SWNOVELS Fireblade: Chapter 14
I MAKE A FINAL CHECK on the area emerging out of the rubble that will soon mark the boundary for this fight.
The dimly-lit section of tunnel is the best I could have hoped for and even if it turns out to be the only piece of luck we get on this operation, it helps dispel some of my sense of foreboding. There is space to move around but it is narrow enough to prevent more than three guards from attacking us at once.
“Kashia, get your people behind me and stay well out of the way.” I watch her start to move––and almost immediately my plans fall apart.
I had expected the patrol to hold back until the gap was wide enough for them to come at us in a concerted rush, but in his eagerness to gain control of the tunnels, the guard captain is ordering his grunts to crawl through the narrow opening one at a time, even though it is still too small to allow easy access. I notice that I can understand every word of the barked orders in Rapathian, which helps me to hastily change my plans on how to keep our attack silent.
I catch Shadow’s eye and tip my head back in the direction we just came from. A curt nod of agreement and we retreat around the last corner, just as dimly flickering torchlight announces the first guard’s slow passage through the opening.
Kashia hisses in my ear. “Ariel, what are you doing? I thought you were going to fight them?”
“You said yourself we have to avoid giving any warning of our presence. They seem to be advancing in more of a hurry than I expected. If they’re going to come at us one at a time the best chance of dealing with them quietly is back here––”
I break off to grab the first guard to come round the corner, get a hand over his mouth and a dagger in his throat.
Kashia helps me lower the limp body to the ground and signals her people to move the corpse out of the way.
I take out three more as they advance around the corner before the next grunt notices an inert guardsman on the ground and yells a warning. Then it starts. More Rapathians shoving their way through the enlarged opening. I employ the same ruse that defeated Akadian, reining in my fighting ability and limping as I retreat slowly, encouraging them to pursue a vulnerable target, drawing them further into the tunnel.
Shadow uses the distraction to move forward, flattening his lean dark form against the wall, easing silently and invisibly past the approaching soldiers, hidden in the uncertain shadows thrown by the dim torchlight. My night-vision loses sight of him in the deep darkness he can weave so easily around himself. No wonder the Eldrin have never been able to capture or kill him.
I give up on stealth and move in to attack, searching for the first sign that Shadow has made it through to the rear of the patrol. A sharp scream from the far end tells me what I need to know. He has cut off their retreat and started fighting his way back to me. I can barely make out his movements through the press of bodies and flickering red light, but for the first time I am fully aware of his every move and can reciprocate as easily as if he were an extension of my own energy. Which I suppose in a way I am.
If only I could have found this perfect symmetry with the Eldrin…
As the thought of Marin and the Eldrin strays my focus away from this deadly game, I almost misstep. Time to concentrate. The number of opponents diminishes and I can sense how Shadow is creating space at the entrance to the breakthrough for me to move closer to him. Finally the two of us are there together, fighting back to back in a choreographed dance of deadly strikes and slashes, blocking the patrol’s retreat through the rockfall into the dungeons.
At last it’s over. I pause to catch my breath as Kashia approaches, stepping over the pile of bodies. She looks shocked.
“I have never seen anything like that. Not in the most advanced training sessions with the Eldrin. As if there were no longer two of you but only one, fighting in two places at once.”
The edge in her voice shows that she really wants to ask where this deadly power will lead and what will come of it, but she holds back from putting it into words. I can tell that her real question is, how long will a creature like me be allowed to live once this war is over? When my attention moves away from an external enemy to focus on any rivals closer to home?
I avoid trying to make any answer.
“Kashia, do you still have enough fire-powder to bring the roof down and block the tunnel again?”
“Yes. But how will you get out after you have completed your mission, if this way is blocked?”
“We’ll find our own way. Meanwhile, protect the rest of your underground routes for as long as you can.”
“Thank you.” She grips my arm in farewell with a look in her eyes that says she doesn’t really expect me to make it back out of here.
I scramble through the rough breach in the rubble and follow the recently excavated tunnel that leads to the dungeons. The dim phosphorescence of Kashia’s firefly stick casts the rough walls a ghostly green, but the light is enough for my enhanced night vision. The stone door I discovered on my previous mission had been wedged open for the Rapathian patrol, but the deep dungeon where we found the imprisoned generals seems deserted.
No prisoners. No guards. A few smoky torches burning in sconces on the walls.
Something doesn’t feel right, but I can’t work out what it is.
There appears to be only one exit, a narrow flight of damp stone steps leading up to a steel grill.
I have one foot on the first step when I hear a noise.
It sounds more animal than human, a kind of low moan or growl. If a single sound could convey utter despair, then this would be it. Instinctively, I grip both blades more firmly as I turn back and look around.
If that is a prisoner, there will be a jailer somewhere nearby.
A sharp hiss of impatience comes from above me on the steps but I shake my head.
“It’s worth a short detour to make sure no one raises the alarm too soon.”
I retrace my route past the last corner and turn down a narrow side passage. There is only one cell at the far end. I approach cautiously, still wondering where the jailer might be until I hear the sound of a fight break out behind me. I leave Shadow to finish that task and hurry forward to peer between the heavy rusting bars of the cell.
