The Black Keep (The Chronicles of Llars) (9 page)

After a few moments of listening to the rhythmic and somewhat musical speech of the ancient stranger, the face disappeared and was replaced by the image of a large map. The map twisted and turned and rotated and lit up with different lights as they watched. Gennevera put her hand on rectangular panel that displayed the image and the map quite suddenly stopped shifting.

“It follows the movements of my hand!” she said in wonder as she moved her hand to the side to draw it away. “The magical powers these ancient beings had must have been marvelous to behold!” she said in wonder. Carym was too distracted to imagine it. All he wanted was to figure out how to read it so they could escape without running into anymore troks.

Gennevera’s hand moved this way and that and she experimented with the different views this produced. Finally, an image flashed before them that appeared to be a traditional sort of map of the city from above with all of the main roads. It also appeared to have various markings around the perimeter of the city indicating where the port was and what he assumed might be tunnels leading out.

“That is what we are looking for!” he said, studied the wonderful map for several moments, touching different parts where tunnels appeared to lead away from the city. Then he moved to the window to compare the map with their view of the city below.

“What do you think, Carym?” asked Yag. “Can we escape this infernal city or are we doomed to fight a hundred troks with our dying breaths?”

Carym let out a sigh as Yag took his turn studying the map. Carym stood by the window, peering out the curtain at the city below, trying to orient his view with that of the map. “Yag, I can see at least three more gates, like the one we passed through at the port area. If I understand that map correctly, these are the tunnels that lead out of the city.”

“And I believe I’ve figured out where one of them goes,” said Gennevera, studying one segment of the map on the wall. “This tunnel is marked with a symbol that holds meaning among my people to this day. It is the symbol that is used to represent a gateway to the part of the Underllars where Grymm resides.”

That revelation made the other three uncomfortable. None relished the thought of visiting
his
abode, as close as it was to the realm of the dead.

“Aye. Now we know where we don’t want to go,” said Yag wryly.

“The second bears a symbol which I do not recognize, yet the third bears a symbol that has shifted between a sun, a moon, and a starry sky. We may assume that this would be the tunnel we need to follow.”

“How’r we supposed t’know that’s the truth of it?” asked Gefar suspiciously.

“The ancient Dalcasians traded heavily with surface kingdoms and with other subterranean kingdoms. They would have had to have tunnels leading above before they developed the ability to pilot ships underwater,” said Carym. He hoped that was true anyway; it was possible that his logic was reversed, that the ancient Dalcasians had been surface dwellers who had only discovered their wealth by mistake. “Besides, I would rather not test our luck on the second tunnel when we’ve no idea at all about where it goes. It seems we have no other choice aside from fighting troks.”

“They seem to be fighting themselves now,” Yag said with surprise. “What in the name of Sarlyn would make them do that?”

Gennevera left the map and joined Yag at the window to survey the scene below. It appeared that two of the patrols of troks had met and were indeed fighting. “It’s hard to say for sure, but it looks like the badges on their armor are different from each other. Maybe they fight over the location of a valuable prize? Very interesting.”

“Aye, that it may be. What interests me more, my lady, is getting out of here before those patrols find their way to our little balcony. Must be they are after what we’re after and we got here first. Though I can’t say why they’d be after a way to the surface, or why they wouldn’t already know how to get there.” Yag was becoming more concerned with the motives of these devious creatures.

Carym joined them at the window. “Where ever they are, I would rather not be. So let’s leave while they are distracted with each other. I am eager to see Dalcasia disappearing in the distance behind us!”

There was no argument from any of the companions who so desperately wanted to find a way to the surface. The Deep Realms had a way of making a person feel paranoid, seeing enemies in every shadow, waiting to be attacked by nameless horrors. Although they had been well protected within the Temple of Zuhr, they knew exactly how vulnerable they were now that they had left it behind. Mathonry had told them of the darker beings who inhabited the wilds in Underllars and Carym wondered how they could survive so long in the shadow of such vicious threats as troks, oroks, and the things that escaped from Grymm’s Realm of the Dead.

The group made their way back down the tightly spiraled staircase to the bottom and into the passageway. They continued down the passageway traveling away from the Temple of Zuhr. When they reached a junction, they all waited as Carym tried to orient himself and face the direction he believed would lead to the Sun Tunnel, as he liked to think of it. Carym was getting anxious and he was beginning to feel the measure of the severity of their situation. He began to take on the role of leader of the group and, surprisingly, none of the others contested his decisions. He had made the decision of which tunnel to choose and he prayed that it was the right one. While they all agreed what the sun symbol must have meant, none could be certain of the reasoning of a people a dozen or more centuries ago. He wondered if the tunnel really led to the surface and if so, he wondered how long it would take. Worse, where did it go? It could bring them back out in Hybrand for all they knew. Did the tunnel pass through more Dalcasian cities, other ancient human settlements, or would it pass through lands now inhabited by troks and oroks? Carym contemplated all of this as they made their way through the passageway in silence holding to the disciplined traveling formations that Mathonry had taught them.

