Lodestone Book One: The Sea of Storms (36 page)

“Indeed it has, Lord Saccath.
Your duties carry you far from Chalimar, I see.” Saccath was clad
in simple serge coat and black trousers such as a trader might
wear. Clearly this was not an “official” visit. He did not wish to
be identified as Keltar.

“I am actually on something of a
private mission,” Saccath confided. “Did you encounter the fugitive
band?”

Mevan nodded. “They arrived here,
just as you predicted. They had a Chandara with them, of all
things. I attempted to turn them away with a view to encountering
them later on the road, where there would be no witnesses.
Unfortunately, that fool Ernan intervened. He gave them shelter and
supplies and conducted them personally to the Fire
Pits.”

Saccath leaned forward. “They
went down into the Pits?”

“It is true, I swear.”

Saccath put his hand to his chin,
deep in thought. The cragginess of his face appeared exaggerated by
light and shadow. Finally, Mevan broke in. “I’m sorry; there was no
opportunity for me and my men to intercept them.”

Saccath roused himself from his
deliberations. “Do not concern yourself. They will be taken care
of.”

“You are not going down into the
Pits after them, surely?” Mevan protested. “I lost my own brother
to the Pits. They are too dangerous for any right-minded
person.”

Saccath smiled thinly. “Your
concern for me is touching, Mevan, but I assure you that I have no
intention of chasing them all the way down there. There is no need.
I am quite sure that the denizens of Kharthrun will deal with the
insurgents most effectively. And in the unlikely event that any of
them do survive to reach Sakara, I will be arriving there to ensure
that that is the end of their journey.”

Saccath stood up. “Once again,
your loyalty and service to the Prophet’s cause have proven
valuable. I think that the village of Pinnar would benefit from a
new headman, someone with the vision and commitment to secure the
peaceful cooperation of the people. I will speak to the authorities
at the keep upon my return.”

Mevan got to his feet and bowed
low. “I appreciate your faith in me, sire.” As he watched Saccath
turn to leave, he permitted himself a smile of grim
satisfaction.

Chapter
23

The Fire Pits insinuated
themselves on Shann’s senses like an all-enveloping beast with
sinews of smoke and steam. Sulphur and soot stung her eyes, invaded
her nostrils and left her with a foul taste in her
mouth.

They were roped together once
more–a safeguard against the hazards of the Pits, Lyall had
explained. The farther they travelled into the depths of Kharthrun,
the more she could see the wisdom of that precaution. It seemed as
if every step were fraught with potential danger.

In places, the ground over which
they walked was little more than a thin crust of hard white residue
that crunched beneath her boots. There was no way to tell how
thick–or how thin–the crust was. One good reason for the
ropes.

They passed along trails between
pools of boiling mud in shades of pink and orange. Shann watched in
fascination as the mud slowly bubbled and popped, like an overly
thick soup. Lyall placed a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t get too
close, Shann.” She nodded and they resumed their passage through
this chimerical world.

Plumes of steam emanated from
conical vents or fractures in the ground, drifting over the
landscape like fog. Every now and then, jets of boiling water were
ejected into the air from raised pools, only to die back moments
later to form a bubbling, angry cauldron. It was both spectacular
and frightening at the same time.

Columns of basalt rose up from
the canyon floor, forming winding gaps and small twisting valleys
to confound their path. Shann quickly found that after she had been
turned around several times in this way, she had had no idea in
which direction they were headed. It was Keris who kept them on
track both by continually checking the directional lodestone she
carried and by using the flying cloak to determine their bearings.
After the incident two days ago, when Shann had forced the
confession out of her, Keris’ position within the group had
changed. Now she was out in front, leading the way, her detached
arrogance replaced by settled assurance as she consulted her
lodestone device and pointed confidently. “This way.” Shann was
reluctantly forced to admit that without her direction, they would
probably end up totally lost, condemned to wander endlessly in the
ever-shifting clouds of steam. Clearly, Ernan had not been
exaggerating when he said that most of those who ventured into this
place never made it out again.

They were
skirting an emerald green thermal pool, edged by shades of yellow
and red, when Shann saw a movement out of the corner of her eye–a
dark shape slipping through the water.
A
fish?
She stopped without warning, pulling
Lyall to a halt on the tether, and almost causing Alondo to bump
into her.

Lyall walked back to her
position. “What’s up?”

“Look,” Shann pointed into the
water. She could now see sleek shapes of various sizes, all covered
by what looked like thick scales. Thin wisps of steam were drifting
over the glassy surface. “How do they survive in there with the
water near to boiling? They would cook, surely.”

By this time Keris had doubled
back to investigate the disturbance. She followed their eyes.
“Fish–so what?”

“What kind are they?” Lyall
asked.

“I don’t know. I’m not a fish
expert–why, are you hungry?”

“No, it’s just–” Shann
began.

“Then let’s move on, shall we?”
Keris strode off without waiting for anyone’s agreement.

“I was just curious,” Shann
protested.

Lyall offered her a smile by way
of compensation. “Don’t worry about it, Shann; although she does
have a point. Out here, curiosity can be fatal.”

As their journey across the vast
canyon floor continued, Shann saw other creatures, the likes of
which she had never seen before. The fact that anything could
survive in these conditions, let alone thrive, was a testament to
the adaptability and tenacity of life.

There was a black thing that
looked like a snake with both ends joined up, flexing its way over
the ground in the shape of a figure eight.

