Secrets of the Stonechaser (The Law of Eight Book 1)

by Nicholas Andrews

  “You are the holder of the Fatexion. You will not be a sheep to be shepherded. You will rule over this world while Eversor wages his true war.”

  “And it will be a place without pain or sorrow,” Qabala said. “Yes, I’ve heard you say this before. I am grateful for your help, Pale One. You have freed me, allowed me to accomplish my dreams. So I allow your cult to flourish, and flourish it has. After all, I can now see you with my own eyes. Is that not a sign of increasing power?”

  “It is. But I fear you give yourself too fully to these other distractions. If you truly wish to aid in the Rebirth Cataclysmic, you will need both the Exemplus and the Fatexion.”

  “The Thrillseekers will be the key to that,” Qabala said. “It’s said they can seek out any treasure. They even found the Lost City of Visao once, if the stories are true.”

  “Not the Thrillseekers. The one who travels with them.”

  “The girl?” Qabala said. “What does she have to do with this?”

  “Everything. If you wish to hold the Exemplus as well, find them. Menista Congir saw into this girl’s heart. She is the key to the Exemplus, and must be taken in hand.”

  “What do I care for some girl?” Qabala asked. “Let her feed the dogs. Nerris is all I need. He is all I want.”

  “He will not have you, not so long as this girl draws breath.” The Tattered Man’s usual monotonous tone became more harried. She had never known him to betray any emotion, but now she sensed anger in his words.

  “Are you telling me he has taken up with some slattern?” Qabala demanded.

  “Your perspective is skewed,” the Tattered Man said. “All that matters now is the Exemplus. The Fatexion was merely the first part. I was led to believe you would be the one to find the Exemplus, but I was mistaken. Angelica’s last trick. I know now it is this girl who holds the secrets. She must not be allowed to acquire that power. The prophecy must be broken, and it must be you who does it.”

  “And once I have the Exemplus?” Qabala asked.

  “Then she will be of no further consequence, and you may dispose of her at your leisure. Only after that will you have your Nerris, for good and all.”

  The hazy form shimmered and the Tattered Man disappeared. Qabala bit at her fingernails. She did not like the sound of that at all. Had Nerris found someone else during his absence? It was absurd. She and Nerris shared a soul, and not a day went by that she did not regret driving him away. She knew he felt the same way. He had to. Yet now he was within her reach again. As soon as she sent word, Falares and Lukas would scour the countryside and bring them all to Palehorse.

  What the Tattered Man said had shaken her. Ever since the first time he came to her in her dreams, back when she was a little girl, she knew him to be correct in all things. Yet he had not foreseen this. If this girl who traveled with the Thrillseekers was the true Stonechaser, what did that make her? Was all of this meant for that girl?

  Qabala pounded on the window sill with a fist. Even if that was the case, she would not let it come to pass. This world would not know peace until she held it in the palm of her hand. What did some girl know of the heart of humanity and the eternal joy she intended to spread once the Rebirth Cataclysmic was at hand? She was Queen Qabala Aeterna. Nerris, Yagolhan, and the Fatexion belonged to her and no one else.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  NERRIS LIFTED THE leather flap of his tent and stared out into the cold morning air. Rain still fell in flat droplets, replacing the lush green hillside and dirt track of the day before with soggy grass and mud. They would not be able to continue on until the sky cleared. Dist had already caught a cold from the unseasonable chilly weather, and Nerris found himself sniffling as well.

  It had been like that ever since they left Agos. Crossing the border went smoothly at first. A border patrol found them, and they were herded to a nearby outpost for questioning, but Jhareth had done more preparing in Orrigo than they knew. Before crossing, he revealed two slavers’ robes for him and Nerris to wear, and collars for Dist and Len-Ahl. He twined rope between the collars and tied their hands, and they muddied themselves a bit, passing as runaway slaves. Slavery was prohibited by law in Agos, but there were Yagol slavers who hovered at the border, always ready to flit across and capture the runaways before they got far, returning them to Yagolhan and selling them for a quick profit. It was enough of a common practice that the border guards let them go after some general questions.

