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Authors: Stephanie Bedwell-Grime

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BOOK: The Deadwalk
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With her hands bound, there was no way she could punch him in his insolent
face. Riordan butted her shoulder into his chest.

Rau anticipated her move. Catching her, he absorbed the impact with his arms.
Laughter rumbled through his chest as he held her away from him.

“You certainly have spirit, Your Majesty, but as a tactician you leave a
great deal to be desired.”

Riordan debated biting off his lips.

“Merely another point in my argument,” Rau continued merrily. “In its last
dying moment, Kanarek finally breaks out the Warrior Princess and its aging
Captain.”

“We had no way of knowing whether the prophecy would come to pass. And
Nhaille is not old,” she spat at him. “You'd best not mock him, Rau. You may yet
meet your end at his hand.”

But Rau merely laughed harder. “Oh ho! You have a fondness for the old man,
don't you? Well, I guess that's to be expected after being locked up in the
forest together all those years.” He waved a finger at her. “Now what would your
father say? Assuming he could still talk.”

Riordan felt her mouth dropping open before she could prevent it. “Nhaille
and I are not lovers!”

“Indeed?” Rau asked with mock interest.

The flame inside roared to life. Having no other method of striking out, she
rammed herself against him. Chuckling, Rau wrapped his arms securely around her,
preventing further movement.

“Now, now, Your Majesty. If you'd think about it for just a moment, you'd
know the truth when you heard it.”

“You wouldn't know truth if it bit you,” she snarled. And how I'd like to
bite you. I'd rip out your throat with my own teeth. Already I can taste your
blood!

“As I was saying. Kanarek finally breaks loose its virginal Princess, who we
find now, has fallen in love with her loyal servant the legendary, but aging
Captain Nhaille. Belatedly, they set out to cross the desert and release the
Sword.” He recited the story as if telling it to a young child. “Whereupon they
meet their enemy, the victorious Prince Rau.”

Riordan craned her neck and spat in his face.

Still laughing at his own humor, Rau wiped the spittle from the side of his
face and continued.

“Whereupon they meet their enemy. Seeing there are two of them and only one
of the lonely Prince, do they kill him in cold blood?”

The question hung between them.

“No. Of course not. Being Kanarekii, they bungle the entire deed. And the
Prince takes the Captain, who isn't your lover, hostage.”

He turned her chin toward him.

“And the Princess, pardon me, The Queen, what does she do?”

Rau waited for her answer. When none came he said, “Does she sacrifice the
man she doesn't love, so she can see the Haelian beast put to justice?”

Sapphire eyes stared down into hers.

“Did she, Riordan-Khun-Caryn?”

“Justice has yet to be served,” Riordan growled.

“Is that so?”

Answering his own question, he said, “We shall see. But we have not ended our
story. It would seem the prophesied avenger of Kanarek does not have much
stomach for war.”

Oh, just you wait, Prince.

“And what did our brave Queen do? She sacrificed her own life to save that of
her lover.”

“He's not my lover. And what would you know of loyalty?”

“Had you let him die, you could have turned the course of this entire
war.”

And I will, my Prince. I promise you that.

“But no, the good Queen thought with her heart instead of her brain. Just
like her father, she threw away her chances.”

“And what you did was honorable?” The words burst from her lips, in spite of
her vow to prove him wrong and think with her head. “Leveling an entire kingdom
and enslaving its dead into your army was preferable?”

“Preferable to losing.”

“There wouldn't be a war if it wasn't for you, Rau.”

“Wouldn't there?” he asked mildly. “It seems to me it was only a matter of
time.”

“A matter of time for what? Before an abomination like you was born?”

“Only a matter of time before someone found the map to the Sword and went to
dig it up,” he said calmly. “If it wasn't me or my kin, it would have been you
or yours. The Shraal for all their great talk, left relics to their greatness
all over. Did they think no one would ever decipher what was written?”

“You don't bear the markings of a Shraal.”

But he did, she thought suddenly. Shraal madness shone within Rau like a
flame.

“What does it matter?” Rau asked easily.

He knows. The knowledge seeped slowly into her brain. He knowss the Sword can
only be used by one of Shraal blood.

Did Rau's madness mean Shraal blood coursed in his veins? Or was his insanity
of his own making?

“You're wrong,” Riordan said, maneuvering the conversation away from the
Sword. “I don't think your father would have ever gone after the Sword or the
Amber for himself.”

“The King is a man of limited vision.”

