The Blood Sigil (The Sigilord Chronicles Book 2) (29 page)

"And the cauldrons?" Goodwyn asked.

"P-p-pressure holds the air in an upside-down cauldron," said Spider. "We can breathe while we go under the street."

Goodwyn thought about it for a moment. He would never have thought about using a cauldron in such a way.

"That's absolutely brilliant," he said.

Spider smiled and puffed out his chest, and Owl beamed with pride.
 

Spider demonstrated, holding his hands over his head then tugging them down. "J-jump in. Pull cauldron down below water. Follow me and Ferret."

Ferret and Spider lifted their cauldron, then flipped it upside down, holding it aloft above their heads. Spider was still grinning when they jumped into the water. The kids disappeared below the surface with just the top of the cauldron showing, bobbing up and down a bit as it moved toward the far wall. A moment later, the cauldron submerged completely.

Therren upended his cauldron and held it up. Owl pressed up against him, grabbed the lip of the cauldron, and the two jumped into the water. The cauldron bobbed toward the spot where Spider's had disappeared.
 

Goodwyn shook his head.
Breathing underwater with cooking pots
.
What have I gotten myself into?

He held up his cauldron, jumped into the water and tugged it down with him. The frigid water bit at his skin, but he was surprised that it wasn't colder. He moved his diving cauldron in the direction the others had gone until it bumped into the wall. He pulled it further down and pressed on, surprised that he was able to keep moving through what he thought had been a solid wall.

It's a door!
We must have gone through a submerged doorway
. He realized they were now walking along an ancient street, with the cauldrons pressing up against the base of a newer street built directly above.
I wonder how many old versions of the city lay buried in the waters like this?

Goodwyn pressed on, finding his companions in the dark by clanking his cauldron against theirs. Once in a while Therren would reach under the cauldron and grab his hand to reassure him that they were still there and on the right track.

His earlier thoughts about the water temperature quickly faded. His feet were so cold he could barely feel them, and his shins and thighs had grown heavy. He tried to bend them but found he couldn't.

I'm going to end up in an icy grave down here
, he thought.

Long past the time when he thought he absolutely could go no further, Therren's finger's touched his again, though neither of them could squeeze enough to grasp the other's.
 

A moment later his cauldron bumped something, the high pitched ring sounding like metal against metal. The water level rose and fell as little waves rolled through. The cauldron lifted, and Goodwyn looked up to see Therren and Owl hauling his makeshift diving bell out of the water. They each reached down and grabbed an arm to pull him out.
 

He was glad they were doing the grabbing, because his hands were so blue and numb that he wasn't sure he would have been able to grip anything. He was getting sick and tired of feeling cold and wet.

Wherever they had surfaced was warm, and the air was dry and smelled of burning wood and incense.

"Where are we?" Goodwyn managed, flopping the rest of the way out of the water like a dying fish.

"F-fire first," Spider said. "Follow."

They followed Spider through a narrow tunnel carved in stone. It had a roof made of wooden planks, and yellow and orange light filtered through the gaps between the boards. It wasn't long before Spider stopped, and the cold, wet caravan piled up behind him.
 

The air had grown hot and the light above much brighter. Goodwyn saw they had stopped near a massive black iron stove. They all had to lie down to keep from hitting the wood above their heads.

"St-stay here and get warm," said Spider. Then he pointed up to the light above the planks. "Ch-church up there."

"I am n-n-never going near c-c-cold water again," whispered Therren, his teeth chattering and arms hugging himself as he shivered.

"You s-s-sound like me," Spider whispered, grinning wide.

Goodwyn chuckled, truly enjoying having Spider around.

"I think this is a run-off channel for when they clean the ash from the stove," whispered Owl. "A stove this big, they'd have to throw water in or they'd choke on all the ash dust." She wiggled her feet. "As soon as we can feel our toes again, we move."

"Hey, Goodwyn," whispered Ferret. "Are we dead in the near future?"

Goodwyn sighed. "My ability doesn't work like that. And no, I can't see anything right now."

"Shut it," whispered Owl. "Company."

