Dark Magic (10 page)

Brand and Telyn managed to get their feet moving again. They had to tug at their roan’s reins, as he didn’t like this alien place and tried hard to bolt. After they had fed him carrots and put blinders on him, they managed to lead him down the broad road toward the distant floor, following the road around the curving walls of the mountain.

In the distance on the western side, they could see the great vents, all three of which stood wide. From these all the light and heat of the place came, as they opened upon the furnace that existed many thousands of feet below. Magma chambers belched fire, but for the most part the light and heat was even and steady. Brand wondered what might happen if the magma ever bubbled up in a torrent from the depths of the Earth, as he understood it sometimes did. He shuddered to think of all the Kindred in their vast habitat being burned away to nothing in a wave of molten rock. He could see, however, that many canals had been built to channel away such eruptions to safer areas. Many of the eight strongholds in sight used these deep channels as encircling moats, in fact. Most were full of water, but in he could see how they might be filled with hot lava should the ocean of it ever overflow into the cavern.

“Stop dawdling,” complained Tomkin as they made their way slowly down the path, pointing and gawking like farm boys at a fair. “The vents will close in a few hours, and it’s hard to tell your hand from your tooth down here without it. We’ll be forced to camp upon the road itself.”

Not liking the sound of that, as they were still thousands of feet from the floor of the cavern, they picked up the pace.

As they passed the first of the great towers that stood along the way, Brand better understood their defensive nature. In order to invade the Earthlight from the surface, even if you did manage to blast your way past the fantastic gates, you had to literally press through every one of the towers and castles. They all blocked the only path of entry, squatting directly upon the road itself and there was no way around. Each one had two portcullises that must be passed through to continue on down the road.

It took the rest of the “day” to reach the bottom of the spiraling roadway and to pass all seven of the towers along the way. At the bottom, they were tired, but jubilant to have reached their goal. In the west, the three great vents had closed half-way, dimming the light to a deep red. This was the nightfall for the Kindred. Each day was exactly the same length in the Earthlight, with the opening of the vents and their closing each taking an hour to complete. These hours served as both dawn and dusk. In the day, it was always warmer, and the in the night, when the great vents were shut down to glimmering red slits, it grew cool.

Brand sought an Inn to stay at, but Tomkin persuaded him to seek out Gudrin immediately. Brand agreed the matter was urgent and sent Tomkin ahead to the citadel to tell the clanmaster they had arrived.

Brand watched Tomkin bound off on the task, thinking him perhaps too eager for a mundane duty. He wondered what Gudrin had promised him for this mission’s completion. Probably, more wisdom in the matter of wielding Lavatis. If that was the case, she was indeed worried for Modi’s life. He knew well that she did not approve of Tomkin possessing the Blue Jewel. For her to aid him, she must have been
hard pressed.

* * *

Eyes.

At first, they had thought they were the glittering reflections of the rubies they had yet to pluck from the tunnel walls. But when the eyes stared, then blinked, they knew the truth. These were the eyes of living beings that shone like red fireflies in the darkness.

The eyes retreated as they approached. So smoothly and silently did they retreat, that the Kindred company thought these enemies too cowardly to face an armed foe. The miners laughed at them, snapped crossbow bolts into the dark and sent them scurrying away.

Then the first trap was sprung and they realized that the enemy had a plan. Their foe had been working hard toward their demise all along. The enemy was not so much cowardly, but cunning.

The unlucky miner Dugald was struck by a falling block. The stone, carefully placed and propped in a shaft overhead, dropped when his boot touched a tripwire. The blow did not strike his head, but rather crushed down his right shoulder. The clavicle snapped and the right side of his body was not shorn away, but instead folded down, so that his right arm hung six inches lower than his left. A human so stricken would have passed from consciousness, but Kindred bodies were not built the same way. Being a hardy soul, Dugald did not die immediately. He raved, and when death finally took him it was unclean.

They gathered around Dugald and did what they could for him. All of them were angry, sad and fearful, except for Modi, who was only angry. They fired their crossbows into the dark at the glittering eyes, but struck nothing. Occasionally, heavy obsidian-tipped darts were thrown back at them.

