Ghalien: A Novel of the Otherworld Read online

Page 11


  The jibe, although aimed at Devlin, struck me as well and somewhere behind me Rhyne snarled in rage and Fenrah had to grab his arm to keep him from tumbling forward.

  Devlin didn't say a word. He merely stood absolutely still, his eyes flashing with withheld anger as his face slowly reddened.

  Everyone in my party was drawn taught like bowstrings and soon one of us was going to snap. My glamour screamed at me to react and I had to work hard to keep it under control.

  Maithar Jarda, on the other hand, didn't seem to notice the bad blood she had stirred up. She took a breath and smoothed her hands down her drab, grey robes. "My own daughter was disobedient and ran off to the mortal world. When we learned of her pregnancy, we cast her from our sanctuary."

  "You banished your own daughter?" Devlin's tone dripped with disgust.

  The Maithar flashed him a cold stare.

  "She had soiled herself by laying with a mortal man!"

  "My mother did the same, but she loved my father and she loved us as well!" Rhyne yelled, his voice breaking.

  "Enough!" Jarda screamed, bolting up from her chair. "This discussion is futile and every minute we waste gives the draghan more time to slink away into the dark."

  Devlin's teeth clenched with a snap. I could tell he wished to continue pleading his case, but the Maithar was right. The draghan had to be found before it could take another innocent.

  Jarda walked around her desk and crossed the room. She pulled the door open and called to the closest Amsihria standing in the grand hall.

  "Show these warriors where the tunnel leading to the well begins."

  She turned her head and looked at us, that facade of superiority still firmly encompassing her.

  "I hope you can track it from there," she muttered as she moved past us once again, heading for her desk. It seemed as if the leader of the weather-wielders had lost all of her bluster.

  Eleven

  Draghan

  The novice who led us to the passageway trembled as she walked and wouldn't step within twenty feet of the tunnel's entrance once we arrived. The portals of light that adorned the upper halls didn't reach this far, so the darkness was eased by torches placed along the walls. Devlin got right to work, his movements stiff and his body radiating the anger that still lingered. He pressed his hand to the cold stone floor and that golden magic flooded out, only to return several seconds later so badly tainted I knew it had found the draghan's glamour. He flexed his hand as if it pained him and shot to his feet, grabbing one of the many torches before taking off down the tunnel.

  "I'll follow him," I told Fenrah, Rhyne and Enorah. "You two take Rhyne back to his room."

  Rhyne opened his mouth to protest, but I held up a hand. "You will do us no good with your injured leg. It will only hinder you and make you a target."

  Enorah squeezed his shoulder to reassure him. Rhyne sighed and let his head hang but didn't argue further.

  "I don't have my sword on me, and you need your bows," I continued. "Get what you think we'll need and come back, as quickly as you can."

  I grabbed another torch and turned toward Enorah. "If you're fast enough, you should be able to catch up with us fairly easily."

  "Be careful, brother," Enorah said as she and Fenrah turned with Rhyne.

  I smiled, "As always, sister."

  Within a few minutes I caught up to Devlin, his focus entirely on following the trail of draghan magic.

  His anger still clung to him like a bad smell, and after we bypassed the well room and began our descent into the Deep Dark, I had had enough. I turned to him, barely able to make his form out in the dark despite the light from the torches we carried.

  "Do not let her words affect you, Devlin," I said. "They mean nothing unless you give them value."

  "You would do well in focusing on our task instead of handing out unwanted advice, especially from one who knows nothing of what my brother and I went through," he snapped back at me.

  My first reaction was surprise. Not once had I ever experienced such vehemence from the eldest O'Brolaigh brother. Anger followed soon afterward, but that was quickly squashed. All of us were allowed our moments of emotional turmoil every now and again. I wasn't about to begrudge Devlin his. I did, however, continue to offer my advice, as unwanted as it may have been.

  "You are wrong, Devlin," I said, hoping my voice sounded more sympathetic than patronizing. "I know all too well what you are going through. I might not have had the same past experiences as you, but I know what it is like to be lashed with words meant to inflict the worst kind of pain."

