He shook his head in confusion and then slowly circled the pyramid. There was nothing around the back of the pyramid, but perhaps two hundred paces away, he noted a second, identical structure, also obscured by bushes. Even farther away, he recognized a third. All three were in line, like a soldier’s defensive post. “How many are there?” he wondered out loud.
“I don’t know,” she said, “but I don’t like them. We should go.”
With every step they took away from the pyramid, they felt more relief.
#
The ravine led deeper within the mountain, leaving all the trees behind and becoming stonier, with tall, cliff-like walls on either side. Owen found a small cold stream, and they drank their fill. He said nothing to Fioni, but he hadn’t seen any animal sign near the water, nor had he seen any since passing the line of black pyramids. It was as if the animals avoided coming near the mountain.
Just ahead, a narrow crevice cut right into the mountain, with towering walls on either side. The sky was red, the shadows lengthening. When will Serina awake? Soon, he imagined. An hour, maybe two. He stood before the crevice. The opening was wide enough for a wagon, but it narrowed the farther in one went, disappearing into darkness. The stench of rotten eggs drifted from the crevice. “Gods’ balls, what is that?” Fioni asked.
“Smells like yellow-stone.”
“What?”
“Yellow-stone, also called Drake’s-Blood.”
She shook her head, her face wrinkled in distaste.
“Well, you find it in caves up north, sometimes. Looks like yellow crystals or cake. Mix it up with dung, and it makes decent fertilizer. Old wives say if you burn it in a home, it’ll drive away evil spirits and pests.”
She snorted. “It’d drive me away.”
“We’ll need a torch,” he said, staring into the dark crevice.
He pulled handfuls of moss from nearby stones while she looked about for a suitable tree branch. By the time she returned with a thick branch, he had a large pile of moss strips ready. Taking the stick from her, he wrapped the moss shreds about it, until the head of the branch was thick with tightly bound moss. “I’m going to need your booze.”
She made a face but handed the small flask over. He poured its contents over the moss, soaking it thoroughly. The moss caught fire with a single spark from her flint, casting a bright-orange light on the stony walls of the crevice. Holding the fluttering torch out, he led her into the crack in the mountain. The stony ground was worn smooth, as if it had once been a passage. At several points, the passage twisted, changing direction, with overhanging rock completely obscuring the sky above them the farther in they went, before becoming a true tunnel, seemingly carved out of the side of the mountain. The air became moist, with droplets of water running down the stones. The passage narrowed, requiring them to turn sideways to keep going. Fioni brushed up tightly against him, clearly uncomfortable with the tight space. The stench of yellow-stone grew stronger, the air thick with warm moisture, creating a glowing halo around their torch. There were cave systems like this in the north, with secret grottos, long-valued by northerners.
“Owen,” said Fioni, a trace of surprise in her voice. “Look at the walls.”
He had already noted the clearly worked walls ahead of them. Someone had used tools to chip away the stone, widening the passage. “I had suspected as much,” he admitted. “I think this is another passage into the mountain.”
“Why is the air so wet?”
For the first time in days, he felt a surge of happy expectation. “If this is what I think it is, I think you’re about to find out.”
A series of oddly paced steps led down into a vast natural chamber filled with steam and hot, moist air. He led her down the steps, taking her hand and pulling her along with him across the vapor-filled air. Hundreds of paces wide, the chamber had been expanded, its walls and floor worked smooth with tools. And, just as he had suspected, sitting in the center of the chamber, lined by regular white stone blocks, was a massive steaming pool of water sunken into the stone floor. Heat trails drifted from the water.
She inhaled in sudden surprise. “Gods, what is that?”
He led her closer. “A hot spring. I suspected as much but didn’t want to get your hopes up.”
She made a face of distaste. “For what?”
“You don’t have hot springs in the islands, I assume?”
“I’ve never even heard of such a thing,” she said with wonder.
