Curse Breaker: Sundered

by Melinda Kucsera

  “True that.” Iraine kicked a rock, and the wall vibrated like a plucked string. “That’s not a good sign.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  Nulthir scrubbed his hands over his face in a vain attempt to remove the exhaustion burning his eyes. He needed sleep; they all did, but sleep was a luxury they couldn’t afford right now.

  “Since the floor isn’t shaking, it’s definitely not an earthquake.” Iraine gestured for him to join her against the opposite wall.

  Though if the leftmost wall collapsed, they’d still be in the direct path of the debris it would kick up. But Nulthir backed up until his back thumped against the right-hand wall because there was no better option. Since this tunnel wasn’t very wide, he was only about eight feet from the rippling wall—definitely not far enough to avoid a concussion if it collapsed.

  “What’s taking them so long?” Iraine stared into the unrelieved darkness behind them. There was a blind curve about a hundred feet back, one of many down here.

  “I don’t know. Maybe they mutinied.”

  Or maybe the monster had broken through the rockfall and killed them. Nulthir listened hard but the echoes of running feet mixed with snatches of conversation weren’t encouraging. Why did I let them fall so far behind? Because he was tired, not thinking clearly and this whole command thing was still new enough that he’d forgotten he was supposed to call the shots, not scout for trouble.

  “If anyone other than you were leading them, then maybe I’d buy that. But not, you. They respect you.”

  “Do they? I’ve only had this job for a handful of months.”

  “Yes, they do because you care.”

  They fell silent and regarded the rippling wall. Its entire length seemed to be shaking, but that was just an optical illusion created by the shadows bracketing them. Only a narrow section of the wall was visible in his waning rune-light.

  It had been awhile since Thing One had reported in, so Nulthir called to him.

  “I come, friend Nulthir.”

  “No, stay back. There’s something happening here. Stay clear of it,” he sent back with no hope of his winged friend actually obeying that order. When Nulthir opened his eyes, echoes of footsteps mixed with the voices of his fellow Guards.

  “What kept you?”

  “Oh, you know. We just had to play dodge-the-rocks with some tentacles,” Anthanen said. Maybe he wouldn’t quit once this was over.

  “How much of a lead do we have on it?” Nulthir asked. How long before we're out of its reach?

  Everything had a limit. Those tentacles couldn’t extend forever. At some point, they would get clear of it then they could find food, rest, better weapons, and reinforcements so they could exterminate the monster. May that be sometime soon, please. Nulthir had no idea who he was asking that favor of because he no longer believed in anything anymore except his fellow Guards.

  “Not as much as I'd like.” Agalthar tightened his sword belt. It was riding lower on his hips than regulation allowed. “If I had to guess, I'd say a quarter of a mile maybe a hair more. When we left, it was tearing apart the walls and ceiling. I hope you aren't intending to go back that way because that section of tunnel might not exist for too much longer.”

  “All the more reason to move on.”

  Nulthir tightened his belt and tried to ignore the gnawing ache in his belly. What rations they’d brought with them had been consumed hours ago. “Going back solves nothing. Our only way is forward. Because that’s where the people are, and where we’re most needed.”

  There were nods all around as they set off again because saving people was what the guards did. And there was no sense in waiting for the monster to catch up to them when they could put some distance between them and it. The wall had ceased shaking. Maybe it had been the monster’s doing, and perhaps it would bury itself again.

  “If you're intending for us to make our last stand protecting the people of the Lower Quarters then there’s something you need to know,” Gare said as he fell into step with Nulthir, who waved for his friend to continue.

  “Those tentacles are tough on our blades.”

  “How so?”

  “Just what I said. There's more of them than there are of us. For every one we cut down, two more take its place. We’re just not making much of a dent in them.” Gare mopped his brow with a blood-stained cloth. Great, so even if a lucky rockfall buried the monster, it might not kill it. That wasn’t encouraging news.

  “He's right, and I swear those things are getting harder to hurt.” Yazi stepped behind Gare.

