At the opposite end of the magma chamber was a haphazard slit cut into the far wall. The opening was a continuation of the path that they followed ever deeper into the mountain. More chambers like the first one greeted them. They passed through each with caution until they entered one so different from the others Shanna knew it was the dwelling place of the Element of Fire. Though the chamber as a whole was much larger, it was what lay at the center which drew her full attention, for the path created by the Element of Earth led straightaway to a pyramid of monolithic proportions. Bathed in red, it was carved from the stuff of the very mountain. Impossible that it could have survived in the belly of Anaktoa unmolested, the pyramid nevertheless stood as a testament to some power Shanna had no hope of ever understanding.
"It is here where the elementalist named Jakom, entrusted with the Element of Fire and protected by its power, journeyed," Erlek said, the wonder in his own voice undisguised. "It is here where he threw himself into the burning lava, sacrificing himself so that no one would ever learn the Element's location. No one has lain eyes on such grandeur for nigh five hundred years."
Without another word, Erlek approached the base of the towering structure. He stopped at the foot of a series of steps that went up and up, all the way to the pyramid's top.
Shanna, who had followed close behind with the others, stopped with him. "Who built this?" she asked.
"This," Erlek said, raising his hand to encompass the great structure, "was not built. Jakom, before sacrificing himself, invoked the Element to melt away the rock, to shape it. Hidden so amongst fire, its use would have gone unnoticed. This place is a fitting monument to the power that is the Element of Fire."
Engus Rul let the shrouded tip of his axe fall to the temple's first step. "It's a damn long walk up is what it is."
Shanna agreed.
Erlek started up first. As always, the sitheri followed closely. Engus Rul swung Soljilnor over his shoulder, then he started taking the steps two at a time. Shanna decided on a more conservative pace of just one at a time. Right away, memories of Graggly's returned to her. But unlike those times when she and Aaron had raced each other to the top, this time she was already feeling worn out before she'd even gotten started. She counted only thirty steps before her heart thumped in her chest. Another thirty and each breath became an effort. Drops of sweat slid down her back and she found herself using the sleeve of her robe to wipe her brow more and more frequently. She didn't know how many more steps she went before she finally let herself drop. Engus Rul must have observed her diminishing progress, because he was there, placing one arm around her and half-lifting, half-carrying her until she recovered enough to make her own way. By the time she had, they were at the top.
The moment Engus Rul let go his grip, Shanna went to the Element of Fire. It truly was fire, a single flame burning atop a column only half her height. There was no wood or other fuel to maintain it. It simply burned.
Next to her, Erlek spoke. "There is something you need to know of Fire that makes it wholly unique and different from Earth." He spoke in a whisper. "Earth is passive, quiet, patient. It offers little of anything until it is invoked. Fire is none of these things. Fire seeks mastery. It longs, it desires, it will act without provocation or summoning. Let it rule you and you will be no more, for it will burn you to nothingness. Now, this is what you must do…"
The rest of the savant's words fell on deaf ears. Entranced, Shanna raised a hand to the Element of Fire. In response, it licked higher, burned brighter. Though she had not touched it, Shanna felt something of it. It was different than what she'd felt when holding the Element of Earth. That had been subtle, almost gentle. What she felt emanating from the Element of Fire was sudden and forceful. Shanna almost withdrew her hand. Without having taken any action, the flame diminished and the feeling, while not subsiding, grew less threatening. Shanna took that moment to grab hold of the flame. Next to her, Erlek shouted something, but she wasn't listening. The moment the tip of her finger touched the Element, it erupted, engulfing her in a blossoming wave of heat and flame. Except that it didn't burn her, didn't touch her, and she knew Soljilnor had nothing to do with either. She was one with the Element, and it with her. It was a bond she scarce understood but one she embraced. Everything fire was—its heat, its ambition, its needs—augmented those very same things within her. They'd always been there, always been a part of her, but buried, or else revealed only in brief moments, when stirred into being by life's circumstances. Now, they moved to the forefront. The flame of the Element of Fire lessened, concentrating into a single flicker at the tip of her finger.
