The Ossard Series (Books 1-3): The Fall of Ossard, Ossard's Hope, and Ossard's Shadow.

by Colin Taber

  Sef pushed back, an arm around Matraia and his boots on stone.

  After a moment of spraying and turbulence, where their wet passage grew deep and noisy, they were suddenly free as they were sent speeding down the slope.

  As he flashed past the rubble, he noted a small gravel bank behind it... A place of respite where they could have escaped the flow.

  Or could have if they’d known about it, but now it was behind them.

  Matraia pointed ahead. “Look, there he is!”

  They could see Anton’s head bob up ahead, his silver hair aglow in the green light. He was battered, but still conscious, his hands out to the side, steadying his passage. He was too distant for them to help.

  Sef called, “Anton, are you alright?”

  A call came back. “Barely, but your light’s helping!”

  “See if you can grab any of the rubble that next comes in your way. We’re not far behind you. If you can delay your progress for a moment, we might be able to catch up.”

  The water roared on, the sound echoing through the tunnel as all three of them were dragged on.

  Anton cried, “On the left!”

  Between the splash of turbulence and the green light, it was hard to see what he was talking about until Anton suddenly rose up out of the water.

  A low ridge of rubble gathered there, barely above the surging flow. Anton had not just tried to slow himself but had grabbed on to it and was now climbing onto it, as much as he could, hand over hand, desperate and unwilling to let go.

  Sef could see that he’d managed it amidst the stirred waters and was holding tight. The spill of rubble did not rise high, but blocked off about one quarter of the width of the drain, forcing the water to gather, but not as violently as the previous bottleneck.

  Matraia worked to steer them in the right direction.

  As they neared, Anton looked back, saw them, and called, “I’ll grab you!”

  Sef cried, “Matraia first!”

  Anton steadied himself on the top of the low rise, while Sef and Matraia continued to try and move themselves into a better position so that they might pass as close to Anton as they could.

  Nearing him and now only moments away, Sef said to Matraia, “I’m going to push you towards him. Grab his hand.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’ll grab on to the rubble.” He then yelled to Anton, “Get Matraia! I’ll go for the rocks!”

  The Outleaguer nodded. “The ground is firm underneath, but the current will try to steal your feet.”

  The two rushed towards him, the water stirring and swirling away to the right as it sought the open path. Both of them did what they could with their hands and kicked out with their feet to slow down, keeping themselves heading close to the spill of rubble.

  Only a moment to go.

  Anton was now lying down on top of the biggest section of rock, ready as he could be to help them as they approached.

  Sef asked Matraia, “Ready?”

  She gave a nod as she kicked out with her legs to try and stay as far to the left as she could.

  Sef was conscious of how much he was being weighed down by his gear, including his pack and scabbarded sword, the latter of which so far still remained miraculously secure at his hip. He said, “Grab Anton’s hand; I’ll work on finding my feet.”

  The water swirled and grew chaotic, the flow slowing marginally as it hit the rocks.

  Matraia reached out, while Sef pushed off the stone floor.

  Anton stretched, his legs spread behind him to balance him on the rock as he held both hands in front.

  The water got more chaotic where it hit the rubble, yet Matraia stayed on course to meet Anton, despite the water’s roil.

  Sef did what he could to stay with her but focused on keeping her heading left, even when the current tried to draw them around to the right and through the gap.

  After a spray and upsurge of water, Sef was quickly dragged an arm length away. The water continued to grab at him, drawing him further to the right, where it sped away.

  Matraia yelled out, as did Anton.

  Sef growled, “Get Matraia, don’t worry about me!”

  The Outleaguer did what he was bid, closing his hands around Matraia’s own. He answered, “You’ve got to make it. The roar coming from further down means there’s something more than drains ahead!”

  Sef kicked off the drain floor again, trying desperately to push back towards the rubble at his left. He struggled against the speeding flow that only grew more powerful the further it took him away.

  Anton called out, “Sef!”

  Sef concentrated on the flow, trying to ride it to where he could get a secure hold on the rocks.

  Anton dragged Matraia in.

  Both of them turned to look at Sef, watching the water spray around him when he tried to hold his position against the current. Then a surge in water came past, knocking him under. When next he resurfaced, the flow had caught him and dragged him past the protruding rubble.

  Anton crawled forward, using one hand to anchor Matraia, while he reached out for Sef.

  Sef was being jostled in the thick of the current as it sped around the rocks. Just ahead of him, where the water’s path widened, the flow slowed and meandered before speeding away yet again.

  Anton lunged forward, now free of Matraia when she clambered up onto the rocks behind him. His hand thrust out, reaching desperately for Sef as his friend began to be dragged away.

  Sef reached back, straining, and their fingers brushed in the green light.

  Anton growled, “Grab me!”

  Sef kicked furiously against the water, throwing himself back against the current and gained a moment’s reprieve.

  Their fingers brushed again.

  Anton didn’t waste the chance – he stretched further, slid along the rocks, and wrapped his good hand’s fingers around Sef’s wrist. “Got you!”

  But the water continued to pull at Sef, trying to drag him away.

