The Tower of Bashan (30 page)

Lela gave him a look. “How do you know all this stuff?”

“What stuff?”

“Languages, history, clothing, songs, poems.”

“What can I say? I like to read and I’ve traveled with a wide variety of people. I’m usually pretty good about retaining what I’ve learned. So long as it interests me anyway.”

“C’mon,” said Andrasta. “At the rate we’re going, we’ll die of old age long before something kills us.”

* * *

Andrasta led the way down the long, dark hallway. Unlike before, the walls were completely smooth, void of any nick or crack, let alone the symbols that adorned the area on the other side of the door. Seamless floors and ceilings of the same golden-hued granite surrounded them.

They had been walking for what seemed like hours, far longer than reason allowed, considering they went neither up nor down. The length of their path was unfathomable considering the size of the tower from outside.

And this is only the beginning.
She sucked her teeth.
Blasted sorcery.

“It’s a good thing Thalamanak is dead,” said Andrasta.

“Why is that?” asked Rondel.

“If he wasn’t, I’d be looking to kill him for the way this tower was designed.”

She halted at the faint sound of metal clinking. She gestured for the others to be still.

“What is it?” whispered Rondel.

She held the torch out while squinting up ahead. “The floor almost looks like its shimmering.”

“Moving?”

“Could be. Hard to tell with the torch.”

“Switch to the lantern in your pack. It won’t flicker as much.”

She pulled the lantern free and lit it. Looking ahead again, not only the floor, but also the walls and ceiling rippled like still water disturbed by a thrown stone.

“Definitely moving,” said Rondel.

“What’s causing it to do that?” asked Lela.

Surprisingly, she didn’t sound scared, only curious. It was the first thing the girl had said in some time.

Maybe she’s pushed the stuff about Kunal aside for now.

“Only one way to find out,” said Rondel. He extinguished his torch and handed it to Lela. “Here. Carry this. I’m sure we’ll need it later.”

They continued forward until a yelp came from Lela. “Those are bugs!”

Andrasta stopped, inadvertently placing her foot down on one of the insects. A metallic pop sounded, followed by a loud crunch. She lifted her boot and examined the remains of a bug that had drifted away from the others. Its shell was silver and resembled light plate armor. Parts of it had embedded itself in the bottom of her sole. The yellowed insides smeared on the underside of her boot resembled decaying fat. It smelled like spoiled milk.

No way we’re sneaking up on anyone while carrying this smell.
She tried to scrape the underside of her boot off with a knife.

“Lovely,” said Rondel. “Let me borrow the lantern.”

He took it and slowly inched forward. He unsheathed his sword and lowered it to the floor. A minute later he shuffled backward with one of the creatures crawling along the blade’s length. Its torso reminded Andrasta of a small armadillo, yet it had eight legs and an oval head with large black eyes and small antennae like an insect.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Studying it. I know the shells are hard, but there has to be something more to them we’re missing.”

“What do you mean?”

“They just don’t seem dangerous enough.” He nodded to Andrasta’s boots. “With the right protection even a fairly sharp shell shouldn’t matter too much.” He turned the blade over in his hand watching it crawl up and down its length. “Let me see your dagger.”

Andrasta gave it to him.

Rondel began tapping the insect’s exterior. It clinked. “There has to be more. Things here are supposed to deter us from going forward, not to just protect themselves.” He paused. “Hmm, I wonder . . .”

He took the bug further away from the others, set it on the ground, then blocked its escape. Using Andrasta’s dagger, he pricked his finger. The insect froze. Its antennae grew thrice its normal size. Rondel let a drop of blood fall. The creature’s head extended several more inches out of its shell. A mouth that couldn’t be seen before expanded until it was over two inches in diameter. Razor like teeth appeared as the insect dove on the drop of blood that had fallen to the stone. Its teeth scraped granite. A sucking noise followed. It straightened, antennae moving about. Then it darted toward Rondel.

Rondel slammed his boot down. Another metallic pop followed.

“How’d you know it would do that?” asked Andrasta.

“Purely a hunch. The hard shells reminded me of these flesh eating beetles that I heard live in Jotswan. So, cover up any cuts and be extra careful walking over them. They’ll swarm on the fresh blood and eat you alive.”

Andrasta turned back to the reflective ceiling and walls. She took off her pack. “We’ll need to throw something over our heads and arms in case they drop down on us too.”

“Good point.”

“What about me?” asked Lela. Worry lined her voice.

“We’ve got enough stuff to throw over your head and shoulders too,” said Andrasta.

“I meant my feet.”

They looked down at her bare feet wrapped in cloth. Hints of dried blood adorned the tops of the bindings.

Rondel said, “Someone will have to carry you.”

Andrasta grunted.
Which means me.
“You’ll have to carry my pack,” she told him.

“All right.”

Rondel went first. Andrasta followed with Lela on her back. Despite every inclination to rush through the insects, they took their time, stepping flat footed to minimize damage to their footwear and ensure their balance remained solid. The smell of spoiled milk intensified with each step until Andrasta wondered if she’d ever get the odor out of her nostrils.

Halfway through the hall, a huge lump of the silver beetles fell from the ceiling beside Andrasta. It crashed like a sword against shield. Lela yelped and shifted her weight. Rondel jerked at the noise, brushing into Andrasta. The contact caused Lela to tense further. Andrasta choked out a swear as Lela squeezed her neck in fear.

“Not so tight,” she hissed. “I have to be able to breath.”

They continued on slowly until the floors, walls, and ceiling dulled and only a few outlying insects remained.

“Just a few more steps,” said Rondel. “All right Lela, you should be able to get down now.”

