The Hidden City
‘Did you see any guards?’ Kalten asked.
‘Who’s going to stay up all night to guard a wood pile?’ Talen dropped down onto his stomach and wormed his way under the cart. There was a faint creaking of the tightly-woven limbs of the makeshift basket. ‘Here,’ Talen said. A sword-tip banged against sparhawk’s shin.
Sparhawk took the sword, handed it to Kalten and then leaned down. ‘Pass them out hilt-first,’ he instructed. ‘Don’t poke me with the sharp end of a sword that way.’
‘Sorry.’ Talen continued to pass out weapons and then followed them with their mail-shirts and tunics. They all felt better once they were armed again.
‘Anakha?’ The voice was soft and very light.
‘Is that you, Xanetia?’ Sparhawk realized how foolish the question was almost before it left his lips.
‘Verily,’ she replied. ‘Come away, I prithee. The whisper is the natural voice of stealth, and it doth carry far by night. Let us away ere they who watch this sleeping city come hither in search of the source of our incautious conversation.’
‘We’re going to have to wait a bit,’ Khalad said. ‘Aphrael has to blow air into that cave.’
‘Are you sure this is going to work?’ Berit asked dubiously.
‘No, not really, but it’s worth a try, isn’t it?’
‘You don’t even know for sure that they’re still inside the cave.’
‘That doesn’t really matter. Either way they won’t be able to hide in the cave any more.’ Khalad began to carefully wrap a length of oil-soaked rag around one of his crossbow bolts. Then, being careful to conceal the sparks with his body, he began striking his flint and steel together. After a moment, his tinder caught, he lit his stub of a candle, and brushed the fire out of his tinder. Then he carefully put the candle behind a fair-sized rock.
‘Aphrael seems to be unhappy about this, Khalad,’ Berit said as a chill breeze came up.
‘I wasn’t too happy about what happened to Lord Abriel either,’ Khalad replied bleakly. ‘I had a great deal of respect for that old man, and these monsters with yellow blood tore him to pieces.’
‘You’re doing this for revenge then?’
‘No. Not really. This is just the most practical way to get rid of them. Ask Aphrael to let me know when there’s enough air in the cave.’
‘How long is that likely to take?’
‘I have no idea. All the coal-miners who’ve ever seen it up close are dead.’ Khalad scratched at his beard. ‘I’m not entirely sure what’s going to happen here, Berit. When marsh-gas catches on fire, it just burns off and goes out. Firedamp’s a little more spectacular.’
‘What’s all this business about blowing air into the cave?’ Berit demanded.
Khalad shrugged. ‘Fire’s a living thing. It has to be able to breathe.’
‘You’re just guessing about this, aren’t you? You don’t have any idea at all whether or not it’s going to work – or if it does, what’s going to happen.’
Khalad gave him a tight grin. ‘I’ve got a good working theory.’
‘I think you’re insane. You could set the whole desert on fire with this silly experiment of yours.’
‘Oh, that probably won’t happen.’
‘Probably?’
‘It’s very unlikely. I can just make out that cave mouth. Why don’t I try it?’
‘What happens if you miss?’
Khalad shrugged. ‘I’ll shoot again.’
‘That’s not what I meant. I was –’ Berit broke off, listening intently. ‘Aphrael says that the mixture’s right now. You can shoot whenever you’re ready.’
Khalad held the point of his crossbow bolt in the candle-flame, turning it slowly to make certain that the oily rag was evenly ablaze. Then he set the burning bolt in place, laid the forestock of his crossbow on a rock, and took careful aim. ‘Here goes,’ he said, slowly pressing the lever.
The crossbow gave a ringing thud, and the burning arrow streaked through the darkness and disappeared into the narrow cave mouth.
Nothing happened.
‘So much for your good working theory,’ Berit said sardonically.
Khalad swore, banging his fist on the gravel. ‘It has to work, Berit. I did everything exactly –’
The sound was beyond noise when the hill exploded, and a ball of fire hundreds of feet across seethed skyward out of the crater that had suddenly replaced the hill. Without thinking, Khalad threw himself across Berit’s head, covering the back of his own neck with his hands.
Fortunately, what fell on them was small gravel for the most part. The larger rocks fell much further out into the desert.
It continued to rain gravel for several minutes, and the two young men, battered and shaken, lay tensely clenched, enduring the cataclysmic results of Khalad’s experiment.
Gradually, the stinging rain subsided.
‘You idiot!’ Berit screamed. ‘You could have killed us both!’
‘I must have miscalculated just a little,’ Khalad conceded, shaking the dirt out of his hair. ‘I’ll have to work on it a bit before we try it again.’
‘Try it again? What are you talking about?’
‘It does work, Berit,’ Khalad said in his most reasonable tone of voice. ‘All I have to do is fine-tune it a little bit. Every experiment’s got a few rough places around the edges.’ He stood up, banging the side of his head with the heel of his hand to shake the ringing out of his ears. ‘I’ll get it perfected, my Lord,’ he promised, helping Berit to his feet. ‘The next time won’t be nearly so bad. Now, why don’t you ask Aphrael to take us back to camp? We’re probably being watched, so let’s not arouse any suspicions.’
Chapter 28
‘We’re inside the city, Aphrael,’ Sparhawk announced silently after he had cast the spell.
‘How did you manage that?’ She sounded surprised.
‘It’s a long story. Tell Khalad that I’ve marked the passageway that leads into the valley. He’ll know what to look for.’
‘Have you found out where they’re keeping Mother yet?’
‘Speculatively.’
There was a long pause. ‘I’d better come there,’ she decided.
‘How will you find us?’
‘I’ll use you as a beacon. Just keep talking to me.’