The Balance of Power (Godsland Series: Books Four, Five, and Six) (27 page)

Having been directly below where he was currently standing hundreds of times, he knew that there was no indication from below that this place even existed, yet a finely carved stone railing stood before him, giving him a commanding view of the God's Eye. Seeing the barges drifting in the water with no one on them gave Durin a terrible feeling in his gut. Something else nagged at his senses, but he couldn't place what it was; still, it bothered him deeply.

"We need to get Prios to Millie and Mirta," Strom said, "and they are in the kitchens. It looks like there's a hidden stair leading down from here to the keep-side entrance of the God's Eye. The way to the kitchens is most likely still blocked. As much as I hate to say it, I think we are going to have to go back down, and return the way we came."

"That way is longer," Trinda said.

Durin turned and gave her a look that clearly said he thought she was daft then began looking at the stones again. “Do you think the one with the straight lines will take us back where we started?"

The fact that Trinda was the only one likely to have a good answer was less than comforting. She refused to answer, though, and just turned away with a huff. In that moment, there came a splashing sound from below. A chill crept into Durin's blood, and he moved slowly to look over the ledge, doing his best to remain concealed. Strom and Trinda crept to the edge as well. What Durin saw brought him no comfort and confirmed their decision. Several black masses moved through the water then disappeared beneath the surface, leaving only a few ripples to give evidence that they ever existed.

Strom caught Durin's eye and motioned back to the cylindrical platform. Though he doubted the demons would hear them under water, Durin and the others remained silent. Trying to decide which stone to jump on, Durin considered the one with three concentric circles on it, and one with what looked like a fish on it. Strom looked at Durin and shrugged then made as if he were tossing coin. Going with his gut, Durin waited until Trinda was fully on the circular platform and stepped onto the stone with the straight lines on it. There was no hesitation this time, and it felt as if the stone moved with almost no resistance and would simply keep on falling. When it finally stopped, Durin stumbled from the suddenness of it. Then the entire cylinder began to slowly descend. This, Durin could deal with; he never again wanted to experience anything like their trips to the top of the mountain and down to the God's Eye. His guts still felt as if they had been tied in knots. When the platform slowed and stopped again, they stood in complete darkness. Light poured, then, from the herald globe that Trinda held. The way it lit her face made her look like a living sculpture, dainty and smooth.

Looking around, Trinda rolled her eyes at Durin. Dark halls stretched away for a short distance in two directions, but both passages had collapsed long ago and were completely blocked.

"Try again. We need to go back down and return the way we came," Strom said, and Prios stirred at his feet. "That is the only way that should be open to the kitchens."

"Open," Durin said, "because of us. The demons can get to everyone because of us. We should never have left them."

Strom nodded. "I know."

Trinda just looked at them both as if they were idiots then stepped on the stone tile that had what looked like snakes carved on it. Durin had never even considered stepping on that one for obvious reasons. The platform descended much more slowly before depositing them smoothly and gently in the room where they had started. With her arms over her chest, Trinda wore a smug look.

Prios moaned and put his hand on his head. His eyes came slowly open.

"Can you stand?" Strom asked.

Prios nodded, slowly, cautiously. He made a motion that let Strom know he needed a moment longer, and Durin could see his chest expanding and contracting for a series of deep breaths. Then he extended his hand, and Strom helped him up. Prios looked around, a question clear on his face:
Sinjin?

Strom shook his head and laid a compassionate hand on Prios' shoulder. A tear fell from the man's eye, but then granite resolve settled over him. With a firm nod, he turned back to Strom and motioned for them to get moving.

Durin walked forward without a word, Trinda at his side. Neither spoke. Uncomfortable silence stretched as Trinda's instincts led the way. Prios looked at the girl on occasion, a puzzled expression on his face, but he made no move to communicate further. Durin always marveled at Prios's ability to communicate without words, and knowing he could do so at any time made his silence all the more poignant.

A look at Strom revealed his thoughts. The big man walked with his shoulders hunched and his head down. Durin felt bad for him, knowing that all of this was really his fault and that he had just dragged Strom into it. If he'd never told anyone about making the keep move, they wouldn't be in this mess. Then there was the fact that he'd made the keep move in the first place. Durin guessed that his silence was pretty easy for the others to figure out. It pained him that his loved ones were endangered because of him. His first mistake may have been the result of laziness, but the second truly was the result of his desire to help everyone.

Now he'd just gone and made everything worse. He wasn't really certain how he could have made things any worse until they had traveled beyond the underground river and plain and were nearing the halls that would take them back to the kitchens. There they met a peculiar sight: water flowed out of the halls. Water, Durin thought. One of those tiles had had water on it. A cold feeling grew in his gut until they reached the room where he and Strom had poured wine and pickle juice into the glowing rune, which had caused the hold to move and the passage behind them to open. Once there, he could clearly hear Miss Mariss cursing the name of the person responsible for all this water.

"When those fools get back, I'll wring their necks."

Prios looked at Strom and Durin, put his hand on his forehead, and shook his head. Trinda did something he wasn't certain he'd ever seen her do before: she smiled. It was a wicked little smile, and there was no warmth in it. It was very clear that this smile was at Durin's expense. Considerable effort had been put into keeping the runes dry, but most of the water flowed to the far side of the hall. Durin suspected this was part of the ancients' design, and he marveled, once again, at what those people had accomplished. He could not imagine how they had done it all, or even for what purpose, but their mastery was clear.

Prios stepped to the front and led them to the kitchens. When Miss Mariss saw him, her face drained of color. "Get Millie," she said. "Prios is hurt, and…"

Her words fell away when she saw Durin and Strom standing behind Prios. "Which one of you is responsible for all this water?"