The foursome emerged from the tunnels and Carym guessed that they must be in the right place, more or less. They moved silently onto the street in professional formation and they kept watch for trouble. They walked in a diamond pattern with Carym at the point bearing the
bo-tani
given him by Mathonry from the supply room inside the device. Yag held the left flank with his crossbow ready, Genn on the right with a spell on the tip of her tongue, and Gefar at the rear with a crossbow loaded. One by one, each member of the foursome would take a turn and peer behind them, so that at any moment, there was at least one pair of eyes looking back for trouble.

They were on a large boulevard that was well-lit with glowing poles at regular intervals on either side. The buildings in this part of the city seemed to be mostly warehouses, and some smaller buildings that could have been shops or offices. Carym tried to image what life was like on this street so many centuries ago. Was this where the imported goods were held? Was it where goods waiting to be exported were kept? Had anyone lived in this part of the city or was it strictly business? He wondered how the people dressed, about the gods they worshipped, and what their culture was like aside from an affinity for luxury.

Yag completed his backward glance and nodded toward Gennevera. The Keneerie woman turned slightly and glanced behind, then stopped suddenly. She hissed a warning to the group and they stopped to see what had caught her attention. Carym saw that her head was cocked to the side and she was intently listening for something the others could not hear. Carym signaled for the group to spread farther out to opposite sides of the street and they oriented themselves to the rear. For a few moments all Carym could hear was his own heart beating and an annoying, and very faint, ringing in his ears. The others too, seemed perplexed but all of them knew Gennevera’s hearing was much keener than theirs and patience now could save their hides later.

Genn pointed to her ear then held her hand out with all fingers extended, the signal that meant she heard at least five approaching sets of feet. Carym answered by holding up one finger, the signal that called for a particular response drilled into them by the ancient immortal. Gennevera knew her job and prepared a spell to hurl bolts of magical energy at any foes, while Yag and Gefar were ready with their crossbows. Carym was prepared with a defensive Sigilspell that could gain them time for an escape if necessary, and was ready to fight with his enchanted
bo-tani
sticks.

A human sized figure turned a corner several hundred yards down the boulevard, running at full speed toward the group. The human was followed by several smaller figures bearing spears and swords, their booted feet echoing loudly against the eerie silence of the cavern. Carym held a moment, to be sure no more were following and wondering who...

“It’s Zach!” Gennevera growled.

Carym saw his friend running incredibly fast and outdistancing his pursuers. “Don’t shoot him, Gefar!” Carym felt the need to pass that order, considering the Roughneck’s attitude of late.

Gefar grunted but said nothing, his crossbow aimed at the lead trok. Yag too, had his weapon trained on one of Zach’s pursuers and Gennevera readied to cast her spell.

“Be ready to take your targets!” warned Carym, quietly. His team had the element of surprise, concealed as they were behind the objects along the street side. Carym and his companions were on a knife’s edge. They wanted to flee from this place, but they knew they could not outrun a band of marauding troks. He closed his eyes letting his sight shift to the otherworldly currents of energy that were so abundant on Llars. Here in the Underllars the most powerful current was the surging tidal force swirling in varying hues of browns and grays at his feet; it was truly like standing in a river and watching as the current flowed and ebbed and eddied and swirled around various objects. He let it flow into himself as the powerful immortal had taught him, and he relished in the vitality he now felt.

Carym opened his eyes and focused on the group of wicked little fiends trailing behind Zach, now running wildly and apparently unaware that their victim had friends positioned ahead of him, lying in wait. Carym was relieved to see that this band numbered a mere half a dozen; far less than many of the patrols they had spotted thus far.

Carym placed his right hand on the ground and began tracing the Sigil pattern in the air with his left. When he was done, the ground below him began to vibrate and hum. He let Zach get as close as he dared, ordering his friends to “hold steady,” sensing they might begin the attack and disturb his own powerful assault. He marveled at the fact that they trusted him enough to listen to his commands even as a band of fearsome troks raged towards them.

Zach ran headlong into their midst, passing Carym, turning his head hard and seeing his friends for the first time. As Zach had sailed safely past, Carym slammed his right hand down on the road, sending a wave of Earthtide surging towards the troks like a tidal wave. Oblivious to the dangers, the evil Elvish creatures ran headlong towards the wave as it launched rocks and bricks in every direction. As the wave neared the troks it grew bigger until suddenly it blocked them from view entirely. Then, Carym willed the wave of moving stone and earth to crash on the road in front of the enemy, bombarding them with an explosion of debris.

Momentum worked against Zach, and when he tried to crane his head around to see what was happening behind him, he slammed into a light pole and careened headlong to the ground, sliding to a halt. Groaning, but unwilling to be bested, Zach uttered a string of curses and rolled smoothly back to his feet; blades out and ready to fight.

Most of the troks had been subdued by the magical assault, but a few of them picked themselves up and began making their way towards Carym and his friends, unwilling to let their quarry escape so easily. These diminutive cousins of the surface elves were remarkable in their ability to simply shake off forceful attacks.

“Fire!” ordered Carym. Yag and Gefar each took turns shooting while the other loaded, throwing a steady volley of bolts towards the enemy while Genn unleashed a battery of magical bolts of her own. The group was stunned at the ferociousness of the fighters as they stumbled but continued on, taking hit after hit.

Finally the lead trok fell after three deadly crossbow strikes took him in each eye and in the throat, still struggling to fight as death took him. Two more fell, consumed in flames caused from repeated hits by Gennevera’s magical bolts while Carym prepared another attack against the remaining four.