Dark Magic (58 page)

“What if they walk? What if they
all
come out and walk into Riverton?”

Roland laughed nervously. “Full of cheery questions, aren’t you boy? Don’t worry about that! These things happen—now and then. Plenty of Faeries about these days, and sometimes they play cruel tricks. I’ll send word to the council and Brand in the morning. They’ll know what to do. Now, about you being out here so late,” the watchman said, but he trailed off.

He turned around and looked up and down the street. Trev had vanished.

* * *

Gudrin had led her company of guardsmen upon a gruesome hunt. They’d spent a week testing and burning out graves in and around Gronig. She had become increasingly concerned as each day passed. Meeting in a private drinking room in the best tavern Gronig had to offer, she called upon Rorvik to go over their efforts with her.

“How many graves have we opened up so far, captain?” she asked, nursing her second mug of ale. She grimaced at the skunky flavor. The ale wasn’t the best, but it was all this faded town could offer.

“Sixty-one, by my count, milady.”

She nodded slowly. “And we’ve lost?”

“Twelve good men. But none in the last two days. We’re getting better at the work.”

They had indeed gotten better. The trick was to dig until they exposed the rotten pustule in the earth with spades—but not to dig so close that they ruptured it. When it was laid bare, almost down to the thin skin of it, Gudrin would come forward and throw in coal. She would fire the coal, using Pyros. The party would then retreat and let the thing cook for a time, sterilizing the ground. Sometimes it popped anyway, and the vile, deadly liquid bubbled up. Then Gudrin had to wade in and burn it out by hand.

“What do you think of our methods?” she asked.

Rorvik hesitated.

“Speak, man! What good is a bodyguard who won’t tell his mistress what’s on his mind?”

“Well, my Queen,” he began, leaning forward. “I think it is insanely dangerous.”

Gudrin snorted. “Not like one of my Kindred guards to worry so much about a bit of Kindred skin.”

Rorvik motioned her to lean closer. They were alone in the private room, but Gudrin leaned forward as he suggested to hear his whispers. She respected the need for quiet talk.

“That’s not what I was thinking, milady,” he said, shaking his head. “I mean the process is dangerous to
you
. Unacceptably so.”

“Well,” said Gudrin, rocking her head back with another slug of ale. She winced as it went down. It was rotgut, through and through. “I’m just another of the Kindred. We can all be replaced, you know. I’m not afraid to face an enemy and burn him down—not even an enemy so strange as this one.”

“That is the core of the problem,” Rorvik said. “You are
not
easy to replace. We could put a new monarch upon the throne in a day, I know. But you wield Pyros. No other Kindred had used one of the Jewels for so long and survived. I think you would be impossible to replace. What’s more, you are the only thing that allows us to destroy this menace with any speed and safety. If one of those things were to pop, just as you approached the open grave….”

Gudrin stared at him. There was wisdom in his words, although she didn’t want to hear it. “You have a point,” she admitted. “Always it was the way of such things. If one builds a perfect weapon, it became too precious to wield, and is thus worse than useless, for now you must care for it and protect it.”

“How can we best use such a unique power then?” Rorvik asked.

“By
not
wielding it, but instead
threatening
to wield it. By frightening our enemies into a peaceful mood.”

“But we can’t do that in this situation. These eggs of fluid growing in the earth—they can’t be frightened.”

“No,” Gudrin said wearily. “Sixty you say?”

“Sixty-one.”

“Do you know how many bodies were buried here in the last war? Including elves, gnomes, Merlings, River Folk and Kindred?”

Rorvik shook his head.

“Ten thousand, easy. And we’ve no way of knowing where they are all buried. Or which of them have been infected.”

Rorvik whitened and drank his ale quietly. Gudrin joined him, and they had a another round before she spoke again.

“We’ll assemble a team of Workers and Mechnicians. I’ll have them bring down a few of the crawlers from their berths beneath Snowdon. They will have to catch new elementals to stoke their boilers.”

“What will they do, my Queen?”

