The City Under the Mountain (The Seven Signs Book 4)

by D. W. Hawkins

  What is the blasted woman thinking?

  “I will not say I am joining your plans.” Allisondra looked Nalia in the eyes. “The Mala’kii do not enjoy games of lies. My people are warriors at heart. They value freedom, honesty, the long ride under the sky. I do not like the words you have brought me.” Allisondra paused to take a deep breath. “But I must consider them. You have been honest with me, though I have held power over you during our meeting. You have earned my respect.”

  Nalia nodded her head. “I’m honored to have it.”

  “I do not have the power to sign a treaty with your Empire on my own. I must call a Lundai—a meeting of the Sadiri. They will hear your words and decide what must be done.”

  Nalia felt sick. The woman has less power than I thought. Have I made a mistake?

  “Once the Sadiri make their decision, what then?”

  “My rule in war will be absolute should the Lundai choose to fight with the Empire,” Allisondra said. “You would have your ally—if I agree. I will leave the deception to you, Cold Woman. My concern is the future of my people.”

  “As is mine.” Nalia smiled, sensing Allisondra’s willingness to side with her. “I’m glad you’ve decided to hear me out.”

  Allisondra gave her a predatory grin. “I have not yet made my decision. I must yet be convinced that your deception is worth my loyalty. You must demonstrate this to me.”

  “I’m standing here, am I not? How do you think I came from the frozen north to sit in your tent today?”

  Allisondra nodded. “This is impressive, but not enough to convince me. If I am to bare my throat for you, to risk so much, you must do something for me.”

  “What?”

  “I will think on it.” Allisondra’s expression indicated she would entertain no more talk on the matter. “You will have your answer at the baruche.”

  “The baruche?”

  “A feast,” Allisondra clarified. “When two herds meet for peace talks, it is customary that they share a meal. My ildinum have prepared a camp not far from here. There is enough food for your men—not enough for the ones you have hidden to the west, but enough for the men you have here.”

  “My thanks,” Nalia said, noting the casual way Allisondra revealed her knowledge of the field. She wanted me to know that she knows, and hasn’t ordered the attack.

  “It is the way.” Allisondra turned from Nalia and moved to don her boots. “We will lead your men to the camp. We will share food and drink, and there, you will have your answer.”

  “Very well.” Nalia made to slip on her own footwear. “I look forward to it.”

  Allisondra faced her and offered her hand. “Until tonight, Nalia Arynthaal.”

  “Until tonight.” Nalia returned the handshake. Allisondra smiled at the gesture and gave Nalia a wink.

  With that, Allisondra turned and left the tent.

  Nalia found Jay waiting just outside, her scowl almost as dark as Yurian’s. The two of them fell in behind her without a word as she tromped down the hill, headed toward Lieutenant Hardin and the rest of the men. Nalia caught sight of the nine women—malahim, she reminded herself—who were part of the Maihdrim’s savage coterie. Balidonna smiled and waved to her, causing a few of the others to smile and shake their heads. From Korinella and the old crone, there were nothing but scowls for Nalia and her men. The malahim spoke amongst themselves as they disappeared around a nearby hill. A moment later, a single girl appeared on a horse and waited beside the crest of the hill while barely-clothed servants collapsed the tent and gathered the implements inside.

  Not servants. Slaves.

  The Maihdrim appeared atop a large horse, which had patterns painted over its flanks. The moon was just rising over the hills, highlighting the woman’s bone-white hair. Nalia watched as the Maihdrim gave her a final look, kicked her horse in a circle, then galloped down the hill in the opposite direction. Her malahim followed, thundering after her. Nalia had been wrong about the old crones amongst them—they all rode their own horses, despite needing help to stand. Allisondra’s hair streamed behind her like a ghostly battle flag.

  Nalia watched her go and turned to Yurian. “Form up the men. We follow the Mala’kii.”

  ***

  “Gods, how long has this been here?” Allen said.