A crust of white minerals had formed around the waterline of the pool. Water dripped and burbled. And while the stench of sulfur was strong, so was the damp smell of wet rocks and rich mud. Fioni moved past him and knelt beside the stone-lined pool and then dipped a finger into the water, quickly yanking it back again. “It’s hot,” she said as though she didn’t believe it.
He smirked, shaking his head. “That’s the point.”
He left her there while he crossed the cavern to its far side, where another tunnel led farther on. At the opposite end of the tunnel, steps led back up, twisting and climbing. He moved back to join Fioni, thrusting the lit torch between two stones to hold it upright. “I think the passage has cut right through the side of the mountain. It must be a shortcut, much faster than climbing the pass the others took. I think we’re ahead of them now.”
“What now?”
He stripped off his sword belt, sat down on the lip of one of the carved stones lining the pool, and began to pull off his boots.
Her eyes tightened as he pulled his ring-mail coat over his shoulders, piling it atop his boots before undoing the string on his breeches. “What are you doing?”
“Taking a bath.”
“In that?” She stared in disbelief at the steaming pool.
“Trust me.”
Completely naked now, he dipped his foot in the water, sighing in glorious satisfaction. Then, without pause, he climbed all the way in, feeling hot gravel lining the base of the pool beneath his toes. The silky hot water baked his skin as he lowered himself into a seated position, resting his back against the hot stones lining the pool. Fioni continued to stare at him in disbelief, and he winked at her before dunking his head beneath the waters. Rising again, he watched her, tasting the bitter tang of minerals on his lips. He leaned back, extending his arms out to either side to rest against the mineral-coated stones, feeling the release of tension in his aching muscles.
She stood at the edge of the pool, arms crossed before her as she stamped her boot. “There’s no time for this.”
“If we’re ahead of the others, as I suspect, we have time.”
“This seems frivolous.”
“I thought you said you’d sleep with a bear for a hot bath?”
She frowned at him, cocking her head. “Just like a man to hear what he wants to hear.”
He watched her, water dripping off his chin, his once-short hair now dripping down his neck. “Fioni, the last few weeks have been… horrific. I’ve been poisoned by a traitor, hunted by islanders, and almost molested by a degenerate thief, not to mention shipwrecked. It seems everyone I meet wants to kill me—except you, who only wants to kill me sometimes.”
“Owen…”
“In an hour, maybe less than that, Serina will awaken and come after us. There’s an excellent chance neither you nor I will ever see another dawn. Do yourself a favor and experience this bliss at least once in your life.”
She looked away at the fluttering torch then, shaking her head, sat down on a rock and began to pull off her boots, followed by her sword and armor. Owen watched her undress, enjoying the sight, feeling his breathing increase. He shifted in place as his erection sprang up on its own. She gingerly placed one foot into the water and then frowned at him. “What are you staring at?”
“Your legs,” he answered. “You have nice legs for a pirate.”
She glared at him, her face red. “Look away.”
Now she’s shy? He shrugged and glanced away, but he still watched her out of th
e corner of his eye as she climbed into the pool. Immediately, she groaned in pleasure, a beatific smile on her face. “Oh gods,” she sighed, sinking all the way to her neck. “That may be the most wonderful thing I’ve felt in weeks.”
“Told you,” he said.
She closed her eyes and dipped her head underwater. When she surfaced, he was standing only inches before her. She stared at him, suddenly trembling. So strange, he thought, for such a bold woman to be so coltish. He took her in his arms, pulling her tightly against him. She moaned, thrusting herself against his erection and burying her face in his neck. He cupped her face with his palms and stared into her green eyes. “I came back because I’m in love with you, you damned insufferable woman.”
“Well, of course you are,” she said as she pulled his head toward hers, crushing their lips together.
