The Tide of Ages (The Mira Brand Adventures Book 2)

by Robert J. Crane

  Then the flow of water softened. Barely audible rock rumbled. I glanced to the cavity where it was pouring from to see a stone block shifting, obstructing it … and then it was closed completely. The shower of water ended in a flurry of drops, and ceased.

  A cascade of splashes filled the air from below. Shouts came with them, in a language I didn’t know, but which was filled with harsh consonants and sibilance.

  I peered down and balked.

  The arena was filled with stone houses. Built on stilts, they were arranged at irregular intervals, and irregular heights.

  From four or five, all close to the same level, hordes of marachti leapt out into the waters—and began to swim for new targets.

  As with my Catch-22 over the shortcut, I was both relieved and dismayed. Relieved that Borrick and his army were at least still here … dismayed because, whatever this new challenge, it was perfectly clear from where I was watching that they had attained a serious head start over us.

  18

  “What do we do?” Carson asked.

  “I have no idea,” I said. “Bub?”

  He shrugged, not looking particularly harried by proceedings, but at least having the grace to slap a confused expression on his face.

  Heidi exited her self-imposed silence with a frustrated huff. “Somewhere in those houses on stilts is the orb of sand.”

  “Orb of sand?” Carson repeated.

  “The second key, dimwit. Keep up.” Rolling her eyes hard, Heidi went on, “The only way to reach them is by increasing the water level. That is achieved from over there.” She pointed, and we all followed, to a stilt house on the opposite side of the arena. It was built right alongside the ledge, presumably accessible via the rear—and through the front window, too distracted by proceedings below, was Borrick and one of his marachti, positioned over a set of switches.

  “They’re still swimming,” said Carson, peering over, “so they haven’t found it yet.”

  “No,” I said, “but there’s enough of them that it won’t take long to check every stilt house at each level.”

  Sure enough, now I could see two houses being plundered as marachti dragged themselves inside from the water. Another trio of the yellow-skinned beasts were approaching a third.

  What if the orb was inside one of them?

  No. Surely not. It had to be right at the top. Or close to it. That made the most sense.

  “So how do we do this then?” I asked Heidi.

  “You can’t jump in there yourselves,” said Carson, alarmed. “They’ll be on you like that.” He snapped his fingers.

  “See those ones, with triangular roofs?” Heidi pointed. “They should have a reset switch. It’ll trigger a valve that drains the arena. We hit one of those, we strand Borrick’s thugs.”

  “And what about the water control valve?” I asked. “Borrick has it.”

  “So go get it from him.”

  I was about to say more—to ask one of a thousand other questions brewing. What about when we increase the water level again and un-strand the marachti? How would we deal with them then?

  But before I could, a marachti shout went up from below. Several others came in reply.

  A moment later, rock rumbled. The opening in the ceiling was widening again. Water began to pour from it once again.

  Down below, marachti leapt from their stilt houses, bobbing in the waves rippling from the central tumult as the buildings they had occupied moments ago were swallowed.

  Heidi stepped for the edge.

  “Oh, and by the way,” she added, “thanks for asking me about what challenges we might face—you know, instead of one of Borrick’s old hangers-on.”

  My jaw tightened, cutting me off before I could retort, “Thanks for bothering to jump in while we still had a few moments to prepare.”

  No time for that. With a perplexing last backward scowl at Carson, she twisted—and jumped.

  Carson shouted her name, but it was lost to the violent sound below. She landed, disappearing under the rippling surface. I stared—

  Then she burst up again, a small dot of dark hair from here—and began to swim for one of the triangular-roofed huts with its promised reset switch.

  I thought, as fast as I could.

  Deal with Borrick. That was the job Heidi had left me with.

  A marachti shout indicated she’d been spotted. Marachti were pointing, shouting, their words lost—and they began to swim for her, fighting back against waves that surged at them, pushing them back. Those same waves carried her forward, working for her … but they would not for long.

