Sunlord (54 page)

"Capac!" sighed Ashian, swinging a leg over the bough
and pulling to an upright position.

Capac held a stout length of wood held like a
quarterstaff, ready to fend off any attack. "Keep moving!"

"Shaun's fallen."

Myshia dropped into sight. "He will live." There was
a tone of certainty in her voice, as if she knew what the future
held.

"Move out this way," commanded Capac, indicating
towards the end of the bough. "Time to change trees."

As the three climbed out footing became irregular and
uncertain. Thin flexible branches covered in narrow leaves replaced
the firm footholds near the trunk. Between Myshia and Capac, Ashian
focused his attention upon keeping his grip.

"Capac! Above you!"

The forester snapped around too late at Myshia's
warning. The k'lockri had dropped within striking distance and
easily fended off Capac's blow with one claw. Capac twisted the
makeshift staff in his hands, already knowing in his heart that the
creature's other claw would claim his life a moment later.

Powerful and vaguely familiar emotions surged within
Myshia. Some part of her mind was able to channel a little of the
raw flooding power, directing it as river banks would a flash
flood. Images snapped flashbulb quick in her mind's eye - the
birdman and the screams of a child before the searing heat of a
bonfire.

Howling sudden pain the k'lockri stumbled, knocked
about-face as the bolt of sparks disintegrated its claw. The beast
fell, the bloody stump outheld like an alien thing.

Ashian saw things only as a brief blur before the
narrow branch sagged and snapped beneath them. All three fell in
that one instant. Their climb had brought them out from the trunk
and they now fell through the leaves of a neighbouring tree.

Ashian was aware of the slapping branches against his
body, slowing his descent and gradually swinging his course closer
to the trunk of the other tree. He landed heavily upon his back,
drawing a grunt to his lips.

He lay still for a second, splayed hands questing
over the flat surface beneath. He had expected water, but it seemed
they had fallen on a vast slab of ancient, carved stone.

Soon after there came a second thump, and Ashian knew
that Capac had fallen close by. Myshia hit the slab moments after -
managing to land upon both feet and retain her balance.

"What the hell is this?" growled Capac, picking
himself up. He stepped backwards, eyes glued to the worn but still
distinguishable cyclic patterns engraved deeply upon the stone.
Ashian's hail attracted his attention away.

"Over here. There's an opening."

Exchanging confused gestures, Capac and Myshia
hurried over to the currach's side. As they moved they kept a wary
eye on the surroundings, knowing that the k'lockri would be sure to
catch up with them soon. Ashian knelt before a low mound of rubble
where a tree root had burrowed through the stone. Giving
reluctantly to the ravages of time, the stone had crumbled away
under the power of the growing purple-leaved vegetation.

"These markings, they look familiar." Ashian bent
closer and traced a finger along the badly damaged hieroglyphics.
"I'd say this was once a temple of the Ansarii. I've never seen
their writing so well preserved."

"Fascinating." Capac's tone suggested that he had
concerns elsewhere as he hunkered down and put his back against a
smaller of the boulders. "I think we may be able to get through
here."

Ashian stepped back a little, allowing Capac room to
roll the boulder free. His mind still awed with the chance
discovery it took a direct command from Capac to snap out of his
stupor.

"Currach! Give me a hand here or we'll be k'lockri
meat."

Still mumbling intellectual ravings Ashian dug his
nails into the porous rock and aided Capac to lever it away. Myshia
picked up the quarterstaff Capac had dropped and rammed it
downwards to further open the cavity. A few seconds later they had
cleared enough debris away to see darkness below. The temple was
obviously a below-ground structure - but just how deep it reached
was anyone's guess. Capac picked up a small pebble at his feet and
dropped it into the hole. They waited in tense silence as
incredibly long moments passed before, finally, the resulting
splash came distant and faint.

"It's a cavern." The forester's eyes narrowed as he
gazed into the well of blackness. "The water at the bottom is
shallow."

Ashian cast a quick glance at the misty forest,
knowing there was nowhere they could run from the combined threat
of pyrons and k'lockri. "Do we have a choice?"

