“That I do.” Dawson pointed at DemonsBane. “We know your blade will remove demons, just as we know any other crystal blade can destroy them once they’re separated from the body they’ve been inhabiting. I suggest we bring the guards to you one by one.” He glanced at Birk. “That’s where you can tip the balance for us, Birk. If we can get the guards in here to Artigos one at a time so he can use DemonsBane to remove their demons, we should quickly get control of all of the ones still down here. We’ll have to worry about the guards on the upper levels later. Still, you are all sworn to uphold Lemuria. The demons have interfered with your ability to stick to your oath. I imagine the other guards will react much as you have, Birk, once they realize what’s been controlling them.”
Birk nodded. “I agree. Lord Artigos, if you’re all right with that, I can start bringing the guards in at any time.”
Artigos nodded. Dawson continued, making his points clearly and without hesitation. “I think they’ll want to follow you as the rightful leader of Lemuria. I can’t speak for your son or his feelings about giving up his seat as chancellor. Maybe, once his demon is gone, he’ll understand the error of his actions. I know that Alton wants no part of the chancellorship. His hold on the position, for now at least, is tenuous. He’s only taken the seat for the good of Lemuria. He has no desire to rule.”
“That makes me proud. He was an honorable young man. It’s good to know his honor continues.”
Birk stood. “I need to go back outside and stand guard before the next man shows up to relieve the post. Are you ready for me to bring him to you?”
Artigos nodded. “No time like the present. I just wish I had a backup. I’d hate to allow any to escape.”
Roland unsheathed his sword. “I might be able to help.”
Birk stared at him. “I thought so! You carry crystal. How is that? I thought only the ruling class carried crystal blades.”
“Times have changed, Birk. Hold your sword high.”
“I don’t want to fight you.” Birk frowned, but he pulled his steel sword from the sheath and pointed the blade up. Roland pressed the crystal point of his sword to Birk’s. The crystal shimmered and glowed, growing ever brighter until Selyn had to look away. Birk’s soft curse had her squinting to see what had happened.
His formerly steel blade shimmered with the clear blue light of crystal. Roland sheathed his sword. Artigos shook his head in utter disbelief. “You’re not kidding, sergeant. Times have definitely changed. How did you do that?”
Roland grinned at Birk as the big man twisted and turned his sword, admiring the faceted blade. “Alton’s woman, who thought she was purely human but is, in fact, a descendant of Lemurian royalty, has a sword that was presented to her in front of the entire gathering of Lemurian citizens in the great plaza. It was replicated by Alton’s white crystal, but Ginny’s glows with a dark purple fire. The crystal blade appears to be amethyst. It is known as DarkFire, and the blade’s spirit is Daria the Crone.”
“The Crone?” Artigos shook his head. “Daria, as I remember her, was a beautiful woman who bravely fought demonkind. She was no crone, though she was not a young woman even then. But what does this have to do with … ?”
Laughing, Roland continued. “She personally welcomed Ginny, a human woman, as the daughter of Lemurian royalty, gave her a kiss that offered immortality, and then turned to dust … all in front of our citizens. When the sword appeared, replicated by Alton’s, DarkFire spoke with Daria’s voice. Later, when three of my men and I were in the energy vortex trying to keep demons from entering Lemuria, Ginny’s sword turned mine and those of my men to crystal. I sensed Birk’s could be changed as well. My sword doesn’t yet speak, but she makes her wishes known.”
“She? Your blade’s spirit is female?” Birk looked at his blade. “Will mine have the spirit of a woman as well?”
Roland shook his head. “I don’t know, Birk. But I do know that you now have a power you lacked before with that steel blade of yours. You have a weapon that will become your companion in battle, your advisor, your closest friend. But even better, you now have the weapon you need to battle demonkind, and win.”
Chapter Ten
Dawson held tightly to Selyn’s hand as they slipped through the last of the common passageways to the hidden tunnels that would lead them even deeper into the bowels of the Lemurian dimension. Roland led the way, his glimmering sword the only light now that they’d moved beyond the regular underground pathways.
“Selyn, have you ever been this far below before?” Dawson kept her hand clenched in his. He felt her tension, the nervous energy that had her breaths coming in short, staccato bursts and her feet occasionally stumbling on the rocky path.
“Never. We were forbidden to leave the levels where we lived and worked. I knew there were passages that led below, but I’ve never followed them. Roland, how did Taron find this way? From what I have heard, the citizens of Lemuria generally know little of the levels beyond their own, including the one where the Forgotten Ones live.”
Roland held his sword high and checked a split in the tunnel ahead. “Taron was led by his crystal sword. I merely follow the markings he left on the walls.” He pointed to a long scrape at eye level leading to the passage veering off to the right. “I’ve only been to the levels beneath yours once before, and never this far or deep. That other time, Taron met me halfway. We passed that point some time back, at that last set of steps. Come. I don’t think it’s too much farther.”
The walls were damp and cold. In some areas, strange, luminescent algae added a soft, yet otherworldly glow to the passage. The constant sounds of water dripping, of their labored breathing, and the clatter of rocks and pebbles underfoot echoed ahead and behind.
