by Duncan Pile
“Better and better!” Hephistole exclaimed excitedly. “I can get on the roof if I know where it is, and hiding will be easy as I’ll be invisible. If you can get her to me, the three of us can transport out.”
“This could work,” Jonn said. “The biggest problem is getting up there, but I should be able to do it. There are two men guarding the entrance to that section of the warehouse. They know me, so I’ll be able to approach easily enough, and then I can take them by surprise. I’ll have to pick my moment, and they’re hard men to kill, but once past them the only problem is the man on the roof. One on one, I should be able to hold my own, whoever it is.”
“So how do I find the warehouse? And when do we do this?” Hephistole asked.
“It’s the only building of that size in the whole of the Thieves’ Quarter. You’ll find it. As for when we do it, it’ll have to be a week today. I’m off duty that day – it’s the only time I’ll definitely be free. The morning is probably best, when Belash is out and about, but I can’t guarantee the time of day; the Wrench will have work for me, and it all depends when I can slip away. I’m sorry Hephistole, but you may have to get there at dawn and hide there most of the day.”
“That won’t be a problem,” the chancellor responded. He lent forward and grasped Jonn’s forearm. “We’re almost there Jonn. In a week’s time, Adela will be free again and this will all be over.”
Jonn returned the Chancellor’s gaze gravely. “It won’t be over,” he said. “The women in that place are living in fear. He treats them like slaves and punishes them like dogs. After I’ve freed Adela, I’m going back to finish this.”
Hephistole withdrew his hand and regarded Jonn carefully. “I can only help you with the rescue,” he said. “The vow I swore as a magician stops me from interfering in law enforcement.”
“That’s okay,” Jonn responded. “I can do the rest with Trask. Just help me get Adela out.”
“That much I can do.” The chancellor paused thoughtfully. “Jonn, you don’t have to save the world you know. Beyond Adela, are you sure this is your battle?”
“You haven’t seen the cages,” Jonn murmured. “I have no choice – I can’t live comfortably in Helioport knowing what is going on in that warehouse. This is my battle Hephistole, and I won’t rest until every woman has been set free and Belash is dead.”
Hephistole nodded gravely. “You should go before you’re missed.”
Jonn stood up and gripped Hephistole’s hand. “One week from today – hide on the eastern corner of the warehouse roof. I will get Adela and meet you there at the earliest opportunity.”
“Understood,” Hephistole said, releasing Jonn’s hand. Jonn turned and left the office, heading back to the perilous double life he’d chosen for himself. Hephistole left the office too and watched Jonn’s broad back disappear down the road. “Good luck,” he said quietly, unable to shake the feeling that he was going to need it.
…
Later in the day, Loreill let Gaspi know that darkness had fallen, which meant they only had a few more hours to wait. They’d already planned for every last eventuality they could think of, so they passed the time by talking about the dragon. What did it mean that they’d discovered one of the legendary creatures, centuries after the last known dragon had roamed the planet? Was its discovery tied to their own fight against Shirukai Sestin? They explored possibilities, bandying ideas back and forth but, in the end, decided that it couldn’t be connected. The fire spirit had sent it back to sleep after all, which implied that the elementals didn’t think having a living, breathing dragon around would be a good idea right now. Heath insisted that not everything means something, however staggering the discovery, and that pretty much ended the conversation.
About an hour before midnight, they ate the last of the rations; once they were through the trapdoor, they wouldn’t get a chance to stop again, and if they were discovered, they’d have no choice but to fight their way through to the altar. If they were overcome, then they would die in the attempt. Whether the quest was successful or ended in failure, they’d have no use for rations anymore.
The last hour passed in silence, tension building among them as the moment approached. Gaspi couldn’t decide if he felt sick or excited, the nausea in his stomach competing with the nervous tingling that prickled every inch of his skin. Finally, Loreill let him know when midnight arrived. “It’s time,” he said. Relieved that the waiting was over, and everyone got to their feet. Gaspi looked at each person, the familiar lines of their much-loved faces suddenly significant. Would they all make it through the final part of the quest? He didn’t want to contemplate any other outcome.
