Scourge

by Gail Z. Martin

  “This way,” Polly said, tugging at Rigan’s sleeve to steer him toward the left.

  As they walked, they heard the sharp squeals and guttural barks the ghouls used to communicate. Aiden and Rigan exchanged a silent glance. If the ghouls are arguing among themselves, all the better for us. They shuttered their lanterns and turned to Polly.

  “Guard the lanterns and watch your back. Yell if you see any coming, and stay out of the way,” Rigan whispered.

  Polly glared at him. “I can take care of myself.”

  “I know you can. But not here and not now.” Rigan met Polly’s gaze and saw fire and steel.

  “All right,” she hissed. “But only because you need someone to watch your back.”

  Rigan and Aiden slipped along the wall, blue handfire lighting their way, closing in on the room where the ghouls had gathered. Eight ghouls clustered around the savaged remains of a rotting corpse. They jabbered among themselves, elbowing each other out of the way as they plucked gobs of flesh from the body, twisting off fingers and toes like choice morsels. One whiff told Rigan it was not a recent kill.

  Rigan eased a rucksack off one shoulder. He and Aiden carried a bag of the same kind of small clay pots that had proven so effective against the lida. Burning the ghouls was the easy part; getting out alive—with the manuscripts—was going to be more difficult.

  A movement to the side caught Rigan’s eye, and he felt as much as saw Aiden move into position beside him. I’m not happy with those odds. We’re not likely to get reinforcements, but the ghouls might.

  Rigan swore under his breath as the ghouls froze, turning toward the doorway. In the next moment, all eight of the creatures were moving toward them, fast.

  Rigan unsheathed one of his knives, a long, wicked blade, good for hunting and razor sharp. “What are you doing?” Aiden demanded. “You can’t get close enough with that. They’ll tear you apart.”

  “Maybe not.” Rigan balanced the flat of the blade on one finger and a touch sent it spinning. He pushed with his magic, and the blade whirled faster, airborne. It picked up speed as it scythed through the air, heading for the advancing ghouls.

  The silver blur sent black ichor flying as it sliced through a ghoul’s throat, cut another’s chest open and decapitated a third, finally sticking with a dull thud, embedded in the forehead of the tallest of the monsters. Three ghouls fell and did not get back up.

  “Better odds. Nice trick,” Aiden said, as he and Rigan fell back, weapons in hand. Undeterred, the remaining ghouls trampled the bodies of their comrades, their focus fixed only on the two men.

  “Let me.” Aiden thrust out his right hand, closed his eyes and jerked back his fist. The crunch of bone snapping filled the chamber, and two ghouls collapsed, legs shattered. Magic evened the odds, but they would weaken quickly relying only on their power. Aiden and Rigan surged forward. Rigan slashed down with his long knife, and the blade bit into the arm of the closest ghoul, taking the limb off at the elbow. Foul blackness poured from the wound, and the creature shrieked but kept on coming, as its companion tried unsuccessfully to get behind Aiden. A scuffling noise in the corridor outside caught Rigan’s attention briefly, but the ghouls came at him too fast for him to be distracted, and he could only hope that Polly could hold her own.

  Rigan brought his knife down with his full strength, two-handed, and cleaved one of the ghouls from shoulder to hip. The monster shuddered and fell to its knees, awash in stinking humours, then dropped backward to the floor and lay still.

  Aiden’s blade slashed across the throat of his nearest attacker, deep enough to sever its head. Skull and torso fell in separate directions with a dull thud, staining the stone floor black. Aiden and Rigan circled their opponent. A shared glance signaled the attack, and they lunged forward at the same instant, running their blades through the ghoul’s chest, skewering it.

  The ghoul’s body trembled violently, nearly ripping the sword from Aiden’s hand. Rigan gripped his weapon two-handed, forcing his blade deeper. With an ear-splitting scream, the ghoul went still.

  Rigan and Aiden froze, waiting. Rigan assessed the dismembered ghouls on the floor, relieved to see that none of them had risen again. He stepped back, pulling his sword free, as Aiden did the same. The ghoul fell to the ground.

