Last night had been perfect. Lamorun had taught Lakhoni, Alronna, and Hilana some of the grappling techniques he had learned as a soldier in Zyron’s army years before. Simra had even joined in and had proven adept at hooking her foot behind Lakhoni’s ankle and twisting just right to knock him down.
The fact that she usually fell with him and more than one kiss had been stolen had been the very best side benefit of the practice.
After Lamorun had finished, Lakhoni had sparred with everyone with his dagger, showing them the forms and flow of using a shorter blade. Despite his strength not being what it once was and having to move carefully due to the injuries from the lizards, once he had warmed up he had felt his speed returning. And speed was almost everything when it came to short blade combat.
The trail they had followed next to the river had widened over the countless miles they had walked and as they had gotten closer to the mountain range. Then it had disappeared, but they stuck next to the river. Except that last night, before the sun fell, the river had finally faded into a few smaller streams. It had been breaking into branches for the entire day as they walked, and they had stuck to the largest of the branches most of the day.
Then it was just gone and they were on their own. However, the mountains were unmistakable and none doubted where they were meant to go. Alronna had taken up the lead, but they walked abreast, their order shifting as conversation flowed.
Which was why they all slowed and nearly stopped as they rounded the far side of the hill they’d been going around. Lakhoni felt Simra, just to his right for now, go stiff with surprise and miss a step. He held tightly to her hand to make sure she didn’t fall, but he almost stumbled too.
“Well.” Alronna seemed to have reached her limit with that single word.
“There’s something you do not see every day,” Hilana breathed, her face slack with surprise.
Lakhoni didn’t bother trying to speak. He began walking again, the others staying with him. It was clear where they needed to go.
The massive city built into the side of the of the cliff face ahead was a good bet.
“I thought the connected houses were impressive,” Lakhoni said. A glittering ribbon falling from the overhanging cliff ridge above the city was a waterfall. It cascaded down in front of a portion of the city, landing with such force that clouds of mist rolled out, giving the city a ghostly appearance. As if it might fade if he blinked.
“They were,” Simra said. “I still don’t understand how they cut that stone away.”
“If that was impressive,” Alronna said, “this is impossible.” She gave a dry laugh. “Like everything else that’s happened.”
Thunder shook the ground and rolled over the companions. But this was a strange thunder—a single deep rumble that sounded as if a boulder had fallen from the heavens and slammed into the earth.
“What was that?” Simra squinted toward the city.
“The waterfall?” Alronna suggested.
Lakhoni shook his head. “No, it felt like it came from that direction.” He pointed off to their left, toward a hazy cleft in the earth and more dark stone cliffs that rose and fell between them and an oddly shaped mountain range.
“But what was it?” Simra asked again.
“I don’t know,” Lakhoni said. He ran his fingers down the soft leather of his dagger sheath, desire to investigate the noise warring with the pull drawing them to the magnificent city.
“Nobody is trying to kill us for the moment,” Alronna said. “Let’s keep going.”
They continued toward the city, something new and unbelievable catching Lakhoni’s eye at nearly each step. The tallest building loomed high above the rest of the city, wider than any tower he had ever seen. Other tall buildings dotted the city, and as they drew within a few hundred paces, it was clear that the city was bigger than it had appeared. The tallest building was at least ten men high. And there were walls circling different parts and levels of the city, with trees and what appeared to be gardens growing right out of the stone.
As they approached the incredible city, Lakhoni continually looked in all directions. Memories of being taken by surprise in the forest by the Zhimana were still fresh. The city grew larger with each stride and Lakhoni realized his initial estimate had been completely off. Buildings and levels to the city sprawled bigger and wider than he had understood.
Movement caught Lakhoni’s eye and he put out a hand to warn his companions. “Someone is coming.” He pointed to his right, where a group of people had appeared a few hundred paces away and were closing the distance quickly.
Lakhoni and his companions halted, closing tight ranks. He glanced toward Alronna, ready to warn her to keep her sword sheathed, but she had made no move to draw it. “Let’s try not to get in a fight or offend anyone here,” Lakhoni said.
“If they sacrifice people to non-existent gods, that’s going to offend me,” Alronna said.
“What if they do it for gods that do exist?” Hilana asked, needling Alronna.
“As long as it’s you they sacrifice,” Alronna said, “that’s fine by me.”
“Please just keep the peace,” Lakhoni said.
“Unless they attack,” Lamorun said. “Then slaughter them quickly.”
“Ancestors,” Simra said, exasperated. “Shall I do the talking?”
Another deep, single rumble of thunder rolled through the wide valley. This time it was clear that it had come from off in the distance to the left, which was north and west. The earth vibrated underfoot for a few long seconds.
“It sounds like it’s coming from under the ground,” Hilana said.
Lakhoni pointed to the sky, which had a few wispy clouds painted far apart. “It’s certainly not coming from above.”
“How is thunder coming from the earth?” Hilana asked.
“Why don’t we ask them?” Lamorun indicated the fast-approaching group of people.
“Perhaps we should wait on that,” Lakhoni said. “For now, keep your hands away from your blades.”
