Forgotten Ages (The Complete Series)

by Lindsay Buroker

  “No talking in codes.” Ottotark jabbed Rias in the arm.

  “Had chance,” Rias repeated, brow furrowed as he groped for words. “To drop roof on my people. End it all. Could not.” He shook his head and sighed.

  Tikaya glanced between Ottotark and Bones, probing the shadows for Sicarius. Yes, he was there and close enough to hear. Maybe Rias wanted Sicarius to know he had spared the team. Tikaya could not imagine that or anything else winning sympathy from the stony assassin. Maybe Rias just wanted her to know without opening himself up for sneering commentary from Ottotark.

  Tikaya gripped Rias’s forearm. She could not condemn him for being unable to murder his own people, though it would have been convenient if he had arranged an accident for Sicarius when the men were catapulting over the chasm.

  In the darkness ahead, four sets of symbols glowed, marking corners of an intersection. Rias tried to walk straight through it.

  “Right,” Sicarius said, voice cold.

  “I can turn the lighting back on if we go this way,” Rias said.

  “Darkness is tactically preferable.”

  Tikaya shook her head; the kid didn’t even sound human. She and Rias had no chance if they couldn’t get the cube powered.

  “What if the door on the weapons room won’t open without the same power that operates the lighting?” Tikaya asked.

  “The lab doors are opening,” Sicarius said.

  Good point. She sighed.

  “But it’ll be easier to see what we’re doing in that weapons room if it’s lit.” Rias turned to face Sicarius. “You were in Fort Deadend. You saw what happened to those people. Do you want to risk dropping something? A single broken vial could kill everyone in the cavern.”

  “Turn right,” Sicarius said.

  “Why are you so against turning the lights on?” Tikaya asked.

  “Because you two wish it.” Sicarius jerked his chin to the right. “Lead.”

  In other words, he did not trust them. No news there.

  A long moment passed before Rias headed right. Even as a prisoner with everything going wrong, he remained outwardly calm, and Tikaya reminded herself there was still time.

  Lantern light played over piled rock ahead. This was a different tunnel than she had fled the cavern from, but it, too, had been partially blocked. They clambered over the waist-high rubble. When Agarik hopped down from the pile, Tikaya tried to catch his eye again. But he seemed to be deliberately avoiding them. In plotting to betray the marines, had Rias lost Agarik’s respect?

  Boulders and shattered stalactites cluttered the cracked and uneven cavern floor. The illusion hiding the camp was gone, revealing a mess of smashed gear and broken crates. A pair of legs stuck out from a boulder, and Tikaya tore her gaze away. Above, darkness sheathed the rockets, though the number panel glowed, faintly illuminating the door area.

  Sicarius detoured into the camp and grabbed a coil of rope and a bow. He plundered quivers, some still strapped to dead people, for arrows.

  Tikaya waited to the side, not in a hurry to be helpful. Rias too, wandered into camp, though he looked less certain about what he sought. Inspiration, probably. Ottotark and Bones followed him, pistols cocked. The expression on Ottotark’s bruised face promised he would love to use his.

  Agarik bumped Tikaya’s shoulder as he came up to stand by her. He pointed his pistol at her, though his finger did not touch the trigger. While Sicarius collected arrows and the other two men guarded Rias, Agarik chanced a whisper.

  “Ottotark and Bones are planning to kill you as soon as you open the door.”

  It wasn’t unexpected, but hearing how little time she had unsettled her nonetheless.

  “Does Rias have a plan?” Agarik murmured.

  Sicarius glanced their way. Fortunately, Agarik still had the pistol aimed at her.

  Rias bent to pick something up. “Ah, these might help.”

  Sicarius turned back to him as Rias hefted Lancecrest’s goggles.

  “We had a plan,” Tikaya whispered back to Agarik. “You people weren’t a part of it.”

  “Rias will have a backup one,” he said. “If I act against the others to help you, I can’t go back, or it’s the end of my career, probably my life.”

  She feared they needed his help, but this was their cause, not his. As far as the marines were concerned, getting those weapons was a good thing. How could she ask Agarik to risk his life when it meant betraying everyone dear to him?