  “Not exactly what I had in mind,” Rigan said, keeping his eyes on the dead ghouls. He kicked the bodies, sword ready to strike, but nothing happened. Just for good measure, he sent the heads of the nearest ghouls rolling, and Aiden walked among the other bodies, making sure each was stabbed through the heart and decapitated. Rigan retrieved the knife still stuck in the skull of one of the ghouls. He wiped it clean and returned it to its sheath, keeping the second knife in his hand.

  Polly. Rigan ran for the doorway. He nearly fell over the body of a dead ghoul. In the darkness, Polly’s outline was barely visible, except for the glint of her steel knife. Ichor the color of shadows dripped from the blade.

  “Got him.” Polly said in a flat tone, her eyes hard. Rigan wondered whether this dark strength was new, Polly’s way of dealing with the grief of Kell’s death and of losing everything Above, or whether experience had honed a hardness she’d always had. Maybe some of both.

  “Nice work,” Rigan said, as Aiden joined him. He caught the healer’s wordless glance between the body of the dead ghoul and the blade in Polly’s hand. Rigan wished he dared destroy the bodies with green vitriol, but the air was close in the ruins and he had no desire to smother them. He made do with salt and aconite from a container in his sack.

  After a moment, Rigan looked up. “I still want to look for that manuscript.”

  Aiden wiped his blade clean against the leg of the dead ghoul. “I’d be happier if we got out of here, the sooner the better.”

  “I’ve got to look. You can go help Corran—”

  “And leave you wandering around to find a few more ghouls in here?” Aiden shook his head. “No. I’m coming with you. Let’s go.”

  “Stay close,” Polly said, leading the way.

  Rigan and Aiden followed, alert for threats. The vaults beneath the north wing were still in passable condition considering the building’s long abandonment. Rigan and Polly carried lanterns, while Aiden held a torch, creating light sufficient to help them navigate the stairs and corridors, but not nearly enough to suit Rigan, who watched the shadows for attackers.

  “Why would the priests leave anything valuable behind?” Rigan asked, liking the expedition less the longer they remained in the building. “And if they did, why hasn’t anyone stolen it yet?”

  “I don’t think they intended to leave permanently,” Polly replied. “They abandoned the building in a rush, probably when the walls collapsed. The priests either scattered or died.”

  “So there was no one left to come back for it—or no one who knew if there was anything important,” Aiden filled in.

  “We don’t know that they didn’t take everything they could reach,” Polly added. “The shelves I could see looked bare. But if the rubble buried some of the shelves, and the priests were in a hurry, they might not have taken the time to dig out the rest, and looters might not have thought to look.”

  “Or, of course, we could find a whole lot of nothing,” Aiden pointed out.

  “We could,” Polly admitted. “But I’m betting that after the collapse, they probably couldn’t get down to the cellars. It’s been years since then—people have salvaged some of the cut stone for other uses. They weren’t trying to dig it out, but they’ve opened enough of a hole for us to get in. So if there were texts that got left behind, that people forgot about or they thought they were destroyed—”

  “They may still be here.”

  Aiden slowed as they came to the end of the hallway. “Looks like we’ll know one way or the other in a moment. We’ve arrived.”

  Rigan opened an old oak door, his torch aloft, and caught his breath, staring at walls covered nearly floor to ceiling with empty shelves. He sighed as he im
agined them filled with leather-bound manuscripts and yellowed scrolls. The damage from the collapse was clear in the cracks splitting the stone walls and the rubble from the ceiling. He could see where they’d covered over the holes in the ceiling, laying foundations for Above.

  Rubble appeared to have sealed off another section of the room, and Rigan hoped Polly was right about what lay beneath the wreckage.

  Aiden frowned, then turned to the empty shelves, running his hands over them.

  “Aiden?”

  “Give me a minute. In the witch’s house, the library had secret compartments, for texts that were potentially dangerous.”

  He paused, still feeling his way along the back of the shelves. A quiet click answered his efforts, and he smiled.

  “Oh, yes,” he murmured, reaching in and withdrawing a handful of papers and old scrolls. “If these were important enough to hide, they might be just what we need.”

  He and Rigan stuffed the books and parchments into their rucksacks. When they were finished, the healer looked at the tumble of rock that hid the rest of the room.