Nodding, Capac readied himself. Feet either side of
the ragged hole, he paused, suddenly shocked to the core at
Myshia's growing expression of pain. Ashian was there in an
instant, flinching instinctively as he felt Myshia's flesh was as
cold as ice.

"That place reeks of power." Myshia drew her hands
across her cheeks harshly, as if pain could pull away the strange
sensation settling in her mind. "It's the Ansarii - they are the
source of my power."

Ashian took a step backwards. The Ansarii was the
name given to the ancients who had dwelled upon the earth many
thousands of millennia ago. A few strange artefacts had been
discovered and documented by currach scientists but many mysteries
shrouded the Ansarii. Apart from a ruins scattered about the county
there was absolutely nothing known about the strange, almost alien
race.

A distant keening wail snapped his mind alert. Ashian
knew that if they did not take cover within seconds the k'lockri
would discover their scent once more. He whipped around and met
Capac's gaze. Holding it for a moment, Ashian nodded firmly.

Filling his lungs with a deep breath Capac balanced
his weight over the edge and leaned forward. The next moment he
disappeared, falling feet first through the unknown.

Ashian turned to Myshia. She smiled reluctantly, a
gesture the currach had not seen for days that instantly warmed his
heart. Myshia started forward and sat upon the lip of the hole,
legs dangling in.

As if caught by a sudden grasp she looked upwards,
teeth clenched. "It's so cold."

Ashian was torn by fear of both the unknown in the
temple and the beasts in the swamp. A closer shriek echoed through
the fog, and in that instant Ashian knew there was only one
choice.

"Go," he said simply.

Myshia dropped without another word. Blinking, Ashian
realised he was alone. It took a few precious seconds to scramble
towards the hole. Suddenly a thought stuck him.

What if there were pyrons in the temple?

His heart beating wildly in his ears Ashian edged
closer, finding he did not have the courage to throw himself
through. Perhaps he could try and find Shaun, he thought. He
couldn't be far away.

But in his mind Ashian knew that such an effort would
be futile: he would last no longer in the swamp than they had in
the trees. They had tried calling for Shaun, but there had been no
answer. All logic pointed to the only escape route yet still the
currach hesitated. Something did not settle right in his stomach
and he could do nothing but watch his iron-bound form wait as
seconds ticked past. His legs were in the hole, the air stuffy, the
rock gritty and ancient beneath his palms.

Claws clacking against rock brought his head about as
a k'lockri landed, crouching like a spider before breaking into a
sprint. The beast ran upon all fours, clicking a tattoo like a
galloping horse. The sight startled Ashian into action and he
pushed forward into the cavern.

Gravity snatched hold of his body and pulled with
surprising severity. Hands outstretched to ward off passing rocks
he fell, pinwheeling arms as he tumbled. Foul air rushed up his
nasal cavities, the air coal black and cold. Ashian tried to scream
but he found his lungs were empty of air - and he could only hold
his heart in mid-beat as he fell faster and faster...

Landing came unexpectedly. His left ankle twisted
sharply and gave way and his side hit water. The water was shallow,
as Capac had predicated, and littered with sunken boulders. A blow
caught the currach across the back and his neck snapped forward,
his arms raised protectively.

It seemed an eternity before conscious cleared.
Coughing, wincing as he felt bruises along the lengths of his
forearms and shins, Ashian struggled upright. Ashian blinked hard
in a futile effort to detect light, but even the opening through
which he had fallen was the merest of pinpricks way above.

The sounds of movement momentarily startled him
before he realised it was either Capac or Myshia emerging from the
knee-deep water.

"Capac?" he tried.

"No, it's me," came Myshia's voice from the intense
blackness. Her voice was hollow and distracted. "I think I'm
alright."

"Where is Capac?"

"Here." Rhythmic splashes approached as Capac
stumbled forward through uncertain terrain. "It seemed we made it
okay."

Ashian moved closer to the voice, reaching out to
touch Capac's chest to reassure himself that the voices were not
emanating from empty space. With his other hand he quested in the
darkness, fingers splayed until he found Myshia's hand. He then
drew his companions closer together, speaking in a whisper, a
little awed at the echoes his voice threw from the obliviously huge
cavern. "We've got to stay close. If we lose each other in this
darkness we'll never find each other again."

