Warrior Mage (Book 1) (35 page)

Climbing took most of his concentration, but he tried to check on their pursuers at the same time. He could
hear
them, that was for certain. Whatever magic or mechanism created that siren, it was louder than ever, spewing its undulating cry across the cane fields. He could hear shouts, too, excited cries from the road. There were no hounds that he could send down a wrong trail, unfortunately. Sun Dragon would not fall for that again, regardless.

When they left the vegetation behind and clambered onto bare rock, Yanko looked down, morbidly curious as to how many people had come out to hunt him. Two roundabouts were parked on the road, and a dozen lights, some magical and some simple flame lanterns, illuminated the brush and grass on either side. He didn’t see any sign of Dak or the Komitopis family members. They hadn’t come to join the hunt, but they had not come to help, either. Not that Yanko had expected them to.

He and Lakeo had climbed high enough that he could not hear conversations on the road—not that he would have understood them—but he saw a couple of people hacking at the ground with swords. His roots must still be trying to snatch people. Good. But the hunter had escaped—he didn’t see anyone in white.

He turned back to the rocky slope. If he could not see her, she was probably already on his trail again. She would not use a light that might give away her presence.

Yanko asked Kei to watch for her again. Even though the parrot flew off, seemingly interested in helping, Yanko couldn’t keep from hunching his shoulders as they continued upward. The dark lava rock should hide them, unless someone thought to shine a light up here, but he felt vulnerable being out in the open.

The short chirps and squeaks of the bats drifted down to him, just audible over the sirens below. Almost there.

“They went this way,” came a cry from down below.

Yanko winced. The roots must have been defeated, because all of the lights converged on the road and then headed into the grass, toward the stump where he and Lakeo had paused. He reached out toward the bats in the cave, some flying out to hunt, others still dozing on the ceiling. Their minds were strange, even odder than those of birds and fish, but he tried to impart the idea upon them that a feast of bugs waited in the grass below and that they should descend to lunch on it.

“I see it,” Lakeo breathed. “Finally.”

The cave opening was not easy to spot, but because of his awareness of the bats, Yanko had been angling toward it all along. He reached the gap between two slabs of rock first. The shape of the mouth disappointed him as soon as he had a good look at it, because it appeared to be a natural fissure rather than something made by lava pouring out. It was a
narrow
natural fissure too. Would they even be able to get through? His thoughts of having to make a stand returned, grim and unwelcome.

The squeaks and chirps increased, growing more excited, and then the bats flew out, a greater mass of them than Yanko had expected. He was not sure whether their exodus was a result of his attempt to communicate or if they had simply sensed his and Lakeo’s approach and were fleeing. He pushed and pulled himself into the opening, afraid the people below would spot so many bats flying out at once—and that they would spot a couple of people climbing into the cave at the same time. His hand splatted into something soft, at the same time as the stench of bat guano flooded his nostrils. Until then, the sea breeze must have been keeping the odor at bay, but he gagged, and it was all he could do to keep from coughing.

“
Yanko
,” Lakeo whispered, making his name sound like a curse as she followed him inside.

“Sorry. Best I could do.” Yanko forced himself to crawl deeper, though his stomach roiled at the powerful stench. He wanted to create a light, but dared not unless they could get far enough back that it would not be visible from outside. He sensed that the cave grew wider and continued, heading deeper into the mountain, and that heartened him—or at least made slipping and squishing through knee-deep piles of bat dung easier to accept.

“This is
not
the kind of place you’re supposed to take a woman on a moonlit night.”

“I didn’t notice a moon out there,” Yanko said.

“Fine, then on a starlit night. Or
ever
.”

Distant shouts drifted up to the cave. Shouts of anger and irritation? Yanko could not tell for certain, but he hoped the bats were harassing his pursuers.

A faint orange light pulsed to life ahead of them. Yanko reared back, reaching for his sword. He hadn’t made the light.

“Relax,” Lakeo said. “It’s me. I got tired of walking in guano.”

“The assassin is right behind us,” Yanko whispered.

Lakeo glanced back. “You’re sure?”

They had crawled about twenty-five feet into the cave, and he could see the sky through the dark frame of rock at the opening. He didn’t spot anyone crawling in, but his gut clenched when he reached out with his senses. She was outside, almost to the opening. There weren’t any roots growing beneath the rock, no plants he could use to make another trap.

