Can't Look Back (War for Dominance Book 1) (9 page)

Dantes turned to look pointedly at John. “I don’t know why he’s here, but I’d guess that he’s the reason.” He indicated the parchment. “This says that the two of us are wanted dead or alive. The human found accompanying us is to be killed immediately.”

The color drained from John’s face. “But, but...” he stammered.

“If you’re not the Spectre, then I don’t know who you are,” Dantes said; “however, I see you make friends everywhere you go.” He gazed at John with new respect. “I don’t know what information you have, but obviously the enemy thinks it’s worth killing you over. We need to get you to the Magisterium...assuming that it hasn’t fallen yet.”

“That’s where we were heading,” said Ghorza, “and his name is John.”

“Good to meet you, John,” said Dantes. “Let’s get out of here before something else comes by and sees this mess. I don’t want to have to explain it.” He walked into the cafe. “There is a tunnel in the wine cellar; the barmaid’s father is an acquaintance of mine.” He led them down into the cellar. There was no sign of the girl; hopefully she had fled. She was better off on her own with nothing to her name than she was if another pack of ogres found her.

Dantes walked to the back of the cellar and reached under the cask furthest to the right. He pulled the lever underneath and was rewarded with a “click” as a hidden latch fell open. Taking hold of the cask, he rotated the entire rack forward and to the left. A secret passage yawned open behind it, dark and foreboding.

“You two go ahead,” Dantes said, indicating they should precede him. “I’ll close it behind us.”

Ghorza looked at John. “You go first,” she said. “There might be spiders.”

“Really?” John asked, looking up at her. “
You’re
afraid of spiders?”

“Not so much afraid as that I just don’t like them,” she replied. “I grew up near the desert, and we used to have some that were six feet tall.”

Shaking his head, John walked into the tunnel. It was dark and damp. John knew it probably
was
full of spiders, especially now that Ghorza had put that thought into his head. He saw a torch located to the right as he entered the tunnel. “
Scintilla!
” he ordered, shooting a spark onto it. He blew gently and the flame caught. Sure enough, there was a big web about a foot further down the tunnel. John would have walked face-first into the hairy red spider sitting in its center. He touched the torch to the web, and it burned up, the spider falling to the floor. John started down the hall, wrinkling his nose at the musty odor.

Dantes put a hand on Ghorza’s shoulder. Although she was taller, he was more massive, and he stopped her in place. She looked over her shoulder, and he gave her a quizzical look. “He’s full of surprises,” she noted in a whisper. “That’s not all. He can do air and water magic, too.” She turned back to follow John down the hall.

Overcoming his surprise, Dantes shut and latched the secret door and followed his two companions down the damp hallway. His eyes didn’t need as much light as the others, and he was able to see quite well in the flickering torch light. He caught up with them in moments. “Let me lead,” he said. “I know the way.”

John and Ghorza moved to the side of the passage, and Dantes moved past them. Like most demons, he didn’t have problems finding his way underground and was well-accustomed to subterranean passageways. He had also traveled through these particular tunnels before, and he went faster than John would have been able.

Several minutes passed, with the sounds of fighting getting louder and more violent. Judging by the feel of it, a catapult boulder landed nearby, and it shook dust down on them. Dantes could smell the fear coming from John. It smelled good. “Don’t worry,” he said. “The tunnels should hold together a bit longer.” Another catapult stone hit close by and larger plumes of dust cascaded onto their heads. “Still, it might be best if we hurry,” he added.

Dantes doubled his speed up the passageway. Ghorza’s longer legs were up to the task, but John was forced into an awkward jog that hurt his shins. Within a couple of minutes, the sounds of clashing swords and screaming grew fainter, before nearly fading altogether. Dantes stopped suddenly. “We’re here,” he said. “Ghorza, if you could pull on that rope?” He pointed at the ceiling a few inches above her head.

Looking up, Ghorza saw the end of a small string hanging down about an inch. She would never have seen it on her own. Reaching up, she pulled down on the string. After six inches, she found that the string was tied to a rope. She pulled on the rope, and a ladder came smoothly down into the passageway on greased hinges. Dantes pulled down firmly on it, and a trap door about three feet wide opened in the ceiling. Dantes climbed up the ladder like he had done it many times before.

“Seems easy enough,” Ghorza said. She took hold of the ladder and pulled herself up, leaving John in the tunnel by himself. He could see light in the room above, so he blew out the torch and set it down on the side of the passageway. Taking hold of the ladder, he climbed up into the center of a 30-foot square room.

As he looked around, he saw that he was once again in the center of a ring of spears, all of which seemed to be very sharp and pointed right at him. The men holding the spears looked both angry and afraid, a bad combination to see across the business ends of so many weapons.

Solim surveyed the throne room. His troops had captured it in the assault, and he had decided to keep it as his command center. It was a place fit for...well, it was fit for a king, he thought, looking around at the opulence. Gorgeous tapestries hung on the walls for him to burn later, statues waited for him to pull out their gems and antique suits of armor were begging to be crushed into cookware. He couldn’t wait.

