The journey begins in earnest
NB: As before, this is a narrative based on my memory of events. Moreover, details have been added, omitted, rearranged and downright rewritten for the sake of a decent story. If you want to know what really happens, then move to D/FW and join the game! ~ FemmeLegion
Red fidgeted for a bit, then decided to go to bed early. She would need to be awake extra early to do last-minute inspection of all their traveling gear. A henchman’s work was never done.
Gorlon and Abbadon spent a while standing in the twin fireplaces in their room to get comfortable, then went to bed themselves.
“I still don’t understand,” Azis growled. “If she can’t leave the Vale, then who’s the threat? If it’s other Valites, then how the heck are they going to react to a Zinyini taking down a Valite? And why US in particular?”
“They know she can leave as a…projected spirit,” Seraph said with a shrug. “Princess Brandy as good as told me she fully expected Morgaine to do this, and we’re supposed to keep her safe and help her with it.”
“But why US?!”
Seraph sighed. “I think that is mostly my fault, brother. They know about my dreams and the woman in them. I think they wish to find her and do her harm, though I will certainly do what I can to prevent that.” He regarded Azis for a moment. “If it makes you feel any better, you weren’t made to take that vow to not harm the Valites. You were only asked to bear witness to me. Though my vow does state that I not only can’t harm Vale Royalty, I can’t allow harm to come to them, or else all our raiding brothers will be killed by Germain and that damnable mind rape of hers. Ah!” Seraph jerked his hand upward suddenly. A cut had appeared on the back of his hand, and was bleeding slowly.
Malak, who had been just quietly listening to the men talk, gasped in horror, and immediately rummaged for a kerchief to serve as a bandage. She grabbed Seraph’s hand and pressed the cloth to the wound herself, and it was several seconds before she would give back Seraph’s hand and let him tend the wound himself.
“I guess mind rape was too gentle a term,” Seraph muttered. “Right before this happened, I saw Morgaine in my head, and she had just been cut on the hand too. So whatever happens to them happens to me.”
Malak’s fists were clenched, and her face was taut. “I was sent to guard you, Habbibi. And if a dozen soldiers came through that door right now” – she swept with her hand – “with blades and pistols, I’d still have a hope of saving you. But this…” she let the remaining words fall unsaid. Seraph was equally silent. Eventually Malak spoke again.
“You mentioned dreams and a woman in them. Is this something you can trust to me? Einac did not simply send me to guard you – he wished to know more about the quest you are now on, and I will be telling him at my first chance, perhaps getting insight from him on the matter. It may be that if I can tell him of your dreams, he will also know something of use to you.”
Seraph shook his head. “I will not tell you here. I don’t know how strong their mind-reading power is, but I can only imagine it would be even stronger as close as they are right now.” He managed a smile at his grandmother. “But thank you for the offer, and please remind me to tell you of them later. For now, I’m off to go stand guard for Morgaine. I guess you’ll be coming along?”
To his surprise, Malak shook her head. “I’m of no use to you right now.” She could hear her faith shaking, rattling in her heart. “I hope to see you in the morning.” She shooed Seraph out of the room and walked out the window onto the balcony.
Azis had apparently slipped out here while she and Seraph had been talking. He stood on a small mat practicing a kata. Malak’s heart began to race. This clearly meant Azis revered T’Cidien, the Zinyini god of war, just like his grandfather had. Oh, this would work very nicely, if he was amenable…
“You are very strong,” she murmured as Azis reached the end of his martial meditation.
Azis shook his head. “My strength comes from my god.”
“And his from you,” Malak countered immediately. “T’Cidien is strong because you are strong in his name, and your faith is strong in your heart.” She reached out and stepped forward, trying to push him backward. “Let me show you.”
Azis reached out and pushed her to his arm’s length, which was significantly longer than hers. “This isn’t the temple,” he growled.
Malak simply looked at him, already half entranced. “It doesn’t need to be.”
She barely noticed Azis’s expression change a couple of times, but then he wrestled her to the ground as so many other men of T’Cidien had done so many times before. Malak breathed harder, opening her body and her heart to the sacred love that was hers to give and receive, letting it scatter her doubts like palm leaves before a simoom.
