The Lodestone Trilogy (Limited Edition) (The Lodestone Series) (37 page)

At length there was a single rap on the door. A tall figure entered without waiting for permission and closed the door behind him. The figure strode over the rough wooden floor to stand before Mevan. Mevan gestured towards another stool. The visitor responded by pulling up the stool to sit opposite him. “Good evening, Mevan. It has been many days.”

“Indeed it has, Lord Saccath. Your duties carry you far from Chalimar, I see.” Saccath was clad in simple serge coat and black trousers such as a trader might wear. Clearly this was not an “official” visit. He did not wish to be identified as Keltar.

“I am actually on something of a private mission,” Saccath confided. “Did you encounter the fugitive band?”

Mevan nodded. “They arrived here, just as you predicted. They had a Chandara with them, of all things. I attempted to turn them away with a view to encountering them later on the road, where there would be no witnesses. Unfortunately, that fool Ernan intervened. He gave them shelter and supplies and conducted them personally to the Fire Pits.”

Saccath leaned forward. “They went down into the Pits?”

“It is true, I swear.”

Saccath put his hand to his chin, deep in thought. The cragginess of his face appeared exaggerated by light and shadow. Finally, Mevan broke in. “I’m sorry; there was no opportunity for me and my men to intercept them.”

Saccath roused himself from his deliberations. “Do not concern yourself. They will be taken care of.”

“You are not going down into the Pits after them, surely?” Mevan protested. “I lost my own brother to the Pits. They are too dangerous for any right-minded person.”

Saccath smiled thinly. “Your concern for me is touching, Mevan, but I assure you that I have no intention of chasing them all the way down there. There is no need. I am quite sure that the denizens of Kharthrun will deal with the insurgents most effectively. And in the unlikely event that any of them do survive to reach Sakara, I will be arriving there to ensure that that is the end of their journey.”

Saccath stood up. “Once again, your loyalty and service to the Prophet’s cause have proven valuable. I think that the village of Pinnar would benefit from a new headman, someone with the vision and commitment to secure the peaceful cooperation of the people. I will speak to the authorities at the keep upon my return.”

Mevan got to his feet and bowed low. “I appreciate your faith in me, sire.” As he watched Saccath turn to leave, he permitted himself a smile of grim satisfaction.

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Chapter 23

The Fire Pits insinuated themselves on Shann’s senses like an all-enveloping beast with sinews of smoke and steam. Sulphur and soot stung her eyes, invaded her nostrils and left her with a foul taste in her mouth.

They were roped together once more–a safeguard against the hazards of the Pits, Lyall had explained. The farther they travelled into the depths of Kharthrun, the more she could see the wisdom of that precaution. It seemed as if every step were fraught with potential danger.

In places, the ground over which they walked was little more than a thin crust of hard white residue that crunched beneath her boots. There was no way to tell how thick–or how thin–the crust was. One good reason for the ropes.

They passed along trails between pools of boiling mud in shades of pink and orange. Shann watched in fascination as the mud slowly bubbled and popped, like an overly thick soup. Lyall placed a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t get too close, Shann.” She nodded and they resumed their passage through this chimerical world.

Plumes of steam emanated from conical vents or fractures in the ground, drifting over the landscape like fog. Every now and then, jets of boiling water were ejected into the air from raised pools, only to die back moments later to form a bubbling, angry cauldron. It was both spectacular and frightening at the same time.

Columns of basalt rose up from the canyon floor, forming winding gaps and small twisting valleys to confound their path. Shann quickly found that after she had been turned around several times in this way, she had had no idea in which direction they were headed. It was Keris who kept them on track both by continually checking the directional lodestone she carried and by using the flying cloak to determine their bearings. After the incident two days ago, when Shann had forced the confession out of her, Keris’ position within the group had changed. Now she was out in front, leading the way, her detached arrogance replaced by settled assurance as she consulted her lodestone device and pointed confidently. “This way.” Shann was reluctantly forced to admit that without her direction, they would probably end up totally lost, condemned to wander endlessly in the ever-shifting clouds of steam. Clearly, Ernan had not been exaggerating when he said that most of those who ventured into this place never made it out again.

They were skirting an emerald green thermal pool, edged by shades of yellow and red, when Shann saw a movement out of the corner of her eye–a dark shape slipping through the water.
A fish?
She stopped without warning, pulling Lyall to a halt on the tether, and almost causing Alondo to bump into her.

Lyall walked back to her position. “What’s up?”

“Look,” Shann pointed into the water. She could now see sleek shapes of various sizes, all covered by what looked like thick scales. Thin wisps of steam were drifting over the glassy surface. “How do they survive in there with the water near to boiling? They would cook, surely.”

By this time Keris had doubled back to investigate the disturbance. She followed their eyes. “Fish–so what?”

“What kind are they?” Lyall asked.

“I don’t know. I’m not a fish expert–why, are you hungry?”

“No, it’s just–” Shann began.

“Then let’s move on, shall we?” Keris strode off without waiting for anyone’s agreement.

“I was just curious,” Shann protested.

Lyall offered her a smile by way of compensation. “Don’t worry about it, Shann; although she does have a point. Out here, curiosity can be fatal.”