  Dormael shook his head as his friends gaped at the ancient structure on the flat-topped mountain. The wind was lighter than it had been on the day Dormael first discovered this place. Dusk threatened as everyone walked the expansive yard, squinted at the runes, or examined the pillars encircling the summit. The climb had taken a full day, even with the discovery of an ancient road leading up the mountain. The flagstones had long ago cracked, shattered, or had been reclaimed by the ground beneath them, but the pathway had still been passable, if only just.

  The big surprise had been the stables they’d found near the summit of the hill. They were large enough to house a battalion of horses, complete with water troughs cut from the stone. There was more to this place than this small building atop the summit—Dormael was sure. Else, why have space for so many horses?

  “It’s been here a long damned time.” D’Jenn pressed his face against the rounded door of the building. “The language written on these stones is like nothing in the Conclave’s Archive. Nothing I’ve read, anyway.”

  “They’re the same symbols we found on that marker stone,” Dormael said.

  “Indeed.” D’Jenn raised his eyebrows. “Looks like we got to follow your road after all.”

  Dormael smiled.

  “I don’t want to go in there,” Bethany said. Everyone turned their eyes to her. “Don’t look at me like that. You remember what happened last time we went underground.”

  “Good point, little pig.” Allen gave her a wink. “I don’t want to go in there either.”

  “Staying out here is no better.” Shawna moved to stand next to Dormael and Bethany. “I’ve seen enough Garthorin for three lifetimes. Anything is better than another night listening to them howl at each other.”

  Allen snorted. “That’s a good point, too.”

  “Better than corpses and evil spirits.” Bethany’s eyes darkened. “Better than shadows.”

  D’Jenn turned to face everyone else. “There’s a valley on the north side of the mountain and no way to get down there from here. The wind is too strong for me to fly down and have a look around—I don’t trust my ability to navigate the winds up here.” D’Jenn looked to Dormael. “Unless you want to go down there and have a look on your own?”

  “I don’t want to spend another night alone in these woods.” Dormael felt ashamed to admit it. “If I get down there and something happens—”

  “Then we go inside, if just to spend the night,” D’Jenn said. “We’re here. We may as well have a look. If there’s nothing to be seen, we can find another way across this range tomorrow.”

  Bethany scowled at the circular stone door. “There’s something about this place. I don’t like it. I don’t like that stupid hum, and I don’t like being underground.”

  Dormael put a hand on her shoulder and drew her close. Bethany stared at the building, but returned his hug. He could feel the tension in her shoulders.

  “I’m sure there’s nothing down there but dust, little one,” Shawna said.

  Bethany gave Shawna a withering look, but didn’t say anything else.

  “What’s gotten into you, little girl?” Shawna crouched in front of her. “Are you alright?”

  Bethany looked away. “I’m just tired, and that hum is making my teeth itch.”

  “Let’s see what we can do about that.” D’Jenn gave Dormael and Bethany a pointed look. “I think I can open the door, but I’ll need your help.”

  Bethany perked up. “Both of us?”

  “It will be a good learning experience for you,” D’Jenn said. He gave Dormael a sideways glance. “Maybe you, too.”

  Dormael smiled. “Maybe you’ll learn what it feels like to be tosse
d off the mountain. We can all learn something.”

  D’Jenn chuckled and turned back to the door. Dormael and Bethany traded looks with Allen and Shawna before following D’Jenn to the entrance. The air was cold, and Dormael’s breath misted before his face. The fading light shadowed the runes on the door, highlighting the complicated nature of their structure. D’Jenn reached the center of the circular doorway and waited for Dormael and Bethany, one hand on the stone.

  “I think the hum is the result of some kind of magical interruption,” D’Jenn said. “It’s not doing much of anything. A mild suppression of our powers, maybe an interruption of our focus. If it was meant as a defensive measure, it’s a poor one.”

  Dormael glanced at the pillars ringing the summit. “If that’s all it does. It could be slowly cooking us from the inside.”

  “I wish he wouldn’t say things like that.” Allen shook his head.