There was something timeless about these passages, as if the three of them passed through more than space … as if they marched into time itself.
A shiver spiked along Dawson’s spine. Time? He had no idea if it was day or night, how long since they’d left Sedona, how many hours since their last meal, since they’d last slept. Adrenaline coursed through his body, and he was high and filled with energy—and totally out of touch with time.
He rarely wore a wristwatch, and he hadn’t thought to wear one today. What day was it? How long had they been here, and how much longer before they reached Taron, before they had swords for all the women?
Did it matter? Alton was waiting to hear from them, but he’d been prepared to wait.
This was truly a timeless realm, and Dawson passed here with a sense he walked on ground no human foot had ever trod, not only in a dimension separate from Earth’s, but in an area that was basically off-limits to this dimension’s inhabitants.
Who had created this labyrinth, what forces determined the tunnels and caverns, the odd forms of life? Though he knew the dimension existed within the volcanic core of Mount Shasta, the caves and passages they hiked through now were not volcanic in appearance. Instead, they reminded him of the limestone caves he’d clambered through when he was young.
Stalactites and stalagmites projected bizarre shadows and twists to the light from Roland’s sword, and in some areas, brilliant color ran in bold bands across the walls and over the relatively smooth floor. It was an unworldly experience, almost beyond belief.
He thought of his clinic and the employees there who had no idea where their nerdy vet was spending his time away from work. How he wished he could share this adventure with them, but he had a feeling even the ghost of his Aunt Fiona might have trouble swallowing a story so bizarre.
He gazed at the strange glow shimmering along the walls, at the big man ahead. Felt the warmth of Selyn’s fingers linked to his. He realized it wasn’t all that easy to believe any of it himself.
Especially Selyn. She was beautiful and exotic and holding his hand. That alone defied belief.
A glow in the passageway ahead was the first hint they might be reaching the end of their journey. Roland glanced over his shoulder. “I’m hearing from Taron. He’s got the swords finished, and they’re all packed to go.” He laughed. “It appears our young aristocrat is more than ready to leave this place. He misses his warm bathing pool!”
He picked up the pace until they were practically trotting down the dark tunnel toward a light that grew brighter the closer they got. It was almost as bright as day when they entered a huge cavern.
Dawson’s first thought was that he’d stepped into a massive geode filled with diamonds. The walls curved high overhead and sparkled with clear crystalline facets reflecting an eerie blue light.
Taron stood near the center of the cavern, a man unlike anything Daws had expected. He was the same height as Alton, with a similar build and eyes the same brilliant emerald green, but his hair hung in braids of crimson silk, as fiery and true a red as the ruby sword.
He met them as they entered the cavern, smiling broadly at Roland and looking upon both Selyn and Dawson with obvious curiosity. He stretched his hand out to Dawson first. “So you’re the human demon hunter I’ve heard of.” Laughing, he shook Dawson’s hand. “When Alton described how you sucked up demons with a shop vacuum and froze them in little bags, he could barely get the words out he laughed so hard. Excellent thinking. Nothing like taking a new approach. It’s good to meet you.”
Then he turned to Selyn and carefully took her hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you, as well. I’ve been told of your bravery. Roland says the sword was truly that of Artigos the Just, that our leader still lives. Your knowledge of his whereabouts may just alter the course of this fight in our favor. Thank you.”
Dawson couldn’t stop the chill that coursed along his spine when Taron held on to Selyn’s hand for what seemed much too long. She certainly wasn’t trying to pull out of his grasp, though she did send one uneasy glance in Dawson’s direction. Then Taron released his hold on her and smiled at all of them.
“For the first time, I have hope we may actually prevail. What first felt like a fool’s errand has already borne fruit. The swords are finished and ready, but knowing that Artigos the Just still lives, that I have had a small part in recreating his weapon so that you might return it to him …” He shook his head, as if denying all that had passed. “Amazing, to be part of history in the making,” he said. “Absolutely amazing.”
Then he showed them the wrapped bundles piled beside a ruby red altar near one crystalline wall of the cavern. Small glow sticks set on sconces on the walls were the source of the brilliant, cold blue light. As insignificant as the sticks were, their multiple reflections off the crystalline walls illuminated the entire cavern. Yet even with the light, as Dawson glanced around, he thought it was a cold and unforgiving place to have spent so many days creating swords for an untried army.
In spite of that unexpected frisson of jealousy, he had to admire Taron and what he’d accomplished. At the same time, he wondered what Selyn thought of the Lemurian aristocrat. She’d hardly known any other decent men. Would she be interested in this guy, one who was more like her? A man of the same people, with an immortal life span to match her own?
Shit.
Daws shook his head and pulled his thoughts together. He had no right to be jealous of Taron or anyone else. No right to think along those lines. Selyn belonged to no man, especially not to Dawson Buck. It wasn’t up to him to choose a man for Selyn, right or wrong. She was her own woman and would make up her own mind.
