Through Stone and Sea ndst-2

by Barb Hendee

  Wynn pushed at Chane, shouting, "The staff! It'll burn!"

  "Be still!" he said, holding her tight. "Stay beneath my cloak."

  Wynn bumped against Shade as she craned her head halfway around Chane's shoulder. She saw the captain kick the staff aside and then gasped as fire raced over his other foot. It struck another guard dead on. Then the twisting snake of flames shot toward the duchess.

  The staff lay not far from the captain's smoldering cloak.

  Wynn shouted in Chane's ear, "Let me go!"

  His body felt like an immovable wall.

  Wynn watched Reine cringe against Chuillyon, pushing on him. The tall elf foolishly held his place with eyes closed. There was nothing Wynn could do but shout at them, "Get out!"

  The fire ended in a sudden splash.

  Barely a yard before the duchess, flames fanned into the air, and Wynn couldn't help a small gasp.

  Fire licked and crawled, but it advanced no farther. Red-orange flickers spread over some unseen barrier. Where flames danced, they vanished, as if eaten away into nothing, until the fire's trailing end rushed in.

  It fueled one last surge and then dissipated in the air, and the cavern dimmed instantly. All that remained were heated drifts of steam rising from wet stone as the burned Weardas lay gripping his legs and moaning.

  The staff lay free and clear in sight.

  Wynn stiffened at a loud hiss filling the cavern. Before she looked for the wraith, a dark hulk leaped out of the far wall past the captain.

  Cinder-Shard landed with a thud in the dead fire's steaming path. His eyes fixed toward the cavern's center as an eager grimace spread on his wide face.

  "Make me a path, you bothersome trickster!" he growled.

  Wynn didn't know whom he meant until a soft laugh pulled her attention. Behind the stunned duchess, the elf in white smiled openly.

  Chuillyon's large amber eyes focused toward the cavern's heart. He lifted his hand from Reine's shoulder and spread his fingers.

  Wynn felt the air turn chill as it gusted suddenly, and she sucked in a frightened breath. As Chuillyon's brow wrinkled in puzzlement, and Cinder-Shard straightened in shock, Wynn knew what had happened.

  She'd felt that same shift of air twice in the night streets of Calm Seatt. The wraith had vanished, but not for long.

  "Where is it?" Cinder-Shard shouted, looking around wildly.

  "It's coming!" she whispered sharply in Chane's ear. "Get me some time!"

  Wynn pushed around Chane, charging for the staff, as she dug in her pocket for the glasses. She finished only two steps.

  Coiling darkness, like black smoke, thickened on her right as two Stonewalkers came out of the walls.

  The wraith materialized directly before Reine.

  Sau'ilahk held the main entrance in his thoughts as he winked through dormancy. He instantly reappeared to see the duchess's face flushing white with fear.

  But he was more than an arm's length away.

  That was not right. He should have awakened almost atop her. Something was pressing him back, as if he had become partially physical.

  Sau'ilahk stared over the duchess's head into large amber eyes.

  The tall elf merely glared back, a soft smile upon his pressed lips.

  A saber slashed through Sau'ilahk, but he did not look at the duchess, only at the elf who somehow impeded him. He needed a hostage more than ever and pushed against the resistance, reaching for Reine as he called his servitors.

  Kill the white one!

  Sau'ilahk heard snarls, and he felt teeth burn through his incorporeal leg.

  The wraith coalesced before the duchess as Chane pivoted away from Wynn. One moment was all she needed, though he hoped she gave him warning before igniting the crystal—and that his damp cloak would be enough to protect him if he crouched beneath it.

  Then Chane saw the duchess swing her saber.

  It passed through the black figure as Shade scrambled in from behind. Shade's jaws clacked through the wraith's robe.

  Chane rushed in on the dog's tail. Shade yelped—in unison with a wail from the wraith—but as Chane closed, the side of the entrance bulged in a fist-size lump.

  A red glow swelled within that moving nodule of stone.

  One burning eye, like a lump of molten glass, erupted from rock. It leaped out of the stone. The spindly-legged thing arched straight for the elf's head. The wraith reached for the duchess, but its movement was so slow, as if it struggled to get to her.

  Chane senses widened as he swung at the wraith's back side.