Red awoke shortly before dawn, as she had hoped. She leaned across the wall of pillows and awakened Robert with a tempest of passionate kisses.
“I’m off to double-check the gear before we leave,” she said as his bleary eyes finally focused on her. “Be careful around all those angry gods,” she said, referring to his own personal mission elsewhere.
“I’m always careful,” he murmured, half-slurring. “Come back when you’re done, before you leave. I don’t get up this early.”
Red stroked his hair. “I will.” Leaving him to his rest, she quickly pulled on clothes and boots, bothered one of the palace servants for the checklist of gear that had been gathered, and headed to Morgaine’s chamber. She pulled up short as she saw Seraph seated leaning against the door, his eyes bleary as if he had stayed up all night.
“Seraph, are you all right? Do you need something?”
“I got a light snack a few hours ago,” he said, shaking his head heavily. “I don’t get it…if the Princess is in so much danger, why weren’t there any other guards here?”
Red had already turned on her toes and begun striding toward one of the kitchens. “I’ll get you some coffee and some breakfast.” She returned in short order, carefully placing the warm mug into Seraph’s hands for him. “Now, I need to double-check our gear before we leave, but I’m just inside if you need anything.”
Seraph, abandoning all hope of an answer, sipped the hot liquid and nodded his thanks. Red opened the door, trying not to bump it into him, and stepped through. Traveling equipment of all sorts lay in piles around the anteroom. Red glanced at the checklist and looked over the piles, trying to figure out what of it was truly necessary. Valites often had a skewed definition of “need”, and she knew they wouldn’t be able to get pack animals to where they were headed.
“Good morning!” Morgaine was dressed in a sheer red nightgown. Her hair was still fairly neat; she clearly had not yet slept any. Which also was part of the plan. She was talking now, but Red really didn’t care. All she really cared about right now was whether it was really necessary to take that many cooking utensils, and why the heck were there only 500 meters of rope to be found?!
Gorlon awoke to a knock on the door. Turning to his side, he noticed that Abbadon had not even remotely reacted to the sound. Ah, that was why. The Azer was sleeping with his unscarred ear toward the pillow. Some guard he was going to be. Still, grumbling wouldn’t make the knocking stop. Gorlon slipped reluctantly from under the covers – the room was only almost warm enough – and opened the door.
A young Valite girl was standing on the other side. She held up a square of heavy paper. “An invitation to breakfast for Mr. Gorlon and Sir Abbadon.”
Gorlon quickly took the paper, promised the girl that the two of them would be there, and promptly dismissed her, closing the door before any more cold air could spill in. Only once the door was closed did he even bother to read the invitation:
Princess Chance and her husband Silas request the pleasure of the company of Mr. Gorlon and Sir Abbadon at breakfast, 9 am this morning in the Princess’s chambers.
He checked the large clock standing in the corner. They had about one hour to dress and make themselves presentable. Gorlon took a poker and nudged Abbadon with it. He knew better than to be within arm’s reach if he unwittingly startled his comrade.
Gorlon repeated the information on the paper as Abbadon sat up, then went to stoke the fire underneath the large marble bathtub in the adjacent room. The knight would likely just purify himself in one of the fireplaces, but Gorlon intended to indulge his Valite heritage with a good soak. He then changed into his best clothes, nodded to a similarly well-dressed Abbadon as he strode to the door, and nearly tripped over the young girl as he began to leave.
“I’m sorry,” the girl said as Gorlon regained his balance. “I’m supposed to show you to Princess Chance’s quarters.” Gorlon gave no answer but a wave of his hand, and the three of them headed to breakfast.
The girl opened the door for them, and Princess Chance and Silas nodded greetings as the two Azer stepped through.
“It’s an honor to meet you,” Abbadon said, addressing both of them, and Gorlon nodded his agreement. Silas was an Azer himself, and a great hero of the War of Heaven and Hell. Captured and tortured by demons, he remained unbroken, confessing nothing. Finally the demons cut out his tongue in a rage, and he later escaped back to the Vale and was able to relay information he had learned about the demons. Not even the Empress’s magic had been strong enough to restore his tongue, but he was highly regarded by both Azer and Valites alike for his courage and resolve.
