Torn: Bound Trilogy Book Two (38 page)

“What is this?” I asked.

“Escape passage for the king,” Ulric said without looking back. “Or it was for a former king. I don’t know how many people remember it’s here, but they’ll figure it out soon enough. Keep moving.”

The river’s power reverberated through me as we followed the downward-sloping tunnel under it. I’d never felt such a connection through my magic, such a need to respond.

Aren stumbled and caught himself, then motioned for the others to keep going. Kel turned back, took off his boots and wool socks, and offered them to Aren. I thought Aren would refuse, but he accepted them and slipped them on.

Ulric waited, arms folded in front of him, not saying a word. As soon as Aren was standing straight again, Ulric moved ahead.

Kel wiggled his bare toes and kept walking, untroubled by the cold and the damp. Nox shivered, and Kel put an arm around her. She leaned in and reached around to touch the handles of the daggers at the back of her belt. She interested me. She seemed competent, and Kel was obviously fond of her. Cold, though, at least when she cared to look at me. I’d ask Aren about her later.

And if I didn’t get a chance to do that, it wouldn’t matter, anyway.

The ground beneath our feet sloped upward as we reached what I felt was the middle of the river, and we climbed slowly toward the city on the other shore. The walls gradually stopped their weeping as the ground leveled out. Aren moved slowly, but steadily.

Ahead, Nox stopped and waited for us. She narrowed her eyes in the dim light, taking in Aren’s appearance and gait.

“You fool,” she muttered, but with as much concern as irritation in her voice. She pressed a hand to his forehead, and frowned. “You did use up your magic, didn’t you?” He didn’t answer, and she offered him an arm, which he refused. “Aren, have you ever been ill before? Feverish? Had an infection?”

“Nothing serious, no. Don’t worry. I just feel a little weak now. Strange.” He kept walking, with a grim expression of determination pasted to his face.

“That’s not a good thing,” Nox said, keeping pace beside him. “Your body has never had to heal without magic, has it? It’s never been without that protection. Some sickness, or whatever you’ve done to your leg…Something is racing through you at ten times the normal speed.”

Aren’s brow creased. “This information is only useful if there’s something we can do about it right now. Otherwise, moving forward should be our concern.” He spoke in tight, clipped syllables.

“I might be able to slow it, once we get back to our things.”

Aren leaned down to massage his thigh with one hand. “That will be wonderful, if we get there. Just keep walking. Please.”

Kel looked back. “For the sake of all your gods, man. Here.” Before Aren could object, Kel threw an arm around his waist.

“You’re not carrying me,” Aren said.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Aren put an arm across Kel’s broad shoulders, and they walked that way until we’d caught up with Ulric and Cassia.

We reached the end of the tunnel, a solid brick wall. Ulric felt around, frowned, and looked up, holding his light near the ceiling. A rusted padlock dangled from a cobwebbed wooden panel overhead.

No one asked Aren to try breaking the lock. Kel released him, and Aren rested against the wall. When he looked back at me, his eyes seemed unfocused, if only for a few moments.

Ulric saw it, too. Based on what Aren had told me of his father, I didn’t expect him to show compassion, but concern wouldn’t have been out of place. It was irritation I saw there, though, and my shoulders tightened.

Aren saved us,
I thought, wishing Ulric could hear.
If he has no magic, it’s our fault.

Ulric studied the lock, then slipped the iron bar he carried into the shackle of the lock and twisted hard, cracking the time-weakened metal. The lock fell toward the floor, and Cassia snatched it out of the air before it could clatter to the stones at her feet. Ulric reduced his light to a dim glow that barely illuminated our faces.

Kel stretched his arms over his head and pushed the panel up slightly. We waited, all of us listening for any sound that would indicate that someone was waiting for us. There was nothing, and no light came into the tunnel from above.

“Let me,” Nox said. Kel eased the door closed, and crouched. She climbed on his back, then pushed herself up to balance her knees on his shoulders. He stood slowly as she tangled her fingers in his hair to keep her balance. If it hurt him, he didn’t show it. She adjusted her weight, released him, and pressed her hands to the filthy wood.

She pushed up and peered out into the darkness above.

“Well?” Kel asked.

