Destiny's Rift (Broken Well Trilogy) (24 page)

Two to go, four to stay
, he decided reluctantly.

‘Ectid, Gremin,’ he said, choosing the youngest and eldest. ‘You will set a trail from the cave mouth, in our natural form. Head east, along the earth where your footprints will be clearly seen. Travel for an hour at most.’

‘Why?’ said Ectid, clearly not wanting to be sent away.

‘Because if the blue-haired man follows you, I will know he hasn’t found the Stone and thus suspects we have it.’

‘What if he does not follow?’ said Gremin.

‘Then neither will we. Like as not he will lead his group back to the village at the forest’s edge. If we have not joined you by nightfall, journey to meet us there.’

Ectid gurgled and Gremin rose, shedding his rock form as long limbs and claws unfurled.

•

Losara let his senses expand widely throughout the cavern. He wasn’t sure what the Stone would feel like, or if he would even know it at all. Maybe the Mireforms had found it already, maybe they hadn’t. He wasn’t sure yet what he preferred.

He glanced at Bel, who was wandering around the dragon’s corpse, inspecting it with his sword still in his hand.

Robbed of the fight
, Losara thought.
Disappointed. How strange.
He thought of the expression on Bel’s face when he’d reminded him there was still another dragon – it had been something close to hopeful.

Perhaps . . .
came Fazel’s thought.

What is it?
sent Losara.

Perhaps I’ve found it.

Wait for me to get there.

‘What is that?’ asked Bel, standing by Fazel. Fazel was levitating one of the dragon’s bloody claws off the ground, fresh blood leaking from deep scratches.

Too late I fear
, came Fazel’s thought, almost mocking in its lack of emotion.

Dangling from the dragon’s claw was a chain of black gold with a pendant affixed that looked like a small rock.

‘Must have been precious to her,’ said Fazel, ‘for her to sleep with it under her claw. Seems her son must have repeated those stories I told him about its worth. Strange that he even gave it to her – it’s very unlike normal dragon behaviour.’

Bel reached to snatch the chain, and held the Stone up to his fiercely blazing eyes.

‘We found it!’ he said. ‘By Arkus . . .’

Strange patterns moved across the rock’s surface – greys, blues, darkness and light, tinges of yellow. It was a subtle effect, yet otherworldly.

‘The Stone of Evenings Mild!’

From the look on his face, he could scarcely believe it.

The others came running eagerly. Jaya gave a whoop, and threw her arms around Bel. M’Meska landed heavily, having leaped from somewhere, and crooked her head to sniff at the chain.

‘Such a small thing,’ said Hiza, staring in wonder.

All the while Losara stood calmly, considering his next move. He could take the Stone right now, if he wished, and there was little they could do to stop him. It would mean dropping his disguise, but he had probably learned everything he could. He felt this moment keenly. It was as if he stood at a crossroads . . . and yet perhaps he could defer the decision until they were all free and clear.

‘Come,’ he said. ‘We can celebrate later, in less perilous confines. The other dragon could return at any time, and who knows where the Mireforms lurk, if they have failed to achieve their purpose.’

He wondered if they had killed the other dragon too, if Bel was now safe . . . but without being able to find them to ask, he could not be sure.

‘Yes,’ said Hiza, who, unlike Bel, had the sense to be edgy down here. ‘Let us make haste!’

‘Just one more minute,’ said Jaya, stopping to scoop gold coins from the ground.

‘Come on, you,’ said Bel, playfully grabbing her ear as if she was a recalcitrant child. She grinned up at him cheekily: either his excitement was contagious or she was gleeful after running amok through a treasure trove. ‘Listen to that, you’re already clinking when you move. I saw you eyeing off that statue too – did you really think you could lug such a weight all the way home?’

Jaya shrugged. ‘A solid chunk of pure gold is worth considering. Even if it’s carved to look like some ugly old man.’

Losara had recognised the statue as a bust of Raker, the Shadowdreamer Battu had overthrown.
No wonder he did not mind removing it from the castle.

Jaya came to her feet, managing to keep hold of some of the coins while others slipped from her fingers. ‘You can’t blame me,’ she said. ‘It’s not every day I get set loose in a dragon’s hoard.’

Laughing, the two of them led the way back to the passage. Hiza followed quickly and, as M’Meska went, she also snatched a handful of coins from the ground, shooting Losara a look that dared him to object.

‘You think just because I not a thief,’ she said, ‘I not can spend such pretties in tavern?’

