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

by D. W. Hawkins

  Dormael made a disgusted noise. “Smells like a grave.”

  D’Jenn nodded, but his attention was lost in the constant hum of magic. The ether sizzled with power, and the sensation increased with each step. D’Jenn closed his eyes and let his Kai guide his steps. It drew him toward the source with a steady pull.

  It’s like approaching a roaring fire. How much power is contained here?

  Eight bodies littered the floor of the next chamber.

  The corpses had long ago rotted to bones and dust. Implements of traveling gear were scattered beside them—an old leather bag, a hand-pick, and other debris. D’Jenn found marks on some of the bones, and there was more than one cracked skull amongst the pile.

  The room was rounded, like the one above, and opened into another circular tunnel on the opposite side. A third entrance was set between the wall and the floor, with steps leading down at a sharp angle. The third tunnel was warded like the ones above, using the same Lesmiran form.

  “These were killed by weapons.” D’Jenn nudged one of the bodies with the toe of his boot.

  Allen came over to stand beside him. “Had to have been the same people who put those spells in the wall. They killed these folk, then spelled the doors behind them.”

  D’Jenn nodded.

  Dormael barked a short laugh, drawing everyone’s gaze. He was crouched beside a large stone tablet leaning against the wall. He brushed it with the sleeve of his shirt and smiled.

  “Listen to this.” Dormael cleared his throat and affected a dramatic tone. “The contents of the room beyond are the shared property of Lorian Dovich and Hamarin Erling, claimed by right of discovery in the spring of year 1083. Any attempt to remove or study said contents are illegal under Lesmiran law and morally bankrupt in the sight of gods and men.”

  “Right of discovery?” Shawna looked at D’Jenn.

  Allen snickered. “Morally bankrupt in the sight of gods and men. I’m stealing that.”

  “Hamarin Erling?” D’Jenn shared a knowing look with Dormael. “I’ll bet the gods’ own purse change Hamarin Erling styled himself ‘the Wanderer.’”

  Dormael nodded. “I thought missing an entire underground city was a bit suspicious.”

  “If Hamarin was an adventurer, he kept the adventure of his life out of his book.” Allen kicked at one of the implements near the corpses. “He’d have been famous for discovering this place. Whatever he wanted to hide, it must be something big.”

  Shawna eyed the bodies. “I hope it was worth all the killing.”

  “We’re about to find out.” D’Jenn moved for the stairs in the hole. “No one touches anything.”

  The stairs were smooth and cut with a gentle curve. A light flashed from the chamber below in a cold, steady rhythm. The ether vibrated with power. D’Jenn passed below the edge of the stone and into the room. He paused on the stairs.

  He had never seen anything so wondrous.

  The chamber was shaped like a globe. A single walkway led to the exact center of the room, where an elegant stone platform was raised over a pool of glimmering liquid metal. A pedestal stood on the finger of the platform, supporting an arrangement of several metal rings. The rings were inscribed with glowing lines of arcane script. The rings were spinning in slow circles, each revolving in opposing directions. At the center of the rings floated a glowing orb of stone.

  The stone was encased in thin tendrils of metal which formed a pattern of lines and circles. Beneath the metal, the orb was milky white, though it glowed a subtle tone of blue. Flashes of inner lightning could be seen through the milky surface of the rock, arcing between points in the metal pattern and a place somewhere in the center of the stone.

  “The source.” Bethany appeared beside D’Jenn like a shadow. “That’s got to be it.”

  D’Jenn nodded. “Sharp girl. Stay close to me.”

  Bethany took his hand as D’Jenn stepped forward. They walked up the smooth curve of the platform and looked over the edge. The liquid alloy moved in the pool below, dancing to a mysterious internal rhythm. It snaked up the circular walls from the edges of the pool, disappearing like creepers into the stone. In the light cast by the glowing heart of the spell, the metal sparkled with liquid, silvery reflections.

  Bethany glanced up and tugged at D’Jenn’s hand. “Look!”

  D’Jenn followed her gaze to the ceiling. The top of the globular room was dominated by a metal symbol. It glowed in shifting, colorful tones. The symbol was highly complex, and the shifting colors made it all the more difficult to memorize.