Shanna smiled.
Two of the Elements were hers.
17. Betrayal
ENSEL RHE HAD DETECTED THE character change in Serena almost immediately. Her formality, her hesitance to let either of them enter their guest rooms, the nervous quiver in her voice when he'd announced his departure so soon after just arriving. Not that the last was all that unusual. He'd never stayed long on past visits. But this time was different. He hadn't arrived carrying missives and would not be carrying the responses to such letters when he left. There was no longer anywhere to take such things. His journey from this point went forward to someplace new, some place of his own choosing. He'd no idea where he'd go. Not home. Never there. Perhaps the windswept plains of Kallendor, or the lake lands of Vranna. Both fiefdoms of men, but men most often understood what he was about. They understood loss and the need for revenge. Ansanom had called Krosus and his pack tenacious. But they only hunted one boy. Ensel Rhe hunted an entire race. He'd kill them all, too. Every last one, until he found his Hannu. Once he was satisfied Ansanom had nothing nefarious in mind, his duty here would be done. But not before.
He stalked into the room expecting a trap. Always assume the worst. It was a soldier's mantra he'd learned long ago. It kept his hand on the pommel of his khatesh and his senses on full alert as he circled the chamber, inspecting everything. This was a sorcerer's abode, where even the furniture might pose a threat. But though he circled the room twice, neither the bed nor the armoire lurched to life. Nor did an inspection for secret doors in walls or beneath the central rug reveal anything. A look outside through the room's stained glass window—it did not open—revealed nothing but darkness. The tub was empty. When Ensel Rhe tested the spigot only water came out. There was an array of lit candles and a tray of food and wine, the latter possibly poisoned or, more likely, magicked. No way of knowing unless he sampled them, something he had no intention of doing.
Not satisfied, he circled the room once more, checking everything again. There was nothing between the mattresses, beneath the bed, or in drawers or on ledges. If there were secret openings, he could not find them, though he suspected the gap between door and floor was adequate to admit a gaseous attacker if that was how Ansanom meant to deal with him. The wizard would make it quick. He'd not want to take any chances. Perhaps while he slept, or a toxic mix while he bathed.
Ensel Rhe stopped prowling the room. He took a deep breath.
Perhaps there was no trap at all. He'd detected nothing untoward about the old wizard, and he and Aaron had been well-treated. Ensel Rhe reminded himself that they were here because of Aaron, not himself. This was not his life, with murder and betrayal around every corner. Ensel Rhe unbuckled his sword and tossed it onto the bed. Gloves tucked under his belt followed. Clearing his mind of suspicion and paranoia, he realized the only naysayer was Ursool, whose warnings and predictions were often right, but not every time. Perhaps, in this case, she had simply misjudged things. The witch had never even met Ansanom, so what did she really know about him?
Ensel Rhe might have let it go, but something about Serena's reaction troubled him. The statement had unbalanced her. Perhaps it was only genuine surprise that he'd leave so quickly after just arriving, or perhaps his departure conflicted with her master's plans. Ensel Rhe imagined her running down the stairs the moment he'd closed the door, off to tell her master. Cursing
himself for not having cracked the door to observe, he went there now. He put his hand on the knob.
It would not turn.
He firmed his grip, adding his second hand to the effort. Still nothing. Ensel Rhe stepped back, centered himself, then launched a booted foot into the door. There was an audible thump, but the wood did not yield. There was only one way out of the room, and it was not here.
Ensel Rhe retrieved sword and gloves, then moved to the table where lie the tray of food and wine. He used his arm to shove the tray aside and immediately regretted it as the wine bottle shattered into a cloud of sapphire-colored smoke. He eyed the expanding cloud for less than a second, then he seized the table with both hands and threw it through the stained glass window. It had the desired effect, leaving only a few jagged pieces that Ensel Rhe promptly punched away. Beyond was a thin ledge and creeping vines that grew the length of the wall. Remembering the danger that had chased them here, he scanned the night for the hounds and their master. Seeing no sign of them, he took hold of a thick strand of the vines and stepped out onto the ledge. With singular determination, he made his way towards Aaron's room.
