“Open your eyes, Hilana.” Lamorun squatted next to the Zhimana woman. He showed no sign of discomfort in his previously injured leg. “You will enjoy it more.”
“I do not wish to enjoy this.” Hilana’s face was pale now, but at least she was breathing evenly. Her knuckles strained white where she gripped the rope handles to either side.
“That machine up there is…” Alronna trailed off. “I don’t know, really. I’ve never seen anything like that.”
Lakhoni nodded. “Me neither.”
The platform bumped as it hit the ground and Hilana let out a tiny yelp.
“If your eyes were open, you would know we are already down,” Lamorun said, a gentle smile in his voice. He stood and held out a hand for Hilana. She glanced past it and raised an eyebrow at Lamorun. She stepped off the platform and crouched, putting her hands into the dirt of the solid earth.
Lakhoni and the others followed. As he felt the firm ground underfoot, he turned to ask Fegan the question that had just come back to him. But the man was already hurrying off to his work. “Fegan!” Lakhoni called out. “One more question.”
Fegan paused and turned. “Yer can ask it.”
“How much was taken? Of the black powder?”
Scratching his arm, Fegan shrugged. “Like Deso Lagad said, a sonti.”
“But how much is that? A pouch?” Lakhoni looked to the west. From down here the mountain looked different. It was triangular in shape, but the top didn’t have a point. It looked like the very top bit had been lopped off by a giant or god with a sword.
Fegan laughed. “Lukoz’s Sail, no. A sonti’ll hold ten pouches of the stuff.”
Would there ever be a day he did not have to walk miles?
Lakhoni forced the weak thought away as he and the others clambered between two massive halves of an enormous boulder that looked to have rolled from the mountain only a few miles ahead. The rock was like nothing he’d ever seen. It was rough and pockmarked and felt like it was jabbing any skin that came in contact with it. His booted feet were sore from hiking across it for the last two days, despite the tough leather that protected him.
He took up the rear of the line, with Alronna in the lead as she had been for the last few days—since before they passed through that strange mining city. They had crossed through the massive chasm that the miners had carved out over what had to be generations and by nightfall of the next day had found themselves on this strange stone. The last thing Fegan had said, about how much of the black powder had been stolen, refused to leave Lakhoni’s mind. If the powder had the ability to shatter stone, what could Gadnar be planning with it? Nothing good, to be sure.
And how had the people of that city made the black powder anyway? How could anything so small, that looked like dirt scraped from the earth, be so powerful as they said? But it had to be. As they’d passed through the chasm in the last light of that first day, they’d seen countless man-made caves in the solid stone cliff faces. The tunnels they opened to were well lit with short, rough torches, revealing warrens and mazes of caves that clearly cut deeply into the stone. Somehow this black powder could do that. And if it could destroy stone so effectively, what could it do to people?
Lakhoni lifted his leg high to plant his foot on the jagged stone and climbed out of the narrow space, his eyes taking only a moment to adjust back to the pale light of the cloudy day. After spending the entire day after leaving the mining city hearing and feeling that thunder in the ground, it was now unusually quiet. It felt as if the months-long journey had worn all of his companions down. As if none of the five could find the energy to do more than keep their legs swinging—flesh-covered sticks that carried them mindlessly forward. Chasing after a man intent on a power Lakhoni didn’t pretend to understand.
He glanced backward and realized that what he’d thought had been a boulder was simply a massive, bulbous rock formation that had split over the years. What was this strange stone anyway? When he picked up a small rock, it felt nearly weightless.
He found his companions stopped, catching their breath as Alronna pointed. She glanced at Lakhoni then turned back. “I see smoke over there.”
Lakhoni squinted in the direction she was pointing. “How? The entire sky looks like smoke.”
“I see it too,” Simra said. “Between those two mounds that look like sleeping dogs.”
Lakhoni shook his head. “I don’t see it.”
“Brother.” Lamorun put his big hands on the sides of Lakhoni’s head. They were as rough as the porous stone they were walking through. “Look up the mountain. You see that waterfall?’
