The Lord of Lies: Strange Threads: Book 2 (13 page)

Jandryn was still
leading them on and had apparently not realised what the mounds actually were. Quickly she pushed through the crowd to catch him up.

‘Captain!’

‘Yes, Tarzi?’

‘We should stop.’

‘Yes, the architect says this is the main cavern – it will be easier to fight here than along confined ledges.’

‘But do you see that?’

She pointed at the nearest mound, some twenty paces away. He squinted at it, and she saw him register the bones.

‘And there, and there?’ She pointed out the others.

‘Halt!’ called Jandryn. ‘Cluster up, backs to each other!’

As the soldiers hastened to obey, a low gurgle came from somewhere over the water.

‘Light!’ said Jandryn. A threader bent her torch in the direction of the sound … and lit up an empty drain, dripping with slime.

‘They know we’re here, I think,’ said Jandryn. ‘Tarzi, get into the centre of us all.’

As she squeezed
past shadowy faces, she saw that some wore strange, empty expressions – mouths muttering soundlessly, glassy eyes wandering.

‘This is ill-considered,’ someone muttered. ‘We should not have come here.’

A few heads nodded and, in that moment, Tarzi felt inclined to agree. They had no idea how many of the monsters were here, or from which direction they would come.
Stupid
that she had allowed Jandryn to bring her to this foul place, all because of his misplaced sense of pride and valour. She was far too easily led.

She was weak.

Rostigan would be disappointed in her, and rightly so. She had placed herself in danger for no good reason – how did he manage to put up with her at all, when she was so witless? She should have waited for him to return, to tell her what to do. Making up her own mind was always a mistake. No wonder she sometimes felt as though he did not really love her. Why should he?

She pinched the bridge of her nose. Greyness was encroaching, almost tangible in the way that it smothered any happy thought before it could be had.

Fight it
, she told herself.

‘Fight it!’ she growled at those around her.

A nearby wall rumbled as something large moved through hidden tubes … there was a splash in the river, too big for any simple slap of water on rock …

She glanced
at Jandryn, who was staring off at nothing, his sword slowly lowering to his side. Pushing back towards him, she grabbed him firmly by the arm.

‘Jandryn – they are circling us. Do not give in to sadness!’

He blinked at her forlornly. ‘She’s only toying with me. Having her fun. I am nothing more to her than idle amusement.’

‘Jandryn!’

She shook him, jostling focus into his eyes. For a moment, she thought he had it.

‘Ready, people!’ he said. ‘Swords at the ready! Bows …’

His gusto petered out and confusion crinkled his brow, as if he had lost track of his thoughts.

If she could not keep him cognisant of the situation, they were doomed. They would die here. She would die here.

She held fast to her lute, as if it were her anchor to reality. The instrument defined her, reminded her of who she was, her purpose here. She would not let them use it against her, like they had that morning.

She started to play. At first the notes seemed muted by the running water, evaporating away into the high space. Steeling herself, she played harder, faster – a happy tune completely incongruous to the muck of their surrounds. And then, not sure if she was trying to raise the mood, or goad the creatures that wound closer in the dark before those who would slay them lost all hope, she launched into song.

I need no
roses, said the girl
,

No jewels and no crown.

Golden coins are not for me
,

Nor silken evening gown.

Then how to win your heart, said he
,

What can I do to show

How achingly I love you?

And win you as my beau?

Take me for a walk, said she
,

Down to the willow trees.

Take your hand in my hand

And whisper sweet whimsies.

Tell me lies about the birds
,

Fibs about the fish.

Twine the reeds about my wrist

Then snap and make a wish.

The tune was an old favourite, sung in taverns across Aorn. She thought familiarity might help, and gladly noticed that some of the others were beginning to mouth the words.

‘Join in if you like!’ she called.

How will I win your heart, said he
,

What can I do to show

How high that I esteem you?

And win you as my beau?

