The Conquering Dark: Crown

by Clay Griffith Susan Griffith

  Several small shapes hopped about him. Monkeys. They appeared to be normal little simians except their eyes were replaced with jutting cones, like small telescopes. No doubt minions of the Baroness. Simon handed the spyglass to Kate.

  “My God, it’s Emmett Walker,” she breathed with shock. “At least I think it is.”

  Simon glanced at her. “Your father’s old hunting companion?”

  “We’ve believed him dead all these years. At least my father said he was dead.”

  “He looks spry enough,” Nick noted.

  “Though hardly whole,” was Simon’s response. “It appears he fell afoul of the Baroness.”

  Simon took a telescope provided by Hogarth and studied the area around the distant temple. He spotted an odd pile and, tightening the focus, saw more bodies all wrapped in torn red cloth. There were at least twenty dead monks in the heap, and perhaps more. “Not shy about killing.”

  Kate leaned her elbows on a broken stone tablet and peered out. She made a variety of angry and disgusted noises as she scanned the scene. “Wait, there’s someone with him. Tied to a column on the terrace.”

  The bound man was Indian, tall and thin with a long white beard. His head slumped against his chest. He wore a simple white cloth and shivered in the cold. There were scars and welts on his body and he was covered in dried blood.

  Walker approached the prisoner, dragging something in his steel grip. The burden was another monk, still alive but barely so. Simon and the others couldn’t hear what was being said, but the intention was clear. Walker shook the monk like a rag doll, furiously growling down at the bound man. Then through the thin air, Simon heard a sharp voice ring clear.

  “The Stone! Where is it?”

  The bound man shook his head. Walker tightened his grip on the monk’s neck. The holy man thrashed. At first Simon thought he was trying to get free, but then the monk pulled a kris knife from his robe and thrust the wavy blade triumphantly into Walker’s chest. Oil and green fluid spewed forth. Walker jerked, and for a moment, Simon thought the monk’s desperate gamble had been successful. Then Walker crushed the monk’s neck in his hand. When he tossed the dead man aside, the body went one way and the head went another. The bound man slumped.

  “Damn me! Let’s go.” Simon rose to his feet, getting ready to move forward to save Walker’s prisoner.

  “Miss Anstruther!” a voice hissed from behind them. “Do not move.” On the far side of a small covered platform, an elderly Indian man crouched. His bright blue eyes shone with alarm. He was tall and thin with a long white beard. He wore nothing more than a simple thin white dhoti, which seemed incredible in the frigid air.

  Simon spun on the old man, sparking a tattoo to call forth his strength.

  The man who had beckoned to Kate raised a cautioning hand, and whispered, “You are a few feet from one of the hunter’s traps. Come toward me. You’re fortunate not to have been killed on your way across the city.”

  Kate raised her crossbow. She twisted her head to look at the old man, face clouded in confusion. “That man there tied to the column, are you his twin brother?”

  “No. I am the man you see bound there. He is Ishwar. As am I.” The old man gestured for them to follow. “Hurry! This way. One of the hunter’s spies may see us.”

  Kate looked to Hogarth for confirmation. The manservant studied the elderly man, and said cautiously, “It has been many years, but he certainly resembles the Shri Ishwar I remember.”

  She hissed to the stranger, “What are you playing at?”

  The old man came out from behind his protection and scurried toward them. His voice was hushed. “I’m afraid the hunter captured me yesterday, just after I contacted you. He knows me; knows I am connected to Sir Roland. So he believes I know where the Stone is hidden. He has been torturing me quite mercilessly. But it is becoming difficult to be elsewhere. If you don’t steal the Stone away very soon, knowing myself quite well, I may falter and tell him where it is.”

  Nick snarled, “What the hell is that crazy old fakir talking about? This lunatic is the Ishwar we came to find?”

  The elderly man glowered at Nick, then turned back to Kate. “If you care to observe, Miss Anstruther, I will explain.” He quivered and grew very still. His wrinkled skin darkened like soil. The contours of muscles and joints grew rough and indistinct. The man transformed into a lifeless, vaguely man-shaped pile of mud.