“And you are not.”

“Obviously.”

“The King will be proud of your accomplishments then?”

Rau stiffened against her, and she knew the comment had hit its mark.

“He will,” Rau said, without conviction.

“That's good.” Riordan added a fair measure of sarcasm. “I'd hate to think
the murder of my people was without cause.”

Her sarcasm, however, was not lost on Rau.

“As I said, the Kanarekii have no vision.”

“So you said.”

“I merely speak the truth.”

“It is equally true Hael is without compassion.”

“Compassion is a useless emotion.”

“A personal failing you were kind enough to point out to me. I shall try to
rid myself of this weakness.” She offered him a frigid glare. “Especially where
you're concerned.”

Her comment restored Rau's good humor. “Still plotting my untimely
demise?”

“I've given little thought to anything else.”

“I'm flattered I warrant so much of your attention, Your Majesty.”

“Indeed, you fascinate me.”

Rau raised his eyebrows, waiting for the insult he was sure was coming.

“Just as thunderstorms fascinate me.”

Mistaking her words for a compliment, he beamed back at her.

“All noise and wind with little substance.”

His smile faded to a dark frown. In that instant he did resemble the sky
before a storm. Riordan waited for the first explosion.

But instead Rau said, “I assure you, Your Majesty. There is plenty of
substance to me.”

“Ah yes, the songs they'll sing, the monuments they'll build in your name.
And what then Rau? Will that keep you warm on the cold nights when the ghosts of
my family come to haunt you?”

His fury she expected, anything but the thoughtful way he cocked his head and
studied her. His hand cupped her chin and turned her face toward him. “The
monuments could be built in your name as well, Riordan.”

“Your Majesty,” she corrected him, covering her shock. “We are not friends,
Rau.”

Gods! Is the snake really asking me to join forces with him? You really don't
understand at all, do you, Rau?

“We could be.” He said the words so softly, she wasn't sure she heard him
properly. His hand brushed the swell of her breast.

Anger soared within her until she could feel nothing but its blinding
flame.

“What is it that drives you!” Only the leather bonds stopped her from
throwing up her hands in utter frustration. She had to distract him from the
topic of an alliance. “Is the songs, the monuments, the people bowing down
before you? Or the killing itself?”

Foregoing caution, she brought her head down close to his and whispered, “Are
you so cold and empty inside that you have to fill yourself with the lives of
others to feel whole?”

Riordan felt the slow shudder of his anger.

“You understand nothing! And I was a fool to think it might be possible for
us to be friends.”

Her eyes widened at the sheer incredulity of his statement. “Friends! You
killed my family, you reduced my kingdom to rubble! Make no mistake, Rau. You
and I will never, ever be friends.”

“And you just threw away the opportunity to save your life.”

“Did I?” she hissed back. “I rather think it was the other way around.”

Rau was shaking his head. “You could have had it all, Riordan. You could have
ruled beside me. From Hael to Golar and everything in between. I offered you a
place at my side. And you threw it away. And for what? For stupid, Kanarekii
pride.”

“My ancestors built an entire kingdom with that stupid Kanarekii pride.”

“Where is your proud kingdom now?”

“In my heart.”

His laughter echoed off the crystal mountain face.

“That is the difference between us,” she snapped. “There is nothing in
yours.”

He reigned his horse in abruptly, nearly unseating her.

“This conversation is futile. Arguing with one of your kind is worse than
useless. Have it your way, Your Majesty. Die like your father with your precious
pride intact.”

“I wouldn't expect you to understand,” she shot back, quoting him.

“And you're right, I wouldn't.”

Riordan twisted away from him. “Fine, then let's agree to continue hating
each other. I much prefer that arrangement to ruling at your side.”

“You may pay for that preference with your life.”

She stared up at the jagged wall of crystal that towered far past her line of
sight into the sky. “So be it.”

Her words sounded inordinately loud to her own ears. She became aware for the
first time, that there was no sound save for the steady tread of Rau's stallion
and the soft whisper of their breath.

No wind, no hiss of sand on sand. In contrast the desert teamed with life
compared to the mountains. The entire landscape was barren, lifeless. And yet,
it vibrated, like a single note struck on a fine piece of glassware.

Above her the mountains loomed in all their crystalline glory. Pale purple
seemed to bleed from the ground into their roots, fading to glassy pink where
they touched the sky. The setting sun touched their peaks in a prism of
crimson.

