Sword of Caledor (7 page)

Teclis gestured. A ball of light sprang into being around his clenched hand. He flexed his fingers and the ball of light drifted away, floating around like a will-o’-the-wisp, illuminating the shadowy interior with a dim yet adequate light. He repeated the process until each of them had his own personal floating lantern. This display of magic made the humans even more uneasy. Tyrion could not see what else there was to be done under the circumstances though. It would take some time to collect the right sort of wood to make torches and it would be so wet that getting them lit would involve magic anyway.

‘Ready?’ Teclis asked.

‘I am, brother,’ said Tyrion. The humans nodded reluctantly but still did not move. They needed someone to give them a lead and it looked like he was elected for that duty. He shrugged and moved through the archway.

‘These lights are going to make a stealthy approach impossible,’ he said with a smile, hoping to lighten the situation.

‘I think anything down there would know that we were here anyway. They could probably smell us. It is said that some of the skinks can track like dogs. They use their tongues instead of their noses but the results are the same,’ said Teclis.

‘One of the joys of travelling with you, brother,’ said Tyrion, ‘is that you’re always so full of interesting facts.’

That got a feeble laugh from the humans and warily the party entered the pyramid and descended downwards into the darkness.

The ceilings in the corridors were so low that in some places Tyrion had to stoop. They were wider than he would have expected but lower. He suspected that it had something to do with the way that the lizardmen walked. They kept their heads much lower, even if their bodies would have been longer than those of a human or an elf lying stretched out on the ground.

‘Which way?’ Tyrion asked.

‘Follow me,’ said Teclis. Tyrion would have preferred to take the lead, but this seemed like a wise time to defer to his brother and his magic. He prepared himself to spring forward at the first sign of danger.

He sensed it would not be long before it showed itself.

Chapter Five

‘
We need to be careful here,’ said Teclis in Reikspiel. ‘This ziggurat was the central temple of Zultec. This means that we are moving into the heart of the most sacred area in the city.’

‘Why is that important?’ Leiber asked.

‘Because they did not want infidels to come here into the most holy shrines. Before this city was abandoned I believe the slann laid spells here to prevent that from happening and there may well be physical traps too. And there is something else present, something I don’t like at all.’

Tyrion could see that, if anything, the morale of the humans had dropped still lower. They had thought they merely had to fight the degenerate remains of an elder race. Now they were being told that they would have to face dangerous magic and deadly traps too.

‘What are we talking about here?’ Tyrion asked. He switched language to keep the humans from understanding the nature of the discussion that he was having with his brother. ‘Daemons? Fireballs? Strange runes that summon deadly clouds of poison?’

‘It could be any of those,’ Teclis said. ‘There’s something odd here. I think this whole city was built to be a sort of giant collector of magic and that this temple was its focal point.’

‘And?’

‘And I think something has tainted the power, made it corrupt. It may be why this place was abandoned.’

‘I still don’t see what kind of threat that might imply,’ said Tyrion.

‘Where magic flows strangely and is tainted by Chaos, there is the chance of all sorts of strange manifestations. Think of what happens in the Annulii, of all the monsters and mutations that emerge from those glittering mountains.’

‘You are saying we might encounter something like that?’

‘I am saying we might encounter things that are much worse.’

The humans were becoming restless because the two elves were spending so much time talking in their own tongue. They looked suspicious.

Teclis switched back to their language. ‘I want you to all move very slowly and pay very close attention to what I say. If there is any inimical magic here I will see it and I will tell you what to do. I don’t want anybody running ahead and setting off any traps. Is that clear?’

Tyrion did not think there was much chance of that. He was fairly sure that his brother’s words were aimed at him. Teclis did not want him heroically striding into hidden dangers.

That was fine with him. He knew that his brother’s magesight was much better than his own and that Teclis was far more likely to discover any subtle spells in operation in the area.

‘Shall we go?’ Tyrion asked. ‘I am keen to see Sunfang.’

‘Just make sure your enthusiasm is not the death of you,’ Teclis said. ‘I only have one brother and I am not keen to lose him.’

‘I am not any keener to be lost,’ said Tyrion. ‘Let’s go.’