  He stopped and turned to look at me, though there wasn't much to see in this accursed tunnel. I only smirked and continued, "You forget who my mother is. Her weapons of choice are words with barbs and stings, and she knows exactly how to apply them to cause the most pain and leave the deepest scars."

  Instantly, I felt Devlin's glamour cool, the resentment leaking out of it. True, he didn't have nearly as much magic as Enorah and I, but his was strong for one of the Lorehnin. Feeling somewhat cheered despite our surroundings and the conversation that had passed between us, I gave him a good-natured slap on the shoulder and said, "Now, let's go take our irritation out on this draghan, shall we?"

  Devlin returned a sly grin and said, "The sooner the better."

  * * *

  The convoluted tunnels and passageways beneath the grand halls of the Amsihria's fortress rivaled the underground kingdom of a colossal ant hole. Devlin and I kept our pace brisk, sometimes jogging, sometimes full out running as he followed the draghan's trail of magic like a fish on a line. The deeper into the caverns we went, the colder and damper the air grew. Pretty soon, the all too familiar scent of soggy earth and stone mixed with mildew and death permeated our surroundings, and I couldn't help the goose bumps that crawled up my arms.

  Ah, so much like my lovely fortress, don't you think so, Caedehn dear?

  The Morrigan's voice in my head was about as welcome as an angry scorpion in my shoe.

  Why don't you try and capture that nice little lizard for me. It would make a great addition to my menagerie, and if it proves too unruly, I can just harvest its glamour.

  The images that flooded my mind forced me to pause. Faelorehn men, women and children brought before the Morrigan, forced to kneel in her presence as they shivered from fear and cold, their thread-bare clothes doing little to ward off the elements. I had overseen far too many of my mother's ceremonies and revisiting the horror of those sacrifices didn't help at the moment.

  "Cade? Are you still with me?"

  Devlin's voice helped drag me out of the dark trap my mind was stepping into. I halted and drew in a deep breath.

  "I'm fine. These tunnels stir up bad memories."

  Devlin nodded, the firelight from the torch he held making his gesture seem exaggerated.

  He lowered his voice and said, "I think we're getting close."

  "Good. Now we just have to wait for Enorah and Fenrah." I hoped they hadn't gotten lost while trying to follow us.

  Devlin came to an abrupt stop and I nearly crashed into him. Holding a finger up to his lips, he waved me forward with the torch. I moved as close as I dared, my adrenaline spiking and my glamour fighting me to be set free.

  Patience, I told it, patience . . .

  Whatever Devlin had discovered, I could not see. He held the torch up, but all it did was reveal a black, gaping hole in the floor just ahead of us. Devlin held the light out to me and when I took it, he knelt down and brushed the floor with his fingertips. For a few agonizing seconds, he remained silent, then said, "The magic is thickest around the edge of this opening."

  He looked up at me, his blond hair burnished bronze-gold in the torchlight, his pale blue eyes cold. The grim cut of his mouth a sign that I wouldn't like what he'd say next.

  "I can sense another's magic as well, something lighter with no trace of evil."

  I furrowed my brow, then said in a low voice, "The missing girl."
/>   Devlin turned his attention back to the darkness beneath us. "The trace of her magic has gone stale, it is faded."

  I sighed, feeling somewhat defeated. "Then this won't be a rescue mission."

  Devlin nodded his head solemnly and stood up, placing both hands on his hips and shifting his weight to one leg. "I'm afraid so."

  My fury spiked and then settled. I would enjoy destroying this monster.

  "I can't say for sure whether or not there is another way out of that pit," Devlin said, "but my instincts are telling me no. The buildup of the draghan's glamour is so strong around this opening that it suggests there is no other way out. And he's down there. I can feel his magic."

  "What does it feel like?" I asked, curious despite our grim location.

  Devlin shrugged. "Everyone's and everything's glamour registers differently for me. Sometimes it begins as a tingling in my fingertips, other times I'll get a headache. This one feels like the sun heating my bare skin, only it's more painful. But I can always tell good glamour from bad."

