“Just like the ritual tablet,” I said. I wondered what the inscriptions said. If the Knight of Venomhold really was in league with the Dark Ones, maybe the inscriptions were summoning spells. There were pictures amongst the inscriptions, images of men with the heads of eagles and bulls with the heads of bearded men.
The gallery ended in a wall of black stone, three archways opening off from it. I turned right and left, feeling the tug of the key against my fingers as the tracking spell did its work.
“Left,” I decided. “And up, I think.”
“The left stairs go down,” said Boccand.
“Yeah,” I said. “That’s inconvenient. We need to go up a bit.”
“The stairs on the right go upwards,” said Cecilia.
I considered for a moment, measuring the tug upon the key.
“Then we go right and up,” I said.
The steps spiraled up and up, climbing higher into the half-ruined fortress of Venomhold. More patches of misty green light marked the walls, illuminating the way. The light looked compelling and repulsive at the same time, a far cry from the harsh blue-white light that had marked the spells of the Knight of Grayhold. I felt a strange urge to touch the light, but I knew that would be a very bad idea. Boccand gripped one of Cecilia’s hands, likely to keep her from touching the light. In his other hand he carried his aetherometer, and he glanced at it every few paces.
“Are you doing anything useful with that thing?” I said.
“It will let us know if anyone casts a spell nearby,” said Boccand. “Some of the Rebels can use magic, as can many of the Knight’s creatures. It might detect magical traps as well.”
“Useful little gadget,” I said. “I’ll have to get my hands on one.”
“I’m surprised your employer didn’t teach you how to use one,” said Boccand.
A flicker of black amusement went through me. He hadn’t used Morvilind’s name because he didn’t want Cecilia to hear it, because hearing Morvilind’s name would put her at risk. Which spoke a lot about Morvilind’s power. Here, even in the heart of Venomhold, Boccand didn’t want to get on Morvilind’s bad side.
Considering what had happened the last time he had irritated Morvilind, that made sense.
Yet why hadn’t Morvilind taught me how to use an aetherometer, or even mentioned that such instruments existed? It would have made me more effective, and I could think of a dozen times in the last five years when a device that sensed magical force would have been useful.
Maybe he didn’t want me to have the skill because I might learn something he didn’t want to me to know…something that I could use against him, perhaps?
It was something to consider if I survived.
The stairs ended and we stepped onto another broad terrace, higher than the one below. A cold wind blew past us, more of the mad auroras dancing overhead. The key tugged to my left, towards a massive hall that looked like some sort of demented, enormous cathedral.
Twelve men stood before the doors, speaking to each other in low voices, and as one they turned to look at us.
Crap.
They had the look of Rebels – various fatigues and camouflage jackets and helmets. They all carried a wide variety of guns, none of which would work here. Unfortunately, they all had swords or clubs. I could probably kill a few of them with my magic, and so could Boccand, but the rest of them would overwhelm us. Or they would run and get the anthrophages or the Knight herself, and then we would definitely be finished.
Unless I talked my way out of this.
Boccand stiffened, starting to speak.
“Follow me,” I muttered. “For God’s sake don’t talk!”
Boccand glared at me, and Cecilia swallowed, and I strode forward.
I looked the part of a Rebel, too. I had the black leather jacket, the cargo pants, the AK-47 and the pistols at my belt. My ski cap and tinted goggles and mask were still in place, which meant they couldn’t see my face. Maybe with a little bluffing I could pull this off.
I slipped the key into my pants pocket, flexing my left hand as I readied a spell.
One the Rebels, a middle-aged man with a scarred face, stepped forward. “What’s your business here?”
I stopped well away from him, folding my arms over my chest. One of the downsides of only standing five foot three is that it’s really hard to intimidate people.
“Get out of my way,” I said, “or suffer the consequences.”
The Rebel let out a nasty laugh. “That so, little girl?” He looked at Cecilia and leered. “We were told there were women here. I didn’t think they would be delivered.” He laughed again. “Why don’t you take off your clothes and turn around a few times so we can have a good look at you, and we’ll get started.”