  His hand passed through the black cloak, and cold like a thousand icy needles ran up his arm as the thing with the burning eye became clear.

  That fist-size stone insect, with four legs ending in barbs, shattered in the air a forearm's length from its target. The light of its eye suddenly died, and dull pieces of stone rained down. The elf stiffened as these struck his head and shoulders.

  A gravelly voice shouted from behind, "Maksag, choyll-shu'ass Kêravägh!"

  Shuddering in pain from striking the wraith, Chane felt someone grab his cloak's collar and jerk him aside.

  Wynn snatched up the staff. The captain spotted her as she saw something break apart in the air above Chuillyon. Whatever the thing had been, it broke apart, showering down upon the elf, as Chane and Shade assaulted the wraith.

  Cinder-Shard rushed by, shouting in Dwarvish, "Out, you dog of Kêravägh."

  His last word baffled her as she shoved the glasses over her eyes. Then she faltered for one breath.

  Cinder-Shard grabbed Chane's cloak collar and tossed him away as if throwing a rag.

  "Chane, cover up!" Wynn shouted.

  The wraith whirled around, and Shade dodged out of its reach. It froze, its dark-filled cowl centering on her as she leaned the staff's crystal out.

  Someone grabbed Wynn from behind.

  Strong arms forced hers down, dragging the staff as well. About to thrash and shout, Wynn stiffened at an unbelievable sight.

  Cinder-Shard's large hands clenched the front of the wraith's robe.

  Horror filled Sau'ilahk, as he had not known in centuries. The bristle-bearded dwarf wrenched him sideways toward the cavern wall.

  "We must drive it out—banish it!" another Stonewalker shouted.

  "No!" roared the one clutching him. "This mongrel of the Nightfaller is mine! I will finish it now!"

  Sau'ilahk clawed at the elder Stonewalker's grip. But regardless that this one somehow held him, his own hands slid through the dwarf's thick arms, touching nothing. Fear overwhelmed him. He could not think quickly enough.

  "Into stone … with you!" the dwarf growled at him.

  Sau'ilahk heard Wynn and one of the Weardas shouting. But he was so weak, so depleted. Everything vanished from sight as he was pushed into the cavern wall.

  He felt his form turn corporeal, almost as if he were flesh once more. Bone and sinew began to harden, like the instant he had pierced the first Stonewalker with his hand and that one had stepped back into the wall.

  Sau'ilahk released a hiss but heard nothing within stone.

  Terror broke his will, and exhaustion dragged him down.

  He vanished into dormancy.

  Chapter 19

  Wynn ceased struggling against the captain's hold. Shade paced before her, alternately snarling at the captain and staring where the wraith had vanished. The burned Weardas was down, moaning in pain, and Danyel's nose was bleeding. Sword held out, Danyel stood angrily over Chane, who was conscious but still on the floor where Cinder-Shard had thrown him.

  Wynn stared at Cinder-Shard's arm penetrating stone. He'd somehow gripped the wraith, as if it were whole and solid. Realization set in. Any doubt concerning the texts' movements was gone.

  The Hassäg'kreigi—Stonewalkers—could pass through solid stone and earth. They were carrying the texts in and out of guild grounds.

  Cinder-Shard jerked his arm from the wall, and Wynn's numbed mind reawoke.

&n
bsp; "Did you kill it?" she asked wildly. "Is it finished?"

  He stood looking at his hand in bewilderment.

  "Master?" a familiar voice called.

  Ore-Locks stepped into sight, closing quickly on Cinder-Shard.

  Another Stonewalker pushed past them and ran his broad hand over the rough, damp wall. Gray-blond hair hung around his bony face of jutting brow, cheekbones, and chin. His hand stopped, thick fingers tensed, and a seething grimace twisted his features. He shook his head at Cinder-Shard.

  Wynn sagged in the captain's grip. Whatever the master of the Stonewalkers had tried, it had failed—the wraith had escaped.

  Cinder-Shard stepped straight to her and jerked the staff from her grip. Before he said anything, another voice shouted out.

  "You … miscreant!"

  Wynn's gaze shifted instantly.

  Reine stood before Chuillyon, saber in hand, shuddering in fright or rage, or both. She took a step toward Wynn, but Chuillyon restrained her. Chane immediately regained his feet.

