“Water! Fetch the buckets! Quickly!”
Annon saw the flames begin to lick into the upper planks, the fire coiling along the iron rungs and spreading. Men and bodies were everywhere, some jumping, others shoving to get away. Muttered oaths and curses met his ears. A few ran to the edge of the lake and began filling buckets. The first few arriving hurled the water at the flames, causing more billowing smoke to fill the area.
“More water! The whole thing will come down if we don’t. Hurry, you fools! Run to the lake. Go!”
Walking quickly, Annon approached the main doors. He saw a black-robed Rike wrest open the enormous carved door and dart inside. The heavy door remained ajar. He thanked the spirits again and bid them leave. With the smoke and commotion, no one would think to notice him. He gained the edge of the door, listening to the footfalls of the boots as they disappeared into the dark swath of cave ahead. In the time he waited at the door, he studied the locking mechanism of the gates, the chains and pulleys that closed and secured the door. Nizeera padded up soundlessly next to him.
Nizeera, follow him.
She loped into the cave, vanishing into the shadows beyond. Annon stood by the door, impatiently waiting for his companions to come. Would Lukias betray them now, seeing them on the verge of success? He ground his teeth, staring at the smoke, wondering when they would arrive. Men toting sloshing buckets approached as they hobbled back to the scaffolding, trying to put out the fires. Annon ran his palm along the thick bronze band on the edge of the door. The wood was thick and heavy, the hinges enormous in size. Once fastened shut, it would not be easy to open, except from the inside. He hoped that gave them an advantage.
“Hold there. Who are you?” someone shouted in the fog of smoke. “Where did you—?”
The sound was cut off instantly. There was a bark of commotion, the sound of a fist striking flesh. From the plumes of smoke they came—Khiara, Erasmus, and Lukias. They sprinted to Annon and the doors and he waved them inside. Shouts of alarm sounded from the smoke, revealing the confusion of the Rikes.
“What is happening? Are you hurt? Who was that?”
“I swear it was Lukias.”
“Are you sure?”
“I swear it! I’ve seen him before!”
Annon and the others shoved the doors closed. The cave was plunged into blackness. Annon summoned an orb of fire into his hand, providing an aura of blue-violet light. He pointed the light at the chains and pulleys. “Erasmus, can you determine the proper use of the levers?”
The Preachán was already moving, examining the intricate tangle of gears and chains. His eyes darted this way and that. Then he nodded and hefted on a pulley rope. The chains rattled and three crossbars, each a different height, came down and nested together, sealing the door shut from the inside. The workers and Rikes were stranded outside.
Excitement churned in Annon’s stomach. He looked to the others quickly, his eyes dancing with energy. “We must be quick and find the inner sanctum. A Rike made it ahead of us and he is probably warning the others. I sent Nizeera ahead—”
“The cat will die then,” Lukias said, his face flushed with emotion. “There are guardians here that can protect against spirit creatures. Magic defends these halls.”
“Of what sort?” Annon pressed, holding the fiery globe closer to Lukias. “Either you help us or hinder us, Lukias. Which is it?”
The Rike’s face twisted with conflicting spasms of emotion. “This is our lair, Druidecht. Your power will not prevail here.”
“Which is it, Lukias? Will you aid us or thwart us?”
Khiara took a step closer, her face impassive.
“I truly did not believe you would make it this far,” Lukias said through clenched teeth. He wiped sweat from his forehead. “While I was wrong about that, I’m convinced you will not make it past these defenses without my help. Let me go to the inner sanctum and plead your case. Let me see if they will treat with you. You are not helpless, that much is clear. Let me go on ahead of you.”
Annon shook his head. “We’ve trusted you this far, Lukias. But it appears our truce is at an end. If you will not reveal the dangers ahead, then you are of no use to us.”
Lukias’s eyes narrowed challengingly. “Will you murder me, Druidecht?”
Erasmus’s voice was thick with anger. “What do you call the attack at the prince’s manor in Silvandom? Surely it was not an offer to negotiate.”
The Rike looked at the Preachán disdainfully. “We were ordered to take you, if possible, kill you if not. Clearly our ends were not achieved. The Arch-Rike won’t underestimate you again. Look at it from my side, Annon!” he said, grasping the younger man’s shoulder. “They recognized me out there. I was seen with you. Either I am here under duress or willingly. My excuses vanish if I aid you. The ring tells you I speak the truth. I have been trying to save my own life. I gave you what you sought. I still believe you will fail. Will you kill me as well as yourselves?”