I had forgotten about that part. The Rebels had a practice of capturing women to give to their soldiers as prizes, using drugs to keep them obedient and docile. My skin crawled as I realized that Venomhold might contain hundreds of such prisoners.
That meant it was time to go from persuasion to intimidation.
“Get out of my way, fool,” I said, reaching into my coat pocket and drawing out the medallion of the Dark Ones, “now, before my patience is exhausted.”
The Rebel leader flinched, and a few of the other men stepped back. “That…that is a Sign. Where did you…”
“Do you question the commands of the Dark Ones?” I snapped. I lifted my free hand, and a lightning globe spun into existence above my fingers. It snapped and crackled, spitting sparks, and I took another step forward. The Rebel leader almost fell over his own feet trying to back away from me. “Do you question my authority?”
“No, ma’am,” said the Rebel leader. “I…I didn’t recognize you. I…”
“Get out of my sight!” I roared. “Now!”
I flung the globe to emphasize the point. It didn’t have enough power to do much harm, but it exploded at the Rebels’ feet with a thunderclap, a thunderclap that echoed off the walls and cliffs. The Rebels sprinted for another archway on the far side of the balcony, vanishing from sight.
I let out a long breath behind my mask.
“How did you do that?” said Boccand. “They all but shouted ‘how high’ when you told them to jump.”
“I’ve dealt with Rebels a few times,” I said, thinking of Nicholas Connor. “Their leadership doesn’t respond well to insubordination.” I wondered if Nicholas had ever come to this bleak place. Certainly Sergei Rogomil had, given the amount of dark magic I had seen him use.
Well, I had shot Rogomil to death in the food court of the Ducal Mall, and while I had done a lot of things I regretted, that wasn’t one of them.
“Hurry,” I said. “Eventually those idiots will find someone who actually is in authority, and I want to be long gone by then.”
I drew the key out and walked halfway along the balcony, stopping before the massive doors to the cathedral-like structure. I grabbed one of the iron rings and started to pull, and Boccand helped me. We got the huge door open a few feet, and we slipped inside. I expected to find another immense hall, but instead it was a narrow corridor. More patches of green light glowed upon the walls, and iron doors lined the corridor.
“What is this place?” whispered Cecilia.
“Damned if I know,” I said.
“Some kind of barracks?” Boccand said. “How much farther, Rastov?”
I checked the key and my tracking spell. “Not much farther. Another few hundred yards.”
“Lead on, then,” said Boccand.
I headed forward through the green-lit gloom. The corridor stretched on, though after fifty yards I felt a cool breeze upon my face. We were approaching open air. Maybe a cavern of some kind? The air felt damp, and a distinct smell of rot came to my nostrils.
“A portcullis,” said Cecilia in a soft voice, pointing towards the ceiling.
I squinted into the gloom. “What’s a portcullis?”
“It’s something castles have,” said Bocca
nd. “It’s like this big metal grill. You pull the lever, and the portcullis drops down and seals off the archway.”
Now that he had explained it, I saw the massive iron portcullis resting in its niche in the ceiling. An iron lever as long as my arm jutted from the wall. Doubtlessly pulling on the lever would cause the portcullis to come crashing down, and it looked heavy enough to kill anyone caught beneath it.
“Don’t pull the lever,” I said.
“Right,” said Cecilia.
“It’s enchanted,” said Boccand, holding his aetherometer over his head as he squinted at the dial.
I cast the spell to sense the presence of magical forces, focusing upon the portcullis. Boccand scowled as my spell disrupted the reading on his aetherometer, and I focused upon the ceiling. There were powerful spells on the portcullis, most likely some kind of warding spells.
“I don’t think it’s trapped,” I said. “Just warded.”
“I wonder why?” said Boccand.
I hesitated. I had the distinct impression that we would find out soon.
“Keep moving,” I said.
