“We’ll watch your back,” Niklas assured him. “My men will hold the pass.”
Penhallow nodded. “Mine as well. We won’t be able to go with you, because we don’t know what shelter is available from the daylight. But we will secure the entrance.”
Nidhud grimaced. “Obviously if the Knights could navigate the Guardian path, there must be some provision for talishte, but since we aren’t privy to all of the path’s secrets, my men and I will remain where we can be of most assistance – to assure that you aren’t attacked from the rear.”
“The last impression I had from Voss tells me that he is quite close,” Penhallow said. “He’s been burning out Pollard’s safe houses and hiding places, cutting his supply lines. That should mean that any force Pollard and Reese bring against us will be at less than their best.”
“So it will be me, Piran, Dawe, Verran, Kestel, Illarion, Borya, Desya, and Zaryae, going in on foot,” Blaine summarized.
“And me.” They turned to look at Connor. “I’ve got to go. Quintrel planted his clues in my head for a reason. I’m the cipher. I’m also your link to the Wraith Lord, and anything he knows that could be of help. I’m coming.”
“Count me in,” Lowrey said. “I’ll be more use to you if we really do find Quintrel and his mages than I’ll be out here with the soldiers.”
“You won’t be able to take your horses once we reach the foot of the mountains,” Niklas said. “Our talishte scouts have checked the first part of the path and said it’s too steep. I’ve got my men making packs for all of you with essentials: food, wineskins, rope, tools, and knives, as well as flint and steel and batting for torches, some candles, and lanterns. You’ll be as prepared as possible.”
Blaine looked around the group, meeting each person’s gaze in turn. Every one of those gathered reflected clear resolve. They’re ready to walk into the shadowland for me, he thought. The realization both humbled and frightened him. We might not make it back. The ritual might not work. I could fail. They know – and they’re ready to go anyway.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
“W
e’ve been walking since dawn,” Piran muttered. “And so far, nothing but rocks. You’ve got the map, Kestel. Are you sure we’re going the right direction?”
The group paused as Kestel removed a map from beneath her cloak, one that bore all of the combined symbols. The four original maps were safe in an oilskin pouch beneath her cloak.
The day had dawned gray and overcast, clouds heavy with snow. An icy wind snapped down through the mountain passes, and as they left the relative shelter of the tree line and headed up the rocky slopes along a narrow trail, only the memory of Edgeland’s bitter cold kept Blaine from complaining.
“We’ll travel a good distance into the mountains,” Kestel indicated, lowering the map so Piran and Blaine could see. The others hung back, having already gone over the map before setting out. “We’ve got a few more candlemarks, I wager, until the first symbol.”
“That’s the first Guardian?” Verran asked nervously.
Kestel frowned. “Not sure. It might just be where the trail changes direction. We’ll have to see when we get there.”
Each of them carried a pack filled with the food, wineskins, and supplies, as well as bundles of wood, necessary since fire-making materials would prove scarce in the bare stone valleys. Blaine, Piran, Desya, and Illarion carried coils of rope. Borya and Connor each had a selection of picks, spikes, and other tools necessary for climbing or caving. Lowrey carried Quintrel’s journals and his own notes, as well as the maps that did not fit in Kestel’s pack. Verran carried his thief’s tools, including a few new items Dawe had made at Glenreith’s forge. All of them were well armed, mindful that wild animals as well as gryps might await them.
Dawe, Illarion, and the acrobat twins each carried one of Dawe’s modified crossbows along with their own longbows. Each of them wore at least one sword, and several of them had additional blades. Kestel wore a bandolier of small knives. Zaryae brought with her the cards and crystals that she used for divination. Kestel and Zaryae also had bandages, powders, elixirs, candles, lanterns, flint, steel, and kindling. Two large oilskins were their only protection against the snow.
Blaine carried all twelve of the disks in a leather pouch beneath his cloak, as safe a place as could be devised. Along with the disks was a piece of parchment marked with a code Blaine could not decipher. Nidhud had given it to him as a safe passage token should they find the exiled Knights and need to prove that Blaine and his companions had the support of the Knights’ brethren. Whether or not it would mean anything to the talishte among the Knights, Blaine knew that he and Connor carried the indelible mark of Penhallow’s protection, and for Connor, the touch of the Wraith Lord.
“I haven’t heard anyone say what this hidden city is like once we get there,” Piran said as they moved on.
“From all accounts, it’s likely to be a ruin,” Blaine replied, watching his footing on the rocky trail.
“Valshoa has an interesting history,” Lowrey said, puffing along behind them. Despite the cold day, he was already red in the face and a slight sheen of sweat dotted his forehead. “Since that’s where we’re headed, perhaps you’d care to hear…”
Lowrey regaled them for some time about the legendary exploits of the Valshoans and the extraordinary accomplishments of their city, which had, according to him, melded magic and technology in ways never seen before or since. Blaine was not sure that anyone was fully listening, but it kept Lowrey amused.