  Nulthir palmed his nightstick. There was something unsettling about the former Ranger. When Yazi just checked Gare over for injuries, Nulthir let his nightstick drop back into the belt loop that secured it to his body.

  “I'm fine, you big lug. You’re the one with the trick ankle.” Gare gave his lover a playful shove. Yazi grunted in reply.

  “Begging your pardon, Captain, but Yazi's right. I know it sounds crazy, but their skin is getting harder and more abrasive too,” Huwain said. He stood off to the side where he had a good view of their back trail.

  That was bad news indeed. If the monster can change its skin, what else can it change? The odds were already bad enough. Nulthir stared at the pebbles bouncing from outcropping to shallow ledge and wished he could find a way out of this predicament before the situation worsened any further.

  “How abrasive?”

  “As abrasive as the glasspaper my uncle uses to sand down sharp edges, and it's taking its toll. Look here.” Lurston ran his finger along a pitted and scarred section of his blade, and his finger came away without a single scratch.

  Unnerved by that report, Iraine surreptitiously checked her war ax. When her fingers came away unbloodied, she glared at her favorite weapon as if it had betrayed her. Nor was she the only one who checked her gear. Disappointed faces turned Nulthir's way, but he had nothing to offer them. Their situation was bad. Sugar-coating it wouldn't change it.

  Agalthar waved to get everyone's attention. “Let me see if I've got this straight. If we keep hacking away at the enemy, we’ll end up with dull blades.”

  Before he could go on, Iraine cut him off. “But if we don't hit them, then we're dead. You can still hurt something with a dull sword.”

  “Yes, but you can't cut with it.” Draya gave her sword a rueful glance then shrugged and sheathed it. “Iraine's right. We're Guards, not Knights.”

  “Exactly, we don't need fancy weapons to take out the bad guys, not when the whole friggin’ Lower Quarters is one giant obstacle course packed with stuff we can throw.” Iraine hefted a pumpkin-sized rock to make her point. “We have plenty of projectiles. I suggest we use them and save our blades for when it really matters.”

  I should have given that speech. Nulthir shifted his weight uncomfortably, and his feet complained. Iraine sought his gaze, but there was no consternation in her dark eyes, no judgement either even though he’d utterly failed to reassure his people. Why did they pick me to be the next Captain of the Guards? I'm not qualified.

  It didn't make any sense. There were other candidates who had more experience and deserved the post more than he did, but the powers that be had chosen Nulthir. Their decision was as baffling now as it was on the day he’d received the commission from Lord Morelan Nalshira, the son of the Lord of the Mountain, and de facto administrator of Mount Eredren in his father's absence.

  Iraine winked at him and dragged Nulthir back to the here and now. She had his back, and he had hers, and that unbreakable bond was the only thing that made sense right now.

  “Umm, Captain, walls aren't supposed to jiggle like that.” A wide-eyed Ishten jerked his thumb at the left-hand wall as he and two other grizzled veterans backed away from it.

  “The Shining One is this way. Hurry,” Thing One said, broadcasting for all to hear. The owl-winged creature flew past without the silence or grace of a real owl. His flightpath was a jagged line thanks to his not-quite-aerodynamic body
.

  “You keep saying that, and we keep not finding him,” Nulthir muttered. “I don't think he wants to be found.” That glimmer he’d seen had winked out some time ago, proving his point.

  Every so often, another light would flare up in the distance, but it never grew any nearer. Through it all, Thing One kept claiming they were actually closing in on this ‘Shining One.’ Since forward was their only option until they passed an intersection, there was no reason not to follow Thing One and this elusive ‘Shining One' until they found an exit or a miracle. He’d take either right now.

  So Nulthir prodded his tired body into a trot. That was the best he could manage as he eyed the wall, hoping it was just this section that had suddenly become unstable. Nor was he the only one who was exhausted by their ordeal. Iraine gave him a wan smile as she fell into step with him.

  “We should get out of this tunnel. I don't like the way that wall is undulating.”

  “If you see an intersection let me know. Because I haven't seen any.”

  “No, no turns, the Shining One is this way.” Thing One flew around them in an ungainly circle looking more and more confused with each circuit, then he veered to the left.