The approaching group ran full out until they were five paces from the companions, then as if on a signal, they broke from a tight group into a long, curving line. It was three men and three women, each holding a curving sword. They all wore matching tunics and stiff leather armor that encircled their torsos and shoulders. The armor looked like a serpent of animal skin had encircled their bodies, with the shapes of the leather and metal adornments adding to this impression. The women’s features were finer, and their hair was in a tight braid that hung down their backs. The men all had the sides of their heads shaved completely clean, with the tops of their heads covered in short, fuzzy hair. Lakhoni shared a glance with Simra. These appeared to be soldiers.
Six curving swords extended from the line of soldiers at the same time. One man and one woman stepped forward, their swords still extended. “Who are you?” The man asked.
“And why have you come to Modigilza?” The woman asked.
Lakhoni blinked, his brows drawing down. “Modig—what?”
The woman raised an eyebrow. “You are in the land of Modigilza, trespasser.”
“What are your intentions?” The man asked, his voice gruff. The four other members of the party held completely still, all staring intently at Lakhoni and his companions.
Another ground level roll of thunder shook the valley.
Exchanging a glance with Simra, then Lamorun and Alronna, Lakhoni straightened and looked confidently at the man. Maybe they wouldn’t care that Alronna’s face was painted to look like a minga. “We’re looking for the Rod—”
The woman barked a command at the same time Lakhoni spoke. It wasn’t so much a word as a single, short, sound. The other soldiers, including the man who had spoken, flowed into movement, their blades slicing through the air and closing the gap between them and Lakhoni’s companions. In the next moment, each of them had a wicked sword edge at their necks. The woman glared at Lakhoni. “Drop your blades.”
“Give us a chance and we will release our weapons.” Lakhoni extended his hands, palms up to show he wasn’t a threat. “This isn’t necessary.”
“Now.” The woman’s voice cut through the space between them, carrying a threat of imminent death. “You dare bring weapons of war and murder to our city?” She growled another sound and tapped a finger on a small skin drum attached to her side. The soldiers stepped closer, their curved swords not wavering even a finger’s width. “Drop them.”
Lakhoni held as still as he could. She was angry about his companions bringing weapons of war and murder? What did she call the swords held to his and his family’s throats? Tools for peace? The sharp edge against his neck felt as if it would slice him open if he breathed. “Hard to move with these swords on our throats.”
“You’d best be careful then,” the woman said.
Lakhoni breathed carefully, finding his center on the rough ground. He snagged his dagger’s hilt with his fingertips and pulled it free, then dropped it to the earth with a light thump. With his other hand, he tugged his katte off his back and let it fall. More thuds sounded as the others dropped their weapons to the ground.
“We’re not here to hurt anyone.” Lakhoni fought the urge to pull away from the blade pressed to his neck.
“Bring them.” The woman tapped the skin drum again, making a deeper sound. She stepped forward, her movements fluid.
“Bring us?” Alronna said. Then the soldiers turned their blades around and hooked each companion’s neck with the back of the curve, which, thankfully, wasn’t sharp.
“Why won’t you let us talk?” Simra asked.
The woman whose blade was against Lakhoni’s neck pressed the dull back of her sword against him. “Move,” she said.
Lakhoni obeyed. Even though the dull side was pressing into the top of his spine, he had no desire to antagonize these soldiers. He glanced around to see his companions’ reactions. Alronna’s jaw muscles writhed as she clenched her teeth. She looked as if she wanted to have words with the woman leading the soldiers, but she kept her peace. Simra caught Lakhoni’s eye with a wry, resigned smile and a raised eyebrow. Despite their situation, warmth filled his chest.
Lamorun and Hilana walked next to each other, their shoulders tense, as if ready to spring into battle at a moment’s notice.
“We are not here to do any harm,” Alronna said. Her voice was tight and controlled, as if she would prefer to be hurling insults at the woman. “And the least you could do is not leave our weapons out here to be stolen or ruined by the rain.”
“More of my warriors are already coming.” The soldiers’ leader pointed at a new group of six soldiers speeding their way. “They will collect your weapons.” She tossed a tight glare over her shoulder at the captives. “Now be silent.”
“We’re doing what you asked,” Lakhoni said. “Please just hear us.”
“We will not listen to honeyed lies and traitorous promises of peace.” The woman lifted her head to greet the new group of soldiers. She gestured behind her, indicating the weapons strewn about on the ground. “Collect the trespassers’ weapons.” A low rumble sent tremors through the earth. She didn’t appear to notice anything. “We will be in Illiana’s anteroom.”
“Yes, Desa,” the man at the front of the new group of soldiers said. The six streamed by.
“We’ve done nothing,” Simra said. “Is this how you treat everyone who comes near your city?”
The woman snorted. “Modigilza is a city of peace and order. We allow all with good intentions to join our society. But we will not be betrayed again.”
“Betrayed?” Lakhoni asked. Something about the anger in her voice sounded fresh. Raw.
“That is enough.” The woman made a short chopping motion with one hand. “Be silent. Mozde and Illiana will hear you and will decide what to do with you.”