Steal bread from the kitchens
,

Flee the angry cooks
,

Hide inside the library in

A castle made from books.

A soft
scrape sounded in a drain nearby. Something bulged at the opening, its constricted bulk expanding as it left its confines to spill to the floor. A nightmarish head reared up, and what Tarzi had heard of worms did nothing to stop cold fear shooting through her at the sight of it. The creature’s oval face, carved from the same black flesh as the rest of it, was disturbingly human in shape. A wide nose hung above long thick lips, in which – not in the gums, but embedded
in
the lips – were rows of inwards-curling hook-like fangs. Against the sides of its bald, smooth head, large ears were flattened, now slowly peeling free in the open air. The eyes were the least human aspect – a smattering of tiny silver dots across the brow.

Beholding the worm filled Tarzi with dread, and made her swallow her song for a moment. How could such aberration come to be? Regret had
made
these creatures and, looking upon this one now, she wondered if he had used people somehow in their creation, a sickening thought.

The worm’s tail flopped free with a slurp, its head rising higher.

‘Stand ready everyone,’ Jandryn said. ‘Bows, ready?’

It was not the confident command of a captain, more the plaintive question of a child.

Sing,
Tarzi
, she told herself.
Bring them back.

She gave a lurching, resounding strum.

But what of wealth, said the prince
,

I offer you so much
,

Lands as far as you can see
,

Courtiers and such!

A second foul head rose from the river, water streaming over its glittering brow, dripping off the trails of mucus dangling from its mouth.

I’ll shower you with riches
,

Cast petals at your feet
,

Stage bouts for your amusement

’Twixt champions elite.

The soldiers stood watching the worms dumbly, their weapons unraised. Tarzi began to panic – if they didn’t act soon they would lose themselves forever. She edged closer to Jandryn and directed a firm kick to his shin. He gave a little cry and shot her a distressed look.

‘Attack,’ she prompted. ‘For Althala!’

He frowned at her – then, thankfully, gave a nod.

‘Attack,’ she said again. ‘Say the word!’

‘Attack!’ he shouted suddenly, making soldiers – and himself – start. His eyes kindled like a spark from fading ashes, and he turned about to slap a man across the face. ‘Come on, you fools! Don’t stand there with arrows pointed at your toes!’

The first
worm gave a long, rasping sigh, and grinned horribly.

‘Rouse yourselves! This scum has been eating our people! Make them sorry!’

Soldiers shook themselves and arrows finally left bows to fly across the cavern at First-worm. Some bounced from its hide, opening up jets of white blood. Others held, though failed to sink in far – and, with a shake, First-worm dislodged them. More jets hissed from its shallow wounds, misting the air around it. All the while Tarzi strummed desperately, as if the happiness of her tune was the only thing that shielded them.

No thank you sir, said she
,

Those things don’t interest me.

But please princess, he begged
,

How will I win the heart of thee?

An arrow shot into First-worm’s open mouth, and it wobbled backwards with a wet wheeze. Tarzi was glad to see the mocking grin knocked from its lips, but the feeling was short-lived, for the creature snaked forward with silver eyes gleaming. At the same time, River-worm lunged towards the shore, opening its mouth wider than it should have been able to clamp down over a guard’s head gouging mouth-hooks into his neck. Even as he was being swallowed the guard stabbed desperately, and managed a true blow that slid into a join between River-worm’s segments. It released him to coil backwards, and he gasped, his head and shoulders coated with filth and blood. From his expression, he was clearly amazed to be alive.

First-worm
coiled up and snapped at the front row of soldiers, whose swords competed to fend it off. Blows nicked it, yet it kept on, its tail thrashing across the floor to knock soldiers from their feet. It darted in and pulled back holding a struggling man, flinging him hard against the wall.

Despite its wound, River-worm twisted about and surged again at the shore. It ignored the soldiers at the edge, rising high above their heads while rippling its bulk out of the way of their swords, taking their arrows without apparent care, and swaying its head back and forth. It seemed to be looking right at Tarzi, as if it was trying to find a clear path to strike at her.