“Emmy, use the bangle,” he said. She channelled power into it and disappeared. The elementals needed to travel in the harnesses until they’d reached the cellar, after which they’d lift them out so they could stick with Emmy in the middle of the group. He held Loreill’s gaze for a moment, peaking out of the harness on Sabu’s back, and urged him to stay safe. Loreill beamed the exact same thought back to him, waves of concern flooding the bond. Smiling tightly, Gaspi threaded power into the remaining two devices, and the elementals disappeared too. He tied off the spells so they would continue to draw on his power, even if his concentration was broken. It took very little energy to sustain both spells, but it would be hard to focus on the battle if he had to consciously control the flow of power. “Everyone, stay tight. If you get in trouble, call out. We’re not leaving anyone behind.”
“Let’s do it,” Baard growled, slapping Bonebreaker’s shaft against his hand.
“Okay, Baard, take the lead,” Gaspi said, and the giant strode off up the remaining stairs. They followed along swiftly, traversing the stairway and emerging onto the broad shelf at the top of the chamber. The shelf ran back a way and fed into a brief tunnel, which led directly to the trapdoor. As they approached it, Gaspi was flooded with adrenaline. Power flickered around his hands without even being consciously summoned. He rigorously subdued it. Until they were discovered, it was essential that they kept arcane signatures to a minimum.
Baard stopped under the trapdoor and replaced Bonebreaker in its harness. Iron rungs were built into the wall, leading up to the trapdoor. The giant climbed them quickly, reaching the top and placing his right hand on the hatchway itself. He pushed up with his fingertips, lifting it a crack. He turned his head and nodded at Gaspi, as if to say it was safe to go through, and then pushed it all the way up. Quietly, he climbed the remaining rungs of the ladder and disappeared into the cellar. When it was Gaspi’s turn, he paused to let Emmy go in front of him. When he heard her whisper that she was up, he climbed the ladder himself, emerging into a low, dusty cellar – a broad room with deep alcoves carved from the very rock of the mountain, each of which was stacked with barrels and crates.
He lifted Loreill and Lilly from their harnesses as the others climbed the ladder behind him. Another whisper from Emmy told him where she was, and he placed the elementals carefully on the floor. Heath was the last up the ladder, and turned to close the trapdoor when light suddenly blazed across the room.
“Get them!” a deep voice shouted. Shamans sprang from every shadow, power surging around the heads of their staffs. Before he had a chance to react, a massive slap of power knocked Gaspi from his feet. He groped around, trying to push himself back up to his knees, but black spots danced before his vision, threatening him with unconsciousness. He stopped moving and breathed slowly in and out, trying to regain control of himself while all around him the sounds of a scuffle continued. He heard someone cry out in pain – Taurnil?
His arms were grabbed by giant, crushing hands, and he was hauled to his feet. His dagger was taken from him, along with the baldric of throwing knives he wore around his chest. He drew on his power, ready to break away from his captors.
“Don’t do it,” a low, guttural voice said in his ear. He looked around, and quickly saw they were in deep trouble. Every one of his friends was restrained, just a
s he was – that is with the exception of Emmy, who must still be invisible, along with Loreill and Lilly. He had every confidence he could overcome the shaman who had a hold on him, but Taurnil, Sabu, Heath, Baard and Talmo were all vulnerable without their weapons. Emmy, Loreill and Lilly might be invisible, but they could still get injured or killed if a fight broke out, perhaps by his own spell-work! He glanced at Lydia and Rimulth, who could fight back as effectively as he could if they chose to, but they were holding back too, perhaps for the same reason he was. The fire and air spirit were nowhere to be seen. Reluctantly, Gaspi let go of his power. This wasn’t the time to fight. Emmy and the elementals were still free, and might be their best chance for escape if they waited for the right moment.
“Good choice,” the ogre holding Gaspi said.
A large shaman took a step towards Baard. “The Gunthaak wants to see you,” he said derisively. “Let’s go.”
At his command, they were jostled towards a stairway in the corner, leading up and out of the cellar. The stairway opened up onto a long, open corridor, and the shamans hustled them along at quite a pace, forcing them to take hurried steps to avoid being pushed the whole way. Gaspi was busy piecing things together as he walked. The shaman had said they were being taken to the Gunthaak, and Bonebreaker was supposed to be Gunthaak-bane. What he couldn’t understand was why this Gunthaak wanted to be anywhere near something that was fabled as his downfall. It didn’t make any sense at all!
