I always do, Thing sent. He patted Nulthir's arm again then turned away like a general to marshal his family. But it was too late for that.
Darkness seeped under the door to the corridor that connected all the flats on this level, and that darkness was coming for him. Nulthir opened his mouth to shout a warning, but invisible hands grasped his throat and squeezed. Help me, Thing!
Chapter Three
Iraine slipped away from the crowd of blue-coated Guards surrounding the yellow-robed flesh mender. He had a wandering eye that gave her the creeps every time it drifted sightlessly in her direction. Iraine felt that eye upon her as Mart crooked her calloused fingers in her direction.
Oh goody, Mart had another job for her. Please let that job not involve the flesh mender again. Once was enough. Iraine crossed herself, just in case, as she jogged passed the holding cells to Mart's side. Her footsteps echoed, but so did every squeaking hinge and whispered word in this cave.
Mart chewed on a leaf. Its minty scent was a welcome addition to the rank odor emanating from the inmate the older Guardswoman gestured to. “You grab his head and shoulders. I’ll lift the feet, and Blossom—”
“I'll hold the cart steady. Can’t have the body wagon rolling off without the body, now can we?” Blossom cracked a smile at her grim joke. She was whip-thin whereas Mart was more solidly built.
Mart ignored Blossom’s attempt at humor. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah, I got him.” Iraine slipped past Mart into the cell to take up her designated end.
“Go. Hoist this sorry sack of cold meat up.” Mart heaved as she spoke.
Iraine lifted her half, and the emaciated man rose off the damp ground. The three crosses she wore clicked softly as she carried him. They reminded Iraine of her earlier ordeal, and she wished she’d worn an even dozen. One could never have enough divine protection, especially given recent events.
“He’s a heavy one.” Iraine held on despite her shaking arms. How many more bodies would she have to carry before they let her go home for the day? This was the seventh one. “Did he say what did him in?” Iraine didn’t want to say that mender’s name lest she summon him and his wandering eye. It was something with a Z, Zarek, maybe?
“No, we mere mortals don’t rate an explanation.” Blossom turned her head and spat in the direction of the low voices further down in the cell block.
“Hold him steady. Don’t let his head loll. This one’s not dead yet. Let’s keep him that way, ladies.” Mart shuffled sideways, and the weight of their twitching burden shifted until Iraine bore the lion’s share of it again.
“God, he’s heavy.” Iraine grimaced as her knees wobbled.
“We’re almost there. Bloss, get that cart ready. We’re coming out.”
“Could you take more of his weight?” Like before this guy flattened her? Iraine gave Mart a pleading look, but it rolled right off the tough old Guardswoman.
Anything a man could do, Mart always did better, even when no men were watching. And there usually weren’t any down here since most of the prison Guards were women. The few who weren't were in the infirmary dealing with an assortment of bruises from their run-in with the 'bird monsters.'
Iraine bit back a laugh at that. She'd met the so-called ‘bird monsters.’ They were about two feet tall and quite intelligent, not the towers of feathers and teeth described by the victims of their attack. The truth usually didn’t make the rounds down here. Let the other Guards believe the 'monsters' they'd faced were ten feet tall and shot lightning out of their eyes if that kept them away from those mysterious shards.
Iraine groaned as Mart stopped and fiddled with the cell door, leaving her holding most of the guy's weight again. But this time, her knees buckled, and she planted her butt on the cold stone floor.
"What did you do that for?" Mart glowered at Iraine over her shoulder, and her dark brows drew together into an angry line.
"Why did you let go? I told you this guy's heavy." Iraine rubbed her stinging eyes with her gloved hands. She was so damned tired. Her shift should have ended hours ago, but it hadn't because the Guards were shorthanded again. That seemed to be their default state.
“This is men's work.” Blossom tapped her fingers on the cart to hide their shaking. She was as exhausted as Iraine. Maybe even more so since the Guardswoman had at least two decades on Iraine.