“We are pleased to receive emissaries of my brother Lewis,” Princess Chance said, smiling. “And now, if you’ll excuse me, I intend to get comfortable.” She promptly shucked her leather jerkin and breeches, remaining clad in only a short chemise. It was then that both Gorlon and Abbadon noticed how comfortable they were in the room, and how hot that meant it must be for her. She seemed utterly unperturbed, though, and gestured for them to eat, serving herself from the piles of platters that crowded the table.
About midway through the meal, Silas looked at his wife, and she nodded. “Yes, I suppose it is time to talk business. Gifts first, I think.” The Princess reached beneath her chair and retrieved two boxes, passing one to each of them with a nod.
Abbadon’s box contained a heavy chain necklace threaded through a perforated disc of stone. The stone was carved with letters that he could barely understand, but recognized as being a very ancient form of the Azer’s language. He had seen similar letters on historic markers and other such sites in Kheldmirkhan. He turned the stone in his hand, his lips moving silently as he tried to translate.
“Silas says the stone isn’t from around here,” Princess Chance interrupted his thoughts. “And he believes it can do more than what we know it can do. But we know it has healing properties.”
“This is amazing,” Abbadon replied. He reverently slipped the chain over his head, feeling the stone rest against his chest hair.
Gorlon’s box contained a flask that was warm to the touch, even for him. He chuckled slightly as he opened it, and then his face contorted as he got a whiff of the shimmering silvery liquid inside it. It smelled like an amalgam of cinnamon and sulphur.
“There are probably about forty doses in there,” Princess Chance said, failing to hide her amusement at his facial expressions. “It’s really supposed to be more for things like poison or plague or the like, but it’s very potent stuff.”
“So you already know what Morgaine has planned, don’t you?” Abbadon had recovered himself and remembered his confusion. “These aren’t the sort of gifts you give regular bodyguards. You’re probably the only one in the entire Royal Family who doesn’t get tangled up in politics and bullshit – you speak plainly. Please do so now. What’s going on, and why are we needed?”
The Princess’s smile was as warm as the room. “Yes, we already know what Morgaine has planned. And that’s why you’re needed – to help her in that.” She cracked her knuckles absently. “Morgaine is confined here because of the treaty. And she is held in somewhat fearful regard by many of the people in the Vale, because of her demonic heritage. She chafes against both.”
Gorlon nodded. “Most people that age begin having the desire to go out and see the world.”
“It’s more than that,” Princess Chance said earnestly. “She wants to do good in the world. And she has no chance to do it here in the Vale. Even if we her aunts and uncles could afford her the opportunity to try, the people would not – they hold too tightly to their fear. That is why Brandy taught her how to project herself – so she could possibly do some good outside, where she is not known and feared.” She cracked her knuckles absently. “Perhaps she could have chosen a less ambitious task for her first time, but we wish to support her drive to be honorable despite her parentage.”
“And how does her…projection work?” Gorlon asked. Princess Chance waved dismissingly, and Gorlon was briefly offended until he realized she was actually gesturing to young Valite girls who had appeared to clear dishes.
“I think it’d be better if we show you. Come with me.”
Another knock on the door. Malak guessed that meant breakfast was over. Azis was practicing on the balcony again, but that was just as well. The three servants who had brought a table and trays for them had nearly knocked it all over in their haste to leave after they got a good look at him. She wondered if Seraph had gotten any breakfast, and decided to wrap up a few things in an untouched napkin for him before answering the door.
“Your Highness!” Malak said with a start. Princess Chance stood in the doorway.
“The others are waiting for you in Morgaine’s chambers,” the Princess said.
“Azis is still at his morning prayers.” Malak frightened herself a little with the intensity in her voice. Princess Chance seemed completely unruffled, though, and that did not change when Azis came into the room shortly after and glared at her.
“Please ready yourselves quickly, and I will lead you to Morgaine’s chambers.”
Malak hurriedly scooped up her burnoose with one arm and grabbed the napkin of food with the other. Azis had a few more things to don, but soon enough they were following the Princess’s quick strides through a veritable maze of carved stone hallways.