“Kobolds,” said Modi, in the manner of one spitting out a curse. No one argued with him. The evidence was clear. Kobolds rarely dared come near the lands of the Kindred, but here in the Everdark, the hated race plagued them. They must have run into a tribe of them.

“Every step of the way from here to the Earthlight will be full of traps,” said Modi, voicing the fears of them all. He stood with his heavy hands on his hips, frowning into the tunnels. He thought hard before he spoke and every one of his crew hung on his words.

“We can’t continue right into the teeth of them. They will kill one of us each day, always retreating. Therefore, we will camp and conserve our supplies. We will hope for one of three things.”

He put up a thick finger, black with cave dust. “A rescue might come from behind them. They will then be caught between our two forces and we shall paint the walls of this tunnel with their blood.”

The Kindred hooted at this prospect. Revenge for the cooling corpse of Dugald was second in their thoughts now, second only to survival.

Modi continued with his next scenario. “Kobolds are easily bored. They might just wander off on their own, leaving us for their traps. That would give us time to disarm them at our leisure.”

“What is the last possibility, milord?” asked one named Njal, who although lean, carried the biggest pack among them.

“They will grow bored and attack, thinking us weak.”

“And what if they choose that option?”

Modi shrugged his great shoulder unconcernedly. “Then we will slay them all, of course.”

Chapter Ten

The Earthlight

Brand and Telyn stabled their roan in a stone stable that barely cleared his head. Telyn worried that if the roan threw his head in the night, he might be injured. Brand thought a good conk on the skull may do the horse some good.

After all her riding of him, Telyn had clearly developed a closeness with the horse that none other had ever possessed. Brand had to admit that much. She could coax him now into taking a carrot from her mouth and allowed her to scratch his ears at will. Mounting him was no problem for her now; the roan would stand and barely shuffled about when she threw her leg over his back. She had removed the bit from his mouth as well, and Brand had not argued. If she could control the beast, she could ride bareback and he wouldn’t care. The animal needed to be tamed, and he didn’t have the time nor the temperament for the task.

When Tomkin returned, he led two of the Kindred who were clearly citadel guards. Their red cloaks flapped behind them and they huffed as they ran after the bounding little fellow who left them in his wake so easily. Righting their helmets and arranging their jangling chainmail, they snapped salutes to Brand in greeting.

“Please come with us, milord,” they said. Brand and Telyn followed them, carrying their gear. The soldiers insisted on relieving them of their burdens, and after a short time of wrangling, Brand allowed them to do so. He felt silly marching behind the red cloaks, who were armed and armored and still stacked three feet high with baggage. But the Kindred bore these burdens without strain or complaint, so Brand finally sighed and stopped worrying about it. They were like oxen, these people, he thought to himself, shaking his head. Whatever they lacked in speed, they made up triply for it in sturdiness and stamina.

Entering the Citadel of Snowdon was, if anything, more impressive and awe-inspiring than had been their passage through the Great Gates. The structure was both indescribably beautiful and stark at the same time. Carven with lofty towers, all made from a single massive block of black basalt, it reminded Brand of an ice sculpture he had seen once at a Drake clan wedding, but formed all of stone. Banners and tapestries adorned the place. Iron fittings held every doorway, but wood was rarely used except for the six-inch thick doors themselves, which were fashioned of ancient oak.

Following the Kindred through a labyrinth of passages, they finally found their way to Gudrin’s apartments which sat high in a northern tower. Brand and Telyn were glad to meet her and everyone touched hands and shoulders. Brand thought about hugging Gudrin, but stopped himself, knowing that the Kindred were not used to such familiarities. Telyn, however, was not able to contain herself and embraced her. Gudrin tolerated the contact, blinking and standing stock-still.

Tomkin, for his part, stood atop a pile of scrolls on Gudrin’s great desk. He struck a pose that reminded Brand of a cat who had dined well upon wildlife. He seemed pleased with himself.

“What did I say? Can I not deliver that which is promised?” he asked of no one in particular.

Gudrin extricated herself from Telyn and retreated behind her massive stone desk. She shooed Tomkin off her papers and smiled at them.

“I’m very glad you came. I realize you must have used all haste to arrive so quickly. Tomkin, you did very well, and I’m most pleased with all of you.”

The River Folk smiled and Tomkin stood upon another book, but this time further away and out of her easy reach.

