Laedron felt a jerk at his waist when the rope drew taut. He clawed at the brace to keep from falling. He lost his grip, but he heard the rope tighten around the support. The sudden stop jarred his extremities and, most of all, his back. Had he been anywhere else, he would have cried out, but dangling above innumerable enemies, he had to bite his lip and suffer silently. Covering his mouth, he clenched his other hand on the knot at his belly and prayed that he had tied it well.
Laedron saw Marac taking off the rope and shook his head, but he couldn’t risk speaking. No, damned fool. Don’t do it. It’s too dangerous. He wanted to say all of those things, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. In his state, he wouldn’t be able to control his pitch or volume.
Marac climbed around Valyrie, then sat on the beam. Laedron looked back over his shoulder, both to avoid seeing Marac fall if it happened and to find out if Brice was still on the end of the rope. Laedron breathed a sigh of relief. It held. He could see the fear in Brice’s eyes, but Brice hadn’t plunged to the bottom. He looked up when he heard a hiss. Marac was reaching toward him. He stretched his arm as far as it would go, and Marac took hold of his hand.
Once he got within range, Laedron grabbed the support. Valyrie helped him climb up while Marac took hold of the rope leading to Brice. The veins and muscles protruded from Marac’s arms, and despite the cool environs, sweat dripped like rain. Laedron scrambled to help, and by a handful of rope at a time, they hoisted Brice to them. When Brice came into reach, Laedron pulled him onto the beam.
“What happened?” Laedron whispered.
Brice rubbed his hands together. “It was slippery. I lost my grip.”
“Lost your grip?” Marac asked.
“The beams are soaking wet.”
“Sorry,” Laedron said. “That was my fault.”
“Everyone’s safe.” Marac waved his hand. “That’s all that matters. Let’s get moving.”
* * *
Nearing the end, Laedron looked back to see Tavin stepping out onto the beam. Is he mad? Tavin was walking fast. Has he done this before? Or is he merely skilled at keeping his balance?
Marac crouched, untied his rope, and unwrapped it from the brace. “I could live the rest of my life without tying another knot.”
Laedron smiled. “You can say that again.”
Marac climbed down the vertical post using whatever handholds he could find. Valyrie went next, and Laedron followed. Once Brice joined them, Laedron took a quick look around. Fortunately, they had ended up near an exit from the chamber and out of sight of the harvesters.
Marac gasped. “Lae-”
Turning, Laedron saw one of the harvesters approaching from inside the adjoining tunnel. He grabbed Marac and shot behind a boulder; Brice and Valyrie ducked in behind him. Seeming not to notice them, the creature crawled past and entered the crystal chamber.
Laedron let out a sigh of relief, then noticed the walls around him lighting up with red light. Looking over his shoulder, he saw another harvester with a hunk of crystal in its mandibles. It glowed crimson, as if it had located its prey. “We’ve been spotted.” He glanced at the rafters. Tavin was hiding behind a beam.
Laedron drew his scepter. A quake spell. Think quickly! Laedron waved the rod in a circle before him and chanted. Valyrie, pulled her bowstring taut and searched for a target, while Brice and Marac unsheathed their swords. If I summon a tremor, will it bring the place down on us like Tavin’s spell almost did? Will it draw the rest of them upon us? Should I-
Something whizzed past his ear. He turned and saw an arrow imbedded in the side of the harvester. The force enchantment cracked the crystal and severed the limbs on its right side. It dropped the shard it had been carrying and jerked like a wounded beast, obviously unable to lift itself from the ground.
Like a wave passing through the cavern, the red glow spread and encompassed the harvesters in small groups until the entire place seemed alerted to the threat.
“Hide, hide. The others may not have seen us,” Laedron said, returning to his place behind the boulders. Hearing a crackling noise, he peeked around the rock and saw a swirling energy on the far side of the cavern. He looked for Tavin. The sorcerer was aiming his wand in that direction. Genius. A distraction. By the Creator, let it work! With his free hand, Tavin gestured at the harvester Valyrie had shot.