Seraph nodded greetings at them. Red was lacing up the last of six packs of gear. Gorlon and Abbadon looked at the closed door on the far side of the room as if expecting something. A few moments later, Morgaine appeared through that door without opening it, wearing a sheer red nightgown that Malak wasn’t sure she would have worn when she was alive.
“Ah, just in time,” Chance murmured. Malak turned to ask what she meant, but the Princess had already vanished.
“You…don’t…look…like a ghost,” Gorlon said, looking at Morgaine but pointing at Malak.
“It’s ‘cause I’m not,” Morgaine said. “It’d be easier if I was, honestly. I could just go through all the big rocks instead of needing someone to move them. But I can only move through so much solid matter, and I can only move about fifteen or twenty kilograms of anything.”
“So you can touch things?” Seraph lobbed his sheathed dagger at her. Morgaine squeaked as it passed through her, thumped against the door and landed on the ground.
“I have to be thinking about it!” She pouted, bent over, picked up the dagger and handed it back to Seraph.
“That reminds me,” Red said. “We can’t have you running around like that. You need to change.”
Morgaine’s features swirled briefly, and suddenly a duplicate of Azis stood where she had. “I told you,” the double growled, “it’s harder for me to stay asleep when I’m having to concentrate on holding another form!”
“And I told you to wear the caving gear to bed so you wouldn’t need to, but you didn’t listen. Now come on.” Red beckoned expectantly. The Azis-double snarled, then flickered again and became Morgaine in traveling clothes and a strange flat white helmet on her head.
“That’s better.” Red gestured to everyone, and then to the packs. “Let’s go.”
“Wait, where exactly are we going?” Abbadon asked.
“Right now?!” Azis was incredulous. “A god-damned secret mission and we’re leaving in the middle of the day?!”
Morgaine sighed. “It’s not a secret mission. I just don’t necessarily have permission to do it. As for where we’re going, we’ll be heading south out of the Vale to the Hidden Valley, and through there to the Stones of Swords. Just past that is a hill, and at the top of the hill is the cave where Florin went.”
“He took a baby all the way there?” Azis shook his head in disbelief.
“And what are these second packs?” Gorlon pointed.
“Those are parachutes,” Red said.
“Para-whats?” Malak arched an eyebrow.
“It’s how we can get into the cave quickly without getting hurt,” Morgaine said.
“You’ll see when we get there,” Red answered. “Now, come on. Let’s move.”
Few of them were happy as they walked through the City of the Vale. Abbadon was miserable under the shade and breeze. Malak was horrified at the number of fountains that so casually spilled precious water into the streets. Azis was astounded and disgusted at the opulence of the houses. Seraph had to endure his half-brother’s grousing, though he tried to lighten the mood with whispered plans of thievery on their return. And Morgaine couldn’t possibly have missed all the faces of Valites who dragged children away from their playtime as the party passed by, lest they get too close to the demon-girl.
She had other worries as well. “Seraph,” she said as they neared the southern gate, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”
“What do you mean?”
“The way Germain…linked us like that, with the hand, you know? She said she did it to make sure I’d be careful.”
“Well,” Seraph said, “she’s out to get me one way or another. Don’t worry. It’s not your fault. I’m not mad at you.”
“I’m still sorry.”
The trip through the narrow pass into the Hidden Valley went without incident, though all Zinyini eyes were on alert for the inevitable ambush. Beyond the valley, narrow spires of sharp stone jutted out of the ground like disorganized teeth.
“We’re almost there now!” Morgaine said, and began to run ahead. She was promptly overtaken by Azis.
“I don’t care what the hell you are or what you think you can do or they can’t do to you. You are not going first. Get back there with Seraph.”
Morgaine began to argue, but was completely outnumbered, and she settled sullenly into the middle of the group. “It’s just at the top of that hill.”
Cresting the hill, they were met with a yawning hole nearly 50 meters across. A group of Valite men stood nearby, twisting and knotting ropes. A stream ran up to the hole on the far side and just dropped straight in, making a low rumbling sound even at this distance.