Harsh memories draw me forward, searing images of the terrible state our rescued generals were in when we found them, while the warning voice in my head keeps insisting that trying to rescue a prisoner will seriously compromise the mission––
An emaciated body flings itself against the bars with a sickening crunch and a howl of fury. I jump back in shock, wrenching my hand from its claw-like grasp. I stand frozen in horror as the monster snarls and thrusts scarred skeletal arms through the bars, trying desperately to grab at me again. But it is not the sight of gaunt limbs and matted hair, blackened teeth and red-rimmed eyes that strikes fear in my heart.
That brief touch was enough to drag a sliver of life-force out of me even more savagely than my own predatory power-grab at the lion hunt a few weeks ago. If I had not snatched my hand away, instinct tells me this starved power-predator would have killed me.
A brief connection like this once gave me a glimpse of the Blade’s true nature. In the same way, the passing contact with this ruined creature has brought an insight, a flash of images and feelings that tell me where this prisoner came from.
Who he once was.
A powerful warrior, a volunteer eager to please his Emperor, unaware that what awaited him would be imprisonment and ruin. For the first time I notice the low table set outside the bars, in easy reach of those emaciated clawing hands. A platter of bread and cheese, smoked meat and a couple of apples is set there. Still untouched.
How can he be starving within reach of plenty?
A low hiss at my shoulder and the heavy clank of stolen keys tells me that Shadow has concluded his fight with the jailer.
“Ariel. You already know what you are seeing here.”
Maybe I do, but I can’t bring myself to acknowledge it. There is something too disturbing about the discovery that this ravaged and starving creature has lost interest in food. All he wants or needs is the kind of nourishment that can be derived from me––or from Maratic. I turn to face Shadow as he cleans and sheathes his dagger, his eyes fixed on the prisoner. A desperate greed I have not seen before is breaking through his cold arrogance like a consuming flood.
Uneasy, I step between them. “We need to leave.”
He turns briefly to me. “Do you not know who this is? I already told you Nagal had prepared his own adept before binding himself to the Emperor. This is his key to drawing the power from Maratic and creating his great army of adepts, ready to conquer the rest of the known world. You must take this power, now. Let us both use it for our mission and at the same time destroy the Emperor’s key to Maratic.”
For a few moments I struggle with the confusion his words thrust into my mind. On the face of it, this makes sense. But the very thought of it is repulsive––and so is the Blade’s evident regret that the binding between us means he can no longer steal the life of a helpless prisoner. Another revelation about him that fills me with misgiving. He is waiting for me to do it for him.
“Shadow, think about it. There is no way either of us need this kind of corrupted power inside us. I have no idea how difficult it would be to control but I’m sure it would be horrible and I have no desire to experiment.”
He steps back in surprise, his cold anger back in place.
“Look at him. Death would be a mercy.”
“I am looking. Is this what will ultimately happen to Marin and Deris, or me, unless we are hunted down and killed before it gets to this stage? Is this what you have spent centuries inflicting on unwary humans?”
He hesitates. Seems like he has never considered this possibility before. The Eldrin patrols have been too efficient at ending his proudly created ‘masterpieces’ while they were still in their prime. With any luck this encounter might undermine his pride that he had created such flawed and doomed creatures.
I take advantage of the temporary reprieve from Shadow’s demands and turn to the prisoner, relieved that I can address him in his native language.
“What do you want?”
“Maratic!”
That was already obvious. I rephrase the question.
“Not going to happen. You will never leave this cell. I’m sorry. If you are to remain here permanently, what do you want?”
A long silence.
Then, “Death. In the name of Nagal.”
For a brief instant I catch a glimpse, a faint memory of the loyal warrior he once was. Deceived, betrayed, and yet still locked into the deeply conditioned worship of his own betrayer.
How is that kind of dominance achieved, inflicted on the mind of someone who could have been a war hero?
A wave of anger and sorrow runs through me, even though this ruin of a man is and will always be my mortal enemy. I force myself to think back to the bloodstained forest clearing outside Corinium and Marin laying a heavy sword in the hand of a dying boy soldier. I turn to Shadow.
“Bring me the jailer’s weapon.”
“What are you…”
“Just bring it.”
Maybe he still holds out a hope that I will comply with his demands because he disappears around the corner and returns holding a broad bladed short sword. It is an ugly weapon but at least it is forged from Rapathian steel. I turn it in my hands and offer the hilt to the prisoner, ignoring the fierce hiss of protest behind me.
“Ariel! Are you insane?”
I ignore him, my whole focus on the Rapathian who is staring at me though bloodshot eyes, trying to work out if this is his chance of escape or yet another cruel trick. Then he grabs the weapon and makes a vicious stab at my heart.
I expected the move but not the unleashed power and speed of it. My twist to the side is fast but not quite fast enough. His blade hacks through the mailshirt, tearing a gash along my side. I manage to keep my focus on his face as his eyes glaze over and his jaw goes slack. He barely has time to whisper the name of Nagal before his emaciated carcass slumps to the floor, pulling his neck away from my embedded dagger.
“That was stupid. You are bleeding.” Shadow presses his hand against the wound and the sharp ice of his healing seals the cut. It still hurts like a thousand hornet stings as I turn away from the cell and its deceased occupant, but I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of hearing me complain.
“Like I said, we need to leave.”
I walk ahead of him, avoiding the bloody corpse of the jailer and heading for the steps to the upper levels of the castle.