“What does he want us to do?” Brice asked.
Sneaking to the edge of the boulder, Laedron looked at the crystal beast still writhing on the ground, as if frustrated by its inability to stand. “We’ll have to finish it off.”
Marac slinked to Laedron’s side. “And how do we do that?”
Laedron, searching for a solution, recalled what Tavin had said about the creatures. Kareth’s creations are built from crystal and the essence of the living. Then, he thought about the battle with Andolis and how he’d nearly lost his life to the Zyvdredi master and his spell. If they’re instilled with essence to exist, it can be pulled out.
He stepped out, his scepter in hand, despite Marac and Brice hissing at him to return. He closed his eyes, recited Andolis’s spell, and pointed the rod at the harvester. When the dark violet light appeared, he produced one of the black onyx gems that had been depleted from refilling his scepter and trapped the essence within it. The red light fading from its body, the creature slumped to the ground, depleted.
Holding the gem, Laedron gazed at the other harvesters. A few were not distracted by Tavin’s display. How many souls would it take to create so many of these things? To keep them working for decades on end?
Tavin crept backward along the girder, maintaining the spell until he had reached the end. Apparently unable to find any menaces, the harvesters’ red glows eventually faded, and their bodies resumed the green coloring. Before he reached the bottom, Tavin stopped, and Laedron heard the familiar chatter of crystal against stone.
Back to work, it would seem. Wait… Laedron looked over the top of the boulder and saw a pair of harvesters inspecting the one Valyrie had slain. For a moment, he wondered if the creatures had any ability to reason because they seemed to look at each other with suspicion. As if giving up on trying to figure out what happened, the harvesters used their thick crystal mandibles to dismantle their fallen comrade. They made a neat pile out of the parts, then returned to the chamber to continue working.
Amazing. Do they have any intelligence? Could something made entirely of crystal be capable of reasoning or of original thought? Or is it more a matter of simple instructions from the master?
Tavin dropped from the rafter and, without a word, led the way into the tunnel.
I can only speculate what awaits us farther down. An army of these things? Legions of Trappers? Given decades without pause or interruption, what sort of horrors could I create for any potential intruders?
14
Kareth’s Workshop
Approaching the opening at the end of the passage, Laedron detected a faint echo, which sounded like the clanking of metal. The others must have heard it, too, because they slowed and put their backs against the walls. Tavin, at the front, crouched near the entrance and peered inside the chamber past the tunnel.
Laedron crept up behind him. Two Trappers stood in metal stands. One was only partly constructed and the other nearly finished. A few harvesters walked between them and some piles of crystal, shaping the pieces, and fusing them to the Trappers’ bodies. Beyond the stands sat chunks of a shiny metal in heaping piles that Laedron thought could be silver or purified iron, and the whole place stank of stagnant water. This place is larger than the Vicariate Palace! Staring into the distance, Laedron reckoned that the cave might have been the single biggest room he had ever seen, and the smoothness of the walls indicated that it hadn’t been formed naturally.
What purpose has Kareth for making so many of these Trappers? A crystal mine, a workshop to build them in, and countless harvesters laboring, all to what end? He followed Tavin through the shadows. He could tell that the Uxidin was nervo
us by the sheen of sweat on the man’s face and neck, despite the coolness of the caverns. Why does the man who taught me how to defeat a Trapper seem so unsure of himself now? He could undoubtedly fell both of them with a single spell should they come to life and ambush us.
“Do you see any other passages?” Tavin whispered, stopping behind some shelves.
Laedron scanned the room. “There’s a path through the piles of metal. Perhaps there lies the way?”
“We have no choice, then. We’ll have to destroy the harvesters. You get the one on the right, and I’ll take care of the other. Do you know the prefix of silence?”
“Prefix of silence? No, I can’t say that I do.”
Tavin uttered a few magic words. “Add those before your chant to quiet the spell. Never add them to a spell which harnesses noises or voice, for it will negate your own magic.”
“Then, I shouldn’t use a blast of sound?”
“No, not this time. We can’t risk it this far in. Use something else.”
