Through Stone and Sea ndst-2

by Barb Hendee

  Wynn pulled her sleeve free and stood, but as she turned to Chane, a passing white figure appeared briefly amid the crowd. Wynn froze, peering around Chane's side, and there it was again.

  A stark-white-robed and cowled figure towered above the dwarves in the market.

  "Oh, no … no … no!" she breathed, and grabbed Chane, wrenching him in against the tunnel wall.

  "What are you doing?" he demanded.

  "Shush. Don't move!"

  She reached back, urging Shade in behind herself, and then peeked around Chane. There in the crowd was the white-clad elf she'd seen at Hammer-Stag's funeral. Beyond him, she quickly spotted the Weardas. And last …

  Duchess Reine stood a little ways beyond the tunnel mouth, bartering with a clothier. She inspected a pair of folded pants and a heavy wool shirt. Both were simple—quite plain, in fact—and certainly not what a royal of Malourné would wear. And they were obviously too large for her.

  Wynn frowned at this. The duchess was out shopping? That hardly seemed likely, since she would have anything she needed.

  "It's the duchess," Wynn whispered.

  She grabbed Chane's belt, pulling him as she backed down the tunnel. Shade kept huffing impatiently behind her. Once they were far enough along a curve and lost sight of the market, Wynn let go of Chane—only to find him scowling at her.

  "She would not be coming our way," he said, and spun her around to push her onward.

  Shade wheeled and took off, and they followed the trail she held in her mind.

  Along twists and turns, they passed people in the crystal-lit tunnels, most heading back toward the market. But at each divergence, they encountered fewer passersby, until Shade made two turns in which they saw no one for a long while. Orange crystals mounted in the iron fixtures upon the walls grew scarce, until Wynn had to pull out her cold lamp crystal.

  Then Shade halted.

  By the crystal's light, they saw that the narrowing passage ahead split in two directions. Both branches sloped downward, arcing away from each other into the dark distance, for neither had any crystals mounted upon the walls.

  Shade stood at the split, looking down one branch and then the other.

  "What is wrong?" Chane asked.

  Wynn crouched, touching Shade's back, and the dog looked at her with a whine. Wynn tried remembering the cloaked figure Shade had shown her from Sliver's memory. It was difficult, since it wasn't truly her memory. But in turn, Shade just whined.

  "She doesn't know which way," Wynn said. "Maybe Sliver lost Ore-Locks here, or Shade didn't catch the whole memory of the way Sliver went. We've already come quite a ways and—"

  "Then we must guess," Chane said, "and continue with …"

  He never finished. Chane lowered his head, turning it to one side as his eyes half closed.

  "What is it?" she asked.

  He hesitated and then answered, "Just footsteps, some group headed off to the …" He trailed off again.

  Chane spun around, staring back the way they had come. Shade paced past Wynn, following his gaze as she sniffed the air. Even stranger, Wynn saw Chane's nostrils flare.

  "They are coming!" he whispered.

  "Who?"

  Then she heard the footsteps—more than one pair—and Shade's jaws snagged in her robe and jerked.

  "Douse the crystal!" Chane whispered.

  Wynn shoved the crystal in her pocket as they fled down the right-side passage. Chane got ahead and veered in against the wall. He pulled her in beside himself, and they flattened there.

  "Be ready to hurry on if they come our way," he whispered.

  Wynn peered up, still wondering why they hid. She just made out the branch head around the wall's gradual curve—and light was growing there. Chane pulled his cloak's hood forward, and Wynn did the same with her robe's cowl.

  Over the rise at the passage's head, a sharp point of light appeared. It glowed from the hand of a tall and slender figure in a white robe.

  "The elf," Chane whispered.

  Wynn glanced up. Was that what he'd smelled? She tensed as the tall elf paused and looked back. Behind him came a much shorter figure in a deep sea green cloak, followed by three Weardas.

  Duchess Reine was carrying a folded stack of clothing.

  Chane gripped Wynn's hand, flattening his other against the wall. She knew he was preparing to bolt, and his hand in hers felt as cold as the stone. Shade stood poised at her hip, unblinking eyes watching up the passage.

