Lady of the Star Wind (18 page)

At first he couldn’t make out a thing, but the longer he stared, Mark began to see two silhouettes in the moonlight—man and a woman. The woman was seated, the man’s hand on her shoulder. He moved closer. “Like a sketch, as if the artist was beginning a commission when the disaster struck.”

She reached out and brushed the wall with her fingertips. “If only he’d drawn the faces. I want to know, to see—”

“I don’t think we’re meant to.”

Ignoring him, Sandy moved farther along the wall, shining her lamp at the next figure that stood behind the man. “This one doesn’t seem human. A local god maybe?”

Mark studied the faded outline. “Definitely reptilian. Unfinished like the others. No one said all the Travelers were human. Lajollae sure wasn’t.”

“Oh, surely you don’t think alien beings walked the streets here?”

A loud shout from outside interrupted their discussion.

“Time to go, I guess.” Mark took her by the elbow and guided her out of the room. “Hope Rothan and Tia found what they traveled here for.”

“The two of them and their allies have gone to a lot of trouble,” Sandy said.

“Hard to believe this crown is going to make a difference in the political situation.” Mark was curious to see what Sandy’s opinion might be.

“I don’t know.” She shook her head. “Sometimes symbols have a lot of power to influence the people. Depends on many factors.”

“Depends on this person we’ve never met, this prince of theirs, Tia’s brother. He’s the unknown quantity.”

“We don’t know enough about any of it to say for sure.” Before mounting her horse, Sandy took a lingering look at the ruins of the dwelling. “So frustrating. I think we might find some real answers in there if we had time to sift through the one room full of stuff.”

“Which Jagrahim won’t let us do.” Mark heard another yell from the general direction of the main street. “We’d better rejoin the others.”

When he and Sandy walked their horses toward the sound of the shouts, Djed came running along the street alone. Short of breath, agitated, and upset, the archer saluted Mark. “You must come at once, my lord.”

“What’s up? Did Rothan find the crown and whatever it is?”
 

“Scepter.” Djed corrected him. “No, my lord. The Mikkonite led us to a complex of buildings, part of a palace, half fallen into the sea. Jagrahim told Rothan what he seeks is in a room drowned under water at high tide. Once the tide withdrew from the ruins, my captain went to retrieve the treasures but hasn’t given us any sign as to how he fares. Jagrahim says he can’t help or hinder. He and his people are allowed by ancient treaty to act as guides only, on penalty of death. I’m afraid for Rothan—what if he’s gotten trapped in the ruins? The waters will come in, and he’ll drown.”

“Does he swim? Do you?”

“Swim? You mean like a fish of the deep?” The mere idea apparently astounded Djed. “No, nor do any of my archers. You haven’t seen the creatures swimming the waters. Legend says one of Khunarum’s own daughters was tipped from her pleasure boat and killed by the fanged hunters in the river. When even a boat isn’t safe, no sane man risks himself naked in the waters.”

Sandy pulled her horse away from grazing on nearby brush. “Sounds like we’d better stop wasting time.”

“Right.” Mark held out a hand to Djed.
 

The archer backed away, shaking his head. “I’ll run beside your horse.”

“Suit yourself. Let’s go.”

A few moments later, the road ended at the edge of the harbor. The Mikkonite were clustered beside the chariots and the other horses. The men were playing a game of chance, while Jagrahim and his daughter chatted off to the side. Tia and the rest of the archers were close to the edge of the muddy tidal flats, gazing at the ruins revealed by the low tide.

Mark brought his horse to a halt, stood in the stirrups, and reconnoitered. The pavement ended at the cliff edge. There were parts of enormous buildings and immense statues, broken rotting ships, and unidentifiable rubble protruding from the wet sand below as far as he could see, all the way to the horizon. Slimy, dripping, green and brown seaweed festooned the ruins like glistening carpet. Another long fragment of the road stood about thirty feet from the base of the cliff, leading to a cluster of ruins perched crookedly on a small rise, as if the seas had tried to remove them and tired of the task. The blue and green ocean gleamed in the soft predawn light, waves breaking in the distance. The sets broke closer each time.