  “Holy Mother,” Kate exclaimed.

  “Is it a golem?” Simon stared at the muck that used to be Ishwar without touching it.

  “No, I think it’s vivimancy,” Nick said, impressed. “Looks like he’s mastered vitalism. I was wrong. He’s no crazy old fakir.”

  Kate tore her stunned gaze from the glistening mound of mud and raised the spyglass. The figure tied to the distant stone column had his head slumped against his chest. As Kate watched, he lifted his face. He nodded toward her in desperation. It was clearly Ishwar. She turned back to watch the mud on the ground re-form into the shape of the elderly magician.

  Ishwar blinked his shining eyes at Kate as if waking from a pleasant nap. “There isn’t much time. You must seize the Stone and take it away.”

  “Where is it?” Kate asked.

  “I will take you.” Ishwar motioned them to follow and walked toward a small temple behind him.

  Kate exchanged a glance with Simon. They didn’t hesitate and strode after Ishwar. Nick grumbled, obviously ill at ease with the whole situation.

  As Ishwar led them inside, Simon looked at the stonework around them. “Is it in here?”

  “No.” Ishwar took the arm of a carved god on the wall and pulled it. A portion of the floor pivoted down to reveal a dark tunnel into the ground. “This route will save us from being unfortunately skewered.”

  “Wait a damn second.” Nick fixed Simon with a look of incredulity. “Are you just going to trust this man?”

  Simon started into the tunnel. “It’s either him or the metal man and his death traps outside.”

  Kate followed, then Hogarth. Ishwar waited until finally Nick growled and also dropped into the dark tunnel. Ishwar came after and worked some counterweight to return the cover stone to its place.

  In the darkness ahead, Simon paused to make a show of removing a stone from his boot. In fact, he quickly drew the gold key from his coat pocket, keeping it hidden from Ishwar with crafty sleight of hand, and dropped it into his right boot.

  Ishwar smiled approvingly at the fire that burst from Nick’s hand to light the darkness. “Good trick. The light is unnecessary. Go forward. There is only forward now.”

  “I’ll keep it if you don’t mind.” Nick let Ishwar pass in front of him so he was bringing up the rear and could keep an eye on the wizened man.

  Simon stamped his boot back on. “Kate, what more can you tell us about this Walker chap?”

  “He traveled with my father occasionally, as I mentioned. Died in India on my father’s last expedition there. Or so I thought. He had been an infrequent hunting companion of my father. When I was a little girl, he would come out to Hartley Hall at times for shooting parties, like many people did.”

  “And what did you think of him?”

  “He was a brute. He treated animals harshly. I saw him beat horses. Once Aethelstan, Aethelred’s mother, bit him and Walker went to shoot her.”

  “Did he?”

  “No. I stopped him long enough for father to come and smooth things over.” Kate grinned with righteous anger. “He deserved to be bitten, and worse.”

  Ishwar said, “You brought your father’s key, yes?” When no one replied, the old man smiled. “Do you not trust me, Miss Anstruther?”

  Kate looked back, “Shri Ishwar, do you know where my father is?”

  “No, Miss Anstruther. I haven’t heard from him in the years since he hid the Stone here. You have not either?”

  “No.” Kate shook her head. “Why not simply destroy the Stone?”

  “No!” Ishwar leaned for
ward with a look of distress. “No, Miss Anstruther. Your father knew the karma from such an atrocity. The Stone is a great relic and more important than our lives.”

  “More important than your life maybe,” Nick muttered.

  Ishwar didn’t even glance at the sour man. “Hide it far away. If Gaios finds it again, then hide it again. As many times as necessary.”

  Kate shook her head in confusion. “Why would he hide it here so close to Baroness Conrad’s home? He knew she was in league with Gaios.”

  “He believed he had killed the Baroness years ago in revenge for her slaughter of his expedition. He was wrong.”

  “My father battled with the Baroness?”

  “Yes, Miss Anstruther. He came here many years ago trying to find more information about Gaios’s plans. She trapped his expedition and killed most of them.”