A few yards later the corridor opened into a yawning black cavern. The floor was rough and uneven and wet, with stalagmites jutting from the ground like daggers. Here and there I saw heaps of bones, most of them human, and all of them looked as if they had been gnawed on by something with large, sharp teeth. Far in the distance, I saw another pale green glow, but it wasn’t enough to illuminate the cavern.
“Now what?” said Boccand.
“Do you know any spells to make light?” I said.
“I do,” said Boccand. “I just think…well, all those bones came from somewhere. Making some light might draw its attention.”
“And all this talking hasn’t?” said Cecilia.
“That, and if there is some kind of predator in here,” I said, fresh fear brushing my spine, “then it can probably smell us. We need light, but it would not.”
The fear redoubled, and I noticed another smell rising from the gloom, a sort of thick, musky stench that made me think of wild animals. I lifted my free hand and cast a minor spell, and my fingers gave off a harsh silver light. It looked a great deal like an LED flashlight, and I swept my hand back and forth, letting the cone of light move over the rocky floor of the cave.
I saw the bloodrat crouching twenty yards away, and my heart froze with terror.
When I say “bloodrat”, you probably think of a really big rat, like the kind of rats you see in major cities. When I was in Los Angeles, I saw some enormous rats scurrying through the dumpsters behind the restaurants where Nicholas and his friends had met. Those had been big rats, but the bloodrat was something else entirely. A kitten and an African lion are both technically cats…and those dumpster rats were to the bloodrat as the kittens were to the lion.
The thing was huge. It was easily the size of a grown ox. It had spiky crimson fur, seeming to glisten as if it had been dipped in fresh blood, and I saw that it had left a damp red trail as it crawled forward. Its eyes were like hot, glowing coals, and its thick tail coiled back and forth like a whip. Black claws tipped its paws, and its huge teeth looked like giant yellow daggers, the whiskers quivering behind its nose like high-tension wires.
The bloodrat stopped at the edge of my light, and Cecilia went rigid with fear.
“Head towards the other side,” I said, jerking my head to the right, keeping my eyes on the bloated creature. Boccand and Cecilia backed towards the other side of the cavern, where the glow from my spell revealed another corridor leading deeper into Venomhold.
The bloodrat let out a chittering, high-pitched laugh, and it began to talk.
Yeah, I should mention that. The bloodrats, like the anthrophages, are intelligent. They can speak, and some of them can even use magic. Since they live just about forever if something doesn’t kill them first, they can become powerful wizards.
“Little morsels,” it said in clear English, its voice a basso rumble despite that disturbing chitter of a laugh. “Little morsels in my lair. Are you lost, little ones? Or have the priests of the void lords sent you here to die? I know not, nor do I care. Come closer, little ones. Come and let me drink your hot blood.”
“You will let us pass,” I said, holding out the Sign of the Dark Ones, speaking in the same tone of voice I had used when addressing the Rebels. “You shall let us pass, and you shall not interfere with our business…”
Again the bloodrat emitted that chittering laugh, and it skittered closer, moving with fluid grace despite its bulk.
“You think to command me, little morsel?” said the bloodrat. “Only the Knight can command me. And the Knight has decreed that any mortals who enter my cave are mine to eat…whether they are thrown into my cave, or they are foolish enough enter of their own volition.”
My heart sped up, but I stepped back, tucking the medallion into my coat. Boccand took a deep breath and pushed Cecilia behind him, flexing his fingers as he gathered power for a spell. The bloodrat reared up on its hind legs, and grayish-blue light played around its forepaws as it began casting a spell. Given the number of bones littering the cavern, the creature had to be familiar with magical combat. It would know how to ward against magical attack.
But could it ward against two kinds of attacks at once?
“Boccand,” I said. “Elemental fire. Now!”
He cast a spell, fire filling his hand, and flung a blazing white-orange sphere of elemental flame at the bloodrat. Boccand’s fire spell was better than mine, and I only manage a gout of fire that lashed out from my hand to strike at the bloodrat.