  She was going to get herself killed down there.

  “Right,” I said, turning to Carson and Bub. “I need you to deal with Borrick. Get the controls.”

  “Me?” Carson squeaked.

  “Here,” I said, tossing Decidian’s Spear at him. Might as well; fat lot of good it was going to do in the water. He caught the red and yellow umbrella, staring at it in barely concealed terror, like I’d given him a loaded gun and told him to go out and commit a murder with it. “That’ll help.”

  “I cannot fight Mr. Borrick,” Bub said.

  My stomach twisted. “You’re with him.”

  The orc shook his head. “It is dishonorable to battle a previous ally.”

  Well, that was stupid. What were orcs supposed to do if they got stabbed in the back then?

  The flow of water was diminishing now. I didn’t have the time to question. Heidi was running out of time.

  And I was about to go down there and defend her … without my weapon.

  Logical thought was taking a backseat. I was panicked, given no time to gather my wits, to put a plan together.

  Damn it. Why had she told us the logistics of this challenge at the last minute? Why had she leapt in before we could put together a proper plan?

  “Fine, you can’t fight,” I said quickly. “You can defend Carson though, right?”

  Bub nodded, unsheathing his sword, two jagged blades curving into a purple crescent. “I can, yes.”

  “Then there’s your job. Now go do it!”

  I nodded at Carson, trying to convey everything in it that I could: please be safe, but please take those controls, and sorry for putting you in this position, you deserve better than that—

  Then I turned. Sucked in a breath. The air had a soft, salty tang—

  Trying to summon my inner Olympian, I tilted forward—and dived. Hands together, in front of me, I sailed toward rapidly churning waters, body straightening out—God, how much would this hurt if I tipped over, landing flat on my back, my stomach? Would I just explode, or flatten like a pancake? Would I even live to—

  The impact against my hands was bone-shaking. It was like I’d been plowed into by a freight train, and I’d thrust my palms out in front of me, as if somehow that would stop it from bearing down and grinding me to dust.

  I had tipped, I realized, so I went in at an oblique angle. The pain in my shoulders was worst, and as I went from air to water I had to keep myself from gasping out and filling my lungs with brine. It radiated through me, utterly agonizing. Rendered mentally insensate, I floundered, sinking—I needed a breath before my chest exploded.

  Kicking myself back to life, I reoriented. My eyes had closed as I hit the water’s surface. I forced them open, the sting of saltwater minute compared to everything else I felt.

  Light came from above. I followed it, dragging arms that felt broken through water as thick as custard.

  Then I broke.

  Waves roiled across the surface. The flow from above had terminated now, bringing the water level a touch closer to the rim—some ten feet, I reckoned, going by the stilt houses forming new islands amongst the churn.

  Unfortunately, the cessation of flow allowed the shouts to be heard again. And marachti were certainly shouting things—most of it directed at me.

  Those that were not at me were surely about me.

  I squinted up.

  A dark-hai
red head poked out from around the control room. Borrick, staring down at the commotion.

  Great. So much for his distraction lasting. Now he knew about me and Heidi—and he would be prepared for the no doubt terrible assault Carson was charged with.

  Five or six marachti splintered off. Whilst their brethren pushed for other stilt houses, these swam in the direction of me and, kicking some distance away, heading to the newly accessible reset valve, and Heidi.

  Decidian’s Spear was with Carson, so I wasn’t buying her any time. I had no choice but to follow.

  I turned, forcing myself to front crawl after her.

  “I’m coming!” I called. “Don’t hit the switch until I’m with you!”

  “Why’d you follow me in?!” she called back.

  “To stop you getting yourself killed!”

  “I can do this myself! I told you to deal with Borrick!”

