Sorrow's Peak (Serpent of Time Book 2) (68 page)

Finally, she cleared her throat and reached her hand over to clasp his. “I don’t know what really happened in these other lives. Who we were, what things we did or the reasons we did them, they don’t matter to me. All that does matter is this life, the one we’re living right now, and in this life I could never hate you. You are my friend.”

“You say that without hesitation, and yet I still don’t feel like I deserve to be your friend. I have kept things from you.”

“I’m sure you have your reasons.”

“I…” His hesitation hung between them like a ball of energy gathering force and about to explode. “In case we don’t make it through this, all of us, I mean… If something happens to me there is a letter...”

“Nothing is going to happen to any of us. We made a pact. We are all walking out of this mountain, even if it’s the last thing I do.”

“Don’t say that,” he whispered. “There is much for you to do beyond this mountain. You have to be strong.”

“I have to find my sister,” she muttered. “I know there is more at stake, but since we came to this place thoughts of her consume me. I can’t help fearing she is in terrible danger. That it’s up to me to save her.”

He said nothing. She didn’t know what she expected him to say, but then Finn stirred beside her, stretching his legs forward and pushing his back into the stone with a grunt and a groan that steered her from the conversation.

“Oh, good,” he muttered as he drew his arms back in. “I’m still alive. Wasn’t sure I would be.”

“As if I would just allow the drakoren to come and take you while you slept,” she chuckled and turned her gaze on him.

He looked scruffy, to say the least. Beard growth sprouting in disheveled patches on his cheeks, black hair askew. It was long enough to tie back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck, but when she suggested it he’d cocked an eyebrow at her and curled his lip in distaste at the very idea. She couldn’t imagine she looked much better. Her hair was greasy and tangled, her armor sweat-stained and she imagined she stunk, too. They’d splashed and washed in the pool but neither of them had a proper bath since they’d left Nua Duaan. The mere thought of one made her whole body tremble regrettably. There was no telling when she’d have chance for another bath. Maybe never.

“What if it took you while I slept?” he wondered aloud. “And I just slept right through the whole thing?”

“That didn’t happen, so let’s not even speculate.”

“Don’t you think it’s strange though, that it’s just sort of left us alone since it blinded the mage?”

“I’m not blind,” Bren insisted. “I just can’t see very well, but it’s getting better. I’m sure it’s studying us, looking for weaknesses to exploit when we finally come face to face with it.”

“I’d like to exploit a few of its weaknesses.”

“I’m sure you’ll have opportunity to do just that in good time.”

“I hope that good time happens soon. I’m getting real tired of this mountain.” He didn’t have to voice the rest of what he was thinking. He was getting tired of waiting around for death. She could feel it. He didn’t want to die, but it felt pointless just sitting there.

“My vision is returning,” the mage assured him. “It won’t be long now.”

And maybe he was right. Maybe it wasn’t long, but it felt like forever. By the time Finn’s sighs grew unbearable, Brendolowyn claimed he could see well enough to move, but the darkness made it hard for him to navigate. The three of them stuck together, holding onto one another as they moved forward into the dank, reeking tunnels leading to the drakoren’s refuge.

Finn led, torch in front to illuminate the passage and Lorelei’s fingers curled tight through one of his armor buckles. Bren’s fingers clutched around her arm from behind, his steps shuffling into hers clumsily as they moved forward at a snail’s pace. None of them were going to be ready if they were attacked, but they forged ahead anyway, nudging one another as needed when hesitation and fear began to overwhelm them.

Approaching the tunnel’s entry, Finn hesitated at the cobwebs. She let go of him, edged past and held her torch to the thick blanket, watching as orange ember burned through the yellowed tangle of web, emitting black smoke as it smoldered and caught flame. They had to step back to give it room, as it spread quickly along the walls, both ahead and behind them, filling the space with unbearable heat and irritating smoke that quickly coated their throats and filled their lungs until they were choking.

It probably wasn’t the smartest thing she’d ever done. Moments later all three of them were crouched low on the ground as flames lapped the stone and smoke billowed in great plumes toward the open air. She felt like she was cooking inside her armor, as if her lungs themselves were on fire as she hacked and choked through layers of smoke.

