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Authors: Seth Skorkowsky

Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Anthologies, #Epic, #Anthologies & Short Stories

Mountain of Daggers (18 page)

BOOK: Mountain of Daggers
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Jingling mail and clomping boots sped up the passageway from the far side.

A young soldier hurried around the corner, followed close behind by his partner. “Halt!”

Wheeling around, Dolch hurled the massive grate across the passage. It slammed into the soldier’s body, knocking him into a stone wall with a terrible clatter, nearly pinching him in half. Blood and broken chips of rock exploded across the walls. With Dolch’s back turned, Ahren charged. He swiped his sword through air as the demon-man jumped into the sewers.

Shouts and thundering boot steps raced from both ends of the alley. Crouching low, Ahren lowered himself down the wooden ladder into the black hole.

Sounds of pouring water reverberated through the dark tunnel. Lightning burst outside, momentarily flashing down the entrance shaft and a second grate forty feet up the passage. A walkway stretched between them, running alongside a muddy, fast-moving stream. Cascades of water gushed from small openings spaced along the upper wall, feeding the rushing sewer.

“He went down there,” someone cried from above.

“Fetch torches,” another voice barked. “Alert the others to flush him out. That bastard won’t get away.”

Adjusting to the near darkness, Ahren peered up and down the passage. Fear balled in his gut as he imagined silky fingers of shadow entwining around his throat.

A low voice whispered from the shadows behind him.
I see you, Black Raven
.

Clutching his sword, Ahren spun to face his enemy.

Are you afraid?
The voice came from above.

Ahren shot his hand beneath his soaking tabard and pulled a plamya stone from the leather bag. Thin beams of prismatic light shone from the small crystal, pushing the darkness back. Ahren looked all around him, but saw no trace of the demon-man.

You should be.
The voice echoed from the passage ahead.
I’m not through with you.

Slick grime coated the narrow walkway alongside the sewer reservoir. Sticking close to the wall, Ahren followed the tunnel to where the voice had come. He held the magical stone low, trying to keep from ruining his night vision. Brown insects scuttled along the path, retreating from the rising water. Horizontal lines of leaves and debris along the walls verified the tunnels’ history of flooding.

The sewer curved then narrowed to a low tunnel. Stooping, Ahren peered into the long passage. A pointed arch roof, four feet at its peak, extended the length of the tunnel. A narrow crawlway ran along the side, not more than a foot across.

Did the mighty Black Raven think I would never find him? Did you believe I would forget you; forget what you did to me?

Lowering to his knees, Ahren crawled into the narrow passage. Swift, foul water rushed only inches away. Pungent slime gripped the walls, reeking of filth and rot. Fresh prints from soft leather soles ran down the walkway. Curling his nose from the overwhelming stink, Ahren followed the path until coming to a set of rusted iron bars across the tunnel. Their attempt to block anyone’s passage had been thwarted by saws decades before, leaving the jagged remnants hanging from the ceiling like sinister teeth. A chamber opened up beyond it, filled with a wide lagoon. Ahren’s small light failed to reach the walls. Crawling under the bars into the room would leave him too vulnerable if Dolch were waiting inside.

Removing a second gem from his bag, Ahren tossed it as far as he could into the chamber. He risked cracking the gem, releasing its magic, but Ahren no longer cared about the client's prize. The glow of the light spun across the stone walls as it sailed past to finally bounce to a stop just short of the far side thirty feet away. Three tunnels fed into the chamber lagoon which emptied out Ahren’s passage and another just like it. Arched bridges linked the wide walkway circling the room. In one quick move, Ahren slipped through the cut bars and into the chamber, ready to defend himself.

Keeping on guard, he circled the room to retrieve the glowing stone. As he knelt to pick it up, voices came from the passage beside him.

“There’s a light down there.”

“It could be him. Be careful.” Orange torch light flickered from the hall.

Closing his fist around the glowing gemstone, Ahren hurried into an adjoining passage. Crouching in the shadows, he peered back to see five Lichthafen soldiers carrying torches emerge into the large room.

