The Night Voice (33 page)

From the Spirit that she was.

Answer my need . . . my wish . . .
ay jâdh'airt.

The night lit up, even as Wayfarer continued looking down.

She flinched and stopped breathing but rapidly refocused so as not to lose what she had asked for. That light was so bright, she could see the cracks in the hardened earth—brighter than at any other time she had seen Wynn light the staff.

Relief almost made her look to the crystal, but she stopped herself. Relief almost kept her from thinking.

Only changed . . . exchanged.

Somewhere in the world, the light of the sun was diminished, for that came to the staff so long as she wished it
here.

L
eesil followed Ghassan down the passage into the mountain by the light of the sage's cold-lamp crystal. Ghassan gripped the crystal while carrying a single chest, so its illumination wobbled on the passage walls with every labored step. Leesil struggled to haul two chests strung on poles with Brot'an behind him. Chane and Ore-Locks bore the final two chests. Leesil began growing concerned as Ghassan continued glancing into the side tunnels.

Those other passages were obviously dug out long ago. Though the domin paused a few times, he never appeared lost or in doubt. He walked like someone recalling the right route without even thinking. Ghassan had claimed he'd explored places like this in his youth, but it was highly unlikely he had explored this one.

Leesil pulled up short, dropped his ends of the poles before Brot'an halted behind him, and grasped Ghassan's sleeve.

“What are you looking for?” he demanded.

Ghassan turned, the chest still in his hands. “Pardon?”

“You seem to be looking for something, but if you haven't been here before . . .”

A flicker of surprise on the domin's face was followed by something else, but Leesil couldn't tell what.

“Of course I have not,” Ghassan answered sharply. “I am seeking, even guessing at, the best downward path to wherever the Enemy might have sought refuge.”

Leesil had little option but to accept this explanation, though it still bothered him. Simply studying the mouth of a passage wouldn't reveal where it led. Glancing back, he assessed the others.

Chane had a crystal as well, though it was not glowing right now. Even as an undead, he looked almost as worn as the rest. Whatever Ore-Locks had done to pull down that last locatha had taken something out of him. And no matter what Brot'an said or didn't say, he was wounded. Leesil's side still ached, and the ache turned to outright pain when he crouched to lift the poles and chests again.

“Get on with it,” he said.

Ghassan did so as Leesil adjusted the poles' front ends. Then the domin stalled again, but this time stood staring ahead.

“What is it?” Leesil asked.

“A cavern,” Ghassan whispered, seemingly more to himself than in answer. He moved on. Not far ahead, his crystal's light exposed a broad widening of the path.

Four pale white men stood in the way, each with a sword sheathed on his hip.

Leesil knew a vampire when he saw one.

Having been so burdened and tired, he'd forgotten to pull out the amulet that would've glowed to warn him before now. He dropped the poles in the same instant as Brot'an and heard the same for Chane and Ore-Locks. The impact of multiple chests echoed along the tunnel.

Leesil gripped the handle of one winged blade and drew the weapon from its sheath.

“Wait!” Ghassan hissed under his breath.

The four blocking the way wore matching black clothing—simple pants and shirts. All of them had hair down to their shoulders not quite as black as their attire. None had drawn a weapon. The tallest one stepped forward. He looked first at Ghassan and then the chests. Puzzlement flooded his features.

“Where is Beloved's child?” he asked, almost as voicelessly as Chane.

Leesil tensed.

“Child?” Ghassan asked dryly.

Leesil already knew whom that meant: Beloved's child, Magiere.

The Ancient Enemy had plagued his wife's dreams, tried to lure her in, and now this. Chap had been right never to allow her into the mountain. The undead quartet seemed to have expected her. Worse, they didn't look one bit surprised by anyone else who'd come.

The tall one's gaze dropped again to the chests. “We will take the anchors. You will go and bring the child.”

As Leesil took two steps forward, Ghassan set down his chest and straightened.

“Really?” Ghassan answered barely above a whisper.

Doubt made Leesil glance toward the domin.

Ghassan blinked slowly, maybe lazily. Did his lips move in a soundless whisper? He then blinked rapidly and appeared to relax.

The tall vampire leader's features went slack, and his eyelids drooped. Neither he nor the others moved at all.

