The Verdant Passage
Page 25
Agis shook his head. “I don’t think so. There’s more to this test than crossing a bridge cautiously,” he said. “Kalak is surrounded by guards every bit as powerful as you. I wouldn’t be surprised if he or some of his people are masters of both the Way and magic. To defeat him, we’re going to have to work together.”
“Four people can’t throw a spear,” Rikus countered.
“True,” Sadira said. “But the spear won’t strike unless we coordinate our efforts to overcome Kalak’s defenses. I think Agis is right—Nok is testing our ability to work together.”
The mul cast a wary eye at the vine bridge, then nodded and looked down at the halfling chief. “We need our weapons and some rope,” he said, gesturing at the warrors who had brought their property along.
“Rope, you can have,” Nok said. “You won’t need weapons.”
Rikus looked doubtful, but accepted the rope without protest. “I’ll lead the way,” he said, tying one end of the line around his waist and passing the other to Sadira. “Sadira and Agis will follow, and Neeva will bring up the rear.”
“Rikus, I’m hardly vulnerable, and it might be best to have my skills in front,” Agis said, stepping forward. “I’ll lead.”
Sadira caught the noble’s arm, afraid that the discussion would deteriorate into an argument. “Rikus is right. If you’re in the middle, you can protect us all. If you’re in front, it’ll be impossible for you to protect us against an attack from the rear.”
Reluctant, Agis nodded, then stepped back into line. Once the four companions had all tied themselves into place, Rikus led the way onto the bridge. Sadira followed next, with Agis and Neeva behind her. They moved slowly and carefully, holding onto the handcords and keeping a careful eye on the braided vines beneath their feet. Though the bridge swayed and rocked with each step, it showed no sign of coming apart under their weight.
They were about a third of the way across when Rikus suddenly stopped. He stared at the walkway, gripping the handcords so tightly that his knuckles were white.
“What’s wrong?”
No sooner had Agis asked the question than they all saw why Rikus had halted. The vines were writhing and twisting at his feet, regrowing in a different pattern before their eyes. The bridge wasn’t coming apart; it was reforming itself into two separate pathways, each running in a slightly different direction.
Without releasing the handcords, Rikus took a tentative step. His foot sank through the writhing mass of vines. Only his secure grip saved him from plummeting into the river that snaked like a line far below.
“Don’t move!” Agis cried “The bridge isn’t changing. It’s a psionic illusion!”
“Where is it coming from?” Sadira asked, looking over her shoulder.
She did not need to finish the question, for the noble was already facing Nok. The two men had locked gazes and were staring at each other like gladiators in a death match. Agis gripped the handcord with tightly closed fists, but his legs trembled and lines of persperation ran down his neck. On the other side of the noble, Neeva stared at her feet in horror.
Sadira looked down. There were three separate bridges beneath her feet. “Don’t turn around, Rikus. Neeva, when I say to, cover Agis’s eyes and close your own.”
Plucking a handful of flower buds off the vines forming the wall, the sorceress pointed a hand toward the forest behind Nok to summon the energy for a spell. She had hardly opened her palm before she felt the incredible power from the massive trees rush into her body. For the first time in her life, she found it necessary to close her fist and cut off the flow of energy before it overwhelmed her.
Pushing aside her shock, she cried, “Now, Neeva!”
The gladiator cover Agis’s face with a hand and shut her own eyes. Sadira tossed the buds at Nok and spoke the incantation that would shape her magic.
The buds disappeared in midair, and a spray of brilliant hues blossomed before the halfling’s eyes. It was the same spell she had used to save Rikus from the gaj, but with the forest’s energy the effects were more spectacular. The colors were deep and dazzling, competing with each other for splendor, mesmerizing in their radiance. Nok’s eyes went glassy. Though Sadira had not directed the attack at the halflings behind the chief, even they seemed shocked.
The spell faded almost immediately, but Nok and the other halflings remained stunned. It would take them at least a few moments to recover from its effects.
As his mind was released from combat, Agis’s knees buckled. Neeva opened her eyes and caught him. “Are you well?” she asked.