  "Who was that?" the duchess demanded.

  "The wraith," Wynn answered hoarsely. "An obscure myth … the only one that fits it."

  Reine's eyes closed in a scowl.

  "It killed sages … for the folios," Wynn insisted, "likely Hammer-Stag, too. I thought we'd destroyed—"

  "You led a murderer here!" The duchess's voice cracked with strain.

  Wynn fell silent, unable to deny this. The only way the wraith would've come to Dhredze Seatt was by following her. It hadn't given up any more than she had. But if the sun crystal hadn't destroyed it in the streets of Calm Seatt, then what chance did she have now? Why did this thing seek the texts with such vicious determination?

  Reine's gaze lifted slightly, perhaps to the captain. "Lock them up!" she ordered.

  Chane inched forward, and Danyel pressed a sword's point to his chest as a stocky female Stonewalker pulled a wide dagger and flanked him.

  "Chane!" Wynn warned, and shook her head.

  The sun crystal was still their best way to hold off the wraith, and Chane's blindly assaulting Stonewalkers and royal guards wouldn't help. Even if they regained their belongings and eluded capture, they had no way out. The sea people blocked the tunnel, and warrior thänæ guarded the domed chamber above the lift.

  Wynn had to prove herself indispensable before anyone here would want her help. As always, the texts seemed the only chance to find answers.

  "We have no prison here," Cinder-Shard growled. "There is only one sealable chamber, but—"

  "No!" the gray-blond elder snapped, and turned on Cinder-Shard. "The living do not belong—"

  "I don't care," the duchess shouted. "Put them in some hell, if you have to. They already know too much. But keep them contained until we understand whom we're dealing with!"

  Ore-Locks, the middle-aged female, and the bony-faced elder all watched Cinder-Shard expectantly. The elder one still shook his head in warning, but Cinder-Shard focused only on the duchess.

  Reine shrank a little, as if reproached. Even Chuillyon looked less than pleased by what she demanded.

  "Very well," Cinder-Shard finally answered.

  The duchess exhaled, but Chuillyon frowned. Then the elf crouched.

  Retrieving Wynn's and Chane's discarded belongings, he glanced at Cinder-Shard with clear disapproval. Cinder-Shard turned away, heading for the cavern's far-left end. The female Stonewalker lifted the burned Weardas, carrying him.

  "He needs attention," she stated flatly. "I will take him to Amaranth."

  Wynn had no idea who or what that might be. The captain released her, shoving her onward as Chane was herded into motion. Wynn grabbed Shade's scruff to keep the dog out of the way, but kept her eyes on Cinder-Shard, trying not to guess where they were going. Instead, she groped for any notion to pique her captors' interest… .

  Something they might half believe, enough to want more and thereby take her to the texts. The duchess's reaction, like that of Captain Rodian of the city guard, suggested that any mention of the undead would only make things worse.

  "Smarasmôy, this is not right," Chuillyon called from farther back. "You know it!"

  "This is not your domain," Cinder-Shard answered.

  He continued on, leading the way into an adjoining cavern. With no orange crystals in its walls, the space was lit only by dim phosphorescence. Strangely shaped lumpy protrusions rose head-high among the shadowy columns of joined stalagmites and stalactites. But they crossed too quickly, exiting into another dim space before Wynn made out anything.

  Amid the rush, something occurred to her—something Cinder-Shard had shouted.

  Maksag, choyll-shu'ass Kêravägh!

  Out … Leave … you dog of … Kêravägh?

  Did he think the wraith was a minion of … what? Wynn was sickened at the possible answer as she tried to break apart that final word.

  It had to be a proper noun, but seemed older than the Dwarvish she knew. The root "kêrakst" referred to "black" or "blackness." Not in color but as in nightfall, when twilight ended and the last of daylight vanished. But the suffix was baffling, like a root word conjugated to an infinitive—then declinated into a vocative noun?

  "The Nightfallen One …" Wynn whispered absently. "The Nightfaller?"

  Cinder-Shard slowed.

  Wynn clenched her mouth shut, but he resumed his pace without glancing back. She grew chill as a connection formed, though she wasn't certain of her translation.

