Chasing Evil (7 page)

T
anner and his companions followed the orange lanterns along the cave passage, their shadows flickering and dancing on the dark walls. The clang and clatter of the armory grew louder, the air more sour with smoke, and Tanner signaled to Castor and Gwen to stop when they reached the broad opening of the cavern. He saw the anger on both of their faces as they heard the boys screaming and men shouting.

“We need to keep low to the ground,” Tanner hissed. They dropped to their stomachs and crawled to the first boulder. When they were close enough to see the armory, Gwen gasped.

“They're so thin,” she murmured.

Castor's fists were clenched, his jaw set.

Below, the boys were still working, the guards pacing among them with clubs. One led a prowling varkule on a chain. It snapped its jaws left and right, bringing panicked wails from the workers. Captain Brutus cracked his whip past the head of a dark-haired boy who was pouring molten metal into a mold. The boy flinched as the whip just missed his face.

“Faster!” Brutus shouted. “Finish that ax head before I come back or I'll cut off one of your ears. Do you hear me?”

“Y-yes,” the boy said.

Captain Brutus stalked away and pointed at a boy working the furnaces. Each time furnace sparks flared, Brutus's armor glittered a bloody crimson. “Move that ore. Faster!”

The captain's back was turned — this was their chance. Tanner carefully creeped around the rocks, slowly …

“Now!” Castor said, and he darted down, toward a line of workers hammering at the forge. There was a guard in between Castor and the boys.

“Castor!” Tanner hissed. What was the fool doing?

But it was too late to stop him. Tanner grabbed Gwen's hand and they ran down, too. Staying low to the ground, they rushed across the open cavern, then stopped as the guard started to turn toward them — Castor froze in plain view.

“Look out!” Tanner hissed. He and Gwen ran directly toward Castor and the guard. The boys saw what was happening. Tanner swiped his hand at them:
Stay quiet.
He grabbed Castor's arm and hustled Gwen and Castor in a quick sidestep around the guard's back to the forge. The boys stared as Tanner, Castor, and Gwen slipped beside them.

“Now what?” Gwen panted.

Tanner drew his own sword and placed it on the anvil, then grabbed a hammer from a nearby rack. “Pretend to work.”

Gwen found another hammer and they took it in turns to bring them down on the anvil. Castor picked up a shovel and began to hurl coal into the furnace grate.

“They'll see,” one of the captive boys whispered to his neighbor. “We'll get in trouble for this….”

Another boy murmured, “What should we do?”

Tanner swung his hammer high and brought it down on the anvil. In between blows he looked around him, trying to spot a pattern to the guards' and Captain Brutus's movements.
We don't have much time,
he thought.
We need to make our move before the guards spot us.
He counted two guards by the rear cages and another seven watching the work lines. They were all armed with clubs and dressed in armor. But the captive boys outnumbered the guards at least five to one, and maybe ten to one if he included the ones in the cages.

Gwen was watching Captain Brutus, not paying attention as she pretended to hammer. She bent her head and a coil of golden hair snaked out at her nape, falling down her back.

“Gwen, your hair!” Castor hissed.

She froze, dropped her hammer, and stuffed her braids back down her cloak. The guards were still patrolling, oblivious, but the boys working around them had noticed. They turned to the dark-haired boy Captain Brutus had threatened, as if he was in charge.

“Should we tell the guards?” one boy asked him. “Brutus will whip us if we don't.”

The dark-haired boy shook his head. He was staring at Castor, and Tanner saw hope in his eyes. “You followed us from Colton,” said the boy in a shaking voice. “You've come to rescue us!”

Before Tanner could intervene, the other boys stopped working and stepped around Castor.

“He must be!” another boy gasped. “Why else would Castor be here?”

The boys' voices rose as the news passed through their ranks, and Captain Brutus looked around. He came striding over, his armor creaking. Tanner kept his eyes on his anvil, not daring to look up.

“No talking, or I'll nail your tongues to the wall!” the captain bellowed.

They turned back to their work, hammering in silence until Brutus turned away.

“Yes,” Tanner said quietly, watching Brutus's massive back retreating. “We're going to get you all out of here. But don't stop working!”

Captain Brutus looked over at them again, but the boys were all hammering in silence.

“I'm Corrin,” the dark-haired boy whispered.

“Corrin?” Gwen exclaimed. “From Colton? Your grandmother told us about you!”

Sudden tears sprang up in Corrin's eyes, spilling over his cheeks and leaving trails through the soot that stained his cheeks. He wiped them away with his ragged sleeve. “My grandmother is alive! She survived!”

Gwen nodded, pressing his hand with her own.

“Shh!” Castor said sharply. “Be quiet.” He turned to Tanner. “So, what's the plan?”

Tanner motioned to Gwen, Castor, and Corrin to lean close to him. “Castor, you and I will take out Captain Brutus next time he comes past. Gwen, you open the cages.” Tanner looked at Corrin. “You and the other boys need to attack the guards.”

Corrin nodded eagerly. “I understand. But what about the others who've been taken to the eastern tunnels?”

“I'll handle that,” said Tanner.
Though I'm not quite sure how.