"Agreed." Iraine regarded the inmate sprawled across her lap. He was still breathing shallowly. At least he'd stopped twitching. But he still weighed more than she could deadlift without help.
"Yeah, but do you see any men lining up for this duty?" Mart planted her fists on her ample hips and made a show of looking around for volunteers.
Mart had unsettling eyes for a non-magicker. They were the same dark brown as Iraine's, but there was a strange gleam in them independent of the luminous crystals scattered around to light the cell-lined cave. The wrinkles bracketing her eyes only accentuated their strangeness, forcing Iraine to look away.
Everyone had secrets, especially down here in the bowels of Mount Eredren. It wasn't her place to pry into them.
"Well, do you?" Mart asked. She was drawing this out. Maybe she also needed a rest.
"No, I don't." Iraine rubbed her face again, but she couldn't scrub away the need for sleep.
“Then you'd better get a move on. On three, help me lift him." Mart squatted down until she could thrust her hands under the inmate's splayed legs. Of course, she'd take the lighter end again.
But Mart did have seniority, so Iraine suppressed her frustration. When Mart shouted, 'three,' Iraine did her level best to spring to her feet while lifting three-quarters of her body weight. While her arms screamed in protest, her thoughts drifted back to Nulthir. No one had seen him since the 'bird monsters' had appeared, but that was many hours ago. Iraine gritted her teeth and staggered forward.
Nulthir was her only witness to those strange events earlier, and he’d better live long enough to explain them. Iraine had big dreams, and they didn’t include hauling around bodies until her arms fell off.
“Steady as she goes. Just a little farther. Do you have the door? Iraine?” Mart snapped, wrenching her from her reverie.
“Yes, I have it.” Iraine wedged her foot against the cell door, so Mart could exit. Then she sighed in relief when Blossom’s strong arms took some of the weight from her.
“My, he is a heavy one. What’re his bones made of? Lead pipes?” Blossom winked, and Iraine could have hugged her.
The three of them lifted the oversized man onto the cart with ease now that they had more room to maneuver. As soon as he was settled, Iraine leaned against the now empty cell to catch her breath and surreptitiously check how many cells were still occupied by the dead or dying: six. Damn.
“Good job, ladies. Take five while I find out where this one’s going.” Blossom nodded to the man overflowing the cart. His legs dangled off the side, but there wasn’t much they could do about that. The cart was four feet by two feet, and this fella was close to six feet in height.
“Is he the last one we need to move?” Iraine hoped for a yes. She needed to find and question Nulthir.
“At least until the undertaker gets here.” Mart wiped her brow with a blue handkerchief she produced from her pocket. It matched her uniform, which still looked as crisp as it had when she’d started work last night. So not fair.
Iraine was dirty and disheveled from picking up bodies for the last several hours and crawling through debris. At least her braids were still in place. They wrapped around her head in a sort of crown, keeping her frizzy black hair out of the way. She patted the ties that secured them. “In that case, would either of you mind if I took a break? I’m famished from all the work.”
Mart waved for her to go. “Take an hour, actually take two. I don’t think the undertaker will show up before then.”
"Thank you." With that, Iraine strode into the ever-present gloom down here where the sun never shone, and it swallowed her.
Now, to grab lunch and get some information. But there was one problem with that plan. Iraine didn't know where Nulthir was. But there were ways to find people, even if they didn't want to be found. Nulthir probably didn't since he had those creatures to look after.
But this was Shayari, the land of enchanted forests, there was always someone who knew how to bend those enchantments to their will. That spell needed something of his to lock on to. Iraine doubled back to where she'd found Nulthir passed out many hours ago. It wasn't far, just around the next bend in fact. Hopefully, he'd left something behind—a thread, a button—anything would do as long as it was his.
Iraine stole carefully through the shadows listening hard for voices. She didn't want to explain what she was doing here after she'd been given leave to take a much-needed break. But God had her back, the tunnel was deserted. Good. Iraine pulled a yellow lumir crystal from her utility belt and played its light over the trail of fallen rocks leading to the collapsed tunnel.
