Ice Forged (The Ascendant Kingdoms Saga) (47 page)

Minutes dragged by as they waited in silence. Blaine fidgeted, disliking the feel of the cobwebs that traced ghostly fingers across his face. In the distance, he could hear the shuffling of vermin. Verran swore under his breath, manipulating the balky lock with a jewel smith’s patience.

Piran cast a nervous glance over his shoulder. “We don’t know where these cellars go. I can hear things back there. We need to get out of here.”

“Scared of the dark, Pir?” Verran jibed without taking his eyes off the lock. “I thought Velant would have cured you of that.”

Piran answered with a long and creative curse that impugned both Verran’s mother’s honor and his family tree.

Verran clucked his tongue. “You used that one last week, Rowse. Gotta come up with some new curses if you want them to still sting a bit.”

“I’ll sting your hide if you don’t get moving,” Piran muttered.

Verran had just opened his mouth to respond when Piran
was suddenly yanked backward into the darkness of the corridor. A feral growl rumbled from the narrow tunnel walls, and they could hear the sound of clawed feet scrabbling against the stone floor. Piran’s scream echoed, rapidly growing more distant.

“Grab the torch,” Blaine yelled. “After him!”

“What’s going on?” Dawe called from the street.

“Something’s got Piran. Get down here!” Blaine shouted, drawing his sword. Without waiting, he and Connor plunged into the darkness.

“What do you think it was?” Connor’s voice seemed loud, even though he had nearly whispered.

“Could be anything,” Blaine replied. The torch illuminated the cellar passageway in front of them, but Blaine had no idea how many branching tunnels might connect. Castle Reach was an old city, long populated. He’d heard tell that a warren of old cellars, caverns, and aqueducts ran beneath the city, many of them long forgotten by any but thieves, vagrants, and vermin. “Piran!” Blaine shouted. “Where are you?”

“Down here!” Piran’s voice was ahead of them, but in the echoes of the brick and stone corridors, it was difficult to judge how far away he might be. Piran gave a cry, and they could hear the distant clang of steel against stone.

Blaine and Connor quickened their pace. Behind them, they heard more footsteps. “It’s us,” Dawe called softly. “We’re right behind you.”

A battle in these narrow tunnels would not go well,
Blaine thought. He’d drawn his sword in the large cellar, but the tunnel was barely wider than his shoulders, and its roof was low enough in places that his head brushed the ceiling. Fighting with swords in this space would be suicidal.

The tunnel widened. Blaine and Connor skidded to a stop in a vaulted cellar chamber. Blaine slowly turned from left to
right, letting the torchlight illuminate the dusty room. A groan sounded in front of them, in the deep shadows toward the far end of the cellar. Connor started forward, but Blaine put a hand on his arm and gave a warning shake of his head.

Dawe came up behind him, with Kestel a step farther back. Dawe’s crossbow was at the ready, and Kestel gripped daggers in both hands. That meant Verran had stuck with his task. Just as well; combat wasn’t Verran’s strong point.

Dawe and Kestel fanned out, one to the left and the other to the right, moving silently as spirits. Blaine and Connor chanced a few steps forward. A warning growl rumbled from the shadows, louder than before.

“Go!” Blaine shouted, beginning to run toward the sound. As he ran, the torch illuminated the back corner of the cellar. Something had obviously made its lair here for quite a while, judging from the bones and rags that littered the filthy floor. Then Blaine caught sight of Piran’s prone body, and a glimpse of two red eyes that shone with more than the light of his torch.

The thing behind Piran leaped forward. Blaine heard the twang of Dawe’s crossbow, felt the still air stir as the quarrel whizzed past him and thunked into the chest of the beast. It did not slow the attack. Blaine swung with his full might, while Connor braced himself, holding his sword two-handed like a pike for the thing to spit itself when it landed. Connor ducked, shielding his head even as he used his body to brace the sword in place.

With a wild growl, the beast twisted in midair, so that Connor’s sword caught it in the front shoulder and not full in the belly. Blaine hacked at the thing with enough force to kill a man, but the beast’s thick, rough fur fought against his blade. The torch cast a wavering light, but it showed enough to make Blaine’s blood run cold.

The thing that had attacked Piran was wolflike, but larger than any wolf Blaine had ever seen. It was closer to the size of a small horse, thickly muscled, with powerful haunches and a filthy, matted coat of coarse hair. Most of it was black as the shadows, with streaks of gray. The fur would make it difficult to reach vulnerable flesh below, though two of Dawe’s quarrels now stuck out from the creature’s hide.

