Reign of Ash (49 page)

“I’ll test the path to the right,” he said warily. He threw his cloak over one shoulder and arm to protect him as much as possible from the thorns. Connor worked his way past the blades, which shaved a few threads off the edge of his cloak as he passed. “Damn, they’re sharp,” he muttered.

The shadows and the blades hid Connor from sight, but Blaine could hear Connor’s footsteps crunching on the rock for several steps, then silence. “What’s happening?” Blaine called out.

“There’s a second set of blades,” Connor said, “set vertically in the ground like the first ones. I imagine that’s for any poor, overconfident blighter who makes it through the first set and starts to move ahead in a rush,” he said with a grimace. “There’s room for you to edge to the left and make your way down the far side along the hedge. Watch for the dust.” He paused. “Then get as low as you can – there’s a single wire set at neck height, sharp as a razor. Be careful,” he added ruefully. “I lost some hair ducking under that one.”

Blaine was the next to go. It was a tight fit between the last blade and the vicious thorns that tore at the fabric of his cloak and raised bloody scratches on his arms. Despite his best efforts, his shoulder rubbed some of the dust from the blade in passing. “Throw more dust once I’m through,” he called back. “You’ll have to do it after every person to see your way.”

Blaine eyed the blades warily. He could not guess what they were made of. They had the thin, razor-sharp edge of an obsidian blade but the strength of steel, like a finely honed sword.
They’re a nasty piece of work
, he thought.

When they had gathered on the far side of the blades, Blaine looked to Connor. “Glad to have you along,” he said with a tired grin. “I’d have hated to run into those without warning.”

He paused and looked down the next corridor of the maze. The sun was past the midpoint, and the shadows were getting longer. “What next?”

Connor stared into the shadows, and Blaine wondered if he saw more than he let on. “Another remembered warning: We must cheat death.”

C
onnor made his way through the maze, mindful of the lengthening afternoon shadows. The thought of spending a night in the maze was disquieting.
Then again, we have no idea what is waiting for us on the other side
, he thought.
Compared to that, the maze may seem friendly and safe.

The others followed him through the maze, and Connor felt a crushing weight of responsibility for their safety. As he passed specific points, Quintrel’s hidden memories surfaced randomly, popping unbidden into his head but denying him the security of being able to formulate a plan. Penhallow’s presence was silent during the day. The Wraith Lord, no longer constrained by day and night as a passenger in his mind, was a more consistent voice than either Quintrel’s or Penhallow’s, though he spoke when it suited him and did not seem to feel obligated to answer Connor’s questions.

How in Raka did I end up as the point man?
he wondered.
They’re all depending on me. Gods above! Before the Great Fire, I would have said that anyone who heard voices in his mind was insane, and now I’ve got two vampires and a mage rattling round in my brain, speaking up when they please and doling out bits and pieces at their leisure.

The mountain air had been crisp by day; as night approached, the wind’s bite grew sharper. Connor drew his cloak around him, but that did nothing to shield his face and hands. They had brought the bare minimum of supplies with them, leaving behind their tents and extra blankets with the horses. The prospect of a cold night was not appealing.

“We’ll have to light lanterns before much longer,” Blaine said. “Any idea how much more of the maze there is to navigate?”

Connor shrugged. His mood was grim. “I’m afraid Quintrel’s memories don’t trigger until there’s a landmark, so I don’t know about it until I see it.”

Lowrey, who had stayed close to the front throughout the maze, nodded. “I’ve been marking down our path as we go, just in case we have to leave the way we came. If the maze holds to the familiar pattern, we should be nearly through. Not much farther until we’re out.” Zaryae slipped up beside Blaine so quietly he had not noticed until she spoke. “My dreams warn me that we will pay a price. I don’t know exactly what that means, but I take the warning seriously.” Grief was heavy in her voice, as if the loss had already occurred.

Blaine considered her warning for a moment before he spoke. “Is what you’ve seen certain? There isn’t a possibility that circumstances could change the outcome?”

He could see the grief in Zaryae’s dark eyes. “Perhaps. But I have found that the harder we try to avoid an outcome, the more certain it becomes.”

More of the maze was shrouded in shadow as the sun moved west. The high thornbushes loomed large and menacing. Wicked-looking, inch-long thorns protruded from gnarled wooden stems that tangled around each other to form an impenetrable wall. Even Borya and Desya held no illusions about being able to climb the maze.