“They will continue to open these wounds one at a time and cauterize them. In the meantime, I’m going to evacuate all the civilians of Gronig. All the other surface towns and trading posts are to be abandoned by good working Kindred as well. We’ll tell everyone it is temporary. A precautionary edict from the crown.”

Rorvik stared at her. “Are things as bad as that?”

She nodded slowly. “I fear so. I’ve been reading the accounts in the Teret of such strange events in the past. There has been a rash of strange happenings all around Cymru, you know. I fear the Dead are on the move again—as they have not been for many centuries.”

“What shall we do if they
all
rise?”

“Why, we shall do as our ancestors did!” she exclaimed. “We shall retreat within our mountain fortresses and ride out the storm. After all, why do you think our ancestors dug so deep?”

Chapter Twelve

The Dungeons Deep

Brand and his party followed Grasty deep into the earth. The stairway continued for a hundred paces or more, until it broadened out into a large chamber. The ceiling was held up here with squat stone pillars. The group of five spread out to explore the space, which was as wide as a keep’s great hall. Brand held his lantern high and looked about with unease. He’d not had positive experiences with underground warrens like these. There was an archway on the northern wall with stairs going downward, but the stairway had been collapsed. Piles of rubble filled the arch. He saw no obvious way of continuing their exploration.

Brand noticed Telyn was studying the stone floor. “Anything interesting?” he asked her.

She pointed here and there. “Droppings and marks in the dust that look like rat-prints, but nothing larger.”

Brand nodded reassured. “I don’t see a row of sarcophagi, at least,” he said to Grasty.

The Kindred foreman ignored him. He busied himself by running his rough fingers over a dusty wall. He muttered to himself, poking and tapping as he went. Brand walked to his side.

“What are you looking for?”

“Eh? Well, I’m not sure exactly. This place was once used as a giant cellar. A place to store foodstuffs and the like.”

Brand nodded. “Sensible enough. I’m surprised it’s not flooded.”

“Oh, there are flooded areas, but the drainage system works here, at least. If you were to crank those three big wheels over on the south wall it should allow the flood into the lower levels. In fact, if you just drove a tunnel from this chamber southward, within thirty yards you’d be swimming in mud.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“Is this all there is to see?” asked Puck, the look on his face reminded Brand of a man smelling fresh manure. He ran his fingers over one of the three big wheels Grasty had indicated. He did not look impressed.

“No, this isn’t all, not by a long shot!” shouted Grasty, working on one of the pillars now, still tapping and scratching. “Before were done here, the prissiest elf in the castle will be impressed, mark my words. We’ll be moving on shortly.”

Brand put his hand to his mouth, covering a smirk. Puck and Kaavi were, of course, the only elves in the castle.

“Why didn’t you tell us this place led to a dead end?” asked Puck.

“Because, we want to go deeper.”

Puck shook his head in bewilderment. Brand shrugged. Grasty heard his own thoughts, not necessarily the questions of others.

“There is
no
exit downward,” Puck pointed out, speaking as if Grasty were a child.

Grasty chuckled and shook his head. “Not right now, there isn’t. And it might not lead directly down—not at first.”

He moved around to the southern wall, still tapping and muttering.

“You said there was mud in that direction,” Telyn said to him.

Grasty squinted up at her. “Good ears you’ve got,” he said with a hint of sarcasm. “The mud is there, but only if we go about a hundred feet or so in this direction. I don’t plan to go so far.”

“I’m sure Grasty is looking for a stairway or some—”

“Found it!” cried Kaavi from across the room. Everyone turned to look at her. She beamed at them. She had one hand on a protuberance that had once  been a torch-brace. She twisted it upside down and a small section of the floor at her feet fell open.

“Well done,” Brand said.

Telyn shot them both a glare, and Brand pretended not to notice. Grasty hurried to the spot, as did everyone else.

Brand noted that Telyn stood very close to him whenever he got near Kaavi. He felt a flash of amusement. Did she think he could not be trusted to stand alone with the elf girl? That Kaavi might grab him and make off with him at her whim? He struggled to keep these thoughts to himself and attempted an easy smile as he gazed down at Telyn.

