Calling On Fire (Book 1) (20 page)

Read Calling On Fire (Book 1) Online

Authors: Stephanie Beavers

Tags: #fantasy

"This is the edge of the safe zone," the teal warrior volunteered. "We keep sentries at the entrances to all far-reaching tunnels, especially the ones connecting to other cave systems. If anything goes wrong further down, they can relay the alert to the city and act as a final barrier, if necessary. There are other sentries further ahead yet, so it should still be safe, but we must remain alert. We haven’t lost any non-combatants since we withdrew into the center of the city and set up the sentry system."

"How do your sentries sound an alarm?" Esset asked. He hadn't seen any carrying alert horns or anything like that.

"Cries carry far down these tunnels," Tseka replied in Nassata's stead. "And if the sentries are overrun, the screams carry even further."

Esset felt a chill.

"Do you know what happens when a Reshkin bites a Nadra?" Tseka asked. Esset felt disinclined to meet her blood-red eyes, but he did so for a moment anyways.

"Reshkin venom is lethal." Esset remembered that much.

"It is more than lethal," Tseka replied. Esset realized it was getting dimmer in the tunnel, but Tseka had caught his eyes again, and this time he couldn't look away.

"If a Nadra is bit," Tseka continued. "We don't simply die. Even if the wound is superficial, we will soon writhe in agony. In fact, small bites are worse than large ones, for it takes the venom longer to kill. If a Nadra is bit, you will learn how these tunnels and caves carry sound." The red Nadra broke eye contact and looked forward. "That is why most of us have agreed to a pact. If I am bit, the others will kill me before I go mad with the pain. They will end my suffering, as I would do for any of them."

Her pact ran counter to his beliefs, but Esset kept his mouth shut and let silence fall. The tunnel was almost black now, and there was no sign of light ahead. The wall sconces no longer cast illumination in the tunnels.

Esset had a feeling it wasn’t going to take him long to start missing the sky. The dark didn’t bother him much, nor did the close rock walls around him. No, it was a combination of both those things, the soft sounds of scales on stones, and the knowledge that those disturbing, deadly Reshkin were out there. At least the ground was so perfectly smooth that he knew he wouldn’t trip, and the swish of scales on stone let him know that he hadn’t fallen behind.

"Should I have brought a lantern?" Esset asked, his voice low.

"What's the matter, can't see in the dark?" Tseka's hissing laughter came from behind him now.

"I realize you can't see as well as we can," Nassata said, ignoring the other warrior. "But you'll have to rely on us to navigate. We are almost to the sentry—ah, yes, there he is. Greetings, Warrior."

"Greetings, Warrior. And good luck," the sentry replied. Esset couldn't see him, but he roughly located his direction by his voice.

"Thank you," Nassata replied. "Now, Esset, I am at your side, as is another warrior, with the others behind. Before you is clear if you need to summon something."

"Good," was all Esset could think to say. He found himself wishing Tseka hadn't come along. He was sure she must be a skilled warrior for Nassasta to have chosen her, but he wondered if he'd be as unnerved right now if she hadn't just painted such a vivid picture of an excruciating death. Then again, these tunnels did remind him of that job they'd taken on early in their career where they’d eradicated an infestation of giant scorpions, so maybe he only had his own, overly productive imagination to thank.

Suddenly a very solid arm jarred him to a stop and back to reality, and he realized he’d fallen prey to his very bad habit of woolgathering in the field again. He mentally kicked himself as he rebooted his senses to gather every bit of information from around him that he could without using his eyes—it was still pitch black. He couldn’t gather much, unfortunately. More fortunately, the Nadra were willing to help.

"Thirty of your paces ahead is the armory we lost. There are a great many Reshkin inside," a warrior whispered in his ear. Esset barely managed to keep from jumping—the Nadra were extremely quiet and he hadn’t realized how close the nearest was—his mouth had been almost right next to his ear. The summoner nodded, realized it was dark, and almost replied verbally before remembering that the Nadra could "see" him anyways. He briefly wondered how the Nadra would normally proceed with an attack from here, but he saved the question for later. Instead he concentrated very specifically on the incantation that would summon him a battle cat.