But then she reached for his hand, wrapped her fingers in his, and looked at him with such a serious expression on her face, that all his good intentions faded beneath the warmth of her touch and the subtle invitation in her smile.
Even wrapped in rough cloth and bundled together in nice, neat packs, the swords were heavy and difficult to carry. Since they hadn’t come with scabbards, the women were going to have to come up with some way to carry them, but just getting a hundred weapons from the lower levels to the slave quarters was turning out to be more difficult than Selyn had imagined.
She had no idea if Birk and Artigos were having any success exorcising demons from the guards, which meant she and Dawson, Taron, and Roland had to slip in and out of this occupied level with every care possible.
She wished she knew what time it was, what the schedule might be, but she’d lost all track. Running on pure adrenaline made it harder to judge how long they’d been going now, but it had taken them longer to reach Taron than she’d expected, and it could be the middle of the night for all she knew.
Whatever. They would just have to trust to luck and hope they weren’t entering the passages during a shift change for the guards, or at a time when patrols were moving through.
Once they reached the upper levels, Selyn took the lead. These dark passages and many tunnels had been her home for her entire life. She knew all the hidden pathways, all the places where guards would linger, where sound might carry.
Loaded down with a heavy bundle of crystal swords, she moved as quietly as she could. Even the slightest noises carried in these tunnels. The sound of their passing was only partially muffled by the ever-pervasive rumble of heavy mining equipment and the distant voices of the Forgotten Ones.
These were women who had known nothing beyond slavery. Their lives had been unchanging from the time they were old enough to pick gems from broken rock, mere toddlers sitting in small groups, searching for the shimmer of diamonds and rubies, hunting for emeralds and other precious stones.
As they’d grown, they’d taken on more physical labor. As adult women, they—like Selyn—were strong and broad shouldered, muscular as their mothers had been, and physically stronger than many men. Even so, they still spent part of each day searching for the gems that were so easily lost amid the rubble.
Gems they would never see in their final, cut form. Gems that would go to decorate ladies of the aristocracy, or be sold in trade to an outside world even the free folk never saw.
Selyn couldn’t let herself think about the lies, the subterfuge, the horrible lives they’d all been subjected to, all because of demonkind. If what Artigos the Just said was the truth, all of them were victims. All of them subject to the evil plans of demons. Plans that were so far along and so well established and entrenched within Lemurian society, she could only pray they had some hope of changing what had been put in motion so many thousands of years ago.
Selyn stopped at the final portal leading to the more heavily traveled areas. Slowly and quietly she set her bundle on the ground. “I have to be sure the passage is clear. The living quarters are close—only a short walk away—but we can’t afford discovery at this point.”
Before the men could question her, she slipped through the portal and around a corner. The long tunnel was empty. The only voices she heard were the sounds of women in the nearby living quarters, talking quietly between shifts while others slept. She hurried back to the men. “I’m going to warn them we’re coming. I don’t want anyone to raise an alarm.”
Dawson nodded. Then he shocked her by leaning close and kissing her. The gentle contact of his mouth on hers made her heart race, but it did something else. Something she hadn’t expected.
It gave her the burst of confidence she needed to smile at him and turn away. To slip through the portal, and then to race down the brightly lit passage and walk boldly into the main room where her sisters, the Forgotten Ones, gathered.
There were at least thirty women here. The sense of homecoming almost brought Selyn to her knees. She’d been so afraid she’d never see any of them again.
“Selyn? Where the nine hells have you been? We’ve been searching for you!”
She hugged her friend Nica, but quickly stepped back. “I will tell you soon, but for now, I bring friends of mine. Wait until you see what they’ve brought us! Remember when I told you that there were members among the free folk who cared about our fate? That finally, we might have a chance at freedom? Some of you laughed at me; some of you believed.”
It was all she could do not to burst into laughter. “This is something beyond our greatest expectations. Wake those who sleep so they may join us. Welcome us quietly. I have crystal blades for every single one of us.”
Giving in to laughter, Selyn broke away from an entire room filled with women gasping in surprise, and raced back to the men. “Hurry. The way is still clear.” Gathering up her bundle of swords, she led them through the portal and down the tunnel to the main gathering room.
At the sight of the strange men, the women backed away, some still rubbing their eyes from their hastily interrupted sleep. All of them watched anxiously as Selyn began unwrapping her bundle of swords. She lay five glimmering blades out on a long table and then stood before it.
“These men are here to help us. You’ve heard me speak of Roland of Kronus, a member of the Lemurian Guard and the first of the free folk, ever, to search for the truth behind the Forgotten Ones. Roland saved my life just a few days ago when I was captured by one of our guards and badly beaten. Roland is a brave and fearless man who has chosen to help us.”
Roland bowed his head and then stepped back. Selyn smiled at him before gesturing toward Dawson. “This man is Dawson Buck, a human from Earth’s dimension who has unselfishly agreed to help us find freedom. He risks much for a people he didn’t even know existed until just a short time ago. We owe him our loyalty and our thanks.”