The Lord of Bats did not notice the furtive figures moving away down the slimy tunnel. He concluded his victory scream with a hearty laugh, simultaneously sinister and booming. Anusha supposed he reveled in the return of his autonomy.
With any luck, Neifion would draw local attention. Maybe a clutch of aboleths would descend upon the Lord of Bats, catching him before he readjusted to the return of his power, and that would be that.
Anusha reached the tunnel fork where Yeva waited.
Yeva eyed Japheth, then glanced back along the way they’d just come.
“Is he following us?” Anusha asked.
“I don’t see a Lord of Bats or anything else. The tunnel’s clear as far as I can see.”
“Good.” Anusha shifted Japheth’s bulk slightly on her shoulders. His weight was becoming easier to bear the longer she held him.
“Which way?” said Yeva. “Back toward the orrery, or into the egg tunnels?”
The larger obelisk-studded passage descended in wide loops to the orrery. That chamber hosted too many aboleths for comfort, some of which could see Anusha. Even those that couldn’t see her would certainly notice an unconscious human floating in midair.
The other passage narrowed precipitously before splitting into a snake’s nest of twisted, winding tunnels. Quivering masses of white jelly dotted the rock walls, each containing a handful of pale orbs the size of a human head. A few of the white blobs were much larger, easily twice the size of a man. The obelisks of the larger corridor continued into the smaller maze of tunnels, though only one tunnel seemed lit with candlelike purple flames.
Anusha made up her mind. “This way,” she murmured. She pushed up the slight grade leading into the egg tunnels. Though upward was closer to the Eldest, she hoped they could find a niche or some sort of aboleth version of a closet to shelter in prior to reaching the city’s apex. Japheth needed tending. If they could wake him, maybe he could deliver them from Xxiphu in one fell swoop.
The rotting, salty smell redoubled as they plunged into the sinuous maze. Anusha took the first tunnel whose obelisks didn’t burn with purplish radiance. The aboleth they’d seen earlier lighting the obelisks had gone a different route. Anusha hoped the branching tunnels without light contained no roused monsters.
The passage looped up and around in a wild curve. The regularity of its width suggested it wasn’t quite a natural tunnel, but the chaotic way it wound around argued the other way. It didn’t take long for the purple light to fail, leaving only the mucous green glow that seemed a feature of Xxiphu’s air.
Every so often another tunnel split off, spiraling away on a separate egg-smeared path. She wondered just how many eggs were stuffed into the reeking corridors.
Anusha tried to track their course by taking every left-branching corridor. Unfortunately, not all the passages diverged to the left or right—some dropped straight down, others led up, and several settled on some angle in between. Perhaps she should have asked Yeva to blaze a trail so they could retrace their steps? Maybe that was what the aboleth had been doing with its purple flames.
“Stop,” she called. She was second-guessing how many left branches they’d taken.
The warlock groaned.
“Is he awake?” Yeva said.
Anusha carefully slid Japheth to the floor. The man appeared to be waking from his deep slumber.
“Japheth? How are you?” Anusha said.
Blinking was about all he could manage, but at least he was conscious.
Seeing him so defenseless and confused made her throat ache in a way she was unprepared for. He was the reason she was trapped here. But now … she was the reason he was here too. He’d been looking for her. How he’d managed to find her—what struggles and obstacles he must have overcome to reach her side—she couldn’t even guess.
And there he lay. He’d succeeded. He was the worse for wear, true, but even now he was coming around. Japheth’s powers had proved equal to the task of finding her against all odds.
Real hope flushed her, and with it came a swell of affection. It was good to see him.
She placed a palm on his forehead and willed herself into visibility.
“Japheth, wake up,” murmured Anusha.
Her voice drew his attention. His eyes focused and found her.
They were bloodred.
Anusha pulled her hand away.
“Where am I?” he said.
“We’re safe, for the moment,” Anusha said. “Long enough for you to get your strength back, I hope.”
Japheth took a deep breath.