Capac grunted an affirmative. "Who knows how the
Ansarii constructed their temples - there could be a thousand
catacombs under our feet."

The implications of this comment struck home. Ashian
knew no intact Ansarii constructions had ever been discovered; all
were levelled mounds of rubble destroyed by time. This structure,
hidden deep within the swamp, had survived the countless ages. Who
knew what secrets she held intact.

"This water stinks." Ashian reached down and scooped
a little of the cold, slightly viscous liquid in the palm of his
hand. "Undrinkable. We'd better find a way out before we die of
thirst."

A noise made Capac spin and crouch, calling for the
others to be silent. His command was instantly obeyed, and in the
deathly silence the sound of something scrambling over the rocks
came again. Its scampering motions disrupted pebbles, making a
tinkling noise as they bounced down and finally plonked into the
shallow water, echoing about the entire cavern.

"What do you think it is?" whispered Ashian, still
crouched over and not daring to move, the dark water dripping from
between frozen fingers.

"We need a light." In the inky blackness Capac
removed his outer tunic and, guided by touch alone, began to tear
the woven fibre into strips. He had managed to retain the stick he
had used as a staff, and wrapped the fabric around the end of it.
He tore off strips that had not fallen into the water, retaining
those only slightly damp under his fingers. He moved quickly and
silently, keeping a keen ear cocked but the creature advanced no
further.

"Do you think the k'lockri managed to get in here?"
Ashian's voice rang with traces of fear and uncertainty as he faced
the unknown threat.

"If this will light we'll soon find out." Capac
fumbled with the drawstrings on the pouch strapped to his waist.
Opening the small pouch he withdrew two rocks of about size and
length of his little finger. The flint was a tool used often by
hunters in the forest and was as much a part of him as his knife,
used in lighting fires to cook food, for warmth, or to chase game
towards traps. Holding these specially crafted rocks in the palms
of his four-fingered hands he drew them sharply together.

Ashian fell back, blinking as dazzling afterimages
flashed on the insides of his eyelids. The spark Capac had created
had seemed as bright as the sun to the currach's sensitive dilated
pupils, but it had died quickly. Capac scowled as the sparks faded
into lifelessness. He drew the rocks together again grumbling,
"This is not going to w-"

The end of the stick held between Capac's legs
suddenly burst in ferocious life. Flame licked hungrily over the
bunched rag, devouring it. Instantly all fell back, and only
Capac's quick reaction arrested the reflex to drop the burning
torch into the water.

The darkness fell away into sharp shadows like an
army retreating behind the cover of pillars of rock. Ashian's
currach eyes adjusted in time to see a small furry animal scurry
away in fright, its tiny clawed feet skidding over the
half-submerged rubble in its haste.

Ashian doubled over and laughed. It took Capac and
Myshia a second to catch on and soon they too joined in the
laughter. Capac watched the mouse-like creature dart into what was
apparently its burrow. The skidding and plonking of pebbles seemed
insignificant, whereas in the darkness their imagination had
twisted it into something more sinister.

"Looks like we survived that one," grinned Ashian,
regaining his breath. He looked up, and returned Myshia's smile.
Winking slyly, he said, "That Abas we've got Capac to protect us
from those things."

"You'd better believe it," Capac in mock
severity.

Weak with exhaustion Ashian sunk his back against a
large boulder and exhaled a heavy sigh. Every inch of his flesh
hurt with bruises and scratches but it seemed he had avoided major
injures. These thoughts lead him to his companions, and remembered
abruptly his companion who had fallen.

"Shaun." Ashian sat bolt upright. "Do you think we
can find him?"

* * *

Evening was falling upon the swamp.

Shaun shuffled sideways in the cramped confines of
the hollow and peered out the narrow gap between two roots. He
could see the mists darken upon the water as the greyness slowly
turned into darkness. He held the minigun across his lap, primed
with the safety off. The pyrons had attacked him three times, their
powerful jaws ramming against the small opening. A quick blast from
the minigun directly down its gullet had persuaded the reptile to
move away, blood gushing from a wound that exited the back of its
wedge shaped head, but Shaun knew the rest still lurked out of
reach, waiting with a patience only a predator can have.