Firestorm (The Sword of Light Trilogy Book 2) (17 page)

Caelin still could not bring himself to believe his king had been swayed to Archon’s cause. He had always been a good man, loyal to the Gods and his people. But there was no doubting it – something had changed in the man. Caelin’s homecoming still rankled him. He had expected disappointment from the king, not open scorn.

He broke into a run as he rounded the next corner, sprinting for the alleyway halfway down the street. Water splashed beneath his feet, the remains of last night’s rain. The wind whistled in his ears as he picked up speed, his boots thumping the bricked street. Leaning low, he ducked into the alleyway and out of sight.

Once hidden, he did not stop to check if the tracker had seen him. He picked his way through the alley, jumping over discarded garbage and a dead rat, before swinging round the next corner. Quickly, he made his way through the network of alleyways connecting the streets of Ardath, heading for a nondescript building where the others waited.

The owner of the building did not know he was coming.

When he emerged back into the open streets, Gabriel and Inken stood across the street waiting for him. The street was quiet, cast in the shadow of the city walls looming behind the houses.

Inken smiled when she saw Caelin and moved across to join him. “Looks like you drew the short straw.”

“I thought he might choose me. I’m the one they know. A good thing, since I know these streets better than either of you.”

“That’s a bold statement,” Inken laughed. “You’d be surprised where my hunts have taken me.”

“If you too are done competing with one another, shouldn’t we get this over with – before someone figures us out?” Gabriel suggested.

Caelin nodded and they moved towards one of the houses. At first glance the building looked non-descript, with plain stone walls and a tile roof. But as they approached, Caelin saw small hints of the owner’s wealth. Well-kept gardens suggested the house had fulltime help, and the trimmings of the eaves were edged with marble. The door stood closed, the thick oak shining in the cool sun. An intricate mural dedicated to the earth had been carved into the wood, another sign of the occupant’s wealth.

Inside was the one councillor they knew more about than any other. Unfortunately, she was also the councillor whose loyalty they doubted more than any other.

The house belonged to Katya.

Raising his hand, Caelin banged on the door, and waited.

Silence came from within, followed by the creak of wooden floorboards and the faint shuffle of somebody moving inside. The sounds ceased when they reached the door, as the person inside placed their eye to the spyhole.

Caelin smiled and waved.

After several long seconds, there came a clack as the bolt was unlocked and the door swung open.

Katya stood in the door way, arms folded across her chest. She scowled at Caelin, eyebrow raised. She wore tight fitting clothing that hugged her supple frame and long black boots stretching up to her knees.

“Caelin, I wasn’t expecting you,” Katya growled. “How can I help you?” she stood stiff, clearly angry at the unexpected intrusion.

Swallowing his doubts, Caelin answered. “Katya, I know things went poorly with you and the king in the throne room. But I am here to ask you for another chance. Please, help us to see King Fraser, help me explain.”

“And why would I do that?” she hissed, one hand clenched on the door, prepared to slam it in their faces. “If you wish to go before the council again, you will have to book an appointment with the clerks.”

Caelin raised his hands, heart pounding in his chest. “Wait, don’t, please. Look, I know you don’t want to listen. I know you have a different plan. But at least hear us out first. Let us sit down like adults and weigh up the options. If yours is truly the better approach, then let the king see that for himself.”

Katya stepped from the house, anger flashing in her eyes. “You have no idea what the king is planning. Who are you, a mere sergeant, to advise him on the most sensitive of military matters?

Caelin stared her down. “I may be young, and only a sergeant. But I am no green kid enlisted in the army. This is my life. And I have seen the enemy, I have seen the power of just one of his servants. It is beyond anything I have ever witnessed from the Magickers at your command. Greater even than Alastair. And the demon grows stronger by the day.”