As though summoned by her words, the floorboards above them creaked and bowed under the weight of heavy boots taking long strides across the floor. Goodwyn couldn't make out the owners of the boots, but he had to assume they were friars. He counted four different men as they stepped over their secret entrance. He welcomed the interruption, as it gave them more time to lie near the oven and warm up. His fingers and toes still ached and throbbed as the numbness slowly wore off, replaced by the uncomfortable feeling of being poked by hundreds of little needles.

"How are we going to get up there?" whispered Therren, testing one of the boards with his hand.
 

In response, Spider just smiled and reached into his coat. He pulled out a thin metal tool with a curved, forked tongue at one end. Once they were sure the friars had left the room above, Spider set the tool to the boards, working them up and away from the cross beams, using the fork in the tool to pry out the nails.

It only took him a few minutes to pop out a pair of boards wide enough to admit the group. In single file they clambered up into the room, a somewhat cramped chamber lit by ornate, colored candles resting on stands mounted to the stone walls that formed the supports for the more ornate architecture on the higher levels of the church.
 
The room seemed little more than a storage space for scrolls and books of church records, with a simple wooden door at each end.

"Which way?" Owl asked, turning to Spider.

"Where would they be keeping Commander Aegaz for tomorrow's trial?" Goodwyn asked.

"How would Spider know that?" asked Therren.

Owl eyed Therren with exasperation. "Because Spider has memorized the layout of just about every building in the city, as well as all the roads, above and below ground."

Spider peered through the keyhole of one of the doors, then checked the other. "Heretic p-p-pyres," he said, waving them through the second door.

Goodwyn and the others followed him into a narrow hallway, the walls covered with ornate tapestries depicting everything from religious ceremonies to epic battles. The one element each of the gilded scenes had in common was the presence of friars. Everywhere a friar appeared in a tapestry scene or a painting, a yellow glow emanated from their head and hands.

They see themselves as godlike
, Goodwyn thought.
Such arrogance!

They stepped through another door and found themselves in a hallway with one curved wall that bulged outward toward them, likely made by the back side of a semi-circular wall. At the narrowest point of the passage a small, bright red wooden door with golden plates and hinges led out into the rounded room.

"There," Spider whispered. "Worship hall."

"That's where they'll be holding the commander prisoner? In a worship hall?" Goodwyn asked.

"The heretic pyres," Owl answered for Spider. "They are giant fireplaces in the worship hall where they burn the heretics. It'll be part of tomorrow's worship ceremony, and all the church members will watch."

"That's disgusting," Therren whispered.

"Let's take a look." Goodwyn cracked open the decorated door just enough to allow him to see into the chamber beyond. The vast room had vaulted ceilings that went straight to the top of the church, easily taller than most buildings in Niragan. Stained glass windows adorned nearly every recess or niche that would allow it.

Row after row of lacquered and stained pews spread outward in a fan pattern from the front of the church, which was dominated by a solid gold altar. Flowers and stone statues of religious figures ringed the raised platform that separated the altar from the area reserved for regular members.

"See anything?" Therren asked, sidling up to stand next to Goodwyn. "I mean, with your quobber."

"It's quiver, dammit," Goodwyn whispered, cracking a smile. "And no, I don't see anything. The church is empty."

"Then where'd those four friars go?" Owl asked.

"They can't all be out looking for you two," added Ferret.

Goodwyn scanned the chamber again, this time peering into the shadows on the outer rim of the great hall. Spaced evenly around the room were stations, recesses sunk into the walls that each had their own theme. And one of those recesses had a particularly dire theme—burning heretics.
 

Aegaz stood against a tall wooden post, hands bound behind his back and feet secured to the base of the post, his head sagging to the right and eyes closed. A pyramid of wood and kindling had already been arranged at his feet. His clothes were torn, and the man had clearly been beaten.

"I've found Commander Noellor," Goodwyn whispered. "But I don't like it. There's too much open space between us and him. It's a slaughter box. Perfect for an ambush."

"But you said you didn't see anyone in the near future," said Owl.

