Unholy War (84 page)

Yet it was still Malevorn who found the secret entrance, even without the gnosis. He pointed a finger at a blank wall and said, ‘There.’

‘There?’

He ran his mailed hands over it, his eyes closed, and grunted in satisfaction. ‘Arcanum training, Huriya: they teach us to penetrate illusions, even if your gnosis is blinded to them. You close off your senses and use touch alone, filtering out all other senses.’ He reached out and seized her hand, then pressed it to the blank door. It encountered a door knob she could not see. ‘Feel that? Hidden by illusion, but it’s there.’

She scowled and wrenched her hand away, then glared up at him. He looked so smugly knowing that she wanted to slap him – but he’d found what they sought.
Kraderz and Darice are dead. Wornu is broken. I’m surrounded by beasts and idiots. And him.

Still she shrank from trusting him. Instead, she turned to the blank wall and wiped away the illusion. The door appeared, and wards immediately sprang into life around it. Even though she battered at them with all her power, she could feel them being renewed, and then she sensed another presence on the other side.

Someone is there, waiting for us.

Fear of what Dareem had almost done to her made her flinch and step back. She glanced at Malevorn, knowing that he could most likely have the door down in seconds, but it was fear of that very competence that continued to hold her back.

Let them do it
, she thought. She turned to the pack. ‘Tear it down.’

37

The Scytale of Corineus

A
NTONIN
M
EIROS
, H
EBUSALIM, 793

Alaron hurried along the tunnel, lighting the way with a gnosis-light affixed to his staff. Nasatya was cradled in one arm and the satchel containing the Scytale and his notes was slapping against his thigh. How on Urte he was going to be able to fight when burdened like this he didn’t know.

Better hope I don’t have to.

Ramita followed, rattling off prayers under her breath. She’d been teary-eyed since Hanook’s decision to remain behind, but she was holding together, and her gnostic aura was formidably bright. Then they heard the first beasts, howling in the tunnel behind them, and he thought of Hanook, his serene and kindly face, his intelligence and wisdom.

Ramita’s face was stricken.

‘Did we do right?’ he asked, slapping the satchel holding the Scytale. ‘Should we have told him?’

She shook her head. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Can you run?’

The brick tunnel was well-made, square-cornered and fairly straight. Alaron kicked into a trot, and Ramita tried too, though she wasn’t a natural runner and the heavy gem-encrusted sari impeded her movements and left her gasping for air after just a few seconds. And the twins were a burden to both of them, awkwardly heavy and thrashing about. They were covering ground, but Alaron was increasingly frightened that they weren’t going anywhere near fast enough. Then they rounded a gentle bend, and he saw light at the end of the tunnel.

Ramita cried out in hope—

— and from behind them came an echoing cry, the many-throated voices of the pack, boiling after them like rats along a flooding drain. He threw a glance over his shoulder and saw low shapes bounding into view. ‘
Run! Run! For Kore’s sake,
move
!
’

He let Ramita pass so he could guard her back, loping behind her with his every instinct screaming in warning. Every glimpse behind showed the beasts getting closer. He realised it was his turn to do as Hanook had done: to sacrifice himself so that she could go on. He grabbed Ramita’s shoulder. ‘Listen, you’ve got to—’

She immediately understood – and refused. ‘No! No more! We stay together!’ Her face was adamant, freezing his protests. ‘
Together
, bhaiya!’ She stepped past him, faced the darkness and reached for Earth-gnosis, and he understood immediately what she was trying to do, but unlike at the palace, with its clear layout, she was unsure how to proceed. He linked hands with her and used mysticism to link their minds, and her eyes widened as she felt his gnosis link to hers.

He pulled her awareness with him, and suddenly the earthworks above began to reveal themselves. He could see the pressure points and the buttresses. This wasn’t something he could sustain for long – he was only a quarter-blood – but then her strength came in behind him, dwarfing him, and he rode that wave, expanding their awareness together.

She called amber-coloured gnosis to her hands and sent it into the roof of the tunnel. He provided the guidance, she the raw powerand with the two of them working as one, as the amber light surged upwards. He shielded his mind– her strength scared him, and he couldn’t help feeling like an egg in her grasp. She dropped his hand and snapped, ‘Now we run again!’