She'd roped off this area after the ‘bird monster’ incident, which still made her laugh when she thought about it. Those unlucky Guards must have startled Nulthir’s creature friends, and they'd dived at the interlopers to scare them away. But his owl-cat creatures hadn’t left so much as a scratch on any of the hapless Guards.
What a sight that must have been. Too bad she’d missed it. Laughter died in her throat as the glow of the lumir crystal fell on the severed rope. What in hellfires happened here? Iraine crouched down to examine its frayed ends. Someone had sawed through it.
Footfalls sounded nearby. Rocks scraped and skittered. Who was poking around in the rubble?
Iraine closed her fist around the lumir crystal, so only a narrow beam knifed between her gloved fingers. Thank God her skin was as brown as her eyes. In her dark blue uniform tunic and trousers, she blended into the darkness and became one with it.
A thrill went through her. God, how she loved the hunt. Iraine patted her handcuffs. They were still secured tightly to her utility belt, too tightly to jangle as she crept through the darkness. Good because she might have to restrain someone—like one of the creatures she'd spoken to earlier.
That bird creature was the only other being who knew about the magicked glass mixed in with the rocks. An image of that owl-cat creature flashed through her mind. He’d fixed such sincere yellow eyes on her when he'd warned her about the strange shards mixed in with the fallen rocks. If they were so dangerous, then why had he returned?
Iraine slowed as the sounds of someone sifting through the debris grew louder. She ducked behind a stalagmite that had somehow escaped damage during the collapse and peered around it at a wall of rocks, blocking the tunnel. A hooded person in flowing gray robes squatted in the rubble, holding a lumir crystal in one hand and a dark shard that seemed to drink in the crystal’s light in his other hand.
He seemed to be unaffected by it. How strange. But his light source wasn’t so fortunate. It went dark, and Iraine drew back involuntarily at the sight of that evil glass and its power.
Iraine laid a hand over her racing heart and the three crosses under her tunic. They were probably glowing, but she couldn’t check right now because the lumir crystal in her hand had just winked out. Darkness consumed the tunnel. But if she couldn’t see the scavenger, then he couldn’t see her.
“I know you’re there,” the scavenger rasped, killing that plan. “Come out and face me.”
Yeah right, like that was a good idea. Iraine circled the stalagmite. She needed answers, yes, but at what cost? Those shards were dangerous. They’d almost knocked her out the last time she’d gotten near them, and she was the only Guard who knew about them.
Maybe she shouldn’t have roped off the area so quickly. Was it too late now to make a clean breast of it to her supervisor? Not if she could slip away unseen. Mart needed to know about those shards, the collapsed tunnel, and the strange illness affecting the inmates in this part of the prison were all connected somehow.
Her faith had saved her earlier, and it would save her again. Iraine darted out of cover. The transept wasn’t far, just on the other side of the next cell-lined cavern. Mart should still be there. Iraine crept over and around the rocks scattered about until she’d cleared the edge of the debris field. She hoped none of those shards were in her path.
Cold stung the nape of her neck, freezing her in place as that vile magic rolled down her spine, stealing her heat and something else deep inside her. Iraine tried to touch her crosses for protection, but her arm wouldn't cooperate. "Drop the shard. You're under arrest."
A raspy laugh started her. “Not likely. You're the one who's going under. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. You were an innocent bystander caught up in something you couldn’t understand,” the scavenger said as Iraine fell into the arms of darkness.
Catch your Guard, my Savior, please, Iraine prayed as the world slipped away.
Chapter Four
Amal shouted something, but Thing ignored it. Through their bond, he felt her concern, but she was worrying in vain again. The halls of Nulthir’s mind were as familiar as his own. Silly mate, Thing sent to her, and that errant thought did its job. No magic can keep my friend from me. Not even the dark magic pulling his friend back down into unconsciousness. It wouldn't win.
Amal shot him a glare for the 'silly mate' comment. At least she wasn’t fretting anymore.
