The Way Into Darkness: Book Three of The Great Way (55 page)

Cazia’s head jerked toward him in sudden surprise. She didn’t even look angry, just shocked.
 

“To help them,” Bully answered. He sounded pleased to be able to talk about this, as though he was bragging about his people’s good works. “To save them from a life of indolence and passivity. What better way to defeat the Evening People than by transforming them into something admirable: a powerful hunter?”
 

Cazia still couldn’t speak. Tejohn said, “The Blessing are loose in Kal-Maddum.”
 

“Yes,” Bully said. “That was unexpected. But a curse like that, with no sense of natural balance or self-control, will eventually hunt the land bare and die out. When that happens, Kal-Maddum will be ready for preyslavesacrament to sanctify it.”
 

“Your people created The Blessing,” Cazia said. “You. Alligaunts. You unleashed them on us.”
 

Bully’s answer was wary. “We unleashed it on the Evening People to end their reign of agricultural horror. It wasn’t intended for you.”
 

“That’s why The Blessing are afraid of water,” Tejohn said. “That’s why they can’t hold their breath. So they won’t come after your people.”
 

“That’s correct,” the alligaunt answered. “We can undo the curse if one of the Sacred Hunters is bitten, of course, but it’s troublesome.”
 

“Troublesome!” Cazia barked.
 

“Hold still,” Tejohn said. He released his legs from the alligaunt’s torso, kicking back slightly. Then he slung his shield on his back.
 

“Thank you,” Bully said. “It was difficult for me to breathe. May I take hold of the gem with my hand now?”
 

“No,” Cazia said. “We are not finished.”
 

Tejohn was surprised by that. What more did they have to say? The alligaunts were a powerful and dangerous enemy--the greatest enemy humans had ever faced. Somehow, he had to get that news back to his people, if that was even possible.
 

“I understand,” Bully said. It hadn’t moved except to brace its tail against the braid below. “You are hunters, too, yes? But right now, you’re hunting for information. I don’t know how Examiner will feel about it, but I find it a mark in your favor. It is bold of you to risk violence for a simple conversation. However, now that you have taken your ‘prey,’ you should withdraw to safety. If you are caught here--”
 

“Bully, listen to my question, because it’s as important as the one my companion just asked you. Can your spell translate the word
brother
?”
 

“Yes, it can,” the alligaunt answered, daring to shift position slightly.
 

Tejohn saw Cazia draw the spiked circlet back and begin the hand motions for a spell.
 

Bully, still unable to see them, continued to answer the question. “A brother is one of the bonds a person can have. A male nestmate. A weak bond among my people, but--”
 

Cazia finished her spell. The spiked circlet shot from her hands with extraordinary force, punching through the alligaunt’s body and pinning it to the braid behind it. Bully shuddered several times before falling still. Blood trailed from its body like smoke from an extinguished candle.
 

Her fists clenched at her sides, Cazia floated above the alligaunt’s body, trembling with rage.
 

Tejohn kept his voice low. “Killing a helpless prisoner is dishonorable thing.”
 

She spun toward him. “That thing wasn’t a prisoner. We’re the prisoners.”
 

“I won’t argue with that.” He waved his hand beside her to push the blood away. “We shouldn’t linger here.”
 

She agreed, hurrying with him back the way they had come. “What’s next?” she asked. “What do we do with what we’ve learned?”
 

Start the killing.
“If I thought there was any way we could make it to shore,” he answered, “I would suggest we retreat and spread the news. Warn others. But I don’t see how we can.”

She thought for a few moments. “Neither do I,” Cazia said. They stopped, and by the dim light of a nearby globe, he could see wildness in her expression. “And that’s just fine by me. Even if we did warn the others, the alligaunts could send another curse after us while they relax far from the battlefield. I think we should
kill as many as we can
and scare the life out of the rest, and I think I know how we can do it.”
 

She took off through the chambers, pushing herself from braid to braid by her hands and feet, lying out flat so she could move with as little resistance as possible.
 

Tejohn could not do the same. His armor was too heavy for him to lie out flat in the water, and the effort of leaping from one end of the chambers to another in all this water with all this gear had already taxed his aging muscles.
 

He caught up with her in the blue-lit chamber as she finished collecting the four black iron bars. Her rope wrapped around each of them, holding them to her back like a pack. “Look how that board is mounted,” she said, waving vaguely toward the rack.
 

Tejohn stepped back out of the chamber and went to the back. The light here wasn’t strong, but he could see the board was attached to the heavy vertical braces by some sort of black putty.

He ran his hand along it. It was as smooth as new ice and as solid as rock. The stone wrapped around the individual wooden braids as though it had been poured over them. “What is it?”
 

Cazia joined him, her mace in hand. “Something the alligaunts make,” she said unhelpfully. “Do you remember the indestructible buildings we found at the edge of the sea? That’s what it was made of. I wish there was a tool we could take to create our own.”
 

“I’ll keep an eye out for one.” Tejohn took a deep breath, knowing just how strange that was down here in the depths, but he’d already become accustomed to strangeness. “What’s your plan? To remove the hooks from the portal and close it? To strand them here?”
 

“No, although I like the idea of starving these hunters. No, their magic is too strong. They would just move somewhere else. Into the ocean, maybe.” She jerked her head, indicating he should follow. He did. Better for them to talk on the move so she would slow down. “Remember why Lar wanted to come to Tempest Pass in the first place? He believed his uncle Ghoron had a deadly version of the Fifth Gift, one that could ‘clean out’ the insides of people’s skulls, turning them into water.”
 

Tejohn’s legs were becoming really tired now. “You mean, just like the one you cast when you broke the round light off the end of the balcony.”

She gave him a sly, sideways look. “You could tell?”
 

