Tamsin gave her a sideways look and then laughed. “You’ve got a head for heights.”
“I get it from my dad.”
The bridge did not explode, and the platform on the far side was wide enough for them to stand comfortably three abreast. Unlike the twisting maze, the way ahead ran arrow straight for a hundred yards or more, before ending in the unmistakable glare of daylight. However, the walls on either side had been cut away in sections, turning the tunnel into a series of three interconnected rectangular rooms.
They advanced slowly, rifles at the ready, until they reached the entrance to the final, largest room. This accounted for half the total tunnel length, and was also by far the widest part. The vaulted ceiling was three stories high at its peak. Tempting sunlight flooded in from the far end. Nobody was in sight.
“Gilwyn and friends didn’t hang around for us then,” Widget said.
“Nope. Hopefully, Finn’s making them feel welcome.”
“I could try raising him on the radio, but I wouldn’t hold out much hope of getting a signal in here.”
“We can wait.”
The stone floor of the room was scored in a grid, imitating the look of large square tiles. A row of arches lined the walls, twelve on either side, but these were purely decorative features, shallow recesses carved into the rock, no more than a couple of feet deep. The carving was the first trace of ornamentation seen in Castle Farraon. The hall was completely empty, yet it clearly had a purpose.
Lori debated with herself whether to say anything. “I’ve worked with RPGs.”
“Rocket propelled grenades?” Tamsin looked surprised.
“No. Role-playing games. And I know this isn’t a game, but this setup is screaming Boss Fight at me.”
“Is that the same thing as smelling a trap that stinks to high heaven?”
“Yes.” Lori and Widget spoke together.
“Then I’m right with you. Have you looked up?”
Suspended over their heads were the silver teeth of a portcullis, and on the ground where they were standing was a matching set of mortise holes.
“Do we need to go out this way?” Lori asked. “As you said, Finn should have Gilwyn prisoner by now.”
“Chancy. The heat from the torches is fading. I can’t guarantee there’ll be enough to find our way back. Unless you can remember the route?” Widget finished hopefully.
“No,” Lori said.
“Ah. Well, how many skeletons did we see on the way here?”
“I didn’t keep count.”
“Nine.” Tamsin took a half step into the hall. “We have to go on. But I think we can guess how this will play. Is there anything in your bag o’ tricks for the portcullis?”
“A heavy duty, portable car jack?”
“That should do. And there’s no need for us all to go at the same time. I’ll cross first.”
This was the point in movies where everyone demanded the right to play the hero. Lori drew a breath, ready to speak. She did not get the chance.
“No. You stay here with Widget. And be ready for anything.”
Tamsin waited until the car jack was in place before advancing slowly into the hall, step by step, watching her footing. The risk had to be that one of the tiles would set off a trap, yet they all looked identical. Nothing else moved in the hall. She reached the halfway point.
Lori’s heart was pounding. Her hands were clammy, making the stock of her rifle feel slick. She glanced up at the silver teeth, a couple of feet in front of where she and Widget were standing.
Tamsin took another step.
With an ear-piercing screech of metal on metal, the portcullis dropped. At the other end of the hall, a matching grate also fell.
“Quick, help me with the jack.” Widget began pumping the handle.
Lori knelt, adjusting the position of the base so the rising column was squarely under a silver bar. With a groan, the portcullis began to rise slowly. Running footsteps made her look up.
Tamsin had raced back, not waiting to see what might happen next. In the hall behind her, the walls under the arches were disintegrating, flowing away as if turned to sand. Something had to be inside, something dangerous, but what? Suddenly, a blast of fire erupted, turning a wall to molten globules. Despite being half the room away, Lori felt warm air on her face.
The angle into the entrance of the nearest archway allowed Lori to look deep inside. At the back, curled around itself in a ball of fire-red scales, was a lizard, the size of a carthorse. It tumbled clumsily from the alcove, as if newly born, emerging from an egg. Farther down the hall, another twisted it neck and stared straight at her. Two yellow eyes blinked. Its mouth opened and a tongue of fire spewed across the room.