Breathless, he ran his hands down her body, desperate to touch her. Her tongue was in his mouth, sharing the tang of minerals. She shoved him back against the stone bench, and the two of them were so clumsily desperate for one another they almost fell. She straddled him, and he gasped, his nerves on fire. He ran his palms over her nipples, squeezing her firm breasts before pulling her thighs wide. She reached down, grasping him and guiding his erection toward her. With a single thrust, he entered her, and she threw her head back, moaning in pleasure, scoring the skin of his arms with her fingernails. Breathing heavily, they kissed, mashing their teeth together, breathing into one another’s mouths. Then they began to rock together, like long-time lovers moving in perfect symmetry. He grasped at her buttocks, pulling her in tighter against him, thrusting harder and faster as they moved toward their inevitable mounting orgasm. When it came, all too soon, it shuddered through them, their cries echoing off the cavern walls.
They could have been the only two people in the world.
Chapter 42
Danika
Irregular stone steps led down from the rim of the mountain, cutting back and forth to the stone ruins of the city below. At each landing, they passed stone markers carved with the elaborate Illthori markings Danika recognized from Sight-Bringer’s blade. With an entire city filled with relics of the dead, scholars might now be able to learn to read those markings, translate the sword’s meaning. What other arcane secrets did these ruins hold?
Although the spacing of the steps was jarring, they allowed the party to make good time on their descent down the interior rim of the mountain. As night fell, Kora led them down the last of the steps and into the ruins, long since reclaimed by the wilderness.
The crumbling stones filled the interior of the mountain. Tall, still grass and thick clumps of weeds shot through the broken stones. Long snakelike vines strangled fallen columns. Even trees had somehow burst through the stones. As with the fort on the atoll, only the shells of buildings remained, crumbling walls long devoid of ceilings. A clear, bright moon and stars bathed the ruins in a silvery glow, highlighting the remains of beautiful marble sculptures. Danika recognized the remains of what must have once been courtyards, many retaining shards of once carefully set multicolored tiles, etched in stunning geometric patterns. Even now, she marveled as the others slowly filed past—after centuries—it’s still breath taking. An eerie silence filled the city, broken only by the clap of their hobnailed boots on the crumbling stones. To Danika, standing here among the ruins felt like a dream, one lost in time.
They could see the top of the vast pyramid in the center of the dead city. After a brief discussion with Danika and the others, Kora led them toward it. They had no idea if Fioni’s uncle Denyr was there, but it was the most prominent feature in the city, and one of the few structures still standing.
As they slowly made their way past the shattered stones, cold sweat glistened over Danika’s skin, and she found herself stopping to stare behind them. Galas and his men weren’t that far behind them, she knew, but he was the least of her fears. With the sun now fully down, Serina must be awake. Blood fiends possessed superhuman speed and strength. How fast could she cross the island? While it had taken Fen Wolf’s exhausted crew an entire day to make the trek, she doubted Serina and Dilan would take even a fraction of that time. If they didn’t find Denyr and use Sight-Bringer on Serina’s heart soon, she’d catch them and slaughter all of them. Then thousands more would die when Serina once again invaded the kingdom.
“My lady,” said Gali, interrupting her thoughts. “Please. The others go ahead.”
Now realizing the others were far ahead, Danika increased her pace. “I’m coming.”
They caught up to the others as Kora led the crew onto the shattered remains of what had once been an impossibly wide stone avenue that must have cut across the city, heading directly toward its heart—the green stone pyramid. Kora wiped her mouth with the back of her hand before handing a waterskin to Danika. As Danika drank, Kora stared at the pyramid rising in the distance, so large it blocked out the stars in the clear night sky. “You’re a noblewoman. What do your kingdom scholars have to say about the Illthori? A temple, do you think?” Kora asked her.
“I don’t know. No one does. All we know of the Illthori is conjecture, master magic-users and artisans, but we know nothing of their gods—if they even had gods.”
“Could they have been servants to… others?”
Danika’s lips pressed together as she watched Kora’s face, recognizing what Kora was truly asking. The Fenyir clans believed Torin Island to have been the abandoned home of their gods, not a long-dead Illthori city. Kora and the others have bound this island in religious knots, tying into it all their beliefs—and those knots are now unraveling before them. The dissonance must be soul wrenching. “Kora, this place… the Illthori… you must see that I can’t—”
“Don’t. It’s not a question for you to answer. It’s for our holy men.” Turning away, she stared at the pyramid. “Whatever its purpose was, it remains high ground. We’ll make our stand there.”
