The Cult of Sutek (34 page)

The bodyguard shuddered. Everything else happened so fast Rondel barely caught it all. One moment Andrasta’s knee was in Nizam’s groin, the next her blade slid from Nizam’s and sliced across the side of his head, severing an ear.

He reeled back and Andrasta lunged, piercing the man’s side under the armpit. She withdrew the blade and slashed it across his stomach. Nizam dropped to his knees. Andrasta took off his head with one more swipe.

She walked toward them without pausing.

Rondel remembered her comment about Fern. “You did it.”

“I told you not to help me. No matter what,” she said. It was the first time Rondel truly saw the woman tired.

“I didn’t do anything.”

Her eyes flicked to the sword in his hand. “You were about to.”

Rondel braced himself for a fist to the gut or at least a tongue lashing for being ready to go against her wishes.

“Thank you,” she whispered as she passed him.

Rondel’s eyes widened. He was about to say “you’re welcome,” but Andrasta was busy limping toward the tunnel that led up to the ledge encircling the chamber near the ceiling.

The others were just ahead of her.

Rondel hurried after them.

* * *

By the time they reached the stone platform overlooking the altar, other cultists had staggered into the chamber. Rondel briefly looked over the half wall.

Panic dominated the cultists’ behavior.

Their leader is dead.

Rondel didn’t stick around to see what the cultists did next as thundering explosions sounded once more.

Too tired to waste the energy, none of Rondel’s companions spoke while snaking up the tunnels out of the underground hell.

It was midday when they reached daylight. Rondel used his good hand to shield his squinting eyes. Though the light was a nice welcome after the claustrophobic darkness below, the heat beating down on them did nothing to relieve their exhaustion.

The climb down the mountain was painstakingly slow, even with Jahi’s steps available to them.

Rondel was the last to reach the bottom, helped down by Andrasta. The girls were already drinking from the water seepage Jahi had shown them.

He managed a smile after he and Andrasta took their turn at the water. “I’m tempted to say a prayer to the gods for actually smiling down on us for once. I thought the urilaudium explosions might have covered the water.”

“What gods would you pray to?” asked Andrasta.

Rondel frowned. That was a good question. Each culture had its own pantheon. And though many shared similarities, the god of Bratanic was remarkably different than any god in Iget. He hadn’t thought about his god in some time.

“Wodan is the god of my country, but I haven’t prayed to him in years. Probably why I was only tempted to say a prayer and not moved enough to actually utter one.”

Andrasta tilted her head. “You don’t ever curse his name either.”

“No. I curse all the gods because it isn’t just Wodan that I have no use for.”

Andrasta laughed. “My thoughts as well. I don’t know if I can ever remember praying to the gods of Juntark. However, if the mood does strike me to pray, it will be after we make it through The Blood Forest.”

Rondel rose to his feet and stared at the edge of white trees adorned in crimson leaves. “Good point.”

“How are we going to get through?” asked Jahi. “I don’t have the strength to do half of what I did last time.” He paused. “I don’t think any of us do.”

Rondel looked him over and saw how tired he was from his battle with Menetnashte. “Can you manage the occasional ball of fire with any accuracy? It doesn’t have to be large.”

“I think so.”

“Good.” He turned to Andrasta. “Can you throw a couple rocks into the trees?”

She raised an eyebrow. “You really think it’s still there?”

“I’d rather know for sure. Wouldn’t you?”

The woman snatched up a few stones, walked closer to the trees and started humming them into the trees. On the third throw, a familiar sound shook Rondel’s bowels.

“Ah, such a sweet voice.” His sarcasm choked down his fear as he walked toward the roar’s origination.

“What was that?” Oni asked in a shaky voice.

“Ammit,” said Jahi. “Yes, it’s real. As is every other nightmare you’ve heard about The Blood Forest.”

“And we’re going in there?” asked Dendera.

“No other option,” said Rondel.

