Braonán had told me from that point I needed to count my steps to where I’d find the push rock that would open a hidden passage into the exterior wall. I paced the advised distance and felt along the wall at the height he instructed.
After several moments of searching, my frustration grew. “Eshshah, I can’t find it.”
Should I go back and start counting again?
I pressed my hand to my forehead. Think, Amáne, think. Had I miscounted or misheard the number?
I’d already checked a second time a few paces in either direction without encountering the rock.
A flash of awareness hit me. The paces Braonán gave me were more likely the paces of a man, not one of my stature. It would stand to reason, I hadn’t reached the location yet. With renewed hope, I continued along the wall. My hands sought the stone.
“It’s here, Eshshah,” I nearly shouted as my tension released.
I prayed the mechanism still worked as I pressed on the rock. And especially, that it would not make a sound that would draw attention. A slight rumble vibrated to my left. Stone against stone. Creaking and scraping. I cringed and held my breath, hoping no one could hear it, or feel it. A small crack opened and then widened to allow enough of an opening for me to slip inside. I found and pressed the push rock on that side. The stone door closed and I was left in darkness.
I waited for my eyes to adjust, but the shadows were deep. I could barely make out the silhouettes of ropes in front of me.
Why would there be ropes hanging inside the walls?
My eyes played tricks on me, making me think the ropes had stirred. There was no movement of air inside the stifling tunnel. The floor also seemed to shift beneath my feet. I drew my sword and swiped at the shapes. A muffled thud smacked the ground in front of me.
Something hit my arm and a pain shot through me. Another piercing strike, and another, and a last hit to my face.
My hands shaking from fear and pain, I reached for an arrow from my quiver. I fumbled with the leather receptacle at my back and managed to extract one.
“Eshshah,” I whispered and a flame burst from the end of the shaft. The arrow became a torch. I held the light high in front of me.
“Snakes!” I shrieked.
Not just snakes, they were deadly vipers. I’d been struck several times. The reality of my situation hit me hard.
“Eshshah, I’ve failed. I’m sure to die inside these walls. I’m sorry.”
The pain of the venom burned in my veins. I had difficulty breathing. My trauma brought to mind a similar experience. I’d endured a venomous bite before. Perhaps more than once. But like the other memories that had flashed through my mind, this one evaporated immediately.
I whispered Eshshah’s name again to increase the size of the flame on the arrow. The tunnel brightened. The flame reflecting off the glistening scales of the snakes showed them everywhere —above and below me. One dropped on my shoulder, it’s cold slick tail curled around my neck. I stifled a scream as I grabbed it and flung it against the wall.
I brandished my torch high and low, jabbing it at the serpents in my way. A path cleared as they slithered away from the light. My pain was intense, but so far I’d kept to my feet. I persevered, determined to at least set the second blast stick. Hopefully, one of the dragon riders would be able to ignite them. I could at least do that much to help the king.
A familiar surge of power flowed through me. “Eshshah, I know that’s you. If I could complete my task, I would be eternally grateful.”
I fought my way through the sea of snakes, scattering them before me. On the edge of hysteria, I lost track of my location inside the wall. But a turn in the passage told me I’d arrived at the next site. Finding the push rock, I pressed it. The door responded to my request. It opened slowly. Cautiously, I stuck my head out once the opening became large enough. Scanning the grounds, I saw my way was clear. Before the door opened fully, I slipped through and quickly found and pressed the lever to close it behind me.
Shivering with relief, I inhaled fresh air. I’d made it out of that tunnel. My outlook improved, but the snakebites may yet be my end. I had to work quickly before the venom overcame me.
Wary of my surroundings, I scanned the base of the wall and found the drain spout where I would place the second blast stick.
Squatting in front of yet another grotesque carved figure that projected from the wall, I forced the blast stick into its mouth, then extended the fuse to make it an accessible target for the igniting shot.
Although my pain radiated from the bites I’d sustained, the fact I could still function and that my body still responded to all that I asked of it, made no sense.
How could it be that the venom hadn’t overcome me? Is Eshshah keeping me alive until I finish my mission?
A vision flickered at the outer edge of my consciousness —a hazy recollection of venom in my veins rose again, but still it remained at the edge.
My back to the wall, I surveyed my position to mark the course I’d take back to the fountain. It lay in ruins, but probably had been a magnificent structure when the castle was young. Now, its sections lay toppled and spread broken in the yard.
To my left, I had a clear view to the harpoon cannon under which I’d set the first blast stick. Turning to my right I could see the third cannon, that regrettably would not get destroyed, since my third stick had been confiscated.
I blinked as my attention drew more sharply in that direction. A commotion that took place atop the wall walk pulled my focus. A torch backlighted the scene. Several guards had gathered around one of their mates. He held up something up in his hand.
“Eshshah, it’s my third blast stick.”
Their animated movements conveyed a weighty discussion occurring. Raised voices, although indecipherable, carried an angry tone on the breeze. The man holding the stick jerked it up as another grabbed at it.
This is my chance.