Agis gripped the handcord and nodded. “Thanks to Sadira. I’ve never faced such a powerful mind!”
“Kalak’s will be stronger,” Neeva answered.
At the front of the line, Rikus called, “I see one bridge again! Let’s go!”
They continued forward faster than before, but also with more apprehension. With each step, Sadira expected Nok to recover. When they passed the midway point of the bridge without another attack, she hazarded a glance over her shoulder. The halfling chief stood on the far side. His eyes were clear, and he was studying the companions with an air of detached interest.
Rikus yelled, “Get ready! We’ve got trouble!”
Sadira faced forward. The group’s weight had depressed the bridge enough to create a steep slope between the center and the ends. The granite ball on the far side of the bridge had left its resting place. It was rolling down the V-shaped channel, picking up speed as it traveled. Rikus braced himself to catch it.
“Rikus, down!” cried Agis.
The mul cast an angry glance over his shoulder. “Are you mad?”
“Do it!” Sadira snapped.
Rikus looked back at the boulder. It was shooting down the trough with terrifying speed. Taking a hard gulp, he dropped to his belly and wrapped his arms around the walkway. Sadira did the same, craning her neck to watch Agis.
The noble closed his eyes, then held out his arm as if he intended to let the boulder roll up it. He cupped his palm, then tipped it toward the side of the bridge.
The sorceress looked forward again. The ball was almost upon them. Rikus flinched and dropped his face into the vines, yelling, “Never trust a noble!”
The ball lifted into the air, passing just above the mul’s bald pate. By the time the boulder reached Sadira, it was even higher in the air. It arched up before drifting out over the handcord, then plummeted into the gorge below.
For a moment, Sadira lay motionless, trying to slow her pounding heart.
“What was that about trusting nobles, Rikus?” asked Agis. Though his voice was weak with fatigue, there was a wry grin on his face.
Rikus looked over his shoulder. “You sure took your time to—” He broke off in midsentence. Sadira heard the throb of huge wings beating the air, then the mul called, “Duck!”
Two gigantic dragonflies zipped past overhead, their hooked feet slashing through the air. The sorceress rose to her knees and peered over the handcord. The two insects had already flown past. Nevertheless, she could see that a halfling sat behind each beast’s glittering compound eyes. The riders pulled the mounts into a steep, banked turn.
“Crawl, Rikus!” yelled Agis.
The mul obediently moved forward on hands and knees. The others followed close behind, keeping their heads below the handcords. The two insects streaked past again, their gossamer wings shimmering with the ruby light of dusk.
Sadira made the whole line pause while she peered through the side of the bridge. The halflings were again banking their mounts. Unfortunately, this time the riders were holding their palms toward the forest, collecting the energy to cast a spell.
“Magic!” she hissed. They crawled forward as quickly as possible.
“I hear them behind me,” Neeva shouted, looking fearfully over her shoulder. Yet the dragonflies and their riders were nowhere in sight. An instant later, Sadira heard the throb of wings at the back of their line.
“Oh no,”
the sorceress cried. “They’re invisible!”
A dragonfly appeared above Neeva, the spell that had hidden it from sight negated by the suddenness of its attack. The halfling on the creature’s back shouted a series of strident commands. The beast dropped onto the woman and locked its six legs around her body.
“Help me!” Neeva shouted, struggling to turn so that Agis might have a clear attack on the giant insect or its rider.
The noble formed a short loop from the slack in the rope connecting him to Neeva. Stepping past the dragonfly’s long tail, he flipped the noose over the rider’s head and jerked the halfling off his mount. The warrior landed screaming on the handcord. Agis shoved him over the side.
The dragonfly flapped its four wings, knocking the noble aside. It rose into the air with Neeva still clutched in its claws. She struggled in vain to pull herself free.
Rikus screamed, “Help her!”
Agis grabbed the female gladiator’s legs and locked his own feet around the bridge’s handcord.
Sadira fished a piece of silk from her pocket. The sorceress pointed her free hand toward the trees. Flicking the silk at the dragonfly, she recited her incantation. The strand disappeared, and a gooey white web appeared on the insect’s wings. The dragonfly tried to force its wings to beat through the stringy webbing, but it was no use. The creature and Neeva dropped into the gap.