He bent down and removed a clay container from his pocket. He took out a small knife and shaved some of the clay off of one side of the container so it was weaker. Setting the container on the ground near the forest’s edge, he placed stone around three of the four sides of the container to help redirect the blast of the chemicals through the weakened part of it.

He jogged back to the others, wincing with each step.

Gods, this is going to be a hard journey out.
His hands brushed up against his pockets.
At least I still have that bit of food. Though it won’t go far between us.

After he moved everyone into position, as far away from the container as possible, he gave Jahi the signal.

A small flame formed in the boy’s hand. He took his time crafting it while taking aim. Everyone rolled into balls as far away from the container as possible.

The howling blast sent dust and loose stone down from the mountain. The only sound louder than the explosion itself was the following cry of Ammit. No longer did it scream with frustration, but with agony.

They stared out at the trees. The urilaudium and kilogen infused blast carved a blackened corridor into the woods. Fading thunder and snapping trees sounded as the fleeing Ammit crashed through the forest, wailing. Blood and bits of grayish flesh marked the trees to the left of the path caused by the explosion.

“Too bad there isn’t a verse in your song about this.”

Rondel looked over at Andrasta. She wore a small grin.

Jahi cleared his throat. “How about ‘To fight the Ammit, one would have to be a fool. That is unless you’ve come prepared with the right tools?”

Rondel snorted. “Needs some work. But it’s a good place to start.”

“Well, how about—”

“Later,” cut in Andrasta. She pointed to the forest floor where a few of the vines and splintered trees already began trying to reclaim the scar caused by the explosion. “We need to move.”

They set out at a fast walk down the charred path.

“Do we have enough of those clay containers to get us to the other side?” asked Oni.

Rondel stared at the end of the path that he had created and frowned. He checked his pouches.

Only four left.

“Maybe,” said Rondel, hustling ahead of the others before someone asked him to explain.

Chapter 20

Jahi walked three steps out of The Blood Forest and collapsed. Dendera fell beside him. Oni and Nailah buried their heads in the grass, heaving for air. Rondel lay on his back, limbs splayed out as his chest rose and fell. Even Andrasta rested on all fours, sweat drenched hair falling over her face.

“See. I…told you…we’d make it. No…problem,” huffed Rondel.

Andrasta grunted.

We’re alive.

The journey through The Blood Forest had been arduous. They stopped only for water or to relieve themselves and even then both were done hurriedly. Rondel used every one of his clay containers, telling Jahi to ignite them only when they were in trouble.

Despite, the initial damage inflicted on Ammit, the stubborn beast returned twice more before finally leaving them alone for good. They heard the laughter of the rackals only once. A blast of a clay container sent them running. They and every other creature in the forest outside of Ammit decided it wanted no part of their group.

Still, they never stopped running.
Or shuffling, by the end of it.

Now that they had stopped, Jahi didn’t know if he’d ever get up.

Hoof beats tickled his ears. He found the energy to rise, though much slower than he would have liked.

By the time his feet got under him, a faint ball of fire rested in the palm of his hand. He kept it hidden behind his back. Andrasta stood out front with sword drawn. Rondel slid over beside her, doing his best to match the warrior’s stance and failing miserably due to obvious fatigue.

Over a hundred horses galloped toward them.

“What do we do?” asked Jahi.

“Try not to look scared,” said Rondel.

“We can’t possibly fight them all,” said Oni.

“Just let me do the talking,” Rondel said. “I’ll figure something out.”

Jahi heard the doubt in his voice.

Dendera shouted. “That’s Captain Seker! Those are father’s men.”

Before Jahi could stop her, Dendera found the energy to take off toward the horsemen. He and the others followed.

Seker signaled a halt. He leaped from his mount, ran over, and took a knee before Jahi and Dendera. “My lord and lady. This is a great day. We saw the mountain explode yesterday.”

Jahi winced, recalling the emotions they had all gone through when realizing those they left behind had blown the chemical stores in the cult’s headquarters.

Seker continued. “We thought you were dead. This was our last pass around the mountain before returning to Girga.”