  “Let’s start digging,” Aiden said. “And try not to bring any more of the roof down on us.”

  The work went slowly. They proceeded carefully, worried about triggering more damage. After a candlemark, they cleared a hole through to the other side, but only large enough for Polly to fit through.

  “I don’t think we can make that any larger without having it collapse,” Rigan said, sitting back on his haunches.

  “Tell me what to look for, and I can bring it back for you,” Polly offered.

  Rigan frowned at her. “It’s not safe. We have no idea what’s in there.”

  She glared back. “Now you worry about that? Come on, we spent all this time digging. We’ve at least got to find out what’s in there.”

  “Rigan and I can’t fit through the hole,” Aiden said.

  “So… tell me what to look for,” Polly repeated. “I can read Common, but if it’s in an old language, I might need to hand things through for you to see.”

  Rigan handed her one of the lanterns. “Push this through first, and make sure it’s safe to go in.”

  Polly swallowed hard. “Right. Give me a bit.” She belly crawled through the small hole, pushing the lantern ahead of her, and vanished beyond the cave-in.

  “Polly?” Rigan called.

  “I’m fine,” she replied. “I was right—there’s an alcove here, and it’s still got old books. Maybe a couple of dozen.” They heard a muffled exclamation, then a curse, and some stomping.

  “Polly!”

  “Damn spiders. Look, I don’t want to poke around in here any longer than I have to, so I’m just going to hand stuff out and you can figure out what’s important.”

  “That will work,” Aiden replied. “Ready when you are.”

  Half a candlemark later, Polly slithered back through the hole. She was covered with dust and cobwebs, but she flashed Rigan and Aiden a triumphant grin.

  Aiden sat on the floor examining the parchments and books that Polly had retrieved. “Seeing what’s here makes me want to know what’s missing,” he said with a wistful tone. “Most of the books are histories. They were likely shelved together. We might be able to find some reference to past monster attacks. I won’t know until I’ve had time to study them. But…”

  “What?” Rigan pressed.

  “There are plenty of mentions of other libraries at monasteries outside the wall. I think we’ve got to figure out a way to get to them and see what resources might have been left behind.”

  “If Damian or the people he’s working for thought something would give away their secrets, they wouldn’t leave the evidence for someone to find,” Rigan said.

  “No—if they knew the books existed. With luck, they haven’t thought about the monasteries.”

  Rigan glanced at the lantern and realized it was beginning to sputter. “We’ve been gone too long. Corran’s going to be frantic— when he finds out I’m not dead, he’ll kill me for worrying him. We need to get back.”

  “Grab what you need, then,” Polly said. “I really want to get out of here too. Move your asses. We don’t have all day.”

  Rigan’s heart sank as he heard stumbling footsteps from the far end of the dark corridor. “Someone’s coming.”

  More ghouls headed toward them from the southern corridor.

  “Go!” Polly ordered. She took off, with Aiden and Rigan close behind her, heading back the way they came. The ghouls closed the distance with surprising speed, reaching the top of the stone steps just as Rigan and the others thundered their way toward the door to the outside.

  “Wait!” Rigan said as the ghouls started up the stairs.

  Aiden stopped a few feet inside the doorway and turned. “Are you crazy?”

  “They’ll kill again if we don’t stop them. And if we want to come back and search for more hidden books, we might as well fight them now as later.”

  “Bad odds, Rigan. Not a fight we can win.”

  “We can if we cheat.” Fire lanced from Rigan’s hand. Aiden gripped his shoulder, amplifying his power and grounding them both. A wall of flames rose, cutting off the ghouls from their prey. The blast of magic knocked the creatures back and the ghouls shrieked, angry at being denied fresh meat, flailing and scrabbling. The fire spread rapidly, charring their filthy bodies and corpse-pale skin. Then, to Rigan’s horror, the ghouls dragged themselves to their feet, staggering forward.

  “Shit! That’s not supposed to happen!” Aiden cried. He kept one hand firm on Rigan’s shoulder, and drew his sword with the other as the ghouls walked toward them, bodies aflame, arms outstretched, hands grasping.