“Anusha,” he said. “Is it really you?”
“Yes, it’s me,” she replied. “My dream, anyhow. I hope you didn’t leave my sleeping body back in that iron carriage you arrived in.”
Japheth considered for a moment. He looked around, obviously trying to figure out where he was. The creases on the bridge of his nose deepened to canyons.
He tried to rise, and Anusha helped him to his feet.
He said, “No. I didn’t leave your body in the trek bell. Good thing, huh?”
She surprised herself by laughing.
It was a release. Her reticence evaporated and she flung herself into his arms. At least she tried to—his hands passed right through hers.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” she said. Being insubstantial was as much a curse as a blessing.
She concentrated, willing herself to solidity, then grasped his hands in hers. They were warm and strong.
“Gods, I’ve missed you,” he said, staring into her eyes. “We had so little time before …” The red pupils distracted her from the sentiment, but only a little.
“I’m still angry with you, you know,” said Anusha. She blushed. Actually, she felt the opposite of angry just then.
He nodded, then leaned slightly toward her, his hands tightening on hers. She bridged the remaining distance to kiss him.
Her concentration tattered. She grasped emptiness and kissed only air.
Intellectually, she knew she’d lost the mindfulness required to evoke a solid form. Emotionally, in that instant, losing the embrace still felt like a punch to the heart.
“There’s no time for this!” came a voice from behind them. “Reunions are wonderful things when safety is assured. But aboleths prowl these tunnels, and the Eldest wakes! Warlock, can you get us out of here?”
“Who said that?” said Japheth. He scanned the tunnel in both directions.
Anusha swallowed. Yeva’s interruption couldn’t have come at a worse time, but the woman spoke sense. “It’s Yeva,” she told the warlock. “She was trapped like I was.”
“She is invisible to me. She is a dream spirit like you?”
Anusha nodded. “Yes. We met where I broke free of a wall of captured dreams. I think my escape triggered her release too.”
“Captured dreams?” repeated Japheth. “More minds than just yours have been stolen by this city?”
Yeva broke in. “The Eldest lies in deathlike sleep, and his memories have settled out of mere conception over the eons. They coat the interior of Xxiphu like frozen dew. Those who draw too near without a body are snared like the rest of his memories.”
Japheth narrowed his eyes, obviously unable to see the speaker. But he nodded, as if remembering something he already knew.
“Look, there,” Yeva continued, pointing … a gesture Japheth also missed. Anusha followed Yeva’s finger to another patch of ice like those she had misidentified in the orrery chamber. Even Xxiphu’s nursery walls contained the cast-off recollections of the oldest aboleth.
The warlock continued to look around until he saw the ragged ice face on his own. His brow furrowed, but he didn’t approach it.
“Where exactly are we in Xxiphu? The last thing I remember is falling through my cloak when the Lord of Bats burst the trek bell …”
“We’re in the spawning chambers,” said Anusha, “safe for now from roving aboleths.”
The warlock sighed. He turned back to Anus
ha. His eyes were just as scarlet as when she’d first seen them. She didn’t remember his traveler’s dust lasting so long.
He said, “If I’d known what we risked when I first gave you the elixir, I—”
“Hush,” she murmured.
“We can make good our escape now. Though … your conveyance is destroyed, and I think your fiery-winged friend carrying it may be no more.”
“An angel of exploration. Summoned by Neifion to pierce the distance between us. Yes … Gethshemeth caught the angel.”
“Gethshemeth!” Anusha said. “The kraken is here?”
“Apparently so.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter, I hope. Free us and we can all escape this monstrous city.”
Japheth’s stained gaze was his only response.
Anusha said, “Are you well? Doesn’t your dust allow you to see the unseen? I’ve consciously rendered myself visible so you can see me. Yeva remains a dream figment. But why can’t you see her? Your eyes are as red as I’ve ever seen them.”
“I haven’t taken a grain in several hours. My eyes are red with the symptoms of too much dust taken too long.”
