Lodestone Book One: The Sea of Storms (38 page)

“She’s fine.” It was a lie, but
the truth was an added burden he didn’t need right now.

Boxx stood up on its hind legs
and faced Keris. “Alondo Must Sleep. Alondo Must Heal.”

Keris nodded at the Chandara and
stood up. “How long?”

“Alondo Must Heal,” it
repeated.

Keris took the
hint and left. She had not discounted the possibility that if the
creature attacked again, they might be forced to try to move
Alondo, despite Boxx’s protestations. Or they might have to abandon
him altogether. These were decisions she would really rather not
have to make.
I never wanted
this.

She sat hunched
in the flying cloak, burdens weighing on her shoulders like great
black birds. Mists drifted over the flat ground. With an effort,
she got to her feet and went to her pack. As soon as she opened it,
she knew something was wrong. The small oil lamp she carried–it was
gone. She rummaged around in the pack. There was no mistake. A wild
thought occurred to her. She hurried over to the place where Shann
slept. The blanket lay empty and discarded. The girl was gone. So
were Lyall’s weapon and the pieces of her broken staff. Keris’
heart sank.
You’ve gone after him. You
brave, stupid girl.

~

Using the
blades of her broken staff as pitons, Shann eased herself down the
steep sides of the fissure. Her boots sought toe holds in the rock
face. She regretted leaving Alondo, but right now, Boxx could do
far more for him than she could.
Besides,
he would want me to do this. He would want me to save
Lyall.

It was up to
her. Keris was not going to do anything; in fact it probably suited
her purpose to assume that Lyall was dead. That way, she could take
charge by default.
Not while I’m still
alive.

How far this
chasm went down, she did not know. The passage was curved slightly,
so that light from the entrance above was gradually occluded. Soon,
she found she was descending in a gathering crimson dusk. The
thought of returning to the surface occurred to her briefly but she
dismissed it just as quickly.
He needs
me.

Shann drove the diamond blades
into any available crack or crevice. It was getting difficult to
see. Her progress was slower now, as she made her way as much by
touch as by sight. Her left side still grumbled from the injury
sustained in the battle with the serpent. She gritted her teeth and
ignored it. The volcanic heat was becoming oppressive, a steady
updraft which washed past her like an exhalation. Beads of sweat
began to roll down the side of her face and into her eyes. The
odour of sulphur was becoming more persistent. She coughed
once…twice. Her head was growing dizzy. Her left boot quested for a
hold and found an irregularity. Her toe pressed home, and then
slipped. Her sudden weight pulled one of her makeshift pitons free
and she was falling backwards. Hot air rushed around and past her
body. At last she struck solid ground and her tortured side gave
one final angry cry of protest before everything went
black.

~

The dark haired waif
sat in the older woman’s lap and sniffled. The older woman stroked
her hair and the little girl grew quiet. The kitchen at the inn was
warm and homely. The silver haired woman smelled of dough and
spices.

A portly man in a
blue apron stood over them both. His tail swished from side to
side. “Shann–Shann, why did you worry us like that?”

The silver haired
woman spoke on her behalf. “She fell out of a tree, Poltann, but
she’s all right now–aren’t you?” Shann nodded, too choked yet to
speak.

“The girl has no
business climbing trees. It’s enough that we have the
responsibility of caring for her, Gallar. If her father were
here–”

“Poltann…” Gallar
rebuked him. “Shann has learned her lesson. She will not go
climbing trees on her own again– will you?” Shann blinked away the
tears and shook her head. Her short, unkempt hair framed an elfin
face.

Poltann shook his
head. “Look at her; there’s nothing of her. She is small and weak
for her age. I suppose we may be able to put her to work in the
kitchen, but I really don’t know what she will be good
for.”

“Shann will do her
best, won’t you?” Gallar soothed. The elfin face nodded once
more.

Poltann ran his hand
over his bald head, smoothing down hair that had long since
departed. “The girl has to learn that she is frail, and that she
can’t just go climbing trees. One day she’ll attempt something like
that and there won’t be anyone there to rescue her. She has to
accept that there are some things that she simply cannot
do.”

Shann gradually
came to, with Poltann’s words from all those years ago ringing in
her ears.
“There are some things you
simply cannot do.” No–I won’t accept that.
Her head felt muzzy and her hand went up to feel a lump on
her forehead. Her side still hurt, but no worse than before. She
must have been nearly at the bottom when she lost her footing and
fell. Shann sat up. The wide shaft stretched away above her. The
area around her was a faint circle, surrounded by darkness.
The lamp
. She found it
and fumbled with the tinderbox. Yellow light erupted and pushed
back the gloom. She was in a large cavern. Her breathing was
laboured. The air was hot and tinged with sulphur. And there were
sounds. Distant. Indistinct. Ominous. The beast could return at any
moment. She got to her feet gingerly, holding the lamp aloft. The
broken pieces of her staff lay nearby on the ground. She gathered
them up and then began to explore her
surroundings.

The rock floor was surprisingly
smooth. She walked in what she judged to be a straight line. Soon
the gradient began to incline upwards and she found herself facing
a wall. Using the diamond blade on one of the broken pieces of her
staff, she carved three intersecting circles into the rock–the Sign
of The Three. Shann had never been particularly religious,
especially having witnessed firsthand how the Kelanni faith had
been corrupted under the Prophet’s influence. However, she needed a
mark that would be easily recognisable by her or any one of the
others who might decide to come after her and that was the only
sign she could think of. Her effort was crude, but
effective.