They were led through the temple complex, climbing up stairways built for smaller feet than the ogres’, passing through crumbling archways and along wide corridors. The ogres had to duck their heads at every doorway, squeezing their way through passageways built by human hands. Gaspi tried to picture the map Voltan had left with them, hoping they were heading in the direction of the altar, but there was no way he could work out which side of the temple they were on unless they passed a window.
They reached a fourth stairwell, and he finally got a glimpse out of a narrow, arched window but, even though it was a clear, starlit night, he couldn’t see clearly enough to be sure they were heading in the right direction!
Two stairwells later, they approached an enormous set of double doors, carved from heavy oak and fitted into an archway that was twice the height of the tallest ogre. The shaman out front lifted his staff and rapped heavily on the doors. Moments later, the left-hand doorway was hauled open from the inside, revealing an enormous hall on the other side. It was packed from wall to wall with shamans, crowded around heavy tables, drinking from enormous goblets. The noise was phenomenal – a raucous chorus of voices raised as if in competition with each other – but that was nothing compared to the smell, which stung Gaspi’s nostrils. One of his companions coughed – he couldn’t tell who – assaulted by the overpowering odour of hundreds of ogres gathered in one place.
As he was pushed through the doorway, Gaspi looked up at vaulted ceiling covered in delicate carvings, and tall but narrow arched windows that may once have held beautifully coloured glass, but which now were covered in a thousand skins, nailed to the wall to keep the wind out. Gaspi’s heart raced. This had to be the Sanctum. It had clearly been a place of worship, utterly defiled by the ogres, but at one time it had clearly been a place of devotion, and where there was worship, there ought to be an altar. Gaspi ignored them, looking for an altar. There! At the front of the room, in a raised sanctuary, stood a block of creamy stone. That had to be it!
BOOM BOOM! The whole room quietened instantly. BOOM BOOM! The sound came again, and every head turned to face the table nearest the sanctuary. Just in front of the dais there was an enormous chair, a crude throne made of great stone slabs, and seated on it was the largest ogre Gaspi had yet seen – by a considerable margin. It was yet another foot taller than the Kaas, broader by far, with heavier musculature and powerful limbs. Instead of the raised ridge of bone the Kaas sported, it had actual horns – great gleaming black things that thrust out from its forehead and twisted to fine points. Its hair, a great shock of white, fell in thick braids – a stark contrast to its ebony skin – and its broad, swarthy face was both cruel and intelligent. It wore a long black cloak, and in its right hand it held a staff the size of a small tree, covered from end to end in runic carvings. It was the base of that staff, knocked against the floor, which had caused the booming sound.
Slowly, it raised itself to its feet, towering over everyone there. “Which one of you calls himself Gunthaak-bane?” he asked, his voice a bass rumble Gaspi could feel through the floor.
Baard wrenched his arms free of his captors. “Give me the weapon!” he said.
“Don’t be stupid,” one of the shamans said.
“Well show ’im it then!” Baard insisted.
The shaman eyed Baard warily, looking for signs of trouble, but then he turned and walked to the ogre carrying Bonebreaker. He took it from him and lifted it up for the horned ogre to see.
“That’s Gunthaak-bane!” Baard called.
The horned ogre rushed crossed the room with long, powerful strides. “You wield this?” it asked when it drew near. Its massive face lowered until it was inches from Baard’s.
“Yeah, it’s mine,” Baard responded. The red-bearded warrior didn’t show a hint of fear.
“Then you are Gunthaak-bane,” it sneered. “Not the weapon.”
“Whatever,” Baard said. “Look, we’re not ’ere ter pick a fight. We jus’ need somethin’ from this temple an’ then we’ll be off. Yeh can keep Bonebreaker fer all I care.”
The Gunthaak growled in the back of his throat. “You fail to understand, little man. Your arrival has caused me a lot of trouble. Even now, my Urzaaks and Kaas are fighting in the valleys, and in the lower levels of this temple. You are Gunthaak-bane and I am the Gunthaak. There’s only one way to end this.”