“Yeah,” he rasped. “She’s almost here.”

Yanko swiped his hand through the air, cutting out Lakeo’s light with a thought, but not before he glimpsed that the cave did indeed turn into a tunnel and continue into the volcano, at least for a ways. “Hurry,” he whispered. “We can keep going.”

But Lakeo stuck her hand in front of his chest to stop him. She took her bow off her shoulder and pulled out an arrow. “You can’t run forever.”

“You’re not going to shoot her. Do you know what a mage hunter is? How well they’re trained?”

He imagined a lithe figure in white leaping into the air and spinning a somersault to evade an arrow shot at her, then coming down in a fighting stance with a bevy of throwing stars ready to hurl.

“I’ve heard stories,” Lakeo whispered. “They’re human. Arrows kill humans.”

Yanko wanted to object to the idea of killing anyone, or at least of putting blood on Lakeo’s hands when this wasn’t her fight. The local police might want her, but what did she matter to the Nurians? But he dared not speak again, because he sensed the hunter’s presence on the other side of the cave entrance. He could not see her yet, but Lakeo was waiting, the arrow nocked and pulled back.

Seconds passed, and she didn’t show herself. Even if she didn’t have the senses of a mage, her instincts must be telling her that danger awaited her inside. Would she wait out there? Call for her comrades to come up? As of yet, Yanko hadn’t heard a sound from her, neither the clatter of a rock knocked free by her climb, nor a startled cry when his roots had entangled her.

He thought about probing her mind, trying some mental attack or even trying to communicate with her, as he had with the animals. But he doubted he could convince her to take off after a potential feast down below. He—

Yanko flattened his back against the nearest wall. “She’s inside,” he whispered.

“Can’t be,” Lakeo whispered back. “I didn’t see—”

“Look out.” Yanko grabbed her, even as something whistled through the air.

He was too late. Lakeo gasped with pain, dropping her bow.

Afraid the assassin would be on them before he sensed her, that they wouldn’t have a chance once she reached weapons range, Yanko clenched his eyes shut and reverted to the only one of the mental sciences that came easily to him: earth magic.

He flung a hand toward the ceiling at the mouth of the cave, as if his energy would flow out through his fingers. More power than he expected surged through him. It blasted into the porous rock of the ceiling, bringing down the surface layers at once, and pouring pressure into the tiny gaps in the stone higher up. Great slabs of stone tumbled down, smashing into the ground. Cracks and snaps sounded above them, and rock flew everywhere. Something wet spattered Yanko’s face, but he barely noticed it.

This time, Lakeo was the one to grab him, hauling him farther back into the cave. It took him a moment to get his feet working, to follow her—the force he had discharged had left him stunned, almost taking him to his knees. He scrambled over fallen boulders, some old, some new, patting his way along in the dark, even as the rock fall continued behind him. His pursuers would not have any doubt as to the direction he had gone now.

Small stones struck the ground around Yanko and Lakeo, but the rockfall remained centered near the entrance. He hoped they weren’t in danger of being crushed—and he hoped there was another away out.

“Ouch,” Lakeo said, smacking into something in the dark.

Not the dead end of the cave, he hoped. The falling rocks dwindled, leaving the air full of dust and that horrible guano stench.

“You with me, Yanko?” Lakeo asked.

A hand slapped his cheek. Maybe it had been meant as more of a inquiring pat, but he almost took a finger up the nostril.

“Yes. Just dazed.” He did not explain that he had hurled more power at the ceiling than he had expected. He fingered the hem of his robe, wondering if it or the amulet had affected him. Yes, it had been a move of desperation, and it was possible he had flailed and used too much force, but he had still meant to control the rockfall, so it would only bring down rock near the entrance, enough to block the assassin from reaching them.

But it might have crushed her. Yanko could not bring himself to check on her aura. Because the power drain had left him with a headache, he told himself. But he knew the truth. He was too cowardly and didn’t want to know. Why the idea of killing someone who was trying to kill him bothered him so much, he wasn’t sure. Yes, any kind of killing disturbed him, but he was logical enough to understand the need for self-defense, to understand that if he
didn’t
kill her, she would keep coming after him. Somehow that logic did not make it all right.