  Hkàbêv meant "Beloved" in Iyindu, an ancient form of Sumanese. Il'Samar and in'Sa'umar in varied dialects meant "the Night Voice." Most Aged Father of the an'Cróan and Anmaglâhk had a very old Elvish term for it.

  Nävâij'aoinis—the Ancient Enemy.

  Had Cinder-Shard spoken a lost Dwarvish title for the enemy of many names? Was the enemy known among this hidden sect of dwarves?

  They twisted rightward through more columns in another low-ceilinged cavern. Cinder-Shard stepped out into a long, straight tunnel.

  Chuillyon had also whispered something before the wraith's fire had raced in. But Wynn's thoughts were so wrapped around Cinder-Shard's utterance that all she remembered for the moment was …

  Chârmun … Sanctuary.

  This was the name of the ancient great tree within Aonnis Lhoin'n—First Glade—at the heart of the Lhoin'na's homeland. That thought vanished as Wynn saw the path's end.

  Crystals in the walls illuminated an archway of heavy framestones, but its opening was nearly black. Drawing closer, she saw it was walled off with age-darkened iron. There was no lock or handle, and Wynn grew frantic.

  It looked like the triple-layered portal beneath the amphitheater. Her thoughts raced for a way to reason with the duchess, but she couldn't think of anything certain.

  Cinder-Shard closed on the archway's left side.

  Wynn heard metal slide evenly across stone, clinking to a stop, but she couldn't see around his broad form. More grating and clacks followed, and the archway's iron wall began to move. It slid left to right, rather than splitting down the middle, and behind it was another. The second door began grating after the first.

  Cinder-Shard stepped aside, exposing an open stone cubby. A three-by-four grid of iron rods was pressed or protruded at varied depths. She'd seen something similar with her mantic sight on the other side of the amphitheater's door. But here, the lock was on the outside.

  Wynn realized how Cinder-Shard had opened the amphitheater doors. He'd passed right through the wall, opening them from the inside. She and Chane possessed no such ability, and they were about to be locked away.

  "Please!" she shouted, trying to turn. "You have to—"

  She was cut short as someone grabbed the back of her collar. A third iron door began to open, and Cinder-Shard pointed into the darkness beyond it.

  "Mind the landing," he warned. "Do not slip and fall."

  "Inside!" the captain ordered.

  A firm hand shoved Wynn between her shoulder blades.

/>   She pulled Shade along before the dog turned to snap. Chane stumbled in next, wheeling about, and the captain warned him back with a sword. Cinder-Shard returned to the archway's side, and Wynn heard iron rods being shifted.

  "The wraith is after the texts!" she cried. "It won't stop killing until it finds them!"

  The first iron door was half-closed, and she sidestepped, leaning into the narrowing space.

  "Give me access to the texts!" she shouted. "Let me find out what it wants … or something to help us fight it!"

  Chane grabbed her, jerking her back as the door clanged shut.

  Wynn shuddered twice in the full darkness, hearing the duller thud of the second and third doors.

  Tightly holding her sea-wave comb with its drop of white metal, Reine hurried all the way to Frey's chamber. Danyel followed on her heels. Pressing the droplet to the lock, she opened the door. All of her pent-up fear threatened to break free.

  "Frey!" she called.

  He stood in the pool, gripping the gate's bars, and staring into the tunnel. When he looked back, he smiled softly, sadly at her. His hair was still soaked, but his gaze was clear.

  "Highness?" Danyel whispered.

  Reine glanced over her shoulder. He hung in the doorway, as if uncertain whether to enter or not. His nose had stopped bleeding, though he wiped it again with his sleeve. She cared only that Frey was unharmed—and in control of his wits.

  Reine stepped to the pool's rear ledge, holding out her hand.

  "Come," she called softly. "Please."

  Frey waded over and reached up. As he took her hand, he gently pulled. Reine shook her head, trying to smile.

  "No, I have to leave again. You come out of there."

  She had to return quickly to Cinder-Shard and learn how he intended to ensure Frey's safety.

  Frey didn't move until she pulled. He climbed up to stand before her, and nothing remained of his brief smile.

  "It's all right," she said, touching his chest. "Danyel will stay."

  Frey glanced at the bodyguard and frowned. Resentment was at least another sign he was rational. She knew what this looked like—what it was—and didn't care for putting him under guard any more than he did. There was no choice.