“I have,” said Mako.
“And is that what happened to … to you?” said Kalem, pointing to his face.
Mako sneered. “No, goldshitter. It is only that I prefer a very particular sort of lover and have just come from his company.”
Kalem blinked. Ebon frowned. “You said you were in no mood for jests. Nor am I. I left you word but have not heard from you.”
“I gave you a way to reach me when you had information of value,” said Mako, glaring at him. “That does not mean I come to heel at your call. I obey Halab’s orders, not yours.”
“What have you come for, then?” said Ebon. “What happened when you—”
Mako’s hand darted forwards like a snake, closing over Ebon’s mouth and lower jaw. “Be. Silent. That is what I have come here to tell you, but you have yammered on like starved puppies since the moment I sat.”
“Unhand him,” said Theren. A glow sprang into her eyes. “Or I could make you, if you wish.”
The bodyguard glared at her for a long moment, and Ebon’s pulse thundered in his ears. Then Mako’s fingers loosened, and his hand withdrew.
“I found Gregor, indeed,” said Mako, in a voice as calm as if nothing had happened. “In the bowels of the sewers, just where your lover said he would be. But Isra is there, too, and we …” He scowled. “With her strength added to Gregor’s, I need magic to vanquish her. Your magic.” He pointed at Theren.
“You need us?” said Theren, arching an eyebrow. “Have the High King declare a holiday, for the impossible has come to pass. Mako has asked for help.”
Mako slammed a fist down on the table, so hard that their cups, which were thankfully empty, overturned. “I lost two soldiers tonight,” he snarled. “The black-eyed sow killed them. So spare me your smug tone. You have the amulet, and can be useful, so useful I will make you.”
Theren looked around to ensure no one was close enough to overhear. “I have no wish to use the amulet openly,” she said. “We know the faculty are hunting for it. What if we are discovered?”
“We will not be,” said Mako. “I mean to set the constables and Mystics upon Yerrin, but not until we have done our business first. Until that happens, Yerrin wishes the presence of the King’s law even less than we do.”
Theren dropped her gaze to her fidgeting fingers. “Very well,” she said with a sigh. “Only let us be quick about it.”
Ebon nodded. “Very well. Mako, when can we move?”
“Not we,” said Mako. “Or at least, not you.”
That made them stop. “What do you mean?” said Ebon. “I am not staying behind.”
“You certainly are, you damned fool,” said Mako. “How many times must I tell you that my duty compels me to protect you?”
“I will not let my friends—or you—go into danger while I sit here in safety,” said Ebon firmly.
Theren shook her head. “I can look after myself well enough. You will be no great help in a fight, Ebon—forgive me, but it is true.”
“I know it, and I know, too, that you are most capable. I will not go because the two of you need me. I will go because it is my duty, or at least I call it so—and what else is duty, after all?”
“The same goes for me,” said Kalem. “And you cannot tell me to stay behind if you bring Ebon, for I might actually be able to help you. Meaning no offense, of course, Ebon.”
Ebon waved it off. “It is decided, then. When do we mean to move?”
Mako glared at him—but he must have seen the resolve in Ebon’s eyes, for after a moment he sighed. “You will obey my every order, no matter what,” he said. “If I tell you to run, you will run, even if you abandon me. If I tell you to hide, you will hide.”
“I swear it,” said Ebon. “When?”
“Now.”
At that they balked, even Ebon. “Now?” he said. “This moment?”
“Yes,” said Mako. “I have only just come from a fight with Yerrin soldiers. They will redress their defenses—they may even move their activities to some other dark hole now that we know where they are. If it is not tonight, it will be never. Are you ready?”
Ebon swallowed hard. “We are.”
“Very well,” said Mako, standing from the table. “Do not make me regret this. Let us go.”
