The Essence Gate War: Book 01 - Adept (25 page)

“Syth, are there any other exits from this chamber?” he said.

“These transparent walls can be raised somehow, if one is insane enough to flee in the direction of the Essence Fount. Doing so requires the same key device as the door above, however, and though the door mechanism seems simple enough, I have not seen how the viewing walls are triggered.”

Amric frowned, his gaze raking over the
bare room. “And your cage, how is it opened?”

“Again, it requires one of those cube-keys that Grelthus always carries
upon his person,” Syth responded.

Amric muttered an oath, stalking around the perimeter of the cage
. “The trap was well laid; this chamber is devoid of anything we can use to escape. If only we had a heavy table like the one in the upper chamber, we could use it to block these bars of fire long enough for you to leap out, or to force a crack by ramming it into the thick glass wall.”

“I like your thinking, swordsman,” Syth said with an approving nod
. “But while your idea might work on my cage, it would fail to even scratch this strange, clear wall, just as your blades will be useless in that regard. The Wyrgen could be quite garrulous, with just a hint of caress to his ego, and he told me once that the viewing walls are not made of anything so fragile as glass, despite their appearance. Rather, he confided to me with no small degree of pride, they are constructed of some strange material, harder than stone, which is as impervious to physical damage as it is to the radiant energy of that accursed fountain.”

“The walls are not
as invulnerable as Grelthus would have you believe,” Bellimar remarked, “if the Fount’s eruption breached so many of the viewing chambers.”

“Aye,” Amric said, drawing one of his swords
. “And perhaps those that remain were weakened in that initial explosion, or by the subsequent months of exposure to the Fount’s energies. In any event, I am not inclined to wait here on the Wyrgen’s whim without exploring every option. If we can wrest one of those keys from Grelthus, we can return here to free you from that cage.”

“I might have an easier way,” Syth commented, halting the swordsman in mid-step
. The prisoner reached inside the rippling folds of his robes and drew forth an object which he then held high in the air for all to see. Perched on his outstretched fingertips, luminous in the shifting hues of the fountain, was one of the peculiar cube-shaped key devices used by the Wyrgens.

“How did you come by it?” Bellimar asked, arching a silver eyebrow.

Syth gave a harsh laugh and twirled the cube between his fingers before making it dance across the back of his knuckles. “I took it from Grelthus’s tunic without him knowing, one time when he passed too close to my cage. At the time, I was kept in the chamber above, though he put an end to that. Oh, how long I practiced for that moment, and when my chance came, it was executed without flaw! Thought I had caught my robes afire for a moment, but nay, it was a clean grab. Grelthus was livid when he discovered it missing, and naturally he turned his suspicion upon me, but in the end I convinced him that I had last seen it amid the clutter of his table. He procured another, but he was, regrettably, much more guarded around me after that.”

A
hard grin spread across his features. “I invited him to join me in the cage and search my person for the key, but he declined.”

“A moment ago you were protesting your innocence,” Bellimar chided, the corner of his mouth quirked in a slight smile.

“I said I had harmed none of the Wyrgens in my capture,” Syth said. “I never denied being a thief, and a rather accomplished one at that.”

“Damn your hide
, Syth!” Amric growled. “If you had shared this earlier, we could have pursued Grelthus before he gained such a lead.”

He strode toward the cage, but Syth
waved his hand in a flourish and the metal cube vanished from sight. “Not just yet, friend,” he said, wagging his index finger back and forth. “I had to make certain you would free me first, and while your attitude thus far has been laudable, I will nonetheless require your promise on the matter before I pass the key over to you.”

“You have it,” Amric said, holding
out one hand. “From the moment you spoke, I had no intent of leaving you in the grasp of a madman.”

“Noble words
. Swear it,” Syth gritted.

Amric caught and held the man’s gaze with his own
. “I swear, if it be within my power, that I will free you from this cage and from Stronghold as well. If I cannot free you, I will end your life if you wish it, rather than leave you as a captive here.”

Syth’s eyes narrowed, searching the swordsman’s, and then he gave a
slow nod. A flick of his wrist brought the cube into view once more, and he peeled back a billowing sleeve to thrust one sinewy arm between the bars of the cage, careful not to let the crackling blue fire contact his flesh. Amric lifted the device from the man’s palm, finding it lighter than expected, and he studied it as he stepped back from the cage. It was metal, as he had already observed, its outer surface etched with an intricate tracework of fine lines that pulsed faintly with contained energy. He grimaced. Magic and more magic; he was surrounded by that which he sought most to avoid.

“Quickly now, how do I use it to open your cage?” he asked.

“This cage sits atop a glowing pad of some kind, which powers the bars,” Syth said. “Look for a metal panel set into the stone of the wall here, it will appear much like the stone but will be glossier and smoother to the touch.”

Amric located the panel, smooth and featureless amid the coarser stone of the wall
. “Found it. Now what?”

“Press the cube to the panel and give it a twist
, and the bars should extinguish.”

He did so, and the brilliant blue shafts sizzled and winked out, leaving the brooding metal husk dull and lifeless in their wake
. Syth eyed where the barrier had been for a moment, as if disbelieving its absence, then sprang from the cage in one lithe movement. He stretched his hands over his head as high as he could reach, and then leapt into the air in a tight spin before landing cat-like on his feet once more.

“Magnificent!” he exulted
. “Many thanks, my friends! At this moment, even the fetid air of this cave of jackals seems sweet indeed. Let us depart this foul place without further delay, for I have not felt the kiss of sunlight upon my face for far too long.”

