Cursed (25 page)

I turned and ran, down into the darkness.

I
run away a lot. It’s something you have to learn if you work alone and have a habit of finding trouble. Against these kind of odds—Belthas, Garrick, Meredith, Martin, and a dozen armed men on one side, and me on the other—staying to fight isn’t much different from suicide. I have absolutely no pride when it comes to combat. Running like a squirrel doesn’t bother me at all.

But leaving someone behind does. I’d been gambling that Luna and I could both make it out and now we’d been separated everything fell apart. I wanted to go back and help her, but there was nothing I could do against so many. Worse, as soon as Belthas realised I was there, he could threaten to hurt Luna unless I surrendered, and I knew he’d do it.

All I could think was to go deeper into the tunnels. Looking into the future, I could see that some came to dead ends, but others went down and down into darkness. If I was able to get deep enough, and if Belthas sent his men down after me, and if I could hide and let them go by and double back
towards the entrance, and if Belthas hadn’t left enough men to guard Luna …

It was a desperate plan, the biggest flaw being that I didn’t have any equipment. I’d left my mist cloak back at my flat, and checking my pockets I found everything else had been taken. Within a few minutes the sounds behind me had died away and I came to a stop, looking into the futures ahead of me and hoping for some luck.

I didn’t get it. After only a minute I heard the sounds of movement again, this time in greater numbers. Belthas had gotten organised and he was sending every man he had down into the tunnels, sweeping each passage methodically from end to end. Looking into the future, I saw with a sinking heart that hiding wasn’t going to work. All I could do was back away deeper into the darkness.

The tunnels went down and just kept on going. It was pitch-black and sight was useless; only my divination magic kept me from tripping and falling. To begin with I kept trying to find a place to hide, but as Belthas’s men pursued me deeper and deeper I realised it would be all I could do to simply get away.

I don’t know how long that chase went on. It felt like hours, but deep beneath the earth there was no way to tell. The tunnels were solid rock, worn smooth, and they carried sounds of movement oddly. From time to time I’d hear the sound of Belthas’s men but at other times they’d fall ominously silent, and that spurred me on all the more. I didn’t let myself think of Luna or Arachne or Belthas or Meredith. All I knew was that to stop was to die.

As time passed the journey began to feel like a nightmare, one of those dreams where you run and run but never get away. Again and again I would stop and wait, hoping I’d lost them, and every time as soon as I stopped I would hear the distant echo of the men on my tail. It grew warmer as we went deeper and the air grew close. I kept staring blindly into the darkness, trying uselessly to see, until at last I shut
my eyes and forced myself to rely on my magic. The only sound was my footsteps on the rock and the distant noise of Belthas’s men.

By the time I finally lost them, I was too exhausted to notice. The slipping, clambering path down the tunnels had drained my energy to the point where all I could think about was the next tunnel, and the next, and the next. I kept going, one ear open for the sounds of pursuit. Gradually I realised I couldn’t hear them anymore.

I stopped at last in a narrow, branching corridor and leant against the wall. My shirt was damp with sweat and I stripped off my jumper, tying it around my waist, before holding my breath and listening for a slow count of sixty. Nothing. I looked into the future and realised no one was coming. I was alone.

I’ve never liked being underground. Air’s more my element, even if I’m not close enough to it to use its magic; I like being high, able to see. Here beneath the earth, I felt tense, on edge. The air felt different: dry and stuffy. I could imagine the thousands of tons of earth and rock above me pressing silently down, and I forced myself to stay calm.

I think the only thing that stopped me from losing it was knowing I could find my way back. I was lost of course—there was no way I could have marked my passage in that flight, and the pitch-black tunnels would have turned me around in seconds. But as long as I have my magic, I can never stay lost. With enough time, I can always find the path.

Except in this case, the path led to about fifteen angry men with guns. I took stock of my position. No food, no water, no equipment, no friends. I had three choices: stay here, go forward, or go back.

In the end I went forward. It wasn’t so much a choice as a lack of one. I’ve been in a lot of really bad situations over the years and one of the small consolations is that you don’t have to worry much about consequences anymore.

The upper levels had had open chambers and rooms,
which had narrowed down into twisting passages as I’d descended. Now, as I kept walking, I noticed that the passages were starting to open out again. They’d stopped sloping down, which was some consolation, but I knew I still had to be far beneath the surface. The tunnels would have to climb back up a very long way to reach another exit, which I was frankly starting to believe was pretty unlikely.

After a while—I couldn’t say how long—I became vaguely aware that something was different. I was making steady progress but it was getting harder to see what was coming. The corridors and passages were fuzzier, more difficult to tell apart. I felt as though I was walking down a long, straight tunnel but when I looked again I thought I saw a fork. I looked again and saw a T junction. Then I couldn’t see any tunnel at all.

I slowed and scanned around me. I was in a large chamber. No, not large—huge. I looked back, disoriented, trying to figure out where I’d left the tunnel, and realised there was no tunnel. There was nothing around me but open space. I stopped and heard my footsteps fade into the distance. They didn’t echo.

I was standing in a vast cavern. The walls were ragged and irregular but their edges were smooth. The colour of the stone ranged from grey to brown, and in places I could see the dull glint of crystal. A moment later I realised that I was able to see. There was no light, yet everything was visible.

Slowly I began to walk again, and as I did I noticed that something was wrong with the perspective in this place. Distances didn’t seem right, somehow. At first glance I’d thought the cavern was maybe a few hundred yards, but as I walked I realised it was taking far too long to reach the centre. The place was miles and miles wide, the roof so far above I couldn’t even see it. At the centre were craggy rock formations, and as I kept walking, they grew larger and larger until I realised that they were the size of hills. There
was an entire mountain range at the centre of this place, curled around where I was standing, rising at the centre in a line of jagged peaks and descending on either side to form the shape of a crescent moon. To my left the mountains trailed away to a smooth point, while to my right they ended in a massive rock formation like a mesa.