The snarling, yowling beasts got closer and closer and he looked back again as the pack reached the spot where they’d paused, barely sixty yards away. Their eyes and teeth were gleaming in the lamplight and their howls echoed, savage and unearthly in the confined space.

‘
Now!
’

*

Malevorn ran in the wake of the barking, yelping brutes, counting as he went. Huriya had only sixteen of the pack left.
Sixteen
. There were a few more of them outside in the street, perhaps, but more than thirty had entered the vizier’s palace and now half were dead – at the hands of four enemy magi. He was grudgingly impressed.
Damn you, Mercer. I didn’t think you capable.

Without access to the gnosis running in chainmail was hard, and it made him realise how much he depended upon his magic in all he did. There was a silent place inside his skull which had always been pumping energy to his limbs, or drawing information from all about him. Now the silence inside was deafening and deadening.

Huriya did not deign to run: she floated beside him, sparing her little legs but burning gnosis like lamp-oil.
Yes, run through all your energy, little princess. Then you’ll be helpless and I’ll snap your neck.

The pack stormed along the tunnel ahead of them both, their calls louder and more eager—

—until he heard a violent
crack!
that reverberated through the enclosed space. He was an Earth-mage and recognised it instantly, even without his gnosis.

He stopped dead, grabbed the startled Lakh girl and threw them both to the ground, then he rolled so that she was on top, because if one of them was going to die it might as well be her. With a roar, the lights vanished and the tunnel before them filled with noise and dust and the screams of those who had gone before them.

His luck held: they were outside the main collapse. Huriya shielded them, keeping rocks as big as their bodies from crushing them, and his last sight before all light vanished was of her face above his, her eyes filled with so much hate and fear it paralysed him in the darkness.

*

Alaron stared at Ramita as the roof collapsed. Her mind was still fused with his and he could feel her emotions as if they were his own: protective fear for the twins and for him, and absolute determination not to be taken. Her almost savage will to survive was tempered only by her cool practicality.

She was staring at him with glowing eyes, seeing more than just his physical form. ‘Sivraman,’ she breathed. ‘You are my Sivraman.’ She was trembling with primal ferocity.

He fell utterly in love. Her face, full of protective fire, was instantly imprinted onto his soul for all time.

Then dust engulfed them as they clung together, using Air-gnosis to call fresh air to keep them alive for the coming moment. They bowed together, turned away from the onrush of dirt and dust, shielding as they pulled all the air they could into a tiny bundle of space containing the two of them and their tiny shrieking burdens. Linked still, she fed more power into the shields, and once again her sheer strength awed him. He wondered how she could possibly be so strong – it was as if she was made of the same stuff as the rock beneath their feet.

They clung together and weathered the storm of dust and debris until, gradually, it ebbed and they could dimly sense the lamp they had been making for. Wrapped in their bubble of air, they began to edge forward. The twins were kept from full-blown panic only by Ramita’s use of mystic-gnosis to calm them. He pulled energy from everywhere as they went: Air-gnosis to breathe, Earth- and sylvan-gnosis to solidify the roof above, healing for scratches and cuts, even divination, to predict any incoming threats. There were holes in the roof from the collapse, even the dim light shone from the moon shining through the dust, and distant shouts from the street above, fearful or in pain. He could not even begin to imagine what damage they’d wrought up there. The air wasn’t good, but it was enough, and they staggered onwards, retching and spitting out dust, until they emerged into the golden haze of a glowing lamp before a door. His eyes were streaming, but his heart was dancing.

I will do anything to see her safe.

Ramita produced the key and unlocked the door, they stumbled through and she shut it on the thick dust swirling behind them. He caught his breath and inhaled the wondrously clean air. ‘We did it,’ he gasped. He reached for more gnosis to lock the door.

And found nothing.

What?
He clutched at his periapt and tried again.

Ramita saw his bewilderment and patted his arm. ‘Calm, bhaiya. I have been here before. This palace has a barrier that prevents use of the gnosis.’

‘What?’ he asked, astonished. ‘How?’

‘Something my husband devised, to protect the mughals from the magi. Hanook brought me this way when we met with Tariq.’ She walked to the next door and pulled a bell-rope. ‘We must gain entrance to the palace. I fear that Huriya will still find a way to reach us.’

‘Your
sister
is here?’