“Shit. Dragons.” Widget redoubled his efforts on the jack.
“I thought they’d be bigger.”
“Take it from me. These are big enough.”
Especially when there were twenty-four of them. The teeth of the portcullis were six inches clear of the floor. Other dragons emerged from the alcoves. The first out were becoming more alert as they roused from their dormant state. One reared on its hind legs. It buffeted the air with its wings and roared.
The gap was now eight inches. Tamsin lay down, ready to roll under the instant there was room, but the dragons had seen her. Half the reptilian heads were turned in Tamsin’s direction, and the dragons preferred humans barbequed, of that Lori had no doubt. Another roar. Another gout of fire. A dragon leapt into the air, bounding towards them.
The jack had done enough. Tamsin squirmed through, heedless of her torn shirt. Lori grabbed her hand, yanking her to her feet, and all three raced back up the passage. Where the next room widened out would provide a stone bulwark against the dragon’s breath. They got through. Lori and Tamsin dived one way, Widget the other. A river of flame roared past. Even out of the direct line, the wave of heat stung her face and hands.
“Are we safe here?” Lori wanted the reassurance.
“No. Once they’re fully revived, dragon fire can melt silver. They’ll be through in a few minutes.” Tamsin spoke between gasps. “The good news is, like everything in Annwyn, they can’t handle iron. The bad news is, their scales are too tough for ordinary bullets.”
“What do we do?”
Tamsin raised her voice. “Have you found them yet?”
“Yup. Coming over.” Widget skidded a new magazine across the floor to them.
Tamsin swapped it over on her rifle and then grinned at Lori. “Armour piecing shells.” She sidled closer to the corner. “You ready, Widget?”
“Yes, Captain.”
Another torrent of fire filled the tunnel between rooms. As it died away, Tamsin leaned around the edge and let loose with a burst of fully automatic fire, then ducked back before the next inferno arrived. On the other side of the passage, Widget mirrored her actions. Screeches and bellowing reverberated, loud enough to make the stone walls shake. But after the sixth barrage of bullets sent into the hall, the noise started to lessen. Tamsin continued until there was silence.
She leaned her head back against the wall behind her, breathing heavily. Sweat and soot marked the long line of her throat. Then her lips twitched. “That was fun.”
“Do you think we’ve got them all, Captain?” Widget called out.
“Wouldn’t like to count on it.”
“Should we check?”
“Yes.”
They cautiously made their way back. The bodies of dead dragons were piled high in the hall. Twice, Tamsin fired at signs of movement, but no more flames came. By the time they reached the portcullis, all was quiet. The silver had melted in spots, and globules dripped into the jack, rendering it unusable. The spikes of the portcullis had dropped back in the mortises.
“Okay. What do you have in your bag o’ tricks to get through this?” Tamsin asked.
Widget looked worried. “That’s just it, Captain. I’m not sure. Gelignite won’t shift it without bringing down the roof. The blow
torch will take ages to get us through, and I doubt I’ve got enough gas for the other side. The angle grinder is what we want, but it’s in for repair at the moment.”
“You’re saying we can’t get through this way, and we’ll be lost if we go back?”
“I’m sure I’ll think of something.” Widget knelt, staring at his rucksack.
“We could climb out,” Lori said.
“Up the fissure back there?” Tamsin looked surprised. “Did you look at it? The sides are sheer.”
“They’re not that bad, but anyway, hasn’t the bag o’ tricks got the climbing equipment in it?”
“That’s Hippo’s speciality. Unless you know how to use the stuff.”
Lori shrugged. “It’s been a while. But I used to go rock climbing with my dad.”
They had spent the weekend of her fourteenth birthday going up and down Cathedral Ledge. Mum could never see the fun in it, so they used to tease her with stories of sheer drops and overhangs. Lori felt a lump form in her chest. The next few times her dad had asked her to go rock climbing with him, she had made stupid excuses. She had never gone with him again, and after a while he stopped asking.