MAKO LED THEM DOWN THE street and off to a side alley until they encountered a tall gutter where a large gap led into the sewers below. He dropped to the floor and slithered into the opening like a serpent. Ebon felt a moment’s trepidation, but Theren followed the bodyguard without pause, and after a moment he did the same. He dropped two paces to the floor and landed easily enough, and then he reached up beside Theren to help Kalem, for the boy’s legs did not reach nearly so far into the darkness as theirs.
Though they were beneath the streets, the fading light of day still did much to illuminate the way before them, for it came through the drain holes and bounced from the light grey stones that formed the walls. Thus they were able to make their way quickly to the west where Gregor had been spotted. Ebon was grateful that this part of the sewers had platforms running along the water. The last time he had gone beneath the streets, there had been no such walkway, and so he and Mako had slogged through the muck. Now he still had to smell it, but he did not have to feel it sinking into his boots.
“How do you know where you are going?” said Kalem.
Mako did not even glance at the boy. “The sewers form a vast and intricate labyrinth—that is how Yerrin could be so busy within them without my knowing it. They are even more vast than the streets of the city itself, for there are many levels built atop one another, and each level stretches as far as the island. But there are different areas, and any who spend much time down here learn to stay close to their own territory. We rule all the levels to the northeast. The Yerrins have claimed the second level to the west. And I know we are going west because of the compasses.”
He stopped at an intersection, and Ebon and his friends skidded to a halt behind him. He went to the right-hand passage and stood tall, placing one hand on the top of the tunnel. There Ebon saw an N had been drawn. He looked across the way and saw an S drawn over the opposite tunnel, and just above him was an E. The way they were going, a W had been scratched. They were dug shallow in the stone, but unmistakable all the same, if one knew to look for them.
“Clever,” said Theren, sounding impressed despite herself.
“That is one thing you should always keep in mind, children,” said Mako. “Scholars and those who write books often hide knowledge in pretty phrases and dust-covered parchment, for they wish to have it all to themselves and thus earn the worship of common folk. But those who build, and make, and do—they make knowledge as plain as they can and put it in plain sight, hoping to help others who come after. The artisans who built these sewers wanted them to be useful, not mysterious.”
“Yet they hold a mystery nonetheless and conceal many dark deeds besides,” said Ebon, thinking of Matami.
Mako shrugged, his wide smile growing cruel. “Well, they may have intended one thing for their creation—but they bequeathed it to us, and we have made of it what we wish. Enough philosophy for now. We are moving too slow.”
He stalked onwards, and they had to run to keep up with him. Mako did not relax his pace, no matter the distance they covered, and not even when he stopped them and led them down an iron ladder built into the wall. Theren seemed to have no difficulty matching his strides, but soon Ebon and Kalem began to flag, wheezing and huffing as they stumbled along in the now-dark passage.
“Hurry yourselves, goldshitters,” said Mako, growling. “Yerrin may have defeated me once, but they will not rest easy this night and have likely already sent for more guards. The longer we take to reach them, the harder the fight we will find waiting for us.”
“I am doing my best,” said Kalem, who was panting even more heavily than Ebon. “Only I am not used to such exertion.”
Theren and Mako snorted in unison and then gave each
other an uneasy look before pressing onwards.
It was not so long after that before Mako stopped in his tracks, holding up a hand for the rest of them to do the same. Ebon pressed himself against the wall, as did Kalem, but Theren stepped up beside Mako, body tense, eyes peering eagerly into the darkness.
“Silence your huffing and heaving,” Mako whispered. “I am trying to listen.”
“Do you want me to stop breathing entirely?” said Kalem between gasps.
Mako glared at him, and Kalem’s mouth snapped shut. He and Ebon did their best to still their heaving chests.
At long last Mako stepped forwards again, the tension vanishing from his posture. “It is one of mine. We need not fear—at least not yet.” He led them on, and in a moment a shadow detached itself from the wall and came towards them.
“The wagon has pressed on,” said a voice from the shadow. Ebon thought it sounded familiar for some reason. He peered closer. Beneath the hood was a woman, the same woman he had encountered on the streets who had saved him from Gregor. She glared at him with her one good eye for a long moment and then frowned at Mako.