  The big Flet struggled to find his feet and get back to the rock, while Matraia grabbed onto Anton to anchor him as the Outleaguer leaned out over the flow.

  The water pushed Sef, dragging him, but he managed to get closer to the rock’s edge.

  “Hold on!” Anton called as he pulled back, dragging his friend to the rocks.

  Matraia wrapped her arms around Anton’s waist and her legs over the rocks as she tried to hold him in place.

  The effort paid off, with Sef dragged around to the far side of the rock and out of the worst of the water’s flow. Like the previous bottleneck, beyond it was a slope of rubble.

  Anton called out, “We’ve got you!”

  Sef used his friend’s grip as an anchor as he crawled up onto the rocks and gravel, laughing between gasps as he fell on to the stones. He was safe.

  Anton slid down to be beside him, not letting go of his cell brother.

  Matraia let out a whoop of joy.

  Chapter 17

  -

  Alone On The Road

  -

  The Northcountry.

  On our third night out – my second camped along the mountain road – I again awoke to find the fire burned down and the Prince gone.

  The wind was slow and relaxed, but of course never still. The moon above was full where it sat bathing the Northcountry in its silver light, its face a deep blue all a-swirl with whites.

  I figured the Prince was nearby, perhaps checking on the road further ahead as Ba Er Kaan was supposed to be close. I was apprehensive at first to be alone; after all, I was far from my people and on an abandoned road.

  But the same thing had happened the previous night and I had kept safe. More so, I couldn’t deny that if I was in some way threatened out here, I was more than capable of protecting myself, even if I was reluctant to work the celestial and risk stirring my deep hunger.

  In truth, I was probably the most dangerous thing in the mountains – not bandits, bears, mountain lions, or even a road
haunted by ancient ghosts.

  Chapter 18

  -

  Into The Fire

  -

  Varm Carga, the island of Kalraith.

  Sef, Anton and Matraia climbed out of the water and on to the rocks that had spilled from where the drain had buckled. Whatever movement had long ago disturbed the stone had cracked walls and sent great chunks of rock tumbling.

  The big Flet let the light blessing continue for now, as it was one of the few comforts they had. The soothing green glow worked to reassure them, certainly better than the constant roar of the chilled flow.

  As if Anton could read his friend’s mind, he spoke up and said, “The noise of the water means any foe near us can approach unheard.”

  Sef nodded, thinking on that. There were many foes around them, whether Kavists, gargoyles or the leathery-skinned vermin they had left behind in the last tunnel. He answered, “You are right, so we will catch our breath and then continue. Somehow.” He looked around them, examining the drain now that he was able to concentrate on something other than trying to keep his head above water.

  Anton said, “Hopefully we are nearly out.”

  The others could only agree.

  So, they lay there and began to rest, each of them letting their gaze rove over the passing water and surrounding walls.

  Sef still had his pack and his weapons, but Anton and Matraia had lost some of their gear, although both had retained their blades, which had been well strapped to their bodies.

  After a while, Sef pulled out the last of his food. He checked over anything that was wet and then handed that out for them to eat first, before it was completely ruined. The little that remained he repacked.

  They needed to get out and into the woods, not just to escape their pursuers, but to also avoid hunger.

  After a while, as they lay there, Sef said, “I’m not sure what is worse; the gargoyles or the tunnel beasts.”

  Anton nodded. “I’ve never seen such creatures. They are like large hairless rats, which I know they aren’t, but that’s what they remind me of. Either way, they are horrid.”

  Matraia sat up and put her back to the wall but had nothing to add.

  Sef said, “I’ve seen some huge rats over the years, particularly back in the slums of Newbank. You would not believe what you might stumble upon in the sewers there.”

  Surprisingly, Anton laughed. “I have been though many sewers, my friends, and I have also seen some stupefying things. Down in the south, in the Kramer Cities, Vangre is one metropolis I am not eager to visit again. The sewers there are not just a maze, but there are whole sections overrun by smuggling gangs, criminals, and even odd beasts.”

  Sef shook his head, looking back up the tunnel. “I’m not worried about creatures in a city that far away. Right now I’m only worried about what might be looking for us in the tunnel above or flying around the mountain we’re crawling through.”

  Anton agreed. “Yes, I suppose this is no time for nostalgia. We have enough troubles.”

  Sef asked, “These vermin, how dangerous a beast could one of them be?”

  “Dangerous enough, if it came upon you with an advantage, like when you were asleep, without light, or if it could come in numbers. I’m sure then they could do some real bloody damage and perhaps kill you.”

  “Yes, I suppose you’re right. It’s not always about swords and armour. Teeth and claws can be as lethal as a blade.”

  Anton nodded.

  Sef continued, thinking on it, “Worse still, the ones down here don’t seem to ever travel alone. You wouldn’t be dealing with just the one, but perhaps half a dozen or more. I’d say it would only take three of them to have a chance at overwhelming an armed man.”

  Anton looked around at their surroundings, searching the dark for sparkling red eyes in the subterranean night. “I suppose. I hadn’t thought of it like that, but now that you mention it, I agree.”

