Cobweb Empire (37 page)

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Authors: Vera Nazarian

Tags: #romance, #love, #death, #history, #fantasy, #magic, #historical, #epic, #renaissance, #dead, #bride, #undead, #historical 1700s, #starcrossed lovers, #starcrossed love, #cobweb bride, #death takes a holiday, #cobweb empire, #renaissance warfare

BOOK: Cobweb Empire
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And putting all the missing land pockets
together, it amounted to an area the size of more than half a
Kingdom.

Percy comprehended it, and in the same
instant she put her hands up to her mouth.

“Percy!” Beltain was speaking to her, his
gauntlet lightly shaking her shoulder.

“I actually felt it . . .
just now, I felt another portion of the world fade,” she replied.
“Like those disappearing streets in Letheburg, like Fioren
town. . . . And because it is a portion that lies
directly before us, somewhere past that green haze, the distances
within it have been shortened. . . . Now that
everything is closer, I can feel so many dead approaching our
way!—as though swept here by a great divine hand, narrowing the
distance in the blink of an eye. A great scattered army, from
horizon to horizon! The Cobweb Bride is out there, yes, but first,
these endless hordes of the dead will come. Oh, Lord in Heaven! The
siege around Letheburg is a small platoon compared to their
numbers!”

“An army of the
dead?
” the Duke
mused, his face paling. “No! Impossible! And you say they breached
our borders already? So,
that
is what was meant by a black
rose. . . .”

“How close are they?” Beltain did not blink,
merely reached back with his right gauntlet, resting it on the
pommel of his sword.

“I believe . . . they will be
upon us within the hour.”

 

 

Chapter
18

 

L
ady Amaryllis
Roulle, with the help of Lord Nathan Woult, was the first to step
into the boat. It rocked lightly under her delicate step, and with
a small cry Amaryllis grabbed Nathan’s outstretched gentlemanly
hand for balance.

Such strange, sweet, breathtaking,
treacle-sugary terror! To know that the silver-spun black waters
underneath her—underneath the floor of faded wood slats of this
rickety boat—were nothing but a flimsy bit of illusion born of
twilight!

As soon as Amaryllis settled on the narrow
middle bench, gathering her fine burgundy skirts about her, Nathan
proffered her their precious burning lantern.

“Here, dearest, hold this thing, for it
feeds our means of transport and in that sense our entire journey!
Now, be careful not too breathe too much upon it, nor let the oil
slosh around within the reservoir flask, else we extinguish the
light and with it the river. Also, do keep it upright and raised
just so, else the light will not properly reach the waters—”

“Not another word, Nathan, really, I am not
a half-wit. I am quite aware of the magnitude of this lantern and
all its philosophical implications. Now, please hurry and board,
before we lose any more time and, Heaven forbid, someone comes to
check on the prisoners!”

With His Lordship’s continued gentlemanly
assistance, the remaining girls climbed on board. First came
Regata, slim and careful, and she took a seat in the front, closer
to the bow. Then, little blond and fair Faeline came on, and she
clambered lightly to sit behind Regata. Sybil was next, and she
lingered in uncertainty, unwilling to take even a few extra steps
deeper than necessary into this questionable vessel. At last, very
slowly and awkwardly she climbed in behind Amaryllis and sat in the
boat’s rear portion at the stern.

Finally, Catrine made a grimace, glaring
with distrust at the fey running waters on both sides of the boat
that Nathan held with one hand, keeping it momentarily anchored
close to shore. And then she muttered a prayer, said a hearty
curse, and climbed in, finding a spot next to Sybil and behind
Amaryllis.

Lord Nathan Woult was the last one on shore.
He threw one look back at the cavernous dungeon chamber where a few
of the freed girls wandered, most of them staring with cautious
curiosity at the progress of the brave escapees in the boat.

“Ahoy, there!” he said to the girls left
behind. “As soon as we float away, I strongly suggest one of you
run along immediately and light that lantern on the wall, else
there will be no river and many highly unpleasant questions.
Besides, you do want light for yourself in this cave, do you not?
Just in case there are behemoths—”

“Enough, Nathan!” Amaryllis tugged the
filthy remnants of lace at his sleeve, and he went quiet with a
light wicked smile on his face. He then took the oars and stepped
into the boat, claiming a bench seat in the middle, just in front
of Amaryllis, where the rowlocks were attached.