“Take their heads off in one strike,” Ghassan ordered. “Preferably at the same time, so as not to arouse the others as one drops.”

Leesil hesitated and looked back to Brot'an.

Brot'an only watched the four intently and did not move. Neither did Chane or Ore-Locks, though Chane wore an angry frown as if he did not care for how easily this had been done.

Neither did Leesil. Though he knew Ghassan was a skilled sorcerer, somehow what had been done exceeded anything he had seen the domin do before. It was unsettling, and he turned his suspicion on the domin.

Ghassan's eyes narrowed slightly. “Since when have any of you been squeamish at the thought of—”

He broke off, quickly glancing back to his targets.

The one on the rear left shook his head slightly.

The tall leader blinked. His face wrinkled in a silent snarl as he jerked his sword from its sheath.

Leesil saw no choice and rushed in, catching the undead's sword with his winged blade. The clang of steel pierced his ears—and head—as he shoved with all of his weight to drive back his opponent. He only managed one step, and then Chane was beside him.

Chane rammed the shorter of his two swords through the leader's rib cage and jerked it back out.

Ore-Locks thundered past at another undead closing in a rush.

Leesil knew any vampire would be stronger than he was, much harder to kill, and the longer this went on, the worse the odds would become.

“Get another one!” he shouted at Chane.

As Chane rushed on, Leesil gripped the back of his one drawn blade with his other hand. He thrust the blade's broad point into the leader's other side, levered as it sank in, and heard the muffled crack of ribs. Before his target overcame pain and shock, he shouldered the undead into a retreat, which freed his blade. He slashed the weapon toward his opponent's throat.

It tore through the side of the vampire's neck.

Black fluids splattered over Leesil's arm and onto his face.

• • •

Chane went for the next nearest target in the passage's wider section. Four undeads would think they had an advantage over the living. While those with Chane were worn or wounded or both, it was not this worry that set off the beast inside him. It shrieked in alarm, and his own sense of reason warned him about what was wrong.

These guardians had been expecting them . . . and Magiere.

As he closed, his new opponent snarled at him, exposing elongated teeth.

The vampire would not have seen him clearly in the dark tunnel, even with Ghassan's crystal glowing. And while he wore his “ring of nothing,” these four could not sense him for what he was.

Chane let his hunger rise and answered in kind, exposing his own teeth.

His opponent's eyes widened in hesitation, and Chane rushed inside its guard, striking with a fist first. Its head whipped rightward with the crack of impact. He followed with his blade.

Steel sank through shirt and flesh, grating along ribs, and shock rather than death stunned the vampire. Chane wrenched out the sword, blackened with its fluids, and struck, aiming for his opponent's neck. His blade had barely broken through the vertebrae when the vampire's head began to topple off.

Chane spun before the head hit the tunnel's floor. He looked quickly among his companions for who was in the worst position.

Ghassan had his back to the tunnel's left wall, and Leesil had already put down the first, tallest one. Another body could be seen beyond Brot'an, whose right hand and hooked knife were both coated in black fluids.

The last one lay in black-spattered parts at Ore-Locks's feet. Its upper half still squirmed, but this ended as Ore-Locks's double-wide sword clanged down through its neck.

For an instant, all of them stood looking from one body to the next. Only the sound of their labored breaths filled the silence. It had all been too easy, and this made Chane suspicious.

“Get the orbs,” Leesil finally commanded, sheathing his winged blade and glancing warily at Ghassan.

Chane also glanced at the domin, not knowing what to think.

Leesil said nothing more as he lifted the front ends of the poles for two chests.

Four vampires had expected their arrival, possibly that of the orbs, and of Magiere as well, as if addressing mere couriers or attendants. Did the Ancient Enemy know they would come?

Still, they could only go onward. Chane hurried to join Ore-Locks as
Brot'an grabbed the rear end of the poles behind Leesil. But Chane continued to study Ghassan as the domin lifted his chest and stepped into the lead. It was not long before they stopped again.

“Valhachkasej'â!”
Leesil hissed.

Chane stared ahead, at a loss. Though they had stepped into a great cavern, they could go no farther. They stood before the lip of a broad and wide chasm. All of them set down their chests again, and Chane reached the edge just after Leesil.