And then a great gust of cooling wind swept all around them, turning the moisture in the air to frozen crystals not unlike flakes of snow that whirled and danced as they whooshed after the fire, swallowing and freezing the flames as it overran them. Bren stood above them, drawing his arms back into his body as she craned her head over her shoulder to look at him. The braids of his hair settled in around his face, still wavering gently in the dwindling wind drawing the smoke away from them so they could breathe again.

“Nice move,” Finn hacked into his forearm, words muffled, but still loud and clear. “Though I’m not entirely impressed with Princess’s plan to burn us all to ash so we don’t have face this thing.”

“It was an accident,” she wheezed. “I thought you were worried about… spiders.”

Gods, she wished she had that drink of water more than ever before. Why hadn’t they rationed their resources better?

“Accidents happen,” Brendolowyn agreed, then added, “but let’s not do that again anytime soon. Anymore spider webs and we carve through them.”

“I doubt we’ll find anymore spider webs,” Finn noted. “I think she obliterated every cobweb in this place.”

She felt stupid, at a loss for common sense. It was a well-known fact fire burned in the most dangerous of ways. She didn’t need Master Davan to teach her that, and yet she’d just foolishly set the whole mountain to flame without even thinking it through.

“It’s all right, Lore.” Finn reached out and lowered a hand on her shoulder, a natural response to all the things she was saying only to herself. “It was a mistake. No one got hurt. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

Shrugging off his hand, she took a step forward. She was starting to wonder if she was ever going to get used to him just knowing how she felt; she certainly couldn’t imagine what it would be like when she could feel him in the same way. She had enough trouble dealing with her own thoughts and emotions. Pile his on top of them and she’d be a walking disaster. How did he manage it?

With a weighty sigh, she huffed wisps of lightly singed hair off her forehead and marched into the tunnel. She didn’t know if it was the lingering residue of Brendolowyn’s magic, but the passage grew instantly cold, making goose bumps prickle across the exposed skin of her arms and along the back of her neck. Clearing her raw throat, she tried to ignore the strange feeling accompanying the cold, but it was impossible.

Her mind grappled with sensible thought, but eventually it lost hold and all she could think about was how foolish she was. How she had no business out in the civilized world, among people who actually knew things. She should have stayed in Rivenn, locked in the tower and oblivious to the goings on. She thought she had it so tough under Aelfric’s cold scrutiny, her greatest fear being married off to some fat old slob who’d beat her if she spoke her mind, but she was starting to think anything would be better than rushing through a world she knew nothing about.

And her sister. Gods save that poor child. Mirien was a clever girl, but she was equally naïve. Lorelei kept telling herself she had Pahjah to look after her, but what if they got separated? What if Mirien was out there all alone, scared and afraid and… too stupid to know she needed to find shelter when it rained?

“Hey.” Finn’s gruff interlude into her overwhelming thoughts startled her and she jumped as his hand came down once more upon her shoulder. “Whatever nonsense you’re worrying about, just stop. It’s not real, Princess. It’s part of the monster’s game.”

“My sister is out there, Finn. Maybe alone somewhere. What if she sets some mountain on fire and there isn’t a mage with her to put it out?”

“You said she was with your nursemaid, Pahjah, right?” Turning over her shoulder to look at him, she narrowed her eyes as she lifted them to his face. “Pahjah was a mage, wasn’t she?”

“A long time ago,” she shrugged. “But she was a slave. She’d been collared for decades. What if… what if she’s still collared? What if she can’t remember how…?”

“A mage never forgets how to cast, my lady. Your sister is in safe hands with Pahjah. Even if she is still collared, Pahjah will not let her come to harm.”

“You don’t know that,” she protested.

“When all of this is said and done, we will help you find her, but right now we have to focus on the task at hand.”

“Focus on the task at hand?” she balked. “While the only family I have left in the world is out there. Alone, scared… helpless…”

“Mirien is not the only family you have left, Princess. You have a brother back in Dunvarak who needs you just as much as your sister. Your nephew is counting on you coming back from this. And… I know we haven’t… We may not have… you know, established the bond between us, but we are family now too. Imagine how mad Viln will be at me if we don’t all make it back from this in one piece.”