“Do you think you can get us out that way?” Tamsin’s voice jerked her back to the present.
“We could have a look.”
In fact, Lori had no trouble identifying a potential route out, and the slope was in their favour. Maybe not child’s play, but nothing a moderately fit, agile person could not handle.
Lori smiled. “It’ll be easy. Just follow me and take it one step at a time.”
Chapter Nineteen
Widget’s face appeared over the top of the lip. Lori kept tension on the line, while Tamsin lent a hand to pull him up.
The climb had been harder than Lori expected. Coaching two novices had been an extra challenge, as was the state of her muscles. She needed to get back in shape, and going to the gym was no substitute for real activity. When she returned to Earth she would contact Dad and see if they could fit in a weekend’s climbing. That was, if she returned to Earth. Lori slapped her thigh in annoyance at herself. There was no if about it. She had to stay positive.
While Widget packed away the equipment, Lori took the chance to look around. They stood on a patch of barren, scree covered mountainside. Fortunately, there was not much in the way of wind, but the air had an arctic bite. Despite the cold, a wall looking like heat-haze cut across the hillside a short way off. Specks of light glittered in the depths, shifting in random patterns. Through the distortion, Lori could see other snow clad peaks, yet they seemed strangely unreal.
“Is this the end of the world?”
Tamsin smiled. “You could call it that. Luckily, we don’t have to go through. But it totally screws up radio reception, so we can’t contact the others to come get us. We’re going to have to walk back.”
How long would getting to the yurt take? She had sweated while climbing, but now a chill was setting in. A night in the open would not be fun, though Widget was undoubtedly carrying emergency equipment to save them from freezing to death. She glanced at her wristwatch. The display said 13:07, a result that needed adjustment for the longer Annwyn days. She had been there just under two weeks, so…
Lori sighed and looked at the sun. As a means of telling the time, it was just as accurate, except she had no idea which side of the equator they were on.
“It’s nearly midday, pet.” Widget had guessed what she was trying to do.
“Thanks. I didn’t know whether we were north or south.”
“We’re nearly dead bang in the middle.”
Admittedly, they were partway up a mountain, but there had not been any great change in elevation on the journey from Mud Town. “Why is it so cold? Shouldn’t it be more tropical?”
“Annwyn is colder around the edges, and warmer in the middle.”
“How does that work?”
“It just does.” Widget stood and shrugged on the magic backpack. “Which way now?”
Tamsin pointed to a line of trees at the bottom of the slope. “Over there’s a building. I’m guessing it’s where the passage comes out.”
The top of a slate roof peeked through the firs. It turned out to belong to a small stable block, now empty. The nearby tunnel entrance was still closed off by its silver portcullis. Lori peered in cautiously. The mound of red scales at the far end was just visible in the gloom, but there was no sign of life, dragonish or otherwise.
“There was me hoping Gilwyn would have left us a horse or two.” Widget sniffed, in mock distress. “Selfish bastard.”
“But at least we know which way to go.” Tamsin set off along a narrow track through the woods. “According to our boggart friend, this should lead back to Farraon.”
The still air under the trees felt warmer, but as the sun dropped, so did the temperature. The underground passage was clearly a short cut, even with the tortuous route through the maze. It felt as if the forest went on forever, but finally, they emerged at the top of a cliff. Castle Farraon was laid out beneath them, in the light of the sinking sun.
The zigzag route of a staircase was cut into the cliff face, each bend reinforced by a short tower. The entrance at the top was guarded by another gatehouse, the twin of the one below. The track ran up to the closed gates.
Widget rattled the inset wicket. “Locked and barred, it feels like. So, pet, you’ve got two choices. Either you climb over like Hippo did, or I take this out with gelignite. Which is it?”
“Gelignite.” Lori’s fingers and toes were frozen, and the last thing she felt like doing was scrabbling around for handholds.
“Actually, we’ve got a third option.” Tamsin was facing in the opposite direction.