  What mind could dream such beauty?

  In his Kai, D’Jenn sensed a constant pressure in the room. The tension was focused on the stone floating in the center of the platform. The buzz of power in the ether blurred D’Jenn’s magical senses and made him feel lethargic. His attempts to focus on the structure of the spells were useless. All he could feel was the crackling tension in the air.

  Dormael stepped onto the platform. “All the bloody gods in the Void. No wonder Hamarin kept it to himself.”

  “Lorian Dovich must have been the wizard in his party.” D’Jenn gestured at the source stone. “As priceless as this is, only a wizard would understand its true value.”

  Allen strode onto the walkway, weapons jingling with every step. “But why just lay claim to it and walk away? Obviously they never made it back to recover it.”

  “I could venture a guess.” Shawna paused to stare over the pool as she stepped into the chamber. “It was hard enough getting out here once. It’s not a place you visit a second time.”

  “Which adds more weight to my question,” Allen said. “Why leave it here?”

  D’Jenn peered at the spells in the room. “Because removing the stone would be foolish.”

  “Why?”

  D’Jenn sighed and opened his mouth, but Dormael beat him to the explanation.

  “Most spells are constructed in such a way that taking away the source is dangerous.” Dormael gestured at the symbol on the ceiling. “There’s a lot of power directed at the stone. What do you think will happen if you just pull it out?”

  Bethany gave D’Jenn an inquisitive look. “Is it like when your magic is Splintered? The energy just goes everywhere?”

  D’Jenn smiled. “You have been listening.”

  “So if I walk up there and yank that rock out of the circle, something bad will happen?” Allen peered at the stone. “You’re sure about that?”

  “As certain as I can be.” D’Jenn turned away.

  “Wait—so, you’re not certain? What will happen?”

  D’Jenn gave Allen a flat look. “There’s no way to know.”

  “Is it worth the risk?” Allen smiled.

  D’Jenn took a deep, calming breath. “There’s enough power in this room to move water through the city, to move the air through the caves, and for a thousand unknown purposes. It’s interacting with the spell in ways I don’t understand—which means you certainly don’t—and pulling the source couldn’t result in anything other than catastrophe. If you’d like to pull it out, go right ahead. Give the rest of us a few hours to make it back to the surface. I don’t want to be standing here when all that magic boils over.”

  “I’ve heard enough.” Shawna turned and moved for the stairs. “I thought I was used to this, but I don’t want to be anywhere near this thing. Dormael, would you care to send a light with me? I don’t want to sit in the dark with those bones.”

  Dormael gave the room a regretful glance and sighed. “I’ll come and keep you company.”

  “Don’t let me pull you away.”

  “It’s fine.” Dormael tousled Bethany’s hair before following Shawna. “If I hear screaming, I’ll know my brother did something stupid.”

  Allen shot him a rude gesture and dodged a punch as Dormael walked down the ramp. D’Jenn glanced at Bethany and found her scowling at the retreating pair. He rolled his eyes.

  More emotional distractions—that’s what the girl needs.


  “We can’t just leave the stone here,” Allen said. “It’s too big, too valuable. Shawna had a point—it was hard enough getting here in the first place. We can’t just walk away.”

  D’Jenn gave Allen a flat look and stepped out of his way. “Go on, then. Reach in there and take it out. I’ll be standing right here.”

  “Just grab it?” Allen peered at the stone. “Just put my hand in there and—”

  “Snatch it.” D’Jenn smiled. “Best be quick.”

  “What do you think will happen?”

  D’Jenn gestured at the platform. “I've said all I care to say. You’re a big boy, cousin. You can be insane all on your own.”

  Allen scowled and narrowed his eyes at the source. He took a deep breath, reaching down to pull the glove from his right hand. He flexed his fingers as he stepped up the ramp.

  Allen stopped halfway. “Do you think I should wear the glove?”

  “Who can say?” D’Jenn shared a smile with Bethany.

  “Well, what happens when you touch magic with your bare hands? It can't be good.”

