The Way Into Darkness: Book Three of The Great Way (50 page)

“With the block? I already taught that spell to Doctor Twofin, and he’s the tutor, not me. I think I proved that with Kinz. When he returns, he should… What?”

“Doctor Twofin isn’t going to be welcome here for a long time. He can never come back.”
 

She sighed again. “He told me. I wish there was a way to make people see common sense.”
 

He killed children. It doesn’t have to be his fault.
But he couldn’t say that to her. She loved the old scholar too much.
 

They descended two flights of stairs into the catacomb of the Twofin holdfast. If the girl thought it odd that the sleepstones were so inaccessible, she didn’t give any indication.
 

They passed through the hearth room where they were greeted by the same servant who had assisted Tejohn when he needed to heal. She examined Cazia’s face by firelight. “There is a bit of red swelling at this end of the cut,” she said, as she studied the girl’s forehead. “It’s good that you came, but these injuries are a few days old. They may leave scars.”

Cazia Freewell smiled. “Good. I’d hate for all of them to be on the inside.”

Three days later at mid day, they walked together through the Marsh Gate into the Sweeps.

Tejohn had assured her that they weren’t going far and he meant it. They walked out of the pass straight toward the water, then angled eastward out of the view of the sentries at the gate. Tejohn wore the same battered armor he’d collected from the Twofin storeroom, but Cazia had ditched her robes and armor for hiking skirts and a jacket. Her only weapons were the mace--newly repaired and improved, he could see--and a quiver of darts from Twofin’s armory.
 

“The Freewells wanted to send a whole squad of spears with me,” she said, “but they really couldn’t spare them. We didn’t have enough trained soldiers to patrol the wall as it is.”
 

Tejohn couldn’t help but notice that she’d said
We
instead of
They
. “Even with militias?”
 

“They don’t like militias there. Don’t trust them, I guess, because they might cause a coup. Plus, the tradition is that a soldier is set apart from the rest of society, blah blah blah. They don’t let women fight with them, either, except as archers. It’s like they
want
to be conquered.”
 

“The Twofins had similar qualms. No matter. You’ll be back among them soon.”
 

Tejohn supposed he could have requested a dozen spears for this little expedition, too, but like Cazia, he didn’t think the holdfast could spare them. Besides, this was a mission of peace.
 

They spent the rest of the day talking about governance and planning for the future. The girl was very worried about food and the coming harvest, which she was right to be. Neighboring lands had crops growing untended in the fields, and Cazia wanted an army large enough to harvest it.
 

To his delight, Tejohn found himself being drilled on tactics. Would it be better to send out squads to deliver harvests to the holdfast, or to simply move the entire populace closer to the farms? How many archers should there be? How many spears to guard the workers? What formations?
 

They went back and forth about it for a large part of the afternoon. Should they combine the Twofin and Freewell peoples or keep them separate? Move like nomads from holdfast to holdfast, or stick to their homes?
 

It didn’t take long for them to get close enough to Lake Windmark to smell the marshes, even in the Sweeps winds. Dart in hand, Cazia was clearly uneasy about being so close to the alligaunts’ hunting grounds—the tall, rustling grasses didn’t reassure Tejohn much, either.
 

Still, when nightfall came, they lit a fire and ate meatbread at the base of an ancient crooked oak. Cazia insisted they should sleep in the branches, and despite his assurances that they would be safe on their first night, they did.
 

In the darkness, he was sorely tempted to confess his grief over the grunts he had killed, especially those who had not yet transformed. Yes, at the time, he didn’t know there would be a cure, but if he had just let them go--had not given in to his urge to fight and kill--they might have been cured. They might have had lives.

Instead, he kept his silence. As capable as she was, she was still too young to share his burdens, and it would have been unseemly of him to ask.
 

Besides, he knew what he would say to her if she came to him with a similar confession, and he knew it would be wise. He could tell a friend that they had done their best and should leave it in the past, but could never extend that sort of forgiveness to himself.
 

In the morning, they found alligaunt tracks and several piles of stones. Just like before.
 

“They skip some numbers but not others,” Tejohn explained. “At first, I thought it was some sort of message, like
Build us a house made of eleven stones,
but eventually, I realized the one thing the piles had in common was that they couldn’t be split evenly.”
 

“Well,” Cazia said, staring down at the arrangement, “you can split five stones into five equal piles, but you can do that with any of them, so maybe it doesn’t count. Hm.”
 

“After I solved it, they came out of the water and beckoned to me, the way humans would. The way you would call to a friend.”
 

“And you didn’t go to them?” She was smirking at him.
 

“I would have, actually, but I’d already climbed aboard the cart with you and your two friends.”
 

“Oh! I remember that now!”
 

“It seems to me that we could take their little test again and see what they wanted from us.” She gave him a look. “I swear they looked peaceful. All we have to do is wait to see what they want; we have dry ground behind us if we need to retreat. We must warn them about The Blessing and seek an alliance. You have those translation stones?”
 

“Right here.” She patted her pocket.
 

Tejohn sighed. “If my hunch is correct, these creatures will have wisdom at least the equal of our own, if not more. With luck, they will be able to tell us something useful about the grunts--where they came from, maybe, or how they were created. If not, an offer of help against The Blessing might create another alliance.”
 

She took to it without any prompting, collecting stones to continue the row of piles. She created piles of seventeen, nineteen, twenty-three, twenty-nine, and thirty-one without any of the fumbling or second thoughts he’d gone through. Hmf. He would have liked to see her struggle at least as much as he had, but that was the difference between a scholar and some old soldier, apparently.
 

“That had better be enough,” she said, walking uphill toward him and wiping the mud from her hands, “because that was boring.”
 

||It is enough.||
 

The voice was low and whispering, almost below their ability to hear. Cazia looked around, readying a dart.
 