“Archie!” Morgaine squealed, running to an old man who appeared to be leading the rope efforts.
“So much for secrecy.” Azis shook his head in disgust.
“It’s just Archie,” Morgaine insisted. “How are things going?” she addressed the old man.
“Well, we hope to have the ladders ready in about five days or so,” Archie said, nodding absently.
“The Empress is planning to take official action against Prince Florin,” Morgaine explained, “but a small group like us moves faster.”
Abbadon hawked and spat into the hole, peering in, but could not see the bottom. “How deep is this?”
“About 500 meters,” Red answered for Archie. “That’s why we have the parachutes. You put it on” – she demonstrated – “jump down the hole, count to five, then pull this cord here.” She indicated the ripcord. “The cloth spreads out and slows your fall.”
“No way in hell!” Azis sputtered. He gestured at the Valite men. “There’s gotta be enough rope to lower us down.”
“There is,” Archie said, still nodding, “but that’s dangerous, or unpleasant at the very least. Wind off the water…you’re likely to spin.”
Azis still seemed adamant. Malak turned to Red.
“Why don’t you demonstrate these para-whatsits?”
Red shrugged. “Okay.” She stepped up to the very edge of the chasm, and jumped. Everyone saw just a brief explosion of bright yellow before she disappeared completely into the blackness. About a minute later, a tiny light flared, and an even tinier figure waved at them.
“I guess I’m next,” Morgaine said. She stepped into the hole and vanished. More small lights were appearing now, forming a circle.
Malak looked at Seraph and smiled. “What’s the worst that can happen to me? I’m already dead.” Her high ringing laugh could barely be heard over the rush of the water as she jumped.
Morgaine emerged from the hole not long after. “Red and Malak are both safe at the bottom.”
“Good for them,” Azis said. “I’m still waiting on a rope.” He was sitting cross-legged on the ground with a reed flute in his hands and a heart-headed snake in front of him. He extended one arm to the ground, and the asp slithered and vanished up his sleeve.
Morgaine sighed, but did not argue. Eventually enough rope was knotted together to allow the others to be lowered down one by one. As Archie had predicted, they were spun rapidly as they descended, though blessedly this cave seemed almost spherical and none of them were blown around far enough to collide with a wall. As Azis landed on the pile of mossy pebbles beside the waterfall, he waved off offers of help from the women to untie him, worked his own way loose, then promptly crawled to the water’s edge and began vomiting.
The two dwarves made it down with serious discomfort but no incapacitation. Seraph had the worst of it. He ended up seriously tangled in the rope and made most of the journey upside-down, which meant he struck his head against the rocks when he landed. As Malak and Abbadon ran to cut him loose, their attention was diverted by a yelp from Azis.
A giant pink lizard with red neck frills had started gumming on Azis’s legs. Gorlon and Red immediately ran toward it, ready to strike. Malak wished they hadn’t. There was no way to get into a good position and still do something. Still, she could at least spare the Azer.
A high-pitched rushing sound filled the cave, and the echoing cry of birds. A tremendous blast of wind streamed from Malak toward the lizard. Red was blown toward it, but miraculously had the reflexes to jump and land on its back.
The lizard shook its head, let go of Azis, and began retreating into the water. Red jumped off, keeping her footing despite the mossy rocks, then pointed. “Look out!”
Three more lizards had crawled up from the other direction, and were uncomfortably close to Morgaine, who was still fretting over Seraph. Red yelled and threw her lantern toward the one in the middle, hoping the sudden flash would startle them away. They didn’t even blink. Eventually the party would realize this was because they had no eyes.
Azis had regained his feet, and he charged, leaping to punch one of the lizards in the face. His fist connected, but appeared to bounce off without ill effect to either of them.