“He couldn’t have made it far,” their leader said. He motioned to one of the passages. “Jan, Bemot, you take that way. The rest, follow me.” He and two of his men turned and quickly marched toward the tunnel in which Ahren hid.

Still clutching the stone, Ahren hurried along the dark passage, trying to keep ahead of the soldiers’ torchlight. The tunnel turned unexpectedly and Ahren nearly slipped into the raging current. The marching guards drew closer. Keeping his hand against the wall for guidance, he rushed through the black passage as fast as he could manage.

Lightning flickered through a sewer grate ahead, momentarily illuminating the long tunnel. Gushing water poured from a rectangular hole near the ceiling ahead. There were no side passages or alcoves for him to hide. The flickering lights grew brighter as the soldiers neared. Before they turned down the passage, Ahren raced to the cascading waterfall and pressed himself against the wall behind it. The cold water, polluted with filth from the city streets, flowed over his body.

“He must be close,” one of them said as they neared.

Ahren held his breath. He could barely hear past the sound of running water.

“Be careful,” the officer said, walking past the cascade. “He killed a girl and one of our men already.”

“What does he look like?” a whiney-voiced soldier asked.

“He was dressed as a guard when he fled the warehouses, but now he’s changed into all black.”

“When we find him, I’m…”

Ahren waited for his pursuers to turn down the far side before emerging from the rank water. He loosened his grip from the gem, spilling out light, and hurried back the other way. Torchlight from the other two soldiers still lingered in the far passage. He started toward the tunnel from which the guards had come, when he heard Dolch’s voice behind him.

Wrong way, Black Raven.

He whirled but found no one there. Across the room, the shadows within the second exiting tunnel seemed unnaturally thick. Opening his hand more, rays of light sprung from between his fingers and pierced the inky darkness.

Nothing.

He crossed the bridges over the canals and crept closer to the low exiting tunnel. Like its companion, the rusted iron bars meant to block passage had long been cut. Keeping his grip tight on his sword, Ahren carefully maneuvered through the jagged hole and onto the narrow crawlway inside.

The torrential water had risen to just inches below the pathway. The current’s echoing roar filled the tunnel. Knotted strands of moss hung from the dripping stones above and brushed along Ahren’s neck and back as he crawled as fast as he safely could. The tunnel opened into a wide, arched passage.

Squinting, he tried to see into the dark walkway, but the gem’s meager light provided little help. He tossed the plamya stone ahead. The light skipped off the filthy floor, illuminating the mortared brick side tunnels as it passed. The stone skittered, about to stop, then vanished, plunging the passage in blackness.

Panicked, Ahren drove his hand under his tabard. The soaked leather bag had swollen, making it difficult to uncinch. Blindly, he managed a finger inside the pouch and pulled out another gem.

He held it out, expecting to see the demon-man before him, but the shadows were empty. Still cautious, he crawled from the tight passage and stepped onto the wider pathway. Bits of refuse and moldy rat bones littered the ground. Creeping closer to where the last stone had disappeared, he saw that the walkway ended where a second stream cut through, intersecting with the large sewer. He peered into the dingy, brown-foamed water, hoping to spot the glow of the plamya stone beneath the waves, but saw nothing. The current had swept it away.

Lose something, Raven?
Dolch’s voice chuckled.
Tell me, is it the treasure or the woman that you mourn the most?

Ahren’s knuckles tightened around the sword handle. Holding out his light he scanned the passageway. He saw no sign of his quarry, but the rib-like arches lining the tunnel left dozens of dark hiding places. Something moved in the shadowy distance down the hall. Ahren turned in time to see Dolch step from an alcove and hurl a fistful of stygian fire.

Ahren leaped down the side passage just as the black flames exploded against the stones behind him. A hard wave of cold hit him as frost sheeted across the wall. Glancing back, he saw his attacker flee down the passage.

Rolling to his feet, Ahren hopped across the open canal and gave chase. The tunnel snaked from side to side, broken by iron grates pouring water from the streets above. He turned a corner and found himself in a wide chamber where two surging streams joined.