Turning to her
left, she followed the wall. Suddenly the wall disappeared into a
dark recess–a passageway leading off from the chamber. Shann
scrutinised the entrance.
Too
small
. The serpent could not have passed
that way. She continued on, moving along the wall, mapping out the
cavern in her mind until she was back at the Sign of The Three, her
starting point. There were five exits from the cave. Two of them
would not have been large enough to allow the creature passage.
That left three possible routes. Shann picked one at random and
etched another Sign of The Three into the even rock face before
heading away from the chamber.

It occurred to
her that this subterranean maze could go on endlessly, but she had
no choice but to press on. She followed the tunnel, lamplight
reflecting back from the walls. After a short while, the walls
began to narrow and the ceiling became lower.
Not this way.

She doubled back to the large
chamber and vigorously scrubbed out the mark she had made. Locating
a second possible route, Shann made another mark and moved
cautiously into the open passage. A steady current of warm air
flowed past her. The lamp guttered. She turned the wick up a
fraction before moving forward again. The gradient began to slope
gently downwards. After a while, a large shadow on the right wall
revealed an adjoining tube. The flow of air was still coming from
directly ahead. Shann decided to ignore the side passage and
continue on.

The way
continued straight. Then her mind registered something odd–an
irregularity in the floor. She had almost stepped into it. Shann
stopped and leaned forward, rubbing the perspiration from her eyes
with the back of her hand. A depression in the ground in front of
her was filled with an orange-yellow glow, framed by a web of dark
cracks.
A lava pool
. There was a ledge near the wall to one side, barely wide
enough for her feet. Carefully she moved around the pool and tested
the ledge with one boot. Slowly she began edging sideways along the
rim. Heat rose from the molten rock within the pool, disturbing the
surface so that it seemed to breathe like a living thing. A few
more sidesteps and she was on the other side. She took a deep
breath and resumed her progress.

After a short
distance, the tube opened out into another sizeable chamber. She
held the lamp aloft and peeked cautiously inside. The soft yellow
illumination fell onto a huge shape within. The shape moved, scales
scraping against bare rock.
The Kharthrun
Serpent.
Panic rose momentarily in her
breast. She extinguished the lamp, stepped back into the darkness
and began to think. There was no safe way past the leviathan. More
than that, she could not stay here. She had seen the speed at which
it moved. If it came this way again, she would be crushed or
worse.
The side tunnel
.

Shann retreated
back down the passage, squeezing past the lava pool as quickly as
she dared, and ducked back into the adjoining passage. She hunkered
down and strained her ears to hear.
A low
growling sound
.
It was coming from behind her
. She
spun round. Half a dozen pairs of red eyes shone out of the pitch
dark like steady flames. Shann sat on her haunches, transfixed,
torn between the malevolent creatures before her and the gargantuan
serpent behind. She made her decision.

Aarrrrgghh!
Grabbing Lyall’s staff,
she made the fiercest, most guttural sound her throat could muster,
and rushed the red-eyed beasts, whirling and slicing
indiscriminately. Snarls turned rapidly to squeals. Bodies scuffled
and collided with one another. Fiery eyes receded into the
blackness.

As silence
descended once more, Shann listened intently. After what seemed to
be an age, she heard and felt a low rumble.
Getting closer
. Instinctively, she
drew back farther into the side passage. The monstrous form of the
serpent appeared in the main passageway. Shann watched as it passed
directly in front of her. It felt as if her very bones were being
shaken. She waited long after the creature’s tail had flicked past
and the rumbling had ceased completely, so that all she could hear
was the hammering of her own heart.

Warily, she
stepped back into the main passageway and headed for the second
cavern once more. She checked behind her for any sign of the
serpent’s return, but there was none. Striking the tinderbox, she
relit the lamp and examined the vacated chamber. There was
something different about it. It was strewn with rocks. No, not
rocks.
Bones.
Shann keened her senses and moved into the chamber. There was
something that looked like a mound in the centre. As Shann
approached, she saw a pile of bones topped by what looked like a
clutch of leathery eggs. And there was something else. A dark
shape. Her heart leapt and she hurried over. She saw a figure
lying, wrapped in a black cloak with a shock of fair hair.
Lyall
.

Shann knelt and touched his face.
It was warm. Relief washed over her. She placed her hand in front
of his nose and felt a faint breath. Quickly, she pulled a flask of
water from her belt. Turning him over gently, she put the flask to
his lips. The water dribbled from the side of his mouth. His eyes
squeezed together and then opened. He looked confused, as if unsure
whether he was dreaming. “Shann…what happened?”

Shann whispered as if the beast
might somehow overhear. “The serpent snatched you and dragged you
down here. I came after you.”

“Wh-where are we?”

“I’m not sure. It looks like some
sort of nest. We must leave before it returns. Can you move?” Shann
helped him to a sitting position.

He tried to stand, then winced
and sat back. “My left leg…it feels like a fracture.”

“Wait here.”
Shann got up and cast her eyes about the chamber. She sifted
through the bleached skeletal remains, trying not to speculate what
or who they might have come from. All of the pieces were broken or
too small or not the right shape. Then she suddenly remembered her
staff. She pulled the two halves of the broken staff from her
belt.
Yes. These should work.

Shann placed them beside Lyall
and quickly began ripping strips from her own clothing. Then she
lashed the broken staff pieces to either side of Lyall’s leg to
form a makeshift splint.

Lyall’s brow was covered with
perspiration and he looked pale. “You look as if you’ve done this
before. I didn’t know you had healing skills.”

Shann smiled as she worked. “From
time to time, Gal would treat travellers’ injuries at the inn.
Pretty soon she gained a reputation for it. She would let me watch
and even help sometimes…There. Can you stand up now?” Lyall
struggled up to stand on his good leg, using his staff as a crutch.
“Don’t put any pressure on it,” she counselled.