“You’ve found something, sister,” said Puck. “The question is what? And do we wish to explore such a vile little hole? What is this, an oubliette? How many corpses were stuffed down there by your entertaining ancestors, I wonder, Brand?”

Brand knelt and held his lantern over the circular hole. The feeble glow did not seem to penetrate far. All he could see was the sides of the hole, which were at least formed of stone and mortar rather than crumbling dirt.

“I don’t see a ladder,” Grasty said, rubbing his beard. “I guess we’ll have to lower one of us down on a rope.”

“I’ll do it,” Telyn said. The other four glanced at her in surprise.

“I’m no matron, you know,” she said crossly. “You sent me down into a dragon’s lair last time we went into one of these places, Brand.”

Brand nodded, thinking about how to handle this. If he denied her, he certainly couldn’t send Kaavi. Telyn would take that as an insult. He decided to take a calculated risk.

“Well, whoever goes will have to go down on a rope,” Brand said. “I wouldn’t be light enough to pull back up quickly. I say you are a good choice, Telyn.”

Telyn was delighted. They rigged up a rope quickly and lowered her into the darkness with a lantern and two daggers at her side. She left her bow, saying that if she ran into trouble she’d only get it tangled up, and the best defense would be a quick ride back up on the rope.

She went down, and when only her face was visible, Grasty leaned close. “Now, make sure, milady,” he said. “If you seen any interesting formations—minerals, I mean—please take a sample and bring it back up.”

She nodded and they worked to pay out the rope evenly. Brand turned Grasty a sudden frown. Was that the true reason for this exploration? Did Grasty and the other Kindred hope to find something special down here? He’d not seen any hint of dead-things or much else, other than a few vermin. He began to wonder just what was on the foreman’s mind.

“Do you see anything?” Grasty called down to Telyn. “Anything shiny, I mean?”

“No, it’s some kind of lower cellar from the look of it. Looks a lot like the one you’re in, but smaller.”

“All righty,” said Grasty. “Who’s next down this hole then?”

“What’s the point?” asked Puck. “I mean, if it’s another dead end, we’ve gone as far as we can.”

Grasty chuckled. “No trust at all, is there? Not that I’d expect it from an elf following one of the Kindred underground. What do elves have to learn in the Everdark? Nothing at all! They’ve learned all there is to know about the depths of the earth—no doubt while sitting on treetops!”

“No need to be rude, fellow,” said Puck quietly.

“Quite right, there isn’t. Would I be taking us down here if there was nothing further to see? These warrens are endless and interconnected in a dozen unexpected ways. You didn’t think there was any way out of this room until your sister found one, did you?”

Puck had to concede the point. He went down next, and Kaavi after, as they were lighter than the rest.

Brand was anxious to go after Telyn, but he hesitated. The axe on his back was twitching. It sensed something, but that wasn’t unusual. If there were fish swimming under a riverboat the axe was suspicious. In this place, there were doubtless uncounted vermin and dangers to upset it. In fact, the axe’s agitation only made Brand want to move ahead faster. He didn’t want Telyn to spend any more time down there without him.

“Come on, milord, you’re next,” said Grasty. He ran the rope over his shoulders and paid it out with his leathery hands.

“Can you hold me?”

The old foreman chuckled and nodded his hoary head. “I could hold all four of you—could have held five, a century or so back.”

Brand nodded and took hold of the rope. The hole was a tight squeeze for his shoulders, but he made it through. About twenty feet down, he touched solid rock. He saw the others, who were all poking around the chamber. It was similar to the one above, another empty storeroom. The collapsed stairway stood to the north, clearly a continuation of the one above. Thick stone columns supported the ceiling, as they had in the chamber above. But the three great wheels were absent from the southern walls.

“Not too exciting,” Puck observed drily.

“No,” Brand agreed.

“Any sign of wealth?” asked Grasty from above.

Brand snorted. “Far from it, I’m afraid.”

Grasty sighed heavily. “Too bad.”

Brand looked up at him, frowning. He was about to call up and ask him what they should do next, when Kaavi tapped his shoulder.

“Shouldn’t we bring our packs down?”