Instantly, I pulled an arrow from my quiver and nocked it. This would be an impossible shot, but I needed to try. In one fluid motion I raised my bow and drew back slowly until my fingers anchored at the corner of my mouth. I inhaled and aimed. Imagining the arrow making its way to the fuse, I let my breath out slowly, ready to release the string.
Pushing and shoving ensued up on the walk. A guard blocked my target. My opportunity passed. I eased the string, releasing the tension, and lowered my bow. As I watched for another opportunity, someone made another grab for the stick and the holder again jerked it out of reach. This time he kept it held above him. My eyes went wide. He’d raised it too close to the torch. I let out a small gasp as I saw sparks jump over his head. As one, their movement stopped. They all focused on the blast stick. An unmistakable star-shaped fire worked its way down the fuse.
I didn’t wait to see them jump to action, but took off running toward safety. The blast went off, shaking the ground below me. I made it to cover and slid, feet first, behind the fountain as pieces of rock and debris dropped around me.
Immediately, I rose to one knee. With my other leg extended straight out to my side, I sighted the gargoyle that held the second blast stick. Calling upon my concentration to block the screams and orders echoing from the battlements, I drew the bow back. With a vision of the arrow flying true, I loosed the shaft and whispered, “Eshshah” to light the dragonscale embedded in the arrow. I didn’t move my bow or take a breath until it ignited.
Before the fuse burned far, I rolled to the other side of the broken fountain, came up on my knee and let fly a shot to the drain spout that held the first blast stick.
“Ugh!” It went wide.
Soldiers ran in every direction. Whipping out another arrow, I got it off at once. Keeping my eyes on the trajectory, I ducked in close to the fountain as blast number two sent stones, debris and bodies flying into the air.
I let out a cry of frustration. The force of the explosion had caused my arrow to veer, colliding with a soldier who’d run into its path. The point
lodged in his thigh. As he fell, his head turned in my direction. He shouted and gestured toward me.
There was only time to loose one more arrow before I retreated. Paying no heed of being spotted, I stood, and with a self-control that surprised me I aimed, released the shaft and whispered Eshshah’s name. Straightaway, I spun around and ran for the kitchen and the escape tunnel.
The percussion of the last blast stick sent tremors through the ground as I made it to the cover of the bushes and growth at the other end of the courtyard. A satisfied smile touched my lips.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Chaos and confusion increased as roars and trumpeting filled the sky.
The dragons!
Outside the kitchen, I paused beside the crumbled wall to catch a quick glimpse of them. The frightful power of the winged beings overwhelmed me as they belched flames and dove in their attacks.
“Eshshah, I’m heading for the tunnel,” I said as I rushed into the kitchen and made my way toward the escape hatch.
A noise behind me made me spin around.
I froze. Several people stood in the doorway on the other side of the room.
Galtero. His eyes met mine with an evil glare that sliced into my heart.
Accompanying him were three guards and a lady — the black-caped beauty I’d seen when I came out of the oubliette. I remembered her name as Ravana.
“Get her!” Galtero shouted at his guards.
My eyes darted right and left. There was no escape. I had to fight.
His three men-at-arms charged across the large room. The two in front wielded halberds, the third followed with a sword and shield. The soldier on the left had his weapon cocked back over his shoulder as he ran. Keeping up with him, the man on the right held the spear point of his poleaxe leveled at me.
“Eshshah, I need your strength,” I said.
A surge of power rushed through me.
Diving for my glaive behind the work table where I’d hidden it, I rolled to my feet before they closed the distance. I pealed to my left as the first attacker swung. His aim went high. I ducked. The air swished over my head. Constantly moving to keep only that guard within reach, I shoved the butt end of my glaive between his legs and wrenched hard across his thigh. The man lurched and went down hard. His weapon flew forward. I plunged my blade into the back of his unarmored leg. He writhed on the floor as his blood pooled around him.
His death cries had little effect on me.
I maneuvered around the downed guard’s body in an effort to trip up the second man. The move didn’t work. His reach was long. I dodged the blade of his halberd. The glint in his eyes reflected his determination to end my life. My teeth clenched.
Not today, sir.
We exchanged a series of blows before I slid to his right.
Now’s my chance.
I moved in close and brought my glaive over his right shoulder and behind him. Using it as a lever, I pushed forward on the top end of the staff and stuck my foot in front of him. He crashed to the floor, face first. I drove my blade through the base of his skull.
Breathing heavy, I turned my attention to my next attacker. He set upon me with his sword and shield. Leaping back, I opened the distance between us and thrust my glaive. He brought his shield down to block. Still backing and evading his strikes, I jabbed high. My opponent raised his shield up to parry. I executed another sequence of low then high strikes.
Ha, I have him trained and just where I need him.
I dropped my shoulder, feinting a low thrust. He lowered his shield. My glaive, still held high, I struck him in the throat. He fell. A huff of air forced from his lungs.
I must have been a mercenary or an assassin. Else why am I not feeling the emotion I should for three dead men? Had I been in so many battles, seen so much death, they’re no longer people to me?
I shook off that horrid thought. Trying to catch my breath, I spun to face Galtero.
All through my fight with the three guards, I made an effort to stay aware of him, the woman and their location in the room. They had steered themselves almost at my back. Galtero drew his sword. Trying to even my breath, I crouched and readied my glaive.
