The Knife's Edge (45 page)

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Authors: Matthew Wolf

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BOOK: The Knife's Edge
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The soldier shrugged off her grip, “Go back to your home!”

“Where is your commander?” she questioned.

The young man pointed with an elbow to a soldier crowded by others on the walkway above. Karil saw it was Mashiro. A herald was close at his side, carrying a dark blue banner. Mura at her side, Karil pushed through the throng. Mashiro saw her over the heads of his men, and made his way towards them. “What are you two doing here?”

“There’s no time to explain, you must open that door!” she said.

“Why should I?”

“There are men, women, and children headed this way! They will be expecting that door to be open!”

“The Common’s District is gone,” Mashiro said flatly, “How can you be sure they are not already dead?”

Karil swallowed, but she held her ground. “They are not. Rydel is not so easy to kill.”

Mashiro ground his jaw. “Still, I would not open this door and unleash the underworld that is threatening to fall down upon us. Not unless I was sure.” There was an abrupt howl overhead and a winged shadow whooshed over the stone ramparts. Soldiers fell to their knees as the beast’s tail thrashed, knocking one of the stone crenulations into dust. Karil heard another sound. Voices. Suddenly fists pounded on the gate below.

“Please…” Karil pleaded, clutching Mashiro’s plated arm. He looked at her, wavered, and finally shouted orders for the gates to be opened. The villagers, Rydel in the lead, flooded through the gate. When the last man came through, the door was closed and the heavy wood padlock slammed into place.

Karil embraced Rydel, pressing her face to his hando cloak. Quickly she pulled away with tears in her eyes. “I was so worried.”

Rydel smiled. “I would never leave you, my queen.”

Mura clasped the elf on his shoulder. “Your face is a welcome sight.”

“As is yours,” he replied.

Meanwhile, Karil looked to the many men, women, and children. There were hundreds—far more than the villagers they had brought to the city.

Rydel followed her gaze and spoke, “Our numbers have swelled. I gathered as many as I could before the city was overrun. Most were wise enough to follow.” Karil opened her mouth when a thundering clap shook the streets, sending townsfolk and soldiers to the ground with a chorus of cries. An eerie silence hung in the air until the hammering came again, pounding against the timbered door.

“Brace the doors!” the captain bellowed. At his command, men rushed to reinforce the door from another thundering slam. “Karil, you all must leave now!” Mashiro said as the door was battered once again. She watched as the wood bulged beneath the pressure while men cried out to hold the line.

“We can help!” she replied.

“There is nothing you can do. This is my duty, now you must do yours.” He looked to the men, women and children. “Get them to safety. Go north, find the Sodden Tunnels. They are the only way out of the city now. We will hold them off for as long as we can.”

Karil tried to keep her voice steady, “You are a good man.”

“In the end, I suppose so,” he said, and then urged her on, pushing her towards Rydel, “Take her. Go,” he ordered. Mashiro returned to his post, shouting orders and urging the men to hold position as the door shuddered once again.

“Time to go,” Mura said at her side, pulling her away with Rydel’s aid.

The feeling in Karil’s gut was all too familiar, as if she were abandoning the Lando and her people all over again. With the others at her side, she ran along the main road. They headed up the tiered rises of the city and towards the palace. Turning a bend, Karil nearly collided with Mistress Hitomi.

Everything about the iron-willed proprietor was completely unruffled, from her perfect bun of dark hair to her starched blue dress. Yet Hitomi wasn’t alone. At her heels were nobles dressed in disheveled rich silks. Their postures were huddled in fear, and their faces stained with panic.

“Hitomi, you’re alive. I’m so glad,” Karil said.

Mistress Hitomi bowed curtly. “And you. I see you have quite the following. I have my own. I gathered all those who have the wits to know this city is lost, and the sense to leave.”

Behind her, the men and women were laden down with stacks of books—the Dipping Tsugi’s library.

“You are a crafty woman,” Mura said in admiration.

“Do you know of the Sodden Tunnels?” Karil asked abruptly.