“I’m sure Tomkin has told you why I’ve asked for you,” said Gudrin, turning serious. “Modi is missing, he’s a week overdue and one of his company returned injured and bearing grim news. They had, at that time, suffered a single death and requested aid. Modi’s father, Hallr, saw fit to deny the request.”

“Why?” asked Brand. “Is he not interested in the survival of his own son?”

Gudrin studied her blocky hands. “Modi, as you know, is a headstrong individual, even for one of the Kindred.”

Brand had to concede that point. They all nodded.

“Hallr is just like him, only older and possibly more stubborn. To understand, one only has to think how Modi would treat his own son, should that son flagrantly disregard his wishes.”

Brand inhaled, understanding better. His own father had been dead for many years, but he had watched other men battle with their sons. Two strong-willed individuals didn’t always make for the most harmonious family life.

“Yes, but to deny aid... To let him die?”

Gudrin turned up her palms. “These are two extreme individuals. I should tell you that if Modi does survive this, his father will be secretly pleased. Perhaps it is something of a test, something to demonstrate to all watching that Modi might be worthy as a successor to Hallr.”

“Such a succession is not automatically inherited, then?”

“No! Never!” said Gudrin as if scandalized. “The Kindred have no King. We have no lords, at least not in the traditional sense of them. We are not lords, we are clanmasters. That is not the same thing. It is an elected post, selected and elected by elders.”

“But I’ve noticed the red cloaks still refer to clanmasters as lords. And the process is still political in any event.”

Gudrin conceded this point.

“Very well, where is the entrance to the Everdark, and how do I get there?”

She smiled and nodded. “I’m gladdened to hear you speak like that, Brand. It makes me certain I called for the right aid. Perhaps you should freshen yourselves with a single night here first, however?”

“That depends. How long do you think it will take to get down to where Modi was lost? And will I have a guide?”

“I can’t send any of the red cloaks with you. It has been forbidden,” she answered, “But Gamal can guide you. He is of the clan of miners. He is the one who brought us Modi’s message from the deeps in the first place. It is my impression that it will take days to reach Modi, if not weeks.”

“Weeks?” asked Brand, shocked. Just how big of a place was the Everdark? It had only taken them three days to travel here from the Haven.

Gudrin read his mind. “It is indeed a very large place. But that is not what takes so long. Traveling vertically through shafts is nothing like following roads. Think of the effort it would have taken for you to scale those cliffs outside on Snowdon’s shoulders, rather than to have followed a nicely carved road.”

Brand understood and rubbed his face. He had not really thought about what this journey would be like. He had never spent any time below ground in his life. The furthest he had gone underground was probably Gram Rabing’s root cellar, which had two levels to it.

“In the morning then,” he said. “When the Great Vents open.”

And so it was agreed.

* * *

Dawn in the Earthlight. It was a different sort of dawn, with the light that streamed in the window being a deep red at first which built slowly to a brighter yellow-orange. Normally, dawn in the world of wind and sun started off with a bluish color. Brand blinked awake on a stiff mattress and felt a soreness in his shoulders. He reflected that the Kindred liked their beds almost as hard as the stone the bed sat upon. What’s more, his feet hung over the end of the bed, his ankles having floated in free space all night long.

He joined Telyn, who was already up and looking out the window. The window was strange as well. Not only was it a carven circular hole cut through the stone slab of the wall, but it had no glass. None of the windows Brand had seen down in the Earthlight seemed to have glass, it was not needed as there was little in the way of wind and nothing like a rainstorm. They were, after all, deep inside a mountain.

They had spent the night in the inn at the bottom of the great spiraling road that led up to the Gates of Snowdon. The inn they found unremarkable, except for being built of stone slabs, full of grit underfoot and Kindred everywhere else. The beer, of course, was excellent. It served very well to wash the gray dust from their throats.

After a fine breakfast of salamander steaks, toasted mushrooms and “breakfast beer” which seemed to consist of beer flavored with citrus, they were ready to move again.

A miner of the Kindred came up to their table. He was lean of build and his muscles showed in stark relief upon his arms, rippling beneath the skin when he lifted them in greeting.

“I’m Gamal,” he told them simply, “I’m honored to meet friends of Modi.”

Brand and Telyn greeted him warmly. They invited him to breakfast. He hesitated, fumbling with his cap, but then sat and quickly ate his fill.