A black shape circled high in the sky. With the fading light, Lori could make out no details, beyond that it was too big and the wrong shape to be a bird. “Are you’re sure it’s not a dragon?”
“Yes.” Tamsin placed two fingers in her mouth and gave a piercing whistle
Immediately, the shape changed direction. A minute later and the flying horse landed with Hippo on its back.
“Hey. What kept you?”
“We took the scenic route. Dead pretty, you know.” Widget matched the bantering tone.
“Do you want to carry on walking, or shall I get your horses?”
“The horses, I think. We don’t want to be late for supper. Don’t you agree, Captain?”
Tamsin nodded. “Did you get Gilwyn?”
The smile on Hippo’s face broadened. “Sure. And I can tell you, he is not a happy bunny.”
* * *
Lori ducked through the doorway of the yurt, followed by Tamsin.
Shorty waved a bottle at them in welcome. “You’ve decided to join us?”
“If we’d have known you were breaking out the wine, we’d have got a move on.” Widget settled down by the others, relaxing around the stove, and grabbed the bottle from Shorty’s hand.
The Silver Ravens were clearly in high spirits. The same could not be said of their prisoner. Gilwyn sat propped against the side of the yurt, hands and feet bound. His expression was sullen and bitter. If he grieved for his companions, it was yet to make a dent in his anger. On the way back, Hippo had given an account of Gilwyn’s capture, including the deaths of two fay, and the escape of the other, who had fled before his horse could be shot from under him.
Tamsin crouched by Gilwyn’s side and exchanged a few words, spoken too softly to be overheard, then stood and ruffled his hair, as if he were a mischievous schoolboy. Gilwyn looked suitably furious.
Tamsin turned her back on him. “Well done, everyone. I think this is just about mission over. It’s too late to leave tonight, so we can take it easy, except Finn will sort out a rota to keep watch on Mr. Grumpy here. Don’t drink so much you can’t stay awake when it’s your turn. We leave after breakfast tomorrow morning.”
Happy cheers greeted her announcement. Even Finn had a smile on his face. Only Gilwyn looked as if
he was about to be sick. Lori watched him glare at the Silver Ravens in turn, finishing with herself. Did he remember her from Rianna’s study?
Once he was handed over in Caersiddi, Gilwyn’s life expectancy would not much exceed that of his fallen friends, but memory of Gaius quashed any feelings of pity for him. Except Rianna had insisted he be taken alive. She had some use for him, and it was unlikely to be pleasant. How much did he know about the queen’s plans? What would he have to say? And could she trust a word of it?
Lori had to know more, and there was one other source of information. She knelt beside BH. “Did Gilwyn have anything with him when he was captured?”
“Just what was in his saddle bags.”
“Were there any scrolls?”
“I don’t know. Shorty checked there were no weapons, but that was it.”
“Where are the bags?”
“Over there.” BH gestured with a half-empty bottle, and then offered it to her. “Would you like some?”
“Thanks, but no.” She wanted a clear head.
All the scrolls from the cabinet were there, including Morgaine’s spell. Lori settled down in the light of a lantern and flipped open her notepad.
“What are you doing?” Tamsin sat down well inside her personal space, and Lori did not mind in the slightest.
“Decoding.”
“Now?”
“The queen wants them done quickly.” Lori smiled, trying to look innocent. Tamsin was not to know this was a scroll she was not supposed to decode.
“I’m sure Her Majesty would let you off for one night. Especially after your contribution today.”
“What contribution? I couldn’t pull the trigger.”
“You aren’t the first person that’s happened to. But without you, we’d all have chased Gilwyn into the castle, while he was escaping out the back door. What made you suspicious?”
“As I said, the eyes. They were dead. Empty. Just like…”
“Just like?”
“Somebody you don’t believe exists.”
“Who?”
What was the point of saying anything? “A zombie. Like in the movies. You don’t believe in zombies, do you?”
Silver Ravens Page 24