The soft orange light returned, hovering between Lakeo and Yanko this time. She had stopped clambering over the rough ground and faced him. Dust, grime, and sweat stamped her face, and blood dripped down her forehead and into an eyebrow. She grimaced and wiped at it with the back of her hand. One of those falling rocks must have struck her in the head. He should have shielded them. As soon as he had hurled that burst of power, he should have been prepared for the consequences, erecting a barrier above their heads for protection.

“Can you sense her back there?” Lakeo prodded at her shoulder, where her vest was torn. Blood dribbled from a fresh gash there too. That straight, clean slash must have been caused by a knife or throwing star, not a rock. “Did you get her?”

“I... don’t know.”

She frowned. “You don’t know or you won’t check?”

Yanko avoided her eyes. “I barely sensed her slipping through the entrance.” It wasn’t exactly an answer to the question. Sooner or later, he would have to check, even if he didn’t want to, because otherwise they risked an attack from behind. “Give me a second.”

Ignoring his growing headache, Yanko probed the rockfall, confirming that there was no way out—it had plugged up the entire mouth of the cave—and then searched the pile itself. He found a weak aura at the bottom and near the exit. She had almost made it out, but even a mage hunter could not beat gravity.

“She’s alive, but barely,” he said.

“Trapped under the rocks?”

“Yes.”

“That’s going to have to be good enough. We better hope this tube leads somewhere.” Lakeo wiped her brow again, then sent her small ball of light floating ahead. Rocks littered the floor, but the ceiling was high enough that they could travel without ducking, and the passage was wide enough for them to walk side by side. “By the way, this probably wasn’t the best time to put on an invaluable family heirloom.” She waved a hand at his robe before heading deeper into the volcano.

He looked down. The robe did not show any signs of permanent damage, but dust and bat guano battled each other for prominence. His new bird buddy had left a gift on his shoulder, as well.

“I’m sure I can wash it.” Yanko prodded at a sticky spot, some kind of pitch or sap. “That’s probably what they have you do anyway in Kyattese prisons.”

Lakeo had started walking, but she frowned back at him when he didn’t follow. “We escaped the mage hunter. We’ll escape the rest. Get a ride on a ship going... somewhere. Not here. Come on.”

It was good advice, but Yanko found himself gazing back toward the rockfall. Even if Lakeo’s meager light did not stretch back far enough to see it, he could still sense the woman trapped beneath all the rubble. He had bored a hole through rock before. He might be able to reach her, to get her out.

But to what end? Would she be appreciative if he saved her life when he had also been the one who had put it in jeopardy? No, she would thrust a dagger into his chest. That was her mission, her quest. Just as finding that lodestone was his.

“Yanko, get moving,” Lakeo called from ten meters ahead. “I can’t watch your back if it’s way behind me.”

With his senses still extended, Yanko barely heard her. More auras had entered within his range. He drew back, not wanting to encounter the warrior mage if he had climbed up there. He wasn’t ready to deal with that superior attitude right now. All that mattered was that the hunter’s party had come, and they should try to dig her out. If they were in time. Her aura had grown weaker. She seemed to be trapped in a small, empty pocket under a big slab of rock, so he didn’t think she had been crushed. But maybe she wasn’t getting enough air. Though he didn’t know why he was doing it, he shifted aside a few of the rocks near her. Enough of them rolled away to create a tiny tunnel through which air could reach her.

“Yanko,” came another call from Lakeo, this one more distant.

He jogged after her, hoping he had not made a mistake he would regret.

Chapter 16

“W
e should have brought food. And more water.” Lakeo drank from her canteen. “But especially food. You bring any supplies?”

“Just water.” Yanko eyed the rounded ceiling of their lava tube, wondering if it would ever end. He had a vague sense that they had been heading downhill, but it was a subtle slope. Since he hadn’t thought to bring a pocket watch, he had little concept of how much time had passed, but he believed it had been an hour. Parts of the ceiling had dropped to the floor over the years, leaving boulders and occasionally huge rubble piles they had to scale. Anyone who knew where the tunnel came out could have driven there in a roundabout three times over by now. He had visions of walking straight into the hands of the ambassador and Sun Dragon with no chance of escaping into the city.