Alora: The Portal (28 page)

Haegen peered over him around the corner. “I could run down the another hallway and draw them after me. I’m really fast. Perhaps I can outrun them and circle back.”

“No, this place is like a maze. You’d be lost for certain. Perhaps if we threw a stone to rattle down another corridor they might investigate the noise.”

“I’m the best one to throw it. We need a big one.”

Grappling at the stone along the edge of the floor, they felt for loose rocks. Markaeus discovered a gap with a large loose stone wedged in the hole. Sliding his hand in the slot to leverage against the rock, he felt a sharp pinch.

“Ow!” Markaeus hissed, snapping his hand back to rub the sore spot on his little finger. “Something bit me.”

“Let me see.” Haegen stretched out with his head on the floor. “Come out here and talk to me.”

An immense rat, with beady black eyes and brown mottled fur emerged, regarding Haegen with a rather respectful expression. Haegen reached his hand out to stroke his back, moving up to scratch behind his ears, murmuring in low tones.

“Very well.” Haegen rolled over to face Markaeus with a smug grin.

“I told him you were sorry for invading his home, and he’s forgiven you.”

“He’s forgiven me? He’s the one who bit me.”

“And what would you do if a giant’s hand reached through the door of your home to surprise you in your sleep?”

“I don’t know, but I wouldn’t bite his finger.”

“Never you mind. Whiskers is a very nice rat, and he’s kindly agreed to help us out. He’s going to have a run at the sentries across the way.” Whiskers lifted his head to Markaeus, wiggling his nose.

“His name is Whiskers?”

“No, but I can’t pronounce the name he told me. Whiskers seems a good enough substitute.” Haegen crept back to the corner on his knees. “Ready, Whiskers?”

“Wait.” Markaeus reached in his pocket, retrieving a few crumbles of cheese. “Here you go, Whiskers. We’re extremely grateful for your aid.”

Whiskers accepted the cheese from Markaeus’ hand without a single nip, and blinked his black eyes.

“You’re welcome.” Markaeus smiled.

“You’ve developed gifting with animals, too?” Haegen’s hopeful brows arched high.

“No. But he seems polite enough. I assumed he’d mind his manners.”

“The guards are still in the doorway. The bald one with the bushy beard has drawn his sword.”

“Best of luck, Whiskers.” Markaeus wondered if he was allowed to pray for a rat. He could be risking his life for them.

Whiskers scurried along the circular wall, his mottled fur blending with the stones in the flickering lamplight. As the rat slipped around the guards inside the corridor, Markaeus briefly thought Whiskers had simply scampered off. Until the skinny guard in the back screamed, hopping on one foot and shaking his leg.

“A rat! It’s a rat! He took a chunk out of me.” He bounded across the spoke room like his pants were on fire, the other three guards following on his heels.

“Now,” Markaeus hissed, and they took off at a dead run for the corridor, no longer bothering with stealth.

“Hey!”

One of the guards shouted, but Markaeus didn’t slow to look behind him. Twisting and turning down the passageway, he heard pounding steps following. They had to reach the portal and get inside before he caught them.

“Stop, you mongrels! You’ll meet my blade before I let you escape!”

Markaeus stumbled, almost falling to the ground.

“Hurry!” called Haegen over his shoulder.

Markaeus pushed hard, ignoring his burning lungs. Rounding the last corner, they burst into the dimly lit bathing room. Markaeus lunged into the water, splashing to the back of the pool until the water grew too deep, forcing him to swim. Haegen, only slightly taller, swam beside him.

“Where are we going?” gasped Haegen.

“Right here.” Markaeus reached for the portal door.

It was gone.

“As I feared, our archers
have no clear shot at the guard station from behind cover,” Graely whispered to Morvaen. “The four of us will creep close when the moon goes behind the clouds.”