With some extra urging, the girl released her grip and eased herself to the floor.

“That wasn’t too bad, now was it?” asked Rondel.

“Says the person not carrying Lela,” said Andrasta.

“Here, take your pack back while I review the information about the next guardian.”

Andrasta frowned. “What about that part with danger from above?”

“What do you mean? Those bugs were all over the ceiling.”

“Yeah, but they never attacked us, except for that one that smelled your blood. The riddle said something about aim. Any cut from the beetles would have been purely by accident.”

Rondel inclined his head. “You’re right. That is strange.”

Stone grating against stone sounded in the enclosed space, sending a chill across Andrasta’s arms. Her head darted about frantically looking for the source of the noise. Above, on either side of the walls an opening appeared that hadn’t been there before. Long shafts slid from the opening, then quickly pointed down.

“Watch out!” she shouted, grabbing Lela and throwing them both to the side.

Wood clacked against stone. One splintered mere inches from her. Rondel screamed.

She followed his voice. He had been unable to avoid one of the shafts. Though his light armor had offered some protection, one of the spears sliced his side at the ribs.

She swore when his hand came away with blood. His eyes widened as they met each other’s gaze.

The clinking of the beetles behind them rose to a deafening frenzy. With his free hand, Rondel redirected the light of the lantern behind them. Hundreds of shimmering beetles raced toward them on thousands of tiny, scratchy legs.

Andrasta lunged forward, snatched the lantern from Rondel and pushed it into Lela’s hand, shouting, “Run! We’re right behind you.”

She grabbed Rondel by an arm, threw it over a shoulder and got them moving after Lela who wasted no time following Andrasta’s command.

Andrasta glanced down at Rondel’s bleeding side which he held with his other hand. “How bad is it?”

“Bad enough,” he grunted as they turned sharply down another corridor. He snorted, then winced.

“Something funny?”

“Just thinking that the clue made sense after all.”

“I guess it did.”

“Yeah, and to think I actually didn’t think things were going too badly.”

“Yeah, next time you have a thought like that again, keep it to yourself.”

Rondel snorted. “You and I both know that won’t happen.”

Despite their situation, Andrasta grinned. “No, it probably won’t.”

CHAPTER 26

Rondel woke in a haze. First, the smell of old vomit registered, then the ache in his abdomen, and the intense desire to scratch near the pain. The muffled sounds of clinking tickled his ears. His eyes shot open, hand going to his waist in search of a weapon.

Andrasta was at his side. She stayed his hand. “They can’t get in.”

He met her eyes. His heart slowed. Smeared yellow sludge covered her clothing. “What happened to you?”

“Beetle guts.”

“I see. What happened?”

“That shaft must have had something on it because you hadn’t lost a lot of blood, but you lost consciousness. I had to carry you. You’ve been out for a few hours, I think.” Andrasta nodded to Lela. The girl slept curled in a ball. “She did good. Found the door and got it open. We got you inside, but a few beetles made it in before we could close the door.” She looked down at her shirt. “This is what remained of them.”

Rondel regarded Lela. “I guess it’s a good thing you brought her along then.”

“Yeah.” She paused. “She’s pretty shaken up.”

“I imagine so. Has she spoken any about losing her uncle yet?”

“No.”

Doesn’t mean she’s not hurting. I need to think about how best to approach the subject.

Andrasta gestured to his side. “I did the best I could using that stuff you bought from the alchemist in Sagal. You’ll probably want to check it yourself though. I’m not as good with that sort of thing as you.”

Rondel unwrapped the bandage. He winced at the releasing pressure. Andrasta had cleaned the wound well, stopped the bleeding, and dressed it with a poultice of herbs from his pack. He pushed lightly on the puffy red skin, making sure there was no sign of infection. “It looks good. Did you and Lela eat yet?” he asked, shifting subjects.

“Some. Trying to ration what we have. There isn’t a whole lot.”

“That’s what happens when you make last minute decisions.” He sighed. “Water is going to be a problem too if it takes this much time and effort to get past the remaining guardians.”

“Not yet it won’t. There’s a small pool just up ahead. We’ll at least leave here with full skins.” She handed him one.

“Finally, some good news.” He took a long drink. “When do you want to leave?”

“If it was up to me, we would have never stopped. So it’s up to you,” she gestured to Lela, “and her. Her feet aren’t looking great. Thankfully, most of the damage is on the tops and sides.”

“I’ll look at them when she wakes.” He touched his side, wincing from the tenderness. “Hand me my bag. There’s some stuff I bought in the city that’s good for pain. That should help.”

She dragged his things over then moved away to lie on the hard floor. She used her pack as a pillow. “I’m going to sleep. You should do the same. Remember, what’s coming next.”

Despite the vague, convoluted nature of the clues, the information about the next guardian would have been obvious to even a child.

Rondel shuddered.
Snakes.

* * *

Hours passed. How many, no one knew for certain. Rondel guessed at least four or five based on how much of his pain medicine had worn off by the time he awoke. It took him a while to get moving. In addition to the wound, his muscles screamed from all the running and fighting over the last day.

With Andrasta’s help, he redressed his wounds and stretched. Then he saw to Lela’s feet. The girl held back any yelps, but the pain on her face was obvious as he applied a salve to the scrapes and cuts. Thankfully, as Andrasta said, her soles were still in good shape. He gave her a small dose of the same pain medicine he used earlier.

After a quick meal of dried lamb, Andrasta refilled their water skins, and they set off down the tunnel.

He liked to believe that the more he moved the better he felt, but in truth each step pulled and tugged at his wound in ways that made it hard to think about anything else.