“Any suggestions?”
“A bolt of lightning, perhaps. That’s what I intend to use.”
Drawing his scepter, Laedron eyed the crab-like harvester, thinking of which spell to use and where to aim. Once Tavin had given the countdown on his fingers, they cast simultaneously. Bolts of lightning lashed out at the harvesters and split each in half. The only sounds Laedron heard were shattering glass and crystal hitting the ground.
“I thought you said it would be silent,” Laedron said.
“The spell was, young man, but things affected by spells will still follow the rules of reality. Crystal makes a sound when it breaks, but don’t worry. It should have been quiet enough not to alert the rest of the-”
Hearing a chain snap, Laedron turned, then froze in horror. One of the Trappers, the one mostly finished, had sprung to life. He tried to fight his feeling of dread, but he couldn’t put aside his memory of the scene in the forest, the wolf dying at the merciless hands of the Trapper, its soul sucked clean from its body.
Ducking behind some nearby shelves, Tavin said, “You must deal with it.”
Marac and Brice, swords in hand, loosened their stances and teetered on anxious feet. Valyrie drew the string of her bow taut, an arrow nocked and aimed at the monster.
“You’ll not help?” Laedron pointed his finger in Tavin’s direction. “When we need you the most?”
“I cannot. I cannot risk dying here.”
“Cannot? Get out here and fight!”
Tavin didn’t move, and Laedron decided he didn’t have time to argue further. The Trapper charged, its long legs somehow limber despite their crystalline construction. Marac rolled forward when the monster neared, barely passing beneath its massive arm, then struck its leg with his blade. The enchantment on his sword must have helped because the sword penetrated the leg, though not enough to sever it.
Valyrie released her arrow as the beast staggered, striking it in the shoulder. When the force spell erupted, the Trapper lost its balance. The creature slammed into Valyrie and sent her flying into the cavern wall.
Laedron lost focus on his spell. “Val!”
The Trapper rocked back and forth a few times before rising to its knees, and Laedron swore he heard a grumbling sound come from it, as if it indeed had some emotion or felt some measure of pain. “Don’t let that bastard get up again!” Laedron yelled to Marac and Brice.
Marac lunged at the Trapper, striking it with his sword and the blasting enchantment. When the smoke cleared, Brice and Marac stood over the Trapper’s body, the upper half of its torso whittled down to a nub, the remains of its head and arms almost indistinguishable from the other chunks of crystal littering the ground.
“So much for stealth,” Tavin said, emerging from his hiding spot. “Perhaps the racket didn’t carry far.”
“So much for stealth?” Laedron rushed over and grabbed the sorcerer by the shirt. “That’s all you can say?” He gave Tavin a hard shake, then ran to where Valyrie lay limp on the ground.
Tiptoeing to his side, Brice asked, “Is she okay?”
Laedron wanted to know the same thing and had some difficulty in determining her condition. He had to muster all of his restraint not to reach out and touch her. If I move her, I could worsen her injuries. What will happen if I do nothing, though? She could die here, and it would be without my telling her how much of a fool I was, without my telling her what she meant to me and how deep my love for her had become.I’ll bring her back if needed, consequences be damned. “Val!” Please answer me. Come back to me, please! “Val, can you hear me?” Damn it all. He put his hand under her head and pulled her close. A large bruise had formed on her forehead. “Val, please, if you can hear me, say something.”
Feeling the muscles in her neck tense, Laedron took her hand. “Val?”
She opened her eyes. “Lae…? My head.” Although her voice was raspy and speaking clearly caused her pain, Laedron’s heart soared with hope. Sitting up, she caressed the bump on her forehead.
Tavin shrugged. “This is all very touching, but we really should-”
Marac silenced him with a harsh glare. “This is the stuff that real lives are made of, Uxidin. Not books, not artifacts, and certainly not hunting villains hiding in the deep. The unending nature of your life has blinded you to the importance of things dear to us mortal sorts. I pity you.”
Brice elbowed him. “Never knew you were a romantic, Marac. Never figured you for the type.”
“Things grow on you, Thimble.”