Mistress Hitomi faltered. “How did you—”

“It doesn’t matter. Do the tunnels lead out of the city?”

Hitomi shook her head, “It has been a long time since I’ve read of the ancient tunnels. I’m not certain. It was used by the kings of old. They are supposed to lead to Death’s Gate, however, they are long and dark, and filled with endless paths. One is as likely to get lost and die in there, as out here.”

Another thundering slam rocked the streets, sending many to their knees.

The world swayed beneath Karil as she replied, “Our death is certain if we stay. We will risk the tunnels,” she commanded, loud enough for all to hear. “Can you lead the way?”

“I will do my best,” the innkeeper said and hiked her skirts, “Follow me and quick.” She gave swift orders, gathering the fraught nobles, and together they headed up the sloping hill towards the palace.

As they ran, men and women joined the crowds, running out from the shadowed alleys. Karil’s mind churned. She feared Hitomi’s words. She thought she’d heard legends of the tunnels, often called the Endless Tunnels and with that recollection came a sense of foreboding. Just before the palace, Mistress Hitomi slowed. Broken stone littered the streets from the dragon’s destruction and several bodies lay, unmoving. Karil saw a familiar face. Councilor Tervasian lay beside several dead guards. His robes of blue, and white stole were stained in blood and his face had been crushed by a huge, nearby stone. Karil was neither glad nor disheartened. Neither was their room in her heart for pity.

Inns and villas surrounded them just like the rest of the Noble’s District. The only difference to Karil’s eyes was a stone wall covered in thick vines and several torches to the right of the winding road. On the wall’s center was a stone door.

With the aid of several men, they slid open the heavy door. Mistress Hitomi ushered the others into the dark tunnels until only she and Rydel were left.

“Go ahead,” Karil offered, and Mistress Hitomi ducked inside.

Just then there was a splintering crack, louder than all the others. It sounded from where they had come from. She knew what it was. It was the breaking of thick wood gates. She closed her eyes and gave a silent prayer for Mashiro.

“The spirits will find a place for him,” said Rydel.

Karil nodded, teary eyed. How many had died for her to live? She looked out over the city. Dragons circled in the air, while fires burned. She saw tall stone towers crumble in the distance.

“Come. We must go,” Rydel said, touching her arm.

At last, she averted her eyes and ducked inside the stone doorway, and into the Endless Tunnels.

The Cliff’s Edge


T
HIS DAMN FOREST NEVER ENDS!”
D
ARIUS
griped once again. “No, no, now I’m sure I’ve seen that bush a hundred times! We’re going in circles, Gray! I’d wager all my coin on it, that’s the same dicing bush!”

For the hundredth time Gray sighed under his breath. He was striding ahead of Darius, his thoughts drifting. His feet ached from days of travel while his mind swirled with questions about the Ronin. How long were they able to distract the Kage from their trail and where were they now? His thoughts turned to Mura, Karil, Rydel and the villagers. He feared for them—the safety they had sought was abolished, the saerok’s words confirming the destruction of the Shining City. But he still had hope. Ayva and Darius had said Mistress Hitomi knew of the tunnels. With luck, the innkeeper was still with the others. Gray’s fist tightened at his side as he thought of the hermit. No. Mura would see them all to safety. They will make it out, he vowed. And in the end, his thoughts inevitably shifted back to Ayva, and the last time he saw her, hanging from the claws of the dragon.

“Don’t ignore me, Gray,” Darius said from behind him. “This is the same road and we both know it! I don’t see how we’re saving Ayva if all we’re doing is sightseeing!”

Gray had been ignoring him until now, but at last, the rogue’s quips hit a soft spot, and he clenched his jaw, preparing a sharp retort when his attention switched to the path ahead. His eyes narrowed.

Beyond, through the tangle of trees, he glimpsed a bright light. Gray burst into a run. He heard the rogue yell in confusion. He tore through branch and vine, when he breached a set of trees. He came to an abrupt halt, stones skittering in front of him.

