Child of Fate (18 page)

Namitus worked through the shrinking cave and
grimaced each time he felt his back or arms scrape against the
rock. The lights his companions used had long since faded but
Namitus had always been blessed with night vision. His sensitive
eyes had picked out the shapes of the rocks long after any of his
friends would not have been able to.

Namitus blinked when he realized the
obstruction in the cave ahead wasn’t just a corner in the tunnel;
it was a serious complication. He felt around to get a better
understanding of the tunnel. Elven blood or not, dark was dark.

Namitus twisted and curled his way around the
first of the rocks. He had to pull back into himself and try to
shrink his body as small as possible. It reminded him of the time
he’d spent as an independent thief, moving from one city to the
next in the southern kingdoms. He’d been able to hide from guards
or work his way into near impossible places by finding holes
smaller than anything he had any right to be in. Years spent with
the Kelgryn had made him stronger and added weight that seemed to
make the tunnel walls close in on him.

Breathing through a moment when he felt
certain he was stuck, Namitus exhaled and inched forward around a
curve. His knife was clutched between his teeth, freeing his hands
to pull him forward when his legs were at an angle they couldn’t
move. The goblins were only a little more than a foot shorter than
he was; he wondered if they had trouble making it through the
passage.

On the other side of the twists in the
tunnel, he found he had breathing room again. He gathered himself
together and took the knife back in hand. With his right hand
against the wall of the cave, he pressed forward. He saw the tunnel
curve to the right and angle up again just ahead of him.

Namitus stopped at the realization that he
could see again. He sniffed the air and closed his eyes. The faint
wind was moving against him faster now, but it brought with it some
unpleasant smells. The smell of fires almost disguised the foul
odor of unwashed bodies and decay. Namitus glanced back into the
darkness and frowned. Even if this was the promised exit from the
caves, there was no way the others could make it through. Even
Patrina, nimble and lithe as she was, wouldn’t be able to negotiate
the turns in the passage.

Namitus went forward, moving slowly and
checking his steps to keep from alerting any guards that might be
waiting. The goblins he’d seen thus far hadn’t impressed him with
their intelligence or skill, but he knew that a sword was still a
sword, even if it were notched and rusty.

The part-elven rogue climbed up a steep
incline, the light in the tunnel growing with every step. He
entered a small room and had to squint at the daylight streaming
into through a hole above him in the wall of a small room. A series
of ledges offered a path to the opening.

Namitus climbed up, relishing the feel of the
warmer outside air even if it brought the taint of refuse with it.
His stomach defied him, rumbling at the thought of using one of the
campfires he could smell to cook some manner of mountain animal.
Namitus waited a moment for his belly to settle and then he
continued to work his way up to the exit from the caves. He knew he
should return; his friends couldn’t follow him so it was pointless
for him to explore further, but he couldn’t deny the simple urge to
lay his eyes on the surface world again.

He waited at the opening, staring through
slitted eyes at a world lit by daylight. A collection of large
rocks lay in front of the entrance of the cave, blocking him from
seeing much more than a few primitive huts made from trees, animal
hides, and rocks. Smoke rose into the sky from the several
campfires that lay beyond the rocks. Namitus was about to risk his
first step into the outside world when he heard a voice that froze
him in his tracks and filled his empty stomach with an icy
dread.

“The humans must be dealt with!” said a voice
so deep and powerful it seemed to resonate within the bones of the
mountains around the rogue.

Namitus glanced around, looking over the tops
of the boulders but not risking exposing himself. He saw the high
walls of mountains, confirming that wherever he was, it was a
steep-walled valley.

“I’ve sent forces to find and destroy them,”
a masculine but far less imposing voice said. Namitus felt certain
the second voice was human. The first, he knew, was far more than
that. “We’ve no word from the caves; they might have gotten lost or
suffered a cave-in. Perhaps they fell into a chasm.”