“We must go immediately,” he said. There was a haunted look in his eyes.

“Do you think they still live?” Brand asked.

Gamal pressed his lips into a line and nodded. “Modi will not die easily. As to the others, I’m not sure.”

Knowing Modi, Brand had to agree. “There’s been no further word?”

“Nothing.”

“We should leave in all haste then. What is the fastest route?”

Gamal shifted uneasily. “There are two paths. One is the route we took to reach the spot. That is safe, but long. We would take at least a week. Maybe ten days.”

“Too long,” said Brand, “what is the second route?”

Gamal licked his lips. “We could head down the shafts near the Earthlight. They are very close to the magma chambers...”

“How long?”

“A day, maybe two. But, milord, it will be hazardous. Possibly deadly,” said Gamal. He lifted his hands and tugged, wincing as he removed his blackened gloves. He revealed his burned fingers. They could see his hands were still oozing blood and charred in spots. Blisters were in evidence up to the wrist. One of the fingers was missing at the mid-point, terminating in a dirty bandage.

Telyn touched his hand and offered to rewrap the wounds. Gratefully, he let her do so.

“I’m surprised that the clan of physicians have done so poor a job,” said Brand, looking on in concern.

Gamal snorted and leaned closer over the table. “I’ve not shown them the wounds. Nothing about this mission is acceptable to some.”

Brand lowered his voice so their conversation was more private. “What do you mean?”

“The warrior clan has spat upon Modi’s quest. The physicians follow their lead, and it is as if we never existed.”

“They shun you? Is this a command of some kind?”

“The Kindred have no King,” quoted Gamal, “but clanmaster Hallr is the closest thing to a King that we do have.”

Brand nodded. In situations without clear leadership, he had learned, the fellows with the weapons tended to run things.

Tomkin declined to go with them, saying that his kind were creatures of the open forest not dank caves. He was obviously anxious to work with Gudrin, who had promised him help with mastering the Blue Jewel. Brand didn’t object to him staying behind. Even if he had been able to really wield Lavatis, what good was sky magic miles beneath the surface? He would not be able to summon the Rainbow down here. It would be best, as an ally of the Haven, that Tomkin learned to properly control the Blue Jewel.

For similar reasons, he didn’t ask that Gudrin travel with them. Her wisdom would be appreciated, but she was old and relatively slow. This was supposed to be a rescue mission and speed was of the essence in such affairs.

Lastly, they left behind the roan in the stables. The horse didn’t even like the Earthlight, and there was no point in trying to take it into the Everdark. So it was that only Telyn, Brand and Gamal who loaded themselves up with all the supplies they could and hiked toward the Great Vents.

As they approached, the ground grew more unstable. There were cracks everywhere, some of which gusted up hot air into their faces as they passed. The further they went, and hotter it became. Soon, they tread in the hot ash near the Great Vents. These incredible constructs, which had seemed huge at a distance, came to tower over them.

It was only as they came close that Brand realized just how massive the three louvers that made up the Great Vents were. Each mechanism was taller than a tower, perhaps a hundred feet high. They were far longer than tall, perhaps a half a mile wide. He had always been impressed by Kindred engineering, but he was now beyond impressed. He was stunned. In Riverton, a three-story building was a big achievement and rarely seen. He felt his people were simple and backward in comparison.

As they drew closer, they met up with the workers who manned the vents. They were an unforgiving group. The clan of mechnicians were not know as social butterflies.

“What business have you here?” demanded the first that they met. She was dressed all in black leather—black because it had been scorched, not dyed. She carried a huge wrench over her shoulder, a bar of greased dirty iron that must have weighed a hundred pounds.

“Excuse me,” said Gamal of the miners. Brand noted that all the Kindred, no matter how high their clan, tended to show respect for others if they were clearly treading upon their territory. Even a warrior, for example, would show deference to a farmer if he was tromping across a patch of cultivated mushrooms.

“I have with me two visitors who’ve come from far lands to admire the Earthlight in all its glory.”

This softened the attitude of the mechnician. She raised her thickly gloved hand to them. “They are not properly attired,” she said. “They sweat already, and we are not yet to the green zone. If you take them to the purple, they will swoon and die in minutes.”