The Shadow Roads

Thirty-nine

The water glowed pale green, like the wake of a ship in thesummer sea. Elise began to knead the liquid with her hands, humming orchanting all the while, and the water took on substance; a pale opalescentjellyfish. The passageway, the faces of their companions, all turned a softgreen in this light. Toren felt as though he were below the water-which in asense he was; below the water in a bubble of air.

Elise plunged the blade of her sword through the glowingmass, and withdrew it, glistening green. She passed the mass to Orlem, who didthe same. The giant offered the mass to A’brgail, who, Toren noted, hesitatedonly a second before doing as Elise and Orlem had done. It seemed even A’brgailcould become accustomed to the arcane.

“It will stick to iron or steel, less well to brass. Yourhands might glow faintly for a few moments after you’ve touched it, but thatwill quickly fade. Run the blade of your sword or dagger through it quickly.”

A’brgail handed the mass to Toren, who was surprised at thecoolness of the “witch water,” as Elise called it. Very quickly they had anumber of blades aglow, casting an eerie green light over the smooth stone.

Elise pointed to the floor of the tunnel, which was wet. “Hafyddis before us,” she said. “Here is his track.”

She led them at a jog, her glowing blade held ready.

The tunnel quickly proved to be a hallway, for a distancecarved out of the island’s bedrock, then the right-hand wall became enormousblocks of tightly fitted granite. Here and there a kind of writing could beseen carved into the wall, and though Elise stopped to regard this, if shecould read it, she did not say.

The passageway descended and curved slightly to the left. Afterperhaps two hundred feet, side passages began to open up, first to the left,then to either side. Elise stopped at each and lifted her sword high,illuminating the writing over the openings.

“Do these signs mean anything?” A’brgail asked.

Elise shook her head, her tangle of wet hair spraying dropsof water into the air. “It appears to be an early form of an ancient languagethat Sianon knew. Some words I recognize, a few others I can guess at. Thispassage we are in seems to have been called the ‘east nool.’ Nool, I wouldguess, means passage or hallway. Have you ever seen such signs before, Orlem?”

“I have not, my lady.”

She glanced down at the wet floor. “It does not matter. Wefollow Hafydd’s track. Let’s hope we are not so slow that their clothingdries.” She set off again at a jog.

But in a hundred yards Hafydd’s trail disappeared at a blankstone wall.

Orlem tapped his pommel on the stone and examined the edgesby the glow of his blade. “It appears to be seamless … solid rock. Not a slabthat has been rolled into place.”

Elise nodded, her look pensive but not surprised.

“What devilry does Hafydd practice?” A’brgail asked.

“It was not Hafydd,” Elise stated evenly. “It is this place.Even the passageways change.” She touched a hand to the wall. “Orlem?

You have some of Sainth’s ability to travel the hiddenpaths, can you find your way here?”

“I cannot, my lady. Even Sainth might be confused in such aplace.”

“I fear you’re right. Let’s hope that Hafydd fares nobetter. We must make a map as we go. We might have to explore many passagesbefore we find what we seek.”

“I’ll make the map, Lady Elise,” Theason said, withsomething near to enthusiasm. He took from his jacket a small notebook wrappedmany times in heavy, oiled cotton. “Hardly wet at all,” he assured everyone. Hefound a writing implement and began drawing immediately, reminding Toren ofKai-the man they called the mapmaker.

“There was a branch not far back-let’s see where it willtake us,” Elise said.

The company retreated in their bubble of pale green light, A’brgailand Toren Renne bringing up the rear, listening for any sounds behind them.

“Have you ever seen such a place?” Toren whispered to A’brgail.

“No. Even the great ancient fortresses of the Knights weresmall and crude compared to this.”

Toren nodded. “They must have had mighty enemies to makesuch a stronghold.”

“Or mighty fears.”

The tunnel was wide enough for three to walk abreast, thoughthey went in groups of two, dripping water behind from their plunge through thepool. Elise stopped suddenly, crouching down. Toren pushed through the groupuntil he could see. The floor was wet there, a thin stream of water seeming toemerge from the wall.

“Is it our track or Hafydd’s? “Toren asked.

“Hafydd’s,” Elise said, rising. “I can’t find Orlem’s bootprint here.” She dashed on, her light footstep echoing in the ancient hall.

