Dryad-Born (Whispers from Mirrowen 2) - Page 110


Lukias gave him a cunning smile and shook his head. “I hadn’t even thought of that. Well done. Come.”

With the release of the torc’s magic, Nizeera padded off the stone lid and came after them as they exited. Feeling the urgency of the moment, they proceeded to run back to the Calcatrix chamber. Annon sent Nizeera ahead to scout and she willingly did, darting ahead of the others with her longer stride. It was still shut and she waited while they caught up.

They reached the doors and stopped to catch their breath. Annon wiped sweat from his brow and listened at the door. A pang of sadness stabbed him, realizing that Erasmus was no longer with them. A prediction would have been handy at the moment. He shoved aside the mounting grief and pulled at the doors, leading into darkness.

“Take my hands,” Lukias said, offering his to both of them. “I know the safe path in the dark. The cat can smell us easy enough. We need to hide quickly.”

As the door shut behind them, they were immersed in utter blackness. Their boots crunched on the broken shards from the glass spheres. Lukias took them to the right, keeping along the edge of the wall. Each step echoed on the cold stone. Above, they heard the flutter of wings and a sickly clucking sound from the creatures lurking above. Hisses came as well. Annon remembered the pain from their talons and started to tremble.

“Sshhh,” Lukias warned, slowing. “Do you hear it?”

They come, Nizeera thought to Annon. The ground trembles with it.

“They are almost here,” Annon whispered.

“Against the wall and crouch low. We dare not move with all the glass.”

They all hunkered down in the darkness. Moments later, light split the wall across the chamber, knifing into their eyes. Annon shielded his face, his breath quickening. A mass of leather-hard boots clomped into the room. A few held strange torches, not made of pitch or flame, but with a strange crystal at the top. The light did not radiate, strangely, but seemed to gather like honey to a stick. They heard a voice warn to follow the lead lights and not wander off. The sound of marching men filled the chamber, causing wave after wave of vibration to tremble the floor. The scraping and grating of the broken shards ground beneath dozens of boots caused an uncomfortable shiver up Annon’s spine. Mutters and oaths came from the mass of men. Links from hauberks jingled. The cooing from the Calcatrix above intensified, as if they were hungry for human flesh below, but could not see.

The marching reached the far doors and again light spilled into the chamber. Annon caught a glimpse of a black cassock and silver hair. The marching continued and then the doors closed and darkness reigned again.

“Good,” Lukias whispered at last. “It will not take long for them to reach the other chamber. We must go.”

Lukias pulled on their hands and they rose and quickly walked along the outer edge. “I will let go of your hands now,” Lukias said. “I need to feel for the door. We can’t risk missing it. Follow my footsteps.” Once the grip was lost, Annon felt like a ship without a rudder. He grabbed Khiara’s arm so that the two of them wouldn’t stumble against each other in the dark. Nizeera prowled behind Lukias until he found the gap in the stone he was looking for.

“Over here,” he offered.

They joined him just as the crack of light appeared again, blinding them. Annon saw Lukias’s shadow on the floor and followed as he exited the chamber. The hallway beyond was deserted.

“How did you manage to survive it?” Lukias asked over his shoulder at them, his eyebrows raised curiously. “Most people would have looked at the creatures attacking them and been turned to stone first. Did someone warn you?”

Annon shook his head. “It was Druidecht lore, actually,” he answered. They all walked at a fast-paced clip. “I remembered it in time.”

Lukias snorted. “You have quite a memory. But then Druidecht are known for their good memories. You must memorize the lore, after all. This way—the tunnel branches off. It is a maze that few know the passages through.”

They walked swiftly, feeling the tension and dread of knowing soldiers were behind them. Annon sighed, wishing he had done something else to delay the Arch-Rike. “We should have decoyed them,” he said, frowning. “If we had opened the bars leading to the Scourgelands, it may have tricked them into thinking we had gone in there. With the doors barred, they will know we did not.”

Lukias glanced back at him again. “You use the Uddhava as well? Impressive. But then, you traveled with a Bhikhu. I’m sure he taught you.”

“He did.” Annon glanced back the way they came. He asked Nizeera to keep them alerted of pursuit.

Tags: Jeff Wheeler Whispers from Mirrowen Fantasy
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