It was dark and cold, his breath appearing in short, impatient bursts. Faint candlelight from the next window over—Aaron's room—guided him. He was halfway there when he felt something twist around his leg. It squeezed his calf, hard enough that Ensel Rhe grunted in pain. Letting go of the vines with one hand, he drew his dagger and sliced down. The blade cut away the appendage and his leg was freed, but only for a moment as another grabbed hold of his other leg and yet another began snaking about his outstretched arm. He need not examine his attacker to know it was the vines themselves that assaulted him.
They came suddenly. The one at his arm twisted around his hand, the one already around his leg moved further up like a snake slithering up a tree, more wrapped about his outstretched arm, and still more went for his torso. Ensel Rhe reacted in kind, flipping his blade around to slice away at the vines clinging to his weapon arm. Then he cut at the ones wrapped around his leg and broke free of those encircling his torso by launching himself further along the ledge towards Aaron's window. He used the vines about his hand to keep from falling. But his leap was only met by more vines as they lashed at him all over again. From there, he fought for inches. The vines had no strategy. They simply came at him, twisting and entwining about any part of him they could. One dagger was not enough as a handful of thick vines gained purchase around his midriff. While Ensel Rhe was occupied with those, another wrapped around his thigh while yet another clenched hold of his other leg. The window was only scant feet away now. A vine lashed around his shoulder, pulling him closer to the wall while the others joined in trying to pin him there. Ensel Rhe's pace was slowed from a crawl to half a snail's pace. In another moment, he'd not move at all. How long, then, before they wrapped around his throat? Out of options, Ensel Rhe did the only thing he could. He kicked himself away from the wall. For one moment, suspended at the height of his swing, his vision swept the wall's breadth where vines slithered across it as if a bed of snakes. Then he was swinging not toward the wall but at the window. He smashed through the glass, landing on his feet, but with the vines still tangled about him. He ripped one arm free, drew his khatesh and, with three slices, freed himself.
He noticed right away that Aaron was gone. A long-necked wine bottle—identical to the one in Ensel Rhe's room—was uncorked and empty, with no trace remaining of the sorcerous gas. Still, he kept his distance in case lingering airs remained. The tub was partially filled. Steam still drifted from the heated water and Aaron's cloak lay draped over a chest at the foot of the untouched bed. The door leading out into the hallway was ajar. Ensel Rhe strode to it, pulling on it so hard it swung around on its hinges and hit the inside wall with an audible smack. Out in the hall, there was nothing. He peered over the balcony, down to the foyer where Ansanom and his apprentice had greeted them. He saw only the flickering shadows cast by the wall lanterns. Next, he looked up, where Ansanom's workshop was. An open stair, separate from the main one, spiraled up to that floor. Ensel Rhe took enough of the steps to gain a narrow view of flickering wall lanterns. Ascending the remainder of the steps in a rush, he found a balconied hall much like that of the second floor except that here there was only one door which, presently, was closed. Approaching it directly, Ensel Rhe smashed it open with one booted foot. He went in sword and dagger first.
Faint moonlight shone through a trio of small ceiling windows, bathing the room with minimal light. There were no torches, no candles, no braziers to give light to a wizard at work. Nor were there any open spellbooks or bubbling instruments. Whatever purpose the room served, it was no wizard's workshop.
Another trick.