  But he had already made his choice: “Just wanted to be sure your offer is still good.”

  She wished she could hug him, but all she dared was a slight nod. “Beach house,” she whispered. “As long as you want it.”

  A slight smile stretched Agarik’s lips. “Surfer with the talented tongue?”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  A rifle boomed in a nearby tunnel.

  “It’s time, Admiral.” Sicarius pinned Tikaya with his gaze as he strode to the base of the butte beneath the door. “Bring the ordering for the numbers.”

  Tikaya wanted to bring a dagger to stick in his gut, but she kept the thought to herself and the sneer from her face as she walked over. Best not to give him any warning that she would make trouble.

  Rias joined her, deliberately turning his back on Ottotark and Bones. “What’s your plan, Sicarius? There are only a few of us and a lot of weaponry up there. Getting it out will be a challenge.”

  “We don’t need that many rockets to satisfy the emperor’s needs,” Sicarius said. “If your smoke reveals a safe path, I’ll climb up with one other person. We’ll press in the correct code and lower several of the weapons to the floor. Once the captain has cleaned up the raiders, he’ll be here, and we’ll have plenty of men to transport the weapons out.”

  “Over the chasm?” Rias asked.

  “There are other ways out.”

  He sounded certain. An image came to mind: Sicarius gathering information by torturing captured raiders—Parkonis. She winced.

  “Who’s going up with you?” she asked. If Sicarius climbed to the top with Ottotark or Bones, that would leave her, Rias, and Agarik with only one hostile man to deal with.

  “Starcrest,” Sicarius said.

  Tikaya fought back a curse. She was beginning to wonder if the assassin had telepathy training, Turgonian or not. Or maybe he just wanted Rias up there because he was expendable at that point. Her hackles rose. “I’m not certain we have the puzzle right. You’re not making Rias push the numbers for you. Have you seen what happens if someone gets it wrong? Instant incineration.”

  Sicarius lifted his stuffed quiver of arrows, and she blushed. Wrong conclusion. Of course, he intended to test it from below or he would not have bothered gathering the arrows.

  Rias touched his index finger to his lips. To silence her? Or warn her not to irritate the assassin? She scowled at him. Somebody had to do something, and he was just going along with these brutes. He gazed back at her, steady and imperturbable.

  Above their heads, the door panel pulsed three times.

  “What does that mean?” Bones asked.

  “The numbers are about to change.” Tikaya had no idea if that was true, but it sounded plausible, and if the marines feared they would need another translation, they might keep her alive a little longer.

  “Give me the solution,” Sicarius said.

  Tikaya showed him the order of the numbers. He stared at it a moment, nodded, and nocked an arrow. Rias handed him the goggles. She expected Sicarius to regard them with suspicion, but he looked them over, then tried them. He lifted the bow and shot, untroubled by the bulky eyewear. The first arrow passed through one of the invisible beams and sizzled to ashes before it reached the target.

  “Shit,” Ottotark announced.

  Unflappable, Sicarius took a step to the side and loosed a second arrow. This one found the target, bumping one of the symbols a slot to the left. The arrow did no damage to the durable alien technology. It bounced away, where another
beam incinerated it.

  “No need to worry about trash collection here,” Bones muttered.

  While Sicarius continued moving the numbers around, she gauged the distance to the corridor they had exited, the corridor that eventually led to that panel Rias wanted to visit. She would not consider running with Sicarius on the ground, but if he was busy climbing, the odds improved. Ottotark and Bones were no doubt proficient with their firearms, but she judged them far more fallible than the assassin. If she just had a distraction…

  A final arrow clattered off the panel after shifting the last number into place. A chime sounded and the door slid open. It was hard to feel triumphant given the circumstances.

  Sicarius removed the goggles and returned them to Rias with a single nod.

  “Light a smoke bomb,” Sicarius said, apparently unwilling to trust the ones Rias had given him until he had seen them used.