  I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall, trying to ignore the cold dampness seeping through my sleeve. I was intrigued, so I asked him a question I probably shouldn't have, "What would you deduce about glamour that appeared as a pale blue ribbon of light?"

  Devlin arched an eyebrow and studied me closely. Everything about the situation, the wet slime staining my shirt, my nagging concern about Meghan, and the way Devlin watched me, as if he knew too much, all urged me to squirm uncomfortably.

  Fortunately, Devlin cleared his throat and answered before I grew too uneasy, "I would say good glamour, but I'd have to see it myself to tell for sure."

  Devlin's answer was like a balm, even if he wasn't certain. I never believed Meghan could have any evil in her, but the Morrigan's obsessive interest always made me wonder. And besides, she could have come from something sinister. I had, after all.

  Wanting to fill the silence that followed, I drew a breath to ask Devlin what my glamour looked like when a trilling whistle came rolling down the tunnel.

  "That would be the girls," I said, pushing away from the grimy wall and cupping my hands to my mouth. I imitated the sound and then sent to my sister, Where are you?

  Where the tunnel splits three ways, she answered.

  Take the far right tunnel, and we are about a hundred yards further down.

  Soon, Enorah and Fenrah appeared around the next bend, their arms full of weapons, leather armor and a few spare torches.

  "I can't say it will do much good against a draghan," Enorah said, dumping the items in front of me, "especially if this one has matured enough to create fire."

  I took my long sword and armor from the pile on the floor and started fastening the pieces over my chest and arms.

  "Even if it is," Devlin said as he shrugged on a leather gambeson, "it is too damp down here to create a spark."

  "That may be," Fenrah grumbled, checking the strap of her quiver, "but its gaseous breath could still poison us."

  "Are we ready?" Enorah asked once she was done checking all her knives and arrows.

  "Yes," I replied, picking up one of the extra torches they'd brought with them.

  Enorah bent down and fished around for a stone. When her fingers closed around one, she stepped up to the edge of the opening in the ground and let the pebble drop. The clear crack of stone striking stone greeted us a few heartbeats later.

  "Not too far of a fall then," I stated. "Enorah, did you happen to bring any rope?"

  My sister nodded and pulled a long cord from the pack she'd brought with her. One end had a grappling hook attached.

  "It would probably be quicker for us to drop into the cavern as opposed to trying to climb down the rope," my sister said as she started uncoiling it. "We can climb up once we've taken care of the draghan."

  Fenrah took the end with the hook and secured it around the closest stalagmite, tugging it to make sure it was secure.

  "It'll hold," she said. "Now, who wants to be the one to dive into the draghan hole first?"

  "I will," Devlin said, pushing his way to the front of the tunnel.

  "No," I argued, but he held up a hand.

  "I can see its glamour, remember? Once I drop down into that cavern, I'll know exactly where it is."

  "What if you drop down on top of it?" Fenrah asked. "How do we know it isn't lying awake, waiting for us? It could have heard that pebble and come to investigate."

  Devlin cast her a devilish grin and said, "Then you had better be ready to jump in right after me."

  He held his hand over the hole and let the torch drop, its descent reminiscent of a falling star. Like the pebble before it, the torch handle clattered when it struck the stone. The area was clear of draghans.

  "At least there are no sharp rocks to land on," Devlin noted, observing the halo of torch light reflecting off the floor below.

  With one final nod in our direction, he turned and stepped over the lip of the opening, plunging into the waiting abyss. A grunt and thud followed soon afterward and I peered over the edge to see Devlin, surrounded by a ring of firelight, crouching ten feet below.

  Devlin was already moving when I decided he was safe for the time being. He swiveled in a circle, casting the torch out in front of him, searching the shadows for any sign of the draghan.

  "Clear!" he called up before stepping to the side.

  "I'll lower you two down," I said to Enorah and Fenrah, getting down on the floor so that my stomach and chest lay flat. Fortunately, my thick leather armor kept the moisture from seeping in.