They turned right, and the maze passageway grew much narrower. The walkway was almost completely dark. Piran moved to go forward, but Connor thrust out an arm, blocking him.

“Wait,” he said abruptly. He drew his sword and slashed at the darkness. There was a metallic ring as his blade struck something.

“What in Raka is that?” Piran demanded as Connor raised his lantern. A dull gleam reflected light, and Connor pressed at the area with his sword, exposing a thin, sharp wire fastened across the walkway at a height that would take the average man through the throat.

“More wire,” Connor said with a grimace.

“Blimey,” Verran said and swallowed hard, his hand going to his neck. “That’d take a bloke’s head right off.”

Connor nodded grimly. “Aye. And it may not be the only one. Keep your eyes open.”

The narrow passageway allowed only one person at a time to pass without being snagged by the long thorns. Connor led the way, testing the air in front of him at every step with his sword. Three more wire traps blocked the passage before the walkway widened.

“We should be close to the end,” Blaine observed. “We’re far beyond what Desya was able to see from the start.” They stopped for a moment, and Kestel studied the rough pattern Desya had sketched earlier in the day.

Connor paused as if listening to a voice only he could hear. “There’s a new warning,” he said, and his tone made the others look toward him.

“What’s that?” Blaine asked.

Connor met his gaze. “‘Beware the hunters in the maze. After dark, all become prey,’” he repeated from the clue Quintrel had planted in his memory. He sighed. “Apparently, there are things that live in the maze – more of Zaryae’s ‘shadows.’ They come out after dark. We don’t want to meet them.”

Piran exploded with curses. “Well that’s just bloody lovely, now, isn’t it? And I’m betting these ‘things’ aren’t friendly little puppy dogs, are they?”

“Probably not,” Kestel observed dryly. “And I’d rather not find out what they are. So let’s keep going.”

Verran cast a nervous glance over one shoulder. “I could swear I heard something growling in the bushes.”

Piran opened his mouth to make a sarcastic retort but just then, an unmistakable and unfriendly growl sounded from somewhere behind them in the tangled thorns. “Let’s get out of here,” Piran said, drawing his sword.

We’ve only conquered two Guardians
, Connor thought.
If the Knights were right, we have two more to go.

Blaine looked back at the maze and eyed the cliffs above them, searching.

“See something?” Kestel asked. The archers also looked skyward, although nothing was visible on the canyon rim.

Blaine shook his head. “No. But I can’t shake the feeling that we’re being watched.”

Deep in the canyon, the shadows were long and much of the pathway was in shadow. They walked farther, weapons at the ready. When the canyon widened again, they found themselves facing rows of cairns.

“I don’t like the look of that,” Lowrey murmured. “Those are old graves. I didn’t have any ability with death magic, but I knew mages who did, and they swore that old graves were powerful – and dangerous.”

“What was Nidhud’s riddle?” Kestel said. “‘Blood is the coin to pass among the shadows. Narrow is the path through the flames.’” She frowned. “If that refers to the next two Guardians, it doesn’t sound like fun.”

Zaryae moved to the front of the group and pulled at Connor’s sleeve. “Can you feel the spirits?”

Connor nodded. “They’re waiting.”

Piran gave a skeptical look toward the grave mounds. “There are ghosts, aren’t there?”

“And they’re angry,” Zaryae replied. “They don’t want us to pass.” She paused. “This could be tricky, since Connor is a medium.”

Blaine looked to Connor. “Now what?”

Connor let out a long breath.
The fate of the entire party rests with me, and because of Blaine, the fate of magic itself. No pressure at all.

Before he could answer, a voice in his head spoke to him, and he recognized the presence of the Wraith Lord.
You’ll need my help
, he said.
The spirits will be more likely to defer to me.

With a sigh, Connor nodded his assent.
If you can help us get through here alive, then use me.

I cannot promise that you all will live, but I will do everything in my power to protect you
, the Wraith Lord replied.

Blaine frowned as if he noticed a change had taken place, and Connor felt the rush of power that coincided with possession by the vampire’s ancient spirit.

“We will go first,” Connor said. He noticed that everyone was looking at him as if trying to figure out what was different.

“Am I addressing the Wraith Lord?” Kestel asked, and Connor saw concern on her face as she searched his gaze.

“Yes.”

“By ‘we’ you mean you – and Connor?”

“Yes.”

“Be careful with him,” Kestel admonished. “We’d like him back in good condition.”