  I was about to berate her for surging in without a plan, resulting in my lack of a plan. But something caught my leg. I was jerked back. My mouth was open, ready to speak, and now it filled with water. I gagged, surfacing, spluttering—

  One of the marachti had caught up. Their muscular bodies allowed them to sail through the water like a hot knife through butter. This one had me by the ankle, and was dragging me back—

  “Get off,” I forced, words coming out warbled, and I kicked—

  The marachti was caught off-guard. My boot collided with its wrist, and it let go. But the water sapped my momentum, absorbed the energy I put into the kick. Instead of the bone-breaking smash I was hoping for, I delivered only a fraction of that … and the marachti grabbed out again, snatching my other ankle. I tried to yank it free, kick with the one I’d just freed.

  It caught me in its other hand.

  I thrashed arms. Fear flooded me in a spike, as for one moment I stared into slitted eyes—

  I started, “Hei—”

  Then it pulled me under.

  19

  I kicked. Struggled.

  Too tight. The marachti’s grip was too much, impossible to break from. And still it was pulling me deeper—

  I clawed out. Fingernails caught one of the beast’s eyes. I dragged them down—but the water itself fought me too, and between that and a twist of the marachti, it cleared me. And still it had my ankles!

  I jerked my feet. My lungs were ready to burst now. A burn was creeping in, a burn that would turn to hot, white fire that I could only extinguish by sucking in air. Down here, though, I’d only flood my lungs with water, water that would only put that fire out by putting out the rest of me.

  I needed to get loose. Now.

  I jerked, bucked. Swung out a fist again, twisting for the marachti.

  It contorted away from me, but too slow. My fingernail caught, raking down scales. Then it yanked at my ankles, and the judder through my spine thrust me in the wrong direction. Teeth clamped against the yelp so I didn’t lose any of my precious air, I fought to regain control of my body—

  Then something slammed into us from above.

  The water turned into a churning, confusing mess. Hundreds of tiny bubbles surged upward.

  The marachti released its grip on my ankles.

  I stopped myself from gasping—again.

  Momentarily, I thought perhaps Heidi had finally surged in to rescue me, bringing down Feruiduin’s Cutlass on my marachti captor. It certainly looked that way: frigid blue was streaming up in the whirl. The marachti’s eyes were wide, panicked, at the sudden cloud spreading around it.

  But then I saw it was not the cutlass. The weapon was long and straight, impaling the marachti on the end. And the body at the opposite end was much too tall.

  The burn in my chest was almost too much now. I swam up. Adrenaline kept my arms moving, for which I was thankful. If it hadn’t, the greying of my vision as my blood filled with carbon dioxide would have sent me right to the bottom of the chamber, permanently.

  I burst into air. Sucked in a huge breath without clearing my lungs. Breathed out. Then back in.

  The air was salty, and not especially fresh. And in a few moments, trouble would surely resume. But for now, I had to relish this. Breathing had never felt so damned good.

  A head broke the waters next to me.

  “Carson!”

  He spluttered. Sans glasses, and with his hair plastered flat to his head, he invited an echo of a very wet trip on the tube after one of several clashes with the Order of Apdau.

  “Are you okay?” he coughed.

  “I’m—yeah. What are you doing?”

  “I saw that snake pull you under. I jumped in to rescue you.”

  For that, I’d thank him later. Now that the burn was leaving me, the many other fish we had to fry were vying for attention. First and foremost: “But the controls! Bub said he won’t fight Borrick!”

  Carson looked anxious. “But Heidi can still reset the water, right?”

  Heidi! I spun in place, kicking myself in a circle to find her.

  The water’s rise had stilled, bringing a new level of stilt houses within reach. Within the chamber, marachti were flooding them in droves—minus the one presumably drifting to the bottom of the room below our feet right now, and …

  What happened to the others in pursuit?

  I saw before the thought had formed. Heidi had reached the nearest stilt house. An opening was carved in each side. Not perfectly aligned with the water level, it looked like twelve inches of seawater had flooded into its interior.