“But doesn’t your pact protect you?”
“My pact is shattered. My powers are gone. Soon enough, I’ll reach the end of the crimson road with no hope of return.”
“What? I don’t understand …”
“Behroun finally shattered my pact stone. All the extra strength I had from the Lord of Bats, as well as all the abilities granted by our pact, returned to him. I’ve got nothing left except for this cloak. My spells and rituals … they’re gone. And with them the protection the Lord of Bats granted me from my addiction to the dust.”
Anusha put a hand to her mouth. Japheth’s claims seemed like some cruel joke, not the truth.
Yeva said, “So … you can’t free us or yourself from Xxiphu, and you’re succumbing to some lethal drug. Is that right?”
“Yes,” replied Japheth. “But … I have some time before that happens.”
“There must be something you can do,” Anusha pleaded. “You swore a pact to the Lord of Bats for power. What about those other creatures you learned about in that old Candle-keep tome? Swear a pact to one of them!”
Japheth began to shake his head, then paused. His pose grew thoughtful, even as a minor tremor in his hands gave the lie to his exterior calm.
“What? Is that possible?” Anusha asked. She hated the desperate sound in her voice.
Anusha noticed a low hum growing louder. She realized she’d been hearing it for some time. Now it swelled, a thunderous noise like subterranean waters rushing just beneath their feet.
The ice sheet crusting the wall behind them cracked. Splinters of ice calved off but turned to glowing steam before they struck the floor. Several entombed dreams dropped free.
Two were filthy humanoids wearing uncured animal skins for clothing. They lay gasping on the tunnel floor, their eyes rolling in terror. Another creature slid down the wall near them, its shape at first hidden by a billow of steam. When the mist of the evaporating ice swirled away up the tunnel, the creature was revealed as a dark-skinned female elf with hair the color of bleached bone. Her lower body was like a huge spider. The woman—some sort of drow?—loosed a full-throated bellow of rage.
“What is it?” said Japheth, looking around in bewilderment. “I can’t see what made that sound.”
“Some sort of drow … thing!” said Anusha. “And two savages.”
Japheth’s cloak flared and enveloped her.
She found herself and Japheth standing several yards farther from the disintegrating ice. Seeing the rictus of hate on the drow’s face, she swallowed her protest. Instead, she raised her sword.
The two grimy humanoids tried to scramble away from the drow thing’s stamping spider legs, but an arachnid foot, tipped with an ebony spike, skewered one through the chest. He was pinned to the floor. His confused, forlorn cry faded with his life.
Japheth extended his arms as if trying to find a wall in the dark. His head swiveled as he tried to locate the source of the sounds.
“The drow monster killed a savage, and now it’s going after the other one,” whispered Anusha. “Let’s go this way—”
Then the drow and the remaining humanoid screamed. The sound conveyed horror that outstripped the earlier cry of the one the drow had stabbed. They screamed for their eternal souls.
Both melted into so much swirling steam, just as the ice that had entombed them had. The mist spun away up the tunnel as if being drawn by a mighty vortex.
Yeva’s eyes widened. She stumbled away from the swirling steam and stood so her shoulder touched Anusha’s. She was breathing heavily.
“Now what?” Japheth said.
“It’s over—the creatures were never real. They unraveled and were drawn away.”
They stood silently a moment, eyes riveted to the remaining ice that still looked solid. Anusha wondered how long it would remain so.
“The Eldest’s awakening continues, I think,” said Yeva. “Its memories and the dreams captured in them are being drawn back to it as its consciousness reassembles.”
“Bane’s bloody boots,” said Japheth. His arm had found its way around Anusha in a protective embrace. Anusha was surprised—she’d subconsciously willed her pauldrons solid enough to give Japheth’s arm purchase. It was only an illusion that he could offer physical security, but leaning into him, she realized it was an illusion she appreciated.
“That would be my fate, if not for Anusha,” Yeva said, pointing to where the released memories had screamed and dissipated. “And it may still be.”