Even Rau seemed awed. Every footstep, every uttered breath reverberated with
tinsel clarity off the myriad quartz outcrops. It was easy to believe magic
ruled in this unearthly territory. The cold breath of Shraal ghosts ruffled the
hairs on the back of Riordan's neck. She shivered, longing suddenly for the
oppressive heat of the desert and the clear, open sky.

And now, she thought with a pang of cold fear, comes the moment for which I
was born.

The only problem was that she'd memorized only the path across the desert,
she hadn't had time to memorize the route through the labyrinthine tunnels of
the mountain.

How long will it take Rau to figure that out?

She fought back a sudden wave of panic.

The timbre of the vibration changed. Riordan turned her head toward it,
called by its strange song.

The Sword, she realized with a shock of recognition. Out of the corner of her
eye, she cast a glance back at Rau. But he was still eying the imposing peaks of
the mountains above. And in the same instant came the awareness that Rau
couldn't hear it.

Shraal magic. It hadn't failed her after all.

With a hiss of metal, she felt Rau's blade suddenly at her throat.

“And now, Your Majesty. You will lead me to the Sword of Zal-Azaar.”

 

 

 

 

The Deadwalk
CHAPTER TEN

 

Riordan drew in a shallow breath, afraid to move and press her throat any
harder against the razor-sharp edge of Rau's sword. He shoved her toward the
foot of the jagged quartz mountain range.

“Lead me to the entrance.”

What now? If Rau discovers I don't know exactly where the chamber is, he'll
kill me.

But in that second, she realized she did in fact know. The timbre of the
sound changed, drawing her head to the left. Careful of the pressure of Rau's
sword, she tilted her chin ever so slightly upward. Between nearly identical
peaks of crystal she made out the shadowed indentation of an entrance. The
gateway to the mountain. Following the route back down, she realized that what
she'd taken for random sproutings of quartz was in fact a well-concealed
pathway. And that knowledge posed another problem.

She couldn't enter the Sword's sanctuary, dragging Rau behind her. Especially
after his stinging remarks about her lack of talent as a tactician.

See how fast I'm learning, Prince?

Most definitely the risks would be cut in half if she could rid herself of
Rau before she entered. But how? Stalling for time, she titled her head so she
could see him out of the corner of her eye.

“And if I don't know exactly where it is?”

“You lie.” The pressure of his sword increased. She didn't dare breathe,
didn't dare swallow. Another fraction of an inch and he'd slit her throat.

“I said I didn't know exactly. Not that I didn't know.”

“The whereabouts of the Sword is a Kanarekii secret.”

She played a delicate game, trying to keep Rau from the Sword's chamber while
attempting to escape with her throat intact.

“How do you know the secret didn't perish with Kanarek? You did after all,
burn most of the city to the ground.”

“The map was not among the wreckage.”

“Perhaps you should have looked before you burned the city.”

“And you should dispense with this juvenile game you're playing. If you don't
know the Sword's whereabouts, I have no reason to keep you alive, now do I?”

“I thought you liked me,” she snapped, in spite of herself. Rau's company
brought out the worst of her nature.

“I've changed my mind.”

“Fickle, aren't you.” The words slipped past her lips before her brain could
call them back.

“You, Your Majesty, are a colossal fool. Not only do you scoff at my offer of
an alliance, you would have me slit your throat not steps from the Sword's tomb
rather than take me there.”

Well, you've got that part of it right, Doan-Rau.

The weight of his words swung in the balance.

“We're going to have to climb,” Riordan said finally. “The entrance lies
several feet from the ground. And no, as I told you, I do not know where
exactly. But it's more than you will find out by yourself, so you're just going
to have to trust me.”

“Scant likelihood of that,” Rau said, his lips only inches from her ear.

He glanced upward, scanning the mountain face for signs of the Sword's
entrance. Finding nothing obvious, he scowled. Relaxing his grip on his sword,
he shoved her toward the jagged thatches of crystal. “Climb then.”

Those spiked clusters of rock could easily slice a man in half, she thought,
putting her foot against the first of them, leading Rau deliberately away from
the path to the entrance.

I'm not sure this is an improvement in my tactical ability, but it beats
leading him to the Sword's door. As long as she didn't fall and render the whole
exercise useless.

Riordan gripped a bolt of crystal, testing its strength. Surprisingly strong,
it held her weight without difficulty. Hauling herself up after it, she began to
climb.