Captain Brutus was taunting the boys in the cages, flicking his whip between the bars. He turned and started to make his way back toward the forges. Tanner felt his heart racing.
If this doesn't work,
he thought,
we're all going to meet our deaths in these tunnels.

Aloud, he murmured, “Arm the boys, Corrin.”

Corrin nodded and passed finished swords down the line of boys.

“Now,”
Castor said, his neck and face tense.

“Not yet,” Tanner hissed sharply.

Captain Brutus came closer. He was at the next furnace….

“You,” Captain Brutus said, pointing his whip at Corrin. “Are you finished making that sword yet? Or do you owe me an ear?”

Tanner saw Gwen tense. Castor was holding the coal shovel with both hands, ready to swing it. They all kept their faces down, and Tanner slid his hand toward the hilt of his sword. Captain Brutus was only a few paces away.

Almost,
Tanner thought. His grip tightened on his sword.

“Hey, boy!” Captain Brutus shouted at Tanner. “Hammer that blade, you stupid little maggot!” Then he stopped in his tracks. “Where did you get that sword?” he snarled. “That blade isn't from this armory!”

Tanner gave a tiny nod to Gwen and Castor, and raised the sword.

“Go!”

T
anner vaulted the forge toward Captain Brutus, and Castor charged from the right with the shovel.

Brutus raised the whip over his shoulder. “You little fools!”

He whirled toward Castor, who tried to dodge him. Tanner winced as the whip sliced over Castor's head. He leaped forward, stabbing at the captain, but the big man turned aside, and his sword only gouged across his breastplate.

Brutus thumped him with a meaty fist, sending Tanner stumbling toward his friend. Castor threw the shovel aside and drew his sword, but the captain laughed, an ugly noise that thundered around the cavern.

“Drop your weapons, and I'll only cut off one of your hands. I'll even let you choose which one.”

He paced toward Castor and Tanner, flicking his whip and forcing them away from the forge, toward a rock wall. “I'll take your fingers off, boys. I'll dip them in your own blood” — he tapped his armor — “and add them to my collection.”

As Brutus forced him back, Tanner could see beyond him that Gwen had slipped away from the forge toward the cages. She was gesturing desperately to Corrin, but he and the other boys were all frozen in their spots, watching the fight through wide, frightened eyes. Two guards must have spotted the swords in their hands, because they walked over with their clubs. Another came from a different part of the cavern, leading the varkule. The animal's ears were erect and the striped fur on his spine stood up as he snarled, sending out a putrid smell.

The plan's not working,
Tanner thought, panic bubbling through him.
If the boys don't fight, there's no way we can get out of here….

Brutus's whip snaked through the air again. It caught the heel of Castor's boot and pulled him off balance. He landed with a thud, his sword clattering on the ground. Brutus snapped the whip and it cracked against the stone floor in a spray of tiny rocks, a hairs-breadth from Castor's face.

Tanner raised his sword, ready to attack, but Brutus was surprisingly quick. He lashed out, and Tanner felt the cut of the whip around his wrist. Brutus grinned as he pulled Tanner toward him. With his other hand he seized a hammer from beside the anvil. “I'll bash your brains out, boy!”

Tanner could do nothing as he was dragged across the floor. His sword arm, held tight, was useless. Brutus raised the hammer. On the ground at the captain's feet, Tanner saw Castor shaking his head free of dizziness. He reached into his belt for his dagger. With a lunge, he buried the tip in Brutus's foot.

The captain bellowed in pain and dropped his whip, falling backward to clutch at the dagger. Tanner untangled his hand from the leather. His arm was soaked with blood.

“Now!” Gwen yelled.

Tanner saw her draw a pair of throwing axes from her tunic and charge the nearest guard. She chopped into his club with one ax and swung her other ax at his head — he dodged, but she yanked away his club, which was still embedded in her ax. “Help me,” she called to Corrin. “We're here to get you out, but you have to fight — all of you!”

Corrin and the other boys raised their swords. They ran into an attack, crying out angrily, their chests heaving as blades were brought down on the guards. In the chaos, Tanner saw the varkule rear as the boys swarmed over it, stabbing and hacking. Lips curled back from his yellow teeth as the boys punched and stabbed; soon the varkule lay in the dirt with blood pooling around his fur. The boys swarmed over the body, raising their blades against soldiers who backed away, eyes wide.

“Hurry!” Tanner shouted, as Gwen hacked at the thick cage bars. “We need to get to the eastern tunnels before it's too late.”

The cage splintered and cracked, but it didn't break.

Castor was cornered, blood trickling down his shoulder, his sword gripped with both hands. Captain Brutus limped toward him. “I haven't finished with you yet.”

“Hey!” Tanner called. “Brutus!”

The captain spun toward him. Tanner feinted left, and when Brutus swung his whip, Tanner leaped right, onto a coal cart. The cart capsized behind him as Tanner jumped off, flipping in midair to bring his feet forward — and slamming his boots into the center of Brutus's chest. The impact knocked Tanner down, but it also rattled Brutus's breastplate loose. The captain tripped and fell backward with a cry.