The attack had been almost flawless. He had hoped to get the trolls a little closer before they were recognized, as it was never good for morale to have most of your front rank disintegrated before it reached the walls. It had almost caused his attack to fail, but he had been able to use the crown to drive the giants through the trolls, and everything had gone well after that...except for finding and killing the thrice-damned outlander and his companions.

“I want them found, and I want them found now!” Solim ordered, trying out the throne to see how it fit. He hadn’t been told yet that he would be Norlon’s new ruler, but he couldn’t think of anyone that was a better fit for the position than he was. He was a far better choice than even that stupid anti-paladin who thought he was so high and mighty.

His eyes sought out the orc in charge of the beastiary and locked onto him. The orc’s eyes glazed over at the contact. “Take your best trackers and
bring them to me!
”

“Uh, hi,” said John, looking at all of the spears surrounding them. If anything, these spears looked even sharper than the ones that had been pointed in his face the last time.

“Are there any more of you down there?” asked the leader, who moved forward to hold the point of his sword on Dantes’ chest.

“No, there are just the three of us,” replied Dantes, reaching down to push the point of the sword away from his chest with a finger. “Despite our appearance, we are on your side, and you are holding us from our task.”

The point of the sword returned to Dantes. “I’ll be the one to say who goes where and when,” said the man. “I don’t know who you are, and there are all manner of foul creatures in the streets. If we hadn’t come down here looking for an escape route for the Magistra, you might very well have slipped in unnoticed.”

“I do not know who you are,” said Dantes, his finger still touching the point of the sword, “but I am no enemy of yours, and our mission is vital. There are indeed fell creatures in the streets, which makes our errand even more urgent.” He looked down and moved the point of the sword again with his finger. “Besides, if I wanted to take that sword from you, you would not be able to stop me.
Calefacite!
”

“There’s no need to go name calling,” the man said. “We just took over here, and it’s our job to make sure that anyone coming in is supposed to be here, today more so than any other day.
Ouch!
” While he was speaking, the tip of his sword had changed color where Dantes’ finger touched it, turning first red and then white as the sword heated. The temperature change traveled rapidly to the other end, and the soldier dropped the sword with a clang, to blow on his singed fingers.

“If you’re done fooling around, we really are on an urgent errand,” said Ghorza to Dantes, sounding annoyed. She turned to the soldier. “You may not have seen him around here recently, but some of your men have certainly seen me.” Several heads nodded, and she looked back to the leader, who was still trying to cool his hand. “May we be on our way?”

“Yes, begone,” replied the leader, and all of the soldiers withdrew their spears.

The three companions left the entry room. “Was that really necessary?” asked Ghorza.

“No,” Dantes said with a smile, “it wasn’t. Still, if he’s going to guard the Magisterium, he needs to learn to respect magic.”

The group went up several levels, the sounds of fighting growing more distinct with every passing floor. As they reached the third level, they heard a resounding crash echo down the corridor. “What was that?” asked John.

“I don’t know,” replied Dantes. “You two go find the Magistra; I’ll check it out.” He left at a run in the direction of the noise. Ghorza and John went up one more flight of stairs and then down a hall that went in the opposite direction from the way Dantes had gone. Halfway down the corridor they came to a door that was ajar. With a worried look, Ghorza pushed open the door the rest of the way. A young woman could be seen standing next to the Magistra, who lay in a bed along one of the walls of the chamber. The attendant looked up in surprise. Blood covered the bed, the floor, and most of the young woman.

“Help me!” she called. “The Magistra’s dying!”

“Magistra!” exclaimed Ghorza, rushing to her side.

The woman moved to give her room, and Ghorza could see that she was one of the Magisterium’s healers. Up close, the woman was much younger than she originally appeared. She didn’t look like she was old enough to have completed the initial healer’s training yet, much less be proficient enough to cure whatever had happened to the Magistra. “I can’t save her!” the woman said, falling into hysterics. “You’ve got to
do
something!” She began sobbing.

“What happened?” asked Ghorza.

Hearing Ghorza’s voice, the Magistra’s eyes fluttered open. She reached out for Ghorza and pulled her close. “Don’t have...much time,” she gasped. “Did...find Dantes?”

“Yes,” Ghorza replied. “I brought him back with me. We’ll get you out of here and to a healer.”

“Too late...for me,” the Magistra said. “Must find...Milos. Crown...Most important.”

“We will find him,” Ghorza said. “Also, the human may be of more help than we thought. He is able to cast at least three types of spells.”

The Magistra’s eyes opened wider and her grip tightened on Ghorza’s tunic. “Three? Forget Milos!” she forced out with a new determination. “Must take him...Mountain of Frost. More important. Prophecy...” Her grip faltered and she fell back to the bed.