Annon saw the flames begin to lick into the upper planks, the fire coiling along the iron rungs and spreading. Men and bodies were everywhere, some jumping, others shoving to get away. Muttered oaths and curses met his ears. A few ran to the edge of the lake and began filling buckets. The first few arriving hurled the water at the flames, causing more billowing smoke to fill the area.
“More water! The whole thing will come down if we don’t. Hurry, you fools! Run to the lake. Go!”
Walking quickly, Annon approached the main doors. He saw a black-robed Rike wrest open the enormous carved door and dart inside. The heavy door remained ajar. He thanked the spirits again and bid them leave. With the smoke and commotion, no one would think to notice him. He gained the edge of the door, listening to the footfalls of the boots as they disappeared into the dark swath of cave ahead. In the time he waited at the door, he studied the locking mechanism of the gates, the chains and pulleys that closed and secured the door. Nizeera padded up soundlessly next to him.
Nizeera, follow him.
She loped into the cave, vanishing into the shadows beyond. Annon stood by the door, impatiently waiting for his companions to come. Would Lukias betray them now, seeing them on the verge of success? He ground his teeth, staring at the smoke, wondering when they would arrive. Men toting sloshing buckets approached as they hobbled back to the scaffolding, trying to put out the fires. Annon ran his palm along the thick bronze band on the edge of the door. The wood was thick and heavy, the hinges enormous in size. Once fastened shut, it would not be easy to open, except from the inside. He hoped that gave them an advantage.
“Hold there. Who are you?” someone shouted in the fog of smoke. “Where did you—?”
The sound was cut off instantly. There was a bark of commotion, the sound of a fist striking flesh. From the plumes of smoke they came—Khiara, Erasmus, and Lukias. They sprinted to Annon and the doors and he waved them inside. Shouts of alarm sounded from the smoke, revealing the confusion of the Rikes.
“What is happening? Are you hurt? Who was that?”
“I swear it was Lukias.”
“Are you sure?”
“I swear it! I’ve seen him before!”
Annon and the others shoved the doors closed. The cave was plunged into blackness. Annon summoned an orb of fire into his hand, providing an aura of blue-violet light. He pointed the light at the chains and pulleys. “Erasmus, can you determine the proper use of the levers?”
The Preachán was already moving, examining the intricate tangle of gears and chains. His eyes darted this way and that. Then he nodded and hefted on a pulley rope. The chains rattled and three crossbars, each a different height, came down and nested together, sealing the door shut from the inside. The workers and Rikes were stranded outside.
Excitement churned in Annon’s stomach. He looked to the others quickly, his eyes dancing with energy. “We must be quick and find the inner sanctum. A Rike made it ahead of us and he is probably warning the others. I sent Nizeera ahead—”
“The cat will die then,” Lukias said, his face flushed with emotion. “There are guardians here that can protect against spirit creatures. Magic defends these halls.”
“Of what sort?” Annon pressed, holding the fiery globe closer to Lukias. “Either you help us or hinder us, Lukias. Which is it?”
The Rike’s face twisted with conflicting spasms of emotion. “This is our lair, Druidecht. Your power will not prevail here.”
“Which is it, Lukias? Will you aid us or thwart us?”
Khiara took a step closer, her face impassive.
“I truly did not believe you would make it this far,” Lukias said through clenched teeth. He wiped sweat from his forehead. “While I was wrong about that, I’m convinced you will not make it past these defenses without my help. Let me go to the inner sanctum and plead your case. Let me see if they will treat with you. You are not helpless, that much is clear. Let me go on ahead of you.”
Annon shook his head. “We’ve trusted you this far, Lukias. But it appears our truce is at an end. If you will not reveal the dangers ahead, then you are of no use to us.”
Lukias’s eyes narrowed challengingly. “Will you murder me, Druidecht?”
Erasmus’s voice was thick with anger. “What do you call the attack at the prince’s manor in Silvandom? Surely it was not an offer to negotiate.”
The Rike looked at the Preachán disdainfully. “We were ordered to take you, if possible, kill you if not. Clearly our ends were not achieved. The Arch-Rike won’t underestimate you again. Look at it from my side, Annon!” he said, grasping the younger man’s shoulder. “They recognized me out there. I was seen with you. Either I am here under duress or willingly. My excuses vanish if I aid you. The ring tells you I speak the truth. I have been trying to save my own life. I gave you what you sought. I still believe you will fail. Will you kill me as well as yourselves?”