No one said anything, but Trinda smiled and pointed at Durin.

"Thanks," Durin said.

"I should have known," Miss Mariss said with clear exasperation. "In fact, I did know. You just confirmed it. Well, I don't care what you have to do, but you go back there and
turn it off.
Do you understand me? Don't do anything else. Don't try to save us, please, whatever you do."

Durin didn't bother to argue. Instead he just said, "Yes, ma'am."

"It wasn't the boy's fault," Strom said. Miss Mariss wheeled on him, but he held firm. "Trinda told him to jump on the tile with mountains on it, and he jumped onto the one with waves instead. It was an honest mistake."

Durin looked up, surprised by Strom's words, even if they were true. Miss Mariss just took a deep breath and sighed. "Fine. Can't say as I completely understand what that means, but I won't be angry with him for the moment, at least not for that. Fair enough? Now go."

Oddly it made Durin feel much better.

After being forced into a chair by Miss Mariss, Prios looked up to Strom. His eyes conveyed his thoughts. Sinjin was his only concern, and Strom wished he could go with Prios. Torn, Strom also needed to get Durin back to the right place to turn off the water. He wasn't even sure how they would know if they had done it or not without coming all the way back to check, but he really didn't have any other choice. He couldn't expect Durin to go alone because all of this was partially his fault.

Moving his head and his eyes to one side, Prios might as well have said, "Go."

Only a nod was exchanged between them after that; everything was understood. Strom hoped they would meet again.

* * *

Familiar smells invaded Catrin's slumber. She'd been here before, all this had happened before, only this time was different. Again, there were Arghast outside her tent, waiting to serve her, but this time they needed no proof of who she was. Catrin was different this time; she, too, no longer needed proof of who she was. She was the most powerful person in the world, and it no longer terrified her; instead it filled her with resolve. She knew what must be done, and she steeled herself to the necessity of it.

Her stomach growling, Catrin could no longer resist the smell of food, and she pulled aside the tent flap. The muted hush turned to absolute silence, save the occasional rattle of harness. The last time she'd stood before the Arghast, there had been more of them. Catrin had asked them then to protect her and her people. She couldn't help but feel that her request was the reason there were now fewer Arghast. Part of her knew that some were probably still within Dragonhold, but that did not account for the stark contrast in their numbers, and Catrin's mood would not allow for justification. She must choose her words wisely, or the regent dragons might not be the only ones to fade from existence.

The Arghast, since they had become convinced of her power, had been the staunchest of allies and had risked everything for her. They came close to worshipping her. Though she wanted nothing of the sort, she had never tried to discourage it since doing so would inherently reduce her influence over them. Kyrien, too, they worshipped, and in some ways, they showed him even greater respect, which suited Catrin fine. Even as the assembled crowed gathered before her, a host of Arghast were hard at work scrubbing Kyrien's scales and claws. Her concern for him lessened when he spoke in her mind.

This is not at all unpleasant.

If not for the assembled throng, Catrin would have laughed, but she suppressed her mirth, knowing the Arghast did not always understand her. "Thank you, mighty tribes of Arghast. You have once again come to my aid, and I am grateful. And my most noble steed and companion, Kyrien, is also in your debt." These words rolled over the Arghast like wildfire, and the assemblage hooted and raised a hearty cry. It seemed the Arghast did not want the Herald of Istra to have to ask for food, as she had so many years ago. Men and women rushed forward and offered her a dazzling variety of food, many of which Catrin remembered and had even dreamed of. She reached first, almost involuntarily, to a cake made of roasted nuts, honey, and partially dried fruit. It tasted even more wonderful than she remembered. When someone brought her a leather of desert mist, Catrin thought of Mika, and she sent blessings to the spirit of her old friend. He had been instrumental in her negotiations with the tribes. They were a difficult people to understand. At times they groveled before her, and at other times it seemed they made impossible demands of her, demands beyond her ability to satisfy.

"We have cared for you and your dragon," the man Catrin now recognized as Malluke of the Horse clan said. "Is there anything more that you require of us?"

It seemed an innocent enough question, but Catrin knew better. There would be a price. They would ask her to teach them to fly.

"Do you have any straw?"

The question caught Malluke by surprise. After a moment, he nodded.

"Do you have enough to make a stack as big around as Kyrien? And enough rope to tie it into a bundle?"

The man's eyes went wide, and a broad smile crossed his face. "Yes. We have that much straw. And we will stack it as you have said. Thank you, most honored Herald of Istra."

Catrin simply smiled and nodded. Malluke excitedly issued orders to his people, and it wasn't long before they scrambled to comply. Word of the straw dragon traveled fast.

Again, though, Catrin's eyes were drawn to where Kyrien rested, his wings extended in the sun, and people scrubbing, polishing, and oiling his hide. Still she knew he chafed under the saddle, and it was plain that the Arghast would not touch that mystical saddle without her permission.

Malluke followed her as she walked. "I will need assistance removing his saddle," Catrin said without a hint of emotion, though she could sense Malluke's anticipation building. "We must have somewhere to secure the saddle while Kyrien is not wearing it, and we should make sure it is very secure. It is a very precious saddle."

Malluke bowed down before her. "You honor us."

Catrin did not comment; instead, she walked to Kyrien's head. A teenage girl was stroking his closed eyelids, and he was practically purring. Laying her hands on him, she sent him energy.

No.

Kyrien's statement was not compulsion, but it also left no room for argument.

You need to heal as well. The tribes will take great pride in restoring my well-being, and I want them to have earned it. It's important.

Though she wasn't quite certain why it was important, Catrin smiled and asked, "Anything else?"