Katya paused, uncertainty flashing across her face. Then she bared her teeth, the steel returning to her eyes. “Even so, if you wish to see the king, this is not the way –”

“They have locked us out,” Caelin interrupted. “The clerks ignore our petitions and we are followed day and night. Someone does not wish us to see the king,” he paused, studying the woman before him, weighing her up. Could she be trusted, or was there more behind her anger. Taking a breath, he risked a gamble. “We believe there are traitors in the council; others like Balistor who have been turned by Archon.”

Katya stared him down. “And do you think I am one of these traitors.”

“I don’t know,” Caelin replied.

The silence stretched out, their gazes locked in a mental war. Caelin stared deep into her hazel eyes, searching for a hint of doubt. But he could see no sign of treachery there.

At last Katya blinked and looked away. She opened her mouth to speak.

A shout came from above, drowning out her words. Caelin looked up and saw guardsmen racing across the battlements atop the wall.

Even from this distance, he could see the panic in their eyes.

Enala’s stomach swirled as solid ground materialised beneath her feet and her body lurched to a sudden stop. Red hot pain streaked through her head. Her knees crumpled, the strength fleeing from her trembling muscles. Another heave of her stomach, and Enala threw up the measly remainders of her last meal.

A few minutes later, Enala finally took a great shuddering breath and sat back. Groaning, she wiped her mouth and stood on shaky legs. Looking around, she very nearly threw up again.

Piles of human bones littered the barren earth. The empty eye sockets of broken skulls glared up at them. Rusty blades and broken bows lay scattered amidst the piles, but not a shred of cloth or flesh remained. A blood red sky stretched overhead and the air smelt of baked dirt and death.

Enala stumbled backwards, a shiver running through her, fear screaming for her to flee this defiled place. She sucked in a breath, the air stifling, not a trace of wind to be felt. Stark white cliffs rose on either side of them, hedging them in. A single path cut through the bones, leading deeper into the narrow valley.

A rattle came from nearby as Eric stood. Enala’s heart sank when she saw the fear on his face.

“What’s wrong?” she whispered, unwilling to disturb the slumber of the dead surrounding them.

“My magic, it’s not going to help us here.”

“
What?
” Enala tried to control the tremor in her voice, but failed. “What do you mean? Laurel couldn’t be…”

“No, not Laurel. It’s this place. I can’t sense anything of the Sky here – no rain or wind or
anything
. It’s empty. I’m powerless in this place.”

Enala stared. “What do we do?”

Eric hesitated, and then a hardness replaced the fear in his eyes. “Whatever we have too. There’s no going back. We have no weapons, so our only chance is to evade the creature that lurks here. If it comes to it though, I will distract it while you run. There is a granite arch at the end of the valley. It leads to Kalgan. No matter what happens, you have to reach it,” Enala opened her mouth to argue, but Eric raised his hand. “There’s no time to fight about this. Come on, time passes strangely here and the longer we hesitate the more likely it is the fiend will find us.”

He walked past her and started down the track into the valley. Bone fragments and gravel crunched beneath his feet, raising the hackles on Enala’s neck. Shivering, she pushed down her fear and followed after him.

It took them ten long minutes to escape the boneyard. Enala winced with every step, disgust at their trespass rising up from her depths of her soul. A cold sweat stuck to her skin, useless in the stifling heat. She walked carefully, shuddering at the grinding of bones beneath her boots.

When they finally made it clear the going became easier, although gravel still slid beneath their feet on the treacherous slope. The cliffs closed in on either side, the valley narrowing to a thin canyon. Boulders dotted the hillslope, as though dropped there by giants. In places they clumped together to block the canyon, forcing them to clamber over the colossal rocks. Elsewhere they had to hold their breath to squeeze between them.

Enala soon realised the path had once been a stream bed, its waters long vanished with whatever magic had cursed this world. She saw then where the racing waters had sliced into the cliffs, leaving deep under hangs in the white rock.

She shivered.
What happened to this place?

They continued on. Without the sun there was no knowing what bearing they travelled on, but it made no difference here. There was only one direction for them to go. They must have walked for hours, but the empty sky gave no indication of the passage of time. Enala’s lungs burned, the air suffocating, the heat overwhelming. The little water in their skins was all but gone.

