Malediction (Scars of the Sundering Book 1) (25 page)

Kale moved
past Kali, touching her shoulder as he passed. She jumped at his touch and then
looked away, pressing herself against the tunnel wall. He leaned over the edge.
He spotted the bottom. It appeared to be a small room alongside a larger
passage. Kale knelt down and felt the wall below the edge. His sensitive
fingers felt crevices and irregularities in the rock face that would provide
easy purchase for drak claws.

He swung his
legs over the edge and hopped off before anyone could stop him. Kale spread his
wings. They caught the wind and slowed his descent, although the sudden jolt
made his new joints pop audibly. He winced as he landed and flapped his wings
to ensure they still worked. Apart from some new soreness, they seemed to have
functioned as he expected. He chuckled and waved for the females to follow him
down.

As he waited,
he looked around. The passageway connecting to the room he was in was square
and reinforced with timbers. A pair of steel rails ran its length, as far as he
could see in either direction.

Delilah
climbed over the edge and tossed her staff down to Kale. "Catch it!"

He caught it
and set it aside. She dropped down, falling to her knees and rolling. Kale
offered his sister a hand and helped her to her feet. He waved to Kali.
"It's not far. There's another passage. It has rails in it."

Kali girded
herself and dropped down. After Kale helped her to her feet, she brushed
herself off. "All right, then. Let's get on with this." She entered
the passageway and knelt by the track. "We're definitely in the mine now.
I think this is an unused spur." She pointed down the passageway.
"See how the rails are bent? How they don't join up exactly? Mine carts
don't handle misaligned rails well."

Delilah
looked one way and then the other. "Which way should we go?"

Kali sniffed
the air, pulled out a lump of chalk, and marked the wall near the floor. She
pointed to the left. "That way."

"What
makes you so sure?" Kale looked to the right. It appeared the passageway
was the same in either direction. Obviously, they didn't lead to the same
place, but he wouldn't know how to tell which way led deeper into the mine.

"The
breeze is flowing that way." Kali pointed to the right. "If we follow
the foul air, we should find the operating portion of the mine."

The
passageway ran straight, and the further they went, the more evidence they
found of its disuse. Several sections of track were missing completely, and in
one area, they squeezed past a rockslide where the tunnel had partially
collapsed. Once they were past the rockslide, the dark grey walls of the
passageway became streaked with white. The air tasted salty to Kale, and he
heard the faint sounds of picks on stone.

The tracks
led to a vertical shaft. Ropes hung from a pulley system, and Kale saw light
from below. The sound of digging echoed in the chamber, and Delilah
extinguished the light from her staff. Dropping to their bellies, the three
draks crawled forward and peeked over the edge of the shaft.

A broken
lift lay at the bottom, probably a hundred feet down. A rusty mine cart was
upended. Bony legs protruded from under the cart, long since picked clean of
flesh. From this distance, Kale was unable to identify to whom the legs
belonged, drak, human, dwarf, or otherwise.

Kale was
surprised the mine was well illuminated. The floors and walls of white salt
reflected light from the lanterns and gave the air an eerie glow. An
orange-scaled drak shuffled into view, carrying a load of white rocks in a
bucket almost as large as he was. He sensed Kali tense up next to him as they
watched the drak shuffle past.

The crack of
a whip in the distance made the drak flinch, but he continued with his bucket
of salt until he was out of sight. Kale reached over the edge and felt the
walls of the shaft. They were much smoother than the previous ledge. He rolled
over on his back to look up at the pulley system. The metal was rusted, and the
ropes appeared intact; however, he knew that looks could be deceiving.

"Can
you reach the ropes?" Kali pushed herself away from the edge.

Kale
stretched as far as he dared, but wasn't able to come close. The shaft was too
wide. "I don't think we could climb that one, either. It's too
smooth."

Delilah
still looked over the edge. "Getting down isn't the problem. It's coming
back up. I don't want to stay down here forever."