The mesa rose into the air.

I stopped dead. The mesa was high off the ground, supported at an angle by a titanic pillar of rock. As I watched, it swung in my direction, crossing the miles between us with a kind of lazy grace. The mesa came to rest in front of me, towering over me like a skyscraper while I stood motionless.

Then the mesa opened its eyes.

It wasn’t a mesa. It was a head. The pillar of rock was a long, serpentine neck. And what I’d thought was a mountain range was the thing’s body. Two enormous eyes, each the size of a castle, focused on where I stood. They looked like rough-cut diamonds, with no pupils I could see.

I stood very still. Piece by piece, I slowly realised what my eyes had seen but my brain had refused to put together. The mountain range was a body, the folded hills beneath them two legs. The line of peaks was the ridge on its back and the trailing edge of mountains to my left was a long, serpentine tail. But it was the head that held my attention. It was long and wedge-shaped, the two eyes set far back before a pair of swept-back horns each the size of a tower, with two nostrils set at the front. Now that it had turned to face me, it was completely still. If I hadn’t seen it move, I would have thought it was some impossible rock formation.

The dragon watched me, silent and unblinking.

“Um,” I said. “Hi.”

It was, looking back on it, a pretty stupid way to introduce myself.

“Um, sorry to bother you,” I said. The creature before
me didn’t react, and I raised my voice a little. “Didn’t mean to intrude.”

The dragon stared at me. I don’t know much about dragons. Nobody really does. Maybe it couldn’t hear me, any more than a human can hear an ant. I began to back off. “I’ll just leave you in peace—”

STAY.

The voice went through me as though I were hearing it with my whole body. It felt like an earthquake, thunder through distant caverns. I stopped.

ARACHNE.

I hesitated. “Yes?”

YOU WILL AID HER.

I hesitated again, trying to figure out what to say. It didn’t sound like an order. It was more like a statement. “I’m going to,” I said at last. “If I can.”

The dragon watched me silently. “Okay,” I said slowly. “Arachne’s above. She’s in her lair. She’s hurt.”

I waited for an answer. Nothing came.

“Can you go to her?” I said at last.

The dragon didn’t answer. I didn’t know what was going on. “If I brought Arachne here, could you help her?”

YES.

“Is there, uh … any way you could help me with that?”

The dragon reared its head back, opening its mouth like a chasm. There were teeth inside, glinting dully. One of its enormous front claws rose up out of the earth and broke off a tooth with a thunderclap. Then the claw descended towards me.

I would have fled then if I could. One brush from that claw would turn me into a bloody smear. I knew I couldn’t possibly get away but my instincts shouted at me to run anyway … and yet I couldn’t move. All I could do was watch that claw descend, bigger and bigger—

The claw was gone. The dragon was back as it had been. Its enormous diamond eyes watched me.
GO.

D
arkness.

I was lying on stone, face down. It was pitch-black, and the air was warm. I was back in the tunnels.

I sat up, searching around me with my divination magic, watching the futures of myself exploring. I was in a small tunnel with a smooth floor. One end sloped upwards slightly and I had the feeling it led back the way I had come. There was no cavern nearby, and looking into the futures, there was nothing like it within my range. It didn’t seem to exist.

I shook my head, disoriented. My memories of the cavern felt hazy, confused, and didn’t seem to make sense. Had it been real? Or a dream, my mind playing tricks from exhaustion?

Either way, I’d been down here for hours. The tunnels felt dead, empty. If Belthas’s men had been going to search this far, they would have caught up to me by now; they must have given up and gone back. Looking into the future, I couldn’t see any sign that the tunnels ahead were going to start sloping back up towards ground level. I turned and began retracing my steps.

It took a long time, but even so the way back was easier. Now I wasn’t in a panicked rush, I could see the tunnels weren’t as complex as I’d thought. There were only one or two main pathways, with the occasional side passage and dead end. The tunnels followed a single primary route, two or three times my height and much wider.

I kept to a steady pace, narrowing my visions down to only the next few seconds, focusing on my footing and my precognition. As I walked I thought about what I should do. Belthas had to be long gone; I couldn’t imagine him setting up camp in Arachne’s lair. If I was lucky he’d given up on me and sealed the cave, maybe with a booby trap or two. That would cause problems but I could deal with it. If I was
unlucky he’d left guards, in which case … well, I’d just have to come up with something.

When the first sliver of light appeared, I almost didn’t recognise it; I’d been navigating by sound and touch so long I’d forgotten to use my eyes. As I drew closer I saw it was the reflected glow of the lights in Arachne’s lair. There were hollow caves around here, used as rooms; at a quick glance they held bales of thread and cloth. I was only two turnings away from the lair itself and I knew I had to be silent. Quietly, I moved forward to the T junction that led into the lair. My eyes weren’t yet accustomed to the light, and even the dim reflections off the rock were enough to dazzle me. I didn’t poke my head out; instead I stood with my hand on the rocky wall and looked into the future of me doing so.

It wasn’t my lucky day. It wasn’t really luck of course; it was that Belthas was so bloody thorough. But it was still hard to take. After everything I’d gone through this night I really needed a break, and I wasn’t getting one.

There was good news, bad news, and worse news. The good news, and the biggest surprise, was that Arachne was still in the lair, motionless in the corner, and as far as I could tell she didn’t seem to have been touched. I didn’t understand why Belthas would leave her here after going to so much trouble to get her but I wasn’t going to question it.