“Well, I see my men have neglected to inform me you were running loose in my castle — once again.” With a wicked laugh, he added, “But that is all well and good, because in the end I will be the chosen one to bring down the legendary Amáne of Teravinea. This time I’ll take full advantage of my opportunity.”
His female companion spoke up. “No, Galtero, don’t. I can take care of her.”
The legendary Amáne of Teravinea?
Ignoring the lady, Galtero’s eyebrows raised as he moved toward me. “Oh? Do I detect a hint of uncertainty as to your identity? You still don’t know who you are, do you?”
Revulsion rippled through me at the sound of his oily voice and the pleasure he took in recognizing my confusion.
“I know who I am, so you can wipe that smirk off your face.”
I swallowed. I know my name, but that’s the extent of it.
Struggling for a neutral expression, I hoped he didn’t catch the part I left unsaid.
“You’re lousy at lying,” he said, his vile grin widening.
I pressed my lips together. Hatred burned in my heart.
His sword held vertical, he closed the space between us. I stepped back to keep the distance I needed for a strike with my glaive. We circled each other. I made the first move and feinted a lunge at him. His reflexes were good, even at his age.
Where’s the woman?
I worked my way around to place her, once again, between Galtero and me.
How did that maneuver come so naturally?
I didn’t know what she had in mind, but I certainly couldn’t show her my back.
She cursed at Galtero. “I’m warning you. You must leave her to me!”
“Enough, Ravana, she’s mine,” Galtero barked at her. “Now, go. Follow through with our plans. I’ll meet you once I finish her.”
She didn’t leave, but kept repositioning herself. I countered her movements as I dealt with Galtero.
Having the shorter weapon, he made smart use of the work tables and old storage jars in the kitchen, putting them between himself and my blade — to stay just out of my reach. He grabbed at anything not tied down and hurled it at me. I couldn’t get close enough to throw a worthwhile shot.
A flying stool clipped my head. I let out a yelp and missed my footing.
“You’re not as tough as the accounts claim you are, little girl.” He said between breaths. He took the advantage and pressed toward me.
I shoved my shoulders back and rallied, parrying a series of his strikes. One after the other, but he still managed to push me back.
Galtero’s next swing went wide. His control had lessened from the beginning of the fight. His breathing became labored. He stumbled. The black-caped beauty must have noticed as well. Galtero was losing his upper hand.
She called out to him in an angry voice, yet with a hint of fear. “Galtero, don’t be a fool. Step aside and let me handle her.”
Who is this lady that she can speak to her king like that?
But Galtero had his jaw set and his mouth pressed in a stubborn line. His resolve to kill me read clearly in his eyes. My intent to live eclipsed that.
Ravana cursed and rushed at us, her arms raised. She held no weapon.
Galtero and I now fought in the open. The lady danced for position, but I circled to keep him between us. He moved in close for an overhead shot. I brought my glaive horizontal and blocked his strike. Grunting, I pushed it up against him to trap his sword. Eshshah’s strength still filled me. I let go of my right hand and reached behind me. With one swift move, I unsheathed my dagger from its scabbard at my back, brought it up under his rib cage and sank the blade into his black heart. Galtero’s face twisted in shock and fear. Hot blood soaked my arm.
His eyes full of hatred stared into mine. I shivered. He grappled at the
blade I still held embedded in his chest. His bony hands enclosed around mine and tightened with surprising strength. Gurgling something incoherent, pink foam filled his mouth. His grip loosened. He slumped to the ground.
Before his body stopped twitching, Ravana shrieked, “Noooooo!”
She tore her eyes away from Galtero and shot me a ghastly look. My heart chilled. In the next breath, she raised her hand and made a throwing motion. A ball of fire blasted toward me. I leaped and batted it away with my glaive. As I looked on in shock, she hurled more fire balls.
She’s the sorceress.
The lady showed no sign of slowing as she released the projectiles in rapid succession. I evaded and deflected them as she continued her barrage. The effects of my battles were wearing on me. I couldn’t hold her much longer.
A searing pain exploded in my shoulder. The force spun me around and threw me to the ground. I screamed in pain. My glaive dropped and I grabbed my arm. Just as quickly, I released it. My hand had burned by just touching my injury. Eyes stinging from my smoldering flesh, I looked up to see the lady move toward me, a triumphant glow on her face. Like a spider stalking a fly caught in her web, she slowly glided closer.
I tried to get up, but could only manage a sitting position. My arm came up in a futile move to ward off her strike. Hovering above me, Ravana raised her hand to deal the death blow. She paused to gloat.
“Eshshah,” I whispered. I felt her increased strength. Although my breathing became labored, my pain dulled enough for me to think.
The scale. I’d almost forgotten.
I kept my position on the floor. Praying the black-caped lady would revel in her triumph for one more breath, I reached in my sleeve to pull out Charna’s black scale. Locking my gaze on the woman, and concentrating on her, I lifted the scale between us and quickly whispered, “Charna Yash-churka.”
Amáne of Teravinea - Black Castle (The Teravinea Series Book 4) Page 15