Laedron kissed Valyrie. “What might you say about some peace and relaxation when we get out of this mess?”
“With you?”
His heart sank, fearful of what she might say next. “If you’d have me.”
“Does this mean you’re over yourself?”
Over myself? Was I the one who…? Enough. If I’ve learned anything about women, the most important observation is not to argue unnecessarily. “Yes.”
“Then, I would say that I wouldn’t have it any other way.” She smiled. “Now that that’s settled, how about getting on with our task?”
“Not before I help that head of yours.” He waved the scepter and chanted. The bruise faded. He lost himself in her eyes.
She shook his shoulder. “Lae? Should we go about finding this Kareth fellow and sending him to Syril?”
“Kareth… oh, yes.” Turning when he heard coughing, Laedron examined Tavin, wondering why he was hunched over. “Are you well?”
“I’ll be fine. A little weakness from the climb, I should think. Nothing to concern yourselves with.” Tavin gestured at the path between the metal piles. “Shall we?”
Laedron helped Valyrie to her feet, then followed Tavin and his friends behind the stand holding the half-built Trapper and into the maze of metal piles. Upon closer inspection of the scrap metal, Laedron wondered what it was and why it had been left discarded in such a way. “Have you ever seen anything like this before?”
“Could be anything,” Tavin replied without so much as a glance at it. “We may never know.”
“I’d like to know. It could be important.” Laedron snatched a piece from one of the lots. Eying it, he thought he’d seen such a metal before, but the name escaped him. “Take a look at this.”
Marac, Brice, and Valyrie crowded around the shiny chunk in Laedron’s palm.
Brice blurted, “Can it be?”
“What? You’ve seen this before?”
“We all have.”
Laedron shrugged. “I thought I had, but I can’t place it.”
“Looks like platinum.”
Marac’s eyes widened, and he grabbed a piece to examine it. “It can’t be. Get one of the coins out, Lae.”
Fishing through his pockets, Laedron located one of the platinum pieces that Jurgen had given them in Azura, then held the coin and the raw hunk against one another for comparison.
“Creator! He may be right.” Laedron dropped his hands to his sides when he stared
into the expanses of the chamber and realized they were surrounded by piles-tons upon tons-of the most precious metal in Bloodmyr, all of it heaped like refuse. “More wealth than all the nations in the world. Right here, beneath an old temple in the middle of a forest, lies the richest and most bountiful veins of platinum ever discovered.”
“Should we take some?” Brice asked, licking his lips, his fingers waggling with apparent avarice.
Laedron gazed at Tavin.
Tavin said, “If you’re looking to me for permission, it is not mine to give. These treasures were dug up by Kareth and his creations.”
“Then, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.” Brice picked up two handfuls at a time and dropped chunk after chunk into his pack.
“Not too much, Thimble.” Marac grabbed his wrist and took a piece of platinum from his hand. “You wouldn’t want to weigh yourself down. We may need you for the fight to come, and with a ton of that on your back, you’ll be of little use.”
Picking up about a pound of the stuff, Laedron glanced at Valyrie. A little wealth would help us when we return home. And a bit for the mages to rebuild the academy we so desperately need. “Take some for your father, Marac, and keep some for yourself. The rest we leave for Tavin’s people to help them rebuild what has long since been lost.”
“If I don’t make it out of this place with you, I appreciate your kindness, and I hope they put these resources to good use.” Tavin seemed to be sure that he wouldn’t emerge from the caverns alive.
“Certainly. Think nothing of it.” What else can I say? If he had something to tell me, he’s not the kind to hide it.
Tavin led them farther down the path, which was also lit by crystals similar to those Laedron had seen in the Uxidin shelter. The hall terminated at a stone desk surrounded by matching bookcases, and Laedron stopped when he was close enough to hear the scratching of a quill against parchment.
A man’s voice, a deep bellow, which Laedron thought could have come from Syril himself, called out, “Why do you disturb me? I told you not to worry me unless you found more. Have you found more?”
The Immortals of Myrdwyer amob-3 Page 15