The creature exploded into existence before them with the thick smell of charcoal and ash. Esset wondered what it looked like to Nadran heat-vision. Esset knew that the core temperature of his summons was incredibly high. A wolf could superheat any metal placed between its jaws until it was as malleable as dough. A panther could melt metal in its jaws. Right now the panther would be blazing like a small sun to the heat sensors of the Nadra.

The ferocious fire-cat whipped down the tunnel and into the armory, tearing into the Reshkin ahead. It was an unstoppable force of unspeakable rage and tangible menace. Since its jaws could melt metal, Reshkin exoskeletons would be no match for its ferocity.

Esset had barely released the first to attack before summoning the second and sending it down the tunnel as well. The two of them ripped into the Reshkin swarm and the stench of their opponents’ burning bodies flooded the tunnel. Some of the Nadra even covered their noses against the smell, and it would have bothered Esset to realize how little the smell had come to bother him. He barely noticed the smell at all; he was so used to summoning and fighting with the fiery creatures he called upon.

In the darkness, Esset was forced to rely on his ears, and they conveyed a horror-story to him. Only the bestial, vicious nature of the Reshkin could allow him to withstand those sounds. He never could have been responsible for the similar decimation of a sentient species—or a gentler one. For all that their clacks, chatters, clicks, screeches, and hisses were totally inhuman, it wasn’t difficult to discern between those that were enraged, those that were terrified, and those that were screaming in agony. There was no mistaking the cries that were cut short as lives, no matter how monstrous, were ended. And those weren’t the only sounds. They could clearly hear the crack of exoskeletons, the snap of flames, and the squelches as the innards of the Reshkin were spread across the floor by scorching paws and serrated claws alike. Esset had learned a long time ago that there was no glory in battle, only horror. In darkness, the sight of the horror was spared, but it seemed to only amplify the monstrosity of the sounds. It was sometimes too little comfort to know the necessity of such battles.

"Summoner Esset." Once again, Esset almost jumped at the voice that was a hairs-breadth from his ear.

"Yes?" he hissed back.

"Can you bring back the carcass of one of the Reshkin?"

Esset gave the Nadra a curious look. Not that he could see him, not really. And it was entirely possible that they couldn’t read expressions in the dark any better than he could, even with heat-vision.

"I would imagine, yes," he replied. "Why?"

"We have been unable to. And if we could study the venom, perhaps we could procure an antidote," the Nadra replied. Then it occurred to Esset—yes, the Nadra’s words made sense. He remembered how the Reshkin had swarmed in and carried away the carcasses of their fallen, and how aggressive they’d been about it. Gaining a sample of the venom would be invaluable.

"If I bring back the whole body, the Reshkin might try to recover it," Esset thought aloud. "But odds are, the venom sacs are in the head, likely near the fangs. If my summon only brings that back…" He trailed off as he formulated a plan.

Up ahead, one of the panthers left this plane with a small puff of smoke and flame. Silently, Esset summoned two wolves to take its place, sending both dashing down the tunnel towards the battle. They tag-teamed, one driving live Reshkin away from a carcass, the other tearing the head off the dead Reshkin and returning to them with it. The head made a sickening sound when dropped on the tunnel floor, and the odor arising from it was foul. Esset banished the wolves then and sent another panther down the tunnel again.

The summoner sensed more than saw or heard the Nadra next to him pick up the head and pass it to another warrior at the rear of the party. That warrior raced back to the city with the prize. Esset hoped they’d be able to devise a cure—or even a vaccination—from the venom sample. Fortunately, the Reshkin didn’t seem to have noticed that they’d lost part of a carcass. That had been Esset’s hope in leaving the rest of the carcass behind—they seemed to be almost obsessive about collecting their dead, so he’d wanted to leave something behind for them to collect. That, and it was easier for a wolf to carry off a head, and not the entire carcass of something nearly as big as it was.