Abbadon finished using his new healing stone on Seraph, and once he ascertained that there wasn’t any more blood oozing out the back of the Zinyini’s head, Abbadon unslung his axe and ran at one. He cleaved it in half. Malak noticed that the dozens of smaller lizards who had come up out of the water now began swarming toward it. They eat their dead, she thought. Seeing that Seraph was also on his feet and making ready to fight, she decided she would be more useful watching for any more giant lizards attempting to join the fun. She cringed as Red threw a dagger into the neck frill of the one facing Seraph – that had been just a little too close! – but to hear Red talk, the bigger danger was that the thing had almost retreated and taken the dagger with it except Seraph had come up in time to dispatch it. Azis landed a more telling shot on the one nearest him, and after a while the lizards left them in some semblance of peace.
“So…” Gorlon said. “We probably shouldn’t stay here.”
“Where do we go from here?” Azis asked Morgaine.
“The water goes down another drop,” Morgaine said. “When I was exploring in here last, I went that way.” She pointed to a narrow tunnel. “It leads into a room that looks like it’s full of stars. When I went in there, I really thought I was outside.”
“I vote we camp in the tunnel, if we all fit,” Abbadon said. “It’s more easily defended than a big room.”
“We’re going to stop here?” Morgaine whined.
“We’ve been walking for ten hours, and awake for fifteen,” Gorlon said.
“Thirty-eight,” Seraph said, raising his hand.
“I don’t sleep,” Malak gently pointed out.
“Oh, that’s useful,” Gorlon said. “But in any case, yes. We are camping here and moving on once we’ve gotten some rest. Douse this fire and let’s go.”
Red tilted her head at Gorlon. “You could just carry the fire with you.”
“Well, unless you need Abbadon to do it because you can’t touch it directly yourself.” Malak didn’t mean to offend with her words – simply acknowledge his half-bloodedness – but she got a glare from Gorlon as he bent to scoop up coals.
The tunnel was very narrow. They would need to camp head-to-toe along its length. But this they did. Gorlon set the fire down, Red began feeding it some more, and Abbadon quickly claimed a sleeping spot directly next to it. He would have stood entirely in it if Red hadn’t so quickly set up a tripod and cauldron to make dinner.
“We should set watches,” Abbadon said.
“Not it!” Seraph had already lain out blankets and folded his caftan under his head.
“At least eat something if you can’t wait for dinner,” Malak said, fishing out the napkin of leftover breakfast and handing it to him. He obligingly polished off the contents before dropping off to sleep.
“I’ll take first watch,” Azis said. “And so will these two.” He held out his arms, and a pair of asps peered out from under his sleeves. He bent to the ground, mumbling something, and the two snakes slithered off into the starry cave beyond. He stood, and for a brief moment it appeared his eyes had become those of a serpent.
“I will too,” said Abbadon. “It’ll be hours before I’m warm enough to sleep.”
“Fair enough,” said Gorlon, unrolling his bedding. “Wake me when you need to.”
Red turned to Morgaine. “You really shouldn’t sleep much longer than this at a stretch anyway. Go wake up, take care of your bodily needs, do whatever, and come back in a few hours. Okay?”
Morgaine pouted, but faded from sight.
Red then addressed Malak. “I planned for you, obviously, but I didn’t have the chance to ask: do you need to eat?”
“Yes,” Malak said. “And thanks for asking.” Red responded by thrusting a bowl of something at her and immediately working to dish up others.
Azis sat cross-legged, Abbadon behind him. The Azer would watch for nearby danger. He was going to see what his snakes saw.
His senses were limited to theirs now, and he kept getting the uncomfortable feeling of there occasionally being something sticky on his back. Then the snakes stopped trying to climb up the cave walls, staying closer to the floor, and the stickiness went away, though occasionally there was a gigantic cockroach with which to contend. Azis nudged them to travel to the far end, and his eyes through theirs beheld a shorter tunnel leading to a large mountain that glowed. One of the asps passed another snake, but neither of them seemed concerned at the other’s presence.
Then the snakes’ tongues began flicking rapidly. They were excited. Something was coming! Azis barely heard voices from over his shoulder…
“Seraph,” the girl’s voice floated from behind her golden mask, “I have been unable to see as I have before. What is going on?”
“I’ve been taken by the Vale Royal Family. They made me promise not to harm them, and to go on the journey I’m on right now. I think they are after you. But I am doing what I can to protect you from them. As good as you and your visions have been to me for the last five years, I would rather be without them than let you fall into their hands.”
