Alora: The Portal (Alora 2) - Page 103

The third sentry, with the braided adornment of a head guard, took a step toward them, completely blocking his view of the last one. “Whatever that may be, we don’t want it. How came you to be here? You don’t have enough years to be in the secure ward.”

“I came to bring my brother back, as you would well suspect.”

“Yes, as I thought.” He nodded, and Markaeus let out the breath he’d been holding. Then the guard’s eyes narrowed as he lifted his hand to point with his sword. “No, this is nonsensical. Are you saying your brother escaped from the caverns and you returned him to us of your own accord?”

Haegen yelled, “Now, Markaeus!”

Markaeus whipped his right hand around and pointed the strange weapon in the head guard’s face, squeezing with his finger. Not having had opportunity to practice, he was astounded at the result, despite Uncle Charles’ precise instructions. A small misty stream squirted four strides away to wet the guard’s face. The startled sentry dropped his sword to scream and claw at his eyes.

“Go!” Haegen, having likewise spewed debilitating liquid on the closest guards, shoved at his back.

Markaeus took three running steps, when a flash of metal caught his eye. Diving to duck the sword swinging at his head, he hit the ground hard, his weapon rolling from his fingers. He looked up at the unforgiving face of a hulking, well-muscled sentry who placed his heavy boot on Markaeus’ chest, resting the point of his blade under his chin.

“You there! Boy! Come lie face down if you don’t want your brother skewered through the neck.”

“No, Haegen! Run!”

The pressure of the blade increased until he felt the sting of his skin splitting.

“I can’t, Markaeus. I can’t leave you. I’m no coward.” Haegen trudged back, scuffing his feet.

The closest sentry screamed out as he stumbled forward, “I’m going to kill them both! They burned my eyes! I can’t see!”

“Down on the ground, boy,” Markaeus’ captor barked. “Drop that strange weapon in your hand. I’ll slit both your throats before I let you burn my face.”

Tears of frustration filled Markaeus’ eyes, blurring the guard’s image. He squirmed, clawing at the leg on his chest.

The guard made a strange gurgling sound, and his head fell forward. Dropping from his hand, the blade rolled to clang on the floor as he crumpled. Behind him stood Uncle Charles, wiping his knife on his pant leg. Sheathing the knife, he extended hands to Markaeus and Haegen, hefting them to their feet, even as the blinded guards fumbled toward them.

“Hurry, before the others recover enough to chase us. And hang on to that pepper spray. Don’t forget, you can’t touch your faces until you’ve washed your hands.”

Hope renewed, Markaeus took off as fast as his legs would carry him, glancing over his shoulder to be sure Haegen and Uncle Charles were close behind. Remembering the turns in his mind, he led them to the last corner before the main corridor. Sliding to a halt, he leaned over to catch his breath.

“The entrance to the stairway is way down this corridor on the left, but first comes the big guard station.” Markaeus waited expectantly for Uncle Charles to produce some new magick weapon.

Uncle Charles wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand before kneeling to rummage inside his special rucksack. He extracted two clear tube containers filled with liquid, removing the caps to stuff a rag in each one, hanging out a hand’s length. Opening his cloak, he revealed a pocketed apron around his waist. He slid one of the tubes into a pocket, careful to keep it upright. Reaching again into his rucksack, he retrieved a black rectangular object, slightly larger than his hand, which slipped into an adjacent pocket. With the rucksack in place on his back once again, he stood, with the remaining tube container in his right hand and, in his left hand, one last mysterious treasure… a shiny silver box that could hide in his palm.

“Here’s the plan. We’re going to run as fast as we can. If anyone tries to block you, spray them with that pepper spray. You’ve got another fifteen or twenty seconds left in each can—”

“Wait, Uncle Charles,” Haegen interrupted. “What is ‘seconds’?”

“Never mind… just spray them until you empty the can. Whatever happens, whatever you hear, you just keep running. I’m going to take up the rear and try to stop anyone who’s chasing us. If you get to the secret stairs and I’m not with you, keep going. You got it?”

Markaeus threw his arms around Uncle Charles’ neck. “I’m sorry we don’t have major gifts yet, but we could still try to throw the knives.”

“Yes,” Haegen agreed. “Sometimes we hit our targets, even though we aren’t gifted. It’s not necessary for you to fight alone.”

Uncle Charles shook his head, patting Markaeus’ back. “You’ve been great, boys. You’ve already hit your targets with the pepper spray. Just do that again. I don’t have much faith in knife throwing without a little magic behind it.”

“I hear voices. Someone’s coming,” whispered Haegen.

“Let’s go, boys. It’s show time.”

*****

Worster led the way, winding through the caverns to the area Daegreth had indicated on the map as the most likely place for Vindrake to interrogate prisoners. His circuitous route avoided the most heavily guarded areas near Vindrake’s living quarters. Indeed, they hadn’t encountered a single sentry in the smoke-filled passageways, save two who hurried the opposite direction holding wet rags over their mouths and noses.

Graely slipped his hand inside his pants pocket, fingering a pliable pouch. The small bag, identical to the ones carried by each of the other three warriors, contained a special glamour powder concocted by Nordamen. The glamours were based on everyday potions, such as those used by countless commoners to make themselves appear more attractive, and thus wouldn’t be of special notice to anyone sensitive to magick. But Nordamen’s powders had a special affect, causing the casual observer to see someone they recognized or expected to see, rather than the real person. However, the fragile impression fragmented with movement, so utilizing the glamour required approaching from an unseen position and freezing in place when observed. A further complication occurred if two antagonists observed the glamour-covered person at once, since each would see and address a different person. Still, despite its shortcomings, the glamour provided some chance of gaining close enough proximity to Vindrake’s shamans to engage in a physical battle, bypassing their dark magick spells.

Tags: Tamie Dearen Alora Fantasy
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