The Swans' War 3 - The Shadow Roads (29 page)

The water glowed pale green, like the wake of a ship in the sum-mer sea. Elise began to knead the liquid with her hands, humming or chanting all the while, and the water took on substance; a pale opalescent jellyfish. The passageway, the faces of their companions, all turned a soft green in this light. Toren felt as though he were below the water—which in a sense he was; below the water in a bubble of air.

Elise plunged the blade of her sword through the glowing mass, and withdrew it, glistening green. She passed the mass to Orlem, who did the same. The giant offered the mass to A'brgail, who, Toren noted, hesitated only a second before doing as Elise and Orlem had done. It seemed even A'brgail could become accus-tomed to the arcane.

"It will stick to iron or steel, less well to brass. Your hands might glow faintly for a few moments after you've touched it, but that will quickly fade. Run the blade of your sword or dagger through it quickly."A'brgail handed the mass to Toren, who was surprised at the coolness of the "witch water," as Elise called it. Very quickly they had a number of blades aglow, casting an eerie green light over the smooth stone.

Elise pointed to the floor of the tunnel, which was wet. "Hafydd is before us," she said. "Here is his track."She led them at a jog, her glowing blade held ready.

The tunnel quickly proved to be a hallway, for a distance carved out of the island's bedrock, then the right-hand wall became enor-mous blocks of tightly fitted granite. Here and there a kind of writ-ing could be seen carved into the wall, and though Elise stopped to regard this, if she could read it, she did not say.

The passageway descended and curved slightly to the left. After perhaps two hundred feet, side passages began to open up, first to the left, then to either side. Elise stopped at each and lifted her sword high, illuminating the writing over the openings.

"Do these signs mean anything?" A'brgail asked.

Elise shook her head, her tangle of wet hair spraying drops of water into the air. "It appears to be an early form of an ancient lan-guage that Sianon knew. Some words I recognize, a few others I can guess at. This passage we are in seems to have been called the 'east nool.' Nool, I would guess, means passage or hallway. Have you ever seen such signs before, Orlem?""I have not, my lady."She glanced down at the wet floor. "It does not matter. We fol-low Hafydd's track. Let's hope we are not so slow that their cloth-ing dries." She set off again at a jog.

But in a hundred yards Hafydd's trail disappeared at a blank stone wall.

Orlem tapped his pommel on the stone and examined the edges by the glow of his blade. "It appears to be seamless… solid rock. Not a slab that has been rolled into place."Elise nodded, her look pensive but not surprised.

"What devilry does Hafydd practice?" A'brgail asked.

"It was not Hafydd," Elise stated evenly. "It is this place. Even the passageways change." She touched a hand to the wall. "Orlem?

You have some of Sainth's ability to travel the hidden paths, can you find your way here?""I cannot, my lady. Even Sainth might be confused in such a place.""I fear you're right. Let's hope that Hafydd fares no better. We must make a map as we go. We might have to explore many pas-sages before we find what we seek.""I'll make the map, Lady Elise,"Theason said, with something near to enthusiasm. He took from his jacket a small notebook wrapped many times in heavy, oiled cotton. "Hardly wet at all," he assured everyone. He found a writing implement and began drawing immedi-ately, reminding Toren of Kai—the man they called the mapmaker.

"There was a branch not far back—let's see where it will take us," Elise said.

The company retreated in their bubble of pale green light, A'brgail and Toren Renne bringing up the rear, listening for any sounds behind them.

"Have you ever seen such a place?"Toren whispered to A'brgail.

"No. Even the great ancient fortresses of the Knights were small and crude compared to this."Toren nodded. "They must have had mighty enemies to make such a stronghold.""Or mighty fears."The tunnel was wide enough for three to walk abreast, though they went in groups of two, dripping water behind from their plunge through the pool. Elise stopped suddenly, crouching down. Toren pushed through the group until he could see. The floor was wet there, a thin stream of water seeming to emerge from the wall.

"Is it our track or Hafydd's? "Toren asked.