Seraph could not see the oracle smile, but her delicate body shifted under her diaphanous robes, and she reached out a hand to him. “My dear Seraph.” Her hand was scarcely an inch from his face when suddenly it jerked back, pointing over his shoulder. He could not tell if the voice was coming from inside his dream or outside…
Malak stood at the end of the tunnel, facing the waterfall. She had borrowed Azis’s cloak, not to keep herself warm but to block some of the glowing from her body lest the others find it harder to sleep. It puddled on the ground behind her.
The rumbling of the water as it hit the rocks in front of her, and apparently as it fell yet further and crashed again, filled her ears. Still, she craned her neck when a new, more rustling sound came to them over the din.
She had been able to see glimpses of the sky from where she stood, but suddenly that view was obliterated. A huge black cloud was descending and heading toward where her comrades lay. Her shining self gave just enough light for her to recognize the danger as she turned, lunging for her grandson and crying out…
... “LOOK OUT! BATS!”
Seraph awoke in just enough time to feel Malak land on top of him, rolling to press him against the wall. He would never have guessed Spirit Warriors needed to breathe, but her breath was warm in his ear.
“Isn’t there a taboo about this, grandmother?”
“Ssh!” Malak flung one arm around Seraph to keep him still and held Azis’s cloak closed around her throat with her other hand. She hadn’t had time to check and make sure everyone else was covered under either a cloak or a blanket, but she also didn’t have time to worry.
The tunnel FILLED with bats. Thousands upon thousands of them poured through, and time seemed to slow to a crawl as all anybody could do was lie still and wait for them to pass. And stop crawling in their hair.
“Is everyone all right?” Red asked after it seemed all of them had finally filtered through. She thought she heard that the bats’ staccato chirping had turned to screams. That didn’t bode well at all.
Abbadon grunted, and Gorlon made a face as he worked a bat free from his blanket. “Aside from that being absolutely disgusting? Fine.”
“Maybe a bruise or two,” Malak said, rolling over, “but better me than him.” She tilted her head to Seraph, who had already started to doze again.
Azis frowned, concentrating. Yes, both of his asps were fine. In fact, they were both tremendously happy with full bellies since the bats had flown through the star cave. But wait…something else was coming back through the other way…
”...birds?” Azis said, incredulous. The others looked at him, then heard the flapping and chirps and dove for cover again.
Blessedly, once the birds had left the cave, there were no further incidents during the evening. Morgaine reappeared to find them all bruised and groaning – despite Malak’s best efforts, Seraph had not emerged unscathed. Morgaine suggested that all of them sleep, with no further regards to promises of standing guard, and she and Malak kept vigil until the others were ready to move again. Red passed out fruit and biscuits as people repacked their bedding and got dressed.
Because the tunnel was so narrow, Azis was the first one to set foot in the star cave. The ceiling really was dotted with tiny glowing bluish lights. By lantern- and Malak-light, everyone could also make out hundreds of thin strands danging from the ceiling to fewer than two meters from the floor. Liquid gleamed along them like strung silver beads.
“Hmph,” Azis said, taking a step forward. His head brushed against one of the strands, and Seraph cried out as he noticed the top of Azis’s turban start to come off, remaining stuck to the strand.
Azis stepped back, took off the turban, unwound it enough to get a good grip on one end of the cloth, and gave a sudden merciless yank. With a SPLUTCH sound, the sticky strand went limp and a translucent white sac landed on the ground, obviously attached to the strand. One end glowed a bright bluish-white, and the sac seemed to be filled with pulsing red blobs. Seraph muttered something likening it to camel guts.
“The strands are sticky?” Malak mused. She gently nudged her way to just behind Azis’s massive shoulder, ducked around him as best she could, and whispered a prayer. Another burst of sea-wind sprang from her hands, shoving all the strands toward the far side of the cave. Three seconds later, Malak squawked in disappointment as she watched them all float gently back down into place.
“So they’ll stick to us, but not to each other? Unfair!” she whined.
Azis whirled on Morgaine. “And you are ABSOLUTELY SURE that Prince Florin would have brought a child in here?!”