Castor brought his blade around and sliced Brutus's whip in half. It fell to the ground uselessly.

There was a splintering sound of wood cracking. Gwen had broken open the first cage. Snakes slithered across the cave floor toward dark corners. A boy scrambled out, and despite his starved, emaciated limbs, he grabbed a hammer from a nearby rack and charged at an injured guard crawling across the ground with his sword. “Get back!” ordered the guard, but the boy batted the guard's sword clean out of his grasp. Without hesitation, the boy brought the hammer back up and smashed it into the guard's face. Blood spurted from his nostrils as he fell backward. Other boys drove their blades into his side in fast, deadly stabs. He collapsed facedown, and lay motionless.

But more guards streamed into the cavern, carrying swords and shields. They must have come from deeper in the mines, alerted by the sounds.

Corrin led the boys in a war cry as they grabbed rocks and swords, hammers and clubs, to help Gwen open the remaining cages, breaking the bars to free the boys trapped inside.

Captain Brutus climbed to his feet. His breastplate slipped off and banged to the floor, exposing a black tunic. Gesturing with his ruined whip, he yelled at the incoming guards. “Kill them! Get into your formations. They're only children — cut them down.”

“Gwen!” Tanner yelled. “Group the boys. Don't let them give up.”

Gwen gave him a sharp nod and directed Corrin and some of the older boys toward the new attackers. She'd lost one of her axes but raised another defiantly and drew her rapier with her free hand. She shouted across at Tanner, “We can't hold them for long!”

Tanner just had time to duck as something flew past his head and clattered into the forge behind him. Brutus was using his massive strength to hurl shields from a heap of armor at them. In between throws, he ordered the guards to fight their way across the cavern and to form groups, back-to-back. The guards rushed the boys, knocking them back in a clatter of swords. They cried out in pain and fell as the guards trampled them to the ground. The tide was turning again.

“You can't win,” Brutus sneered at Tanner and Castor.

“Oh, I think we can,” Castor said, and he nodded to Tanner. “Where's Firepos?”

Of course!
Tanner thought. The tunnel was small, but the Beasts might be able to squeeze through — it was worth a try.

“Firepos!” he shouted.

Gwen heard him and joined the cry. “Gulkien!”

Brutus laughed, a low, ragged sound, and casually walked to a weapon rack. He seemed to have no fear of either Beast and fixed his eyes on Tanner and Castor as he grabbed a heavy club that was shaped like a sharp, grinning skull, with long black spikes on the end. The spikes gleamed in the orange light cast from the torches lining the cave walls.

Brutus pointed the weapon at Castor, then at Tanner. “Now. Who wants to die first?”

Tanner charged, swinging for Brutus's throat, and when Brutus blocked his blade, Castor came in fast, stabbing and swiping in quick thrusts that made Brutus stagger backward. His club was short, but he moved it in efficient, defensive circles, expertly knocking their swords away. When the club connected with Tanner's blade, his whole arm shook with the impact.

“Peasants!” he spat. “You don't deserve to live.”

But Tanner could see the panic in his face. They were pushing Brutus back. He couldn't attack, could only defend himself from their blows.
We need to get closer,
Tanner thought.

Brutus banged Castor's sword down again, twisted back, and stopped Tanner's sword near his chest. He shoved Tanner away and blocked Castor again. They had nearly forced Brutus right against the wall — and Tanner saw his chance.

“Castor, brace yourself!”

Immediately understanding, Castor put his hands to his knees to create a springboard. Tanner ran and jumped, planting his feet on Castor's back and launching himself at Brutus. Brutus swung his club and missed — and Tanner kicked his heel into the man's chin, sending his head jerking back. Tanner landed in the dirt behind him.

“You filthy little runt!” Blood ran down Brutus's face. Tanner came up behind him and wrapped an arm around his throat, bringing his sword down and twisting it behind Brutus's club, hooking it the same way Castor had trapped the skinny boy's sword back in Colton. Tanner yanked up, but Brutus was too strong. The captain's free arm locked on the back of Tanner's head, his fingers grasping his neck. Both of Brutus's arms were up in the air — his left gripping the locked club, his right on Tanner's throat —

“Now!” Tanner choked out.

With a roar, Castor drove his sword through Brutus's chest.

The captain made a startled, wet noise. His fingers fell limply from Tanner's neck, and he dropped his club. As Castor pulled out his sword, the captain crumpled to his knees. Tanner jumped free and watched Brutus slump. He choked out a clot of blood. “You …” His lips moved, but no further sound emerged.

Castor stepped back from the body. He stretched his wounded shoulder and wiped the blood from his sword. “That's for the men of Colton,” he said.

Fighting for breath, Tanner stared at Brutus's sagging corpse. The blood pooling around the captain's gaping mouth was already darkening.

Gulkien and Firepos were corralling the last of the soldiers, who realized that fighting on was useless. They dropped their swords. Gwen and Corrin gathered the boys around the forge. All of them carried weapons, and most were smeared with the blood of their captors.

“We did it!” Castor shouted.

Gwen looked at Tanner, her face tense. She was thinking the same thing.

It's not over yet.