‘
Adopted
sister,’ she corrected curtly. ‘I saw her during the attack.’

‘Then it’s the same group who attacked us at the Isle?’ Alaron was astonished. ‘They’ve chased us a long way.’

Ramita was cooing in Dasra’s ear and he tended to Nasatya, stroking his head and sending soothing thoughts. The baby stopped wailing, looked up at him with wide, serious eyes.

Don’t fear, little one. I’ll protect you.

At last a panel opened in the inner door and a man spoke in Lakh. Ramita stood, faced the panel and bowed slightly as she answered. A few words passed back and forth, then the door opened. An impressively attired guardsman admitted them to another room beyond: a hall of white marble, with a balcony above.

Ramita touched his arm, pointed. ‘Archers,’ she whispered.

He looked up and saw the dozens of slots in the stonework, and the arrowheads that tracked them around the room.

He instinctively went to shield, then remembered that he couldn’t. ‘What’s happening?’ he asked her, trying to silence the bell of joy he felt just from looking at her.

‘I’ve told them something terrible has happened,’ she replied. ‘Mughal Tariq is coming himself, to hear our story.’

He exhaled heavily. ‘Well, he better not take too long. And tell them to guard that door.’

*

When the dust settled, they were still alive, alone in the darkness. For no good reason Malevorn reached up and kissed Huriya’s mouth. Despite being only a Noorie, she tasted like any other girl, until she bit his lip so badly his mouth was filled with blood and he could barely think past the pain.

‘Do you think you’re funny, slugskin?’ She pushed off him, kindling gnosis-light. When he tried to rise, she slammed him back onto the rubble-strewn ground hard enough to wind him. ‘Stay there, bakrichod.’

‘What’s a bakrichod?’ he asked as he gasped for breath in the choking dust.

‘It’s Lakh for goat-fucker, which is what you are, slugskin. Don’t touch me without permission.’ She climbed into a shaft of light that coated her in silver like one of Kore’s angels descended from on high, then he realised it was just moonlight, pouring from a long rift in the roof of the tunnel that reached the surface.

He wiped the blood from his mouth and sat up. The lure of the Scytale was goading him on, despite all the loathing for felt for his enforced companions. As Huriya climbed the rubble he staggered upright and went after her.

Every second revealed more of what had happened: the tunnel roof had collapsed – probably brought down by Mercer or his Lakh bint – and most of the remaining pack-members had been right under it. He wondered if any still lived. They emerged into the moonlight to find that the tunnel had been following the route of a street, presumably to avoid the weight of buildings above.

As he watched, the rubble about him shook, and suddenly Wornu emerged, half-mad and roaring in bewildered rage. Hessaz followed him, shrieking triumphantly at still being alive. Both were caked in dust and blood and looked ready to tear apart the rest of the city in vengeance. Half a dozen other mounds slowly rose and hands started clawing a way to the surface. An animagus was usually also an Earth-mage, so the capacity of the shifters to survive such an attack did not altogether surprise him. But there had been sixteen Dokken in the tunnel, and only seven emerged from the rubble.

He joined Huriya and she called the rest of the pack, those who’d stayed outside the vizier’s palace to keep the soldiers out. A dozen winged shapes flapped down and joined them. He scanned the area, seeking their prey. The whole of the street running from the vizier’s palace visible at the far end to the glowing Dome of the Mughal’s Palace towering above was in a state of semi-collapse. Bells were ringing and torches flaring on the battlements. To the left and right he could see people peering from ruined houses, and even as he watched, more came down, amidst screams from those trapped within.

‘Brethren!’ Huriya called to the pack as they settled about her. She gestured furiously towards the Mughal’s Dome. ‘We must go on! The prize is here, right before us. We have lost many, but the ultimate goal is in reach and we
must no
t flinch now!’

He half-expected that they would tell her to piss off, that nothing was worth the trail of death she had led them to, but he underestimated the depth of longing the Dokken felt to escape their condition, for they obeyed instantly. Huriya looked back at him, at Wornu and Hessaz and the few left from the tunnel collapse who were fit to go on. ‘Come!’ she shouted at them, her eyes ablaze. She looked deranged to his eyes, unhinged, a figure of Lantric myth come to life: Luna, the Mad Queen of Heaven.