  Rigan sent a blast of power that threw the ghouls back against the far wall with a bone-shattering crunch. Fire burned away the creatures’ clothing and hair, searing what remained soot-black. The ghouls dropped and lay still. Then, as Rigan stared in amazement, the monsters regained their feet and started toward them again.

  “I thought fire killed those things!” Polly yelped.

  “So did I.” Rigan’s voice was taut with concentration. Aiden glanced at him, and Rigan caught the unspoken warning. Rigan was pulling hard on the magic, draining both of them. They could not keep up the fight for long.

  “Got any more ideas? Because I don’t want to fight them all by ourselves.” Aiden glanced behind them, but Corran and the other hunters were nowhere in sight. This was supposed to be simple. By the time Corran and the others realize something’s wrong, we’re going to be up to our asses in ghouls.

  “Hacking them apart works, right?” Rigan licked his lips nervously as the ghouls lumbered closer.

  “It did the last time. But fire was supposed to kill them, too. And that obviously isn’t working now.”

  Rigan glanced at Polly, a desperate plan forming in his mind. “Is there more than one way in and out?”

  “Yeah,” Polly said. “The other way is harder, but we came in from the east side—”

  “That’s all I need to know.” Rigan licked his lips. The plan was reckless, maybe suicidal; but it was the best he had, and if they were going to get out alive, they needed a way out now. “Can you take us out the long way? Maybe through a corridor that wouldn’t hurt anything if it… wasn’t there anymore?”

  Polly and Aiden exchanged a glance. Aiden gave a curt nod, silently throwing his support behind Rigan. Polly rolled her eyes and muttered a vulgar curse. “Follow me, and spare me the details. But if you get me killed, I’m going to haunt your ass.”

  Rigan hung back as Polly took the lead, and Aiden stayed close, unwilling to let him take all the risk. Rigan used himself as bait, making sure the ghouls saw them head into the corridor, lagging behind enough to tempt the creatures with the promise of an easy kill.

  “You’re cutting it fine,” Aiden grumbled.

  “We’ve got one shot.” Rigan’s voice was low and hard, his concentration focused on the ghouls. Polly led them through a long h
allway, and Rigan stayed just out of reach of the ghouls, ensuring the monsters followed him, holding off until they were in sight of the night sky.

  “Get out of here!” Rigan growled, turning to face Polly and Aiden.

  “Together, or not at all.” Aiden’s jaw was set, and Polly looked furious and determined.

  Rigan thrust out his right hand, took a deep breath, remembering his training with earth magic, and yanked his closed fist back. The vaulted brick ceiling shuddered and gave way in a roar and a cloud of dust, collapsing in an avalanche of stone and brick. Rigan thrust out his torch like a lance, and a gust of power extended the flames, igniting the rubble.

  Burning figures struggled to rise from the pyre. Rigan raised his hand and the rest of the ceiling and supporting walls gave way with a crack like thunder.

  “Run!” he yelled, coughing on the dust. He tripped and nearly went sprawling, but Aiden’s hand closed around his wrist, hauling him forward, dragging him out of the passageway. Rigan stumbled down the steps behind Aiden, gasping for breath and choking. With a roar, the corridor behind them collapsed as they cleared the ruins and burst into the tunnels of Below.

  “That was too damn close,” Aiden panted, trying to catch his breath. “What were you thinking?”

  “I was thinking about grounding my power so I didn’t end up flat on my ass,” Rigan replied. He was covered with dust, sweat, and ghoul’s ichor. A trickle of blood ran from his hairline down one cheek from a gash on his temple. His hands trembled, but he did not appear to be on the verge of collapse.

  “What in the name of the Dark Ones did you do?” Corran, Trent, and Mir appeared on the edge of the wreckage, looking bloodied and worse for the wear. Relief flooded over Rigan, and he found himself unable to stop laughing with the sheer, blessed knowledge that they weren’t all dead.

  “Rigan?” Corran still sounded angry, but worry won out.

  “I’m all right,” Rigan said, finally regaining control. “The training’s paying off. And whatever Eshtamon did to me, it seems to keep me from frying myself with magic. Really, I’m all right.”