By midday they reached the first symbol on Kestel’s map. The trail appeared to dead-end in a sheer rock face at the end of a canyon. Dawe, Boyra, and Desya had their bows out, keeping a wary eye on the ledges and sky overhead, alert for danger.
“Now what?” Illarion asked, scanning the rock walls around them.
Connor had been unusually silent all morning. Zaryae laid a hand on his arm. “Something’s troubling you.”
Connor nodded, and Blaine saw conflict in his eyes. A flush crept into his cheeks. “Quintrel left us a clue,” he said, before a change came over his face and his eyes grew glassy.
“Over there.” Connor pointed to the very back of the canyon, where a large rock jutted from the ground. “The path lies that way, then down. Light neither torch nor candle – they will destroy you. Take the guide stones to find the way.”
Connor grew quiet, and his eyes regained their focus. He shook his head to clear it. Then his expression reflected chagrin. “I really hate when the memories take over,” he said with a sigh. “If you didn’t think I was completely mad before, this trip should prove it.”
“What did he mean, go toward the rock then down?” Piran demanded. “It’s a sheer rock cliff!”
“Let’s go look,” Verran said, enthusiastic for the first time since they had set out. “This has all the markings of a good treasure hunt.” Verran led the way as the group filed through the narrow gap between the canyon walls.
Before long, he stood in front of a large chunk of stone that had fallen from one of the upper edges of the canyon. Sword at the ready in case a trap awaited, Verran licked his lips and the fingers of his right hand twitched expectantly.
“There’s an opening here,” he called to the others. “Definitely not something you’d see if you weren’t looking for it.”
Blaine and Kestel exchanged glances, then Blaine made his way toward where Verran stood. A dark hole barely wide enough for a man’s shoulders loomed near the base of the stone.
“No torches, huh?” Blaine mused. “There’s no telling whether it opens up into somewhere we can walk, or whether it’s a hole straight down.”
“I’ll go,” Desya said. “Borya can rig me a harness. We’ve both done rope work before. The two of us have the most experience climbing, and if there’s a drop, we know how to fall.”
“Quintrel was clear – no flame,” Blaine repeated.
“The real question is, what are guide stones?” Keste
l asked.
“No way to tell until I get in there,” Desya replied, with a tone that said he relished the challenge.
Dawe, Piran, and Illarion remained on watch as Desya and Borya constructed a rough harness. Verran poked at the entrance to the opening with his sword and confirmed that the ground extended some distance inside. “It’s not a sheer drop – at least, not right away,” he said cheerily.
Borya said something to his brother in a language Blaine did not understand, but from his expression, he assumed the comment was a warning. Desya nodded, then walked to the opening as Borya and Blaine readied themselves to brace the rope that extended from the harness.
Zaryae made a sign of warding and murmured something that sounded like a prayer. Desya dropped to his hands and knees, then ducked his head and carefully began to inch his way into the hole.
“The ground slopes down, and the tunnel gets higher,” Desya called back in a muffled voice.
“Any guide stones?” Borya called after him.
“No. Wait,” Desya called an instant later. “I think I see something.”
Blaine and Illarion carefully let out the rope as Desya shimmied farther down the passageway. The rope grew taut, then loosened as Desya moved back to be heard. “Glowing rocks. There are a lot of them not far inside the entrance.”
He paused. “I’m going to take some of the rocks and go on. There’s a path that winds through the cave chamber, and from what I can see, there are places where it drops off, so you couldn’t come through here in the dark. But something’s not right. There’s nothing alive in here that I can see. That’s strange. I think it might be the air.”
“Should we pull you out?” Illarion asked, worried.
“No. I think the trap was to find a way through the bad air without flame. When I get to the other side, I’ll get out of the harness and wrap it around some of the glowing stones. You can draw it back and use it for the next person.” He coughed. “I’ll leave a trail with the other guide rocks so you know the safest path to follow. Hurry. The air is very bad.”
“Send Blaine through next,” Illarion said. “That gives us another swordsman on the other side. Let Lowrey go through with him, in case the scholar needs assistance, then send Connor. Kestel and Zaryae can go next, and Dawe, Borya, and I will come last.”
When the harness and the guide rocks were pulled back to the entrance, Blaine shouldered into the ropes and hefted the rock with the brightest glow in one hand. Illarion and Borya fashioned a second harness for Lowrey from a smaller length of rope. “All right,” he said. “Let’s hope I have as good luck as Desya.”
Blaine dropped to his hands and knees and found he needed to duck even lower, since he was several inches taller than Desya. Illarion had used a smaller length of rope to secure their packs and the other supplies, so they would not lose them. It made for a tight fit. Crawling on his belly and forearms, Blaine made it through the narrow opening. The guide rock glowed brightly. Lowrey scrabbled through the cave’s mouth, muttering under his breath. Blaine moved forward carefully, mindful of the perils Desya had reported.
The floor of the cave was still solid as Blaine’s feet cleared the entrance. Once inside, he held up the guide rock, trying to get a sense of how much room he had to maneuver. Tentatively he rose to a crouch and extended his arm over his head. When he did not touch the cave’s ceiling, he breathed a sigh of relief.