“Nothing. Boost me up.”

He held her ankles as she stepped onto his shoulders, then released her as she disappeared through the trapdoor, leaving it open behind her. Soft shuffling noises drifted down. Nothing urgent or concerning, but Nox didn’t indicate what was happening. Minutes later, a rickety wooden stepladder descended. Nox leaned down into the tunnel.

“Come up,” she whispered, so softly that understanding her was more a matter of lip-reading than listening. “Douse the light, be silent.”

Ulric went first, followed by Kel, who reached back to help Aren. I followed, and Cassia came after and pulled the ladder up behind her.

The little room was dark, save for the glowing outline of a door on one wall that barely cast enough light to see by. Not silent, though. Muffled voices reached my ears, coming from whatever room lay beyond the door. The air smelled dusty and slightly spicy. As my eyes adjusted, I noticed boxes and barrels in the corners. Shelves covered the wall opposite the door, stacked with glass jars and bulging sacks. I stepped closer, careful to make no sound as I crept across the rough wooden floor. The sacks made soft rustling noises when I touched them. Onions.

We were in a store-room. Cassia ran the toe of her boot over the trapdoor, which had disappeared seamlessly into the wooden floor as soon as she closed it. “Someone else must know about this tunnel, and where it comes out,” she said, addressing Ulric. He grunted softly, but didn’t answer.

Nox looked over the shelves. She seemed disappointed by their contents, but took an empty sack and slipped a few items into it.

Ulric came closer. “What time will it be now?” he asked Nox, still barely whispering.

She shrugged. “I don’t know how long we were in that fortress. If it was only a few hours, we’ll be in the early morning. So either the people out there are early risers, or—” She nudged a keg of ale with her foot. “This may be an alehouse, and those good folks are just closing up for the night. I suppose you want to blast your way out?”

I winced. He wouldn’t appreciate that.

“We’ll wait,” he said. “If no one has followed, perhaps we’ve found good fortune. Drawing attention to this place will not help us. But if those people aren’t in bed in the next few minutes, we leave. I’ll not give the city guard time to set up outside if they do know about the tunnel. And if anyone walks into this room, that will be their bad luck.”

I stepped away, and Ulric grabbed my arm. “Are you ready to fight?”

“I am.”

“Where are you going now?”

“To check on Aren.” I fought to keep my voice quiet. “He’s not holding up well.”

“You’ll keep your magic to yourself, though.” An order, not a question. “I feel mine draining already, and I have to conserve. Save yours. We’ll need it.”

“Aren needs it.”

His fingers tightened, digging into my flesh, and he pulled me close enough that I felt his breath in my ear. “If you can’t use it responsibly, I swear I will.” He let me lean away. “It’s not personal, Rowan. You’ve heard, I’m sure, that I’m a driven man. You’ve been a valuable ally, but I will not allow you or your sentiment to stand in my way. Understood?”

I glanced around. Nox had moved on to another shelf, and if she heard, she didn’t seem to care. Everyone else was too far away to be listening in, though Aren watched from his seat on a box in the corner.

“Understood.”

Ulric crouched on the floor next to the door, sword in hand.

Aren moved to the side so I could sit beside him. “What was that about?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. “You were stuck in there with him, weren’t you?”

“They only have one cell to contain magic. It wasn’t so bad. Mostly. I learned a few things about magic. Controlling it. Aren, you need more.”

He shook his head. “No. Whatever this push-back thing is, keep it. We’re not out of danger yet.”

“If yours burns out, you could lose it forever.”

He smiled a little. “You want to fan my flames, Miss Greenwood?”

I looked back at Ulric, who watched us intently from the corner. I rested my head on Aren’s shoulder and tried to relax. No intense connection. Nothing to arouse suspicion. But I let my magic go, imagined it swirling around us and flowing into him.

“Don’t try anything unfamiliar,” Aren said. “Don’t want to burn the place down.” But he sat up straighter, as though he were getting something. I kept trying.

I stopped as the lights went out in the other room. Stairs creaked, and then the building was silent.

Ulric pushed the swinging door open, and we crept through a large room filled with tables, some with benches beside, others with chairs set upside-down on top. The ash-blackened hearth gave off the scent of wood smoke, and I wished we could stay and light a warm fire, just for a few minutes.

