The Way Into Darkness: Book Three of The Great Way (51 page)

Cazia, I’m sorry.
It was hopeless, but he struggled anyway, fighting the blinding pain in his lungs, the flashing lights behind his eyes, and his own reflexive urge to murder himself by inhaling. It was a fight he knew he could not win.
 

And he didn’t. The moment came when he could endure no longer. Tejohn gasped in a lungful of water.

Chapter 32

She could breathe. As absurd as it seemed, the alligaunts’ gem didn’t just translate for her; it made the water surging into her lungs feel like air. She could breathe it in without drowning, and she did, gasping the murky water in panicked gulps.
 

Fire take every last alligaunt on Kal-Maddum, was this another test? Cazia hated being bound. Hated the darkness. Hated the way the press of the water caused the strap from her quiver to dig into her shoulder. Hated to feel the strap break and to lose those darts. Hated being helpless. She had already been dragged so far beneath the surface that the light from above was fading.
 

Deep water.
Two words to strike terror into any sensible person.
 

But she could breathe.
Second Plunder.
If she could get away with it. And with her life.
 

“Welcome to our realm,” the alligaunt said. Its voice was just as clear beneath the water as it had been up on the surface. “By now, both of you have discovered the true extent of the enchantments on those gems.”
 

“Fire take you!” Tejohn snapped. He was alive somewhere in the dark. Cazia felt a flood of relief that Stoneface had remembered to hold on to his gem. Cazia herself hadn’t consciously thought of it, but she had been so panic-stricken that she’d clenched her fist and hadn’t let go. “Fire take you all. Why didn’t you warn us? Why didn’t you ask our leave?”
 

“All will be explained,” the alligaunt responded, “once we reach the city.”
 

City? For a moment, Cazia was convinced that the creature’s translation gem was faulty. Then she noticed twinkling lights ahead. The
way the water flowed
against her eyes made her want to shut them, but she didn’t. As they approached, the lights became larger and more numerous.
 

Great Way, was that supposed to be a city? This wasn’t a collection of buildings, the way Peradain had been. It was more like a gigantic curving wall that stretched from the bottom of the lake all the way to the surface. It wasn’t until she was quite close that she realized it wasn’t really a wall; it was made of thousands of long braids of pale wood, all woven together to form arches and tunnel openings. Like a hive.
 

Alligaunts swam into and out of those gaps. Some carried little lanterns. Some carried odd tools. The ones who had neither chased small schools of fish.
 

Cazia suddenly understood: humans on dry land had to build low to the ground, but alligaunts could swim straight up, if they wanted. No stairs necessary, and since wood floated, they wouldn’t have to worry that it might collapse onto them, only how they would anchor it.
 

The pace of the creatures dragging her slowed. The ropes coiled and extended, setting her on a balcony just outside the mouth of one of the tunnels. There was a light above and below, but the tunnel itself was quite dark. Cazia peered into it. Dozens of faintly glowing eyes watched them.
 

Guards. The lariats around Cazia’s wrists loosened and released her as though they had a mind of their own. As Tejohn was lowered onto the platform beside her, his ropes began to slacken and he reached for his sword.
 

She slapped her hand over his. When their eyes met, she flicked her gaze behind them for just a moment. He understood but he didn’t relax.
Great Way, he wants to die fighting right here and now.
 

“Please accept our apologies,” the alligaunt said. “I promised to explain when we reached the city, and we are here. My name is very difficult to say with mouths shaped as yours are, so please call me Speaker.”
 

Well, if he wasn’t going to share his name, Cazia wouldn’t share hers, either. “Nice to meet you, Speaker. You can call me Scholar.”
I should have said Wizard.
 

“And I am Tyr,” Tejohn said. “Explain yourself.”
 

If Speaker took exception to that, he hid it well. “We had to bring you here, but we could not ask you to simply take the gems and submerge yourselves. Could you have put your faces in the water and breathed in to test the potency of our magic? Of course not. You are mammals—a kind of ape, it appears—and your survival instincts can not be overridden.”
 

Several other alligaunts swam up and stared, openly curious. Evidently, bringing other animals down to the city was a rare thing. Cazia noted that a pair of alligaunts were armed with a double-spiked metal circlet around their tails. “We have met strange, thinking creatures many times in many places, and we have learned that this method, though initially upsetting, is the most efficient way.”
 

“And what if we’d dropped the stone you gave us?” Tejohn asked. “What then?”
 

Speaker leaned to his left in a motion she instinctively understood was a shrug. Their magic even translated body language. “The gems are easily found.”
 

Cazia tried to make her posture as neutral as possible. “Why did you bring us here?”
 

“We are hunters. We hunt beasts as our prey, but we also hunt for creatures that are more than animals to converse with. We must decide what the relationship between your people and mine will be. You have already solved the rock pile puzzle, so you are welcome here for the next assessment.”
 

“I guess whether we want to be here,” Tejohn said obstinately, “is beside the point.”
 

“I apologize a second time,” Speaker said, “but we must know. However, we want you to feel safe and trusted. Do you see? We return your spear and the spell-disruptor. I’m sure we do not need to instruct you to keep the disruptor away from your gems.”
 

Alligaunts swam above them and dropped Tejohn’s spear and Cazia’s mace. Both caught their weapons as they sank.
Where’s my quiver?
Perhaps they didn’t see it fall. As Cazia slid her mace into her belt, she turned an imploring look at Tejohn. He gave her a reassuring look in return and did not strike Speaker dead on the spot.
 