“Not so fast.” Taking out a length of leather thong, Rau tied one end
securely around her foot and fastened the other about his middle. “Wouldn't want
you getting too far ahead of me.” He smiled, an unnerving expression that didn't
warm the ice in his eyes, and gestured to the crystal mountain. “Please
continue, Your Majesty.”

She noted that while Rau didn't sheath his sword, he tucked it through the
belt at his waist, keeping it close at hand.

Dropping it would be too much to hope for, now wouldn't it?

Stretching herself out to her full length, Riordan reached for another
handhold. Deliberately, she led Rau away from the pathway she knew extended mere
feet to her left. Crevices and handholds were fewer on that side, further apart.
The path had been fashioned there for a reason, constructed out of the natural
crevices in the rock. Scaling the mountain face made the game all the more
dangerous.

Lot of good it'll do, if I kill myself. Unless, of course, I drag Rau with me
into the afterlife.

Her foot precariously balanced on a narrow bolt of quartz, her knee wedged
against another, she dug her fingers into the jagged rock and flung her free
hand toward the narrow outcrop above her.

The world swayed beneath her. Jagged quartz sliced into her flesh, but she
forced her hand to close around it. Beneath her fingers she felt the stickiness
of blood. But for the moment she rested there securely. Her eyes closed in
relief and she hung there panting, afraid to look up or down.

Amazing how even that distance above the ground could set her heart pounding.
I can't believe we climbed so far so fast. She vowed to slow down as much as
possible before Rau got impatient.

From a few feet below came his labored breath, as he hauled himself up the
mountain.

That's good. You just hold on real tight now, Rau. Wouldn't do for you to
fall off the mountain and take me with you.

Slowly, she dragged her leg across the rough rock, searching for a foothold.
Already her hands stung with a multitude of tiny cuts. Her bare knees showed
through tears in her breeches.

The toe of her boot connected with a narrow bolt of crystal. Riordan wedged
her foot against it and tested it with her weight. Leaning on it, she stretched
out her right arm, searching high above her head for the next handhold.

Below her, she heard Rau panting as he mirrored her actions.

She found the handhold, wrapped her fingers around it and prepared to moved
her other leg.

A tinkle, like the sound of glass falling, and the entire slope seemed to
fall out from under her. She heard the crack before she felt the crystal give
beneath her foot.

Riordan dug in her fingernails and held fast. Crystal shards rained down the
mountain.

Several feet beneath her, Rau swore, realizing belatedly the flaw in his
strategy of joining the two of them with rope.

And who's the better tactician now, My Prince?

Her foot scraped against sheer quartz, searching for any crevice deep enough
to accommodate the toe of her boot. She found a shallow indentation, wedged her
foot against it and swung for a more secure resting place with her other
hand.

But crystal crumbled beneath her fingers, throwing off her balance. She hung
even more precariously above the dizzily swirling ground.

Biting her lip, she extended her hand, grasping after a bolt of crystal
strong enough to hold her weight while she searched for a more secure
foothold.

Rau crept up the mountain behind her, carefully avoiding the unstable spots
that had nearly knocked Riordan from the mountain. He was gaining on her, out to
her left, a few feet below her.

Not good. Riordan forced herself to quickened her pace. She couldn't have him
racing ahead of her toward the Sword's tomb.

As if the Sword sought her out, the timbre of its vibration increased.
Searching for her, confused as to why she insisted in moving in the other
direction.

Perhaps I should have taken the path after all. Riordan dug her toe into
another indentation and hoisted herself to the next rise. She cast a quick
glance at the ground and instantly regretted it. Maybe I should have let Rau
take his chances with the Sword.

Rau inched closer, practically neck and neck with her now. His eyes roved
over the jagged quartz, searching for a shadowed indentation that could be the
entrance. He looked back at her, eyes dark with suspicion, and Riordan knew
she'd shortly have to dream up another tactic to keep him satisfied.

“How much further,” he demanded between panting breaths.

“We're close, I'd imagine.” Riordan hiked herself up another few inches.

“I'd have thought the entrance would be closer to the ground.”

“It wasn't in the Shraal's interests to make it easy to find,” she said with
as much indignity as she could muster.

“And what game do you play now, Your Majesty?” His hand moved toward the hilt
of his sword.

Oh no, this is it. Riordan searched her mind for a viable excuse.