  D’Jenn took a few steps away from his cousin. “Only one way to find out, right?"

  Allen gave D’Jenn a look that promised revenge, which D’Jenn repaid with a smile. D’Jenn gestured for Allen to continue and crossed his arms to watch. Allen grimaced and looked again to the stone. He slipped his glove back on his hand and removed it again. He wiggled his bare fingers and took a deep breath.

  With a curse, Allen turned and strode back down the walkway, an angry look on his face. D’Jenn ignored the lewd gesture Allen made as he passed. He disappeared back up the stairs, muttering to himself about rubies in the wall.

  Bethany shared a laugh with D’Jenn when Allen was gone.

  “Do you really think it would destroy the whole city?” Bethany said.

  “You can hear it.” D’Jenn gestured to the stone. “You can feel the pressure in this room just as I can. What do you think would happen if the balance in the spell was disturbed?”

  “Nothing good.” Bethany stared at the source and sighed. “You're right. We have to leave it here.”

  “It’s good you see the wisdom of leaving it.” D’Jenn closed his eyes and let his Kai feel the energy in the room. “Magic is seductive. It’s hard to stand here listening to that stone. I want to rip it free and take its power for myself.”

  Bethany turned to him. “You feel that, too?”

  D’Jenn nodded. “Everyone feels that, girl. It’s worse for us because of the power we hold. How easy it would be to walk through the world using magic to get everything we want. Lust for power is the oldest desire there is, little one. You think you’re the only one who struggles with it?”

  Bethany shrugged and stared at the source. “It’s hard not to get caught in it, like when the Nar’doroc is singing. I can feel it in my whole body.”

  “Remember the last lesson?”

  Bethany’s gaze didn’t waver from the stone. “For everything, a price.”

  “Always keep that in mind.” D’Jenn glanced over his shoulder at the stairs. “While you think about that, go help your uncle pull those gems out of the wall.”

  Bethany smiled. “With magic?”

  “It will be good practice, he is right about that,” D’Jenn said. “There’s no sense in leaving them. Just use force, though—no heat.”

  Bethany glanced to the stairs and her expression darkened. “Shawna won’t like it.”

  “Then don’t mention it to her.” D’Jenn turned a piercing look on Bethany. “And if she finds out, say I told you to do it. What’s going on between you? Why do you flash her an evil eye every time her back is turned?”

  Bethany’s face reddened. “I don’t do that.”

  D’Jenn stared at the girl. “You can lie to me if you want, little one, but don’t lie to yourself.”

  Bethany grimaced and stared at the ground.

  “The more you bring turmoil into your mind, the more unfocused you will become.” D’Jenn crouched to Bethany’s level and pulled her chin up to look in her eyes. “Stop glaring at your toes. You’re the one who controls your anger, girl, not the other way around. Figure out the problem and fix it, or your mind will be a chaotic mess. You can’t afford that, Bethany. Do you understand why?”

  Bethany closed her eyes and nodded. “An unfocused mind yields unfocused magic.”

  “Alright, then.” D’Jenn rose and moved from her path. “Off with you.”

  Bethany fled down the ramp and up the stairs into the antechamber. D’Jenn watched the opening for a moment before turning back to the room. He walked up the ramp to the pedestal and closed his eyes. His Kai buzzed with the power in the stone.

  One day, when this is over, I’ll be back for you. The orb was valuable beyond measure, but not for the reasons Allen had assumed. There was much to be learned from it. Secrets beyond imagining. And power—don’t forget that. I should listen to my own lessons. For everything, a price.

  D’Jenn lost himself in the flows of magic. There was a rhythm to the fluctuations in power, like the breathing of a giant beast. Magic filled the room, pulled toward the stone, until it reached equilibrium with the containment spells. The excess was funneled into the pool and through the millions of metallic filaments reaching into the stone.

  D’Jenn listened until his friends were ready to leave. By the time he climbed the stairs back to the antechamber, he was feeling nauseous. Standing so close to the stone must have had an effect on his body. The feeling faded as they left the dome, though D’Jenn’s thoughts stayed with the orb.