The creature had a wide, blocky head with strong jaws. Powerful front feet ended in curled claws. Foam flecked its jaws, and the front of its chest was stained red with new blood. Piran’s. Enraged, Blaine gave a cry and lunged at it, with his sword held two-handed, shoulder height, aiming for the heart.

Two silver streaks twinkled in the firelight, then dug hilt-deep into the beast’s neck. Kestel’s daggers. As Blaine surged forward, Connor shifted his position and thrust his two-handed sword up and forward, anticipating the beast’s attempt to move out of Blaine’s way. Two more quarrels flew through the air, one catching the beast in the throat and the other lodging in its muzzle.

The beast gave a cry that was more chilling than a wolf’s howl, and its blood-red eyes glowed with rage. With surprising dexterity, it evaded Connor’s sword, twisting as Blaine sank his blade so that the tip slid along the rib cage instead of penetrating. With a cuff of its massive paw, it swept Connor out of the way and into a wall, his sword skittering in the opposite direction. Blaine tried to yank his blade free, but it was snarled in the beast’s matted fur. He was a breath too slow, stumbling wildly as the beast turned sharply, snapping its fangs just shy of Blaine’s shoulder.

“Over here!” Dawe shouted to distract the thing. A large rock cracked against the beast’s forehead, and it howled again, turning away from Blaine. Kestel had drawn another blade, but
she had also fallen back a few paces. A rock the size of a large apple smacked between the beast’s eyes, and the creature turned on her with fury.

“Get Piran!” Dawe shouted as he sent another quarrel toward the beast’s heart. Connor had regained his sword and scrambled to his feet.

Blaine sized up what he could see of the room in the flickering torchlight. Two more corridors branched from the chamber, leading into darkness. The beast could easily follow them. To Blaine’s dismay, Piran had not yet moved, and he was unarmed, no doubt having lost his blade somewhere down the corridor in the grip of the creature. Blaine would not be able to drag Piran to the exit without sacrificing his friends in the effort.

Dawe had drawn the creature’s attention, but it was advancing more quickly than he could reload. Kestel’s barrage of stones angered the beast but did not look likely to strike a killing blow. Blaine caught Connor’s eye and nodded. Together, they roared a battle cry and ran at the thing’s haunches, striking to disable it. Blaine went high, sinking his sword deep into the creature’s hip, while Connor dove low, slicing his blade across where the beast’s hamstrings should be.

The beast gave a maddened howl and reared back, cuffing Blaine and sending him sprawling. As he fell, he glimpsed movement in the shadows, and the dark shape of a man briefly silhouetted by the torchlight. Blaine hit the ground hard, and it knocked the breath out of him. Connor cried out in alarm as the beast went after him. Dawe and Kestel were quickly running out of ammunition, and Blaine doubted that Kestel had the speed to get close enough with her blade. Blaine shot a glance toward Piran. Piran had not moved, and Blaine spotted a dark stain that looked like blood on his shoulder.
We crossed
an ocean to die here
, Blaine thought, rallying the energy to reach his feet again.

Connor was doing his best to hold off the beast with his sword. Though dark blood ran from cuts on the thing’s forelegs, the blade did not strike deep enough to slow the creature. Kestel’s rocks pounded the beast’s head and shoulders. A direct hit slowed the beast, a glancing blow enraged it, but the creature showed no sign of tiring. Dawe sent another quarrel into the beast’s shoulder, and it screamed in rage.

Out of the corner of his eye, Blaine saw a dark blur. For a heartbeat, he thought it was a trick of the light; then the shadow moved nearly faster than sight could track. The beast reared up, howling in pain, and a dark-clad figure drove a wide blade deep between the thing’s ribs. The creature snapped at the attacker, who hung on to the sword’s grip with unnatural strength, even when the beast raked it with its long claws. Blaine expected the attacker to fall, but to his amazement, their new defender clung to the sword even as dark blood streamed from bone-deep gashes on its back.

With a wild bellow, the beast reared again. Its new assailant jerked the sword free, dodging the creature’s claws, and swung. The sword whistled through the air, coming down hard on the beast’s neck. Bone crunched under the two-handed swing, and then the blade was free, and the head rolled to one side while the beast tottered and collapsed.

In the faltering torchlight, Blaine caught a glimpse of their defender. A man clad in black, with equally dark hair that fell shoulder-length. Blaine expected him to collapse at any moment, given the damage he had taken from the creature, but instead, the man looked up, straight at Blaine. “Your friend is dying. I can help, but we need to get out of here now.”