As soon as the boat was released from shore,
it started to float gently on the current in the direction of the
distant cavernous tunnels at the farthest end of the cave. Nathan
fiddled with the oars at the rowlocks, making sure they were held
in place as properly as he imagined they ought to be. And in the
meantime the boat simply drifted slowly like a swan until it had
gone away far enough from shore that their solitary light started
to diminish, if viewed from the banks.

“Oh! It’s fading now! The river near here is
gone!” a girl’s voice spoke from the shore, her voice carrying in
echoes. “It is getting dark too, should I light the lantern on the
wall?”

“Not just yet!” Nathan responded from the
boat. “Wait till we are completely out of sight. If you light
another one too soon, remember, it will be too much illumination!
The river will disappear likewise, and we shall plummet down very
unpleasantly!” His voice also echoed and reverberated from the
growing distance.

“All right then, Lordship!” spoke another
girl on the shore. “Fare well!”

“You too!” cried Catrine from the boat,
waving. “Please be prayin’ for us!”

And in another few breaths they had reached
the end of the cavern and the opening of a tunnel.

“Oh dear . . .” said
Amaryllis. “I just had a very dire thought.”

“You, a dire thought? So, what is it now,
Amaryllis, sweet?”

But Amaryllis frowned, clutching the lantern
frame with her still hand. “The tunnel is going to
narrow
,
my dear boy. You—clever scholar of nature that you are—you do know
the implications of this, for our lamp?”

“What implications?” Nathan spoke, knowing
he was not going to like the answer one little bit.

“Why, only that in a smaller enclosed space
the light will appear
brighter
than in the middle of a grand
cavern! It will
reflect
off the nearby walls of the tunnel,
and dispel the twilight to a degree that will make our river
fade!”

“But it is the same light, is it not?” asked
Faeline.

“Sure it is,” Catrine responded. “But a
candle at open sea has nuttin’ but open spaces ’round it, so
there’s nuttin’ to shine off, an’ so it looks teeny tiny! I know,
’cause my Pa’s been on a sea-boat way down south, after they been
out robbin’—beggin’ pardon! But once you stick a candle in a
closet, the whole closet goes all bright! I get it!”

“Well, well . . .” Nathan
went so still he nearly released his grip on the oars.

“Ladyship,” Sybil said politely. “If the
light starts being too much, try putting the palm of your hand
around the lamp, maybe?”

“By Leonardo and his nonpareil genius! By
his bright Italian soul that even now rests with the angels and no
doubt observes our curious plight!” Nathan exclaimed, with an
excited glance at Sybil. “Girl, this is a thought invention worthy
of Da Vinci himself!”

“In other words, you suggest, my sweet boy,”
Amaryllis said, “that I treat the lantern as if it were a
mechanical device, or better yet, an instrument of dulcet music,
and
play
it with my fingers to increase or decrease the
amount of light?”

“Not I, but this fine girl with very red
hair and a marvelous philosophical grasp!”

“Well, I am afraid, such a virtuoso
shadowbox performance might be too much even for me.” And Amaryllis
offered the lantern to Sybil. “It is all yours, my dear. You’ve
conceived it, now you must call upon your own technique and bring
it to fruition. Quickly now, tell your nimble fingers to start
playing!”

And in the next moment they entered the
narrow tunnel.

Sybil grabbed the lantern, but then handed
it right back to Amaryllis the next second, for their boat sharply
dipped, and was sinking downward—while some of the girls let out
shrieks, “Less light! Less light!”—and the river started to fade,
quite in proportion to how much the stone walls of the tunnel lit
up in sudden pallor and iridescence. “I have an even better idea,
Ladyship,” she cried, “you hold it, and I will cover it up!”

Amaryllis received the lantern back, and
Sybil loosely closed her hands around it, so that the somewhat
diminished light streamed between her trembling fingers. It took
her just a few heartbeats to get the amount of light necessary to
keep the twilight at a sufficient level that it maintained the
river.

“Well, that was rather exciting,” Nathan
muttered, gripping the oars with white knuckled hands. “Indeed, are
you pleased now, Amaryllis? Are things entertaining enough now, or
has the ennui returned to plague you?”