  Once they cleared the western edge of Zarseille Lake, Len-Ahl resumed her fluting. The accompanying winds blew them toward the southwest until they arrived at this spot, many leagues west of Lhan Del in the foothills of the Vilder Mountains. Len-Ahl claimed they were getting closer, as the gusts of wind grew stronger with each playing of the Prophecy’s song. However, due to the rain and the fact that they had no idea what they were looking for, they made camp just north of a village called Kesev.

  When they all had awakened, they gathered in Jhareth’s tent to figure out what to do next. “The Stonechaser Prophecy mentioned ‘beacons’ we have to find,” Nerris said. “Presumably so we know we’re still on the Exemplus’s trail.”

  “Yes,” Len-Ahl said. “This first beacon will guide us to the next, then the next, and so on until the Faery Footpath ends.”

  Dist scratched his head. “It seems like a convoluted way to do it. Why not send us straight to the Exemplus?”

  “You must remember there are others who seek this power,” Len-Ahl said. “What if the Cult were to get their hands on it? Eversor’s emergence would be all but assured.”

  “I’m wondering how many of these beacons there are,” Jhareth said. “I mean, how long will it take us to get to the end?”

  “I am not sure,” Len-Ahl said, “but I can guess. Ensuring no one but the true Stonechaser finds the Exemplus would require the magicks of nature itself to enforce. Queen Angelica had four brothers; add in her power and the number of beacons is five.”

  “That still doesn’t get us any closer to this one,” Nerris said. “It’s not just raining, but the wind is blowing as well, so ‘Paral’s breath’ is useless to us right now.”

  “We should ask the villagers,” Jhareth said. “They surely know the area well. Any landmarks or odd occurrences won’t have gotten by them.”

  Len-Ahl nodded. “I will go.” She garbed herself in a cloak and lifted the tent flap.

  “Right now?” Nerris asked.

  “Our encounter with the cultists in the Gosseen Mountains worries me. They must have the help of their god if they picked up our trail that quickly. We are in the heart of the Tattered Man’s power now, and must get what we came for and keep moving.”

  “At least let us come with you,” Nerris said.

  Len-Ahl shook her head. “You must not. I was playing my flute last night and sensed great sorrow in this place. Three armed men would not be welcome.”

  Without another word she disappeared into the wet morning, lifting the hood of her cloak against the rain. Jhareth watched her go and closed the tent flap when she walked out of sight. “I thought you two would be sharing a tent by now,” he said to Nerris.

  Nerris rolled his eyes. “Are we going to start with that again?”

  Jhareth grinned. “She’s begging for you to make a move, and I think you want her too.”

  “I agree,” Dist said. “Why are you so reluctant, Nerris? That’s not like you.”

  Nerris thought of Qabala, and the disaster their liaison had brought. Len-Ahl did not have the burdens of an Aeterna, but it felt wrong to court her while she grew accustomed to the outside world. She had her journey for the Exemplus also, and that was most important. Nothing should get in the way.

  “It’s not the right time,” Nerris said. “We have an urgent mission to attend to, and the stakes are too high to get distracted.”

  Jhareth and Dist shared a bemused look. “Is this about Ketsuya?” Jhareth asked.

  A lump formed in Nerris’s throat at the mention of her name. I
mmediately her oval-shaped face came to mind and he saw her lustrous black hair and olive skin, her angular brown eyes and proud smile. It was almost more than he could bear. “You two are insufferable.”

  “It is about her,” Dist said. “Nerris, you can’t blame yourself for that. The Akuma War was a tragic time, and Ketsuya was a great woman, but if you carry her death on your back for much longer you’ll never be able to move on.”

  Nerris glanced at the ground to his left, where his katana rested in its scabbard. Noruken, Sword of the Shooting Star, the blade forged by Kenjo Minoku a thousand years past. He had acquired it three years ago from Ketsuya Minoku as a gift to commemorate their betrothal. Funny how in such a short time he came to regard it as his sword, and barely thought of the Minokus upon looking at it. “Ketsuya was not a great woman,” he said. “She was the woman. Len-Ahl is sweet, yes, kind and beautiful, and in a different life I wouldn’t think twice. But I could never be with her, knowing I’ll never love her.”