‘You’ve earned it,’ said Losara, forcing a smile.

As they walked, a welcome breeze of fresh air came down the tunnel, shearing the edge off the powerful stench of the lair. Soon they were outside in the sun.

‘What now?’ said Hiza.

‘We make for Kahlay,’ said Bel. ‘Back the way we came.’

‘Look.’ M’Meska bent to touch the ground. From the cave’s entrance ran footprints, off past a group of large rocks and heading east. ‘Mireform go that way.’

‘Good,’ said Bel, glancing briefly at the tracks. ‘Let them crawl back to Fenvarrow empty-handed. We’ve got what we came for.’

He held the Stone aloft in the light.

The Warriors

The Warriors

The Warriors

The return through the woods was largely uneventful. It seemed to Bel as if somehow they made better progress than when they’d actually been rushing. Maybe in their haste they had got off track – but that didn’t make sense, for they followed their own trail back. Maybe anxiety had made the time seem to pass more slowly, and elation at their success had the opposite effect. Anyway, it hardly mattered – he had the Stone!

Darkness set in about an hour after they passed the clearing they’d slept in the night before. As they set about making camp, Bel could not help but have distrustful thoughts over those tracks they’d seen leading away from the cave. Would the Mireforms really give up so easily? Or had his
other
given them orders not to engage him? That made more sense, for he knew Losara did not, could not, wish him dead.

As he thought of the Shadowdreamer, he remembered Gellan’s words at the cave mouth about Fazel. He watched the green-robed figure sitting glumly, skeletal elbows resting on his knees, bony chin on his hands. Gellan had been right, of course – if Losara had known they headed to the dragon’s lair, surely he would know who it was that guided them.

‘Fazel,’ he said, and the skull gaze turned to him.

‘Yes?’

‘Show me again your old face – your true face. Please.’

The mage paused quizzically, then passed a hand over himself. The skull rippled away, replaced by the bearded old man with grey eyes.

‘Why do you not wear this face more often?’ asked Bel.

The mage prodded at the ground with a stick. ‘It saddens me,’ was all he said.

He should release Fazel, Bel knew. Not only was it the prudent thing to do, it was also the right thing. But they were not free of the dragon’s territory yet, and there was also the possibility that the Mireforms would come back. Although the beasts were resistant to magic, that did not void a mage’s power against them. Directly targeted spells would do no good, but there were always indirect methods – such as bringing trees crashing down, or opening up pits in the ground.

‘Perhaps,’ Bel said, ‘I shall make you a promise, Fazel – that once we get a little further away, I will free you from your service once and for all.’

Fazel looked at him a long time then, but for all his reaction he may as well have still been a skeleton.

•

Gellan offered to sit first watch.

‘I’m not sure you are the wisest choice,’ said Bel. ‘If the Mireforms come after us, you will not sense them.’

‘Neither will you,’ countered the mage, ‘but my eyes work just as well as yours.’

Bel did not argue too hard, for he was tired, and soon was lying on a bedroll with Jaya snuggled up close against him. As he was just about to doze off, a sound in the distance made him sit bolt upright.

It was soft at the start, a low and mournful howl that seemed to strain with great pressure behind it. The pressure released, and the howl erupted into full-bodied despair, on and on in one wavering note, until the trees around them shook. It rose and fell, ululating between rage and sorrow, echoing throughout the wood.

‘I think the son may have found his mother,’ said Fazel.

The sound ceased abruptly and they waited for a long while, listening . . . but there was nothing more.

‘Better try to get some sleep,’ said Fazel, almost good-humouredly.

As Bel lay back with his eyes wide open, somehow the canopy of branches above them did not seem adequate cover from the starry sky.

•

Daybreak brought with it a feeling of being more tired than when he’d lain down. Bel guessed that he’d managed an hour’s sleep at most, and the ground seemed harder and more uncomfortable than ever before. He rose to find M’Meska tucking into a raw rabbit.

‘Want eat?’ she said, proffering a half-chewed corpse. ‘No fire, don’t want risk for to be seen.’

‘No, thank you,’ said Bel.

Soon they were on their way once more. As dawn turned into the blaze of day, they found themselves at the forest’s edge. Beyond lay Valdurn . . . and the scent of meat cooking and the sight of smoke rising. Bel’s stomach growled before he had the terrible thought that what he smelt could be the funeral pyre.

‘Very quiet,’ said M’Meska.

‘Let us move carefully,’ warned Bel.