  “No, he’s that way,” Thing One said, but he didn't sound certain anymore. Thing One landed on an outcropping and butted his head against the shaking wall. He was still trying to get a fix on the Shining one’s location.

  “Get away from there before it falls down on your head.”

  Nulthir swiped at his little friend, but Thing One just hopped out of reach, and he was too tired and distrustful of that wall to chase after that daft creature.

  “But the Shining One—”

  “We can’t help him if we’re dead or concussed. Neither can you. Come away from there.”

  “Can you make it stop doing that?”

  “Doing what?” Nulthir turned to locate the speaker.

  “That mind-talking thing. Its disconcerting,” Lurston grumbled as he limped around yet another bend and gripped his head.

  That was a good question actually. Nulthir had gotten so used to hearing his friend’s thoughts in his head, it no longer struck him as odd. Though, Thing One had been with him since he was a small child, so that might be part of it.

  “But the Shining One—” Thing One was plaintive now, and his distress grated on them all.

  “Don’t listen to him, Captain. I, for one, am glad of an extra pair of eyes.” Iraine glared at Lurston.

  Lurston returned her glare, and there was a challenge in it—one Iraine accepted. She shifted her stance to mirror Lurston's, and the two squared off as pebbles cascaded down the shaking wall. But Lurston wasn't the only one unnerved by the mind-talking thing.

  Yazi and a few others moved to stand with Lurston. Their haggard faces were so covered in dirt and dust, they looked like three-dimensional ghosts. They didn’t even glance at the cracks spreading across the wall to their left until a loud boom startled them. They'd all been pushed too far, but this was far from over. I might not be able to get them all out alive, but I’m damn well going to try.

  “Everyone shut up and run. We need to get out of here before that wall collapses and takes part of the ceiling with it. Look for an entrance to another tunnel or barring that, some cover.” Nulthir gestured to the wall.

  Thing One flung himself at Nulthir and collided with his well-padded shoulder while still mumbling mind-to-mind about ‘the Shining One.’ Had Agalthar not seized his arm, Nulthir would have face-planted. He gave his friend a nod of thanks and trotted after his people. With Thing One clinging to his shoulder, he listed to the left as he ran, and pain stabbed him in the side.

  “Do you think it’s another monster?” Iraine asked.

  “What else would it be?”

  “True, we still haven't found the cause for all the magical weirdness yet. Any ideas about how it all fits together?”

  “None, you?”

  “I wouldn’t be asking if I had any. “Do you want me to carry him?”

  Thing One dug his claws into the special padding on his shoulder as Nulthir shook his head. Stones punched out and sailed toward them as something black and streaked with a sickly brown broke through the wall. One such rock struck Nulthir's arm, and Thing One launched himself into the air. The padding under Nulthir’s mail shirt took the brunt of the blow, but a dull ache radiated out of the spot, adding another bruise to his collection. Nulthir grimaced but kept moving.

  “What the hell is that?”

  Tentacles ripped apart a wall, and something white flickered beyond it. Maybe it was the Shining One, maybe it was a hallucination. Nulthir would put good money on the latter.

  “Is that—?” Gare started to ask, but Nulthir cut him off.

  “Get down!” He shoved Iraine behind a collapsed column as debris flew their way. She’d punch him for that later, but at least she’d be alive to rebuke him.

  “Hey Captain! These aren't as armored as the ones following us. These snaky things are still cut-able,” Draya said around a laugh that was almost manic in its glee.

  Nulthir poked his head out of cover in time to see that crazy woman lop off the tip of a slender, sucker-covered appendage. It was at least half as wide as the ones that were hopefully still somewhere behind them burying itself under more debris.

  “See boss? Some of them aren't invincible.” She tossed the piece she'd hacked off at Nulthir, and he caught it.

  It wasn’t like the tentacles they’d faced before. For one thing, this one wasn’t tubular. It was pyramidal, and it lacked the fat, leaf-shaped thing at the end. But it did have suckers. No hooks though, and that had to be a good thing. Those suckers ran the entire length of the slimy thing.