Once, many lifetimes ago, he would have interpreted that expression as treason. “I could.”
 

“Well, I’m a wizard now, and I worked it out. Obviously. And this was the direction--” She paused, startled. The next chamber ahead was unlike the others: there were no small, decorative braids, only heavy braces.
 

“This was the direction of the nearest of the gigantic support braids.”
 

She was right. Just ahead of them were three massive tree trunks braided together like a child’s pigtails. Up close, they were bigger than they first appeared; each was nearly as wide around as the low tower in the Finstel mining camp. Around that central braid were at least twenty more braids, each trunk as thick as an old oak. The horizontal braces ran straight out from the chambers into those peripheral braids, anchoring themselves through complicated tangle-knots.
 

“I know it won’t really get them all,” Cazia said. “I wish I knew a way to do it, but I don’t. Still, if we can bring down this whole city, cover over their portal, and kill a whole lot of alligaunts, maybe they’d start believing in Fire and Fury.”
 

While the two of them stood there, marveling at the size of the support braid, a cloud of dirty water floated by, and the braids scraped against each other, creaking and groaning.
 

“Maybe it won’t take much,” Cazia said.
 

Tejohn wasn’t so sure. “I’ll watch your back.”
 

She began to cast the Fifth Gift, focusing on one of the smaller trunks. It only took her a moment, but after she finished her hand motions, she reached out and pressed against the smooth, barkless surface.
 

The wood cracked and collapsed inward slightly. The hollow space she’d created was very narrow. It also came very close to the surface of the braid without breaking through.
 

“How did you know about the alligaunts and The Blessing?” she asked, beginning her spell again.
 

“
They were normal voices, but no one was there to speak,
” Tejohn said. He stood with his back to her, staring into the murk all around them for approaching enemies. “That’s what Dhe told us about the day he was lured to the beach for his ritual. He said he could tell when someone was nearby, but on that day, he was alone when he heard voices telling him to come to his holy place, or whatever it was.”
 

“I’d forgotten that,” Cazia said.
 

“Dhe had quite a few revelations for us,” Tejohn said. “That seemed like a small one until you told me about the Tilkilit and the People Above. Is this conversation too distracting?”

“No,” she said. “It’s helping me hold onto my anger. I’m going to try one of these gigantic ones next. Fire and Fury, do you really think the alligaunts just wanted to turn their enemies into vicious carnivores?”

Tejohn glanced back at her. She’d turned her focus to one of the trunks that was as thick all the way through as a tower. Could she really do this? It occurred to him that, deep below the lake surface, there would be no way to check her cheeks for tears.
 

He banished that thought immediately and returned to his vigil, holding onto a heavy braid to keep from sinking out of sight. That worry came from a life that was dead now.
 

“I think it’s a sign of how they think,” he said. “Have you noticed how boggled Bully was by the idea we would risk our lives down here? The
 
alligaunts--Sacred Hunters, I mean--might be strong, skilled with magic, and kings of many lands, but I think they’re too arrogant to try to understand their enemy.”
 

She did not respond, so Tejohn kept talking. “If I were going to create a transformation spell to make my enemies turn against each other, I’d turn them into soldiers. Strong, fast, skin so thick, it’s like armor. Any tyr would. But the alligaunts don’t think in terms of war.”
They would never make a suicide attack like the one we’re making.

Of course, he didn’t say that. He glanced over at the young scholar…so much younger than he had been when he first sought out his destruction on the battlefield all those years ago. Her brow was furrowed, her lip curled in concentration.
 

Peradaini society valorized the soldier in every way. They were made leaders and kings, were the subject of songs and plays, and heard cheers when they returned from a campaign. In contrast, scholars were treated with fear and suspicion; people stared at them, looking for a telltale tear on their cheeks.
 

Now, after the collapse of everything, the most decorated soldier of his generation was standing guard while a scholar who was not even old enough to be betrothed was striking the blow that might drive their enemy from their land.
 

She cast several more times, her expression rapt. Tejohn turned his attention outward, looking into the chambers around him for some sign of movement. He saw none, but it was so dark that a dozen alligaunts could have been marshaling nearby and he wouldn’t have known. There were few lights nearby, and those few were not close.
 

A sudden shiver of fear and helplessness ran through him. Down here, far below the surface, his skills with spear and shield were nearly useless. All his training--all his assurance in his own power--was gone. Cazia Freewell needed a bodyguard, but all she had was him, a man glad of the chance to rest his tired muscles.
 

When Cazia moved to another chamber, he followed. She leaned through the opening toward the column, beginning her spell again, and he took up position behind her.
 

Finally, after casting several times, she turned to him. “I’ve sabotaged two of the main trunks and fourteen of the support braids. Do you think that’s enough? Should I do more or just go on to the next?”
 

Child, you have built and destroyed more structures than I have.
“If you have a question about stabbing someone, let me know. Otherwise, I’m not much use.”
 

“I think we know that’s not true,” she said. Then: “That’s good enough. Let’s circle around the hive.”
 

She pulled herself through the tunnel opening. Tejohn followed, leaping across the dark chasms as quickly as he could. “Don’t get too far ahead.”
 

Looking chagrined, she waited for him. Together, they kept a slower pace. She was anxious and excitable. “Sorry. I just want to get this done before I get caught.”
 

“If you do get caught,” Tejohn said calmly, “I want to be close enough to kill the one who catches you.”
 

She glanced back at him, and in the darkness, he could see she was smiling. “After the next one, we should be done. I think. It’s hard to tell how much stress this place was built to handle, but--”
 

There was a shout from the commons, then a great cheer. It startled both of them, and they peered toward the center of the structure. An alligaunt swam by, a short white wand in its hand. Shortly after, a school of fish swam by. They were thick and round, like a grown man’s leg, and their scales flashed silver.