“Ochraen has set the smudge pot at the air shaft intake. He and Flaeren will stand guard to ensure it’s not discovered and then head for the meeting place.” Morvaen held up his hand, his eyes on the sky. “On my signal…”

Morvaen’s hand dropped. Naegle and Worster took the lead, moving with stealthy steps along the steep rocky slope beside the cavern entrance. Gifted in agility and weapons, the wiry young men were some of the most talented warriors Graely had ever known. That they volunteered for the dangerous mission demonstrated both their loyalty and their bravery. Graely and Morvaen followed close behind the younger warriors.

The cave opening was narrow and tall, wide enough for only three or four men to stand abreast, but four men high. Outside the cave, the ledge was scarcely two paces wide, with a sheer hundred-cubit drop into the ocean. At the mouth of the cave, a sentry stood facing inward, conversing with his cohorts, the shoulders of his coat adorned with braided rope.
Perhaps a head guard?

Approaching the cave along the narrow cliff, Graely heard the excited voices of the sentries… something about children escaping. His heart leapt within his chest. Perhaps Kaevin, Alora, and Arista were on the loose. Any moment they could come bursting from the caverns. He turned to catch Morvaen’s eye. Had he heard the guard’s conversation?

Graely’s foot landed on a loose stone. He froze. Too late. The stone clattered, bumped, and rolled down the cliff, loosening others to join it on its way.

“What was that?” The head guard craned his head around the edge of the opening. Graely held his breath, praying their mottled clothing and painted skin would camouflage them against the dark cliff wall.

A bell tolled, echoing from the belly of the caverns, and the guard looked over his shoulder.

“Fire!” A voice called out. “There’s a fire!”

“Where is it?”

“Should we be helping to douse it?”

“I’m staying right here in the fresh air unless my bloodbond compels me otherwise. If you wish to carry buckets of water into the corridors of a smoke-filled cavern, you may do so without me.”

“I’m content to guard the entrance. It’s not as if the cavern will burn to the ground around us. Let someone else quench the fire.”

As the distracted guard stepped back inside the opening, Graely risked another glance at Morvaen, this time remaining motionless for safety’s sake.

“What now?” Morvaen mouthed.

All eyes turned to Graely. His mind raced. They’d hoped most of the guards would join a bucket brigade, leaving the entrance vulnerable. Once inside, the cover of smoke, combined with Naegle’s gift of direction, gave them decent odds of success. Had they been able to make use of Nordamen’s skills, the invasion would’ve been simple, but they knew Vindrake’s lair was heavily warded.

If the smoke doesn’t draw them inside, we must drive them out.

Markaeus bobbed in the water as a nasty cackle reverberated off the surrounding walls. On the shore stood the bushy-bearded guard, an eerie figure in the backlight of the flickering lanterns. “Nowhere to run, boys…” He stepped into the water, swinging his sword in a mesmerizing arch above his head. “Which of you wants to die? I’ve only enough rope to tie one of you.”

Struggling to pull a blade from the folds of his cloak, Markaeus’ head dipped under the water. “Get back, Haegen,” he choked.

“No.” Haegen struggled in front of him. “I won’t let him kill you.”

Bushy Beard waded toward them, pushing waves of water ahead of him.

“Move. I’ve got a knife.” Markaeus rasped, shoving at his brother’s back.

Haegen paddled sideways.

Just over a sword’s-reach away, Bushy Beard laughed again. “I may slice both your heads off for making me wade in after you.”

Markaeus flung the knife, his arm splashing into the water. He heard the blade bouncing off the stone on the shore.

“Dive, Haegen!”

Not waiting to see if his brother obeyed, Markaeus plunged under the water, paddling ineffectually in the tangles of his cloak. Something grabbed his hair, pulling him up by the roots. He screamed out even before his face broke the surface, thrashing and scratching at the hand in his hair. But the grip was unrelenting, and Markaeus was dragged into the shallows. With frantic fumbling, he found another knife. He slashed at the arm above him.

“Yah!” Bushy Beard let go of his hair. “You dog! You’ll pay for slicing me! I may gut you and let you die slowly.”