Even with the guide rocks Desya left behind to light the path, Blaine could make out little about the cave. Careful not to move faster than the faint light of the phosphorescent stone in his hands, Blaine made small steps forward. From here he could see that a narrow causeway made a bridge between two steep drop-offs. The walkway was barely wide enough to cross.
“Move carefully,” Blaine warned Lowrey.
Blaine took a breath and felt his head swim. Suddenly shaky, he dropped to his knees to steady himself. Whatever had affected him was also causing problems for Lowrey, because the scholar wove unpredictably, trying to control his fall. He landed badly and tumbled sideways onto the brink of the sheer drop, which crumbled beneath him.
Blaine scrambled to find a handhold to keep himself from plunging into darkness after Lowrey. “Stop the rope!” he shouted, but his voice echoed eerily in the empty cavern.
No guide stones glowed from the sides of the pit. There was no way to tell how far Lowrey had fallen. He could hear Lowrey gasping for air and feared that the air in the pit might be even worse than in the larger cavern above.
Just when Blaine was certain that Lowrey would fall to his death before the rope handlers realized something was wrong, the rope jerked to a sudden stop. Then slowly, the rope began to drag Lowrey back up toward the cusp of the pit. Lack of air was making his head spin, but Blaine had the presence of mind to lie flat and extend an arm over the pit’s edge to help Lowrey haul himself over the brink.
“Got him!” Blaine shouted back to the others. “When you come, crawl across the narrow place.”
This time, Blaine did not try to walk across the narrow causeway. Both he and Lowrey crawled on all fours, moving as quickly as they dared, and Blaine feared that one of them would pass out before they reached the other side. The faint glow of the guide stones gave Blaine a focal point, and he forced himself to think of nothing except reaching the next marker.
It seemed to take forever, but gradually, the rim of the pit came into view, and he could glimpse light from the cavern’s exit. Lowrey was falling farther and farther behind so Blaine had to pull him forward with every movement. Blaine’s lungs burned, and his eyes swam with tears, irritated by whatever noxious gases filled the cave. Heaving and gasping, he dragged himself into the cold, fresh air. He hauled Lowrey out of the cave and rolled over onto his back, utterly spent.
“Bad in there, didn’t I tell you?” Desya said, helping Blaine sit up so he could unfasten the harness and loosen the rope that bound Blaine’s supplies to his body. As Blaine struggled to catch his breath, Desya helped Lowrey out of his harness, then bundled up the guide stone and gave a jerk on the rope to signal Illarion to pull it back to the entrance. After a few moments, Blaine found that he could breathe more easily, although his lungs and throat still burned, and his eyes felt red and irritated. Lowrey took longer to recover. He rolled to the side and retched, then sat up, trembling.
“What in Raka is in there?” Blaine managed, his voice hoarse.
Desya stood watch, his bow drawn. “Not sure, but I’ve heard tell that men who go into the deep places often don’t come out again.”
As Blaine’s head cleared, he took a sip from the wineskin Desya offered him. “When Piran and I were in the mines in Edgeland, there were shafts where the air would go so bad the men would die. Sometimes a candle or lantern would set off an explosion or cause a cave-in.”
Desya nodded. “Mines can disturb the foul air of the deep places, but I’ve heard tell that sometimes it comes up naturally in caves, even wells.” He nodded toward the cave mouth from which they had emerged. “Nasty Guardian, that one. If we hadn’t had Connor’s warning, we would have put a torch in there for a good look and probably blown ourselves to pieces.”
The dangerous elegance of the Guardian and the multiple levels of threat it posed gave Blaine new respect for Valshoa’s residents. “If the other three Guardians are like this one, we’d best be on our toes,” he said.
Connor was the next to crawl from the cave, and Blaine was not surprised when he emerged wobbly and pale. Desya kept watch, his arrow nocked and ready, while Blaine helped Connor from the harness and offered him a sip of wine.
“By all the gods!” Connor exclaimed when he could talk again. “I feel as if I’ve breathed fire. Have I mentioned how tired I am of being buried alive, dragged through crypts, tunnels, and caves, suffocated, and drowned?”
“This sort of thing happens to you a lot?” Blaine asked, raising an eyebrow.
Connor glowered and took another drink of wine. “More than you can imagine.”
> Kestel shimmied through the opening, followed shortly by Zaryae. When they had recovered, they took over helping each of the others as they emerged, while Connor and Blaine took up watch with Desya. Blaine was fearful that the cave exit would be the perfect place for snipers to take advantage of the vulnerability of their group as one by one, they stumbled, gasping, from the cave. Though he could see no one, he felt a prickle at the back of his neck, warning him they were not alone.
Kestel shook the dirt and cobwebs out of her hair, patted her bandolier to make sure all her knives were where they should be, and looked around with a grin. “What’s next?”
“I’m going to hate myself for suggesting this,” Connor said, “but since I’m the one with Quintrel’s helpful hints tucked away in my memory, I probably should go first.”
“I think that’s a good idea,” Blaine agreed. “But we’ll be right behind you.”
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