#
A scar shattered the broad avenue where the ground had seemingly been wrenched apart, leaving a deep tear in the stone. Had they rope, they could have tried climbing down and then back up again, but the rope had sunk with Fen Wolf. With no other choice, Kora led them east, back into the ruins, in an attempt to circle around the shattered land. Kora called a short halt in the remains of what had once been a walled courtyard with a broken fountain, now covered by weeds and vines. Danika glanced uneasily at the night sky. Although she was just as tired, desperation and fear gave her strength. They needed to keep moving. Serina was coming.
Kora stood atop a broken wall across the courtyard, staring out at the pyramid, now looming before them, just on the other side of another broken compound. Danika joined her, easily pulling herself up beside the other woman with just her arms—a once-impossible feat. This voyage had changed who she was, she knew, both good and ill. Now, she was not only far stronger than she had ever been, but also much lighter. She had lost at least ten pounds, and maybe more. Each day, the ends of the strings that held her breeches up seemed to grow longer as she tightened them in the morning. In truth, she was barely recognizable as the pampered noblewoman who had set out with her brother months ago on an expedition to Greywynne Island.
“We should press on,” Danika said.
Kora bit her lip, her eyes hard. “How fast can blood fiends—”
“I don’t know, but fast—very fast.”
“I heard they can… fly.”
Danika shook her head empathically no. “My uncle Stron kept a war journal. If such a thing were true, he would have mentioned it. There were—are—many tales about blood fiends. It’s often hard to sift through what is true and what is legend. And even then, much of what we once thought was true wasn’t. When Stron and his battle-mage, Belion, confronted Serina in the Great Crypt, they did so during the day, assuming she’d be asleep and vulnerable. She was waiting for them, still awake.”
“Aye,” said Kora softly. “It was daytime still when Thunder Killer caught up to us,
bringing the other blood fiend, this… Dilan, did you name him?”
Danika closed her eyes, feeling a rush of sadness. “Dilan Reese.”
“Bringing this Dilan Reese against us.”
“I’ve wondered at that myself. It was daytime, but there was no sun, not with the fog overhead. I think, maybe, it’s the sun that hurts them, not the time of day.” She glanced up at the clear night sky. Far away, lightning struck the Godswall again, arcing up into the dark, roiling clouds that surrounded the island.
“You think that’s why Serina and Dilan didn’t—”
She dropped down suddenly, pulling Danika with her to lie atop the wall. Danika’s fear spiked wildly, sending her heart thudding into her throat. Had Galas somehow gotten around them, or—worse—Serina? But in the ruined compound ahead of them, she saw nothing but dark shadows. She listened intently, hearing nothing but her heartbeat. She stared at Kora’s face inquisitively. Kora slowly placed her lips near Danika’s ear. “I saw something moving behind the stones of that compound. I’m sure of it.”
“Galas?” Danika whispered.
“Kersta and Vadik would have gotten word to us.”
Perhaps, Danika thought with growing concern, neither of the two scouts was able to bring warning. Remaining behind to spy on Galas and his men was dangerous, even from a distance. The athletic young man and woman could easily be dead by now. She watched the anguish on Kora’s face as she likely considered that possibility as well.
“I find out who it is,” whispered Gali from just behind them, startling Danika, who hadn’t heard her climb up onto the broken wall.
Kora watched Gali intently as she considered the young woman’s offer. She bit her upper lip and shook her head. “I’ll go.”
Gali smirked, cocking her head. “I was best slip-thief in Bent Men. All know this as true.”
“It’s too dangerous,” Danika whispered.
“She is part of the crew now,” replied Kora softly, “with or without a ship.” She reached over and gripped the back of Gali’s head, bringing her closer. When she spoke, Kora’s face was granite. “Listen carefully, my little Hishtari mouse. Go around to the left of that wall, just beyond the broken archway. Do you see it?”
The Vampire Queen Saga: Books 1-3: (The Vampire Queen Saga Boxset) Page 77
