Dark Sun: Prism Pentad 1 - The Verdent Passage (24 page)

At last, templar noticed the light. “What's that?” he cried,
barely making his voice heard above the general clamor.

Sadira gestured at the light, and it danced away as if running. The templars followed,
screaming orders at each other and leaving their burning companions behind to die.

“Now we can go,” Sadira said.

She led her companions forward until she had counted twenty pillars, as Ktandeo had
instructed. “Now where?” she asked. The templars were no more than distant voices of
turmoil, and Sadira was once again relying on her elven vision to see in the dark.

“Turn half a step to the left,” Ktandeo panted, barely able to speak.

“I think we can rest for a minute,” Agis said, supporting the old man. “We seem to have
lost them.”

“What are all these strange columns for?” Sadira asked, inspecting the pillar closest to
her. It had a woodlike grain, but the thing felt like solid rock.

“I assume you're looking at the pylons,” Agis replied, blindly facing Sadira's voice.
“Those are the foundations of the city. This is UnderTyr.”

“Tyr is built on pillars?” Sadira asked. “Why?”

“According to legend, Tyr once sat in the middle of a vast swampÑ”

“That's more than legend,” Ktandeo said weakly, his voice lacking its customary strength.
“But we have more important things to discussÑsuch as the destruction Sadira's
spellcasting caused.”

“What was I supposed to do, let them catch us?” she demanded.

“Yes,” Ktandeo answered, fixing his eyes on the darkness over Sadira's head. “You must
maintain the Balance at all costs. Once you become like the sorcerer-king and his minions,
there's no coming back to our way.”

“I thought you said killing Kalak was more important thanÑ”

A pair of fine-featured men with the arched brows and slender features of half-elves
jumped from behind the pillar at Ktandeo's back. Both wore the heavy cassocks of templars.
One of them stood nearly as tall as a full elf, and the other had an unusually stocky
build.

“Behind you!” Sadira yelled, grabbing Ktandeo and pulling him toward her. “Templars!”

The tall half-elf tossed a rope net in her direction. The square mesh settled over her
shoulders before she could react. Immediately the templar cinched the drawline, and the
bottom of the net contracted, pinning her arms against her body.

Ktandeo activated his cane's violet light.

Though she had little chance of freeing herself, Sadira continued to struggle, hoping to
keep the tall half-elf busy.

“Commander!” cried one of the half-elves. “Over here!”

Ktandeo raised his arms to use his magic, but the stocky templar called the king's name
and pointed a finger at the old sorcerer, casting a spell of his own. Ktandeo's hands grew
stiff, and his incantation came out in a jumble of meaningless phrases. The sorcerer tried
to shrug off the templar's magic, but could do no bet than to move at half the speed of
everyone else.

Agis drew his steel dagger. He sent the stocky half-elf reeling with a kick to the
stomach, then stepped toward Sadira and slashed the rope holding her prisoner.

The tall templar dropped the net and backed away before Agis could strike again. The noble
whirled on the other ambusher, catching the stocky half-elf just as he was recovering from
the first kick. Agis drew his dagger across the man's throat before his sword left the
scab-bard.

The effects of the enchantment upon Ktandeo ended. He took two steps forward and stumbled
over the half-elf Agis had just killed. The old man fell to the ground in a heap.

By the time Agis turned to face the tall half-elf again, the templar had fled into the
dark. Instead of attacking, the noble finished cutting the sorceress free.

“We'd better move,” Ktandeo groaned, slowly returning to his feet. “Look.”

He pointed back the way they had come. Sadira could already see torches moving in their
direction.

“How are we going to escape?” she asked.

“Follow me,” Ktandeo said.

Wheezing and gasping, the old man led the way at a slow run, lighting their path with his
glowing cane. The templar commander's harsh voice echoed behind the trio as he shouted
orders to his subordinates. Each time, the voice was louder.

“Maybe you should darken your cane, Ktandeo,” Sadira suggested. “It's making us easy to
follow.”

It's not my cane they've been following so far,“ he huffed. The sorcerer braced his hands
on his knees and looked ahead, to where the pylon
forest ended. From there the ground sloped down at a steep angle. ”Besides, we're almost
safe."