"There
are other ways out, but I agree with you." Kali chewed on one of her
claws. "Dammit. My sources told me this was a sure way in."

"What
if we go back to the room and take the other passage?" Kale leaned over
the edge of the shaft again. He heard cries of pain echoing up from below.
"Maybe it circles around."

"It's
worth a shot."

Chapter 13

The
alternate passage was in worse shape than the direction they originally headed.
The track was misaligned and twisted, almost as if some angry giant twisted the
steel rails into a knot. Delilah was unable to ascertain where they were in
relation to the palace as the passageway narrowed, twisted, and turned. The
timbers reinforcing the ceiling were rotten or missing in many places, and
after ten minutes of following where it led, it was clear the three draks were
no longer in a mine tunnel, per se. Deep gouges covered the walls, as though
some creature dug its way into the mine.

Delilah
shone her staff's light overhead and peered at the gouges on the wall. "I
don't think this is going to take us back into the mine. Whatever caused these
gouges is something I don't think we want to meet."

Kali ran her
hand across the gouges. "I agree. My source was wrong. This was a way into
the mine, but it's useless to us. We should go back to the surface." Her
shoulders slumped, and she leaned back against the wall.

A scraping
sound echoed through the tunnel, and a chill shot down Delilah's back. She
swept her staff around, sending light into the dark corners, looking for the
sound's source. She heard the scraping again, but this time it was followed by
chittering and the sound of skittering.

"We
should go."

Kali drew
her dagger. "I agree. There's something in here with us."

The three
draks broke into a run. Delilah's clawed feet slipped on the hard floor of the
tunnel, but Kale grabbed her and kept her from falling. From the scrabbling
from behind them, it was clear that something, or several somethings, gave
chase. They turned the corner at breakneck speed, and Delilah lost her footing
again, skidding across the tunnel. Her head smacked one of the rails with a
ring.

"Dammit!"
She grabbed her head and staggered to her feet. Gleaming teeth appeared in the
darkness as a multi-legged creature darted forward.

"Deli!"

"Get
back, Kale!" Delilah raised her staff and closed her eyes. Her head
throbbed, yet she managed to focus and drew magic to her. "
Synnefotone
shifone!
"

She jumped
back, colliding with Kale and Kali as a cloud of flashing, whirling blades
appeared in the beast's path. Its roar turned into a squeal as the blades cut
into its flesh and flayed its skin. Delilah grabbed her brother and Kali's arms
and spun them around.

"Run!"

They left
the toothy beast to deal with Delilah's whirling blades and ran back to the
room through which they entered the mine. Delilah shoved her staff between her
back and her harness and leapt at the wall. Her claws found purchase in the
rock, and she clung to it, scrambling with her feet to find something to push
against. Kali jumped onto the wall next to her and climbed up, scrambling up
the wall like a crab across a rocky shore.

Delilah felt
Kale's hands on the bottom of her feet, pushing her. "Go Deli, go!"
She found her purchase and climbed. Kale climbed alongside her, offering her a
hand when she struggled to find a handhold. At the top, Kali waited for them
and pulled them up when they were within reach.

The three
draks paused at the top of the wall to catch their breath.

Kali slapped
Delilah on the shoulder. "Impressive spell."

"Thanks,
remind me to tell you how I used it to escape a dragon's belly sometime."
She grinned at the other drak and smacked her brother on the knee. "Let's
get back. I need a drink."

The journey
back through the tunnels and catacombs seemed shorter to Delilah than the time
it took to make the initial trip. Kali stopped them when they reached the door
leading from the catacombs to the palace's undercroft.

"I know
we didn't really accomplish anything, but I appreciate your help. I'm going to
try to find another way into the mines."

"If
there are draks enslaved down there, Deli and I want to help, right?"

Delilah
couldn't agree more. She still didn't trust Kali's intentions where it
concerned her brother, but she approved of any plan that freed draks from
enslavement. "Absolutely. We'll make some inquiries of our own, as
well."