  Kate exhaled heavily. “Damn it, he never told me.”

  “Your father believed she was dead. And he believed the intrinsic power of this temple would help hide the Stone from the potential gaze of an earth elemental, even one as powerful as Gaios. He was wrong again. But even the great Gaios must have his limits. He obviously cannot tell the hunter the exact location of the Stone, or it would be on its way to England now. He only knows that it is somewhere here in this vast temple city. That is why Walker tortured the poor monks who reside here, but they did not know.”

  “But you know?”

  “I do. I helped your father put it here three years ago. And I have watched it ever since.”

  Simon noticed Kate pulling her coat tighter. He knew her chills were not completely from the cold. The memories of her father were near and she was unnerved by them. “How did you contact us in England, Shri Ishwar? Do you have a key of your own?”

  “I have this.” Ishwar hopped, showing a small silver chain around his bare ankle. Dangling from the chain was a metal trinket shaped like the compass or sunrise rune from the key. “Your father made these speaking charms and gave me one. It is drained of aether now and useless. Fortunately, I reached you, Miss Anstruther, and you came. And you will keep the Stone safe with your life, as I have done.”

  As they continued, the tunnel grew narrow so they had to drop to their hands and knees, and crawl, pushing their packs ahead of them. The oppressive sense of surrounding earth began to trouble Simon, but he refused to show it. The dirt of the tunnel scraped both shoulders and the top of his head. He could not turn or look back. He only knew that Kate was there by her breath, and he could hear the sounds of the others crawling behind. The pale light of the tunnel grew even smaller ahead so he had to drop to his chest and wriggle through an opening barely wide enough for a human shape.

  The other side opened into a broader chamber that allowed him to stand. He stooped to pull Kate out and she took a deep breath of relief. Hogarth struggled from the tunnel as if it were giving birth to an elephant.

  Ishwar sidled to the front of the group. He fumbled his fingers along the wall and a small rectangular section swung open. One by one, they followed him onto a tiled floor. They found themselves next to a statue of a cross-legged Shiva holding a trident in one hand.

  “We are in the northwest corner of the great temple where Walker has me prisoner,” announced Ishwar.

  “That can’t be wise.” Simon regarded the old man.

  “Unfortunately, the Stone rests in this very temple. Did I neglect to say this to you?”

  Simon laughed.

  Kate rolled her eyes in exasperation. “You find that funny?”

  He shook his head with great solemnity. “Not funny in the traditional sense, no.”

  Ishwar pointed. “The Stone is in that direction. I am being held at the east terrace.”

  Ishwar silently led the way forward across the vast chamber. Diffused moonlight filtering through the exterior lattice walls created long silvery shadows. They passed cautiously through the voluptuous interior thick with statues. Many sculptures wore frightening faces and did not appear to be any of the Hindu deities Simon knew.

  At the far side of the crowded deity room, they came to an open archway. Simon and Ishwar peered through the arch, looking into a grand entry hall. Fifty feet away was a row of widely spaced columns separating the hall from the main veranda with its bonfire crackling. The true Ishwar was tied to one of those pillars. He sat on the frigid stone floor, head down, apparently unconscious. There was no sign of Walker at the moment.

  Kneeling beside Simon, Ishwar stared through the gap. The elderly man put a hesitant hand up as if gesturing to his own distant form. “I may not live much longer.”

  Simon said, “Aren’t you a vivimancer of some sort? You have the power of life. Why can’t you heal yourself?”

  “I have, which is why I am still alive at all. I cannot now spare the power to heal and keep myself”—he touched his chest—“up and about. I can only imbue life to one form at a time.”

  “The sooner we get the Stone, the sooner we can rescue you,” Nick hissed. “So where is it?”

  Ishwar started from the edge of the archway and moved along the wall of the deity room, counting stones across, then up. He touched a mottled grey stone, which was the proper size of the relic they sought.

  Simon reached up. It felt like any other cold rock. “You’re sure?”

  “This is the location. From the arch, nine stones across and six up. Nine for Katherine. Six for Imogen.”