They stepped out amongst the huts, but this time there were no bodies to be seen. The man they’d met must have done the grisly work of clearing them all away. Bel wondered if he was still here, or what miserable shape they would find him in.

‘Seb?’ called Hiza. ‘Kera?’

‘Shhh!’ said Bel.

‘We should never have left them,’ said Hiza.

‘What choice did we have?’ said Bel defensively.

He led them around a slashed-up hut, coming in sight of the village square. A great black pyre smouldered there, in which could be seen bones not yet reduced to ash. A short distance from it, a group of figures hunched around a smaller fire, roasting meat.

‘Survivors?’ whispered Jaya.

‘I don’t think so,’ said Bel. ‘Survivors would not fill their bellies so close to the remains of their still-smoking friends.’

One of the figures glanced up, got to his feet. They were men, six of them, wearing leather armour and carrying swords and shields; they were battle-scarred and grizzled. They looked like a band of mercenaries.

‘Ho there,’ called the one standing. ‘We didn’t realise anyone was left alive here!’

Behind him the others all but ignored the newcomers.

‘Bel . . .’ said Gellan warningly.

‘I know,’ said Bel. ‘Everyone stay close.’

He moved to stand on the other side of the square, then came to a halt with his hand on his sword hilt.

‘I appreciate your wariness,’ said the man, ‘but you have nothing to fear.’

‘How did you come here?’ asked Bel.

‘From the south,’ replied the man. ‘We heard this village was beset by monsters, and thought to offer our services. As you can see,’ he gestured around, ‘we arrived too late.’

‘There were people still here two days ago,’ said Hiza.

‘Must have moved on,’ shrugged the man. ‘Wouldn’t you? Nothing left to stay for. By Arkus,’ he laughed, ‘who could do such a thing? I’ve seen monster attacks before, but nothing like this. Maybe it was the dragon?’

Behind him the other warriors started to rise. As they did, the spit roast became visible. Perched above the flames was a man’s arm, some of its hair still frizzling in the heat.

‘I trust you are enjoying this little charade?’ said Bel, drawing his sword.

The man cocked his head quizzically, then glanced at the fire and the smoking appendage. His gaze returned with a smile on his face. The other warriors began to fan out beside him.

‘Waste not, want not,’ he said, and held out his hand. ‘Now, give us the Stone, and you and your friends can walk away unharmed.’

A path sprang up before Bel thick and fast, pulling at him like a powerful current.

‘Please,’ he managed to mutter to the others, ‘protect each other. Don’t . . . worry about me.’

Frenzy blazed through him and before he knew it, he was speeding towards the warriors with his blade held high. For a moment they stood, startled, not expecting such a sudden attack. As Bel’s sword sliced down upon one of their arms, fierce joy
zinged
through him. The arm fell away, mud spurting from the wound, and the warrior roared, his mouth elongating to widen his head. Another warrior drew his sword, and as he did his arm changed, sword hilt becoming an extension of ropy limb, blade fanning out into a brace of knife-like claws. Bel surrendered wholly to the fight, whirling amongst them as they began to change. Leather bubbled and became muddy skin, arms and legs extended, tendrils burst free. One of them, still mostly a man-shape, opened its mouth and shot out a needle-tipped tongue at Bel’s chest.

‘No!’ gurgled the leader, half-transformed, and snipped the tongue from the air with the tips of its claws. ‘He must not be harmed!’

Bel sensed their confusion as pathways spread out amongst them – there were now many ways in which he could travel to take advantage of their hesitation. He feinted then rolled, hacked out a pair of bandy legs, and a Mireform went down roaring. It kicked its stumps and new legs grew, thinner than before.

‘Restrain him!’ bellowed the leader, all vestiges of humanity melting away.

Claws closed over his arm. He did not feel the pain as he twisted free of a grip that cut him but had no real purchase as long as he was willing to suffer the consequences.

‘Get the others!’ the leader yelled.

Bel spun and saw Hiza and Jaya standing with swords drawn as the leader advanced on them, and M’Meska leaping up onto the roof of a hut, loosing arrows.
Does no good
, he thought dimly.
Got to cut, not pierce.
Then the path swept him along and, without even looking, he rolled away from a tendril that sought to entangle him. The sword followed him around and the tendril went flying.

‘Fazel!’ he screamed. ‘Gellan!’

He caught a brief glimpse of Gellan standing with his hands out, looking lost, as if unsure what spell to cast.

‘Do something!’