"Be
careful who you talk to." Kali tilted the lid of one of the ossuaries near
the door. "We can use this as a dead drop"—she chuckled—"to
exchange information. Sorry about earlier, Kale. I wasn't expecting the
wings." She pulled Kale close and nuzzled his neck. "I'll be seeing
you around."

Kali melted
into the shadows. Delilah smacked Kale when she noticed her brother was
panting. "Come on. Let's go to bed. It's probably late."

* * *

The drak
twins were not as quiet as they thought they were when they returned to the
suite. Pancras pulled his pillow over his head to drown out their excited
giggles and hushed conversation. When sleep returned, the shadow returned with
it, enveloping him in his dreams and raging that it couldn't provoke the
minotaur into using his magic. In the dream world Pancras felt trapped, buried
under a veil of hate and fury, unable to move, unable to wake.

When he
finally woke, he realized the throbbing, pounding headache at the base of his
skull had returned. The light of the sun reflecting off the snow-covered city
bored into his eyes like lances of fire. He groaned and rolled out of bed,
pulling on a set of robes. He fitted both parts of his focus to the tips of his
horns, straightened his jewelry, and left the draks to break their fast alone.

He met Lady
Milena in the main hall. Her scale armor gleamed in the light, as if freshly
polished. He averted his gaze but knew as soon as he stepped outside, there
would be no respite from the pain.

Pancras
hated being right.

Squinting
against the glare, Pancras pulled up his hood and kept his head down as he and
the lady knight tromped through the snow. Overnight a new dusting covered the
hard packed path. It reminded Pancras of the time when one of the bakers
spilled several bags of imported flour all over the market square in Drak-Anor.
The light breeze blew the dusty snow in whirling clouds, coating their cloaks
in fine white powder.

The Temple
of Apellon was located in the hilly residential area behind the palace. It was
built on one of the tallest hills in the district, so as to have unobstructed
sunlight for most of the day. Like the Foundry District, the residential area
was enclosed within a border of high walls, and most of the individual estates
within the district were separated from each other. Trees, now bereft of
leaves, lined the avenues. Servants, bundled up in thick woolen cloaks, cleared
snow off the walkways and paths which led to sprawling homes. Pancras scraped
away the snow with his hoof, surprised the street wasn’t paved in gold.

Columns
reaching toward the sky surrounded the temple, the House of Light Eternal. A
peaked, fabric canopy covered the vast open area at the center of the temple,
allowing light in but keeping weather out. The open sides of the temple did not
keep the wind from blowing snow in, however, and Pancras observed several young
men and women clearing the inside of the temple with shovels and brooms and
building a wall of compacted snow around the inner structure.

A man
wearing thick, white robes and a furry hat stood at the center of the temple,
near the altar, and directed the acolytes to where they should concentrate
their cleanup efforts. Pancras shaded his eyes with his hand and looked around
as they entered the temple proper.

There was no
rigid structure to the temple interior. The architecture was designed to draw
worshippers' attention toward the altar, which appeared to be chiseled from
white marble streaked with veins of pink. It was a circular pedestal upon which
stood a representation of Apellon, son of Tinian, god of light, healing, and
the arts. Apellon was depicted as a young man with flowing, golden hair,
holding a lyre, and looking upward to the sky, lips parted in perpetual song.

"Arnost!"
Lady Milena held up her hand in greeting as she approached the priest. He spun
round, his eyes crinkled and mouth open in delight.

"Milena!
You've been away too long." He enwrapped her in a hug, pinning her arms to
her sides. Milena's cheeks flushed, and her lips formed a thin, straight line.
Arnost held her shoulders and stepped back to admire his sister.

"You
look splendid! Why have you not been by?"

Milena
extracted herself from Arnost's grip. "My duties have kept me busy. That's
why I'm here." She jerked her head toward Pancras.

Arnost
noticed Pancras for the first time since he entered the temple. "A
minotaur! What brings a minotaur to Apellon? Perhaps you need to give voice to
the music within?" He circled Pancras, looking him up and down.