  Rias held out the goggles, glancing around as if looking for a place to put them, then shrugged and strapped them around his head. He pushed the lenses above his eyes so they were not in the way as he lit one of the globes. He laid it on the floor at the base of the butte. Soon, plumes of grayish blue smoke wafted into the air. They diffused quickly, spreading over a greater area than the haze from a pistol firing. As Tikaya had seen before, an asymmetrical pattern of white beams grew visible in the smoke.

  “Those kill you if they touch you?” Ottotark asked.

  “Yes,” Tikaya said.

  “Glad I’m not trying to climb past them.”

  Sicarius gave him a cool stare, then laid down the bow and jogged to the bottom. Tikaya eyed the weapon. It would not take many steps to reach it.

  “Come, Admiral,” Sicarius said.

  Rias strode to Tikaya first. He gripped her hands. “Whatever happens, you’ve been the light that’s driven away the darkness in my life.” He did nothing so obvious as putting special emphasis on the word light, but she understood anyway: he wanted her to try for the panel.

  She squeezed his hands. “I love you too. Be careful.”

  Ottotark groaned. “Can we shoot them now?”

  “Wait until we have the weapons out. If the symbols change, we’ll need her again.” Sicarius handed his two globes to Bones. “Light one of these if the smoke dies out before we reach the top.”

  Rias widened his eyes slightly before releasing Tikaya’s hands and heading for the base of the butte. Tikaya tried to guess at the meaning in that look; had he done something with the other smoke bombs? The current haze tickled her nose and teared her eyes a bit, but had no significant side effects.

  Overhead, the door slid shut. It had only stayed open a couple minutes before locking again. She wondered what happened if someone was on the inside when it closed.

  Sicarius was already ten feet up the wall. Though natural, with protrusions and crevasses, it did not look like an easy ascent, even without the beams. They touched it in myriad places, and no easy routes awaited the climbers.

  After considering the rock face, Rias removed his rucksack. Tikaya tensed. No, no, if he did not take the cube with him, how would they get it up there? He met her eyes and shook his head faintly. She grimaced. He must not think there was enough space between beams to climb with the rucksack on his back. After watching Sicarius, she reluctantly agreed. As soon as the assassin reached the level of the beams, he had to start sidestepping, twisting and contorting his body. For every two feet he ascended, he ended up dropping a foot somewhere else.

  Rias started up, and worry gnawed at her before he even reached the beams. He was taller and broader—and older—than the agile assassin. Dodging those beams would prove a difficult feat. Not impossible, she hoped.

  Tikaya eased toward the bow. Agarik remained near her, and he shuffled forward too. They froze when Ottotark eyed them.

  “Agarik,” he said. “Go hold the lantern for Bones in case he needs to light another smoke thing.”

  Ottotark slapped his pistol across his palm as he strode over to stand by Tikaya. Agarik glanced at her. She nodded infinitesimally. Better to comply now and wait until Agarik’s side-switching might accomplish something.

  Light pulsed at the door. The symbols changed.

  “Is that what I think it is?” Rias asked, cheek pressed to the rock, a laser less than an inch from his eyebrow.

  “Yes.” Tikaya slipped the sphere out of her pocket.

  Ottotark grabbed her arm, pistol digging into her ribcage. “What’s that?”

  “Not a weapon,” she said, then raised her voice for Rias. “Give me a minute, and I’ll translate the new numbers. I know some of them.”

  “How often does it change?” Bones asked.

  Once a day, she guessed. “At random,” she said.

  Ottotark stepped back, startled when the display flared to life. She manipulated it to find the number symbols.

  “You want me to read them to you?” Tikaya called. “Or try to solve the problem and shoot the numbers into place from here?” She had to try, though she doubted Sicarius would be foolish enough to let her have a bow much less authorize her shooting it in his direction. He would probably laugh and say nice try.

  “Give Starcrest the numbers,” Sicarius said with no sense of humor or annoyance. “He’ll figure it out and he’ll push them.”

  Rias grunted. Pebbles clattered down the cliff face. One bounced into a beam’s path and was vaporized. The dwindling smoke made the sweat beading his forehead visible. Be careful, Tikaya urged.

  The pistol bumped her ribs.

  “Get to work,” Ottotark snapped.

  “I’ve got the numbers,” she said a moment later and read them aloud to the men.