  “I don’t think that’s a tentacle. It's different than the things chasing us. Look how it flexes—like an arm. All it needs is a hand and fingers to complete the parody.” Nulthir cursed as the tip of the monster fell from his rapidly numbing hands. “Don’t touch it. There's a paralytic mucous covering it.”

  And a glistening globule of it dripped off the sucker-covered appendage shooting toward Iraine, but she had her back to it. Nulthir opened his mouth to shout a warning, but nothing came out. His tongue was thick and ungainly in his mouth, and it might be swelling. He pawed at his suddenly constricting throat as darkness hovered at the edges of his vision.

  Iraine stood stock-still, rooted to the spot. Her dark eyes bored into his willing him to be all right. As Nulthir dropped to his knees, the waning bluish glow of his dawn-rune reflected on her sais, and she rushed toward him. That globule landed on her armor and rolled down her back as she spun and windmilled her arms in a deadly double-strike.

  Where’s Nolo

  [Inside Mount Eredren]

  The shadow crossing the next intersection staggered like one of the Adversary’s thralls. Oh no, they’ve found us. Sarn’s stomach growled a complaint about that. The spicy scents emanating from the cart were making Sarn’s mouth water and reminding him it had been a long time since he’d had that All-Fruit courtesy of the Queen of All Trees. But there was no time now for a quick snack.

  That shambling shadow must be an advanced scout. Sarn had to grab his son and go if only the promise would let him. Instead, the promise propelled Sarn toward that man. There was something familiar about his clothes. They were green like the Rangers' uniforms. Sarn blinked in surprise as light shafted onto a face he knew well.

  “Nolo?” Sarn said without thinking, and the promise allowed it because it was moments from being fulfilled, and its grip was loosening. What were the odds the very person he needed to find was right here, right now? My luck’s never this good.

  The man started as if waking from a dream. As he turned toward Sarn, the promise receded, and so did the pain. It left so swiftly, Sarn wobbled, faint from sudden relief.

  “Sarn? Is that you? I was just looking for you.”

  Oh Fate, it really was Nolo, and he was headed this way. In a panic, Sarn stepped in front of his
son as his worst nightmare played out in the back of his mind.

  Thankfully, a dozen spear-toting male and female statues lined the wall, and their well-muscled bodies hid Ran from sight. But that situation wouldn’t last long.

  Sarn glanced at his son, who was rucking up the blanket draping the cart, so he could access its hidden goodies. Nolo was less than one hundred yards off and closing. He had only a moment to explain the danger and hide his son. Please, let that be enough.

  Sarn dropped to one knee and pretended to tie his laces. For once, they didn’t need retying, but he fiddled with them anyway and pitched his voice just loud enough for the child stuffing his face to hear. If Ran was even listening. His son tended to have a one-track mind when it came to food.

  “Ran, I need you to hide. But you must stay close to me, okay?”

  Because without his head map keeping track of the tyke, he’d have no way to find his son if they were separated.

  “I need to see you, but don’t let the approaching man see you, okay?”

  Sarn tapped his son on the shoulder when Ran didn’t answer then turned the snacking child to face him. Juice ran down his chin while Ran chewed and swallowed another bite of sausage.

  “Did you hear me?”

  Ran nodded. “I know what to do.”

  His son bit into the sausage again then patted him on the shoulder leaving a greasy hand print behind. Worse still, it was an obviously child-sized handprint.

  Sarn glanced over his shoulder. Nolo was fifty yards off and closing. Too close to risk any further conversation, so he gave his son a gentle push toward the narrow alcove behind those statues. Then his time was up. He hoped Ran would follow his instructions instead of the demands of his hunger. And somehow, he must keep Nolo from looking too closely at the cluster of statues hiding his son. Why is nothing ever easy?

  Rising, Sarn spotted a dinner roll with a bite taken out of it. He swayed and banged his shoulder into a sword-swinging statue. Pain radiated down his arm, but he stayed upright long enough to grab a roll, shove a sausage into it and chow down.