The sky outside the windows showed not deep night, but the purplish light of pre-sunrise, painted in light strokes with streaks of cloud. The city would wake soon.

Ulric hesitated at the main entry door, made sure we were all with him, and eased it open. He stepped outside and motioned for the rest of us to wait. Aren pulled me aside and kissed me again, long and deep, then rested his forehead against mine.

“One for the road,” he explained.

“We’re going to get out of here alive.” I almost believed my words.

“I love you, you know.”

I smiled and wrapped my arms around him. Nothing had ever felt so good as having his body pressed against mine again. “I love you, too.” The words seemed inadequate, but I didn’t know what else to say.

Ulric waved for us to follow, and we left the safety of the building. The streets were quiet at that early hour, but not empty. A cart creaked over the wide cobblestone street, drawn by a big bay horse that plodded along, head down. His master affected the same posture, and didn’t seem to notice us. We crossed the street and headed into the shadows of a long alleyway between wood-shingled buildings that rose two stories overhead, with lines of laundry criss-crossing between them. I didn’t recognize this portion of the city, but sensed the river ahead, calling to me.

“We’ll go back by way of the river,” Aren said. “Our horses are waiting in the forest outside the gate.”

Ulric paused. “How did you get past the gates to get in?”

“I manipulated the guard.”

“And you can’t do that now.”

“No. But we think there will be people coming and going from the market, if we want to try to duck out then.”

Ulric crossed his arms. “There won’t be anyone coming or going if they issue a city-wide alert.”

“Why haven’t they?” Cassia asked, frowning. “They must know we’ve gone.”

“Hmm. Keep walking.” Ulric pressed on, and we climbed over a low gate in the alley. A growl rose from a wooden crate to our right, and a thin dog covered in patchy white fur emerged, teeth bared. Cassia turned and hissed at it, cat-like, and the dog retreated into its shelter.

“Never cared for dogs,” she commented. “Dirty things.”

I supposed they didn’t see many of them where she came from.

We reached the end of the alley and stepped into the thin morning light. Beyond a broad road and a widely-spaced row of shacks and wooden docks, the churning gray river flowed. Rowboats in an array of colors bobbed on the water, which seemed to be at flood levels, nearly overflowing the banks.

Ulric turned toward the river, then halted.

A dozen guards in dark blue uniforms and bright armor emerged from behind a nearby building. I turned to run back into the alley. Eight more men blocked the other end, approaching slowly and cautiously, picking their way around the debris and laundry. The dog barked, then yelped in pain.

I gripped Aren’s hand, but released it as I remembered the small amount of fight training Ulric had provided.
Keep your hands free. Be prepared to move.

My magic welled up, ready to act, if only I could find my focus. I pulled in a long breath and let my power infuse me, then stepped further from the alley, keeping the wall of a red-brick building at my back, moving toward the cover provided by a stack of boxes. The others followed—all except Ulric.

Deep in the city, a bell clanged.

Ulric stepped toward the soldiers in front of us. The soldier leading the group, a tall and muscular fellow with bright red hair sprouting from beneath his polished steel helmet, gasped and collapsed. Ulric kicked him in the face, sending a spray of blood over the street as three more men rushed forward. Ulric moved like a man of twenty years rather than several hundred, with speed, grace, and strength I hadn’t seen in him before. His sword flickered through the air as though weightless, taking down man after man in the tight group. He held the iron rod in the other hand, fending off enemies who dared try to avoid his blade. When a fellow larger than the first approached, Ulric’s eyes lit up. He stole that one’s strength, and the mountainous man fell to the ground.

The first one he’d done it to stirred and pushed himself up, having regained what was left of his strength, but seemed unable to do much after the kick to the head.

It all happened so quickly that I had trouble following it, let alone reacting. A mesmerizing dance of pain and death, played out in moments.

Ulric disappeared.

He’d warned me to expect it, but I gasped. His clothes had disappeared with him, but not his weapons, which seemed to move through the air on their own, slicing and jabbing. Ulric reappeared mere seconds later, but he had made his way to the rear of the group. He caught their attention, and they turned, providing a chance for the rest of us to move.