“I heard it, too,” Tejohn said. “A voice said it was enough.”
 

||Come to the water’s edge. Do not fear.||
 

They looked at each other. The words came out of nowhere, as if the entire world were speaking to them. It was like hearing the words of a god. Now was their chance to flee uphill to the Marsh Gate, but did they dare offend that voice? Tejohn didn’t think they could outrun a spirit.
 

Cazia turned toward the water. “Well,” she said, “if the horrible disembodied voice tells you not to be afraid...”
 

“Right.” Together, they walked down toward the tall marshes. Mace tucked into her belt, Cazia held a dart in her hand. Tejohn unslung his shield.
 

From among the tall grasses, a figure rose up. At first, it seemed to be taller than a man. Then it folded forward….
 

It was an alligaunt. It stood on its hind legs, then tilted its long, narrow head to look at them.
 

Tejohn lowered the point of his spear, then saw a second creature stand out of the grasses, then a third, then three more all at once. More and more of the creatures were standing upright until there were at least three dozen. Tejohn put his spearpoint up. They couldn’t fight this many enemies at once, if they truly were enemies. Perhaps he should have brought those Twofin spears after all.
 

He was close enough to see that their ridged skin was not just greenish black; it was actually covered with swirls of those two colors. They were incredibly intricate, but Tejohn couldn’t bring himself to admire them for long. He kept being distracted by the alligaunt’s jagged teeth.

Last chance to run.
But of course, they weren’t going to run. They didn’t come down here to flee from whatever they discovered. The real question was whether these creatures were the source of the voice or its servants.

||One for each.||
 

The nearest of the alligaunts raised a long-handled tool, and Tejohn repressed his instinctive response to raise his shield and
attack
, but he held himself still.
Not a weapon.
The alligaunts leaned forward like wild animals ready to pounce, but they weren’t wild. And the tool was not a weapon; instead of a blade, it ended in a broad wooden bowl. It looked more like a spoon for a baby sea giant than a weapon.

Inside the bowl were two tiny gems. Cazia took one. The alligaunt offering them hissed.

“Yes,” Cazia said immediately, “I can.”
 

She nodded at the second gem and Tejohn took it. He slung his shield and held it in his hand.
 

“Good,” the alligaunt facing them said. It handed the tool to one of the creatures behind it. “The other way of speaking is unpleasant for everyone, and it is impossible for the speaker to be known for his words. Do you understand this?” Its eyes were like little black stones.

“We’re familiar with this magic,” Cazia said. “How long can we use it safely?”
 

The alligaunt bowed its head, exposing a dull iron band around the cap of its skull. It looked a bit like a crown. “As long as you want. You could use it every moment for a thousand years without harm. Now, there is much for your people and mine to discuss.”
 

“Indeed there is,” Tejohn said. He could recognize that the way the alligaunts stood looked bemused and condescending, as though he and Cazia had come to surrender their lives and lands. “We’ve come to warn you about a danger spreading across the land, a transformation curse that affects intelligent creatures of every type. We want to share what we know of the threat to help you protect yourselves and your children.”
Also, we need your help.
 

The alligaunts looked at each other, seemingly in surprise. “This is not the place for the process.” It seemed only one of them was willing or authorized to talk. “Clasp hold of that gem. It is important that you both hold on very tightly. Are you doing that? Very tightly and without letting go?”
 

Tejohn and Cazia barely had a moment to agree before many lariats were cast at them. The ropes flew so quickly, they barely had time to duck.
 

Not that it did any good. The lariats seemed to track him like living things, looping over both Tejohn’s wrists and his torso, pinning his upper arms to his sides. Cazia fared no better.
 

They were both yanked off their feet into the thick marshes. The alligaunts dragged them toward the lake. Tejohn’s spear was torn from his grip and his shield wrenched at his shoulder. He couldn’t see Cazia through the reeds, but he could hear her screaming.
 

I talked her into this.
“Take a—”
Breath,
he’d meant to say, but they were past the shallow mud and into the water already. His failed warning had prevented him from taking a breath of his own. He shut his mouth as the rank water splashed into the back of his throat, and tried to determine how many moments of life he had left.
 

His knife. He needed his knife to cut these ropes. He tried to spin and brace his feet against the mud, but the ground suddenly fell away. They had passed into deep water. Tejohn’s shield took too much of the force of the water when he tried to twist his torso; he didn’t have the strength to resist. He forced himself to open his eyes, but the feel of the water against them was so alien, he squeezed them shut again.

It was too much. His wrists were pinned against his chest, his helm squashed down onto his head. He was wearing steel; even if he could somehow get his knife to his hand, cutting the rope would mean he’d sink to the muddy depths while Cazia Freewell was dragged out of his reach.

He had to cut her bindings first, but that was impossible. He didn’t know where she was. He couldn’t even reach his knife.
 

Cazia would be safe in her own holdfast if not for him. She should have had her whole life ahead of her, leading her father’s people against the grunts.
 

That path had been lost because of him. She was going to drown because of him.
 

Maybe the alligaunts meant to drown him alone. Maybe they would sense the magic in her and pull her to the surface. He opened his eyes for a moment, hoping to see her one last time, but that was impossible.
 

His lungs burned. The alligaunts--Fire and Fury, but they were strong swimmers--were pulling him down, deeper into the darkness.
Not the girl. Kill me, but let her live.
 

Laoni would never know what had happened to him.
 

Deep water. On Kal-Maddum, deep water was the realm of darkness and of monsters. He’d always thought he’d die in battle, falling on the blades of other men. Instead, he was going to drown in the lightless depths, then be torn apart and devoured. Song knew he had already reached the point where, even if he could have cut himself free, he could not have swum to the surface.