The Fifth Vertex (The Sigilord Chronicles) (26 page)

20

Urus tugged on Murin's sleeve, waited for him to turn, and signed, "Which way?"

Murin looked left and right, peering down the tunnels. The hallway in which they stood was carved smooth with barely a single visible tool mark, as was the branch leading left. To the right, the way looked carved with rough tools, the stone glistening with rivulets of water dripping down the sides.

"This way," Murin said, ducking into the older tunnel to the right. "We follow the tool marks through the ages, from the recent to the old to the long-forgotten."

Urus followed. The tunnel descended around a precipitous curve into the darkness. Within just a few steps, Urus could barely see his hands before his face, the ambient light from the hallway above almost gone.

He pulled up, frozen with fear.

Murin turned and signed. Urus had to struggle to make out the shadows of the man's enormous hands against the darker shadow of the surrounding cave. "Keep moving, we have no time to squander."

"I can't," Urus signed, "I can't go through the pitch black, not again."

Murin sighed. "Think about seeing the world through my eyes and the bond will take care of the rest."

"What bond?"

"The bond you created when you entered my mind back in Kest," Murin signed, the blurry, jerking movement of his hands reflecting his impatience and frustration. "Quantum entanglement. Do you remember nothing I say?"

Urus had no idea what any of that meant, but he was growing accustomed to that feeling, so he put his doubts into the back of his mind and tried to imagine what the world looked like from inside Murin's eyes. No doubt everything would look smaller from that height.

A rippling rainbow of color splashed over the scene, deep reds and blues spilling as though from some unseen dye vat onto the rock. When the fresh colors bled away, the vista remaining was a thing of wonder. The rock surface luminesced with hues of blue such as he had never seen before, with Murin awash in deep reds and oranges. He looked down at his own hands, similarly pigmented in reds and oranges.

"What is this?" Urus signed, spellbound by the colors in his hands and the contrail of fading yellow left behind as he formed signs in the air.

Murin smiled. It was a rounded brush stroke of yellow in the middle of his orange-tinted face.

"You are seeing through my eyes. You see temperatures, red for hot, blue for cold, and different mixtures for everything in between."

"This is the most amazing thing I have ever seen. Do you see like this all the time?"

"Only when the need arises," Murin signed.

"Fantastic," Urus whispered.

"Marvel later, we must be off." Murin turned and forged further into the mountain.

Urus wondered if the sigilords could change their vision, or if all they could do was make blue smoke or hurt people.
 

Curious, he tugged Murin's sleeve.

"What now?" he signed, irritated.

"I want to know about the sigilords' magic," Urus signed.

Murin threw up his hands in exasperation. "If I have to stop and turn around every time I talk to you, the Order will find the vertex before we get to the bottom of this hallway."

The insult stung. He knew it was a burden for people to stop and look at him in order to talk, but most of the time people pretended otherwise, putting on a show to avoid hurting him.

"I am sorry," Urus signed.

"Do not apologize, simply use your thoughts," Murin said.

Urus gave him a blank look, unsure what he meant.

"I thought I explained this already. Think what you want to say, but think it
at
me. No need to waste time with primitive communication methods."

Like this?
Urus thought,
at
Murin.

Precisely; now let's get moving
, came the response, a strange thought that felt like it came from his own mind, but different somehow. It felt like when he read the lips of the Bormesh twins back home. They both moved their lips exactly the same way, but he could still tell the difference between Abel and Obel without knowing exactly how.

They continued further down into the mountain for a long time without saying—or thinking—anything else.
 

Urus finally mustered the courage to ask again,
What do you know about the sigilords' magic?
It was amazing to be able to ask a question to someone's back and to get an answer, without reading lips or signing!

They reached the end of the slope, and Murin paused briefly to inspect the rock on two different forks in the tunnel. He stroked his almost nonexistent pure white beard for a moment then departed down the left tunnel.
 

I know very little of how it works. Until I met you, I believed the sigilords long extinct. Their power was that of space and time, and I do not have enough time to explain the science that proves how nearly unstoppable such a power can be in the right hands.

Faced with another fork in the passage, Murin ducked into an even smaller, much less refined shaft leading to the right and even further down. They had been walking downward for so long that Urus wondered if they were still in the mountain or below it.

So they just made blue flashes like I do?
he asked, still coming to grips with the idea of being able to communicate with thought alone; no one making fun of his speech and no tradesign.
 

Not blue, no. The sigilords would draw ideograms—sigils—in the air, imbuing them with their power. They combined sigils to produce effects. They called it sigilcraft. I have seen more wonders in my lifetime than you can possibly imagine, and yet there is still nothing that can surpass the spectacle of a sigilord in his prime, wielding the raw, unfettered power of space-time itself.
 

Urus thought a moment, letting the image of a sigilord blasting a battlefield with raw power percolate in his mind.
That sounds…dangerous
, he thought.

Murin stopped short and turned around, giving Urus a long, appraising look.
Dangerous indeed. So dangerous that the arbiters believed sigilords should not be allowed to exist.

Movement caught Urus's eye. In the distance he could see several small, faintly reddish shapes that blended with the cold blue of the wall in a way he hadn't seen before.

What's that?
he thought.

Murin turned and looked, holding up his hand to signal Urus not to move.
Those are people, on the other side of some thin cave walls, I do not know how many
.

We can see them through the stone?
Urus asked.

Murin nodded.
If the wall is thin enough, yes. Follow me, quietly.