It’s the song
, she thought.
It’s driving them mad!

Remind me of a boy, she said
,

Who I used to know.

’Ere we were lords and ladies
,

Not so long ago.

Slime splattered her strumming fingers, making the strings slippery. Slowly she turned her eyes upwards. Silently sliding from a drain in the roof, a third worm dangled downwards. It yawned widely, raining more slime upon her.

It would be so much easier
, she thought,
just to give in. Moments and all would be done with, the struggle of life ended, along with all its ugliness.

The worm dropped a few more handspans towards her, and somehow the dark of its maw seemed inviting.

Someone lifted
and carried her, pushing her to the ground and falling on top as Third-worm crashed down where she had been standing. It uncoiled in the soldiers’ midst, knocking them outwards, several into the river, as River-worm dove from view.

‘I really don’t,’ said Jandryn breathlessly in her ear, ‘want to tell Rostigan I lost his lady.’ He was on his feet a moment later, leaping towards Third-worm.

As the soldiers who had fallen in the water struggled against the current, one gave a yelp and was dragged under. A moment later he erupted upwards wrapped in black lengths, his cheeks puffing purple as the air was squeezed from his lungs.

In a daze, Tarzi got to her feet. She saw soldiers setting about First-worm, which was spraying white from so many small cuts that finally it seemed to be growing weaker. In a frenzy it flung itself against them, crushing some as others fell upon it, to hew out larger and larger chunks of quivering black flesh. Its head came up briefly to receive a slice across the brow, and a row of its eyes burst like silver grapes. One of the threaders shouted for people to clear away, advancing with her torch, and flames leapt to sizzle across First-worm’s length, making it writhe as those pinned beneath tried to scrabble free.

Third-worm wheezed with its horrible, airy voice, and tried to slither towards the river.

‘Oh, no you don’t!’

Jandryn drove
his sword down hard through the base of its tail, pinning it to the rock.

As River-worm strangled the hapless guard in the water, it twisted and turned under an increasing torrent of arrows. A misfire struck the guard’s neck, ending his struggle. Others, loosed at close range, peppered the worm’s hide, and the frothy surface of the water grew slick with its white blood. The two other threaders arrived at the water’s edge –
finally doing something
, thought Tarzi – and twin levitated rocks hurtled in from either side of the creature’s head, to pulp it solidly out of shape. The worm curled backwards and sank out of view.

Third-worm wrenched free of Jandryn’s sword, splitting its own tail down the middle like a ragged forked tongue. Surrounded by guards on all sides, it swept its head back and forth while drooling copiously. It seemed to know that it was dangerously exposed and stilled for a moment, great body quivering. Then a grey mist spilled from it – from the joins of its segments, from its mouth and oversized human nostrils. The soldiers closest coughed, glanced around uncertainly, and slowed. The cloud spread outwards, enveloping them all. Tarzi could not help but breathe it in, though it tasted like nothing but vapour on her tongue.

Were they really doing something worthwhile here? she wondered. A few monsters dead in the dark, when the world was full of countless more? What a tiny, pathetic struggle. It all seemed so hopeless and overwhelming, she wanted nothing more than to sit down and cry.

Sit down
and cry … sit down and cry …

She had never sat down and cried in her entire life!

She straightened as she strummed the lute for all her worth, the vibrating strings flicking away slime. She raised her voice in full-throated melody.

The prince, he set aside his crown
,

Took her hand, soft as you please.

Let’s walk, he said, let’s walk then
,

Down by the willow trees.

As Third-worm tried to make for the water, swords cascaded across its back. It moaned and fell short, and Jandryn appeared to sweep down at its neck. Again and again he heaved his blade, until the head collapsed to a sagging fold, like a sack emptying of its gluggy white contents. Finally he stopped, breathing hard, his shoulders rising and falling with his exertions. Misted blood and grey vapour began to disperse.