“Enough!” bellowed the voice. The powerful
roar echoed off the mountains and made Namitus cringe. He couldn’t
imagine how the man speaking to the voice could stand on his feet
without wetting himself. “They’ve forced my plans early. You will
find them and kill them yourself! Stop wasting the goblins; they
are weak and pathetic. Do not fail me, Barador. There are many that
seek my favor.”

The man named Barador must have nodded or
bowed his acquiescence. Namitus heard nothing but he felt a blast
of wind and was stung by the dirt that was carried by it. He
retreated fully into the cave and waited, his heart hammering in
his ears as though he’d just run all the way from Highpeak.

Barador spoke again, this time switching to
the guttural language the goblins used. Namitus listened, picking
out the occasional word with his trained ear, but not enough to
make any sense of it. He could guess readily enough; they were
being martialed to hunt him and his friends down.

Namitus gasped. Barador had said he’d already
sent forces to deal with them. Surely the wizard and handful of
goblins they’d fought weren’t those forces. Namitus had to get back
and warn them!

Without even a longing glance at the mostly
cloudy sky outside the cave, Namitus turned and made his way back
down the ledges to the tunnel below. He left his dagger sheathed as
he worked his way back through the twists and turns in the tunnel,
but in his haste he got bound up in a smaller twist and had to calm
himself before he backed out and tried to worm through it from
another angle. Two tries later, and with mounting panic that he’d
never find Patrina and the Blades of Leander again, he finally
forced his way through. He left some skin and tore the Kelgryn
tunic he wore, but he was on his way at last.

Namitus emerged from the tunnel with his
heart in his throat. Was he too late? Had they already been
overwhelmed by the evil creatures Barador had sent looking for
them? Could he have helped had he been there?

Kar was staring at him when he rounded the
final bend in the passage, a globe of flames that shifted from
orange to purple to green floating just above his palm. Kar gave
him a grin and a wink before he squeezed his hand shut and made the
ball of fire poof out of existence.

Namitus turned, looking for the others.
Karthor was resting, his head bowed in prayer. Tristam and Patrina
were down the passage a bit toward the goblin lairs they’d already
found. He found Alto and William when he peered around the
rock-dividing passage he’d taken from the one they’d yet to
explore. He gasped, drawing sharp looks from William and Alto. Half
a dozen goblins lay dead on the ground and a larger hulking shape
was in the tunnel at the edge of the light the priest and wizard
had conjured.

“You’re back!” Alto said. He hurried over and
clapped Namitus on the shoulder, making him wince. Not only was
Alto strong for a boy his age but that was the same area that
Namitus had scraped forcing his way through the passage. “Here’s
your sword.”

Namitus’s eyes went to the scimitar Alto
held. He saw the blood on Alto’s hand and leg and the tears in his
breeches. Namitus took the blade and worked it back onto his hip.
“Looks like I missed a bit of fun?”

William snorted. Tristam and Patrina came up
from behind them, completing the small reunion. Namitus searched
Patrina’s face for a sign of forgiveness but her eyes passed over
him and went to Alto. Namitus held back a sigh and turned to
Tristam.

“Goblins and a troll, nothing we couldn’t
deal with,” he said.

William snorted again, casting doubt on
Tristam’s claim.

“That sword of yours saved our hides,” Alto
explained.

Namitus looked down at it and then back up at
them, surprised. He’d felt how fine a weapon it was but how could
it help with a mountain troll?

“Must be some magic about it,” Kar explained.
“Their blades did little more than scratch it. Alto tried yours and
had it ready for the knackers to make sausage out of it in no
time.”

Namitus saw he wasn’t the only one to grimace
at the thought of sausage made out of a troll. He hoped he’d never
be that hungry! “Magic? How did a blade such as this come to be all
the way up here?”

“A fitting question and no doubt a tale
deserving told. Another time,” Kar said. “Yet you’ll find both
things and people turn up in the strangest of places.”

“What did you find?” Alto asked Namitus,
bringing the conversation back to their immediate surroundings.

“It’s a way out,” Namitus confirmed to the
gasps of delight from the others. He shook his head, deflating
their excitement. “I barely made it through the cave to get there;
none of you would stand a chance. And on the other end I found a
goblin camp, perhaps an entire village.”