  Kate put a hand over her mouth to stifle an uncharacteristic sob. Her eyes suddenly glistened.

  Simon understood her emotional reaction to Sir Roland using his daughter’s names as a guide to hide this relic from Gaios. It was like overhearing an unexpected word of praise from her father. “Odd that something this powerful seems so normal.”

  “This one is normal. That isn’t the Stone of Scone.”

  “What?”

  Ishwar looked embarrassed. “Your Stone is at this spot, but it is on the other side of this wall.”

  “In the entry hall? In full view of the enemy.” Simon leaned heavily against the wall with an exhale of defeat. He quickly recovered; it was untoward for him to show any weakness or frustration in front of the others. “How thick is this wall? Can we get to the Stone from this side?”

  “It is very thick. Many layers of stone. Even if you had the power to tear through it, the hunter would hear you first, or perhaps the wall would collapse. Your Stone is facing out on the far side. You have but to loosen it and go.”

  “Oh, is that all?” Simon pinched the bridge of his nose and smiled. “Fine. There’s no point in waiting. Walker isn’t around so let’s get you and the Stone, and be off.”

  Chapter 19

  They went through the archway from the deity room into the entry hall. Frigid wind blew through the row of columns open to the outside. Simon counted off along the interior wall until he put his hand on the proper stone. It too felt like a normal rock and it looked exactly like every stone on the wall. But Ishwar nodded with a slight smile. Simon ran his fingers over the rough surface of the Stone of Scone, trapped here so far from home in the wall of a temple in the foothills of the Himalayas.

  Kate moved to the front of the entry hall and knelt by the slumped form of the real Ishwar. Nick crouched behind a neighboring column, staring out onto the snowy terrace and city beyond. He swore.

  “Those damned monkeys are everywhere out there. Can you get the Stone back through the tunnel?”

  Simon shook his head. “I don’t think so. There were spots where it was far too narrow. We barely squeezed through.”

  “If we try to stroll out of here,” Nick said, “Walker will be on us. And he seems unpleasant. Plus, this city is riddled with death traps.”

  Simon pressed his foot against the floor. “I have an idea, but don’t know exactly how it will work. I believe I can create a new portal with the key. Here. And we can simply drop the Stone back to London.”

  Kate looked up. “You can do that?”

  “I’m not sure, but
our discovery of the creation phrase put me on the right path.”

  She nodded in agreement. “Try it. What’s the worst that can happen?”

  Simon pursed his lips sourly at her. “You should never tempt fate, my dear.” He pulled his sword and sparked it to life, holding it out to Kate. She sheathed her own sword and took his, mindful not to touch the blade. Simon looked at the wall carefully. He pressed his right foot onto the floor. “Daros Marthsyl.”

  “What are you saying? Door in ancient Celtic?”

  “Yes. I can feel something starting to happen. I don’t know if it will work, or how long it will take.”

  “Where is the key?” Kate asked.

  “In my boot. Monkey, darling.” Then Simon stiffened and his mouth clamped shut.

  “Monkey darling what?” Kate caught a glimpse of one of the little hairy figures hanging from the beams overhead. “Jesus!”

  A fireball streaked at the dangling beast, but it squealed and swung up out of sight. Nick slapped his hand against the column. “Damn it! We’re in for it now.”

  “Simon,” Kate began, but as she turned back to him, she saw he was frozen with his eyes closed. He was in a deep trance. Tendrils of aether were rising from the ground around his foot. The power of the key had locked him in place. She spun back, glowing sword in hand. “Everyone get ready. We have to hold this ground.”

  Seconds later a shout came from outside, “Who is up there? There are no more monks so you must be new arrivals.” Walker came striding up the steps onto the veranda. He was framed by the thickening snow blowing in the wind. He held his massive bow with a javelin-sized arrow already notched, but it was pointing at the ground. A monkey crouched on Walker’s steel arm, eating fruit, no doubt a reward for its spying prowess. The hunter stared between the columns at the group inside the entry hall. He grinned with delight. “Katie Anstruther! Is that you? The Baroness said you were looking for the Stone too.”