“That small thing?” Lakhoni removed his brother’s hands. “That’s hardly a waterfall.”
“This isn’t about the waterfall.” Lamorun’s whip-muscled arm pressed against the side of Lakhoni’s face. “Follow it down, then straight across.” Lamorun’s finger moved to the left. “There.”
Lakhoni saw it. Why did he have so much trouble seeing these things when everybody else had almost none? “Could that be Gadnar’s campfire?” The possibility flipped his heart in his chest. Could they really be so close? It was possible they’d caught up, surely.
“Too big,” Hilana said. “And I think I see more beyond it.”
“More what?” Lakhoni glanced at Hilana.
She gave him an exasperated grimace. “Smoke. More smoke.”
“There is more.” Alronna rolled her shoulders and neck, loosening them. “Let’s go see where it’s coming from.” She set out again and the companions followed behind her. The porous, jagged stone grew more treacherous as they crossed it. With the sun dipping toward the western horizon almost completely washed out by seamless clouds, the hard-edged mountain ahead served as their only reliable landmark leading them west. The smoke dissolving into the sky led them off to the south somewhat, towards rolling foothills perhaps a mile away. They would make it to those hills before night fell.
“I will make a prediction,” Lamorun said. “Either we will be attacked by some strange creatures with glowing red eyes or we will find more victims of Gadnar.”
Hilana snorted. “I would not take that wager.”
Simra turned, a short angry growl coming from her throat. “Neither of those things is funny.”
Lamorun kicked a loose rock, sending it rolling away. “It was not a joke.” He let out a noisy breath and bumped his cudgel against his leg. “But we would be fools to ignore the obvious pattern.”
“A pattern we will end,” Alronna said.
“Yes,” Lakhoni said. Simra glanced at him, frustration welling up in her eyes. Every muscle in her body and expression screamed exhaustion at him. Without her, several of them might have died of blood loss, but he still wished there had been a way to have her stay behind. What if she were hurt or worse? “And we would be worse fools if we let our guard down.” He drew a finger down the leather sheath of his dagger, then stretched one hand behind his neck to make sure his katte was within reach. He tried to banish the relentless weariness that had settled into every part of his core, but it would not go easily. Alronna’s earlier stretches were a good idea. Lakhoni did the same, loosening his shoulders and neck and forcing himself to breathe deeper and slower. Even one night on a bed softer than stone or dirt would help. Two strong trees would be all it took. He could string his hamuk and spend a less lumpy night than he had spent in what felt like weeks.
Enough.
He had chosen this path. He had a life to make with Simra when Gadnar was found and stopped. Until then, forward was the only choice. He might not be able to banish his weariness or sleep it off, but he could ignore it. Lakhoni followed Simra around a fissure in the rock underfoot and looked ahead. Now he could make out several columns of pale, white smoke. The columns stood out against the sky, which was tinged somewhat gray, as if rain might come soon.
The smoke seeped out from the tops of rocky, green-covered hills. Lakhoni and his companions’ feet had found relief from the jagged black rock not long
before as they came to the foothills that ringed the oddly shaped mountain. The dirt was dark and somehow soft and the grass and plants growing were lush and healthy. The tiny waterfall high up the mountain had grown as they drawn closer and now they could see it fell at least a few hundred paces. There had to be some kind of river up there that fed the waterfall, and the fall fed a rushing river whose chattering they could hear but not yet see. At least thirty homes were carved into the foothills, with gardens on and around homes. Animals clustered in rough pens of wood that reminded Lakhoni of the space the dogs roamed behind the temple in Zyronilxa. Wood fires dotted the large village, set into pits ringed with stone. Stretched skins cured near a wide trench that looked to be full of banked coals. People moved with purpose, chattering and calling out. Peaceful industry was all Lakhoni could see.
They were hill people like the others who danced until someone died. Would these ones also have strange legends? Were these people also a group of what others had called Betrayers? There didn’t seem to be any sign of distress and no soldiers or warriors were suddenly rushing at them. Had Gadnar somehow missed this village? Or had he just gone around it? The hills these people lived in sat right at the foot of the mountain Illiana and Mozde had indicated and Gadnar had the Rod already. He could have simply found his way up the mountain. He might already
Enough waiting. Enough questions. Enough chasing. More than enough worry.