  Presented in this small slice, Heidi gritted teeth, swinging the cutlass against two marachti surging for her. One danced back, disappearing out of view. The other was not so fast, and the blade struck. The marachti hissed. Too-long fingers clutched its neck. Blue spurted from between its fingers as it fell, crash-landing in the water beside the stilt house.

  “This way,” I told Carson, and started swimming.

  He followed, kicking up a lot of spray behind me.

  “How do you shrink this thing?” he asked. “It’s not exactly easy to swim with a spear in your hand!”

  “Just shake it!”

  “I thought that’s what I was already doing just by paddling?”

  Apparently Carson’s attempts didn’t work, because after a moment he said, “Screw it! We’ll probably need it in a minute anyway, right?”

  “Right!”

  “I’m normally a strong swimmer, you know,” he spluttered against the foam he sent up.

  I refrained from telling him to consider this a chance to become an even stronger one. Now was not the time for movie wit. Besides, I was almost to Heidi’s stilt house.

  The marachti was swinging for her. Dancing back and forth, in and out of sight of the cutaway openings, it had struck a rhythm the others up to yet had not. It dodged every slice of the cutlass. Then, when Heidi was following the strike through, it ducked in to send a jab her way. She was stepping back, a countering waltz of her own. But blows were coming through, hard staccato raps to the head that reverberated and sent Heidi flinching backward.

  Enough of those and she would be overcome.

  From above, the sound of rock grinding echoed through the temple like an alarm’s warning. Moments later, the trickle of water began again—and underneath it was the sound of smaller splashes; marachti leaping from this level of stilt houses. Prizeless, I hoped.

  “The water’s rising again,” Carson said behind me.

  I got it. “LUO!” I shouted.

  Heidi didn’t look my way. But the marachti did, momentarily surprise crossing its reptilian face.

  Wrong move.

  Heidi swung, determined rage twisting her features.

  The blade split the marachti’s neck. It gasped—or tried to; the noise it made was wet and wrong—and then Heidi’s boot sailed into its back. It arced through the doorway, crashing face down in the rising waters near us.

  I jerked back from the spray. Skirting around, lest the thing still have some fight left in it, I called to
Heidi, “The water is rising! You need to get out.”

  She didn’t answer; just disappeared deeper into the stilt house, I assumed heading for the controls.

  “What’s she doing?” Carson asked from behind me.

  “She thinks we can reset the water level from this one.”

  If she could, she needed to move on it, and fast. The water had risen already to what must be Heidi’s stomach. Much higher—and it would go higher, some two dozen feet yet—and she’d be doing this underwater.

  I tracked a mark etched in the stone … and then it disappeared under the water.

  Chest height for Heidi now, I was pretty sure.

  “Heidi!”

  No answer.

  I gritted my teeth. Damn it, why this again?

  “Stay here,” I commanded Carson, hoping he’d listen to me this time. Then I front-crawled past the bobbing carcasses of two marachti steadily leaking blue around them, and entered the stilt house.

  I assumed the thing against the wall by Heidi was a control panel. It looked enough like it, though the slosh of water bent the light, made it warble, so it was an amorphous, shapeless thing. There might be lights on it, yellow ones, but they seemed to wink in and out of sight.

  Heidi was up to her neck. She still stood in place, back to me.

  I could plant my feet too. But I swam; in another ten or fifteen seconds, I wouldn’t be able to stand in place any longer.

  “Hey! Heidi!”

  “I’m resetting the water!” Then, after a moment’s pause: “It’s not working.”

  “We’ll try again at the next level.”

  She didn’t move, didn’t turn. All that happened was she tilted her head back, keeping her mouth above the water level.

  “Heidi!” I shouted.

  “I’m working on it!”

  Damn it! I bite back a curse, swam for her. I’d pull her out of here if she wasn’t going to willingly come.

  I grabbed her shoulder.

  She twisted loose. In ducking, her face was momentarily under the water—then she surfaced, just out of reach. The water level was so high now that her head was right back.

  And then it was under.