“We return your weapons as gestures of peace,” Speaker said. If he felt there was any danger that Tejohn would strike at him, he did not show it. Clearly, the alligaunts did not consider them a threat. “We do not wish for you to feel vulnerable or helpless. We want you to feel like yourselves. In this way, we will better understand your kind. Here are duplicate gems so you will have your hands free.”
 

Some sort of broad eelskin strap sank down toward them next. Another of the alligaunts’ gems had been embedded on the inside. The alligaunts wore theirs, she noticed, on the upper part of their forelegs. Cazia and Tejohn did the same. They tied the straps around their upper arms, their fingers clumsy in the heavy water. Cazia felt the magic flow into her.

The murky water pressed against her open eyes and filled her mouth. She thought the pressure of it would ache inside her lungs like an overfull waterskin, but she didn’t seem to be breathing it in. She took a deep breath; it was no more uncomfortable than breathing during a rainstorm.
 

Still, a small voice in her head refused to let her give back the first gem. Speaker had been right; her instinct for survival was too strong to risk drowning. Under the guise of rubbing her nose, she tucked the gem inside her cheek.
 

“We came to you to help you,” Cazia said. “We wanted to warn you about a curse that has been spreading across Kal-Maddum, so you could protect your people.”
 

The alligaunts who had gathered around glanced at each other in a way that was full of disdain, then smugly swam away. Something about Cazia’s question had made it seem that the humans were beneath their notice. Had she insulted them?
 

Speaker’s body language was more neutral. “There will be time for those discussions after.”
 

Cazia did her best to hide her annoyance. It was true that the grunts disliked water, but that didn’t mean the alligaunts were safe from them. “What if we don’t pass your next test?” Cazia asked. “Will you still talk to us? Will you eat us?”
 

“Examiner will present the tests and make the recommendation. The only way you would die is through some sort of misadventure, which is both rare and regrettable. In any event, we would not eat you, since we have not hunted you. You bodies would be used to sustain our prey animals, but I say again, this is exceedingly rare.”
 

Cazia noticed Tejohn shift his position to prepare his shield to be readied quickly. He said, “I would really prefer a better answer than
rare and regrettable
, like
We would never do that to our kidnap victims.
”
 

“We do not have the same horror of eating that you do. We have obviously eaten many humans over the years, and humans have eaten us. There is no shame or recrimination in this. We are hunters. The risks inherent in the hunt are sacred to us. The Little Spinner makes a meal of every devouring thing.”
 

“The Little Spinner!” Tejohn cried out. “You know the gods?”
 

“Of course,” Speaker said. He sounded pleased. “I was hoping you’d recognize the reference. It is a mark in your favor. The Little Spinner is the spirit of all things that move in cycles, from the stars in the sky to the seeds on the bank. Monument is the spirit of all things that resist change. Song notes and remembers all things. Above them all, The Great Way is the great connected web of all things as it moves through time. Yes? The source of all magic influence. You understand these sacred truths?”
 

“What about Fury?” Tejohn answered. “What about Fire?”
 

Cazia glanced around at the lights glowing through the murk. The tunnel behind them was dark; the watching eyes were gone or hidden somehow. How well could water creatures like alligaunts really grasp the concept of Fire?
 

Speaker leaned forward. Cazia would have found it threatening if the translation magic hadn’t explained that the gesture was pure curiosity. “We do not have divine concepts like this in our tradition. Would you please explain?”
 

“Fury is the god of humankind,” Tejohn said simply. “He is the only god who feels emotion, and he represents all of us. Fire is the god of those taken from The Way before their time, the force that delivers untimely death.”
 

“Ah,” Speaker said with a touch of disappointment. “Thank you for explaining. This will be a matter best discussed with Examiner, when she arrives to interview you.”
 

“Fury is real,” Cazia said. “I have felt Fury’s spark in a moment of terrible difficulty and despair.”
 

“I would never discount your experience,” Speaker said carefully, “but we are a people of great magics and subtle understanding. We have hunted beneath skies of astonishing colors, amid wonders undreamt by your kind. The so-called Evening People who were your stingy patrons for so many years have a prey animal’s understanding of magic. They can infuse dead things like stone and crystal with their power, or prod their
crops
”--he said that word with distaste--“to grow a bit faster, but they can not achieve the glories that my people have created.”
 

“Tell us,” Cazia said.
Tell me everything
.
 

“Magic is aware,” Speaker said. “When a powerful, skillful adept casts a spell, they do not just exert power. They put their intention into that power and the magic does their bidding. Do you see the groomers in the city?”
 

He nodded toward the braided structure beside them. Cazia saw a little wooden construct, shaped like a beetle or a crab, crawling along the branches. When it reached an especially thick stem growing out from the braid, it unfolded a golden saw blade and began to cut.
 

“Do you see? These are the most minor of our creations. The tiniest fragments of The Great Way to which we have given will. We have others that hold the gods at bay, that safeguard the city, that create shelters out of bare ground, that smite enemies unworthy of a decent hunt.”
 

“Ah,” Cazia said. “The lariats you used on us?”
 

“Yes! They are the simplest of tools, but they do as we wish.”
 

“I’ve felt this,” Cazia said, and it was true. After she’d gone hollow, she could direct her iron darts at any enemy and always hit the spot she wanted to hit.
Magic understands our intentions.
Was that why she could touch the leather bracer with Ivy’s kinzchu stone in it without being affected? Ivy had not chosen to use it against her.