It didn’t matter. The bloodrat’s warding spell blocked both spells. Again the creature loosed its hideous, chittering laugh, and it scuttled forward a few paces, waddling on its hind legs, the fat rippling beneath its blood-colored coat of fur. The stench of the creature filled my nostrils, a mixture of musk, blood, and the hideous odor seemed to settle upon me like a layer of grease.
“Little magic for little morsels,” rumbled the bloodrat. “Mortals think to wield magic? Bah! Like monkeys with pointed sticks.”
“Again!” I said. “Batter down his wards! Strike!”
Boccand gave me a look that was half-dubious, half-despairing, but we struck again, throwing more fire at the bloodrat. The creature poured more power into its wards, and our strikes did nothing. Again Boccand’s spell was hotter and more focused than mine, and the bloodrat deflected it with ease.
“Fresh blood,” hissed the bloodrat, coming closer. “Fresh blood for…”
I cast another spell, and the bloodrat reinforced its ward against fire.
However, since the ward had been cast against fire, it did nothing to stop my lightning globe, which sailed through the ward and smacked right into the bloodrat’s ugly head.
The bloodrat reared back with an enraged scream, its limbs and tail thrashing in a mad dance. Whatever coated its fur also seemed to conduct electricity, because fingers of lightning curled up and down its body. Before the creature could recover I flung another lightning globe, filling it which as much power as I could summon. The bloodrat went into a thrashing dance, falling to all fours, and those horrible black eyes fell upon me, promising me a quick and very painful death.
“Run!” I shouted, sprinting for the far end of the cavern.
Boccand and Cecilia ran after me. I didn’t know what kind of shape Cecilia was in, but she looked fit enough, and even with Boccand’s longer legs she kept pace with her boyfriend. I called silver light to my hand once more, the light bobbing before me, and I ran up the slope of the cavern’s far side to another corridor of black stone. Green light glimmered on the walls like glowing fungus clinging to the stone, and ahead I saw…
A furious scream filled my ears, and I risked a glance over my shoulder.
The bloodrat was coming at me, translucent slime dripping from its massive teeth. It was fast, far faster than it should have been.
Boccand and Cecilia skidded into the black c
orridor, and I jumped after them, reaching for the wall as I threw myself forward.
And as I did, I yanked the iron lever jutting from the wall.
There was the rasp of iron upon stone, and the portcullis slammed to the floor with a massive crash a few feet from me. I stumbled back, catching my balance, and the bloodrat skidded to a halt on the other side of the portcullis.
Another two seconds and it would have had me.
The creature let out a furious scream, raking at the iron bars, and for an awful instant I thought it would tear through the portcullis. Yet the bars glowed with blue fire, and the bloodrat recoiled from the warding spell.
“I will not forget this, wizard morsel,” snarled the bloodrat. “I will come for you, and will find you, and I shall devour all those you love…”
“Yeah, sure, you can get in line with all the others,” I said, turning away from the grating. “Let’s go.”
“How…how did you know there would be a second portcullis there?” said Cecilia, glancing back at the bloodrat. The creature had gone motionless, its hellish eyes promising horrible vengeance.
“The bloodrat said it only obeyed the Knight,” I said, drawing the key back out of my pocket and recasting the tracing spell. My head ached a little from the effort of using so much magic over the last few hours. Or maybe it was hurting from the car crash. My shoulders certainly were. “And if the Knight lets the Rebels visit, I figure she wouldn’t want her pet bloodrat wandering around eating her allies.”
“That was quite a gamble,” said Boccand.
“You’re one to talk,” I said, feeling the tugging upon the key. “We’re almost there.”
The corridor opened into a vast rectangular courtyard, the towering walls of Venomhold rising overhead. Pillared arcades ringed the base of the walls, making the entire thing look like the courtyard of some ancient prince’s palace. The auroras across the black sky had turned green, matching the eerie glow of the walls.
The key shivered in my hand.
“Here,” I said, putting it into my pocket. “Right here. This will get us back to a relatively safe place on Earth.”
“Relatively?” said Boccand.
Cloak Games: Shadow Jump Page 16