  Matraia remained quiet, watching the walls and ceiling around them. Her gaze often looked up the drain, as if she expected to see a pack of the creatures come charging down as they rode the rushing water.

  Having caught his breath, Sef said, “We need to move.”

  Anton stretched and carefully looked around. His gaze was currently fixed on where the flow disappeared, from down where a louder roar sounded. “There’s a waterfall down there. We can’t go that way.”

  Sef agreed, but was checking the ceiling. He could see something above them. He stepped over the rocks to be beneath a patch of raised ceiling, a square that sat half a pace higher above their heads. His movements brought the heart of the light blessing to it, illuminating the structure. “Look.”

  Something was up there, although most of it was so heavily caked with dust and cobwebs that it was hard to tell what they were looking at.

  Anton neared, “What is it?”

  Matraia got up and flexed her wings wide to stretch and dry before she came closer to also have a look.

  Sef could reach up and get his fingers to it, but only just. As he brushed it, the dust fell away, revealing an ancient grate. The light lit it enough to show that it was corroded.

  With a smile, he said, “This can get us back into the tunnel.”

  “Are you sure?” asked Anton.

  Sef glanced at him. “We know the tunnel was above us when we fell into the drain.”

  “Can we get through it?”

  “I’ll try, but it looks like it might be stuck in place. Who knows how long it has been there, settling in with time?” He looked at both Anton and Matraia, warning, “If I can open it, this will make some noise.”

  “So anything up there will know we’re coming?”

  “Yes, we have to assume so. But if anything is up there, it will most likely already have seen our light.”

  Anton shrugged. “We can’t stay here. We have hardly any food, let alone that these rocks aren’t going to get us to Dorloth.”

  Sef nodded and reached up to the grate, causing more dust to drift past and be sucked down the drain by the draft. He put his fingers through and gripped tight. He tried to move it.

  A rain of disturbed dust floated down as a reward.

  “It’s stuck,” he said, but he did not let go, instead bracing himself and putting jolts of force into it, grunting with each effort. He was only rewarded with more dust.

  Anton helpfully offered, “Try hitting it.”

  Sef glanced down at him with sweat beaded on his brow. The big Flet’s eyes didn’t look like he was thrilled with the advice.

  Anton took half a step back.

  Sef said, “It’s not even budging. I can’t feel it give at all.”

  “Well, it’s the only way for us to go. We have to get through it.”

  Sef’s gaze hardened. “I know, my friend.”

  Anton licked his lips. “Sorry.”

  Sef sighed. “It’s all right.” He turned back up and looked over what he could see of the grate. The metal was thick and corroded in some places, and covered by age-long build ups of dust in others, all locking it in place. Not all of it was light and easy to brush away like the dust. This was the mountain reclaiming its hollowed spaces.

  After checking it over, he said, “I can’t see a lock or latch, or even a hinge.”

  “So we can’t move it?” Anton asked.

  “I’ll give it a few hits, but I don’t think so.”

  Sef checked his footing then swung at the grate with open palms to try and loosen it. The bangs didn’t sound so loud when surrounded by the rush and roar of water, but he could hear the faint echo of his hits as they ran up and down the tunnel above them.

  Anton watched, his friend flexing his big arms as he tried his open palms first, then the undersides of his fists.

  Nothing, just more dust falling free.

  Sef finally dropped his hands and stepped back. He shook his head and said, “That’s not going to do it.”

  All three stood there looking up at the grate.

&
nbsp; After a frustrated pause that seemed louder than the roar of the water, Anton said, “We’ll have to try some magic.”

  Sef nodded. Dropping his gaze to look at his cell brother. “Yes, I can’t see forcing it any other way.”

  Matraia asked, “How?”

  Anton looked at it and suggested, “Perhaps just some heat to help pull it free?”

  Sef nodded. “It will be draining, but I should be able to do it.” He examined the grate, and then dropped his gaze to Anton. “I have never been strong with magic, not when I was with Kave, but Juvela is different.”

  Anton nodded. “She will give you all the power you need.”

  “Yes, but I’m not strong enough to tolerate much of it. I hope she is gentle.”

  Anton pursed his lips, his mind on something else.

  Sef knew what it was... The time the two of them, as cell brothers, had faced bars in fallen Ossard. He shook his head. “I will do it, carefully, and without the blood magic of our escape from imprisonment.”

  Anton nodded. “Yes, this is no time for that.”

  Matraia gasped to hear them even mention the term. She took a step back from them and hissed, “Blood magic is deadly!”

  Anton turned to her. “It was a matter of life or death.”

  “But it is spending not just your physical lifeblood, but your soul’s very essence!”

  Sef said, “Matraia, believe me, he knows. He studied blood magic while part of the Inquisition. He understands how dangerous it is, but also how to wield the blade. Neither of us wishes to repeat what we did to win our freedom and end a season of torment and torture.”

  She looked into his eyes, assessing him. Finally, she nodded.

  Sef waited for her to relax, and then said, “I’m going to call upon what power I can and see if I can pull this free. I will pull it down and put it on the rocks, so I need you both to stand back.”

  They stepped back, but there was not a lot of room on the rocky ridge they were marooned upon.