Lakhoni took a steady, firming breath. He closed his eyes for a long moment, his feet planted on the ground, strength in each muscle, blood pumping steadily. He opened his eyes. The black mountain soared above them, stark against the pale, washed out sky covered in clouds. A serrated edge topped the mountain and if Lakhoni caught sight of the mountain at the right angle and light, it looked as if somehow the rock on the mountain sides had flowed from crevices and the top itself.
“Let’s move.” He started down slope, the soft, light-green grass growing from dark, rich dirt a welcome change under his feet. “Time to finish this.”
He heard and felt the others fall in behind him, catching their movement to either side from the corner of his eyes. Voices called out as the people of the hill village caught sight of them. A group of hardy-looking women and men gathered just in front of a long fire trench with skins stretched just beyond it. Each person carried a weapon of some kind. One man held a stubby, jagged sword out and stepped in front of his group, face screwed up in suspicion.
The slope carried Lakhoni and his family fifty paces down until it leveled out for all of three paces and began leading back up into the hills with homes carved into them. The first home was up and to the right, the next just beyond that, and several more up and to the left.
Just as Lakhoni took his first step up, toward the waiting group of armed people, the man with the stubby sword separated himself from his group a little more. “Who are you and what’s your intent?” The man kept several paces of distance between himself and Lakhoni.
“We simply desire passage.” Lakhoni planted himself firmly, meeting the man’s eyes—set deep in a face shaggy with graying beard and eyebrows—and doing his best to project confidence. “We must get up that mountain.” Lakhoni raised his eyebrows and gave an exaggerated look upward and behind the village.
“Naught up there but death and pain.” The shaggy man’s sword dipped some, as if it were heavy and his arms were getting tired.
Alronna took her usual place at Lakhoni’s left, Simra to his right. Beyond Simra stood Hilana and Lamorun. “We thank you for the warning.” Alronna met the man’s gaze, then looked to the group backing him up, then the village beyond them. “But we have business on this mountain.”
Hilana broke in. “Has a man passed through here recently? Scar in his chest. Carrying a big stick?”
The man’s shaggy eyebrows drew down and he stuck out a lip, his expression pensive. He shook his head. “None through here in years.” He looked up at the slightly darkening sky and glanced over his shoulder. A woman in the group came forward. “Saylora, can we spare some beds for the e’en?”
The woman had hair the color of a sword’s blade. It was pulled back and hung down her back, wrapped from her neck down in soft-looking leather. Her face was unlined, despite the color of her hair. She bit her lower lip for a moment, studying Lakhoni and his companions, then shrugged. “Nuna’s got space now’t her girl wedded.”
Lakhoni felt a smile stretch his lips. These people sounded like Reg, the ox-tender he had worked with a full year ago on his quest to free Alronna. “We thank you for the kind offer.” Lakhoni forced his tense shoulders to relax. Their warm, familiar language called him back to a more focused, simpler time. “But like my sister said, we have business up the mountain.” He took a confident step forward. “If you will simply show us the best path up…” He smiled, doing his best to put them at their ease.
“Lakhoni.” Lamorun’s voice held a hint of warning. “It’s getting dark. We could stop, rest, and be ready to meet him tomorrow.”
“I would enjoy a full night’s rest,” Hilana said as the shaggy man and Saylora approached.
Simra found Lakhoni’s hand and squeezed it. Lakhoni wanted to return the gesture, but urgency pushed him on. A sensation like a tight rope around his shoulders felt like it was pulling him up the mountain. Gadnar could have already found the Water Pure, whatever it was, and be doing something awful. Something worse than monstrous lizards and slaughtering a village. Raising an army, however that was supposed to work. There was no time.
But his brother was right. Exhaustion pulled at his body, telling him to rest and recuperate. Lakhoni glanced at Alronna and she caught the movement and returned a firm expression. She shook her head. “We have to go on,” she said. “We’re losing time.”