Pancras put
his hand across Arnost's chest, bringing the priest to a halt. "Nothing
like that. I'm doing research, and I need the opinion of a healer."

Arnost
narrowed his eyes and reversed course, walking backward around Pancras.
"Yes, of course you do. I see a darkness within you, a place the light of
Apellon does not reach."

Pancras
venerated Aita, goddess of the underworld, but he didn't think that made him an
especially dark person. He didn't twist her word to fit a belief that the
natural state of everything in the world was to die, and the sooner the better,
in the way many death cults believed. Arnost's intense, pale-hazel eyes sent a
shiver down Pancras's spine. When the priest reached for the golden lyre
hanging around his neck, the minotaur grabbed his arm.

"It's
not for me. Is there somewhere we can speak privately?" He hoped Arnost
would agree to move out of earshot of the acolytes and Lady Milena.

"There
are no secrets from the light of Apellon." Arnost backed away from
Pancras, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

The minotaur
fought to keep his voice steady. "There is nothing sinister about this,
but the prince desires some measure of confidentiality where his affairs are
concerned." Pancras hoped by keeping his intentions truthful, it would
draw less scrutiny to the facts.

Arnost
rubbed his hands on the front of his robes, eyes flicking to his sister and
then back to Pancras. "Well, if it's for the prince…"

Lady Milena
took that as her cue. She approached the nearest acolyte and took him by the
shoulder. Leading him away from Pancras and Arnost, she glanced at the two and
nodded.

Pancras
leaned in close to Arnost. "It is a most delicate matter, you understand.
A member of the court is dealing with fertility issues. They enlisted me to
help, but it's a little outside my area of expertise." He put his arm
around Arnost's shoulders and fingered his golden lyre symbol.

"Ah
yes. A delicate matter indeed. One that many nobles do not wish to discuss
publicly. I understand." Arnost fidgeted with his robes. He shuffled his
feet and inspected the ground. "We deal with this from time to time. Is
this a matter of performance or something else?"

Pancras
cleared his throat and grimaced. "The noble in question is reluctant to be
too specific, but I am certain it is not an issue with the act itself. Rather
it is the result of the act, if you take my meaning."

"Ah,
yes." Arnost rubbed his chin. "There is a treatment. Just a
moment." He circled the altar, keeping one hand on the pedestal as he
paced. "Just a moment, I'm trying to remember."

Pancras drew
his cloak around him as he waited. The wind picked up, causing the canopy over
the temple to flap and sending showers of snow to fall and swirl around. The
dusty flakes glittered in the morning sun and caused a flurry of acolyte
activity as they hurried to brush it away from the marble steps. The glare of
the sun reflected off the snow, burned his eyes, made them water, and did
absolutely nothing to aid his throbbing head.

"It was
an ointment, to be applied internally, um… all the ingredients were to be
mashed and mixed with an oil, a boiled oil of… the castor bean! Yes, I'm sure
that was it." Arnost pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes
shut.

Pancras
lifted up the hems of his robes and brushed off the snow as he waited for
Arnost to gather his thoughts. He already understood that the herbal infusion
probably could not be reverse-engineered. He would have to acquire information
on contraception, as well.
That's not going to seem suspicious at all.

"Thorntree?"
Arnost blinked and tilted his head. "No, no, no." He laughed. That's
for the opposite thing!" His mirth turned into a scowl.
"Philanderers." He resumed his trek around the pedestal, muttering to
himself. He appeared from behind the statue of Apellon, holding a finger in the
air. "Faerie Candle! Er, black snakeroot, if you prefer. Yes, that's it.
Mash up black snakeroot, lime ash, and winter cherry in boiled castor oil. Then
have the lady in question apply it liberally to… the"—he cleared his
throat and looked down at his feet—"a… affected area."

Pancras made
a mental note to look for thorntree. "I presume an herbalist would have
all this?"