in the soft glow coming from the control panel. “This tunnel was created soon after Zephrine fell.”
Why would Esan have allowed such a thing to happen? Drakkons might be of no use in an underground fight, but both Esan and Zephrine had well-equipped ground forces. Unless, of course, there’d been a catastrophic failure of all defenses—not just Zephrine’s but Esan’s as well.
But I once again shoved the questions aside and said, “We only had twenty-five minutes to meet the pickup—will we make it?”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
“What happens if we don’t?”
“Then you’d better hope the Mareritt only have a partial guard at the other end of this thing.”
My gaze went back to the blot of darkness that was the tank. We were in trouble anyway—it was getting too close, too fast.
“What’s the firing range of that tank?”
Kai glanced over his shoulder. “We’re almost within it.”
Even as he spoke, fire flashed from the tank’s gun, and the air whistled. I instinctively ducked, even though the cart wasn’t going to offer much protection if we were hit.
With a deafening whoomph, the missile hit the side of the wall twenty or so feet behind the cart. Debris and heat spun through the air, pummeling the cart and tearing holes in metal and skin. The cart rocked violently, but somehow the rollers clung on, and we sped on into the darkness.
Another flash of fire. Another whoomph.
This time, the missile hit the wall just behind the cart. The force of the explosion not only blew apart a massive section of mountain but sent the cart tumbling end over end. I tried to grip on, tried to hunker down and use the cart as protection against the sheer mass of stone and dirt rolling with us, but the force was such that it simply ripped my grip away.
Then darkness hit, and I knew no more.
Three
I woke to the awareness of blood and pain. Warmth dribbled down my face, my head hurt, and my ears rang. Instinct had me pushing upright, but there was something lying across my butt and legs—a weight that pinned rather than crushed. While my feet were going numb, I could at least move my toes, and that meant there was no life-changing damage.
The air was thick and heavy with dust, and every breath left the inside of my mouth and throat coated with muck. The darkness was absolute—either the exit remained a long way off or it was not only guarded but also blocked by another rusted metal door. Thankfully, there was no immediate indication that guards had been sent back down the tunnel to investigate whether or not we’d survived the explosion.
All around me, rocks groaned as they settled into position. The metal track lay scattered across the floor in variously sized chunks, and the bulk of cart was who knew where.
I twisted around to check what had happened behind us. My back and shoulder muscles protested the movement, but again, the rising weight of pain suggested bruising rather than major damage.
The tunnel had gone. In its place was a mountain of rock and dirt. The explosion had not only blown out the side of the tunnel but also caused the roof to collapse. It gave us some time to escape, although the faint sounds of movement coming from the other side of the barrier suggested we only had hours rather than days to get out of here.
But it at least meant I could safely produce flame and more thoroughly examine the rock that pinned me. I raised a hand and called fire to the tips of two fingers. It was little more than a splutter of warmth—a warning that even though my strength regenerated at a rapid rate, my reserves were still low. The slab of stone was four feet long and a good six inches thick. The only thing that had stopped it crushing my body was the rubble lying on either side of my hips—it was just high enough to support the bulk of the slab’s weight. While the goddess of luck might not be giving us much of a break tonight, she hadn’t totally abandoned us. But Túxn didn’t throw her favors around lightly, and that meant there’d be a cost for this piece of luck. There always was.
I frowned and cast my flame a little higher. As the shadows peeled farther away, I saw Kai. He lay on the other side of the tunnel, his body covered by chunks of stone and the remnants of the cart. The back of his head and neck were bloody, he wasn’t moving, and I couldn’t tell if he was breathing.
He had to be alive. Flame might be able to knock a drakkon off her course, but it couldn’t melt or move stone. Not without so much effort it would render me unconscious for days—and that certainly wasn’t practical in this situation.
I picked up a small stone and tossed it at him. As much as I wanted to wake him, I didn’t dare speak. The flame wasn’t bright enough to be visible through the mountain of rubble behind us, but the Mareritt had keen hearing. While it was unlikely they’d hear a whisper, I didn’t want to risk it. The longer they thought us dead, the more chance we had of getting away.
The stone hit the bottom half of Kai’s right leg and bounced away. There was no immediate response. I frowned and tried again; we needed to get out of here, and we needed to do so soon. Not just because the Mareritt were already working on a means to clear the tunnel but also because we were running out of time. We couldn’t have more than six or seven minutes left before the rescue party departed. And if they did, it would take something close to a miracle for us to get away.
The third stone hit Kai on the shoulder and, this time, elicited a response. His body shifted fractionally, then, with a half grunt, half growl, he surged upright, shaking stone and metal from his body as he swung around and raised his weapon.
For an instant, all I saw was death. Death and hatred.
For me.
Then he blinked, and the hatred was quickly shuttered. But it was a blatant reminder that I knew absolutely nothing about this man; as much as I needed his help, I also needed to keep alert and aware.
He checked the rifle, swung it across his shoulder, and then walked over to me. Without comment, he squatted at the top end of the slab and then raised one ey
ebrow in query.
I nodded. His grip tightened on the edges of the stone, and then, with another grunt, he thrust upright. The minute the stone was off my legs, I dragged myself out from under its shadow. My feet were barely clear when his grip slipped and the stone smashed back down, crushing the rubble that had saved me and sending sharp shards of debris slicing through air and skin.
But those cuts were minor compared to what the Mareritt would inflict if they caught us. We had to move—now.
I dragged the collar of my undershirt over my mouth and nose in an effort to filter out the muck and then pushed into a sitting position. Agony bloomed, and I gritted my teeth against the scream that tore up my throat. The pain wasn't the result of injury—it was simply the tingling agony that came with blood rushing through limbs that had been restricted for a little too long. It did at least make the throbbing in my head seemed less intense, though the latter would undoubtedly last longer.
I swiped at the blood still running down my face, then glanced up as a hand appeared in front of my nose. Again, there was little emotion to be seen in Kai’s expression, and his eyes—though bright in the light of my flame—remained icy. Ungiving.
I let him haul me up, then stepped around him and moved deeper into the tunnel. Once we were clear of debris, we upped our speed. But our footsteps echoed lightly across the silence and would provide ample warning of our approach to the guards who undoubtedly waited ahead.
The inner countdown hit red territory; we had one minute left and the gateway was nowhere in sight. But there was little point in saying anything. I was already running as fast as I could; there was nothing else I could do.
The vital minute came and went; frustration rose, but I thrust it aside and concentrated on keeping up with Kai—who, despite the two-inch-long cut on the back of his head, seemed totally unaffected and full of strength.