Lakhoni faced the shaggy man and Saylora, the woman with the leather-wrapped braid. “Thank you for the offer. We have to keep moving.” Something in their eyes caught his attention, although it was hard to see past the man’s bushy eyebrows.
Saylora’s smile flattened a little. She shuffled toward the shaggy man. “Lombizo. What say yer?”
The man’s voice came through his thick beard and mustache, suddenly harder and more forceful. “We wasn’t offering.” He cleared his throat. “Take ‘em!”
Lakhoni planted his feet, tingles of alarm sliding down his neck and back. He reached for his dagger and whipped his head to either side. Figures that had been camouflaged against the hills and ground burst into movement.
“Backs together!” Lamorun called out. The sound of blades being pulled from their sheathes and feet scuffing the earth filled the air.
Lakhoni did as Lamorun instructed, his free hand finding Simra and pulling her behind him. Fury and frustration made his heart pound as the moving figures clarified into upwards of ten people rushing him and his family. All of the attackers led with an edged weapon of some kind. Betrayal. Everywhere they went, they were betrayed.
Keeping his breath steady despite the anger filling him, Lakhoni raised his voice. “Lombizo! Is that your name? We do not have to fight.” A quick count told Lakhoni it was thirteen people whose charge had become a steady, threatening walk. Added to the group of six that had greeted them—
One by one. They would fall one by one. He would not be delayed anymore. Life with Simra would not be threatened anymore. And Gadnar and his plague of brothers would be ended, no matter what it took.
The shaggy man’s gravelly voice raised loud enough to echo off nearby boulders. “Aye. Lombizo it is. And you could put yer knives on t’ground and stop the fight afore it begins.”
“We will spill your blood, old man,” Lamorun said. He was right behind Lakhoni, close enough that Lakhoni felt the air disturbed as Lamorun gave his jagged-edged cudgel a few swings. Simra was behind Lakhoni and to his left, with Hilana and Alronna on that side too, keeping her safe.
Lakhoni growled deep in his throat. He dug the balls of his feet into the ground and watched the approaching people. “Last chanc
e, Lombizo. Call off your pointless attack.”
“Nope.” Lombizo cackled. “When our lord gets his power, my people’re gonna get our inheritance back. Mapiri’ll rise the way it always shoulda!”
Our lord? Heat filled Lakhoni from his feet to his face. The approaching attackers threw glances at each other and pointed, spreading out to completely encircle Lakhoni and his family. “You serve Gadnar?”
“The Red Prince!” This was from Saylora. “He’s bringin’ to pass a new age. Winner’s’ll get the places of power.”
Lamorun guffawed. “Your tactics are your doom.” Lakhoni felt a bump on the back of one of his calves. A signal from Lamorun.
Lakhoni understood. He planted both feet, flexing each muscle in his leg. He was ready.
“Easier to kill!” Lamorun roared and charged the people on his side of the circle.
Lakhoni leapt forward, swinging his dagger in a wide feint. Two of his attackers flinched hard and closed ranks. Lakhoni dropped one foot and pushed off in a feather leap, changing directions in a blink of an eye. He kicked out and slammed his leading foot against the knee of a man who had just begun a screaming charge. The man’s scream turned into a high-pitched screech and he fell. His blade dropped from hands that flew to his knee.
Lakhoni felt one of the first two swing a weapon behind him. As shouts and clangs filled the air, Lakhoni dropped onto his toes and fingertips, his dagger still pinched between two fingers and his palm. The blade cut the air above him. He rolled over and grabbed the dropped short sword of the man whose knee he had shattered. Lakhoni turned the roll into a spinning low kick, sweeping the new attacker’s feet out from under him.
An intake of breath and a grunt behind him was all the warning Lakhoni had. He flipped the short sword over and slammed it backward. It met resistance for a moment, then slid into the oncoming attacker. With his other hand, he deflected high the thrust of the woman in front of him. Her sword was short and double-edged. She turned her wrist and recovered from the deflection fast, snapping her weapon straight down.
Red Prince Page 23