  The duchess approached the elf holding up a bright cold lamp crystal.

  Yes, that was what it was, and Wynn's eyes widened. There were no orders of the guild that wore white, so where had the elf acquired a guild crystal?

  The duchess passed the elf and disappeared down the other passage branch, the left one. The tall white-clad elf followed her, as did her bodyguards, and they all vanished from sight.

  Chane's grip slackened on Wynn's hand. "Let us continue down this direction for now."

  "No, wait," she whispered.

  Wynn wondered why the duchess was wandering these lonely backways under Sea-Side, the same in which Sliver had followed her brother. Wynn took a step upslope.

  "What are you doing?" Chane hissed.

  "You saw her," she whispered. "At the funeral, she and the others were the only ones allowed to leave the same way as the Stonewalkers."

  It was too dark to clearly see Chane's face, but she heard the incensed tone of his breathy voice.

  "You told me at the amphitheater's iron door that you did not know if she went with them."

  "Just the same," Wynn countered, "she's the best lead we have."

  She strode up the passage in soft steps, ignoring Shade's sudden huffing and growling. When she reached the top and peered around the sharp corner into the left branch, light receded below, beyond the passage's gradual curve.

  Wynn stepped out to follow, until Chane grabbed the back of her robe. She glared up at him, but he held fast, and Shade quickly slunk by down the passage branch. Only then did Chane let go, and he slipped in ahead. Wynn followed them both in silence.

  It wasn't long before Shade slowed her creeping advance, and Wynn saw that the surface of the walls had changed.

  She hadn't even noticed until she spotted thin seams next to her shoulder. Finely masoned mortarless blocks fit tightly together in place of smoothly chiseled mountain stone. Why were masoned walls needed in place of native rock?

  Shade stopped, and Chane swept back a hand in warning.

  Wynn slipped up behind him, peering around his side.

  The passage had straightened, but she could see a spot of light spreading on the walls ahead. There stood the elf with his stolen crystal, its light revealing the duchess and her guards.

  Duchess Reine looked worn. Strands of chestnut hair had loosened from her sea-wave combs. She merely stared at the passage's stone-block wall as her companions waited in silence. Then she took a deep breath, releasing it slowly.

  She handed her burdens to a Weardas and flattened her hands upon the wall's stone—but not together. Separated beyond shoulder width, her left landed distinctly higher than her right. She held them there, and none of the others made a sound, as if this act was familiar.

  Wynn couldn't tell if the duchess applied any pressure, but it didn't seem so. Then she heard the sound of stone grating.

  The block beneath the duchess's left hand shifted slowly inward. She lifted her hand, but the stone continued to sink. In another moment the grating grew louder as the block under her right hand sank as well. Wynn watched as the duchess repeated the process over painfully long moments, until prolonged touch sent five scattered wall blocks sliding inward, and all without any pressure applied.

  The grating amplified even more, echoing down the passage.

  Wynn had leaned so close to Chane that she felt him flinch with her.

  All of the blocks before the duchess slipped and twisted, spreading away into a hidden space beyond the wall. As the opening formed
, so did a risky notion in Wynn's mind.

  Perhaps there was a reason Sliver and her mother had lost track of Ore-Locks.

  No one with the duchess appeared surprised at what they saw. Yet none had opened the strange portal for her. Even if Wynn remembered which stones to touch, would the wall later respond for her or Chane? Did it even lead anywhere she wanted to go?

  Duchess Reine stepped through the opening, and her entourage began to follow.

  Wynn dodged around Chane.

  "She will see you!" he hissed.

  "And that's our only chance."

  She scurried down the passage before he could stop her.

  One Weardas saw her coming and jerked out his sword.

  "Captain!" he shouted.

  The only other one still in the passage was the tall elf in white. He twisted about, revealing a lined face of advanced age. Wynn hadn't covered half the distance when the duchess's voice carried from the opening.

  "Wait here!"

  All three Weardas encircled the duchess as she stepped out. The white-robed elf shifted closer, and everyone was watching Wynn. All of the duchess's people stood in the passage, so whom had she told to wait inside that hidden place?

