Secrets of the Stonechaser (The Law of Eight Book 1) (34 page)

BOOK: Secrets of the Stonechaser (The Law of Eight Book 1)
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“Very well,” Qabala said. “You are not the only one in the world who can read faery runes. I will tell Nerris you died bravely. Not that it matters in a world such as this.”

The lashing began again, much fiercer and faster this time. Len-Ahl’s head swam with pain as she sobbed and screamed. Her legs soon gave out again, and colored spots danced before her eyes.

As much as she could, Len-Ahl kept her thoughts on Nerris. She wanted to apologize for everything she had put him through, and feel the touch of his hands one more time. A commotion sounded behind her, causing Qabala to let up with the knovim. Len-Ahl tried to raise her head, but her strength finally failed her and she slumped forward. Her mind went blank as consciousness abandoned her.

Chapter Thirty-Four

NERRIS AND DIST crashed to the dirt as their cell door clanged shut in front of them. Nerris swore out loud, calling Qabala any manner of unsavory name he could think of, but her footsteps soon dimmed. His head swam as he contemplated what to do. Len-Ahl was weakened. Even if he had not seen it in the gauntness of her body, he knew what extended stays in dungeons could do, especially to someone unused to foul treatment. Len-Ahl would not last long in King Lahnen’s torture chamber. In fact, there was a good chance she would not survive at all.

He was vaguely aware of Dist swearing alongside him, but as Nerris let his mind work he clamped down on his friend’s mouth. “Not a sound,” he told Dist. “Remember what we did in the dungeon at Lake Oro?”

Dist shoved his hand away. “You want me to pretend I’m knocked out?”

“Like when we were caught by King Andoren’s guards.”

“Nerris, that didn’t even work the first time!”

Nerris motioned for him to be quiet as he heard the gaoler rattling his keys outside. Dist sighed and lay on the floor, maneuvering into a tactically sound position and shutting his eyes. Nerris got to his feet as the door opened and two of Qabala’s guards entered the cell. They barely inspected Dist’s limp body before leveling their spears at Nerris’s chest. He spread his hands.

“Come with us,” one of them growled.

The other guard moved behind Nerris. Unfortunately, he wandered in reach of Dist. One foot shot up to connect with the guard’s groin. The man cried out, dropping his spear. Nerris wasted no time in darting around the side of the other guard and snatching the spear out of his hands. In one motion, Nerris spun behind the sentry and drove into him with his shoulder. He caught the man off balance, and he tumbled into his comrade, sending them both to the floor.

Nerris drove the spear into the guard’s back as Dist raced to his feet and caught the gaoler before he could flee, throwing him against the corridor wall. The guard on the bottom of the pile scrambled for his saber, but Nerris moved faster. He drove his boot into the man’s throat, and the guard gasped and choked. Nerris took the saber and finished him. He drew the other guard’s blade and rushed into the corridor, where Dist still had the gaoler pinned against the wall.

“Keys,” Nerris said. “Now!”

The gaoler fumbled for his keys, which were attached to an iron ring, gibbering in fear the entire time. “You’re going to show us which keys go to which doors,” Dist said. He pointed to Jhareth’s cell. “Starting with this one.”

Two more guards entered the corridor and took in what was happening. With a shout, they drew their sabers as the gaoler unlocked the door. It swung open, and Jhareth flew past them with agility which even startled Nerris. He danced out of the way of an arcing slash and brought his foot up, kicking the man in the helm before he could recover.

The other guard swung at him, but Nerris had taken point by then. He blocked the swipe with one saber and slashed the man’s throat with the other. Blood flew, and the guard collapsed on top of his unconscious companion.

“So, is our riot still on?” Jhareth asked.

“We’ll need the distraction now more than ever,” Nerris said. “And you’ll need the run of the Aeternica to secure some transportation.”

“I take it there’s a plan somewhere in there?” Surnal’s voice said.

Nerris turned around and got his first look at the Nateus of the Earth Clerics. He was middle-aged and tall, with shaggy brown hair and the bedraggled appearance of a heavyset man who had lost a lot of weight in a very short time. Scars and bruises marred his face, and he had bags under his eyes.

“Nateus Surnal,” Nerris said, “you said there were men waiting for you in the forest to the south. Are you positive about that?”

Surnal nodded. “I would stake my life on it.”