Goodwyn shook his head. "No, but that doesn't mean they're not there. I don't really know how my ability works."

"That's not very helpful," said Ferret.

"Spider, can we get to the other side of that room without crossing it?" Goodwyn asked. "I want to get to the heretic pyre station on the far side."

Spider thought about it for a moment, his face scrunching up and brow furrowing as he did so. Goodwyn could only admire the innocence and joy about him that few Kestian children ever had, and this despite the many hardships Spider had endured.

"Ch-chimney," he finally said. "S-smoke has to go out, so we go in."

Owl beamed. "That's a great idea. We can get into the chimney and climb down, then free your Commander Aegaz and get back out the same way."

Spider led them back through the narrow passage and around the curved wall. After he showed them a ledge they needed to reach, Goodwyn and Therren climbed up and then gave the others a hand up—Spider requiring two hands.

"Wait," Goodwyn whispered, raising his hand to stop the group. He might not know how his ability worked, but he certainly knew
when
it was working. On the next ledge up, his quiver sight showed him the shimmering images of four friars, each wielding a sword. It took less than a second for him to see their deaths at the hands of another group of friars waiting to ambush them near the chimney. "We need to go back."

"What, why?" Owl asked.

"Because we die in the chimney if we go," Goodwyn said. Everyone quickly slipped back down off the ledge and onto the main floor.

"I say we make a break for it," said Therren. "If they're waiting to ambush us in the chimney, we should just run past the altar and through the church. We cut Aegaz loose and then we run."

Goodwyn shook his head. "I still don't like it. Something's wrong. Why would four friars be able to kill us? Hell, why would twenty friars? I fought hundreds of briene single-handedly at Waldron."

"We don't have much choice," said Ferret. "We need to do this now, before the rest of the friars come back from searching for you."

Grudgingly, Goodwyn agreed to the plan. He peeked out through the door into the main area of the church, and again it appeared empty.

"If we do this, we're not just running across an open space," Goodwyn whispered. "Break left, run for the shadows, and creep around in the dark until we get to Commander Aegaz."

Ferret was first out the door, scampering across the well-lit altar area, then leaping into a slide across the marble floor and into the shadows beyond the pews. Goodwyn took a few deep breaths, counting to five.

No ambush
, he thought.
At least not yet
.
None of this feels right. They can't possibly be stupid enough to have left a prisoner alone and unguarded.

"It's a good thing these folk are religious types and not warriors, isn't it?" Therren whispered.

"Everybody go." Goodwyn ushered them all through the door, each one following Ferret's line to the shadows. Spider bounced more than slid, but he made it to the far side nonetheless. Still unable to believe what was happening, Goodwyn scrambled past the pews. Breathing heavily, leaning up against the expertly carved end of a bench, he again counted, waiting for the attack he knew should be coming.

"What is wrong with these people?" he whispered. "Why is there no ambush?"

"Maybe they really are just foolish religious types," Therren replied. "The shamans back in Kest wouldn't have thought to leave an ambush either."

"Stick to the outer wall." Goodwyn waved for the rest of the group to follow him as he crept through the dark corners of the church.

He slithered along the cold, marble floor, shivering slightly under his still-damp clothes, despite the warmth of the sanctuary. Even as they reached the back of the church by the wide double-door entrance, still there had come no ambush. There was no sign of the enemy anywhere.

This is all wrong
, he thought.
I should be seeing them, someone, moving through here.
His visions might not come to him on demand, but when his ability was working he rarely ever spent much time in a room without seeing a vision of someone else entering or passing by. The future was never empty or alone. It was as though the future was hiding from him that night.

He leaned forward, ready to sprint across the gap that spread before the doors. Just as his muscles tensed, preparing for motion, the ambush came.

"Now!" echoed a shout from the center of the church. Men wearing gleaming purple breastplates and black cloaks leapt out from underneath almost every pew. More dropped from the balcony seats as others charged through the double doors. A swarm of scarabs rushed out of every hole and crevice and shadow in the church, descending on the prey caught in their trap.