Grabbing the handcord, Agis braced himself. Neeva quickly fell the length of the rope connecting her to the noble, and the suddenness of the rope snapping taut made the noble groan.
Sadira dropped to the walkway and wrapped her arms and legs around the vines. Through the thick tangle beneath her face, she could not see what was happening between Neeva and the giant insect.
Rikus stepped over her, reaching for the noble. It was only then that the second dragonfly appeared above Agis’s head. Its rider leaned over to cast a spell. Sadira screamed a warning, but she was too late. Agis’s eyes fluttered, his head tipped back, and he fell into a magical slumber.
His hold on the bridge gone, the noble slipped over the edge and plummeted after Neeva. When he’d fallen the length of the rope connecting him to Sadira, the noose bit deeply into her flesh. A jolt of sharp pain shot through her abdomen. Though the impact threatened to rip her from the bridge too, the sorceress clutched the walkway vines and prayed she would have the strength to hang on.
Rikus grabbed the dragonfly hovering overhead by the wing. There was a loud crackle and a sound like shredding cloth. The mul pulled the creature’s wing from its body and tossed the mangled limb from the bridge.
As the insect screeched in pain, the rider reached for his dagger. Rikus knocked the halfling senseless, shattering his nose with a casual backfist. The dragonfly raked its claws across the gladiator’s chest, but the mul only gritted his teeth and ripped another wing off the creature.
Rikus dropped both the rider and mount over the side of the bridge, then grabbed the rope and pulled Agis up. The mul passed the noble, still under the thrall of the halfling’s sleep spell, to Sadira. She cradled Agis’s head in her lap and shouted at him. When that did not work, she slapped him across the cheeks, hard. He remained asleep.
“Typical noble,” Rikus grumbled.
Neeva came next, covered head-to-toe with black goo. In her hand, she clutched a dragonfly’s head. There was no sign of the rest of its body.
“Are you hurt?” Sadira asked.
The gladiator looked up and wiped the insect’s blood from her eyes. “No. Just a few scratches,” she answered.
Rikus pulled Neeva to her feet, then took Agis from Sadira. “Good. You carry the noble,” he said, placing the sleeping man in her arms.
The mul stepped past Sadira, then cautiously led the way forward. Though they were constantly watching for another of Nok’s tests, they reached the end of the bridge without further incident. Rikus immediately went to the tree and reached for the spear.
“Wait,” Neeva called, dumping Agis’s body on the ground. “Nok’s coming.”
Sadira and the mul looked back across the gorge. The halfling chief strode across the swaying bridge as if walking down a trail, not even bothering to hold the handcords. Behind him, moving somewhat more cautiously, came two dozen halfling warriors. None of them looked happy.
“We’ve passed enough tests,” Rikus said.
The mul gave the spear a mighty tug. When it slipped out of the tree easily, he stumbled and nearly fell. He stood with the weapon in hand, regarding its balance and shape in awe. At last, he looked up and said, “I feel its power. My hands are tingling!”
Nok stepped off the bridge, cradling Ktandeo’s cane in his arms. He regarded the mul with a look of disdain, as if Rikus had offended him. The gladiator returned the scornful expression.
At last, Nok said, “The Heartwood Spear will penetrate any armor. It will defend you from the energies of the body and those of the world—from the Way of the Unseen and from magic. Now that you have this wondrous weapon, what will you do with it?”
“Kill Kalak,” Neeva said, taking the spear from Rikus’s hands.
The halflings behind Nok gripped their daggers meaningfully. Sensing that she and her companions had not yet passed Nok’s most important test, Sadira took the Heartwood Spear from Neeva’s hands.
“We swore to offer our bodies and spirits to the forest,” she said, facing the halfling chieftain. “Is is not ours to decide what should be done to defend it.” She held the spear out to Nok, saying, “Please accept this offering.”
The halfling smiled and touched his hand to the weapon. “Now you are worthy of the Heartwood Spear,” he said. “It is yours to use in the service of my forest.”