The inside of the ziggurat was a huge maze, clearly designed, or so Tyrion thought, to confuse any intruder. Teclis did not seem troubled by the way the corridors fitted together though. He clearly saw a pattern to it and Tyrion asked what that was.

‘It was built according to slann geomantic principles,’ Teclis said. ‘Most of the central chambers of slann temple cities are laid out according to the same pattern. I’ve seen the maps in the library at the great Tower of Hoeth.’

‘So you’re following the layout of a map that you can remember seeing once upon a time. You don’t actually know whether this city is laid out according to the same principles?’ Tyrion was speaking in elvish again. Just the fact that he was doing so was a cue to make the humans uneasy, but he could not help it. He thought they would be even more disturbed if they knew what he was actually talking about.

‘I have not gone wrong yet, have I?’

‘There is a first time for everything, brother.’

‘I’m sure it will give you some satisfaction when it happens.’ There was a brittle nervous edge to his brother’s words that told Tyrion that his twin was not quite as confident as he liked to appear.

‘It would give me no satisfaction whatsoever for you to be wrong. I very dearly want to find that sword. And I would like to have it soon.’

‘Don’t worry, we are very close indeed. I sense a powerful aura of magic just ahead of us. Be ready! If there are going to be any traps, they will be here.’

The corridor ended in a massive stone wall. It was etched with the strange pictoglyphs of the slann and even Tyrion could sense the magic in it. It was too heavy to be lifted by mere strength and too thick to be broken through even with a battering ram. It looked like they had come to a dead end.

‘Whatever it is, it’s beyond this wall,’ Teclis said.

‘I knew you were going to say that,’ Tyrion said.

‘You seem to be developing a gift for prophecy. Perhaps you would care to use your powers of divination to reveal how we are going to get through this. No? Then pray have the good grace to remain silent while I work out a way of doing so.’

Teclis paused in front of the wall. The mass of the thing, the sheer thickness of it, did not trouble him. What bothered him was the magic woven into it. Powerful spells converged here. Magic flowed all around him. It had a strange taint to it. Some kind of energy that he did not fully understand was part of it, along with the unmistakable spiritual taint of Chaos.

Something was being done to the winds of magic here. Some alien element was being added. He was not sure to what purpose but he was certain that it was happening.

He concentrated on seeing the whole thing with his magesight. His vision of what most elves would call reality receded. Now he was looking at the world painted in the bright, vivid colours of the winds of magic. He could see currents of power pulsing through the walls and knotting together like nests of writhing snakes. It seemed clear to him that one purpose of the spells here was to control this great doorway, for that was what the wall was. It was a doorway blocking the entrance to whatever chamber held Sunfang.

Argentes had somehow managed to penetrate into the heart of this pyramid. He had got past this barrier. Teclis doubted that he had done it by magic although he could not be sure. None of the information they had collected pointed to Argentes’s party having a mage with them, but that did not mean it was not so. Leiber did not know everything and there were many reasons why a mage might have kept his gift to himself among humans, not the least being a wish to avoid a knife in the back.

He was speculating too much. There was most likely a much more simple explanation. Perhaps the sword bearer had entered the secret chamber by a different route and if they circled round this maze they would find a different method of entry. Or perhaps there was some secret passage through the walls that the sword bearer had known about but they did not. It was said that the temple cities of the slann were riddled with such things. Or maybe the doorway had closed as part of an elaborate trap.

He was wasting time. If the tunnels were there, he did not know how to access them. If the was another route in, it would take him a long time to find it. This door in front of him would provide a means of access and it was controlled by magic which was something he did understand. All he had to do was work out the spell that would control it.

Magic was as much his gift as warfare was Tyrion’s. Now was his time to shine. He still felt embarrassed and insecure about the way his brother had saved him during the attack by the skinks. He could have handled it if he had been given time. He could have blasted the lizardmen with his spells. But by the time his magic was ready, the skinks were already dead, killed by his brother’s deadly blade.

Now they were confronted by a problem that could not be solved with a sword. He would find a way through this door using only his knowledge and his talents. And he’d better make a start soon or they would be here forever.

Once again he gave his full attention to the slann magic. He could see that untangling one knot of power would move the door. All he had to do was utter the words of an opening charm. What gave him pause was the web of magical energy that flowed out of that turnkey spell.