Blaine scrambled to his feet, feeling the ache of new bruises
and strained muscles. “Who are you?” he asked, making his way as quickly as possible to where Piran lay. “And what was that thing?”

“That ‘thing’ was a barghest,” the man replied. “And I’m Geir, your guide.”

“Guide?” Dawe was standing again, and his crossbow was leveled at Geir’s chest. “Who says we need a guide?” Kestel had recovered both of her knives and stood next to Dawe.

One side of Geir’s mouth twitched in a sardonic half smile. “Why don’t you ask Connor?”

“Do you know him, Connor?” Kestel asked, a dangerous edge of suspicion in her voice.

A muscle twitched in Connor’s jaw, as if he were angrily clenching his teeth. “Yes. He’s one of Penhallow’s.”

Geir smiled. “Your blood called me. Our master knew you had returned to Donderath as soon as you set foot on shore. He’s anxious to see you—and your companions.”

Blaine knelt next to Piran. Piran was breathing, but his breath was coming fast and shallow, and blood soaked his shoulder. Gently, Blaine pushed back the torn remnant of Piran’s shirt to see the damage. He grimaced. The barghest’s fangs had left deep puncture wounds and an open gash. Piran groaned but did not open his eyes.

“Can you save him?” Blaine looked back to meet Geir’s gaze.

“If we hurry.”

Blaine glanced to Dawe. “Get Verran.”

“I’m here.” Verran’s voice sounded behind them. He was carrying a sack that bulged and rattled.

“And go where?” Kestel challenged.

“Somewhere much safer than here, unless you like the wildlife,” Geir replied.

Blaine used bits of Piran’s torn shirt and jacket to bandage
his wound. It slowed the flow of blood, but would to nothing to stave off infection. Blaine glanced at Dawe. “Come on. Piran’s a heavy bastard. It’ll take both of us to move him.”

Geir sheathed his sword and crossed the room before Dawe could move. In one fluid motion he bent to pick up Piran, lifting him into his arms as if Piran were a child. “We’d best get moving, if you want to save your friend.”

Dawe retrieved the torch and came up beside Blaine as they followed Geir. “This could be a trap,” he murmured.

Blaine glared at Connor. “Maybe it already was.”

“And you’re just going along with it?”

Blaine shrugged. “What choice do we have? Piran needs a healer. What are the chances we can find one in time to help?”

“How do we know this guy isn’t just hungry? Maybe Geir set the barghest on us.”

“No one controls a barghest,” Geir said from the front of the small party. “Not even the
talishte
.” He paused. “And as for your other question, I’ve fed well already.”

“How were you able to kill the barghest?” Dawe asked. “We weren’t having any luck.”

“Iron blade,” Geir replied in a tone that suggested it was common knowledge. “The iron itself is poison to some beings.”

“Where exactly are we going?” Blaine asked.

“Somewhere safe,” Geir replied. “Unless you’d rather blunder around in the tunnels. There are all kinds of scavengers—human and otherwise—since the Great Fire. Can’t guarantee your welcome.”

“And what kind of guarantee can you make us where we’re going?” Blaine asked.

“The protection of my master, Lanyon Penhallow. Our quarters are not as comfortable as they once were, but your party will not be harmed. You have Lord Penhallow’s word.”

Blaine did not voice his thoughts about the value of a lord’s word. Instead, he tried to keep up with the brisk pace Geir set. The total darkness did not seem to bother Geir, but even with the torch, the others struggled to make their way through the rubble and debris that littered the tunnel floors.

“We’re going deeper into the tunnels than I’ve ever been before,” Verran murmured.

“You’ve been down here before?” Blaine asked.

“A time or two, to stay out of reach of the guards,” Verran replied offhandedly. “In the old days, the upper cellars were a second city, full of illegal whiskey, games of chance, shady ladies, and peddlers selling just about everything.”

“A thieves’ paradise,” Blaine murmured.

“That it was.” Verran sighed. “We kept the guards paid off in coin, women, and whiskey, and they left us alone.”

“How about the rest of these tunnels? Where do they go?” Dawe asked.

“Don’t rightly know. There’s an old aqueduct system under the city, been here since the Illoran Conquest. A lot of the buildings have cellars that connect, too. Deeper down, they say there are caves. Wouldn’t surprise me. Lots of caves under Donderath,” Verran said. “No one I knew ever needed to go beyond the upper cellars, but I heard tell about the low places.”