“You’re not sure?” Tristam asked with a
frown.

Namitus shook his head. “I didn’t dare stick
my head out. I overheard a man talking to a—” Namitus hesitated
before he shrugged. “I don’t know what it was, but it sounded big
and very unhappy that we’re still alive.”

“Pity you didn’t get a look at it,” Kar mused
aloud.

“If it’s all the same to you, I’m quite
pleased that I didn’t,” Namitus admitted. “When it was done
threatening the man, I was nearly driven back off the ledge I stood
on by a blast of air.”

“Was it hot air?” Kar asked.

“Hot air?”

“Yes, air that’s warmer than it has any right
to be—the definition of hot hasn’t changed, has it?” Kar
snapped.

Namitus leaned back from the wizard’s ire.
“Sorry, no. And no, it wasn’t hot. It blew against me and stung my
face with dirt, and then it faded.”

“Dragon,” Kar muttered, nodding his head to
himself.

“Why’d it matter if it was hot?”

“I wondered if it had breathed fire to make a
point,” Kar explained. “If it wasn’t warm, it was just the gusts
from its wings.”

“Saints above,” William muttered.

“Watch your mouth,” Tristam snapped at the
crossbowman. “At least in front of the priest.”

Karthor’s lips curved up into a smile but he
kept his head bowed and continued praying. His holy symbol let out
a steady glow from where he held it in his hands.

“What’s up with him?” Namitus nodded toward
Karthor and asked Alto.

“He’s asking for more divine favor after our
earlier fight. Alto got himself run over by a pack of goblins and
they stuck him full of holes,” William answered when Alto opened
his mouth but failed to find {the} words to speak.

Alto blushed. “Just a spear in my hip,” he
muttered. “I’m fine now.”

“Aye, thanks to Leander’s blessing,” Tristam
said. “Never fail to give credit to a holy man or the saint he
serves when it’s due. One day it’ll come back to you and if you’ve
taken it lightly, it’ll be harm you’ll earn, not good.”

Alto nodded at the sage advice of the
experienced warrior. Namitus smirked at the boy’s reaction. He knew
better than to question; he’d been around many different priests of
different saints. There were saints for nearly every facet of
existence. The saints were beings that embodied the traits or, in
some cases sins, of existence. The saints themselves served a
greater force, referred to as the Allfather or the Great One. Few
people worshipped that being, at least not directly. It did no good
since prayers were never answered.

“So now what?” Alto asked. He looked anxious
to direct the attention away from himself. “We can’t go up the
small tunnel and the large one has goblins and worse in it. Do we
go back to the mines?”

“There’s other ways out of the caves,”
Namitus said. “The man, Barador, is supposed to bring a force of
his own men down to deal with us. If he can make it down here, then
we can make it out.”

“Bah, if that mountain troll can navigate
these tunnels, then we should be able to skip and dance our way
out,” Kar grumbled.

“Then let’s put on our dancing shoes,”
Tristam said. “I’m tired of these caves.”

Once Karthor rose up and nodded that he was
ready, they started down the righthand tunnel. The cave remained
broad and easy to walk through as it curved and arched up into the
mountains. Tristam called a halt when the tunnel emptied into an
immense cavern. The walls stretched away into the darkness. Even
the ceiling of the new cave was so high it was beyond their
lights.

“Kar, what is this place?” Tristam asked the
wizard in a hushed voice. Alto understood the warrior’s desire for
secrecy; there was a pressure in the dark cavern that seemed to
weigh down on him as though something was waiting for them to
reveal themselves.

“It’s a cave,” Kar snapped. “A big one, from
the looks of it.”

“Can you light it?” Tristam ignored the
wizard’s surly tone.

“Here I thought you brought me along for the
conversation,” Kar quipped. He began whispering arcane words and
twisted his fingers into positions possible only for the double
jointed. When he finished, he held a pool of shimmering white
flames in his left hand. He dipped his right hand into it and
pulled out a fiery globe. The remaining flames changed colors from
white to orange.