Chapter 24: What Stones Remember

73 3 0

Basysus 30, 1278: Upper Deeplands. The trick about outrunning death is remembering it has more legs than you do…

Running through a damp tunnel in the gloom has never been a good idea. I would know. It’s a lot worse when someone slams their shoulder into me.

The centaur warrior shoved me sideways. I bounced off the mold-slick brick wall, then hit the ground like a discarded rag doll, the air knocked from my chest. I rolled away before I was trampled into a bloody stain, then scrambled unsteadily to my feet, dagger drawn.

“Try that again, jackass!” I snarled with a wheeze.

“Gladly!” he snapped.

He kicked out with his forehooves and let out an ugly growl. I darted aside, jabbing for his ribs, but my knife skittered off his chain armor. He slashed at my neck, but I avoided his short sword. The worst I got was a sliced-up sleeve. Quickly, I stepped along his side out of reach of hooves and blade.

This was just one of the five centaurs, probably their tracker. Which meant the other four weren’t far behind.

“Grab her!” Elkerton bellowed from back the way we’d come.

I shot a hard look toward his voice, then turned to stab this centaur’s flank to slow him down. Before I could, Azure leaped onto his back and upset his entire world.

In a flash, she slapped both hands hard against his ears. He let out a yell as he staggered from the blow, ears probably ringing like a temple bell. Azure struck his ears twice more for good measure. I punched his hand with the pommel of my dagger, and he dropped his sword. It clanged to the ground. I snatched it up and backed away.

A throwing knife sailed out of the darkness and grazed my upper arm.

“Hells and high tide!” I swore, grabbing my arm; warm blood greased my fingers. “Damn it, I’m running out of fresh shirts.”

“Run!” Azure signed sharply with a concerned look at my arm.

We bolted away from the wounded centaur into the unknown. It wasn’t pitch black, at least not to my eyes. This was one of the rare times I blessed the magic poison that gave me kobold eyes to see in twilight. It was the best lighting the tunnel had at the moment.

Moss vines trailed across the ceiling and burned with a gentle inner light. Where there weren’t vines, there were blue-glowing firefly motes. Some rushed with us a few paces; others flew aside.

Everything here was the same as before; the tunnel had clearly been made by stonemasons. Age and mold-stained bricks were in even rows. There wasn’t time to stop and check, but it seemed like every nine Ancient Order meters there was a carved stone archway. Smooth and even, the arch looked like water frozen in stone—the two curled waves meeting at the point.

What I couldn’t decide was who had built it. This wasn’t Ancient Order design, and it wasn’t viprin clan work either. So they might have used it, but they didn’t build it.

Bruises and cuts—both old and new—drained my breath. Azure ran easily beside me, not even winded. She was quicker in the dark than anyone else I’d run with, save the blessed Shade of Ishnanor herself when I had to outrun an assassin.

We ran and turned, then ran again. Each tunnel looked like the last. The constant thunder of hooves chased after us. Finally, we left the tunnels behind for a wide chamber shaped like a dome. The walls were streaked with chalky white strata that glimmered in the twilight blue glow of moss vines that dangled everywhere. A stale, coppery-bitter stench harassed the air; it smelled like a forgotten pit of someone’s worst day.

I squinted at the glow and glitter, trying to squeeze out what light I could. What I saw didn’t leave me with any sort of good feelings.

This was a dead end with nowhere to hide.

At least it looked like that at first. High up on the wall—maybe three Ancient Order meters—was another tunnel. Dark smears of what might have been stone stairs led up to it, now just mold-slick, unforgiving broken stones. I drew a bitter breath as I touched Azure’s arm to get her attention.

“A tunnel out,” I signed, then indicated the opening. “We’ll need to climb.”

Azure glared at the broken stairs, then nodded with a quick glance over her shoulder.

“Hurry. The warriors sound too close,” she replied, then stalked for the ruined stairs. I shoved the stolen sword into my belt next to a dagger and ran after her.

We hugged the wall and climbed. What was left of the stairs was barely wide enough for our toes, which meant too narrow for centaur hooves. The bricks had been set into the wall, so that gave us something to lean on. We managed five steps before hoofbeats battered the stale air of the bricked dome.

“Nowhere to run now, is there, Windtracer?” Elkerton snarled, panting from the near gallop. “What? Think you can just scale the wall out of our reach? Stupid.”

His four bodyguards spread out around him. The one Azure and I had slapped around looked like an ocean of seething anger stuffed in a tiny bucket. I saw Elkerton’s eyes fly open wide as he realized what our plan was.

“Rope! Daggers! Just something!” The damn stamp-licking waste-of-a-centaur flailed his arms in an enraged panic. “Yank them down! Now!”

I waved to Azure with a quick sign.

“Go!”

Daggers cracked the ancient wall with metallic pings. Bits of gritty stone dust and pebbles rained around us. We managed another two steps before a dagger slapped the wall in front of my nose. Dust stung my eyes, and I yelped. Off-balance, I slipped on loose rock and pitched headfirst, grabbing at air.

A quick tuck and roll on the floor saved me from any broken bones, but not bruises. I scrambled unsteadily to my feet, drawing the stolen short sword, as the centaur warriors closed in around me. They charged, but not before Azure landed next to me.

With a feral grin, she flexed her hands like claws. Murky water erupted out of the damp walls like hundreds of sling bullets. The closest pair of centaurs yelled as they wheeled around, racing aside, their exposed skin a raw mass of welts as if the water had teeth. The other two centaurs used their companions as meat-shields to race in and around Azure’s muddy assault.

One rushed at me with a slashing attack. I parried, deflected his blade, then swung hard for his exposed side. He wheeled sharply away from my sword, but that was fine. It put me out of his reach as well. I could use a sword, but I wasn’t a swordswoman by any means. By the time he turned to face me, I’d swapped the sword to my left hand and drawn my whip with my right.