  “I’m only pointing out—”

  “Dormael,” Shawna said. “Please.”

  Dormael let out a breath and shrugged his shoulders, turning his attention back to D’Jenn. Bethany shared a look with Allen before the two of them burst into a fit of chuckles. Dormael glanced down at the youngling and saw her flash something to Allen in the Hunter’s Tongue.

  Did she just say something about queen bugs, or bug queens?

  Dormael nudged Bethany’s shoulder. “What?”

  Bethany only giggled harder. Dormael looked to Shawna, who was staring at Allen with suspicion on her face. D’Jenn cleared his throat, bringing everyone back to the matter at hand.

  “Summon your magic,” D’Jenn said. “We need to link. I’ll take control.”

  Dormael took Bethany’s hand and they walked to the door together, opening their Kais as they went. Surrendering to a link was always a strange feeling for Dormael. It was like letting someone slide into your skull and giving them use of your arms. In terms of technique, being the subordinate wizard in a link was simple. Giving up control of his magic had always been uncomfortable for Dormael, even with someone he trusted.

  D’Jenn opened his own power and gathered everyone’s song to his own, intertwining their melodies until a harmonious murmur was vibrating the ether, counteracting the oppressive humming noise. Gesturing for Bethany to come forward, D’Jenn moved to the side of the door and indicated that she should place her hand on the stone. With an excited smile on her face, Bethany dragged Dormael to the door with her.

  “I want you listen to what I’m doing,” D’Jenn said. “I’ll be doing the work, but I want you to understand.”

  Bethany nodded. “Alright.”

  “So far you’ve been exposed mostly to evocation,” D’Jenn continued. “Fast, quick magic—like summoning fire, or grabbing something with your Kai. Most spells, though, are of the second kind. They’re constructed along a logical path of known magical interactions. This is called assemblage.”

  Dormael winked at Bethany. “Some people just call it shaping.”

  “Others think that’s lazy.” D’Jenn shot Dormael a sideways grin. “If you want to build a lasting spell—something that works without draining your power or concentration—then you need to learn the basics of assemblage.”

  “I don’t,” Allen called from behind them. “All I need is to get inside and out of this wind. Can we speed the lesson a bit?”

  D’Jenn rolled his eyes. “Every cohesive spell works from basic principles. First you need to construct the workings of the spell itself, the mechanism by which your magic will interact with the world.”

  Bethany gave D’Jenn a confused glance.

  “The part that does something,” Dormael said.

  D’Jenn sighed and nodded. “The second part of any spell is the power source. Think of it like a substitute for your Kai. Without a source of magical power, even a well-constructed spell is just a series of symbols and materials that won’t do much but sit there.”

  “Sometimes you can imbue substances themselves with power,” Dormael said. “The spell needs to be simple, though, and it won’t last long.”

  “Don’t confuse her,” D’Jenn said. “Let’s stick to the basics first.”

  Dormael snickered. “Of course. Go on, expound upon the intricacies of assemblage.”

  “A power source,” D’Jenn said, giving Dormael an irritated glance, “can only be made from certain things. They’re usually gems, like quartz or emerald. Rubies work well. Diamonds, too. The strength of the source depends on the quality of the material used to make it, though its shape also has an effect. The majority of power sources I’ve seen are spherical in shape. Something about a sphere holds magic better than other shapes, even if they’re made from the same material.”

  Bethany looked at the door. “What’s the strongest?”

  “No material is simply the strongest,” D’Jenn said. “There are many factors in that equation. For now, I just want you to be able to identify a power source, not to build one. If you can look at any given spell and figure out which parts are which, that’s the first step to determining how they work.”

  Bethany smiled. “Alright.”

  “Close your eyes and reach through the door with your Kai,” D’Jenn said. “Listen with your senses and try to find the source for the spell holding the door shut.”

  Bethany gave Dormael a smile before closing her eyes. Dormael reached into the door with his own power and followed along. He knew the basics of shaping, of course, but wanted to listen for the moment Bethany figured it out.