"I’m banishing my summons—I want to see if they’ll retreat," Esset whispered to his Nadran guard. They didn’t respond, so he assumed they were okay with that. With their usual puff of smoke and fire, both panthers vanished and the tunnel was plunged into absolute darkness.

Esset strained his ears and found himself twitching at each skitter, hiss, and click the Reshkin made in the darkness. The acoustics of the tunnel made it difficult to tell exactly how close they were, whether they were advancing or retreating or neither. He trusted the Nadra to tell him if he needed to summon something again, but it was nerve-racking to be forced to rely on them. He felt helpless in the darkness. He didn't like feeling helpless.

The sounds of the Reshkin vanished around them, but Esset remained tense. There was a long silence, a silence made longer by the darkness. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the Nadra next to him whispered, "They are withdrawing." Then there was another long silence before the warrior spoke normally and began moving.

"There, they are far enough away. Let us retrieve our equipment from the armory."

Esset walked forward when he heard their scales moving on the floor again.

"There will be lanterns in the armory," Nassata said behind him, much to Esset’s relief. At least she was aware of how uncomfortable this darkness was for him.

"Thank Hyrishal," Esset said. They entered the armory, and Esset found that he had to step carefully—the footing was a bit slick, and part of him was glad that he couldn’t get a good look at the ground. One of the Nadra found and lit a lantern, and he chose to avoid looking at his feet. A soft glow filled the room, illuminating the Nadra, who were already hard at work collecting the weapons and piling them into great wheeled crates that were already in the room. Within minutes, the four crates were packed and they were heading back down the tunnel, each Nadra pushing a crate. Esset brought up the rear, grateful to leave the haunting tunnel behind them.

As promised, Toman and Kessa resumed their discussion when he took a break. He was true to his word—he worked faster when he could concentrate completely, and he gained momentum as he worked. He had a handful of rough-hewn soldiers with stone clubs ready to command. He hadn’t wasted much time on any unnecessary finer features—it was by general shape alone that they could be identified as human soldiers. Instead he just concentrated on quantity and their durability and such—considerations that mattered for the task at hand. He could care less about their aesthetics as long as they got the job done as effectively as possible.

"Phew. Well, that’s a good start," Toman said, plopping down on a rock near Kessa. "So, ready to explain to me about the energies you mentioned?"

"I’d like to try," Kessa responded. She collected her thoughts and then began. "So, there are certain things that we can see in the world. There’s the flow of water, that always takes the path of least resistance, but can wear away stone with enough persistence. There is heat, which flows from object to object—you can feel it at least, even if you can’t see it. There’s even the wind, and the sun. All of these energies we can feel through touch.

“But there are other energies too. Every time we move or do not move, there are different kinds of energy. For every emotion that is felt, different energies are created. Energies can come from color and sound, and different patterns in them. These are energies that exist but that we cannot touch with our bodies, but can with our souls. Magic is the bridge between those energies, as well as being a kind of energy itself.

“So, everything we do affects the energies around us. That is why peace is so important. If there is no peace, all the bad energies would tear us apart. Our souls would eventually become obliterated or lost in the energies. It’s only amongst peaceful energies that we can not only survive, but thrive."

Toman considered her explanation and ended up nodding. "I suppose that makes sense," he replied. It wasn’t a view he would ascribe to, but it certainly wasn’t irrational.

"Of course it makes sense!" Kessa replied indignantly. "It’s true!"

"Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that," Toman apologized. "I wasn’t assuming what you told me would be nonsense or something. All I meant was that these are new ideas to me, but they make sense anyways. I’m not the great thinker that Esset is. I’m smart enough, but when it comes to delving into the mysteries of our world… Well, I’m not interested like he is. I’m simpler that way, I guess. I believe in Bright Hyrishal—that’s our religion—and it makes sense too. And my religion isn’t something I can just abandon willy-nilly. I could give you an overview of my beliefs, but frankly, I probably wouldn’t do a very good job."

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