"Hafydd's," Elise said, rising. "I can't find Orlem's boot print here." She dashed on, her light footstep echoing in the ancient hall. Hafydd stared at the floor of the tunnel as though it had somehow offended him. He crouched, and Beldor Renne half expected him to smash the floor with his fist, but instead he reached out and rubbed his hand over the water that lay there in droplets and small pools. "We are wandering in circles," A'denne pronounced. Unlike everyone else he ignored Hafydd's dark moods and spoke when-ever the urge struck.

Hafydd appeared not to hear but rose to his feet and motioned for his captain. "Pick two good men for rear guards. Sianon is here and not alone." He spun on his heel and set off down the hallway. In fifty yards they came to a splitting of the way—three passages going off at different angles. Hafydd held a torch aloft, examining the writing. "I shall kill Kai when I find him next," he said evenly. He waved his torch. "This way."The passage went less than a hundred feet before it branched in two. Sianon had apparently gone left. Hafydd hesitated only a moment, then took the right-hand passage, which appeared to lead down. Fifty feet along, three side passages opened up, two to the right, one to the left. Hafydd took the second opening to the right.

The tunnel split again not far off. Hafydd stopped here for some moments, examining the marks on the walls. He even took out his sword and banged it once against stone, so that it rang an unholy note, echoing and distorting off the walls. But divining did not seem to offer an answer, and after a moment he sheathed his sword again. Beldor could see that Hafydd's mood had become more than dark. Even A'denne had the good sense to stay quiet.

The left passage was chosen this time, and it soon curved sharply around and angled slightly down. A'denne caught Beld's eye and raised his eyebrows, then shrugged. Beld thought it was as articulate as one could get about this place, which appeared to defy reason.

An odd, distant sound reached them, echoing strangely against the stone, but no one knew what it was. The passage ended in a narrow opening, and beyond was a circular stairwell that wound steeply down. Hafydd stuck his head through the opening, and with no further hesitation, started down, his footsteps echoing and distorting back up the well. Beldor thought they sounded almost like words.

After thirty steps Beld began to feel as though he had entered an icehouse, and his breath appeared. "Autumn outside, winter in-side," he muttered to himself. Stairs, endless and ancient, kept ap-pearing before him, curving vertiginously round and round, and the strange sound, almost a ringing, grew louder and louder.

At the bottom of the stair they emerged into a massive domed hall, eight-sided and lavishly decorated, though the light from their small torches illuminated it only dimly. Beldor stopped and turned a slow circle, while Hafydd continued out into the center of the hall.

"It is a lovely bedchamber, Father," Hafydd whispered. "But I have come to wake you, at last."Alaan stood staring at the pool, which they had finally reached after an endless hike up and down stairs and slopes drenched by rain. Dease was so tired he fell down on the mud and wet grass and hid his head in his arms.

"Where are we now?" Crowheart wondered.

"This is the place I was seeking." Alaan crouched, looking at the ground. Lightning flashed off in the distance, offering its faint light. "But someone is here before us.""Who?" Fynnol asked.

"Orlem, certainly," Alaan said, pointing out a massive boot print. "And with luck that means Elise Wills as well." He gazed at the ground a moment, awaiting the little flashes of light that came from far away. "But there are many footprints here. I fear Hafydd found this place before us.""And where have they all gone?" Fynnol asked, looking around.

But Alaan did not answer; he stared at the pool a moment, as though the sight of it robbed him of speech and reason.

"Into the pool" he whispered. "They've gone into the pool." He walked quickly around the water's edge, examining the ground by lightning flash. "And not come out again…"They began to find storage rooms as they reached the lower level: an armory; a spirits room where casks still stood against the wall; a bakery with a great hearth.

Toren lingered there a moment, as though he could almost hear the former inhabitants. He closed his eyes and listened.

"Do you hear it?" a voice asked.

Toren opened his eyes to find Eber and Llya, halfway out the door, gazing at him.

"Hear what?" Toren responded.

"The whispers," Eber said. "As though he were trying to speak to us in the smallest breezes, the silences."Toren shook his head. "I hear nothing.""Lord Toren? Eber?" It was A'brgail calling. "We mustn't be-come separated from the others."Toren nodded and pushed quickly past Eber and his son, feel-ing the child's large, knowing eyes on his back.

The vastness of the maze began to make itself clear as they walked, miles passing beneath their feet, though they arrived nowhere.