Ghorza looked up to see Dantes run into the room. He had been fighting; steam was rising from his head and shoulders. “We’ve got to get her out of here,” he said. “They’re close. Too close.”

“She can’t be moved,” Ghorza and the woman said together. “She won’t survive it,” added the healer.

“She won’t survive what?” asked a high clear voice from the doorway. “There’s not going to be any dying here today, at least not while I’m around.”

John’s head spun around to see the morning sun burst forth from the doorway. As the brilliant object entered the room, John saw that it was a woman...the most beautiful woman he had ever seen...dressed in plate mail that reflected every bit of light in the room with a crimson overtone. Her silver hair hung down below her metal collar, almost appearing to blow in some non-existent wind. The woman was a knight, and she was stunning. And she was good. She was very good.

 “Damn,” Dantes said, having to avert his eyes. The evil part that he kept locked up inside found it very hard to look at her.

John knew what Dantes meant. She radiated good, but not in the same way the teufling at the cafe had given off evil earlier. Where evil seemed to cling to the devil like black oil that had a hard time separating itself from him, good emanated from the knight like a sunburst, cleansing the air around her. Her faith was strong, and that belief radiated from her in every direction.

As she crossed the room, John could see that her initial appearance was only an illusion. She was a mess, and appeared to have been in some heavy fighting. The silver armor that reflected the light with a red hue was in fact covered in at least as much blood as coated the Magistra’s bed. In the case of the paladin, though, none of it appeared to be hers. She was strong and confident as she strode across the room to where the Magistra lay.

It was only then that John noticed her companion, a man wearing a rough brown woolen robe, who trailed behind her like the morning followed the sun. His head bent, the priest followed the paladin to the bed and spread his hands out over the Magistra.

“She is in grave danger,” said the robed man in a soft voice. The emptiness in his voice spoke volumes about what he had already experienced that day. “She will die without aid and comfort,” he continued, “and alas, I have no more to give. I used all of the healing granted unto me out on the city’s walls. If you have nothing left to give, then I am afraid she is doomed.”

The young woman stifled a small sob. The cleric had been her last hope of saving the Magistra.

The paladin nodded in understanding, obviously familiar with what the man said. “Throughout the battle on the walls,” she replied, “I knew that there was something that my god was calling me to do. Something that I needed to save myself for. It is obvious to me that this is the moment.” Looking up to the heavens, she said simply, “In your name,” and laid her hands on the Magistra. Healing emanated outward from her touch, and John could see ripped flesh knit itself together and the Magistra’s breathing ease. “Thank you,” the paladin added as the healing touch receded, leaving the Magistra in a much better condition.

“Well done,” said the cleric; “you have saved her life.” He turned to the rest of the people in the room. “Her condition is improved; however, she is by no means well. She will not be able to travel far or without aid until she has rested.”

“We will need to fashion a litter,” said Dantes, looking for poles.

“We can use the sheets from the bed if we have to,” added the young woman.

“We just need some poles,” said Ghorza.

“
Excuse me!
” interrupted a voice from the bed. Everyone turned to find the Magistra up on an elbow. “I am pretty sure I remember giving you an order, Ghorza. Why are you still here? Oh, I see you found Dantes. Good. Why are you still here too? I’m unconscious for a few minutes and everyone forgets what I told them to do?”

The cleric stepped in between the Magistra and her charges. “Lady Magistra, you need to lie down,” he said.

If he hoped to calm her down, it didn’t work. “Ah, Father Telenor, you are here, too,” she said. “Is Lady Ellyn here also? Wonderful. You need to go with Dantes and Ghorza and...John Gratsby. Must...go...Prophecy...” she began weakening again at the same time as the squad of men from the basement burst into the room. They were followed closely by the halfling that John recognized as the one that had initially taken him to meet the Magistra.

“We must get the Magistra into the tunnels,” said the leader of the soldiers as he came through the door. “The enemy will be here in seconds, not minutes.”

“I will go...with them,” the Magistra said. “But you must,” she grabbed the paladin’s arm and pulled her closer. “You
must
go to the Mountain of Frost. Prophecy...Fate of world...” She collapsed onto the bed again.

“We can’t just leave her here,” said Ghorza.

“We can and will,” said the paladin. “I do not believe there can be any dispute over what the lady intended. We are to go to the Mountain of Frost, with all due haste. These other men will see to her needs. It is obviously urgent; we must accomplish the task she has given us.”

“Follow me,” said Dantes. “I know where the mountain is, as well as how to get out of the city. Getting there will not be any fun, but it appears that’s where we are supposed to go, regardless.”

“Wait...” said the Magistra as they turned to go. She was back on one elbow, her other hand pointing unsteadily at the wall. She waved her hand and a chest of drawers appeared where she had been pointing. “Take book...in dresser. John...must have it.”

Ghorza opened the top drawer and removed a large hidebound book from it.

“What is it?” asked Dantes.

Ghorza looked up, shock evident on her face. “It’s her spell book.”