Ktandeo took a deep breath, then led them down a bank to a small cobblestone courtyard.
Although she was surprised to see such a thing under the city, Sadira had no time to
puzzle over its origin. As they crossed the courtyard, she kept her attention focused over
her shoulder, glancing at the ground only occasionally to look for obstacles. By the time
they reached the other side of the small courtyard, the first templars were standing at
the top of the embankment. They were close enough that she could distinguish between the
ones who had mustaches or beards and those who did not. Many of them had stopped pursuing
and were staring over her head with their jaws drooping open.

Sadira looked forward and saw the reason for their shock. Ktandeo's cane was illuminating
the facade of an immense building of granite block, the likes of which she had never seen
before. A great apron of stairs led up to several pairs of ornate doors, each set into a
high arch covered by a gabled porch. Beautiful windows of colored glass adorned the
gables, each depicting a tall man with the head of an eagle, a huge pair of leathery
wings, and the lower body of a
coiled serpent.

“What is this place?” Sadira asked, awestruck.

“It's the Crimson Shrine,” Ktandeo wheezed, slowly climbing the stairs. “A temple of the
ancients.”

Sadira and Agis froze, for such places were rumored to be the homes of wraiths and ghosts.

“Beneath Tyr?” Agis asked.

“Before Tyr was a swamp, it was a sacred wood,” Ktandeo replied, not bothering to turn as
he spoke. “That was two thousand years ago. The city was built around this temple.”

On the far side of the courtyard, the templar commander barked, “Don't waste time gaping!
If they get inside, I'll send you in after them!”

Sadira and Agis started after the old man. “How do you know all this?” Agis asked.

“I've spoken with those who inhabit the temple,” the old
man answered, reaching the top of the stairs.

As Sadira stepped to Ktandeo's side, the purple light of his cane illuminated the wall
high above them. Four pairs of tall dagger-shaped windows flanked a statue depicting the
eagle-headed figure in flight. In the windows the figure was captured in flight, too, and
from a bucket carried beneath its arm, it was sprinkling rain over a green forest. As she
studied the wall, Sadira glimpsed a black, man-shaped shadow passing behind one of the
dagger-shaped windows. It peered down at Sadira and her companions, setting the slave
girl's heart to pounding with fear. “You aren't thinking of taking us in there?” she
asked. “The pure of heart have nothing to fear in the Crimson Shrine,” Ktandeo said.

Agis followed the sorcerer toward the door, but Sadira did not move. “What do you mean by
'pure of heart'?” Ktandeo pointed his cane at the square below. “You can face the crimson
knights or Kalak's mindbenders. Only you know which choice to make.”

Seeing that a dozen of the king's bureaucrats had already moved halfway across the
courtyard, Sadira said, “I'll try the knights.”

Ktandeo motioned for Agis to open the doors of the temple. The noble obeyed, then stepped
backward in alarm. “By Ral!”

In the doorway stood a wraith dressed head to foot in steel armor. Its visor was open,
revealing two red eyes that looked out from a mass of churning darkness. Over its
breastplate hung a pearly tabard decorated with the eagle-headed figure so prominently
depicted in the temple's facade, and from the crown of its helm rose a fantastic red
plume. The wraith held a tall halberd, and its burning eyes were fixed on Agis.

Beyond the guard lay a cavernous room lit by a thousand candles flickering with a
brilliant red flame. It seemed that every inch of the church had been carved with bas
reliefs of fantastic creatures.

“It's amazing!” Agis gasped. “What keeps all those candles lit, magic?”

“There is no magic in this temple,” Ktandeo said. “Faith keeps the candles burning.”

Sadira cast an anxious eye behind them. The twelve templars had reached the bottom of the
stairs. On the far side of the square, the templar commander was shouting orders to the
rest of his men, sending them along the edge of the embankment to encircle the area.

“If we're going inside, let's do it,” she said.

Ktandeo slipped past the wraith and entered the temple, the violet glow of his cane dying
as he crossed the threshold. The area outside the door grew dim but did not fall entirely
dark. The light of the shrine's candles illuminated the entire stairway.

Agis motioned for Sadira to enter next, but she shook her head. “You first,” she said.