“I didn’t…” She hadn’t thought about her brother once since they entered into the mountain. She’d almost entirely forgotten Logren existed at all, that she had a nephew waiting for her to return. She promised him before leaving she would have plenty of stories to tell him when she returned. “I can’t just turn my back on my sister, Finn.” She snapped back to despair almost as quick as thoughts of the rest of her family infiltrated her mind.

“No one is asking you to turn your back on your sister, Lore,” he said firmly. “But you can’t track her down until we get out of here, so let’s focus on that right now. Once we get out of this mountain, I’ll carry you on my gods damned back from one end of Leithe to the other to help you search for her. You have my word.”

“Is she going to be crippled for some reason?” Brendolowyn wondered aloud.

The absurdity of his question had the effect he’d obviously been aiming for, and when she glanced around Finn’s shoulder to look at him, she saw he was grinning.

Finn shrugged, offering, “You never know,” to further lighten the mood.

“When I would allow myself to be overcome by angst, Yovenna used to ask me, ‘Is there anything you can do about this right now?’ If there wasn’t, and I said no, she would then say, ‘Then why waste your energy worrying about it?’ I’m not saying you shouldn’t be worried about your sister, but there is nothing we can do right now. We have to focus on getting out of this mountain with the Horns of Llorveth in hand.”

“You’re right,” she gave in. “You’re both right. I can’t do anything now but finish what I came here to do.” She drew in a deep breath, threw her shoulders back and lifted her chin.

For the first time since they’d entered Great Sorrow, she felt like she could do what she’d come there to do.

CHAPTER FORTY

They wound through the broad tunnel, following its course for almost a mile before dull, wavering torchlight began refracting off the rising mound of golden treasure that was no less than a small mountain itself. It caught the light, brightening the entire cavern until it shone like midday. It was near impossible to stifle the whistle forming on his lips as he took it all in. Finn’s throat constricted as he swallowed the astonishment he felt. A mountain of treasure, gleaming and glistening in the flickering light of their orange-tipped torches.

Gold and silver, jewels, both loose and embedded in brooches, rings, necklaces and armbands. Ancient weapons jutted from the pile, like swords lodged in stone, and emptied suits of armor—the shells of fallen warriors—cast across a sea of shimmering riches. More than once he’d attempted to imagine what they might find in the belly of Great Sorrow, but it never quite reached the grand scale rising into shining hills before him.

Vast was an understatement, and distracted by its beauty, his mind was already spending those riches on a grand hall, a golden crown and a formidable army to protect all his belongings.

King Finn…

It had a nice ring to it. Much nicer than Mad Finn, he thought, though he wouldn’t object to being named Mad King Finn. That didn’t sound bad either.

No one would ever mock him again if he were a king. They’d have to take him seriously, do his bidding, follow his orders.

And Lorelei would have no second thoughts about wanting to spend the rest of her days with him. She’d be queen, the brightest jewel in his kingdom, and all who laid eyes upon her would envy the king who called her his own.

He wouldn’t even need much treasure to be richer than all the kings in Vennakrand. Only a few sacks full, a couple handfuls of jewels nestled in the depths of his pockets…

Without thought he stepped into the hoard, the sound of coin tinkling beneath his heavy boots as it skipped and shuffled when he kicked it. It shone so bright in the dull light of their meager torches, so beautifully…

“Finn, no!”

Her hand shot out, fingers clenching his wrist as the drakoren rose up out of the mountain of treasure in a burst of spraying gold and jewels. Riches rained like sparks, falling in metallic chinks and clunks as it burst from its hiding place like some toy jack-in-a-box that sprang out to catch unsuspecting children off guard. Brendolowyn’s hand shot past Finn’s shoulder, a stream of lightning shooting from the tips of his fingers as it sizzled and cracked the air beside his head.

Lorelei’s other hand gripped the leather-padded shoulder of his armor, and with more strength than he’d have ever given her credit for, she jerked him backward until he stumbled over his own boots and nearly toppled her into the cavern at her back.