Hafydd stared at the floor of the tunnel as though it hadsomehow offended him. He crouched, and Beldor Renne half expected him to smashthe floor with his fist, but instead he reached out and rubbed his hand overthe water that lay there in droplets and small pools.

“We are wandering in circles,” A’denne pronounced. Unlikeeveryone else he ignored Hafydd’s dark moods and spoke whenever the urgestruck.

Hafydd appeared not to hear but rose to his feet andmotioned for his captain. “Pick two good men for rear guards. Sianon is hereand not alone.” He spun on his heel and set off down the hallway.

In fifty yards they came to a splitting of the way-three passagesgoing off at different angles. Hafydd held a torch aloft, examining thewriting. “I shall kill Kai when I find him next,” he said evenly. He waved historch. “This way.”

The passage went less than a hundred feet before it branchedin two. Sianon had apparently gone left. Hafydd hesitated only a moment, thentook the right-hand passage, which appeared to lead down. Fifty feet along,three side passages opened up, two to the right, one to the left. Hafydd tookthe second opening to the right.

The tunnel split again not far off. Hafydd stopped here forsome moments, examining the marks on the walls. He even took out his sword andbanged it once against stone, so that it rang an unholy note, echoing anddistorting off the walls. But divining did not seem to offer an answer, and aftera moment he sheathed his sword again. Beldor could see that Hafydd’s mood hadbecome more than dark. Even A’denne had the good sense to stay quiet.

The left passage was chosen this time, and it soon curvedsharply around and angled slightly down. A’denne caught Beld’s eye and raisedhis eyebrows, then shrugged. Beld thought it was as articulate as one could getabout this place, which appeared to defy reason.

An odd, distant sound reached them, echoing strangelyagainst the stone, but no one knew what it was. The passage ended in a narrowopening, and beyond was a circular stairwell that wound steeply down. Hafyddstuck his head through the opening, and with no further hesitation, starteddown, his footsteps echoing and distorting back up the well. Beldor thoughtthey sounded almost like words.

After thirty steps Beld began to feel as though he hadentered an icehouse, and his breath appeared. “Autumn outside, winter inside,”he muttered to himself. Stairs, endless and ancient, kept appearing before him,curving vertiginously round and round, and the strange sound, almost a ringing,grew louder and louder.

At the bottom of the stair they emerged into a massive domedhall, eight-sided and lavishly decorated, though the light from their smalltorches illuminated it only dimly. Beldor stopped and turned a slow circle,while Hafydd continued out into the center of the hall.

“It is a lovely bedchamber, Father,” Hafydd whispered. “ButI have come to wake you, at last.”

Alaan stood staring at the pool, which they had finallyreached after an endless hike up and down stairs and slopes drenched by rain.Dease was so tired he fell down on the mud and wet grass and hid his head inhis arms.

“Where are we now?” Crowheart wondered.

“This is the place I was seeking.” Alaan crouched, lookingat the ground. Lightning flashed off in the distance, offering its faint light.“But someone is here before us.”

“Who?” Fynnol asked.

“Orlem, certainly,” Alaan said, pointing out a massive bootprint. “And with luck that means Elise Wills as well.” He gazed at the ground amoment, awaiting the little flashes of light that came from far away. “Butthere are many footprints here. I fear Hafydd found this place before us.”

“And where have they all gone?” Fynnol asked, lookingaround.

But Alaan did not answer; he stared at the pool a moment, asthough the sight of it robbed him of speech and reason.

“Into the pool,” he whispered. “They’ve gone intothe pool.” He walked quickly around the water’s edge, examining the groundby lightning flash. “And not come out again …”

They began to find storage rooms as they reached the lowerlevel: an armory; a spirits room where casks still stood against the wall; abakery with a great hearth.

Toren lingered there a moment, as though he could almost hearthe former inhabitants. He closed his eyes and listened.

“Do you hear it?” a voice asked.

Toren opened his eyes to find Eber and Llya, halfway out thedoor, gazing at him.

“Hear what?” Toren responded.

“The whispers,” Eber said. “As though he were trying tospeak to us in the smallest breezes, the silences.”

Toren shook his head. “I hear nothing.”

“Lord Toren? Eber?” It was A’brgail calling. “We mustn’t becomeseparated from the others.”

Toren nodded and pushed quickly past Eber and his son, feelingthe child’s large, knowing eyes on his back.

The vastness of the maze began to make itself clear as theywalked, miles passing beneath their feet, though they arrived nowhere.