Mark dismounted. “Where’s Rothan?”

“He’s gone to what remains of the inner palace of Khunarum.” Jagrahim pointed with his chin at the cantilevered ruins way out in the harbor. “The crown and the scepter were left there, in the vaults below the throne room.”

“Below?” Mark leaned cautiously over the cliff’s edge, gauging the high-tide mark on the rocks below, and then straightened to assess the advancing ocean. “How long till high tide?”

“The tides run on six-hour cycles, my lord. We began this venture at low tide.”

“So we have some time but not much. All right, I’ll go out there and see what’s keeping him.”

“I’m coming too,” Djed said. “You may need help if he’s trapped.” He addressed Tia. “With your permission, my lady.”

She waved one hand in consent. “Rothan insisted this task was his alone, but now I’m afraid for him. Surely it can’t offend the gods of this place for you to go to his aid.”

“Be careful.” Sandy dismounted and came to Mark’s side, staring at the ruins. “I don’t like this at all.”

“We’ll be fine, I promise. I swim like a fish, learned at the academy.” Mark kissed her cheek, breathing in her sweet scent. “Come on, Djed, let’s get going.”

The two men rappelled down the cliff, using ropes Rothan had affixed earlier for his own descent. As soon as he reached the ground, Mark yelled for the Mikkonite to toss him another coil of rope.

He checked the charge in his blaster, shouldered the new rope, and marched off, the archer on his heels.

The muck and wet sand made for torturously slow going, but as soon as he got onto the road, broken and disrupted as the pavement was, Mark quickened the pace. The slippery surface was strewn with seaweed, but it provided better footing than the muck. Exhilarated by the smell of fresh salt air, he filled his lungs without irritating them the way the dead air in the city itself had done. Mark drew in a second deep breath.

“We have any idea where we are going once we reach that pile?” he asked Djed.

The archer shook his head. “My captain had instructions from the ancient scrolls. I believe he knew what he had to do, but I’m not sure. It was his task alone, he said.”

“Fortunately, we can follow his tracks.” Mark pointed to where the seaweed had been trampled or disturbed.

When he reached the pile of ruins, Mark waved to the watching party on shore, and then he and Djed scrambled into the tumbled blocks of what had once been a massive building. He proceeded with caution, reminding his companion to do the same. “Must have been some hellacious earthquake to raise parts of the harbor and sink others—the land here moved a good thirty feet in spots.” He pointed at the broken escarpments and heard Djed gasp at his estimate of the earth’s raw power. “Here are Rothan’s footprints, going down these stairs.”

The two men descended what had been a broad stairway in the distant past, now choked with huge pieces of masonry and broken statues. Barely enough clearance existed for a man to pass between some of the chunks of debris. At the bottom, Mark faced the dark entrance to a corridor extending under the building. When he shone his handlamp into the cavernous opening, he realized the tunnel descended at a gradual slope.

“I’m not crazy about this.” Mark cupped his hand beside his mouth, leaned into the corridor, and yelled, “Rothan!”

He received no reply, only the odd and distant echo of his voice. Mark’s instincts pushed him to find Rothan in the shortest possible amount of time.The tunnel remained in passable condition, although the walls were covered with seaweed, barnacles, and slime. The ceiling dripped, and there were numerous puddles. “Must flood to the top at high tide.” He aimed his light at the tiled ceiling. “We have to be out of here well before then.”

“Indeed,” Djed said with a nervous glance at his surroundings.

After a few moments of walking, Mark came to a spot where the walls had fallen in somewhat. He poked his light through the narrow opening. “Gets better ahead but not much. I’ll go first, and then you can hand me the torch and follow.”

The tunnel was quiet, only the constant
plink plink
of dripping water and the sound of their own footsteps. The two men passed more piles of rubble. The passageway kept going downward, the angle of descent becoming steeper.

“We’ll be in the Underworld at this rate.” Djed clutched at his amulet of brown and green beads.

“Whoever the builders were, they understood how to construct for the ages. This place endured pretty well over the centuries. Hello, what’s this?”

He stood at the top of a flight of stairs leading into the depths of the ruins.