  "Wynn … Journeyor Hygeorht," the duchess began.

  In those three words, her tone slipped from surprise to disdain. Wynn knew the duchess had gained more than a passing familiarity with the young sage who'd caused so much trouble.

  "Ah, the curious one," added the elder elf.

  When Wynn glanced at the crystal in his hand, the barest smile spread upon his lips, crinkling the corners of his mouth. He nodded slightly to her, but his eyes held no malice—unlike Reine's.

  "Duchess," Wynn said, bowing respectfully.

  Reine's gaze shifted slightly, and Shade and Chane stepped into plain sight.

  "What are you doing here?" she demanded. "How did you find this place?"

  "Domin High-Tower sent me … on a family matter," Wynn answered. Lying was getting far too easy for her. "I must speak with his brother among the Stonewalkers immediately. The domin said you would be at Dhredze Seatt, and if I located you, you could help."

  "Answer my question!" the duchess ordered.

  Wynn flinched, and then again for visibly flinching the first time.

  "We've been looking for you for several days. The Off-Breach Market was one place Domin High-Tower suggested. This man was sent as my guard."

  Wynn stepped slightly aside, gesturing to Chane.

  Reine's lips parted, but the elf spoke first. "And you are far out of place."

  Wynn wondered how this elf of no known guild order knew that Chane was a foreigner. But his gaze was low and to her other side. He was looking at Shade.

  A quick laugh rolled out of him, and Shade answered with a rumble. Puzzled as Wynn was that the elf seemed to recognize Shade, she couldn't afford the distraction. Not if she were to gain more from the duchess.

  Reine remained quiet and swept a hand downward before her bodyguards.

  "My lady?" the chin-bearded one returned sharply.

  "It's all right, Tristan," she said.

  Unlike the other two, he only lowered his sword rather than sheathing it, and with visible reluctance.

  "Very well, journeyor," the duchess continued. "Since our honored domin is in need, I would never refuse. Give me whatever letter you bear for him. I will see that Ore-Locks receives it."

  Wynn caught Reine's slip. Not only did the duchess know the Stonewalkers, she knew High-Tower's brother by name. Duchess Reine advanced half the distance and held out her hand.

  "Do not get any closer to her," Chane whispered.

  He spoke in Belaskian, so only Wynn understood, but the captain, the one called Tristan, inched forward with his gaze fixed on Chane.

  "I have no letter," Wynn replied.

  "And I have no patience for more of your meddling!"

  Wynn shook her head. "Forgive me, but as I said, this is a family matter … a private matter … difficult for the domin to speak of."

  "Then tell me. I will pass it to his brother privately."

  "Domin High-Tower's instructions were explicit. I must deliver it personally. Please take me to Ore-Locks."

  The duchess dropped her hand. Suspicion mounted in her expression.

  If the Stonewalkers truly guarded the texts, had Wynn just hinted too much concerning her true goal?

  Chane slipped a hand beneath his cloak to his sword's hilt. He did not dare step in front of Wynn and cause this whole standoff to suddenly crumble. Beneath the duchess's suspicion, he saw discomfort and uncertainty surface. It was not hard to guess what troubled her.

  If the duchess believed Wynn at all but did nothing to help, there could be repercussions with the guild. But if the duchess even suspected Wynn was lying …

  Chane's gaze slipped to the saber's hilt protruding from the duchess's cloak.

  It was not the weapon that troubled him but rather the way it hung, not high near the belt, dangling like the ornament of a royal. It was slung low, raked back, loose on its suspension strap.

  Duchess Reine knew how to use it—or at least how to set it for a smooth draw. If something went wrong, she could be on Wynn as the guards came at him. Even if he broke Wynn free, they would be running with no hope of ever getting near the texts.

  The captain watched him, never seeming to blink, but Chane ignored the man. He shut out everything, even Wynn, waiting for the duchess to speak again.

  "Surely, even for a family crisis," the duchess began, "High-Tower would have faith in the royal family. He would trust my discretion, as we have always trusted his."