“What is he doing here?”
“Do not worry about them,” growled Mako. “Only tell me where the wagon has gone.”
“West, the same way they were headed,” said the woman. “I think the witch left it at some point, but I did not wish to draw too close to make sure.”
“Of course not. Well done,” said Mako. “Now return to the surface. I will doubtless send you a message soon, and you must act quickly when I do.”
“I can stay,” she said fiercely. “Let me fight.” But suddenly her body gave a shudder, and she slumped against the wall. Ebon saw that one of her hands was pressed tight to her side, and he saw a dark liquid staining her fingers.
“No more battles for you tonight,” said Mako. “Do as I say, or I will give you a bruise to go with that scratch.”
“Then at least we would match,” she said, and grunted out a pained laugh. She held forth a hand, and she and Mako seized wrists before drawing each other close for a one-armed embrace. Before she could go, Ebon took a step forwards.
“Thank you,” he said. “For saving me. The other night, I mean.”
She glared at him. “A fool’s gratitude is of little worth.”
Then she stepped into the shadows and vanished.
“Who is she?” said Ebon. “Her name, I mean. I did not get to thank her before—or I did not think of it.”
“She is Talib,” said Mako, “and has been my pupil for many years. She has saved your skin more times than you know—certainly more than the one time you saw her doing it. Come. We are not far now.”
He crept forwards now. Ebon and Kalem no longer had to struggle to keep up. But while his footsteps were quiet as a shadow, and Theren, too, moved muffled and silent, Ebon’s and Kalem’s steps now seemed horribly loud, and Ebon winced every time his toes caught upon a crack in the stone with a scuffling noise. Mako glared back at him once or twice, and though he said nothing, Ebon’s face burned with embarrassment each time.
But then all such thoughts were banished, for ahead they saw the orange glow of a torch, and far off, Ebon could hear the creaking of wagon wheels, a sound as familiar to him as his own breath. Too, there were tramping boots, and they moved quickly, not at some easy walking pace. Whoever accompanied the wagon, they knew they were pursued and were making good time to escape. But not good enough, clearly, for the noise grew louder.
Soon they saw the wagon: it rolled along with a deep rumble, pulled by two Yerrin guards in green cloaks, holding spars that stuck out from the front of it. Three more guards accompanied the cart, walking behind and to either side of it. Two of these held torches, lighting the way forwards.
“Fools,” muttered Mako, after he had let them draw a bit ahead and out of sight. “Those torches may show them where they are going, but also serve to make the procession easy to see. And they will not spy us until we are almost upon them.”
“What is in that wagon?” said Kalem, eyes wide with fright. “Are they moving magestones?”
“No,” said Mako. “Only supplies to feed and care for the crew of a ship that will soon launch from their hidden dock. But upon that ship there are magestones, and Yerrin means to send them out across the nine lands. That is not our chief worry tonight, though. Tonight we hunt for Gregor, and mayhap Isra.”
“I am more worried about Isra than Gregor,” said Ebon.
“Yet you are not in command here, and should not even have come,” said Mako, glaring at him. “Therefore your worries are of no consequence.”
“Well, what do we mean to do now?” said Theren. “I did not see Gregor among the guards—unless the tales of his size and strength are only exaggeration. And Isra certainly was not there.”
“Yet we should stop that wagon all the same,” said Mako. “Anything to disrupt the family Yerrin and their criminal activities is a gift to the High King.”
Kalem nodded solemnly, clearly missing the joke; Ebon rolled his eyes at the thought of Mako risking life and limb to uphold the King’s law. But Mako was right in any case—to reach Gregor and Isra, they would have to get through the wagon guards. “What do you mean to do?”
Mako grinned at Theren. “Do you wish to show off that magic of yours, girl?”
Theren smiled in return.
In a few heartbeats Mako outlined the plan, and they ran forwards again in the darkness. When they came to the next corner, Ebon and Kalem stopped while Mako and Theren pressed on. They saw a flash of light as Theren’s eyes glowed, for she did not bother to hide it with the amulet, and then she burst around the corner beside Mako.