“Rothan rigged a rope for a handrail.” Mark grabbed at the strand and tugged. “One good sign.”

Djed swallowed hard and began his descent on Mark’s heels.

About halfway down, Mark paused, raising a hand to signal Djed to stop. “Did you hear something? There it is again!”

A faint yell repeated from the inky dark below. The two men exchanged glances. Mark drew his blaster and moved out, taking extra care on the slimy steps. The stairs ended with no warning, leaving him balanced on the narrow edge of a glowing azure pool. There was no way to gauge how deep the water might be. Mark raised his torch and peered across the obstacle while both men called out for their missing comrade.

“Over here,” came the reply, a weak voice from the right.

Mark swung the lamp in the proper direction. Rothan sat on a ledge about a yard above the water level, sword balanced across his knees, left leg bleeding sluggishly. An odd slash cut across his left cheek.
 

“What the hell happened?” Mark said.

“There’s some creature in the depths,” Rothan answered in a low voice. “Extinguish the torches, quick. The hell spawn is drawn to light.”

Too late.

A large aquatic creature came from the bottom of the pool in a sudden surge of cold water. Mark and Djed went reeling as a wave broke around them. The beast flailed with heavy black tentacles, knocking the already off-balance archer into the water. Cursing, Mark blasted the two sinewy, suckered arms coming at him. A third tentacle wrapped around his ankle, tugged him off the ledge and into the water. He lost the lamp, which flew from his grasp as his elbow struck the step with bone-bruising force, but he kept a death grip on the blaster as he was submerged. The creature dragged him deep before releasing its grip momentarily, only to clutch Mark again, suckers sliding off the impenetrable fabric of his offworld fatigue pants. While the beast was stymied by his clothing, Mark managed to fight to the surface for one huge, desperate breath. As the animal hauled him under for the second time, he fired a tight pattern of blasts into the water where he hoped the main body was located. The tentacles tightened unbearably for a second before the creature convulsed. Tentacles drifted aimlessly now, the beast sinking into the murk. Mark kicked completely loose of one lingering ropy fragment curled around his ankle and shot to the surface, floating there for a second, gasping for air.
 

He stowed his weapon, took a deep breath, and dove, trying to locate Djed, who hadn’t surfaced. Cloth brushed past his fingertips, and he surfaced with a mighty effort, dragging the dead weight of the archer with him. Mark managed to get himself and Djed onto the lowest stair. Rolling the unconscious man onto his back, Mark worked to resuscitate him. The hand torch had come to rest against the stair and provided light for the effort.

Sputtering, Djed convulsed, retching copious quantities of water. After the spasms stopped, he wiped his mouth and clutched at his legs, nearly toppling into the water. “I can’t feel my left leg!”

Mark played the torch over Djed’s extremities, finding an even pattern of oozing gashes running the entire length of his leg from ankle to hip. “Creature must have claws mixed in with the suckers.”

“The numbness goes away,” Rothan said. “I was ensnared in the same fashion as I swam across the pool. I stabbed it in the eye with my dagger, and it released me. I got to this ledge but couldn’t go forward or retreat to find an alternate route. The creature lurked in the water. It couldn’t find me with the torch extinguished.”

“Is there only one?” While he talked, Mark made quick work of bandaging the archer’s leg with rags torn from his borrowed Mikkonite robes. He tried to shield the light with his body, preventing stray beams from falling on the tide pool beside him.

“I only saw one. I heard you coming and tried to warn you.”

“Don’t worry, I believe you. The echoes are funny in here.” Mark tied off the bandages with a quick knot and clapped Djed on the shoulder. “Can you stand?”

“I think so.”

“Then I’m sending you to report.” Mark held up a hand to forestall the archer’s immediate protest. “You can’t swim, remember? I can tow you across this pool, but like as not, we aren’t going to get out of this pile of rubble here before the tide turns. I can’t take a chance with a total nonswimmer. Also, I want Tia and the others to have some status. They need to know we’re in one piece. You can tell them Rothan and I are moving onward. I don’t want anyone else coming in here, risking their necks. I’ll get him off the ledge, and we’ll get to the other side of this damn sinkhole.”