“What to do with us?” Simra’s voice dripped with disbelief. “Your name is Desa, right? We were just pass—”
“Silence.” Desa spun, her voice angry, but her lips curled in a mocking smile. “You will not talk anymore.” She turned back to leading the group toward the city. “And Desa is my title. I am Desa Thora.” She fell silent. Lakhoni and Simra exchanged glances. Lamorun and Hilana also looked at Lakhoni, confused expressions on their faces. Alronna simply glared at Desa Thora’s back. The lines on Alronna’s face made her look like she was stalking the woman.
Lakhoni focused on his breathing, doing his best to maintain his internal calm despite the questions swirling through his head. This made no sense. Why by Creation would these people run out of their city, take him and his family captive, and now bring them into the city? And what was Desa Thora talking about when she said that they would not be betrayed again? It felt like something recent had happened. Lakhoni admitted that he might be simply imagining things, but this had to be Gadnar’s path. Had the murderous man passed through here and, well, done his usual evil? Murder and theft and whatever else occurred to him?
They were led toward the center of the sprawling city. The city was set back into a massive, concave alcove in the mountain wall. The waterfall they’d seen earlier fell from an edge far above and some distance off to the right. Mist rolled continuously out from where the waterfall struck the earth, but now that Lakhoni could feel it, the impression was no longer of a hazy dream. The mist felt cool and refreshing.
The buildings ahead were all utterly solid stone. The sounds of an industrious city filled the air. Laughter, voices, and tools being used. The smell of fires and curing skins filled the air. As they approached, the ground underfoot felt different. Where the ground they had just left behind was mostly dirt-covered stone with thin, hardy grass and shrubs growing here and there, now all was gray and black stone. Thin, swirling strips of white gleamed with water droplets throughout, as if some kind of unnatural dye had been stirred through liquid rock.
No wall circled the city. The outermost edge of the city consisted almost entirely of small stone huts, some of which were dug into the ground and had plants growing from dirt on their roof. But directly ahead was a long, low stone building. It looked like every other barracks Lakhoni had ever seen, except it was entirely of stone. And it appeared to be all one piece of stone—not built from carved out sections that were placed together.
People worked and moved everywhere the eye could see, filling the air with the sound of a busy city. Not chaotic like Zyronilxa had been. This sounded peaceful and productive. Then, underneath everything, a series of deep thumps sounded. This new noise came from ahead a ways, but Lakhoni couldn’t see what had made it. Seconds later, a higher pitched thumping sounded. What was that?
The soldiers led him and his family around the first stone homes—all of which had men, women, and children in and around them. Several people tended to gardens on roofs or near their homes. Others worked skins near fires. Lakhoni blinked and looked closer. He counted at least five different places where men or women stood over a hot forge, children working bellows, the adults pounding heavy stone hammers onto whatever tools or weapons they were making. High pitched rings and clangs cut through the air as the work went on. Home forges? What was this city?
More soldiers than he could quickly count patrolled in groups of three, curved swords held tightly diagonal across chests, as if they meant to be ready to leap into battle at a moment’s notice. One from each trio had what looked like a drum slung tightly against their left hip. It bounced with each step the soldiers took. The trios marched quickly, weaving around clusters of people and passing each other with serious nods. A group of men and women pulled a wagon full of woven mats and baskets up a road that seemed to be a natural stone path between homes. It led up and to the left at a gentle slope and curved slightly as it extended that way, appearing to circle deeper into the city alcove after two or three hundred paces. Several stone homes were built in and under the road. When the wagon passed, a group of laughing children chased a reed hoop down the slope at the same time that a woman em
erged from a home directly under their feet. She held a bucket and dumped whatever it held into the area in front of her home, where a cackling, fussing flock of chickens swarmed whatever she’d given them.
“Keep moving,” the woman leading him growled. Two musical thumps cut through the city, sounding for all the world like drum beats.
Moving only his eyes, Lakhoni looked around. Where had that come from? The curved sword at his neck directed him to his right. Desa Thora had turned right and was taking a road that was similar to the one on the left. Three more drum beats, these higher pitched, sounded over the city. Finally Lakhoni spotted two men standing at a bend just ahead in the road. They had a series of drums large and small arrayed before them, and they held sticks and small clubs in each hand. As he watched, the man with long hair and a wispy beard that hung off his chin like moss struck several drums faster than he could follow. Multiple tones rang out. Within a few seconds, from somewhere below, came deeper tones. Was this how the people of Modigilza entertained themselves? Random drumming on multiple levels of the city?
Lakhoni put the questions out of his mind as they climbed higher. More drum tones sounded as they made their way. He wanted to ask what was happening, but the lady shoving him along with her sword had an expression harder than the stone they were walking on.
They climbed through the city, houses under the road and on the gray stone wall that lined the left side of the road. As they got higher, the houses got bigger. Not taller, but wider and cut deeper into the alcove. Had this people carved this entire city out of a mountain, leaving the city and its alcove behind? How could that be possible? It would have taken a hundred years or more. Most of the houses had paintings or carvings in their exterior stone walls. The carvings depicted various animals, but most of the animals were unrecognizable. The most common carving Lakhoni saw was what looked like a snake. But it was thicker than any snake he’d seen and had strange, small wings and curling horns coming from its head.
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