“Soon enough,” Amric said, striding for the stairwell
. “We are going after our companion first.”

Syth darted across the
room to halt before him, blocking his path, and Amric felt an accompanying gust of wind brush across his skin.

“Hold a moment,”
said Syth. “Stronghold is infested with savage, mindless beasts that enjoy nothing more than to dismember intruders. This place is a veritable maze, warrior. I have seen the maps spread across Grelthus’s table, and tried to study them without him knowing, against my eventual escape. Even if Grelthus survives to reach whatever destination he has in mind, and even if you can survive wandering the corridors as well, you still have no idea where they have gone and you do not even know the layout of this place. I hate to say it, but your friend is gone.”

“We are not leaving him behind,” Amric said, stepping to the side to pass around the man, but the latter slid back and to the side to remain before him,
standing at the foot of the stairwell and barring its entrance.

“I did not regain my freedom only to
exchange it for my very life on a fool’s errand,” Syth said, an edge of iron to his voice.

“No one is asking
it of you, thief. You are free to go your own way,” Amric said. “Now move out of my way, or it won’t be the Wyrgens who take your life.”

Syth’s eyes narrowed, and he thrust out one hand, palm up
. “Give me back the key, then.”

“You know that I need it to pursue Grelthus,” Amric returned
. “The key stays with me.”

“And you know that I cannot escape Stronghold without it,”
Syth said. He bared his teeth in a cold smile. “Perhaps I take it from you. I have been watching you, swordsman. You are suffering from odd spells of illness in this place, and I am a dangerous man. Can you protect yourself from me, in your condition? Do you trust your body not to betray you at the crucial moment?”

“Yes, on both counts,” Amric answered at once, though he spoke with more confidence than he felt, for the unexplained bouts of dizziness continued to gnaw at him
. “Furthermore, my companions will help ensure that we waste time on this foolish squabble later.”

Syth opened his mouth and then abruptly stiffened, his retort frozen upon his lips
. Valkarr appeared behind him like a ghost in the shadowy recesses of the stairwell, the razor tip of his sword pressed against the thief’s spine and encouraging him to an attentive posture. Syth’s eyes flicked to the side, but whatever reaction he might have had was instantly quelled as a second blade caressed his throat from the front. He sucked in a startled breath, and even the incessant breeze swirling about him fell to a whisper. His gaze traveled up that length of shining steel, to where it projected from Amric’s fist, and past that to traverse an arm sheathed in muscle which seemed not plagued at all by illness at the moment, and further yet to find eyes as cold as winter staring back at him.

“You have a choice now, thief, and be thankful for it,” Amric said
softly. “Your life can end here as a spreading pool of blood on uncaring stone. Or you can find your own way from Stronghold, and I wish you luck on your journey. Or you can accompany us, and help rescue a man who would do the same for you without hesitation, were your situations reversed.”

Syth’s throat bobbed against the keen edge of the blade as he made to swallow
before thinking better of the idea.

“I
saw the anguish on your face when you spoke of what the Wyrgen has done to you and other captives,” Amric continued. “Would you argue to leave another in his clutches, now that you have won your own freedom?”

“
Very well, I will help,” Syth said through clenched teeth. “I will delight in seeing to it that Grelthus never claims another victim.” Despite his evident care in speaking, a spot of crimson welled at his throat where the blade touched. Amric held his stance a moment longer, then withdrew his sword, though he did not return it to its scabbard upon his back.

“Good,” Amric said with a twisting smile
. “We can renew our efforts to kill each other after we escape Stronghold alive.”

Behind the man, Valkarr let his weapon drop as well
. Syth let out a breath and put his hand to his neck. Amric moved past him and bounded up the stairs, while Valkarr waited for the thief and followed close at his heels. Bellimar brought up the rear. By the time the others reached the door, Amric had it unlocked and was stalking through the cluttered chamber beyond.

“A moment, while I reclaim what is mine,” Syth murmured, pausing at the long table
. He shoved stacks of debris aside, his movements growing almost frantic as he searched for something. With a growl of triumph, he lifted the black metal gauntlets that Amric had seen there earlier. Syth donned them immediately, flexing the cleverly jointed fingers several times and inspecting the ebon-clawed tips. A wicked grin spread across his features.

“Now I am ready
,” he said.

Amric frowned
. A flicker of something––pain, or perhaps relief––had twisted the man’s expression when he regained the devices. He turned to scan the chamber. “You mentioned seeing maps of Stronghold here before. Do you see them now?”

Syth shook his head
. “I tried to examine them without drawing the attention of Grelthus, but he caught me one day and removed them all from the room. I know not where he hid them.”

“
How much do you remember of them?” Bellimar asked. The old man carried Halthak’s discarded staff, and was circling the table as he studied its contents.

“Some,
” the thief admitted, “though it has been weeks now since I saw them. And I was more intent on plotting my eventual escape route from the fortress than looking for the bastard’s sanctuaries. Still, I recall him marking certain rooms and shading sections of the map to demarcate paths of high and low activity.”

“Take us to the nearest,” Amric said
. He moved to the closed metal door and employed the key once more, then pocketed the device. He glanced back, looking to each of them until he received a nod in return, and then he cracked the door and peered out into the hallway beyond. It was still and silent as a tomb, lit along its length by those unwavering, flameless lamps. He waved the others forward, easing the door fully open and drawing his remaining sword.

“
Tell me, thief,” he said. “Were your earlier words boastful or true? Are you truly a good hand in a fight?”

“You will find out soon enough,”
Syth responded with a fierce grin.

T
hey slipped into the empty corridor.