Thing shifted his weight. His muscles ached from all the sitting about, but that very stillness was necessary, especially for periods of deep concentration like right now. Thing put his mate’s concerns and her repeated shouts of ‘you’re losing him’ out of mind as he kept up the psychic pressure. Fight it, old friend.
“Are we going to lose him?” Crispin asked in concern.
Did no one have any faith in him anymore? Thing shook his head, but that nonverbal response didn’t allay anyone’s fears. He sighed and worked his beak. It was stiff from all that teeth grinding he’d been doing.
“No,” Thing said finally, and there was such finality in his voice, it raised his mate's hopes. Thing felt it through their bond, and he doubled down on the call. He had a tenuous connection to Nulthir, and he pulled on it with all his mental might. Wake up and talk to me. You’re scaring the kits.
Come back to us, Amal added her mind-voice to the call before Thing could stop her. It's not your time to die. You've only just begun to live.
But That did it. Consciousness was a blue flame to Thing’s eyes. It caught after three tries and burned low in his friend’s mind. The darkness was in there too, waiting for a chance to pounce, but Thing held it at bay with the power of his mind.
“He’s coming out of it.” Thing roused his feathers. He needed to move. “Help me hold him here.”
"How did you bring him back?" Amal asked, but Thing didn’t have time to answer her. So, he did the expedient thing, he packaged up the whole tête-à-tête he'd had in Nulthir’s mind and shunted it across the mental bond he shared with her.
Ouch. Thanks for the headache, honey. A little warning next time, please, Amal sent. She shook her head as the highlights of his psychic travels unfolded, complete with sound and pictures then fell into a deep silence as she absorbed everything. Her prehensile tail reflexively stabbed the air, showing just how upset she was at him. Oh well, she needed to know, and he didn’t have time to explain it all.
I didn't realize you were so delicate, Thing sent with perhaps a touch more sarcasm than was necessary. The seeing stone shuddered, and Thing shut the door between their minds before Amal could reply or get a glimpse of the item. This wasn’t for her eyes yet, not until he knew whether there was anything to report.
Thing felt Amal’s glare as he swung up onto the headboard still gripping that stone. When he’d put enough distance between them, Thing opened his hand. The eye carved in the stone in his hand opened as a presence activated the watcher spell carved into its twin—the stone he’d left back with those strange glass shards. Thing mantled his wings. No, n
ot now. Not when he was needed here. This was the worst time for that stone to wake up.
But it had awoken and unlike him, it couldn’t see well in the dark. It could just sense when something broke the invisible beam its twin generated. Which meant someone was rummaging around in the debris where the shards of that glass object were. Thing had known that would happen, but it was too soon.
“What are you looking at?” Amal used her tail to swing up beside him.
Below, Nulthir opened his eyes. They were black pools, but his friend was in there. Thing exhaled in relief. Stay with him. Keep him from slipping into the dark again, Thing sent as he launched himself off the headboard and flapped hard for the door.
“Wait, where are you going?” Amal called after him.
“To get answers.” Thing punched the rune that shut off the wards and opened the door. Before it had swung completely open, he turned sideways and flew through the gap then tapped the rune on the other side to shut it.
“Wait, Father, I’m coming with you.” Crispin shot out of that narrowing gap just before the door clicked closed.
Then fly swiftly, son. There isn’t much time. Thing headed for the stairwell at the end of the corridor.
As Thing dodged flying buttresses and squawking birds, he kept his thoughts focused on his goal and ignored his friend's frantic call. Amal would hold Nulthir to life until he returned, hopefully with answers. Magic could do anything with the right inducement, and it was up to him to find it.
Thing checked the seeing stone before they shot through a portal into a dark stairwell, but there was no change. Someone kept breaking its beam. Good, he might just reach it in time to see who had come to collect those vile shards and just maybe, he could follow that person to his master and find out if that person was in league with Nulthir’s family. At this point, any information he could glean would help.
Wayward Magic (Magic Underground Anthologies Book 2) Page 58