Sadira passed the spear to Rikus, then fixed her eyes on the cane still cradled in Nok’s arm. “If we are worthy of the spear, then perhaps we are also worthy of Ktandeo’s cane.”
Rikus quickly added, “You were the one who said it would take more than strength to throw the spear.”
“If it is a weapon we can use to defeat Kalak and defend the forest, please give it to us,” Neeva said. “We have passed your test, but we’ll still need every advantage you can provide to defeat the sorcerer-king.”
Nok regarded the two gladiators pensively. Finally, he held the cane out to Sadira. “I entrust these to your keeping so that you may protect the forest as you have pledged,” he said. “Kill Kalak, and then you must return the weapons to me.”
Sadira accepted the cane. “We will not fail. I promise.”
SIXTEEN
ENDGAME
RIKUS AND HIS THREE COMPANIONS STOOD IN AN alley across from Tyr’s great stadium, listening to the roar of the crowd thunder over the high walls. Two templars stood in each gateway of the structure, their pole-axes gripped firmly in hand and their short swords dangling at their hips. Outside the gates, hundreds of men and women—overcome by drink, heat, or excitement—sat in the streets. These refugees waved fans before their faces or simply held their heads in their hands. They would have fared better returning to their homes, but the mul suspected that they hoped to recover in time for the day’s grand finale. Rikus thought they were fools—not the sort of people for whom he wanted to die.
The mul faced his weary companions. After a grueling four-day hike, they had arrived in Tyr last night, only to discover that the ziggurat had been completed and the games were scheduled to begin in the morning.
“This will never work,” Rikus said, eyeing the guards at the stadium.
“Do you have a better idea?” Sadira asked.
The half-elf was dressed like a noblewoman, with a silver circlet in her amber hair and a silken cape over her shoulders. On her fingers she wore rings of silver, gold, and copper, and the straps of her sandals were studded with tourmaline. According to their plan, she would find a vantage point in the noble tiers from which she could see both Rikus and the King’s Balcony. Just before the mul threw the Heartwood Spear, she would use Ktandeo’s cane to destroy the magical shieldin
g that they assumed would be protecting Kalak.
“I haven’t thought of anything better—yet,” Rikus admitted reluctantly.
“We don’t have much time, Rikus,” said Agis, looking nervous and uncomfortable in a templar’s cassock. “They could close the stadium any minute.”
“Let them! Tithian will never join us.” Rikus tipped his spear toward the stadium. “If we go through those gates, we’ll all be killed before we can assassinate anyone.”
“We don’t need Tithian to join us,” Agis said, “We just need him to leave us alone. He’s already promised that much. Through Sadira’s efforts, he knows where the amulets were hidden. So far, he’s kept his word.”
Rikus had to admit this much was true. Last night, Agis and Sadira had asked around to see if people still expected the mul and his partner to fight. To their surprise, everyone assumed Rikus and Neeva would be part of the grand finale. Apparently Tithian had honored his promise and kept the escape of his two prize gladiators secret.
Nevertheless, the mul was far from enthused about the crucial role the high templar played in their plans. “Agis, you’re asking Tithian to let you attack Kalak from the High Templars’ Gallery. If that isn’t helping, I don’t know what is.”
The noble lifted a hand and nodded. “You’re right, that is helping. It doesn’t matter, though. Tithian will cooperate. Leave him to me.”
Rikus shook his head stubbornly. “He can’t be trusted, no matter how close you were as boys. There must be another way.”
This part of the plan was what made the mul nervous. When Rikus threw the spear, Agis would simultaneously pound Kalak with a psionic barrage. Unfortunately, to make his attack, the noble needed to see the king’s face. The only place he could do that from was the High Templars’ Gallery. With that in mind, Agis had donned a templar’s cassock. He intended to convince Tithian to let him pose as a minor functionary and watch the contest from the gallery.
Neeva had the same fears as Rikus. “Agis, if you’re wrong about Tithian, the instant Rikus and I step into the arena, he’ll have us killed—and Kalak will survive. I’d feel better if I knew why you’re so confident the High Templar of the Games will cooperate.”