The Wraith Lord’s laughter was a rich, rolling thunder in Connor’s mind. “I have already given Lord Penhallow my word to that effect, but I will also give it to you, m’lady,” the Wraith Lord replied.

Kestel looked askance at him but merely nodded. The others stepped back, giving way for Connor to move toward the cairns.

This area of the canyon was wide, filled with more cairns than Connor could quickly count. At least a hundred, he guessed, maybe more. Connor felt a smothering press of spirits, legions of grim-faced specters awaiting his entrance. Some stood near their tombs while others floated nearby. And all of them were staring straight at him.

A circle of stones on the ground indicated the boundaries of the cairns and signified where a warding had been cast. When Connor stepped across the stones, he felt a crushing weight of ominous power as if the air itself had become thick and heavy. The spirits left their places and swirled around him, and the air became far colder than the winter wind. Connor felt the heat leeching from his body, as if the spirits were drawing away his life and soul.

As the ghosts rushed toward Connor, he could sense their hunger. They descended on him like a cloud, and the strongest spirits forced themselves into his consciousness.
Sweet Esthrane
, Connor thought.
They’re fighting over who can possess me!

I’m with you now. I’ll handle this
, the Wraith Lord murmured to Connor.

Connor felt the Wraith Lord’s presence fill him completely, forcing his consciousness to a small corner of his mind. The spirits of the cairns shrieked as they fled to a safe distance, where they withdrew to watch balefully as Connor walked into their midst.

“Enough!” the Wraith Lord roared. “You will allow me and my party to pass uninjured among your cairns.”

The spirits had pulled back, enough so that Connor no longer felt as if they were drawing the breath from his body. But they circled hungrily, like wolves around prey, and Connor was painfully aware that the only thing holding them at bay was the Wraith Lord’s presence, a presence that could not long be sustained.

What a choice. Allow the Wraith Lord’s possession and burn alive. Lose his power and be sucked dry by vengeful spirits
, Connor thought.

“You are no longer among the living,” one of the spirits challenged in a voice like the rustle of wind through dry branches. He was dressed as a soldier, in an old style of uniform. His ghost was dark and menacing and looked at Connor with unconcealed malice.

“A sacrifice must be given,” another spirit said. “We must have blood to allow any to pass. Those are the rules of the Guardians.”

“The medium whose body carries your spirit can’t sustain you forever,” the soldier’s spirit said, smiling unpleasantly. “If we detain you long enough, we’re sure to have the blood we require.”

Connor felt the ghosts gather once more, massing like a thunderhead. The spirits swelled toward him, smothering him. Their raw power rivaled that of the ocean. For an instant, Connor was overwhelmed by the memory of nearly drowning in the icy seawaters off the Edgeland coast. He gasped for air. The press of the spirits plunged him into a cloud of freezing mist, cold enough to offset the warmth of the Wraith Lord’s possession.
There are too many of them
, Connor thought.
I’m going to die.

Connor felt the Wraith Lord’s spirit well up inside him. This time, he did more than fling the ravenous ghosts away. Connor felt the Wraith Lord’s essence extend beyond the confines of his body like a glowing aura. He might be bound by constraints among the living, but here in the realm of the dead, his power was unfettered.

Every spirit touched by the Wraith Lord’s aura shrieked in terror and screamed in pain. The Wraith Lord burned away the cold, flashing across the cairns like lightning without ever losing his hold on Connor. It happened in the blink of an eye, but when it was over, the spirits had drawn back against their cairns, cowed and trembling.

“I am changing your rules.” Whether or not the others could see it, Connor felt as if his whole form glowed with the indomitable will of the Wraith Lord.

“I am
talishte
. I was a patron and protector of the Knights of Esthrane. You were put here by the Knights, and I can sweep you into oblivion if you have outlasted your usefulness.

“Say now what you will do,” the Wraith Lord continued. “May my party pass unharmed, or will you go to Raka by my hand?” The
talishte
’s voice seemed to echo from the cliff sides, deafeningly loud. The power that filled his body made it difficult to breathe, and Connor felt as if he would collapse with fever.

I might not be around for the fourth Guardian
, Connor thought, trying to hang on to the shred of consciousness that belonged to him. The spirits shrank back at the ferocity of the Wraith Lord’s ultimatum. One by one, the ghosts sank to their knees.

“We will yield,” the ghost soldier said. “Forgive us, my lord. We did not recognize you.”

“Allow us to pass,” the Wraith Lord commanded. Around him a corridor cleared as the specters drew back.