Ahead, Eric came to a sudden halt. Enala joined him, a grim dread settling in her stomach. Before them the path fell away, as though someone had taken a knife to the earth itself. A near sheer drop plummeted to the valley floor more than a hundred feet below. Loose gravel covered the slope all the way to the bottom.

As Enala stepped back from the edge a chunk of stones broke loose. They tumbled down the slope, picking up speed and disturbing more as they went. Their clatter echoed from the canyon walls, the rumble quickly growing to a roar. Enala winced as the landslide reached the bottom and spread out across the valley floor.

“This wasn’t here when Alastair and Thomas passed this way,” Eric whispered. “What do we do?”

Enala grimaced. “There’s only one way to traverse a gravel slope. We have them in the mountains of Chole, though I’ve never seen one so steep. We have to run.”

“
What?
”

“It’s the only way to take them. If you try to walk down, the gravel will give way and you’ll fall. If you’re lucky, you’ll only hurt your backside. If not, you might fall all the way to the bottom or be buried by the gravel. When you run, you’re less likely to slip backwards. And even if you trip, your other foot can still catch you before you fall.”

Eric eyed her, disbelief written across his face. “You cannot be serious?”

“Trust me, it’s the only way,” she smiled. “I’ll go first.”

Eric inhaled. “Just looking at it from here, the height has my head spinning. I hope you’re right.”

“Me too,” she grinned. “Wait until I reach the bottom before you follow. Otherwise the rocks you dislodge might catch up to me,” she glanced at him. “See you on the other side.”

Without another word, she leapt from the edge.

The air whipped through her hair and her stomach twisted as she dropped several feet. When she struck the gravel slope, her legs almost crumpled under the shock of the impact. Stones erupted around her, slipping beneath her boots, and she began to slide. She waved her arms outwards, struggling for balance as stones scattered in every direction.

When she began to slow, Enala leapt again. Twisting in the air, she turned her hips to land with one foot stretched out in front. Dust billowed up with the impact, but an instant later she was airborne again, propelling herself back into clear air. Sweat beaded her forehead and dripped into her eyes, but she could not afford a second to wipe it away.

Squinting through the dust and tears, she continued down.

Gravel filled her boots, but with no time to dislodge it, she gritted her teeth and ignored its sharp bite. Every bound sent her flying, plummeting in free fall for long seconds before she crashed back down. She fought to keep her balance, instinct spinning her to absorb the shock of each landing. A single mistake and she would be done.

When she finally reached the bottom, Enala sank to her knees and sucked in a long breath. Dust rushed down her throat, sending her into a coughing fit. Stumbling to her feet she retreated down the valley, away from the dust. Once clear she turned and looked back up the slope.

Eric still stood at the top, his expression unreadable from such a distance. She waved a hand and he gave a short nod. After a moment’s hesitation, he leapt from the edge. His first bound did not carry him far, but stones still exploded outward as his boots struck the slope. His arms windmilled as he slid, struggling to keep his balance.

Just as Enala thought he would stop, Eric leapt again, further this time. The dust rose up, concealing him in a cloud before he whipped back into view, picking up speed as he raced towards her. With each leap and bound he drew closer, his feet barely touching the gravel sending him soaring again. A grin flashed on his face.

Enala couldn’t believe it; Eric was enjoying his headlong race down the slope.

Then as Eric drew close to halfway, his smile turned to sudden terror. As he landed, Eric shrieked and his feet collapsed beneath him. He toppled forwards, his foot caught on some hidden obstruction. His face struck the gravel and he started to slide, arms thrust out in a hopeless attempt to regain his feet.

“No!” Enala shouted. “Get up, Eric!”

But it was too late. Even as he tumbled down the jagged stones, the hillside above him gave way. The landslide began as a dim rumble, a rattle of stones, but it quickly grew to a roar as the tonne of rocks rushed towards Eric.

Eric looked up and raised an arm in a vain attempt to protect himself.

Then the landslide struck.