A groan sounded behind him. Spinning around, he just saw an iron portcullis sliding down the length of the doorway. It hit the floor with a resounding clang. Ensel Rhe set weapons aside for a moment to grip the bars with both hands. After a few moments of exertion proved fruitless, Ensel Rhe turned back to the room. He examined every corner, every bit of the floor and ceiling, looking for any sign of another way out. But for a bookcase lined with dusty books, several tables mostly bare, and, standing at opposite corners, identical suits of armor complete with long swords and visored helmets shut tight, the room was empty. It was the suits of armor which held Ensel Rhe's attention the longest. They were of intricate design and deadly. Jagged spikes ran along vambraces and cuisses, pauldrons were crowned with a trio of barbs, and each breastplate was lined up and down with points of steel. Ensel Rhe had not had time to finish his inspection when, not entirely unexpectedly, the twin suits of armor began to shamble to life. Steam exuded from the necks and there was a whirring sound as gears began to spin. The scrape of metal, jingle of mail, and creak of leather stiff from too much time immobile sounded next. It was enough to cause Ensel Rhe to take a step away. More steam shot forth as arms lifted long swords in gauntleted hands. Then armored legs groaned and took one step and then another as the suits of armor lurched forward. Ensel Rhe, with nowhere to go, tightened his grip on his weapons and waited for the inevitable.
* * *
Aaron found waking a thoroughly unpleasant experience.
His head hurt, his body ached, and his mind felt laden with a fog so thick it was near suffocating. Though he was quite certain he willed his arms and legs to move, they would not respond. Through the haze, it was difficult to know for sure. He could at least tell that it was cold, especially along his back and that whatever it was he laid upon was hard. He realized that his shirt had been removed, as had his shoes and socks. Another attempt to move confirmed a suspicion that he was bound at his ankles and wrists. He'd been tied up before. It had been night. Corrin and his gang had stripped him to his drawers then dragged him into Even's Plaza to leave him bound to a crier's post. Fortunately, Aaron had gotten himself loose and found his clothes before morning had come and anyone had seen him. He didn't think he'd have such luck now.
"Awake so soon?"
A tall candelabra lined with a row of four blazing candles sprang to life. More light lit up behind him. For all their ambiance, the room remained quite dark.
"Master Ansanom," Aaron said, his voice not sounding right to his ears, "what… why am I…"
Aaron went silent as Ansanom's face appeared above his. The wizard peered down at Aaron through spectacles just perched at the tip of his nose. He wore green robes now that rustled about his person as he ground away at something in a small mortar. "I apologize for the dark," Ansanom said, "but some of the compounds do not abide the light until they have been rendered inert." The sorcerer halted his work and dipped two fingers into the mixture. His fingers came out covered in a dark, sooty concoction that he spread along both of Aaron's arms. He then walked to where Aaron's feet were bound. His gait was surprisingly smooth, bearing none of his earlier geriatric signs. Once he'd marked the tops of Aaron's feet in similar fashion, Ansanom exchanged the crucible for a knife.
> Aaron saw the shine of the blade in the torchlight and tried to distance himself from it, but his bonds held him firm.
"What—What are you—"
Words became a cry of pain as Ansanom slashed the tip of the knife along Aaron's left arm precisely where he'd just spread the unguent. Aaron wracked himself against the table, straining every muscle, but the leather straps would not yield and, further, repaid him in kind by biting deeper into his flesh. Ansanom paid his antics no regard as he made his way around the table and slashed Aaron's other arm in an identical manner as the first. Aaron clenched his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut. Tears streamed out anyway. Not another cry escaped his lips, though, not even a whimper, as Ansanom next moved to his feet and slashed them also.
Aaron heard the legs of a stool dragging across the floor. He opened his eyes to moist slits, watching as Ansanom sat down. With the sorcerer so close and the knife wet with blood—his blood—Aaron went into a fit. Trying to free himself, he arched his back, flexed his arms, and shifted his legs as much as he was allowed. None of it did any good.
Ansanom, recognizing the cause of Aaron's distress, put the knife away. "We're quite done with such unpleasantness."
Aaron didn't care. He continued to struggle against his bonds until, finally, pain and exhaustion won out, and he gave up.
When he was done, Ansanom spoke. "You came to my house full of questions. Now, you no doubt have many more. Why you were drugged, why you are strapped to a table, and, last, why I would betray not only you and our eslar friend, but my colleague, Elsanar, as well. I will answer all of your questions if you wish. First, though, you will tell me something. You will tell me of the Elements. Of the Five Elements."
The Five Elements Page 24