“What’re you going to do with that, little lady?” The smug bastard’s sneer was bad enough, but the malicious glint in his eye? That made my skin crawl.

“Oh, not much,” I replied with a coy grin, then cracked the whip twice with a savage snarl. Once across his knuckles that sent his sword clattering to the ground, then a second near his chest. Breastplate or not, the air cracked with a vengeance that made him recoil in panic. I grinned nastily. Centaurs have a devilfish of a time recovering weapons they’ve dropped, which worked in my favor… until it didn’t.

The centaur scrambled away, hooves scuffing stone as he yanked a dagger from his belt. He frowned, eyes cutting to the sword on the ground between us, then back at me. I grinned and eased forward to kick his sword away, my weapons held ready.

“Give it up.” My voice was dry and ragged from running. “You’re done.”

“You first,” he replied with an evil tone.

A shrill spike of sound split the air next to me with a blast of blue-white light. I instinctively jerked aside, until I realized it was Azure. The water elemental fell to the floor wrapped in what looked like a three-weighted bola, filthy with shimmering pale-white runes that sizzled the air. Each time Azure struggled to change shape or break her bonds, a bolt of white magical lightning arced through the cord and her.

“Azure!” I ran to her side. The blade couldn’t cut the cord, so I stood over her, sword raised. I took a deep breath, steeling my nerves. “Let her go! Let us go!”

Elkerton motioned to the other centaurs to surround us before he casually rolled up his sleeves.

“Oh, I don’t think so, Windtracer.” The auditor’s grin was a portrait of dark slime and nightmares. “You two are a problem. First, you smeared my reputation. Do you know how many favors I had to call in to repair my standing after our… little disagreement… on the road? Second, you’ve become a problem for a business associate of Herd Tolvana.”

My temper rose with my panic.

“She’s a lich, you idiot!” I glanced around as if my head were on a swivel, trying to keep the surrounding centaurs in sight. If they moved, I sliced, in hopes of taking off a finger. “Lady Nimad will gut the lot of you for fun when she’s done with you.”

Auditor Elkerton clopped slowly forward as the circle of centaurs drew as tight as a noose. The man shrugged, but there wasn’t anything casual about the dark, evil glint in his eyes.

“Lady Rima Nimad might try that. But I’ve not lived this long without my own solutions to problems like her. She’ll burn like the others once we have the viprin relic.” He glanced at the four centaur warriors, then chuckled. “Speaking of solutions, I’ve one for you.”

I took an involuntary step back until I literally stood over Azure. The water elemental struggled harder with the enchanted bola. It fought back, burning her with lightning until she spat up a dark blue, watery kind of blood.

Elkerton rubbed his hands together like a starving noble at a feast.

“Your little watery friend? She’ll go to Herd Tolvana’s excavation and dig until she dies with the filthy tieflings there. Thanks to your stupid ruse, we’ve a better idea of how to get into that viprin temple.” He rubbed his hands together. “As for you? Well, I truly hate Windtracers. Every last one of you should be hanged. So, I’m keeping you for my personal amusement—at least until you give up where your companions are. Don’t worry, I’ll dump all your bodies in some ruin to rot.”

“Try it, donkey!” I snarled with more fear than anger as I felt a headache pound behind my eyes.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Elkerton replied, idly gesturing to his warriors.

They rushed us all at once. Elkerton naturally hung back to keep his hands clean. They were too close for my whip, but not for the sword. I slashed twice. One centaur recoiled as I cut open his arm. Another took a slice along his leg.

When they knocked the sword out of my hands, I turned my whip over and used the leather-wrapped wooden grip like a bludgeon. Jaw, hands, anything attached to a centaur was a target. I lost ground with every hit.

Next to me Azure fought with a manic frenzy. Her hands were bound at her sides, but her legs were free, and she used them. One centaur hauled her up by the bola ropes like a bale of hay, but she kicked him square in the mouth. When he didn’t let go, we learned that water elementals had something like shark teeth. Azure sank those teeth through the warrior’s leather bracer.

Seconds later, a centaur had my arms pinned while two others had trapped Azure with a second enchanted bola that nearly killed her.

“Are we done?” Elkerton’s bored voice was like poisoned oil as he strolled forward.

Desperate, drowning in panic, I squirmed an arm free. Instead of a dagger, I pinched the air in front of my forehead, then pulled. Elkerton’s eyes bulged in terror. Silver threads glimmered between my fingers, filling my imagination with countless ideas. But, no matter what idea came to mind of how to warp the centaurs’ minds, every thought centered on escape.

Then the threads fizzled with a sparkle of glimmering dust and vanished. All that remained was a splitting headache and massive pressure in my head. My eyes watered from the intense pain.

Elkerton blew out a snort. “That’s the best you…”

Whatever else he wanted to say vanished when a tremor shook the room. A second followed the first. We watched dark, ominous cracks crawl up the walls. Elkerton shouted orders; the centaur warriors shouted back. I had no idea what anyone said; my headache grew so bad that a sharp whine filled my ears.

Then a massive paw with digging claws shredded the wall like stale cake. A beaked snout and scaled face—half the size of a wagon—with six cloudy eyes peered through the hole at us. The moment it locked eyes with me, my headache faded like dew before a warm morning sunrise.

My breath hitched as my eyes flew open wide.

“It’s you,” I breathed.

The threadmarrow basilisk mewled once at me, then trumpeted an enraged roar at the centaurs that I swore shook the heavens.

I never knew centaurs could run that fast or scream that loud. It’s amazing what you can learn in an old ruin.


Support Kummer Wolfe's efforts!

Please Login in order to comment!