  "I could have jumped," Enorah grumbled as she scooted toward the edge of the black hole. "Devlin, catch!"

  Devlin stepped forward again and caught Enorah's torch as it fell. Fenrah threw hers in as well.

  Clasping my sister's hands, I lowered her until my armpits were digging into the edge of the opening.

  "Ready?" I gritted out.

  "Let me go," Enorah said.

  I released my grip on her wrists and she dropped to the floor below.

  Once Enorah had moved out of the way, I gave Fenrah a hand down before lowering myself over the edge as well. The drop wasn't so bad, but the impact jarred me and I was forced into a crouch while I regained my senses. Darkness surrounded us on all sides, what little light the torches provided illuminated nothing.

  "Over there," Devlin hissed, pointing off to our right, "the evil glamour accumulates about fifty feet away."

  "Can it see us?" Fenrah whispered as she drew an arrow from her quiver.

  "I don't know, but I get the feeling it's aware of us and is waiting to see what we do next."

  The magic of my riastrad pulsed just beneath my skin, but I was determined to use it as a last resort.

  "Let's not keep it waiting then," I added with a low snarl, drawing my long sword and taking a few steps.

  With a torch in my other hand, I led our group forward, moving as carefully and slowly as possible. The sickening damp smell of mold and earth was soon overpowered by the distinct stench of draghan. I covered my nose to the best of my ability, but the reek still found a way in.

  "What is that smell?" Fenrah asked in a muffled voice.

  "Draghan breath," Enorah answered, "it's a side-effect of the gas the creature produces."

  My eyes had started to water when a deep, low growling brought me to a dead stop.

  "Looks like we're close enough," Devlin said in a quiet voice that seemed to rasp against the concave walls.

  Carefully, I signaled to Enorah and Fenrah to lower their torches to the ground. As the light moved across the darkness ahead of us, the flames revealed the monster we sought.

  Crouched in the corner of the chamber was a huge, indistinct black shape. The firelight reflected back in the beast's eyes and two rows of large, triangular teeth stood out like menacing beacons in the darkness. Devlin drew in a breath and Fenrah cursed.

  "Is there any way to make more light in here?"

  Fenrah turne
d and looked at me, then Enorah. Both my sister and I knew how to conjure witch fire, but it would drain our glamour.

  "I'll do it," Enorah said, her voice bleak. "You need your glamour in case this gets too out of hand."

  She didn't have to use shil-sciar to know what I was thinking, and she had a point. If this draghan proved to be more of a challenge than we expected, I would have no choice but to warp into my battle fury.

  "Alright," I conceded.

  My sister took a few steps back and then placed her hands in front of her, the fingertips touching, and bowed her head. The spell was a simple one, but it was very draining on one's magic. Gradually, a great ball of light grew between my sister's palms. Still chanting, she pulled her hands apart and released the glowing orb. It floated to the center of the room and hung close to the ceiling. Suddenly, the cave was no longer dark and we had full view of our enemy.

  The draghan, who had continued growling while Enorah worked her spell, pressed itself against the cavern wall, its mouth wide open and its eyes flashing with challenge. The creature was dark in color, brown or green like the mud found on the bottom of a pond. Its skin resembled that of a toad or newt, rough and covered in bumps, with a scattering of brilliant orange specks along its back. Bright, red eyes and a broad, triangular head with a mouth full of huge, serrated triangular teeth completed the picture. All in all, the beast was nearly twenty-five or thirty feet long, its blunt tail making up only a third of its length.

  "It has no wings," Devlin remarked, his short sword and dagger held in front of him.

  I shook my head. "It doesn't need any. It's a ground draghan."

  As a group, we took a step forward, then another, moving like a net to pin the creature against the wall. It wasn't the brightest idea. In my experience, a cornered animal was more dangerous, but we couldn't allow it to escape. We might not get this chance again.

  The draghan scraped at the floor, its claws like flint striking stone. Despite the dampness, the monster managed to find a patch of dryness because a small trail of sparks burned crimson against the ground.

  "Put the torches out!" I commanded.