The cart flipped over, slamming to the stone floor upside-down, its contents spilling all over. The wheels flew off, each one striking a guard to either side. They fell with pained cries, their torches falling into the passing flow of water and waste. The guards floundered in the sudden darkness, reaching for blades at their waists—but too slow. Theren struck again, and invisible bands of force picked them up, slamming them into the wall. Their faces were pressed into the stone so that they could not see behind them.
“Boys,” growled Mako.
Ebon and Kalem ran forwards at once. The light in the tunnel increased as they reached for their magic, and then together they pressed their fingers to the stone. It flowed out and around the guards, wrapping about their wrists and ankles in bands so that they were held in place. In a moment it was done, and all three of the children released their hold on their magic. The tunnel was plunged into darkness again. They waited for their eyes to adjust to the small shafts of moonslight from above.
“We should destroy their goods,” said Mako. “But I would rather not throw them into the water, in case they are carried down to where our enemies await, and they are warned of our presence.”
“A moment,” said Ebon. He reached into the pocket of his cloak and produced Halab’s firestriker. Mako’s eyes lit upon it, and he gave Ebon a hard look.
“It was a gift from …” Ebon trailed off, looking at the guards on the wall. They could not see, but they could hear. “Well, from family.”
Many of the goods were wrapped in cloth, and he tore it up to put in piles at the wagon’s corners. With a few touches of the firestriker, the cloth lit, and soon flames licked up to spread along the wagon’s lengthy spars.
“That will do it,” said Mako.
“And what of them?” said Kalem, pointing to the soldiers pressed to the wall.
“Do what you will to us,” said one of the guards, speaking into the wall, for the stone bands still pressed her tight against it. “You will not find it so easy when you get to the end of the tunnel, wretches.”
Mako grinned. “Let her down.”
Ebon looked at him, aghast, but Mako only nodded. So Ebon went forwards and shifted stone again, releasing the bands that held her. The moment her boots touched the ground, she turned and reached for his throat. But Mako seized
an arm and snapped it against his wrist. Ebon heard the sick crunch of a breaking bone, and the woman cried out. Then Mako smashed an elbow into her nose, and she fell to the ground.
“Girl,” said Mako. “The amulet. Place her under your spell.”
“What? I did not agree to use mindwyrd,” said Theren.
“I would not ask you to make her kill herself,” said Mako. His voice was soothing, though his hands jerked as he restrained the Yerrin guard, who fought to rise. “I mean to keep magestones out of the hands of rogue wizards. Only that. I promise.”
Theren hesitated. But though her eyes did not glow, as she spoke again, her voice was rich with mindwyrd.
“Stop,” said Theren.
The Yerrin guard stopped squirming on the floor at once. “Yes,” she said, her tone dead and lifeless.
“You will not remember any of our faces,” said Theren. “After you have left the sewer, you will forget seeing us, or that you were attacked at all.”
“Yes,” said the guard.
Theren looked to Mako. “Now what?”
“Have her go to the Mystics,” said Mako, smiling. “Have her tell them where we are going and that they should go there in all haste, for they will find a hefty supply of magestones if they do.”
“But they will find us,” said Theren, taking a step back. “If they learn what I carry …”
“We will be quick, and will have vanished by the time they arrive. But they will be there to clean up the mess and deal a grievous blow to the family Yerrin.” Mako gave them all a look. “You, more than others, should object to more magestones finding their way into the nine lands. We can do a great deal to stop it, now, tonight.”
“Very well,” said Theren. She looked at the guard again. “You will find the first Mystic you can. You will tell them of these tunnels, and what paths to follow that will lead them to the rest of your kin. You will tell the Mystics that they will find magestones here, but only if they come into the sewers, now, at once.”
“Yes,” said the guard.
“Go, then.”
The Academy Journals Volume One_A Book of Underrealm Page 67