A loud crack split the air. Instinctively, Riordan clutched the crystal wall,
nails digging deep into crevices in the rock. The narrow outcrop Rau leaned on
crumbled in a rain of crystal shards. Quartz fragments careened down the
mountainside in a series of high-pitched notes. In a blur, she watched Rau
tumble from his perch, felt the rope snap tight around her ankle. Rau's sword
clattered forgotten to the rock below.

She hugged the sheer face of the mountain, anchoring her foot to the narrow
ledge on which she stood, praying it wouldn't pick that moment to disintegrate.
Rau's scream echoed off the many-planed crystal, fragmenting and reverberating
back upon itself.

Yanked by the taut thong of leather, her foot was dragged closer to the edge.
Mere inches stood between her and a downward plunge to the jagged teeth of
crystal below. Recovering himself, Rau gripped the leather. Bracing his feet
against the rock, he began to climb.

The timbre of the Sword's hum sharpened, grew louder. Despite her efforts,
Rau's weight dragged her foot closer to the edge.

Now or never, the Sword seemed to sing to her.

Her toes slipped over the side. Riordan dug her nails in harder.

Pointing her foot, she let the downward drag of Rau's weight loosen her boot.
The leather caught upon her heel.

Riordan strained her leg, curling her toes back toward her heel in an attempt
to wiggle her foot from the boot. She glanced down. Oblivious to her strategy,
Rau made steady progress toward her. She felt the heel of her boot give. Her
foot slipped from the leather.

Rau glanced up just as the rope went slack.

For a moment he stared up at her incredulously. Swiftly his expression
changed from anger to stark cold fear. Bare footed, Riordan scrambled for the
next foothold, afraid to glance below and watch him fall.

He screamed, a sound full of rage and terror, abruptly silenced.

The sickly sound of flesh meeting hard rock reached her many feet above.
Riordan fixed her gaze upon the natural pathway just above and far to the left
of her.

There's nothing you can do, now. Don't look. Her mind repeated the mantra.
You had no other choice. Above all, Rau must not get to the Sword.

Riordan forced herself not to look down and see his body impaled upon the
spikes of crystal below. Her mind supplied the morbid details of Rau lying
broken upon the rocks with a shard of stark white crystal protruding from his
breast, his sapphire eyes closed forever, a thin line of blood trailing from his
full lips.

Damn you, Rau. It would be just like you to haunt me from beyond the
grave!

Intelligence insisted she clamber down and relieve Rau's corpse of the amber
stake that held together the folds of his cloak. But the Sword's song pulled at
her, urging her despite her reservations toward the opening in the mountain
above her. Rau's dead body could keep, she decided. Vultures would not be
interested in the amber.

The entire mountain seemed to hum with a single note. Vibration penetrated
her fingertips, resonating down the length of her arms and down her spine. Low
and urgently it called her.

Riordan moved slowly, painstakingly to her left. Safe handholds appeared at
irregular intervals, throwing constant roadblocks into her course. Moving up and
down, zig-zagging, she made her way to the opening.

The nearer she came to the entrance, the more it seemed to resemble a yawning
mouth. Pink crystal ringed the opening like lips, the inside deepened to magenta
and then again to darkness, like looking down a massive throat. Riordan had the
impression that if she stepped inside she might be swallowed whole.

Panting with exertion, she stood finally on the pink tongue of the entrance
and peered inside. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she began to notice the
shadows of crystal outcrops in the rough stone walls. Light seemed to radiate
from the rock itself, luring her into its depths.

Beneath her bare foot, the floor was warm, smooth as glass. Standing on its
surface, the vibration became one with her as if it radiated from her own
core.

With one hand against the rough stone wall to guide her, Riordan moved slowly
toward light and sound.

As in the dream, the tunnels led in a circuitous route toward the bowels of
the mountain. Indeed, it seemed as though she moved through the intestines of
some great beast, listening to the thrum of its digestion. Riordan thrust the
image from her mind.

Crystal reflected her fragmented image back at her as if she moved through
halls of pink-tinted mirrors. She kept moving, dragged forward by the Sword's
summons and her own destiny.

I do wish you were here with me, Nhaille. As always, the Captain would know
what to do.

But even if you were, when it came time to touch the Sword, I'd be on my own.
Riordan quickened her pace. I'm on my own from now on. That knowledge shot a
stark bolt of fear down her spine. Might as well get it over with.

The mountain sucked her deeper inside. She’d come too far down the twisting
tunnels to even know which direction the entrance lay in. Light intensified,
luring her further down the mountain's great gullet.

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