“Oh, sweet Mother o’ God an’ the
angels . . .” Catrine muttered under her breath. “I
just about crapped my guts!”

But the lady had no time to answer, since
the walls of the tunnel widened around them, and they were now
passing through another cavern-like bubble formation underground,
with a lofty fathomless ceiling and endless dripstone rocks rising
and falling from the sky in icicles.

Once more the river started to fade, and
this time everyone cried, “More light!”

Sybil took her fingers away and the lantern
shone its full light upon the wide lake-like expanse of the water
around them.

“Another thing occurs to me,” Amaryllis
said. “We have no notion where this river goes, or how far. We are
merely floating aimlessly along, in hopes of coming upon something,
an opening above ground, or any blessed way out. But—what if there
are none? What if, indeed, this strange magical river floats
downward into the depths of the earth, straight to hell
itself?”

“Then, my sweet, we are going to be visiting
the devil very soon.”

“Fie, Nathan!”

“Well, what did you think might happen when
we embarked on this mad adventure?”

“Honestly, Nathan, I only try to think a
quarter of an hour ahead. Anything longer and things are always
unpleasant.”

“Sailing into the Underworld, and here we
are, bickering as always.”

They passed the widest place of the
underground formation and again a series of tunnels lay before
them, of varied width, with layers of rock upon rock, like stone
collar pleats folded into a royal fan. There was no other light
than the solitary lantern in Amaryllis’s hand, and yet there seemed
to be a radiance, a soft, silver phosphorescent light coming up
from the waters and reflecting off the cave walls.

“How fortunate that this river flows so
slowly, almost like a dream. Here, hold the lamp a while.” And
Amaryllis handed the lantern over to Sybil. The lady then placed
her fingers into the water over the side of the boat and drew the
tips lightly against the current, watching the tiny metallic sparks
and spray.

“Oh,” she said. “It is not at all cold as I
expected. Rather lukewarm actually, strangely so. Or maybe, neither
cool nor warm, but indifferent, like a
shadow. . . .”

“Well, I thought it was cold at first,”
Nathan remarked. “But you are right; it was not the ice cold of the
winter outside, despite the cold of the dungeon chamber.”

“Look in your bag of tricks, Catrine, and
hand me that other empty flask,” Amaryllis said.

Catrine fumbled in the satchel and pulled
out a small glass vial, then gave it to Lady Amaryllis.

“What are you going to do?” Nathan regarded
her with a moment of suspicion.

“I want to capture some of this water,”
Amaryllis replied. “Its impossible twilight nature bothers me, and
I must investigate it under better circumstances, once we get out
of here—for yes, for the next few moments I firmly choose to
believe we shall escape.” And saying this she unstoppered the flask
and dipped it in the current, then brought it up full of the same
clear silvery liquid.

Indeed, it was surprisingly clear in the
bottle, almost like normal water, Nathan thought. None of that dark
inky hue, or the metallic surface tint—that too had been illusion
also, born of play of light and depth and darkness.

However, as soon as the filled flask was
brought near the burning lantern, the water inside it
faded
and the bottle appeared empty. Amaryllis exhaled an “Ah” of
delight, then replaced the stopper, and put the flask into an inner
pocket of her cloak, watching the water bloom back into being as it
was moved away from the light.

Just in time—for they had entered another
narrow tunnel and the use of four hands was required to “play” the
lantern and keep the river in the physical plane.

 

A
t least two hours
passed, of dreamlike sailing through soft currents all around, and
constantly changing caves and niches and tunnels of variegated
stone.

The girls spent the first hour staring at
all things around them in constant heightened wonder. But by the
second hour, everyone started nodding off.

Eventually, maybe it was but another
illusion, but indeed the stately current grew even more slow and
sluggish. Nathan barely had to row, only moved the oars gently to
keep them away from the rocks on the sides, mostly letting the
river carry them along.

They emerged from yet another narrow tunnel
into a larger cavern hall. Here, Sybil took her fingers off the
lantern to give twilight its full power, and then they were all
faced with the strange sight of a panoramic shore up to which the
river waters lapped and then simply
ended
.

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