“Markaeus! Look out!”

Markaeus scrambled backwards into the deeper water as Bushy Beard loomed above him, raising his sword. The blade came down. Markaeus closed his eyes and screamed. A heavy weight forced him down to the floor of the pool. Pushing off from the bottom, Markaeus propelled to the surface, gasping for air. Bushy Beard floated on the water, the hilt of a sword protruding from his chest.

“Markaeus!” His brother called from the side.

“Haegen!” Markaeus swam and splashed to his brother, throwing his arms around his neck. “I thought I was dead. I thought I was dead. You saved me.”

“No,” Haegen sputtered, gesturing with his arm. “He did!”

Markaeus paddled, turning until he followed his brother’s arm. “Who’re you?”

A tall youth with wet hair waded in the water, pushing Bushy Beard’s floating body into the shallows. He put his foot on the dead man’s chest to wrench his sword free and turned to face the boys.

“My name is Jireo, and it seems I arrived at a fortunate time. Tell me, why was this man trying to kill you?”

“Don’t you bear Vindrake’s bondmark? You must have more than twelve years…” Markaeus back-paddled, deciding to keep his distance until he learned the strange boy’s identity.

“I have nineteen years, but I’m from Stone Clan. I’ve no bloodbond with Vindrake, and I never will.” He motioned with his hand. “Come out, I mean you no harm.”

A shadow moved behind Jireo’s shoulder.

“Look out! Behind you!” Markaeus screamed.

Jireo turned, raising his sword. Too late. Skinny Guard stood beyond reach with his bow drawn, arrow pointed at Jireo’s heart.

“No!” Markaeus shouted.

Skinny Guard jerked, falling back in a slow arc, his bow rattling to the ground. From his chest bloomed an arrow.

“Thanks, Wesley!” called Jireo toward Markaeus and Haegen, who were still treading water.

“You’re welcome.” The voice came from above Markaeus’ head. The upper half of a boy, perhaps having Jireo’s years, leaned out in the air, a crossbow in his hand. He appeared as if he were standing on the water, invisible from the waist down.

“The portal! The portal is back. We’re saved, Haegen. This is our escape.”

“You knew about the portal?” Jireo waded back toward Markaeus. “How could you have known? It was sealed.”

“I saw it before. I passed through to the realm on the other side. It’s cold, but it’s better than staying here. Haegen will have twelve years in less than a seven-day, and Vindrake will make him take the bondmark if we remain in Portshire.”

“So you have the gift of gresses?” Jireo asked.

“Yes, but when we came to escape, the portal was gone.”

The boy called Wesley spoke from above. “That’s because we came to seal it so Vindrake can’t get the weapons from our world. He’s too dangerous and powerful already. He could destroy your whole world if he got ahold of our weapons.”

“Then why did you open it again?” asked Haegen.

“I was compelled to open it,” Jireo’s jaws were clenched, and he spoke with heavy emotion. “I must rescue my friends and my sister from Vindrake before he kills them. At least I must try.”

“Do you mind if my brother and I go through the portal before you seal it again?” Markaeus hefted himself into the portal, sitting on the edge of the opening and dangling his lower legs in the water. “We promise not to be any trouble.”

“We can’t really stop you. The portal can only be sealed from the outside, and Vindrake’s captured our gressor.” Jireo swiped his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Oh… that’s too bad, I suppose. Come on, Haegen. Let’s go before any more sentries appear.”

“But, Markaeus… Vindrake will be able to get the bad weapons if we go. If we stay here, you could seal the portal.” Haegen hung with his hands on the portal edge, regarding Markaeus with a furrowed brow over earnest eyes.

“But we’re so close. We could be free.” Tears stung the back of Markaeus’ eyes.

“What would Grandfather say? ‘Always remember you were made for a purpose.’ This is your purpose, Markaeus. You’re the only one who can seal the portal now.”

“You know we can’t fight the guards, Haegen. I have only two knives left.” Markaeus sobbed, knowing he was saying goodbye to his dream of freedom. “We’ll die for certain.”