Gaspi yelled out in warning as the Gunthaak tensed, but Baard had seen it too, bringing his arms up just in time to catch a brutal back-hand that knocked him from his feet and sent him sliding across the floor.
“You think you can fight me, little man? You think you are Gunthaak-bane? You are not even Urzaak-bane!” The Gunthaak rushed at Baard before he could even get to his feet, barrelling into him and sending him tumbling over a stone table, where he disappeared from sight. The Gunthaak threw his head back and roared with laughter. “To think we have lived so long in the shadow of such a feeble prophecy!” He banged the butt of his staff against the floor, and suddenly it surged with the light of arcane power. Of course – he wasn’t just physically powerful – he was a magic-user as well. A mage-king, Lydia had called him.
Gaspi agonised over what to do. He had to help Baard before this brute killed him, but doing so would be dangerous in the extreme. He thought about using the chimera but quickly dismissed the notion. Would it know to attack the Gunthaak, or would it just attack the nearest shaman? Besides, Hephistole had said the enchantment only lasted for minutes, and there were too many enemies to overcome in such a short time. He could intervene himself but the rest of the party was still bound and, although Lydia and Rimulth could call on the elementals, the others wouldn’t be able to break away. He might be able to save Baard, but it would put everyone else’s lives at risk instead.
An enormous crashing sound interrupted his tortured musings. Everyone, including the Gunthaak, turned to look at the enormous doors of the chamber as they came smashing down. Urzaaks and Kaas spilled into the room, roaring with fury and attacking the nearby shamans. The shamans fought back, using force strikes to slam Urzaaks into the wall. Gaspi had never seen such violence. It was a frenzy. One shaman killed an Urzaak with a sizzling blot from its staff, only to have its head gripped from behind by a towering Kaas and ripped right off its shoulders.
“ENOUGH!!!” the Gunthaak roared as he leapt onto a table. The whole room froze, every head swivelling to face him. Combatants froze in mid-battle, halted by the undeniable voice of authority. Baard rose unsteadily from behind the table he’d tumbled over. His ha
ir was matted with blood. “This can’t be allowed to happen,” the Gunthaak growled.
But some of the Urzaaks had caught site of Baard. “Gunthaak-bane!” they cried, hoisting their weapons in salute.
“STOP THAT!” the Gunthaak shouted, and the noise died down. “Can’t you see, I am already fighting the one you call Gunthaak-bane. If he is truly the one the prophecy speaks of, he will kill me. If he is not, he will die.”
“Where is his weapon?” one of the Kaas shouted.
“Over there!” Gaspi shouted, pointing at the shaman that held Bonebreaker.
A unilateral growl of fury sounded from hundreds of ogre throats. “You make him fight without his weapon?” the Kaas spat. “The weapon is the sign. You seek to cheat prophecy!” The angry growl sounded again, louder this time. Violence seethed in the air, ready to erupt.
“WAIT!” the Gunthaak called. “If I give him the weapon, and we fight, will you accept the outcome?”
The Kaas looked around at his fellows, many of whom were nodding in favour. “We will accept it, Gunthaak, but it will not be you that is left standing when this is over.”
The Gunthaak growled deep in his throat, one of the most menacing sound Gaspi had ever heard in his life. “When I prevail, your life will be counted in heartbeats, Kaas.” The Kaas bowed his head in acknowledgement. “Give him the weapon!” the Gunthaak commanded. The shaman holding Bonebreaker walked over to Baard, and as he did so, Gaspi felt a little surge of power. It was fleeting, gone too quickly to sense its source, but he knew he wasn’t mistaken. The shaman passed Baard the double-headed axe, and it was only then that Gaspi realised what he’d sensed. Baard didn’t look remotely dazed anymore, and the flow of blood from his head had dried up completely. Emmy! Gaspi smiled tightly. If this was a matter of destiny, it was only fair that it began on an even footing. Emmy had undone the damage done to Baard so far and, now that he had Bonebreaker, perhaps he had a chance. Certainly, the dark aura surrounding its heavy head had intensified, glowering with unknown power. Baard stepped out from behind the table, swinging Bonebreaker experimentally. He approached the Gunthaak without fear, looking up into its swarthy face.