  She hoped Rias would wait until he reached the top, or some place safe, to mull over the solution. He was about halfway up now. In a couple feet, Sicarius would reach the ledge.

  “I could use more smoke,” Rias said.

  Bones and Agarik lit one of the globes. Tikaya checked on Rias, hoping he would wait until the smoke thickened before trying to climb farther. She caught him pulling his shirt over his nose and tugging the goggles over his eyes.

  As soon as smoke curled from the globe, Bones and Agarik dropped it and stumbled back. They threw their arms over their faces, gagging.

  Tikaya sucked in a deep breath and held it. Even then, she still caught the first whiff as the smoke disseminated. More pungent than rotten eggs, it invaded her nostrils and teared her eyes. Ottotark leaned forward, grabbing his nose.

  This was her chance.

  She drew back her arm and slammed the sphere into his temple. It was not big, but it was blunt and solid. He reeled sideways and stumbled to the ground.

  “My eyes,” Bones shouted, then retched.

  Agarik clutched at his belly and vomited.

  No time to check on Rias or Sicarius. Tikaya lunged for the bow and quiver, grabbed them, and wheeled. Agarik had dropped the lantern. She snatched it as well. By then, her lungs burned, demanding air, but she sprinted for the tunnel.

  Tears blurred her vision, and she tripped over a rock. She sprawled, almost losing the bow, and her breath whooshed out. Before she could catch herself, she sucked in a mouthful of air. Distance stole some of the potency from the smoke, but it still made her gag. She staggered to her feet, forced her legs into motion, and clambered over the rubble pile and into the tunnel before retching.

  As soon as she could, she raced toward the intersection. The air was clearer here, and she sucked it in. She rounded the corner, hoping to run straight to the panel without encountering a maze of tunnels to guess at. A T-section came first. She lifted the lantern and peered both ways. There. A faint crimson glow in the distance.

  Tikaya sprinted to the panel, a column of symbols and five vertical lines that glowed solid blue.

  Shouts echoed from the cavern. She shuttered the lantern and set it down, plunging the tunnel in darkness. The men would not be distracted for long, and the light would make her an easy target. She could only
hope Sicarius would not take his irritation out on Rias, who she had left in a vulnerable position. Second doubts assailed her. She should have stayed and used the bow on the men, shot the cursed assassin, not run away. But, no, the lights were what Rias wanted, and her eyes had been too tear-wracked to aim at anything anyway.

  She examined the symbols. Not all were familiar, and there were more than she expected, but she understood the gist. Lighting, power levels, and water controls. Right spot, but what to touch?

  In the still tunnel, she felt her rapid heartbeat reverberating through her body. She started to reach for the sphere, but feared she had no time for research. Rias had guessed. She would have to as well.

  Boots pounded into the tunnels. The marines would know right where she had gone.

  Tikaya slid a finger across one of the horizontal stripes labeled with illumination. Nothing. There was no switch or knob. She slid her finger the other way. Nothing. She waved her hand before it as she had seen Rias do once to close a door.

  The stripe pulsed once, and something thunked inside the wall. Had that done it? The lighting did not come on, and she waved her hand before the other stripes. More thunks, and a faint hum from behind the wall.

  The footsteps hammered closer. She grabbed the bow, nocked an arrow, and flattened herself against the wall. The corridor offered no cover, but she could not run until she knew if her hand-waving had accomplished the goal. Besides, darkness stretched behind her, and she did not know if more tunnels lay that way or only a dead end.

  The footsteps stopped near the intersection, and lantern light bobbed on the wall. She drew the bow, but no one burst into sight.

  More footsteps, these ones softer and slower, reached her ear. She tensed. They were coming from behind her somewhere. Trap. And she had only the darkness to hide in.

  Then the lights blinked on. It happened so abruptly, she squinted, half-blinded. She almost missed the movement ahead—someone slipping around the corner and dropping to a knee.

  Tikaya loosed an arrow without waiting for her vision to clear. As soon as it flew free, she dropped to the floor. A pistol cracked.

  She rolled to the side, cursing herself for getting caught in such a bad spot. She scrabbled for another arrow.