“Halt!”

Ahren jumped to see a soaked soldier carrying a lantern hurrying up the other passage toward him.

“Where did you get that?” the man asked, pointing his sword at the plamya stone in Ahren’s hand.

“Back there,” Ahren replied. “The thief must have dropped it.”

“You’re with the warehouse guards,” he said stepping closer. “Where’s the rest of your men?”

“We got separated.”

The soldier nodded. “Me too. Have you seen…” He stopped. “What’s that?” Holding his lantern high, he aimed the light across the rapid water. The yellow glow swept across the gray stones then froze.

Dolch crouched against the upper far wall like a spider, clutching a black wriggling blade of solid shadow. His single blue eye glinted as inky flame erupted in his other hand, dripping hissing drops between his curled fingers.

Staggering back, the terrified soldier cried out as Dolch hurled his evil magic. The black fire burst, engulfing the soldier in dark flames, extinguishing his lantern. Cracks spider-webbed across his screaming face and chunks of icy flesh broke off. Slapping at the cursed flames, he fell face first, sizzling to the ground.

Ahren sprang to the side as another fistful of fire flew from the demon-man’s hand. The frigid blast hurled him forward, knocking the glowing stone from his hand. The ground slid away as Ahren fell into the rushing water.

The cold sewage slammed into him, rolling him end over end. His steel helmet fell off, but the heavy chain shirt dragged him down. Chunks of sweeping debris smashed into his fingers as he blindly struggled to grab hold of anything. He slid across the sewer floor, pounding into the hard walls and tumbling back every time he tried to reach the surface. His lungs burned for air. Foul water pushed its way through his tight lips and up his nostrils.

His battered hands managed to grab hold of a loosened stone along the wall. Fighting the torrential surge, he managed to pull his head above the waves long enough to gasp a short breath before the current yanked him away. He struggled to remove the chain mail shirt, but to no success. His strength waned and he felt euphoria wash away his panic as he began to drown.

He slammed into something hard. Water rushed around him, pinning him to a set of iron bars stretched across the canal. Chunks of wood, torn cloth and other refuse clung to the rusted bars. Grabbing hold of the sharp, slimy metal he pulled himself to the surface. Coughing and sputtering, Ahren found the walkway embankment and crawled onto the filthy stone. His stomach heaved and he vomited putrid water.

Still panting, Ahren rolled onto his back. His fingers felt along his stomach, finding the plamya bag still tucked beneath his drenched tabard. He had light, but his sword lay somewhere at the bottom of the canal. Removing one of the glowing gems would help him see, but leave him exposed. If Dolch or any of the soldiers scouring the labyrinth found him, it was over.

Taking a deep breath, Ahren rose to his feet. His hand moved along the smooth stone wall beside him as he blindly followed the passage. The roar of rushing water filled the darkness, but Ahren focused his ears, listening for the faintest sounds buried beneath.

Lightning flickered through the street grates above, momentarily illuminating the tunnel ahead. The arched passage appeared empty save a pair of black rats fleeing the rising water. He continued onward.

The passage sloped slightly upward as it turned. Torchlight flickered ahead and Ahren crouched in the corner. A pair of armed soldiers marched toward him. Ahren’s disguise had worked before, but he knew not to risk it. He inched back, ready to retreat, but they turned into a side passage instead. Ahren waited for their light to move away before hurrying past and continuing on.

Lightning pulsed above, briefly showing the tunnel split just ahead of him. Sticking to the left side, he made his way carefully toward the divide when another flash lit the tunnels. Dolch moved from a nook in the shadows.

Fear lurched inside Ahren’s gut. He dropped lower, readying for an unseen attack. Another flickering pulse flashed from above, lighting the tunnel long enough for him to see the demon-man heading toward the right passage.

Ahren waited several long breaths before moving from his place. Carefully, he followed the walkway toward the left tunnel. Again the passage veered to the side, and he spied a colorful glow through a low passage ahead.

BOOK: Mountain of Daggers
8.93Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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