A shiver vibrated through Japheth and into Anusha.
“Are you all right?” she asked, not knowing what else to say.
“At this very moment? Yes, I am,” he said.
“I can feel you shaking.”
He let his arm drop and said, “It’s a symptom of my withdrawal. Without my pact to hold it in check, the consequences of too much traveler’s dust are coming to a head.”
“How long until you succumb?” said Yeva.
“A few days, maybe a tenday …”
Anusha wondered which would happen first, Japheth falling to his addiction or she and Yeva to the Eldest’s unremitting wakening.
The thundering, echoing thrum of rushing water fell away to a whisper, still present only because they now recognized it. In the stillness, a different noise became audible—a sucking, sliding sound issuing from the passage below. All turned to see. The faintest glimmer of purple light reflected on the slick sides of a cluster of aboleth eggs down where the tunnel bowed out of sight.
“A lamplighter’s coming,” Yeva hissed.
A bluish aboleth rounded the corner, sliding forward on a thin layer of slime. It moved until it reached a stubby obelisk. It touched a tentacle-fin to the obelisk’s top, and another purple flame blossomed.
The creature slid around the protuberance and advanced toward them. Everyone took a step back.
Anusha had made herself visible so Japheth could see her, so she knew the creature could see her too. She called her sword and set it aglow with golden light. She raised it, imagining its blaze as bright as the sun.
The aboleth stopped dead in the tunnel. Its three eyes blinked in unsynchronized rhythm. Two eyes swiveled to fix on her, and one stared at Japheth.
Japheth spoke three syllables and thrust his hands forward. Except for the way his fingers shook like the gnarled digits of an old man, nothing happened.
The aboleth’s T-shaped mouth opened and it made noises like the sound boots make when walking through mud. Yeva stiffened on hearing the sloshing, sucking noises as if she understand their meaning.
Japheth dropped his hands and shook his head, confused and miserable. “I … I must find—”
The warlock’s foot caught a ridge in the floor and he fell over backward.
The monster rushed forward. Its tentacles lashed across the width of the corridor
. Its tri-slit mouth gaped wider, and the sucking sounds transformed into a high-pitched keening. The air around the charging monster churned with a fine mist of slime.
Anusha interposed herself between the creature and Japheth. Seizing every advantage, she let go her visibility to waking creatures. She recalled how she’d used her sword against the water-wrinkled hag back on Green Siren and against the black wyrm Scathrys on the kraken’s island.
Yeva lurched ahead of the advancing creature until she came even with Anusha. It was obvious the aboleth couldn’t see the woman. Anusha whispered, “Remember, it can’t hurt us with a merely physical attack.”
“The tentacles aren’t our concern. What worries me is whether we can kill it before its birthing scream quickens too many of these eggs!”
Then the monster was before them. The mucous haze surrounding it whispered around the women with no apparent effect. Anusha brought her dream sword down at an angle. The creature charged full into the intangible blade, forehead first, oblivious to the weapon’s presence.
A burst of blue flame limned the creature. Its high-pitched utterance paused briefly before resuming. One of the creature’s tentacles fell limp, and one of its eyes dulled and closed. But it kept moving toward Japheth.
Anusha instinctively stepped out of its path to its left, Yeva to its right.
As it swept past, Yeva glared at the monster, her eyes achieving a lethal focus. A barrage of rainbow colors swept across the aboleth. It shuddered and twisted as tears and cuts spontaneously appeared on its skin in a dozen places. Dark blood oozed forth to mix with the aboleth’s coat of slime.
The aboleth shuddered to a halt mere paces from where the warlock struggled to regain his feet. It began to flail the space around it with its still-functioning tentacles. The few times one swept through where either she or Yeva stood, the creature shuddered. Its keening continued unabated.
Anusha slashed and hewed at the slick bulk with abandon.
“Be quiet!” she yelled, and cut the beast again. Its maddening scream finally began to gutter.
City of Torment Page 16