“You’re going to have to.” Nerris turned to Jhareth. “Take Surnal and find a cart for us. If Qabala hurts Len-Ahl, she won’t be able to ride a horse. Bring the gaoler and unlock as many cells as you can along the way. Meet us at the stables.”

“How are we getting out of the Aeternica?” Jhareth asked.

“It’s daylight, and the gate should be open,” Nerris said. “If the castle guards are called down here to quell the riot, we should be able to bust through.”

“Then what?”

“Then we get out of the city and run like hell. Just like our plan before.”

Jhareth rolled his eyes. “I always thought running was what you did when a plan failed.”

Nerris smiled. “Dist, with me.”

He tossed a saber to his blond friend, and Dist caught it by the hilt. “What about the medallion?”

“Qabala was wearing it,” Nerris said. “She has my sword too. When we get to the Fury Pit, let me handle her.”

“I thought you said she couldn’t be killed.”

“I’ll think of something.”

Dist grunted, taking a few practice swipes with his blade, and rubbed at his temple. “Just as well. I want that big bastard anyway.”

Jhareth helped himself to the guards’ daggers and took custody of the gaoler from Dist. At that, the two groups went their separate ways. Jhareth and Surnal took a corridor to the right, toward the blocks where most of the prisoners were kept. Nerris and Dist’s path went straight ahead, down into the depths of the earth.

“Do you know where you’re going?” Dist asked.

“The last time I enjoyed Qabala’s hospitality my cell was down this way,” Nerris responded.

They killed any guards they came across, and Nerris found himself having to adjust from the blade he was used to. The saber was heavier, and made for use with one hand. Dist cut through his foes with brutal efficiency, and even impressed Nerris. Dist did not often use a blade, but he obviously kept in practice.

A chilling scream pierced the dank air, and Nerris’s blood froze. It was Len-Ahl he heard, and he raced ahead, barely aware of Dist keeping up behind him. This part of the dungeon more resembled a cave, with organic surroundings and sparse light. The screaming continued, and each one tore at Nerris’s heart. They finally came to a broken-down door, and he could hear Len-Ahl’s crying and Qabala’s shouting clear as day on the other side. Nerris’s muscles tightened in rage.

Dist put a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s go together.”

Nerris nodded and took a deep breath. “Kick that door in, Dist.”

Dist grinned and rushed forward. The old wood snapped under the weight of his boot, clearing the threshold of any barrier. As Nerris rushed in, he heard Falares swear and draw his sword from the far side of the room. Qabala whipped around, her cloak whirling in the torchlight. She held a bloody knovim in her hand, and her eyes widened when she saw Nerris.

He looked past her and saw Len-Ahl shackled to an upright table, her back to him. Blood ran in rivulets down her nude body, which hung limp from her bonds. Nerris blinked back tears at the sight, and brandished his saber at Qabala as she dropped the knovim and drew a gleaming, curved sword. Nerris recognized it. She held Noruken.

Dist sprinted forward with a roar, and Falares barely got his blade up in time to meet him. As the two warriors disappeared from his line of sight, Nerris turned his focus to his former lover. “It’s over, Qabala,” he said. “What you have done here makes you dead to me. Len-Ahl never hurt anyone.”

“She stole you from me,” Qabala said. “You think that didn’t hurt, Nerris? You have no idea. You have
no
idea.”

Nerris choked back his rage and raised his blade. “Shut up and fight.”

“If that is what we have come to,” Qabala said. “So be it.”

She unleashed a blistering combination of strikes, giving Nerris little time to react. He brought his blade up to parry her strokes, and they danced the deadly dance across the length of the Fury Pit. The chorus of scraping metal added an angry harmony to Dist and Falares’s duel. Though he had been a part of her army, Nerris had never had the opportunity to see Qabala fight before. Her technique was superb, but her strikes clumsy. No doubt this was due to the blade she held. A katana was a two-handed weapon, but she used it like the saber she normally favored.

Nerris countered with some combinations of his own, and realized the absurdity of this fight. Qabala was holding back; despite everything that had happened, she had no intention of killing him, and Nerris was incapable of killing her. Still their blades clashed, the deadly dance seeming to grow a mind of its own.