  The mechanism inside the door was complicated. Dormael could sense veins of a strange metallic alloy—something close to silver—embedded in the stone of the portal. They coincided with the runes carved on the door’s exterior, but were not identical. The pattern was complimentary, but its structure was too complex for Dormael to follow.

  They’re meant to work together.

  “Have you found the source?” D’Jenn’s voice brought Dormael’s attention back to the physical world.

  “I think so.” Bethany’s voice was confused. “I’m not sure, though.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s small. Flat, like a coin. It’s not a sphere.”

  Dormael and D’Jenn shared a glance.

  “What makes you think that’s the source?” D’Jenn said.

  Bethany took a moment before replying. “Because the rest of it pulls at my magic like it wants to do something. Not this, though, and it’s got a lot of complicated symbols around it. That has to be it. Right?”

  D’Jenn watched Bethany’s expression. “Think about it. Be sure of your answer.”

  “I am.” Bethany opened her eyes. “That’s the source.”

  D’Jenn smiled and shared a knowing look with Dormael. “Good answer. Now—when the source is filled with power, the spell will once again become functional, given that there are no flaws in the active portion. Most spells work on basic triggers—reactions to different stimuli.”

  Bethany regarded D’Jenn with confusion.

  “Say this one is designed to open the door when you put your hand on it,” Dormael said. “When you touch the spell, you’re stimulating it. It reacts.”

  “I think I understand,” she said. “So what do we do?”

  “Listen.” D’Jenn gestured to the door. “Listen and learn.”

  D’Jenn first touched the source with their combined power, testing its initial reaction. The source material—whatever it was—retained some of the magic, though the rest seeped back to the ether. When nothing terrible happened, D’Jenn redoubled his efforts and filled the source with magic power.

  The effect was immediate.

  A hushed tone rang from the spell, growing stronger as D’Jenn continued. There was a discordant note buried somewhere in the spell’s melody, though Dormael couldn’t pinpoint the flaw in its structure. The ether vibrated against Dormael’s senses.

  D’Jenn placed his hand in the center of the circular doorway, touching his fingers to points where the glyphs cro
ssed one another. Dormael raised his eyebrows at his cousin—he hadn’t noticed that part of the design. D’Jenn had always been more adept at this sort of thing than he was.

  D’Jenn touched the runes and crimson light bled from his fingers, filling the carvings like water filling a trough. It happened fast, the light rushing through twists and turns until the entire face of the door was covered with a complex, glowing symbol. D’Jenn turned a smile on Dormael.

  “Gods,” Allen said. “Whenever I think I’ve seen it all, something like this happens.”

  “I’m still unsure how to open it.” D’Jenn kept his hand on the door. He examined the rune with narrowed eyes, peering over its surface in search of…something. Dormael had no idea what.

  “Something about the design looks off,” Shawna said. “It looks…I don’t know.”

  D’Jenn glanced over his shoulder at her. “What?”

  “I’m no wizard.” Shawna sighed, giving them a dismissive gesture. “You three figure it out.”

  Dormael smiled. “You don’t need to be a wizard to have insight. Tell us what you see.”

  Allen make a puking noise behind his hand, bringing another round of giggles from Bethany. Dormael gave them both another suspicious look. Allen and Bethany ignored it.

  What is so gods-damned funny?

  Shawna let out a short, frustrated breath and took a few steps away from the door. She stood for a moment, turning her head sideways in both directions, peering at different parts of the symbol. After a few moments, she pointed at the upper left of the door.

  “There—that part of the symbol appears again in the lower section.” She pointed at the lower left of the doorway before gesturing at the other side. “And then those two sections—the ones with the two curving lines? They repeat in the same fashion. It’s almost as if…well, I’m not sure.”

  D’Jenn looked at where she’d pointed. “Almost as if what?”

  “Like it’s two symbols stacked atop each other,” Shawna said. “From back here, you can see it clearly. It’s a trick of perspective.”