His head remained bowed. Dendera touched his shoulder. “Gods, Captain, please stand up.” He did and Dendera hugged him. “It’s so good to see you.”

Surprise shone brightly in the captain’s eyes. He didn’t know what to do or where to place his hands as Dendera squeezed him. He held his arms out like a bird spreading its wings.

Jahi stepped closer. “How’s Father? He must have woken up in quite a rage to send so many of his men after us.”

Seker’s face turned grave, his mouth a pronounced frown. “My lord, your father is dead. He died several days after you left. I came on my own accord. I’m sworn to protect the king of Girga. You are now him.”

Jahi had known his father’s death was a possibility, but the news still struck him like a blow to the head.

The captain continued to talk. Jahi knew this because he could see the man’s mouth moving. Yet, he heard nothing. Dendera stepped into his line of sight, tears streaking down her dirt-covered cheeks. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his neck.

Chapter 21

Dendera rose slowly from the warm bath, letting the water drip down her frame. The cool air caused bumps to form on her skin, yet she was in no hurry to step from the tub. At least for the moment, she felt clean.

They had returned to Girga three days ago. She slept long at night and spent the days napping, crying, and bathing. No matter how hard she tried, she felt as though she couldn’t quite wash away the dirt, grime, and blood.

Especially, the blood.

Aware once more of all that she had been through, she thought about calling for another tub of fresh water even hotter than the last which had left her skin red. She knew it would do no good. She was cleaner than she had been in months. Only time would wash away the blood.

Dendera had been too caught up in their journey through the mountain labyrinth and subsequent race through the hellish Blood Forest for her to fully feel the depth of those who had given their lives so she and Oni could escape. She had known them briefly, but many she thought of as friends. The memory of their faces hovered before her at times. Tears often followed.

I’ll never forget them. Nor their sacrifice.

However, the news of her father’s death struck her hardest.

I never got to make amends.

She had sobbed uncontrollably that first night, lying next to Jahi like a frightened little girl. She smiled ironically at the fact that their roles had reversed. Dendera wondered if she had given Jahi as much comfort when their mother died as he was giving her. She knew their father’s death bothered him. Yet, he had not shed a tear where she could see and doubted he ever would.

Her one solace during the ride back to Girga was that at Jahi’s command, Captain Seker left half his men behind to patrol the mountains and round up survivors, executing any cultists immediately while also returning any servants or girls who managed to escape to their homes. They received word yesterday that Jahi’s men had killed over thirty cultists and saved four women and five servants.

Oni had returned to Akor with an escort. She promised to tell her father all that had happened. With Menetnashte dead and the cult eliminated, she also promised Jahi would not have to worry about a threat to his lands from Menetnashte’s successor.

No longer father’s.

Only one thing left to do.

Dendera stepped out of the tub and threw on a robe. She walked to her wardrobe where a golden gown hung. It had been her mother’s once, and Jahi brought it to her earlier to try on.

It fit perfectly.

To think that I’ve grown so much since her death.

Her brother wanted her to look her best as he was hosting a great dinner, combining a remembrance for their father, a celebration of their safe return home, and a memorial for those who gave their lives when escaping.

Jahi hid his emotions well from most but she knew he was nervous. He returned to Girga a hero, with stories of his role in her rescue circulating quickly throughout the city.

Thanks to Rondel.

But soon the nobles will be looking to take advantage of Jahi.

She had no doubt her brother could handle himself. People had a tendency to underestimate him because of his age. However, she would see that he didn’t struggle. He was all she had left and no matter what he asked of her, she would do.

Even marry King Kafele. Something I should have done for father without complaint.

She disrobed and began to slip on her dress for the evening. Dendera wanted to look at herself in the mirror one last time in her mother’s dress before calling in servants to help her get ready.

* * *

Rondel closed his eyes briefly and listened to the music as his favorite part approached. He winced when the lute player fumbled the chord progression in the second run through the chorus. Even though the woman recovered quickly, masking her error in a way that few could ever tell her mistake, Rondel still shook his head. He had never gotten tripped up in
Hermast’s Fall.