The noble stepped toward the door with his customary confidence and poise. As his foot
crossed the threshold, the wraith struck him across the brow with the butt of its halberd.

“No!” Its deep voice echoed far into the pylon forest.

Agis let out a surprised cry, then stumbled backward holding his bleeding brow.

“Cursed nobles!” Ktandeo growled, half-stepping out of the door.

“Why won't it let him in?” Sadira demanded, addressing her question half to her master and
half to the ghostly guard.

“Because he owns slaves, perhaps, or for some other vice,” the old sorcerer said, raising
his cane and pointing the tip toward the twelve templars on the stairs. “Get down, both of
you.”

As Sadira and Agis obeyed, Ktandeo uttered, “Nok! Quietstorm!”

Sadira felt her stomach tense, then a beam of white light silently shot from the cane's
tip. It illuminated the face of the closest templar. The man's torch went out, and he
quietly crumpled to the ground in a lifeless heap. A second bolt of light shot from the
cane, and Sadira felt more energy being drained from her body. Another templar fell dead.
A third flash followed, and then a fourth and a fifth. Each time, another torch went out,
another templar died, and Sadira felt a little weaker.

By the time the cane flared the twelfth time, Sadira lay on the stones gasping for breath
and fighting to keep from retching. When she could finally lift her head again, she saw
that Ktandeo still stood bathed in light from the interior of the temple. He was hunched
over and struggling to support himself by hanging onto the door. Agis lay to her right,
holding his bleeding head and drawing slow, even breaths.

“You chided me for killing a little ceiling moss?” she gasped.

Ktandeo looked up, seeming immeasurably old and feeble. His whole body heaved with the
simple effort of breathing.

“I have taken nothing that cannot be replenished,” the sorcerer wheezed. “What you did
destroyedÑ” He broke into a fit of coughing. When he finished, he said, “You know the
difference. Now come. If we close the door, perhaps Agis can sneak away in the darkness.”

Agis nodded. “Go on,” he said. “My strength is coming back. I'll be fine. Even if they
capture me, I doubt Tithian will let them do me any harm.”

“I'm not taking that chance,” Sadira insisted, her strength also returning. “We have to
change the guard's mind and get Agis inside.”

“The guard has no mind to change,” Ktandeo answered weakly. “All it has is faith in its
god's teachings, and those teachings prohibit Agis from entering this temple.”

On the far side of the courtyard, another half-dozen templars started down the steep bank.
Agis rose and started to leave, but Sadira caught his arm.

“The god can't still be alive! Kalak would never stand for that beneath his own city,”
Sadira objected. “The guard has nothing to lose by making an exception.”

“You don't understand,” Ktandeo said, pulling himself completely upright. “The gods of the
ancients aren't sorcerer-kings. They were much more powerful, and those who worshiped them
did so with all their heartsÑ not the way the templars worship Kalak.”

“What happened to these ancient gods?” Agis asked.

Ktandeo shook his head. “Like all glories of the past, they faded away. No one knows why.”

Sadira pulled Agis toward the doorway. “I don't care about the decree of some dead god or
a wraith's blind faith in it.”

Ktandeo blocked her way. “To let Agis in, the guard must break its faith,” the old man
said, his voice growing stronger. He pointed toward the interior of the shrine. “Every
time a crimson knight breaks its faith, a candle goes out. Does it look like many lights
have died in the last two-thousand years?”

Sadira did not have time to study the room, but at first glance she did not see any unlit
candles. “If you must stay with Agis, then stay with him,”

Ktandeo said, pulling the door closed until only a sliver of red light escaped the temple.
“Leave me here and go. I'll be safe until my strength returns, and you two will stand a
better chance of escaping without me.”

“Where will I find you again?” Sadira asked.

“I'll find you,” Ktandeo answered, motioning them away. He kept the door cracked open so
he could watch them leave.

Sadira took Agis's hand and fled down the left side of the temple's stairs. It appeared
that the line of templars ahead of them was fairly spread out. She hoped to sneak through
one of the dark places between their glowing torches.

The commander's voice suddenly rang across the square. “They've changed directions!” he
called. “They're moving toward the left side of the square!”

The six templars in the square adjusted their approach accordingly.