The chasm was so deep that Ghassan's light did not reach the bottom. The same was true for the heights above, as if this gash within the mountain rose upward as well. It did not go straight down for what they could see. Its sides were twisted and jagged, as if it had been torn open ages ago by something immense ripping wide the insides of the peak. As Chane looked to the far side, he barely made out the black outline of another wound in the mountain's stone.

There was no bridge to that other side.

He turned to Leesil. “Now what?”

• • •

Sau'ilahk ran into the battle—or what was left of it—to escape any pursuit or those arrows that had burned like acid upon penetrating his flesh. Along the way, bodies half charred or utterly blackened littered the plain. Soon, the sounds of the battle surrounded him.

Now there were more bodies scattered in red or black pools and stains, either whole or torn apart.

He slowed to a halt and looked behind him.

There was no sign of pursuit, on foot or horseback. Turning back to the battle, he second-guessed his choice to hide in this chaos or lure into it any who came after him. Then he heard the sounds of howling and cast about for its source.

Two forms on all fours raced along the battle's westward edge toward him.

He knew those were majay-hì. Whether they knew what he was or not,
they would when they neared. There was not enough time to conjure anything to defend himself, and he would need his reserves for something else.

He pulled his sword, though he had little skill with it, and fled farther into the battle. He went only far enough to be out of sight and then swerved eastward. Whatever might have been on the arrowheads that struck him still burned within the wounds in his shoulder and face. After centuries of lost beauty, damage to his appearance simply added salt to his wounds.

He wove through combatants tearing at one another, from goblins still much like those of his living days to at least one locatha set upon but unvanquished by three Shé'ith. One majay-hì in the fray spotted him; it was turned aside by a half-charred, half-naked vampire with manic, feral features. Among all of this were ghul tearing and biting at anything living, and other things he did not recognize.

Only twice did he have to strike awkwardly at something as he raced to the battle's eastward fringe. There he paused, looking both ways, caught amid indecision.

Sau'ilahk saw majay-hì ranging north and south along the fifty yards of open space to the edge of the craggy foothills. He did not know what was happening with Khalidah and Beloved, and everything here had gone wrong. In this chaos, Beloved would soon have little or no army, but while that remained, the battle was the only place he could hide.

Wynn and her companions had once again lost the element of surprise, but what if Khalidah failed in that as well? Grabbing the medallion around his neck, Sau'ilahk focused his thoughts.

Khalidah! Answer me!

Again, no reply.

Rage and frustration overwhelmed him. The dhampir—the “child”—had to be in here somewhere amid the slaughter. Why else would every other witless, undead tool of Beloved not flee for its own survival? It had to be she who had sparked this frenzy.

And if he could not strike directly at Beloved . . .

At the fringe of the carnage, Sau'ilahk began desperately conjuring another servitor—and another and another.

• • •

Leesil gazed across the chasm, at a loss. The presence of those last four vampires told him they were on the right track, but what did that matter?

“Now what?” Chane asked in his irritating rasp.

Panicked frustration overwhelmed Leesil. They couldn't give up.

Then he thought of what he'd seen Ore-Locks do. He looked left and right below the chasm's lip, but Ghassan's light didn't reach far enough.

The domin's expression flickered before he turned right and walked along the chasm's edge.

“There,” he said, pointing off level into the chasm's darkness.

Leesil hurried over, hearing Chane behind him. He couldn't see anything at first.

“There is a glint there,” Chane said, pointing.

Leesil saw it, perhaps caused by the crystal's light reflected off some ore vein. There was a wall in that beyond a stone's throw, so he hoped, but there was no ledge by which to reach it.

“I can attempt to float us across the chasm, one by one,” Ghassan suggested. “It will take time. And the more exertion, the greater the risk of losing someone, as well as an orb.”

Leesil peeked over the chasm's edge into the pitch-black below. Half turning, he found Ore-Locks right beside Chane, though Brot'an remained guarding the chests.

“I'm not some bat to go flitting about!” the dwarf growled, and then peered off into rightward darkness. “If there is a true wall back there, I can go through stone to the other side, but only Chane can go with me that way. As to the rest of us . . .”