Obsidian Ridge

Chapter Thirty-Five

Quinn had never been much for waiting. He was more of a man of action. Sitting here trapped while Xeries was out there masquerading was maddeningly difficult. Every few moments he would get up and pace the floor. He would examine the cracks in the walls. He would scan the faces of the decrepit women-the past wives of Xeries.

Each of the women had been placed in a fabric-lined coffin. Those in turn had each been set inside small, carved-out recesses in the black stone wall. And each of those had been equipped with a heavy door, all of which were open at the moment, giving Quinn a spectacular view of something he wished he'd never seen.

Not one of them moved. Not an inch. They were like life-sized dolls, displaying their tortured existence for the amusement of any who happened to gaze upon them. Quinn wasn't able to look for more than a few moments. He shuddered every time he thought about Mariko being turned into one of those helpless, terrible creatures. It was too much to bear.

Finishing his latest rounds through the small room, he sat back down beside Mariko.

"I have failed you," he said, not looking at her.

"You haven't failed," she said through the mimmio. "I'm not gone or dead yet."

He smiled. "You never did know when to give up, did you?"

Mariko shook her head. "Never will."

Quinn took her hand in his and sat beside her in silence. Since the Obsidian Ridge had arrived over Llorbauth, this was the most time they had spent together.

He turned, lifted his eyes to hers, and looked into them. "Well, if you're not ready to give up, then I have a question for you."

Mariko smiled. "What's that?" asked the furry creature in her hands.

"Will you marry me?"

She cocked her head to one side, as if she were trying to figure out if he was joking or not. Then, apparently satisfied that he wasn't, she nodded.

"Yes, Quinn, I will marry you."

From high up on the wall, a noise caught their attention.

Quinn stood and stared up at the inhabitants of the room. A chill ran down his spine to think that one of them might be creaking around in her final resting spot, not quite dead, watching him propose marriage to the woman who was likely going to occupy the last empty place on the wall.

The faces of all the decrepit old bodies stared down on him as he examined them. Then one of them moved.

Quinn felt the pit of his stomach drop out, and his skin went cold. The suffering that woman must have endured- and continued to endure. He looked away.

Mariko stood beside him, and she pointed at the space on the wall.

"It's the coffin. Something is moving the coffin."

Quinn pulled his eyes back up. She was right. It wasn't the wife moving, but the coffin that held her. It shifted side to side, very slowly at first, but then it grew more noticeable, until finally it started to shake quite violently.

The coffin jerked forward, and the body of the woman inside flopped out, tumbling past the open door and falling head over heels onto the floor, three coffin heights below.

The body landed with a thud, and Quinn had to cover his face. The coffin came down right behind the woman, shattering as it impacted. Both Quinn and Mariko jumped back to avoid the flying debris.

"Do you know how long it took me to get that thing to break free?"

Above, where the coffin had been inside its recessed cove, there was now a large crack in the wall. Through it, Evelyne stuck her head into the room.

"I've been listening to you two lovers make cooing sounds for far too long."

"Nice of you to let us know you were there," said Quinn, beginning to climb up past the other coffins to get to Evelyne. "I guess this means you've found another shortcut."

"You bet," she replied. "Got free rein of the whole place."

Jallal Tasca skulked out from an alcove, blending in with the black stone of the surrounding walls as he moved. He had followed Quinn and his two companions inside the floating black volcano when they had first arrived on horseback. None of them had seen him. None of the hideous beasts or even their master had noticed a fourth person enter the floating fortress and hide amongst them.

He had been patient, he felt, stalking through the halls of the citadel, waiting for the right moment to strike. He had seen Quinn escape the throng of black beasts. He had followed through the corridors and passages as the king's assassin executed Xeries's pets.

He had been wrong about Quinn all this time. Watching him work as he did, there was no doubt in Jallal's mind that the man known for so long as only "the Claw" was capable of terrible, terrible things.

Jallal rather admired that quality. It was too bad Quinn had to die.

Crossing the throne room, Jallal pounced on the four beasts standing guard outside Xeries's private chamber. His exotic blade bit through their flesh and bone with no more effort than a knife through water. It cleaved their obsidian claws from their limbs, took their heads from their shoulders, stole their souls with little more than a thought.

He stood in front of the private chamber, the corpses of the black beasts at his feet. He had tracked Quinn to this very room. Had seen Xeries disarm him and place him in custody behind that door. All he had to do now, to claim his prize, was to open it and walk through.

His skin tingled with anticipation. His mind raced with the tantalizing excitement that was to be his revenge. Gripping his blade tightly in one hand, Jallal Tasca released the lever, and the heavy stone door swung wide.

Charging inside, he skidded to a stop in front of a smashed coffin.

His shout rattled the skin of the desiccated corpses, all but one neatly arranged in coffins on the wall.

The room was empty. Quinn was gone.

Grabbing the lip of the first coffin with his powerful hands, Jallal began climbing up the wall to the hole near the ceiling.

He would find Quinn, and when he did, he would make the man suffer. Oh yes. The Claw would beg him for death, and Jallal would oblige.

The Matron was appalled.

Arriving at Klarsamryn, she expected to find the king dead and her assassins in control. Instead, she found them fighting by his side. Did she have to do everything herself?

The beasts from the Obsidian Ridge had also picked this moment to attack the palace. But that was no concern of hers. There would be time enough to deal with them once she controlled the throne. She would negotiate with this Xeries fellow. Every man had his price, and she was certain they could come to some sort of an arrangement that would make everyone happy.

Right now, however, she was not even close to happy.

"The goddess Waukeen is not at all pleased!" she screamed, her voice piercing the air.

The battle raged in front of her. Her assassins engaged the black beasts, none paying attention to her orders or displeasure.

Pointing her finger at the closest of her minions, she cast a spell.

"Kill the king," she commanded.

The assassin turned away from the beast he was fighting and headed deeper into the fray to do her bidding.

"Kill the king," she commanded again and again, continuing to direct the energies of her prayer.

More and more of her men followed her command, until finally she had turned the tide far enough in her favor that she no longer needed her magic to compel her assassins.

"Kill the king!" she shouted at the top of her lungs, her words bellowing over the field of battle.

The assassins responded to her orders, now aware of the Matron and her desires.

As they had once been swayed by the courageous words of their king, they were now swayed by the fear of retribution from their mistress.

"If he cannot be controlled, then he must be eliminated," said the Matron. "Korox, I will have your head on a stake before this day is out."