Directly before him was a cliff. It dropped a thousand feet, and in the distance was a monolith of stone, soaring towards the sky. Death’s Gate. But before Death’s Gate where the White Plains should be was a menacing blackness.

“What in the light was that, Gray?” Darius shouted, catching up at last, “We both know I’m faster than you, so I’m not sure what you were thinking but—” The rogue’s tirade cut short with a strangled sound as he took in the sight before them. “What in the seven hells…”

Gray remembered seeing the Gate from the Lost Woods. That seemed like ages ago now. “It seems so different up close.” Then he looked back to the precipice at his feet, despair filling him.

Darius whispered, “Death’s Gate and the White Plains… But why are they black?”

“It must be the taint we saw at Koru Village,” Gray explained, unnerved by his own words.

Darius shivered. “A foul notion. But more importantly and since you seem to have all the answers, where did this cliff come from? Where are we?”

“I don’t think this cliff is supposed to be here,” he replied warily tone.

“What’s that mean?”

Gray eyed the Gate. “It’s just like the forest. I think Daerval is shifting under the effects of the Return.” The idea terrified him—that the Kage had that much influence over Daerval made him feel as if they had already won.

“You mean this cliff just popped up out of nowhere because of the Kage?” Darius said in disbelief. “How is that possible?”

“I don’t know, but let’s find a way down.” Even as the words left his mouth, however, he saw only the sheer drop, and to the east and west, more of the same.

Darius shook his head. “What do we do? We can’t stop. What about Ayva?” Gray was silent, wracking his brain for an answer, but Darius continued furiously, “No, I won’t believe it! Why did we come all this way just to be stopped here? For light’s sake, I can see the Gate!”

Gray paused. He had nearly forgotten he could sense the lay of the land. He pulled upon his power, envisioning the nexus. Air swirled at his feet, catching dirt and pebbles as it spun faster around him. Darius backpedaled. The wind grew in intensity and with a breath he released it, jettisoning outward. He flew over the land, gliding over rock and root, searching the terrain with his second vision. He glimpsed more trees and rock east and west, but no way down the sheer precipice. Still he pressed, further and faster, and the wind raced as images flooded his vision. At last he opened his eyes. Despair in the pit of his stomach, his legs collapsed as he looked out over the deep crevasse.

“Well, can’t you just make another bridge?” Darius asked.

“It’s too far,” he replied, shaking his head. “I was barely able to survive the making of the last bridge and this is a hundred times farther. There is no way down.” In the corner of his vision, he saw Darius throw his pack over his shoulder. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m going to save Ayva, like we swore.”

He picked up a pebble, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. “You don’t get it. We’re stuck. This is the end of the road.” He threw the pebble, watching it plummet until the cliff obscured its sight.

“Well, forgive me for not lying down and dying.”

Gray rose to his feet. “I’m lying down and dying? Who do you think has gotten us this far?” His anger surprised him.

“And what were Ayva and I?”

The darkness whispered to him and he gripped the blade at his side. “I was always alone.”

“I see. I’m glad you think so highly of us,” Darius said. The rogue laughed, “See that’s the problem with you Gray, it’s not that you never let anyone close enough to help, it’s that if they are close enough, you’re too much of a stubborn, blind fool to see that they’ve been by your side the whole damned way! I hope you trip on your own damned face!” he said and kicked the dirt before him, showering Gray.

Gray rose. Fury coursing through his blood, he strode forward. Suddenly, he tripped, falling on his hands and knees. He looked back. A thick root protruded from the hard earth. Was that there before?

Darius looked confused.

Gray rose to his feet again, brushing himself off. “You’re ignoring the fact that this is an obstacle that none of your smug arrogance can fix,” he said. As he said the words, he regretted them, but his anger and despair had the best of him.

“I’m smug?” Darius retorted, bristling. “Listen to yourself! You act so high and mighty the air around you reeks of it! Dice, I nearly choke on it every time I get close to you! Sure, you play a great game of humility, but admit it, we both know you’re twice as arrogant as me deep down.”

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