“I’m proud of you, Markaeus—you’re very brave. Whatever happens, we’ll be together.” Haegen’s lips trembled as he spoke, but Markaeus saw his grandfather’s eyes.

“Oh,
hell’s bells
!”

Markaeus jumped at the new voice behind him.
How many people are inside this portal?
A tall, thin man stomped about, throwing things willy-nilly and sorting through a great pile of weapons.

“Of course I can’t let these boys get killed closing our portal.” He grabbed a rucksack, tossing it to Wesley. “Here—throw this pack out to Jireo.”

“I could go, too.” Wesley mumbled the words before moving to heave the rucksack out the portal to Jireo, who waded back and tossed it on the dry stone.

“Here are my keys, Wesley. You might as well go home and wait. You’ll either hear from us, or we’re gone for good. Take care of the horses.” He pulled off his coat, flinging it out to Jireo, who caught it above the water, transferring it to shore.

“But Mr. Whitford…”

“Don’t even ask, Wesley. You know I can’t let you go with me. Go back outside. Call on your cell phone, and tell everyone to pray.”

Without further ado, the thin man slid into the water and held out his hands to Markaeus. “I’m Uncle Charles. What’s your name son?”

“I’m Markaeus.” He sniffed, jumping into his wiry arms and cinching his legs around his hips.

Charles turned grave eyes to Jireo. “We’ve held you up long enough. Go save them. My prayers are with you.”

A low bell tolled. Again. Again. The deafening tone echoing and compounding within the cavern walls.

Charles twitched his lips in the smallest of smiles. “I believe Graely and his men have arrived; now you won’t be fighting alone. Just remember, when you get everyone away, safe and sound, and Alora’s got her strength back, tell her to transport me to her. Don’t let her come to me, okay?”

“But what if I can’t save them?”

“No, don’t say it. Please don’t. You have to save them, Jireo. I believe in you.”

Jireo returned a brisk nod, with his chin jutted out. He turned, bounding out of the water and disappearing down the corridor.

Wesley’s lips trembled as he spoke from the portal. “Goodbye, Mr. Whitford.”

“Goodbye, Wesley,” Uncle Charles coughed, probably trying to hide the crack in his voice.

“Goodbye.” Markaeus’ own voice sounded small and hollow to his ears as he shut the portal door and sealed it forever.

“I’m so glad you’ve come to see the wisdom of my suggestion.” Vindrake pulled back his lips in a dazzling smile with even white teeth, his tone as benevolent as if they were all sitting down to drink a cup of tea. He rubbed his hands together in a brisk motion. “Now where did I put my blade? Ah! Here it is, right in my pocket where it should be.” Yanking the blade out with a flourish, he brought the edge to Alora’s neck. “Shall we test to see if it needs sharpening?”

Alora barely flinched as the razor edge slit the skin under her throat. The sting was nothing compared to the agony of her ravaged arms. In the background, Empusa observed them, her cool marble expression unchanged.

“Leave her alone!” screamed Kaevin. “I’ve said you can perform the ceremony. Why do you still torture her?”

“
Because
,” Vindrake gave an answering scream, his voice rising to a hysterical pitch. “
Because. I. Am. Her. Father.
”

He leaned in close, speaking in her face, his foul breath a contrast to his brilliant smile. “I am your father, and I demand your respect. You will obey me in all things.”

Alora’s breath hitched as a sob broke from her lips.
Why can’t I just die?

“Please,” Kaevin’s voice betrayed her own emotion. “Please don’t hurt her anymore.”

“Ha! I won’t have to hurt her. Ever again. After you take the bloodbond, she will obey me. She will respect me after you bear my bondmark.”

Alora’s stomach rebelled again at Vindrake’s proximity and the thought of Kaevin taking the bloodbond. Though Kaevin had chosen his words carefully, agreeing only to let Vindrake perform the ceremony and never swearing to speak the required words, she still worried he might give in.