He was not sure what would happen if he did not neutralise those connections first. It might be that the whole complex of spells was completely harmless. Perhaps they fulfilled some ritual function. He doubted that was correct and he was not willing to take any chances with magic he understood so little.

He inspected the web of spells once again, concentrating not so much on their function as simply their place in the pattern. He wondered what would happen if he cut the connections.

Would it trigger something? Would some protective process react? Would guardians spring to life?

He did not know and he could not. The minds that had created this magic were too alien for him to understand. He was simply going to have to do what was necessary.

He hesitated for only a moment longer, knowing that he would gain nothing by waiting, but still reluctant to commit himself to an action that might have fatal consequences. Once again he found himself envying Tyrion. In moments like this he lacked his brother’s decisiveness.

He cast his spell almost savagely. The door shook as if caught in an earthquake. The humans looked around in panic, ready to bolt. Another miscalculation, Teclis thought sourly. He should have warned them. Too late now anyway.

The doorway slid sideways, disappearing into a recess in the wall. It was an awesome feat by the builders, combining magic with engineering on a huge scale. What was revealed in the chamber beyond immediately stopped the humans from taking flight. Teclis heard Tyrion catch his breath and saw him begin to take a step forward.

In the distance lay bodies. Some magic had prevented them from decomposing although they did look desiccated. The corpses were human. In the hands of one was a naked blade which glowed with its own internal fire to Teclis’s magesight.

They had found Sunfang and the last resting place of its bearer. Still he sensed something wrong here. All he needed to do was find it…

‘Stop!’ Teclis said. He said it loudly and with as much force as he could. But it was too late. The humans had seen the piles of gold objects strewn about the chamber. They had found the treasure they had searched for for so long. Nothing was going to stop them taking it. As a group they plunged forward into the room, ignoring Teclis’s desperate shout. ‘No! Wait! Don’t!’

It was already too late. The air within the room shimmered and ghostly, ghastly shapes began to take form. At first they were merely dancing sparkles of light but then the tiny shimmering motes raced together. They became outlines of creatures that looked like skinks. They hovered in the air above the corpses and then flowed into them, vanishing like poison gas breathed into the lungs of a victim.

The corpses shook as if the ground they lay upon was in the grip of an earthquake. One by one, the dead bodies pulled themselves upright. They lurched into motion like puppets on strings. More and more ghostly outlines shimmered in the air. They flowed towards alcoves in the walls and Teclis saw the mummified remains of other lizardmen lying in the darkness there. Once again, the motes of light vanished inside the bodies of the dead. Once again, the corpses began to move.

What had happened here? The slann were not famous for their knowledge of necromancy. They were said to have shunned it. Was this spell the product of some later degenerate cult? Or was it a product of the curdled magic he had sensed.

Teclis cursed. This was his fault. He should have given them more warning before he opened the door. He should have stressed the fact that no one was to enter much more strongly than he had.

It was too late for regrets now. The trap was sprung. All he could do was pray to the old gods and hope they were listening.

There were dozens of dead bodies within the tomb now, all animated. Their flesh had an odd dry quality and as they moved they made a strange wheezing sound as if the air being forced from whatever remained of their lungs was whistling out through gaps in their flesh. There was a stink of herbs and embalming fluid and the faintest hint of the sickly sweet odour of corruption.

The animated human corpses moved strangely, as if whatever was wearing them was confused as to how to make them walk. The first of the reanimated had reached Leiber’s men now. They were just standing there, slack-jawed, paralysed by the sight of one horror too many.

Tyrion was already in motion, blade held ready to strike. He was obviously torn between obeying Teclis’s injunction against entering the room and leaping into the fray. Teclis did not know what to tell him. The best plan might be to retreat in the face of this undead horde.

One of the humans went down. The walking corpses simply tore him limb from limb, painting themselves in his blood then using his torn-off arms as bludgeons with which to attack Teclis’s companions. That forced the still living humans to react. They responded violently, hacking with their swords, lunging blades deep into unbeating hearts, slashing the throats of things that no longer needed to breathe. The living humans could not kill their foes with normal weapons. Teclis tried a spell, but it fizzled out as it passed into the air of the chamber. Powerful wards were still active in there, dampening and negating his magic.