  Even later, as they explored the rest of the city, D’Jenn could feel the stone humming at the center of the cavern. When they found an entire district full of reservoirs, fountains, and waterwheels, he could feel the magic behind the movement of the water. Everywhere in the city, the pulse from the stone could be heard.

  D’Jenn kept glancing in the direction of the dome. He lost himself to quiet thoughts as his friends discussed the sights. Perhaps, when this ordeal was done, he could return here with Lacelle and a team of Philosophers. On the other hand, it might prove more advantageous to keep the knowledge within a trusted circle.

  One thing is certain—I’ll be back here for that stone. If I have to run through a horde of Garthorin to get here, I will return.

  ***

  The darkness parted before Maarkov’s eyes.

  He tumbled from the back of Maaz’s beast, cursing as he met cold stone. Maarkov’s stomach heaved. He coughed and spat, clawing across the ground until he felt grass beneath his hands. As fresh air filled his lungs, Maarkov blinked and looked around.

  A beautiful, manicured courtyard greeted his eyes. There were rows of decorative flowers in wild colors, exotic plants Maarkov had never seen, and curved flagstones forming a walkway. Walls surrounded the courtyard, with torches burning at regular intervals. Someone screamed nearby—a young girl running toward a manor with walls of rose-colored plaster.

  The smell of saltwater filled Maarkov’s nose, and waves crashed against a shore somewhere in the night. The air was warm, balmy, and the sky was peppered with stars. Insects chirped and sang, filling the shadows with a chittering chorus.

  Maarkov turned as the beast shifted its bulk, making a scratching noise against the ground. It looked around the courtyard with its glowing yellow eyes, taking no notice of the screaming woman. The strega piled down from its shoulders and massed in a tight formation. Maaz sat astride the beast’s shoulders, smiling at the scene.

  A black, shiny fluid was slithering down the creature’s body to pool at its feet. The oily substance moved like a living thing, wriggling down the beast’s flanks instead of dripping from them. The fluid stretched in Maarkov’s wake, and was slithering from his clothing to retreat toward the pool.

  With a disgusted noise, Maarkov scrambled away.

  “Welcome to Wethrael, brother.” Maaz climbed from the beast with a spindly grace. He brushed some of the errant
fluid from his hand and walked in Maarkov’s direction. “I hope you enjoyed the ride.”

  In point of fact, I did not. Thanks for asking.

  From the moment that creature had plunged through the door of oily darkness, the trip had been a nightmare. The shadows had crawled into his eyes, through his nostrils and into his throat. They had filled his lungs and belly until he was drowning in darkness. The memory made Maarkov want to vomit.

  He almost did.

  “Wethrael?” Maarkov glanced at the courtyard. “How—”

  “Distance means nothing to one who can ride the darkness.” Maaz smiled. “With enough power, much can be accomplished.”

  “How long were we down there?” Maarkov glanced at the night sky. “Wethrael is on the other side of the world!”

  Maarkov had a terrible moment where he lost his sense of time, the unending thread of years upon which his long existence was dependent. It took an entire season to travel from Shundov to Orris, even with a fast ship and spare horses. Had the darkness taken him for so long?

  Those agonizing moments—were they days in the real world? Weeks?

  “Your perceptions did not deceive you,” Maaz said. “In the realms beneath our own, distance is flexible.”

  Maarkov checked his gear. What would’ve happened if something had fallen during the ride? Would it float for eternity in perpetual darkness? Would the same have happened to him?

  Don’t think of it. It’s over.

  “I don’t understand.” Maarkov looked again at the courtyard. “This…this is—”

  Maaz glared at him. “Calm yourself, Maarkov. My power grows. It has been growing since the beginning.”

  “What happened at the castle?” Maarkov stepped forward and met Maaz’s glare. “What is that blackness living in your eyes, brother? How did you do this?”

  Maaz sneered. “You wouldn’t understand. Are you prepared?”

  “Prepared for what?” Maarkov gripped his sword. “Why are we here? Tell me something for once, you bastard.”

  “I've discovered something.” Maaz gestured to the manor. “We are here to recover it.”