  “I see,” Jhareth said. “You’re protecting her?”

  Nerris nodded. “It would destroy her, whether she knew it or not. Not at once perhaps, but over time, and I won’t do that to her.”

  Jhareth shook his head. “Sooner or later you’ll have to put yourself out there again. Ketsuya would want that.”

  “Oh, you two are going to lecture me on love?” Nerris asked. “How many women have you bothered to really know, Jhareth? And Dist, remember your disastrous courtship of Fayla?” The look on Dist’s face plainly said he didn’t want to talk about Fayla, so Nerris dropped it and turned away from them. “Stay out of my love life, both of you. We have more important things to do.”

  Jhareth and Dist knew him well enough to know that particular conversation was over, and they gave him his space. They made small talk for an hour before Len-Ahl returned to the tent, dripping wet.

  “I think I found the place we are looking for,” she said, excited.

  “What happened?” Jhareth asked.

  “I asked around,” Len-Ahl said, “and I was right. A week ago, soldiers from the south swept through and conscripted all the men for the Aeterna’s army. Then the Cult came through and sacrificed the elderly.” She shuddered. “The women and children remain, and they are feeling vulnerable. I was able to cozy up to them and they told me various stories, mostly village folklore and local superstition. But they said there is a cave about a mile north of the village that has an odd history.”

  “What kind of history?” Dist asked.

  “Strange noises in the night, men going in and never coming back out, that kind of thing,” Len-Ahl said. “It got to the point where the villagers collapsed the entrance about twenty years ago, and all has been quiet since. They tried to warn me away, but I insisted they give me directions.”

  Jhareth thought that over. “It sounds like a decent lead. Nice work, Len-Ahl. You would make a good Thrillseeker.”

  Len-Ahl beamed and turned to Dist. “We will need to clear the cave mouth somehow. I have been thinking of those fireworks you used in the Gosseen Mountains. Do you have anything stronger than that, perhaps?”

  Dist smiled. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  “Great,” Nerris said a bit shortly. “We’ll leave when the rain stops.”

  “Is something wrong?” Len-Ahl asked.

  Nerris glanced at Dist and Jhareth and knew at once they weren’t about to tell Len-Ahl anything about Miagama, or why he could not be with her. He would do it himself when the time was right. “It’s nothing.”

  The rain let up a few hours later, and they made time for a bite of breakfast before breaking camp and riding to the northwest. Len-Ahl led the way atop her mare, and they snaked through trees and crossed a stream. Soon enough they climbed a hill to behold a rock face on the side of a steep slope. The mountain in front of them was quite tall and would have obscured the sun had it been evening.

  Though twenty years had given rise to patches of moss and great vines, it was easy enough to spot where the people of Kesev collapsed the cave entrance. While the rock face was uniform, a close-knit mass of boulders and rocks marked where they would need to go.

  “We’ll want to tie the horses down the hill a ways,” Dist said, pointing back in the direction they had come from. “Just to be safe.”

  They did as he said, and Dist pulled several small casks from his satchel. He went to a sack hanging from their pack horse and filled the casks with a dark-colored substance.

  “Where did you get all that ignition powder?” Nerris asked. “You were traveling fairly light back in Haladast.”

  “I keep some things stored in Orrigo,” Dist said. “Lord Feigh looks after them for me. I figured we might need some power on this trip.”

  “Why Orrigo?”

  Dist shrugged. “It’s too cumbersome to carry all of my tools on the road. I figured if I ever went on another treasure hunt, Orrigo is the best starting point in northern Tormalia.” Once the casks were filled, he brought out a hammer and pounded the lids on tight. He threaded a wick through small holes in the center and carried them down the hill.

  He spent some time arranging them at the old cave mouth, putting one on top of the boulders and moving it down a few feet upon thinking on it. Using a small shovel from his pack, he dug out two holes near the base of the rocks. He placed the remaining casks within. Nerris and the others watched from atop the hill, and Dist waved up at them after lighting a torch.