  Chane caught no deception beneath those words—he felt nothing at all. Why could he not tell truth from lies when it mattered? Why did such warnings only come when he was not focused on trying to listen for deception?

  The duchess shifted weight between her feet. She was obviously disturbed by Wynn's sudden appearance. But that was all Chane could discern.

  "I can't break my word," Wynn insisted. "I'm allowed to speak only with Ore-Locks."

  "And I cannot take you to him," Reine answered flatly.

  Again, Chane could not tell if that was a lie. Wynn took a step forward, and he tensed.

  "This is urgent, Highness," she pleaded. "Domin High-Tower assured me you would help."

  "Of course I will," Reine answered sharply, and then sighed. "There may be a way."

  All amusement washed from the tall elf's lined face. "My lady," he warned.

  "I know, Chuillyon," she answered, and then studied Wynn. "Come with me."

  As the duchess turned away, Wynn advanced, but Shade did not. Chane found the dog standing tense, eyes locked on the duchess's back. Was Shade trying to catch the woman's memories?

  "Shade?"

  The dog shook herself, peered up at him, and then padded after Wynn. Chane hurried onward, still dumbfounded at the risks Wynn took.

  The duchess could detain them and send an inquiry to High-Tower, uncovering Wynn's deception. Wynn had already related that Duchess Reine, acting for Malourné's royals, had used her influence to keep the texts in the hands of guild premins. The Stonewalkers' involvement was still only an educated guess, but Chane was certain of two things.

  First, Duchess Reine was hiding something, and second, she was only playing Wynn's polite game for now.

  Wynn inhaled a sharp breath an instant before he stepped through the opening. His attention immediately fixed on what he saw there, even as he heard the bodyguards enter behind him.

  At the back of a hidden stone room was another pair of iron doors, just like the ones at the amphitheater of Old-Seatt. But these doors were guarded.

  A dwarf in plated leather armor stood to either side, and both held iron staves. Both wore sashes, one of russet with green lines and the other of pure plum. Embroidered emblems on each were different, so their clans were not the same. But both were obviously constabulary.

  Chane's frustration grew.

/>   A hidden door behind a hidden opening in a deep lonely passage—and guarded as well. The only other difference was a recessed iron panel behind the guard with the plum-colored sash.

  "Now, please," the duchess said.

  The dwarf turned, grasping the panel's handle, and then paused and glanced back. Duchess Reine turned to face Wynn.

  "You and yours will turn around, until told otherwise."

  Wynn pivoted, and Chane saw her dejected frown before he turned as well.

  He heard the panel slide open.

  A series of steady scrapes followed, like honed metal sliding on smooth stone. He could only guess at some set of rods being pressed or pulled, like the ones Wynn had described beyond the amphitheater's iron doors. It made him wonder why that other door's lock had been on the inside.

  A louder grinding began—once, twice, and three times.

  Chane shook his head. He knew this portal had the same triple-layered doors as the last.

  Every new sound reaffirmed how impossible it would be to come this way again if Wynn's gamble did not get them to the Stonewalkers. Despite his claim to her about using mixed intimidation and manipulation, that ploy had worked only on humans who had viewed Welstiel as a powerful noble. It would not work here.

  Whatever lay beyond the doors was of such importance that the dwarves took no chance of anyone finding—let alone gaining—the entrance.

  "This way," said the elf.

  Chane turned around to find the iron portal fully open. But he was not looking into another chamber, rather at the head of a wide passage that turned sharply left. The duchess and her elven advisor stepped through, disappearing around the portal's left.

  As Chane followed Wynn and Shade, he entered the passage's head and saw that it curved away, gradually downward. The Weardas came last, and the captain still had his sword out. Chane quickened his step, closing behind Wynn. Strategically set orange crystals lit their path.

  He remained silent, hearing only an indiscernible whisper or two pass between the duchess and the elf walking ahead. This was too easy, and going far too well from Chane's perspective.

  The journey continued along the tunnel's gradual spiral down—and down. Soon, Chane lost all sense of which direction they headed through the mountain. They had been walking for something less than an eighth-night when the tunnel finally ended in a small round chamber.