Murin led them through several narrow, low corridors, some small enough that they had to crawl over the damp rock to get through. They stopped and knelt, Murin listening to the conversation that was lost on Urus. A tall, skinny shape seemed to argue with shorter folk, their gestures frenetic.
Briene and a blood mage
, he thought.

Precisely
, Murin thought in reply. Urus jumped a little, forgetting that Murin was listening to his thoughts.

What are they saying?
Urus asked.

They are here looking for the vertex. The briene are dating rock samples, looking for the ancient tunnels.

Urus shifted his weight to avoid cramping.
They're headed in the same direction we are, down into the oldest part of the mountain
.

Then we follow them and stop them before they destroy it. We can stay far behind them without them noticing.

They crept further into the depths of the mountain, the cool damp air of the higher shafts replaced by hotter, much more muggy air. They kept far back from the group, only turning a corner after the others were barely visible through the cave walls.

The briene seemed fine moving through the dark caverns, but the blood mage must have had trouble. A small orb of bright red heat hovered just over his shoulder. Urus could see the ripples of colored heat it cast on the ground and against the nearby stone.

After seeing the world through Murin's heat-eyes, he would never look at it the same way again and he wasn't sure he wanted to. He wished Aegaz could see this. He would have been just as awestruck.

I am sure your uncle is alive and that the heads of Kest's invaders lie atop pikes on the nearby sand dunes
, Murin projected into Urus's mind, sensing Urus's emotions as well as his thoughts.

Before Urus could reply, he saw the briene and the blood mage stop short, the hovering ball of heat pulsing brightly.

They've found something
, Murin and Urus thought to each other.

Can you hear them?
Urus asked.

It is the vertex. We must strike now. Kill the blood mage before he can cast a single spell, understand?

Urus nodded and drew the heavy, two-handed sword from his back. It occurred to him that if the cave wasn't wide enough, he would have to stick to stabbing attacks, as there might not be enough room for slashing.

Murin ran, through the tunnel, back hunched over, a knife in each hand and Urus followed close behind, his sword pointed away and behind him. The last thing he wanted was to impale Murin from behind if he skidded to a halt.

An image appeared in Urus's mind—it was the path ahead, as seen by Murin. Without projecting any words, Urus absorbed the plan. Murin conveyed the route through the caves and where the blood mage would be standing. The feeling of urgency coming from the grey man was unmistakable; if they didn't kill the blood mage in the first strike, the first spell he cast could obliterate them all.

Seconds passed in what felt like hours as they surged through the passage.
 

They emerged into the chamber where three small briene stood with the blood mage who, despite his height, was still a hand shorter than Murin. Urus followed in the footsteps he had already seen as through retracing the steps of a dream. He leapt for the red-orange shape and, unlike in the boat in the cistern below Kest and the road leading to Waldron, he didn't hesitate.

He thrust the massive sword forward through the man's torso, planted his feet, and swung the man, still impaled by the sword, into the rock wall. The impact was so powerful that bits of rock crumbled to the floor. Murin sprang forward after the impact, thrusting both knives into the blood mage's heart.

Urus spun and grabbed two briene heads, bashing them together. They slumped to the ground as an ice-blue blade flew across the room into the forehead of the remaining briene. Urus watched as life's bright red-orange heat started to drain from all four men. Just like that, it was over, and they had killed them all.

Will yourself to use your own eyes again. Heat will be of no use to us reading the sigils on the vertex
, Murin thought.

Urus closed his eyes, did as he was told, and opened them again to near total darkness. A small flame erupted from a red stick Murin took from the body of one of the fallen briene. His heart ached with a feeling of loss, as though he were diminished without the enhanced colors of the heat-eyes. The world seemed dull and empty by comparison.

Mourn not, for the Infrasight is at your call any time you will it
, Murin thought, again sensing what Urus felt. While Urus liked the ease of communication, this new relationship with Murin felt a little too intimate. He liked the privacy of his own mind.

Urus stood over the blood mage's lifeless body, lit by the flickering light of the strange briene torch. Unlike the mage who killed Waldron's duke, this one didn't wear magician's robes. Instead, his body was wrapped in a skin-tight leather suit fitted with little puffy pouches from neck to ankle.

Blood packs
, Murin thought.
The blood mages who do the real fighting, not like that coward Anderis, use those to carry blood. Their body heat keeps the blood warm and ready to use as a reagent for their spells
.

Remember what Corliss said about me?
asked Urus
. About how there was another reason I failed the gauntlet tests?

Urus sensed Murin's agreement without Murin needing to describe it in words.

He was right. I failed because I don't want to be a warrior
. He pointed to the blood mage's body.
This isn't who I am or what I want to do.

A surge of pride rushed from Murin through to Urus. It was a potent, intoxicating feeling. He had never known what it felt like for someone to be proud of him before, not even Uncle Aegaz.

Perhaps there may be hope for you yet, young man. The insatiable thirst for blood, power, and victory over one's enemies is what started the Fulcrum War
,
and what nearly destroyed this world
.

Before Urus could think to ask what that was, Murin responded.

The Fulcrum War began three millennia ago as a feud between the blood mages and the sigilords. Once the blood mages discovered the potency of pure sigilord blood, the war turned to genocide, the blood mages hunting the sigilords nearly to extinction for the power their blood contained. The war virtually destroyed this planet before the arbiters arrived and, with the help of a single sigilord named Komindus, created the seals binding the five vertices.