Shards of Time (22 page)

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Authors: Lynn Flewelling

BOOK: Shards of Time
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“It’s beautiful!” Alec whispered. “The paintings, this. All of it.”

“It certainly is.” Seregil kept his voice low, too, out of respect for the sacredness of the chamber. “A leak must have developed, letting water in to make these formations. Judging by the size of them, and how they’re covering some of the drawings, it was a long, long time ago, but after the art was done, obviously.”

“Look at that!” Alec walked between two of the dripstone columns, beckoning Seregil to follow. Just beyond lay the strangest artifact of all. A stone pillar about three feet high protruded out of a layer of dripstone, like a candle in a pool of its own wax, and on it was a skull facing to their right, toward the part of the wall that had fallen away. Both skull and pillar were glazed with a glistening layer of the icing-like
stone; tiny stalactites hung in the eye sockets like prison bars.

Seregil held out his lightstone to illuminate it better. It was definitely a real skull, and the dripstone coating was thin enough for them to make out the intricate black-and-silver designs that covered it and the blackened metal boss on the top of the head, probably capping whatever was fixing the skull to the pillar.

“What in Bilairy’s name is that?” Alec murmured.

Seregil shook his head. “Nothing I’ve ever seen.” He leaned closer, studying the face. “This was an Aurënfaie man, I think. See how the cheekbones arch, and these fine ridges above the eyes? They’d be heavier on a Tírfaie skull.”

“What’s a ’faie skull doing here?”

“It probably had some ritual function, given its placement and these markings.”

“Do you know what they are?”

“No, but Thero might. We’ll have to get him down here.” Seregil’s teeth were chattering; the chill of the cave and his soaked clothing were becoming problems.

“What
was
this place, and what does it have to do with the oracle?”

“I don’t know. Maybe nothing. Remember the sea temple where—” He paused and took a breath.
Where Nysander died
. “Where we killed Mardus? That was a Retha’noi sacred spot predating the coming of the Hierophant. Maybe this was, too, when the drawings were done. Come on, it’s—”

Suddenly they both heard a deep sigh just behind them. When they looked, however, there was no one there.

“You heard that, right?” asked Alec.

“I did.”

“The wind?”

“Down here? I don’t think so.”

They heard it again, right between them. Gooseflesh prickled on Seregil’s arms as the cool air went colder around them.

“I’d rather see a ghost than hear one,” Alec whispered.

The sigh came again, this time with a hitch at the end, as if the spirit was about to cry.

“Hello?” Seregil whispered, searching empty air. “Who are you?”

A choked sob answered, and what might have been a whisper.

“I didn’t quite get that. Can you tell us who you are? Can you show yourself?”

For a moment he was certain he saw the darkness behind Alec thicken, but nothing came of it except another ragged sigh.

“Seregil? I think maybe we should go.”

Together they splashed back across the cave, and Seregil had a very distinct feeling of being watched.

It was no easy task to get up the steep tunnel again, but they made it and found Micum waiting for them.

“Your voices echoed,” he told them. “I only heard bits and pieces, but it sounded like you found something interesting.”

“Someone,” Seregil replied, wet, shivering, and unsettled.

“A ghost?”

“Yes.”

“I think it was a man’s voice, don’t you?” asked Alec.

“I think so.”

“It wasn’t just that, though,” Alec told Micum. “The inner cave is incredible! There are ancient drawings and dripstone formations, and a skull on a post.”

“I wish I had your build. I’d like to see that,” the big man replied. “Whatever workmen were looting down there must have been built like you two.”

“It could be that larger adults aren’t supposed to go there,” said Seregil. “Given the size of this stool, maybe Klia was right. Maybe the oracles here really were children.”

“How is Klia?” asked Alec.

“I was waiting for you,” said Micum. “Let’s go see.”

They found Klia sitting under a tree at the edge of the clearing with a very concerned Thero hovering over her. The sun was sinking behind the hills, and the shadows lay long across the little courtyard around the altar. Klia’s escort stood at a distance, looking uncomfortable. Zella stood near
the entrance to the cave, hands clasped under her chin and her expression a study in concern and guilt.

Alec brushed by her and went to Klia. “How are you feeling?”

“Something must have disagreed with my digestion,” Klia replied, looking pale and chagrined. “I can’t recall the last time I threw up.”

“Perhaps it was the chamber,” said Zella. “It’s known to affect some people strangely.”

“Because of the vapors?” asked Seregil.

“That, and some claim to hear voices. Some faint for no reason.”

“And you allowed the princess to go in there without warning?” Thero cried. “What were you thinking, woman?”

Zella fell to her knees, hands still clasped. “I am so sorry, Highness! Such occurrences are rare—”

“It’s all right.” Rising, Klia went to Zella and offered her hand. “I’m fine.” She cast a glance at a cluster of bushes a few yards away that were spattered with vomit. “Someone should clean this up. This grove is sacred.”

“I’ll see to it as soon as we reach the encampment,” Zella assured her.

“What did you two find, Seregil?” asked Klia.

Seregil described the cave, and the noises they’d heard there.

“I wonder if it was the voice of whoever belonged to that skull?” said Thero.

“I’d say that’s a good bet,” Seregil replied. “Whoever it was, he wasn’t much of a conversationalist.”

“I must get down there soon,” said Klia.

“Next time,” said Thero. “I’ll take you back to camp.”