As their journey across the vast canyon floor continued, Shann saw other creatures, the likes of which she had never seen before. The fact that anything could survive in these conditions, let alone thrive, was a testament to the adaptability and tenacity of life.

There was a black thing that looked like a snake with both ends joined up, flexing its way over the ground in the shape of a figure eight.

A little farther on, a balloon-shaped creature an arm’s length in diameter floated lazily over a thermal vent. It was dull orange in colour with black mottling. As it rotated, Shann counted four evenly spaced eyes, although she could not see a mouth. It looked like a much larger version of the foul smelling ball she had encountered in the Gilah.

Shann could not resist. She ran forward and tapped Lyall on the shoulder. “What is it?”

“I think it’s a variety of maralah,” Lyall speculated, “although I confess I have never seen one anything like that size before. Maybe they are suited to the heat of the Pits?” Shann kept her eyes fixed on the balloon as they passed. It bobbed up and down over the vent and continued turning slowly, oblivious to their presence.

Eventually, they reached a level rock platform. “The suns will be setting soon,” Lyall observed. “I think we should make camp here.”

Shann untied herself from the rope and gratefully flopped down where she was.

Keris held out the lodestone device in her outstretched hand and turned slowly, checking her observations. “We are making good time,” she announced, “better than I hoped. We should reach the eastern rim as early as tomorrow. There is an easier route out of the Pits on that side.”

Shann sat back with her hands splayed against the rock and examined her surroundings. The flat rock was bounded on one side by a natural terrace of chalky white stone. In front of it, there was what looked like a deep depression in the ground. Shann got up and walked closer to get a better look. It was a large hole, a fissure which disappeared into the ground. She peered over the edge but could not see the bottom. The fuliginous interior seemed to draw her in.

She heard Lyall’s voice behind her. “Don’t get too close.”

Shann tore her eyes away and turned to rejoin the others. Keris was standing next to Lyall. She still wore the ebon tunic, trousers and flying cloak of a Keltar.
You look the part
. As Shann approached, she heard the woman make a curt remark before turning on her heel. Shann glared at Keris’ receding back for a moment and then made eye contact with Lyall.

He raised one eyebrow. “You two are going to have to learn to get on, you know.”

Shann made a sound in her throat. “She doesn’t get on with anyone. I can’t believe you swallowed her story like a piece of rotten raleketh meat.”

“I didn’t ‘swallow’ it, Shann. I told you: I merely gave her a second chance.”

“You think she deserves a second chance? What about all the things she did when she was a Keltar? Have you asked her how many people she killed?”
Or how many parents she ripped away from their children?

“That’s not fair, Shann.”
No. Leaving someone without their parents; not knowing if they are alive or dead –that’s not fair.
Lyall smiled.
“You and Keris are like two pieces of refined lodestone, repelling each other, yet unwilling to admit how similar you are.”

“I am
nothing
like her,”
Shann
fired back.

Lyall exhaled slowly. “You and she are both on a journey–not the act of putting one foot in front of another, but a journey of a different sort. You have always thought of yourself as weak. Yet with all that has happened over the past few days, you have discovered that you have strengths you never knew you had. You have fought sand scarags, escaped from a slave camp and ridden down a cliff. You are not the same person who left Corte.”

Shann’s brow furrowed. “I suppose.”

“Keris is very strong mentally and physically, but she has discovered that she has weaknesses she didn’t know she had. She too is on a journey. She too is not the same person as she was. And just as you need help to come to terms with your new strengths, she needs help to deal with her weaknesses.”

Shann smiled in spite of herself. “I think you’ve been spending too much time with Boxx. You’re starting to sound like it.”

He laughed. “I take that as a compliment.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Want to get something to eat?” They both walked over to where Boxx was lying down and Keris was examining her staff. Shann noticed that whenever they stopped, the woman always seemed to check her equipment. She was almost pathological about it. Shann looked around for Alondo but could not see him. Then she saw him climbing the terrace. Lyall spotted him at the same moment and put a hand to his mouth. “Don’t go too far.” Alondo waved to them by way of response.

All of a sudden, Shann felt a low vibration. At first it was almost subliminal, causing her to conclude that she must be imagining it. Then it rapidly grew in intensity.
Ground tremor?
She saw Keris get to her feet, knees bent, eyes casting about wildly for the source.

The ground shook under them as a massive shape broke the surface of the fissure and reared up over their heads. An ear splitting roar shook the air. A living grey nightmare of scale, tooth and claw. Piercing red rimmed eyes. Neck frills flared. Flattened head split by an immense jaw which snapped at everything that moved.
The Khathrun Serpent.

The towering titan twisted with terrifying agility, massive maw darting towards the terraced area. Shann felt as if her legs were rooted to the spot. A small voice somewhere in the back of her mind was clamouring, screaming for attention.
Alondo
. Cut off from the other side of the fissure. She could not see him. The serpent drew back for a further strike and she spotted him.
Knocked down. On his back. Hands scrabbling against the rock behind him, desperately trying to get away.

Lyall was yelling at him,
“Use the vortex arm.”
Shann could not tell whether Alondo heard him or not, but he brought his instrument to bear, fumbled an adjustment and struck the strings. A powerful torus rippled outwards and struck the gargantuan beast, knocking it backwards slightly. It split the air again with a primeval bellow of pure hatred.