“Do you think we’re still on the island?” Toren wonderedaloud, as they stopped to consider another side passage.

“I think we are, Lord Toren,” Elise answered. “Though it isonly a feeling-an intuition.” None of the urgency had gone out of Elise’s step.Though Toren knew that facing Hafydd frightened her, the fear didn’t seem todim her determination.

They made their way down this new passage, descending at ashallow angle. After a short while a soft metallic tinkling reached them. Itechoed and distorted up the tunnel, never growing louder though occasionallyfading almost completely, only to return as they progressed.

Passages opened up sporadically, and at each Elise wouldlisten carefully, then choose the tunnel from which the sound seemed toemanate.

“What could that be?” Orlem asked, as they stopped to listenat another opening.

“Water running, I hope,” said Elise.

“But it sounds like small bells ringing,” the giant said.

“I pray you’re wrong, Orlem,” Elise said. “We can’t drinkbells, and our waterskins are rapidly emptying.”

The giant glanced down at the waterskin that hung from a strapover his shoulder, it sloshed when he walked, less than a quarter full.

“Do you know what I find odd?” Eber said softly. Llya hadfallen asleep riding on Baore’s back, his head bouncing on the Vale-man’sshoulder. Eber himself looked ready to fall asleep.

“What, Eber?”

“Though we have traveled all about, we have never found ourway back to the pool where we entered the tunnels.”

Elise nodded, her look thoughtful. “The maze has not donewith us yet.”

“Or people who find their way in here never leave …” A’brgailsaid prophetically. He met no one’s eye after offering this bit of speculation.

“I doubt anyone has been here before us, Sir Gilbert,” Elisesaid. “The place is too well hidden.”

“Unless someone who had not the skill to stay afloat fellinto the pool …” Eber suggested.

“Hurry on,” Elise said. “No amount of speculation willchange the task we have come here to perform. Hafydd has to be stopped whetherwe are to find our way out or not.” Her eye fixed on Llya, asleep on Baore’sshoulder, his face the epitome of innocence. She reached out as though shewould touch his cheek, but then stopped, sadness and regret overwhelming herlook of resolution. Quickly, she turned away and set off down the passage, themetallic tinkling echoing softly around them.

At length the passage ended at a narrow opening, ornatelydecorated with signs and symbols they had not seen before. Elise held her bladealoft for a moment, examining them, but then shook her head and thrust theblade into the opening, leaning in to see what lay beyond.

“It’s a stair,” she announced, “circling down. A cold stair.”

Elise pushed through, and Toren could hear her steps echoingagainst the unforgiving stone. Slighthand followed, forcing his large framethrough the narrow opening. The rest went in turn, one man at a time. WhenToren’s turn came he found himself in what looked like a well, perfectly roundand vertical, but with a winding stone stair circling down. Unlike the othertunnels, this well was as cold as an icehouse, and he quickly learned not totouch the frigid walls for balance. His own blade lit the way for him, and hefollowed the retreating back of Gilbert A’brgail, round and round. It wasimpossible to guess how far they descended-a very great distance, Torenthought, and he was sure it grew colder with each step.

Baore stopped momentarily to drape his massive cloak overLlya, who stood blinking and rubbing his eyes, the cloak flowing onto the flooraround.

“Winter appears to await below.” Toren helped Baore arrangethe cloak over the child. “Damn, it is cold!”

Baore scooped the child up again. “I’m from the north,” theValeman said. “Cold is afraid of me.”

They went more quickly then, round and round, trying to staywarm with movement. Toren caught sight of Elise’s retreating back, tangledyellow hair bobbing. She went swiftly, as though their long march and time onthe river had not tired her at all. The others straggled behind, Eber supportedby Theason.

“There is light below,” someone called up the well, and thecolumn slowed its descent, suddenly wary. Toren saw the glowing swords belowrise up, ready to do battle, faces appeared in the cool light, drawn and pale.

A few more steps, and they stopped entirely. Someone waved ahand at them. “Lord Toren. Sir Gilbert. Please, come down.”

The others pressed against the ice-cold walls to let thempass.

Elise waited below. Above the murmur of what was clearlyrunning water, a voice droned though Toren could not make out the words. Eliselooked up at them, her face a ruin of anguish.

“Hafydd makes the soul eater,” she said, her voice colderthan the air. “We must sacrifice everything to stop him … if we’re notalready too late.”