To Seregil’s surprise, Klia made no objection as Thero offered his arm and walked with her to where the horses were tethered. She was still pale.

Alec watched them go, brow furrowed slightly. “I’ve never seen her like that.”

“I don’t wonder,” said Micum, looking thoughtful.

Seregil raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Micum shrugged. “I think I’ll spend the night in the palace,
having a look around. You see more ghosts in the dark, right? Or have you two had your fill of spooks for one day? You came up out of that tunnel pretty fast.”

Seregil snorted. “All I need is to dry out.”

“Me, too,” said Alec. “I think I’m actually getting used to ghosts.”

They set off the way they’d come and Seregil found himself riding beside Zella, who still looked shaken by Thero’s remonstrance.

“Tell me, what was the state of the innermost cave when it was first opened?” he asked.

“Just as you saw, I suppose. I went down once, but I didn’t like the feel of the place,” she replied.

“Really? I found it very beautiful.”

“As you say, my lord.”

“There’s recent damage there. Someone’s been taking souvenirs.”

“That’s strictly forbidden. I’ll speak to the foreman.”

“There had been a stone tablet blocking the entrance to the innermost tunnel. Did Toneus break it down?”

“He had it removed. It’s stored back at the palace.”

“I’d like a look at it when we return.”

“Of course.”

“Do you know how long ago it was blocked?” asked Seregil, struck by how uninterested she seemed in the matter.

“No, my lord. The place had fallen into disuse years ago, and as you pointed out earlier, the Plenimarans had no respect for the place. I imagine they blocked it up to keep the faithful from using the caves.”

“Are there many faithful left?” asked Klia, overhearing.

“Not during the occupation, as you might imagine. The locals seem to have little use for the place.”

“If I may, Your Highness,” said Seregil, “I think it might be better if the inner caves remain off limits for now, given the damage Alec and I saw.”

“A good idea,” said Klia. “I’ll have guards posted there when we get back to camp.”

By the time they reached the gate into Menosi again Klia appeared to have fully recovered but Thero still insisted on riding back to camp with her.

“Honestly, I’m fine!” she told him. “You’re needed here.”

“They can spare me for an hour. I’ll see you back, look in on Mika, and be back here before dark.”

“Take Sedge and some of his guards with you,” Klia told Seregil and the others. “I don’t want anything happening to you.”

Micum pulled the amulet the wizard had made for him from the neck of his shirt. “No dra’gorgos will bother us so long as we keep these on, right, Thero?”

“You should be safe, but be careful all the same. I’d rather you went in there later, when I could be with you.”

“We’ll be fine,” Seregil told him.

K
LIA
was quiet as they rode back toward the camp and Thero left her to her thoughts, not wanting to embarrass her in front of the others by treating her like an invalid.

By the time they reached camp the sun was nearly down. Torches and braziers were already being lit. A soldier directed them to the large tent set aside for Klia, and Thero followed her inside.

A young servant woman sat by a small brazier inside, but Klia dismissed her. When the girl was gone, Thero closed the tent flap and cast a silence spell on the tent. Klia sank down on the cot and rested her head in her hands.

“Damn that woman, letting you walk into that cave without any warning!”

“No harm done, love,” she replied, voice muffled by her fingers. “No one else was affected. Although I thought Seregil looked a little odd when I joined him in the middle chamber.”

“He always looks a little odd to me.”

Klia laughed. “I’m serious. It was like he was listening to something I couldn’t hear. You know, the way he did in Sarikali?”

“I’ll ask him about it. I’m surprised he didn’t say something about it at the time.”

She sighed and looked up. “You’d better go see how Mika is getting on. You’ve been gone a long time and it’s dark.”

Thero looked into her lovely blue eyes. “Are you sure you want to be alone?”

“I told you, it was just a momentary distemper. Probably just the torch smoke in an enclosed place, or the vapors. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for the oracles …” She trailed off and Thero was amazed to see tears welling in her eyes as she whispered, “Do you think they really were children, Thero?”

“It was just a stool, love. We can’t read too much into any ancient object without other evidence. Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?”

She cupped his cheek and kissed him. “Go fetch Mika and we’ll keep each other company while you’re gone.”

“Very well.”

One of the guards on duty directed him to a large tent behind Klia’s that had been assigned to him and Mika, but when he threw back the flap he was surprised to find it dark. He snapped his fingers and a lantern overhead flickered to life. Their things had been brought in and properly arranged. Mika had even set out parchment and writing implements on the small field desk. But of the boy there was no sign. Thero’s heart skipped an uneasy beat. It wasn’t like Mika to wander off.

Thero went to the desk to see if the boy had left him a note, but there wasn’t one there, or anywhere else in the tent. He fought back his rising uneasiness as he went back to Klia’s tent. She and Zella were perusing one of the maps of the city.

“He’s not there?” said Klia. “He’s so good-natured, perhaps he’s made friends with some of the soldiers and is sharing supper with them around one of the campfires.”

That certainly seemed more plausible than Mika wandering off.

“Do you want me to help you look?” she asked.

Thero smiled at the honest offer; most royals would have sent for a guardsman or two, but Klia would have gone herself. “No, love, I’ll find him.”

He went to the open circle at the heart of the encampment but there was no sign of the boy and no one seemed to have seen him. At last he found a cook who’d given Mika a pocket meal that afternoon.

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