Enala screamed as the tumbling mountain of rocks and stones swallowed Eric. She caught one last panicked look from him, then he was gone.

She took a trembling step towards the slope, arm stretched out in desperation, then stopped. Her eyes locked on the avalanche now rushing towards her. If she tried to reach Eric now, she would be buried along with him. Stealing herself, Enala backed away. Closing her eyes, fighting back tears, she waited for the rumbling to cease.

When she finally looked up again, the slope was empty. Not a sign remained of their passage – no hint of their footsteps or of Eric. A mound of gravel lay at the bottom of the slope, the only sign remaining of the landslide.

Swallowing her fear, Enala picked her way through the gravel and began to climb. She moved slowly, taking care not to disturb the loose stones. That quickly proved impossible. With every step she took, her boot sank deep into the shifting surface. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest as hooks of despair tore into her soul. Gritting her teeth, she struggled higher, sliding back a step for every two she took.

Eric had to be here somewhere, buried beneath the gravel. But the landslide had wiped away all sign of his passage. There was no telling where he had disappeared, or whether the landslide had carried him further down the slope.

Even so, Enala refused to surrender. She toiled her way up, her panic growing with each step.

“This cannot be happening,” Enala hissed to herself, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

Dread clutched her heart in its icy hands, turning her muscles to dust. Eric had to be alive. He would not abandon her. She could not go on alone, could not bear to lose another friend. Cracks raced through her consciousness, the madness rearing up within her.

She stumbled across the slope, searching in a mindless panic for her fallen friend.

Finally, Enala collapsed to the ground, defeated. A scream rumbled up from her chest, coming out as a choked squeak as she wrapped her arms around her knees and began to rock.

“
No, no, no, no,
” she whispered to herself. Tears spilt down her cheeks.

He can’t be gone!
Enala screamed to herself, muscles burning with exertion.

She glanced up the slope, seeking movement, desperate for a sign.

There was nothing but empty stones.

Eric was gone.

She was alone.

Enala looked down the slope, breath quivering in her throat. The madness rose again, threatening to overwhelm her, but she clung to Eric’s words. She knew what he would want her to do. He would tell her to go on, that it was up to her now. The fate of the Three Nations rested on her shoulders. She could not let them down now, not after so many had given their lives to protect her.

Summoning her courage, Enala made her way back down the treacherous slope.

She did not look back.

*************

“Well, this was a terrible mistake,” Laurel muttered to herself, watching Enala from the edge of the cliff.

From the moment she had stepped from the portal, it had been the only thought on her mind. The boneyard marking the entrance to this nightmare realm was enough to send any intruder fleeing for their lives.

As soon as she appeared, Laurel had reached within to ensure her magic still concealed her. While her power felt thin and weak, she was pleased to find it still worked. Creeping closer, she had overheard Eric’s grim pronouncement about his own magic.

At least that was something going for her. That, and the two swords she still wore at her side.

As the two made their way down the canyon, Laurel followed close behind. She fought to keep her movements silent – there was little point in revealing herself just yet. A plan had begun to take shape in her mind, but it could wait until they escaped this wasteland.

Then Eric had gone and gotten himself killed.

It had happened so quickly, Laurel almost missed it. One second the boy was picking up speed, his confidence growing with each bound. Then before anyone could so much as cry out, he was gone, buried beneath the landslide.

Now Laurel stood and watched Enala making her way back up the slope. The futility of the search was already obvious; she was risking her life for nothing. Eric was gone. Laurel almost revealed herself, if only to spare Enala the same fate as Eric.

But Enala would flee if she saw Laurel and in her precarious position that would be disastrous. Whatever happened, the girl could not die. At least not until Laurel had the chance to complete her plan.

Finally, crying in despair, Enala surrendered to the impossible task and made her way down. Laurel waited until she disappeared around a bend in the canyon before attempting to follow. Her invisibility would not hide the disturbance caused by her descent. Just as the two had done before her, she made her way down in leaps and bounds. Unlike Eric, she did not have any problems.