Morgaine said nothing, but walked unfazed by the strands to about the middle of the cave. She pointed to what appeared to be a puddle on the ground, with a clear imprint of a boot in the middle.
“I’m sure.”
“Well,” Abbadon said, “not to boast, but I don’t think they’ll be bothering me any.” He held his hand level above his head to indicate his relative height to theirs. He pushed to the front of the group, slung his axe low across his back and strode stooped across the cave, glancing upward cautiously once in a while. He had to leap forward once, as a large glob of liquid fell from the ceiling to where he had just stood. It landed with much the same sound as the strand-sac had, and in fact a strand was attached to it, leading all the way back up to a very large sac near the middle of the ceiling.
“So they can catch ground-traveling critters,” Red mused. “So much for just crawling.”
A few seconds later, Abbadon was out of sight around a bend in the cave. Morgaine beckoned to the rest of them, and Gorlon shrugged and made his way through. He inadvertently revealed the location of a second spitting sac, but otherwise made it without incident.
“You next, Azis,” Malak said. “I can buy you some time.”
“I don’t need your help,” Azis said with a sneer. “I don’t need to be babied every step of the way here.”
“You’re getting it anyway,” Malak replied calmly, and the sea-wind rose at Azis’s back. He spat an obscenity at her and ran across, his long legs meaning he had no trouble dodging another falling glob of “spit”.
Malak rolled her eyes and smiled at Seraph. “Why yes, in fact, that was a very important part of my calling in life. Your turn, habbibi.”
“Are you -” Seraph started to protest, but was cut short by a look. “Fine.” He dutifully waited until Malak had called another blast of wind, which meant he had to crouch quite a bit at the end as the strands drifted back down, but otherwise he was fine.
Malak gestured to Red, who shook her head. “No, no, the henchman always goes last. It’s your turn, sweetie.”
Malak sighed, just now beginning to feel the toll her prayers had taken on her. Grateful Azis had taken back his cloak so it wouldn’t drag her down, she blew the strands away one last time and ran as fast as she could. She did not wish to look up lest she trip over something heretofore unseen, so she was completely taken by surprise when the glob of shimmery sticky fluid dropped on her head.
The men stood staring at the mountain before them. It seemed to rise nearly a hundred meters of the ground, and it was carpeted with cockroaches. Azis’s asps came slithering directly up to him as soon as he arrived, curling their way up his legs and up to his shoulders.
“They don’t like this much,” Azis said.
Abbadon was waving his hand in front of his face. “Is that mountain made of shit?”
“Mflgh!” a noise came from behind them.
“Oh,” Gorlon said, feeling strangely detached due to the fumes. “The things got Malak.”
Azis and Seraph looked at each other uncertainly. Abbadon sighed, shaking his head at the Zinyini, and charged, leaping at the strand which had begun lifting Malak off the ground.
Malak fell to the ground and rolled toward where she had wanted to go in the first place. Abbadon, on the other hand, remained dangling. His axe had severed the one strand, at the cost of adhering to several others. And he wasn’t about to leave the weapon behind.
This spurred Seraph to action. If the things had eaten Malak, she would have come back the next day. Not so with Abbadon. Seraph loosed his scimitar and chopped…and made the very same mistake as the Azer. To make matters worse, he had not fully cut down the dwarf.
Azis swore again and ducked, wading in after his brother.
Malak got clear of the strands and looked fretfully toward the men as they struggled. Then she realized the cursing she heard was coming from behind her. She turned, to find that Gorlon’s arm had been solidly entwined in a black-and-white snake that was slowly squeezing. She had no idea what to do. A blast of wind wasn’t going to free Gorlon, and it wouldn’t help the other boys cut each other down. She wished she had a knife.
Suddenly the snake went slack around Gorlon’s arm, and Malak was suddenly aware of Morgaine’s form clinging to the side of the cave. She had nearly gutted the snake with a dagger.
Eventually the boys returned, victorious at the cost of Azis’s cloak, and Red shouted from the other side that she was on her way. She seemed to have no troubles whatsoever. It was almost as if she was beneath their notice.
Malak sank to the ground, panting, and began to pray.
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