He chanced a glance at Dist and Falares and was reminded of a cat toying with a mouse, except the mouse was holding his own. Dist realized he had no armor while Falares was garbed in the heavy plate of a Dume-General. He used his agility to dodge Falares’s strokes, striking whenever he thought he found a gap. However, Falares’s armor was intricately wrought, leaving little exposed, so Dist resorted to lashing out at the big man’s helmless face. For his part, Falares tried to maneuver Dist into a corner. If he could, one good strike from his huge sword would have split his friend up the middle. Dist was having none of it, though, and was content to keep sidling away from his foe to wear him out.

Qabala brought Noruken around and cleaved downward, but Nerris caught the blade with his saber. He stood there, locked in place with the woman who would be Aeterna. This could not go on forever. Qabala was stalling, and sooner or later guards would arrive and take them away again. As he pondered this, he missed Qabala’s fist coming toward his jaw.

She struck with more strength than Nerris would have expected from such a lithe frame, and he reeled from the blow. He backed into the rusty chain holding up the portcullis of one of the holding cells. The rattling of that chain gave him an idea.

Qabala moved in, but instead of meeting her stroke, he ducked under it and came up behind her. Qabala wheeled around, but Nerris caught her arm. He punched the hilt of his saber into her wrist, causing her to cry out. Noruken tumbled to the ground, and Nerris elbowed her in the face before she could recover. Now Qabala reeled back, and Nerris charged forward and drove his shoulder into her with all his strength.

He hit her so hard she seemed to fly backward into the holding cell. She landed on the ground with a hard thud, and Nerris picked up Noruken. Instead of pinning Qabala to the floor with it like he wanted to, he turned and struck the rusted chain. It snapped after one strike, and the portcullis fell.

Qabala was not quite fast enough in standing, and the portcullis trapped her inside. She grabbed the bars and screamed in rage as Nerris moved in. He reached through the gate and took hold of Jinn’s medallion. He yanked as hard as he could and easily broke the chain Qabala had used to fasten it around her neck.

“I think that concludes our business here,” he said.

“Damn you, Nerris,” Qabala said. “Even if you find the Elemental Stone, you can’t stop the oncoming storm. Eversor will grant me the power to strike you down.”

“Pray to your Tattered Man that we never meet again,” Nerris said. “I don’t know how, but the next time I’m in Palehorse, I will kill you.”

He turned away from Qabala’s shrieks and struck at the shackles holding Len-Ahl to the table. They parted as easily as the portcullis chain, and Len-Ahl slumped to the ground. Nerris took a tarp from a nearby torture device and wrapped her in it, pressing the fabric against her bleeding back.

He tucked Noruken into the back of his belt and cradled the frail girl in his arms. “Dist!”

Dist and Falares were still dueling, and Dist acknowledged him with a grunt. As Falares sent a side swipe which would have cut him in half, Dist dropped to the ground and rolled into his opponent’s legs. Falares tripped over him and fell headlong to the ground. Dist was up in an instant, but Falares flailed like an overturned turtle. With all that heavy armor, it would take him a moment to regain his feet.

“Time to leave,” Nerris said.

“How’s Len-Ahl?” Dist asked.

Nerris glanced at the half-faery’s face, which looked even more pale and wan than usual. He shook his head. “Not good.”

“Surnal is an earth cleric,” Dist said. “I’m sure his magic can help her.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Nerris and Dist fled the Fury Pit. As they wound their way through the corridors, they heard the ruckus of men shouting and steel clashing as the dungeon prisoners fought their captors. Behind them, Qabala still shrieked epithets, though Nerris could not hear what she said. All he cared about was getting Len-Ahl to safety. Qabala had done this to her because of him, and if she did not get to a healer soon, she would die from blood loss.

They passed the main block of the dungeon on their way to the surface, and Nerris saw the prisoners had taken to the riot with gusto. Some of the scraggly dungeon denizens had gotten a hold of weapons, and were overwhelming the guards who had come down to put a stop to it. He thought he saw Lukas Kord in his gleaming armor leading the charge, but he could not be sure.

With Len-Ahl in his arms, Nerris wasn’t much good for fighting, so Dist scouted ahead in order to avoid scuffles. When they reached the upper levels, they hid in the shadows as more guards and soldiers entered, rushing toward the riot. Dist had to slit a few throats, but they eventually left behind the damp rot of the dungeon.

They emerged into a courtyard, with blue sky above and fresh air all around. Nerris breathed it in gladly, but this was no time to celebrate. They had not won their freedom yet.

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