  “Get down behind that felled tree,” he called, “and put your hands over your ears. This is going to be loud!”

  They trudged back over the crest of the hill, where a large tree had been knocked over during a storm. Its overhanging limbs provided some shelter from any debris. They crouched down and sat against the rough bark, putting their hands over their ears and ducking their heads. Dist joined them a few moments later, out of breath from running up the steep hill.

  After a brief wait, three detonations sounded, one after the other. The ground vibrated and Nerris’s ears rang despite his best efforts. He heard Len-Ahl cry out in shock as rocks and dirt rained all around them. Several boulders fell out of the sky, crashing close to where the horses were tied. The poor animals were scared out of their wits, and strained to free their reins from the tree trunks. A rock the size of a man’s fist struck Jhareth on the elbow, and he made several threats on Dist’s life as a result.

  It took a few more moments, but the debris finally stopped falling. Dist extricated himself from their hiding place and looked over the hill before giving them the nod. Nerris joined his friend to see what damage had been done.

  The cave mouth was not only wide open, but much of the rock face was gone as well. Even through the thick dust, Nerris couldn’t believe the gaping hole Dist’s explosives had left.

  “Blue winds,” Len-Ahl said breathlessly as she stopped beside him.

  Jhareth grabbed some more torches and they went down the hill to take a closer look. Dist stood a few feet away from the opening, surveying the broken stones. “I may have miscalculated. Three casks of ignition powder was a bit much.”

  “You think?” Jhareth asked as he stood under the mouth of the cave, looking around at the wide berth.

  “I could put it back the way it was, if you want,” Dist said. “Get me a ladder and I could find a way to stick my casks to the inside of the ceiling—”

  “That’s all right, Dist,” Nerris said. “Let’s wait until after we get what we came for.”

  “Be mindful,” Len-Ahl said. “This cave was most likely forged by one of the kings of the elements. We must proceed with caution.”

  “Which means there could be traps,” Jhareth said. “I’ll lead the way.”

  Dist lit a torch for himself and handed another to Jhareth. They entered the cave and found themselves in a narrow tunnel. Jhareth stayed in front and Nerris and Len-Ahl followed him, with Dist bringing up the rear. However, their torches proved to be of little use. The tunnel curved unexpectedly and they notic
ed a faint, peculiar glow ahead. As they rounded the bend, Jhareth stopped short.

  The stone walls of the tunnel were lined with sconces, each with a burning torch housed within.

  “Clystam’s mercy,” Dist muttered as he stared at the lit path. “This cave has been collapsed for twenty years. How could these torches still be burning?”

  “Everlasting fire,” Len-Ahl said. “This is the work of Jinn and the salamanders. These will burn as long as he wills it.”

  Jhareth continued to lead them down the tunnel, which snaked deeper and deeper. Sometimes he would motion for them to stop and check for traps, feeling the wall with his hands, rifling through every nook and crevice. He also threw rocks ahead of them to test the cave’s stability.

  He found nothing to cause concern and they continued on their way, their path lit courtesy of the King of Fire. Down in the dark it was difficult to tell how much time passed, but the tunnel finally emptied into a wide room. A stench pervaded their nostrils as they entered, a musty and acrid odor.

  Jhareth sniffed. “What is that?”

  “Sulfur,” Dist said. “I definitely recognize it. It’s one of the ingredients in ignition powder.”

  The chamber was rounded, and the ceiling stood about thirty feet off the ground. Braziers were set up at intervals along the room’s outer rim, each burning with Jinn’s eternal fire and giving them more than enough light to see every inch of the open space. A dais rested at the chamber’s far end, with two more braziers burning on either side of it.

  On the dais, a dusty statue looked down on them. The figure was male, his arms folded across his chest. A loincloth covered his lower body, and his hair had been carved wavy and distended, like the flames of a campfire. He may have had a man’s shape, but there was a quality more than human about him.

  “Is that Jinn?” Nerris asked Len-Ahl.

  She nodded. “Look upon his chest.”

  Nerris did as she said. Above his folded arms, something shiny was embedded in his chest. It was a medallion the size of Nerris’s palm, round and golden in color.