A little farther on, a
balloon-shaped creature an arm’s length in diameter floated lazily
over a thermal vent. It was dull orange in colour with black
mottling. As it rotated, Shann counted four evenly spaced eyes,
although she could not see a mouth. It looked like a much larger
version of the foul smelling ball she had encountered in the
Gilah.

Shann could not resist. She ran
forward and tapped Lyall on the shoulder. “What is it?”

“I think it’s a variety of
maralah,” Lyall speculated, “although I confess I have never seen
one anything like that size before. Maybe they are suited to the
heat of the Pits?” Shann kept her eyes fixed on the balloon as they
passed. It bobbed up and down over the vent and continued turning
slowly, oblivious to their presence.

Eventually, they reached a level
rock platform. “The suns will be setting soon,” Lyall observed. “I
think we should make camp here.”

Shann untied herself from the
rope and gratefully flopped down where she was.

Keris held out the lodestone
device in her outstretched hand and turned slowly, checking her
observations. “We are making good time,” she announced, “better
than I hoped. We should reach the eastern rim as early as tomorrow.
There is an easier route out of the Pits on that side.”

Shann sat back with her hands
splayed against the rock and examined her surroundings. The flat
rock was bounded on one side by a natural terrace of chalky white
stone. In front of it, there was what looked like a deep depression
in the ground. Shann got up and walked closer to get a better look.
It was a large hole, a fissure which disappeared into the ground.
She peered over the edge but could not see the bottom. The
fuliginous interior seemed to draw her in.

She heard Lyall’s voice behind
her. “Don’t get too close.”

Shann tore her
eyes away and turned to rejoin the others. Keris was standing next
to Lyall. She still wore the ebon tunic, trousers and flying cloak
of a Keltar.
You look the
part
. As Shann approached, she heard the
woman make a curt remark before turning on her heel. Shann glared
at Keris’ receding back for a moment and then made eye contact with
Lyall.

He raised one eyebrow. “You two
are going to have to learn to get on, you know.”

Shann made a sound in her throat.
“She doesn’t get on with anyone. I can’t believe you swallowed her
story like a piece of rotten raleketh meat.”

“I didn’t ‘swallow’ it, Shann. I
told you: I merely gave her a second chance.”

“You think she
deserves a second chance? What about all the things she did when
she was a Keltar? Have you asked her how many people she
killed?”
Or how many parents she ripped
away from their children?

“That’s not
fair, Shann.”
No. Leaving someone without
their parents; not knowing if they are alive or dead –that’s not
fair.
Lyall smiled.
“You and Keris are like two pieces of refined lodestone,
repelling each other, yet unwilling to admit how similar you
are.”

“I am
nothing
like
her,”
Shann
fired
back.

Lyall exhaled slowly. “You and
she are both on a journey–not the act of putting one foot in front
of another, but a journey of a different sort. You have always
thought of yourself as weak. Yet with all that has happened over
the past few days, you have discovered that you have strengths you
never knew you had. You have fought sand scarags, escaped from a
slave camp and ridden down a cliff. You are not the same person who
left Corte.”

Shann’s brow furrowed. “I
suppose.”

“Keris is very strong mentally
and physically, but she has discovered that she has weaknesses she
didn’t know she had. She too is on a journey. She too is not the
same person as she was. And just as you need help to come to terms
with your new strengths, she needs help to deal with her
weaknesses.”

Shann smiled in spite of herself.
“I think you’ve been spending too much time with Boxx. You’re
starting to sound like it.”

He laughed. “I take that as a
compliment.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Want to get something
to eat?” They both walked over to where Boxx was lying down and
Keris was examining her staff. Shann noticed that whenever they
stopped, the woman always seemed to check her equipment. She was
almost pathological about it. Shann looked around for Alondo but
could not see him. Then she saw him climbing the terrace. Lyall
spotted him at the same moment and put a hand to his mouth. “Don’t
go too far.” Alondo waved to them by way of response.

All of a
sudden, Shann felt a low vibration. At first it was almost
subliminal, causing her to conclude that she must be imagining it.
Then it rapidly grew in intensity.
Ground
tremor?
She saw Keris get to her feet,
knees bent, eyes casting about wildly for the source.

The ground
shook under them as a massive shape broke the surface of the
fissure and reared up over their heads. An ear splitting roar shook
the air. A living grey nightmare of scale, tooth and claw. Piercing
red rimmed eyes. Neck frills flared. Flattened head split by an
immense jaw which snapped at everything that moved.
The Khathrun Serpent.

The towering
titan twisted with terrifying agility, massive maw darting towards
the terraced area. Shann felt as if her legs were rooted to the
spot. A small voice somewhere in the back of her mind was
clamouring, screaming for attention.
Alondo
. Cut off from the other side
of the fissure. She could not see him. The serpent drew back for a
further strike and she spotted him.
Knocked down. On his back. Hands scrabbling against the rock
behind him, desperately trying to get away.

Lyall was
yelling at him,
“Use the vortex
arm.”
Shann could not tell whether Alondo
heard him or not, but he brought his instrument to bear, fumbled an
adjustment and struck the strings. A powerful torus rippled
outwards and struck the gargantuan beast, knocking it backwards
slightly. It split the air again with a primeval bellow of pure
hatred.

“That won’t hold it,” Keris
warned.

Lyall’s gaze
was still fixed on the creature. “No, but it might buy us some
time.” He grabbed Shann by the arm. “The flying cloaks.” They ran
back to where they had dropped their packs. Shann pulled out the
cloak, shaking it free, and fastened the neck clasps. Her mind
reeled.
What can we do against that
thing?

Boxx had rolled
itself up–a segmented ball of impenetrable chitin.
At least you are safe
.