‘What is wrong, little light mage?’ laughed a Mireform, looming over Gellan. ‘Could it be we have no orders
not to kill you
?’

Gellan waved a hand and the earth split beneath the Mireform, which suddenly found itself falling. The mage flicked his wrist and the hole closed up, swallowing the creature. Immediately, a clawed hand burst up through the ground like some abnormal bloom. Seconds later, the Mireform was pulling itself up, dirt showering from its back.

‘Think you can bury what is already earth?’ it roared.

•

Stop this
, Losara tried again. The thought slid off the Mireform, failing to penetrate its magically resistant hide.

They can’t hear you
, came Fazel’s thought.
You will have to reveal yourself to call them off.

The undead mage gestured at a hut, ripping wood free and sending pieces spinning towards the Mireform, beating it backwards, delaying it, but doing no real harm.

•

A tendril wrapped around Hiza’s leg, yanked violently and sent him to the ground. Jaya found herself facing the Mireform leader alone. She swiped at it but the grinning thing rocked backwards, easily avoiding her blade, while at the same time its tongue shot out towards her. Her reflexes kicked in and she somersaulted backwards, landing amongst the huts. Suddenly she could not see any of the others.

The Mireform gurgled with laughter and tottered forward. Fear came upon her, a kind of fear she had never known. She turned to run, and her legs almost got away from her. She found herself crashing through the door of a hut and sprawling on a rug. There she lay dazed for a moment, her eye a finger’s breadth from a colourful flower woven into the fabric. For a moment the banal little picture was the only thing she could concentrate on, a pretty motif amidst the ruin.

‘Think you can hide in there?’ came a mocking burble.

She rolled off her stomach and elbowed herself backwards along the floor as the Mireform lurched outside the door. It gripped the doorframe and pulled, tearing away half of the hut.

‘Plenty others had that idea when we were here before,’ it said. ‘Suppose it helped them?’

Clicking its claws, it ambled inside.

•

Bel swung hard at a grinning head, sending it sloughing away from the shoulders. Mud bubbled at the neck as the head re-formed. He sliced again, this time at the arms. The head appeared just in time to yowl as the arms fell away, and he lopped it off for a second time. As the arms grew back it was off with the legs, then a mighty heave to cut the torso cut in half. Mud splattered his eyes as he relentlessly butchered the thing where it stood, denying it the chance to regain shape. Soon the Mireform was nothing but a puddle at his feet, from which a small worm-shape slithered away into the grass. Bel flung his sword, cutting it in two, and there was a sound like steam shooting from a kettle as it withered.

One down.

He pulled his sword from the ground, and for a moment stood disoriented. The remaining Mireforms had shambled off in pursuit of the others, leaving him alone before the smouldering pyre with nothing to attack.

Further off he saw M’Meska bound from a roof, saw a tendril shoot up and seize her leg, bringing her down somewhere out of view amongst the huts. Where were Jaya and the rest?

He heard her cry out in fear or pain, or both, and the sound was like an arrow through his heart. The bloodlust was not enough to dull his terror, and he raced towards her voice, cursing. He burst into a space between a group of dwellings just as Gellan and Fazel ran in from a different direction. A roar came from within a shaking hut, then the sides splintered as the entire structure fell away. The Mireform leader was revealed, stooping over something, obscuring his view of it. Then the creature lifted Jaya bodily into the air, its tendrils whipping to encircle her, pinning her to its chest as it spun to face them with both arms free. Dazedly she struggled, but more tendrils appeared from the Mireform’s abdomen, restraining her like a fly in a spider’s web. It grinned as it waved claws in front of her face, grinding them together harshly.

‘Look, Bel,’ it said. ‘I wear your woman like a tabard.’

Another Mireform appeared behind it, dragging the thrashing M’Meska by her tail. Then another, with Hiza slung across its back, and the fourth and fifth as well.

‘Don’t hurt her!’ shouted Bel, more anger in his voice than plea.

‘See what happens,’ the leader said, ‘when you deny us? Now the girl dies, and your friends will follow if you will not give the Stone.’

It opened its wide mouth even wider, borrowing substance from the rest of its body to create a cavernous abyss of fangs that closed down upon Jaya.

‘Idiot,’ said Bel.

The Mireform’s eyes rolled to focus on Bel. ‘What?’

‘You’re going to start with her, the one I hold dearest . . . and then work your way
back
through the others, when you’ll have already done the worst of the harm? That’s like cutting out a man’s heart and then tickling his toes. You have the order all wrong.’