"Do you think we're still on the island?"Toren wondered aloud, as they stopped to consider another side passage.

"I think we are, Lord Toren," Elise answered. "Though it is only a feeling—an intuition." None of the urgency had gone out of Elise's step. Though Toren knew that facing Hafydd frightened her, the fear didn't seem to dim her determination.

They made their way down this new passage, descending at a shallow angle. After a short while a soft metallic tinkling reached them. It echoed and distorted up the tunnel, never growing louder though occasionally fading almost completely, only to return as they progressed.

Passages opened up sporadically, and at each Elise would listen carefully, then choose the tunnel from which the sound seemed to emanate.

"What could that be?" Orlem asked, as they stopped to listen at another opening.

"Water running, I hope," said Elise.

"But it sounds like small bells ringing," the giant said.

"I pray you're wrong, Orlem," Elise said. "We can't drink bells, and our waterskins are rapidly emptying."The giant glanced down at the waterskin that hung from a strap over his shoulder, it sloshed when he walked, less than a quarter full.

"Do you know what I find odd?" Eber said softly. Llya had fallen asleep riding on Baore's back, his head bouncing on the Vale-man's shoulder. Eber himself looked ready to fall asleep.

"What, Eber?"

"Though we have traveled all about, we have never found our way back to the pool where we entered the tunnels."Elise nodded, her look thoughtful. "The maze has not done with us yet.""Or people who find their way in here never leave…" A'brgail said prophetically. He met no one's eye after offering this bit of speculation.

"I doubt anyone has been here before us, Sir Gilbert," Elise said. "The place is too well hidden.""Unless someone who had not the skill to stay afloat fell into the pool…" Eber suggested.

"Hurry on," Elise said. "No amount of speculation will change the task we have come here to perform. Hafydd has to be stopped whether we are to find our way out or not." Her eye fixed on Llya, asleep on Baore's shoulder, his face the epitome of innocence. She reached out as though she would touch his cheek, but then stopped, sadness and regret overwhelming her look of resolution. Quickly, she turned away and set off down the passage, the metal-lic tinkling echoing softly around them.

At length the passage ended at a narrow opening, ornately dec-

orated with signs and symbols they had not seen before. Elise held her blade aloft for a moment, examining them, but then shook her head and thrust the blade into the opening, leaning in to see what lay beyond.

"It's a stair," she announced, "circling down. A cold stair."Elise pushed through, and Toren could hear her steps echoing against the unforgiving stone. Slighthand followed, forcing his large frame through the narrow opening. The rest went in turn, one man at a time. When Toren's turn came he found himself in what looked like a well, perfectly round and vertical, but with a winding stone stair circling down. Unlike the other tunnels, this well was as cold as an icehouse, and he quickly learned not to touch the frigid walls for balance. His own blade lit the way for him, and he fol-lowed the retreating back of Gilbert A'brgail, round and round. It was impossible to guess how far they descended—a very great dis-tance, Toren thought, and he was sure it grew colder with each step.

Baore stopped momentarily to drape his massive cloak over Llya, who stood blinking and rubbing his eyes, the cloak flowing onto the floor around.

"Winter appears to await below." Toren helped Baore arrange the cloak over the child. "Damn, it is cold!"Baore scooped the child up again. "I'm from the north," the Valeman said. "Cold is afraid of me."They went more quickly then, round and round, trying to stay warm with movement. Toren caught sight of Elise's retreating back, tangled yellow hair bobbing. She went swiftly, as though their long march and time on the river had not tired her at all. The others straggled behind, Eber supported by Theason.

"There is light below," someone called up the well, and the col-umn slowed its descent, suddenly wary. Toren saw the glowing swords below rise up, ready to do battle, faces appeared in the cool light, drawn and pale.

A few more steps, and they stopped entirely. Someone waved a hand at them. "Lord Toren. Sir Gilbert. Please, come down."The others pressed against the ice-cold walls to let them pass.

Elise waited below. Above the murmur of what was clearly running water, a voice droned though Toren could not make out the words. Elise looked up at them, her face a ruin of anguish.

"Hafydd makes the soul eater," she said, her voice colder than the air. "We must sacrifice everything to stop him … if we're not already too late."