Brand smiled. “I’ve got mine,” he said, meaning the axe. He caught Telyn staring at them then. He realized he was standing close to Kaavi and she to him, both of them were smiling and almost touching. Brand cleared his throat and stepped away to grab hold of the rope that dangled down from the chamber above.

“Grasty, send down our packs next man, if you think we can continue.”

“One moment, your lordship!”

Brand turned around to find Telyn staring at him. Her eyes were hooded and her arms were crossed. Could she really be angry about such a small interaction with the elf girl? Did he have to evade females at every moment?

Brand tugged on the rope, taking in a breath to shout up for the packs again. What happened next so surprised him his words died in his throat.

The rope came down when he tugged it. Coils of it fell into his face with a loud, slapping sound. He stared up, mouth open.

“What’s this then?” Puck demanded, stepping close.

“Grasty, you’ve dropped the rope!” shouted Brand.

“Yes, yes,” came a distant mutter. “Just a moment, this thing is stuck.”

They heard distant grunting sounds.

“What’s stuck?” demanded Brand.

They heard a sudden grating sound. “There we go!” Grasty said somewhere above. “I’ve got it moving now. Won’t be a moment.”

They saw, to their shock, the hole above them slowly closing. Like an eye into another world, the disk of stone that had covered it slid haltingly shut.

“He’s closing us in!” Kaavi exclaimed.

“What’s got hold of you, Grasty?” Brand shouted, coming to his senses. He reached back and grabbed the axe.

A surge of fury at this betrayal gripped him and it was all he could do not to slash down everyone near. Spittle flew from his lips.

“I’ll slay your kin, you devil!” he roared.

“My kin is it?” questioned Grasty. “Who’s the devil now, eh? Brand, forgotten lord of dirt and bones.”

“Cover yourselves!” Brand hissed.

“What?” asked Kaavi.

Telyn knew what was coming. She reached out a hand and slapped it hard over Kaavi’s eyes.

Brand let go with a brilliant yellow flash then. A stabbing ray of heat and light flashed up like a sunbeam shining through storm clouds. It shot through the opening in the ceiling, the last crescent of space that led from this tomb they were in to the world above.

There were shouts and cursing, and the disk of stone stopped moving. “Damn you, man,” shouted Grasty. “You know I’ve only got the one eye. I’ll be blinking for the rest of the day now.”

“Why man?” Brand roared. “At least answer me that, after you’ve shamed yourself, your Queen and all the Kindred!”

“I met the Shining Lady after you rejected her, axeman!” Grasty cackled. “You should have taken her deal. Instead, you offered her only insults!”

The
Shining Lady.
Brand thought of his dream, and understood in an instant what had happened. Spurned, she had sought another, a weaker mind to turn to her hand. He had chopped her body apart, but that had only been in a dream. She had gone on to another dreamer, and gotten a different answer.

“You serve the Dead?” roared Brand. “I’ll boil your head, traitor!”

Grasty cackled again. A moment later the disk slid into place and crunched down. They were sealed inside the storeroom below a storeroom—in an underground place of unknown nature.

Brand stood, breathing like a bull ready to charge. Quivering with emotion and pent up energy, he stared wide-eyed up at the distant ceiling. “His whole family!” he muttered.

A small hand dared to touch his elbow. He whirled and held the axe upraised. For a fleeting second, he saw Grasty’s face with those big, loose teeth grinning up at him.

“Brand,” the grinning Grasty said. “Put it away, Brand. It’s me, Telyn.”

Brand was confused. He wanted to strike. He could take that head off with a single sweep. He could see it happening. Blood would jet from the severed neck. The treacherous little fiend would be cut down. It would feel so good! He would be a man again. He, who had been made to look a fool in front of his wife
and
the girl he wanted to bed more than any other.

His wife.
The thought came despite his best efforts to keep it away, and he found the thought painful in his mind. He did not want to think, to reason, but he did anyway, and he could see reality again after a moment. The Grasty who dared touch him was Telyn, of course. He could see her clearly now. Her worried, probing eyes, her downturned mouth.
His wife.