He tried not to panic.
He looked to the opening and took a few steps back, trying to find the best position for the difficult jump. When it felt right, he lunged into motion, jumping as high as he could. When he reached the wall, his fingers slapped against the stone several inches below the hole. The rest of his body crashed into the wall before he slid down to the floor.
The hilt of the sword around his waist clanged loudly on the stone floor and he winced at the sharp noise.
The approaching footsteps were getting louder, and now he could hear voices as well.
He didn’t have much time and needed to make a decision. He could either keep the sword—his only means of protection—and fight his way out, or he would have to get rid of it in order to reach the opening, which might not even be an escape. If he decided to fight, he might do well for a while, but there was no way one man could survive against many trained soldiers.
His fingers quickly went to his belt and began to unfasten it. He took off the sword and scabbard and threw them to his right, as far down the hallway as he could. The belt landed on the stone floor with a clang and skidded to a stop. The sound of approaching footsteps quickened to a running pace and Adair judged the group to be five or more people. Hopefully the belt would lead them away, unless they were coming from that direction, in which case it would only serve to give away the fact that he was in the general vicinity.
Again Adair took a running start and jumped. This time his fingertips grasped the ledge of the opening and hung for a second, but he lost his grip and slid down the wall.
He backed up again and could see the lengthened shadows of running men along the wall, cast by the torches they were carrying.
This is my last chance!
He only had enough time for one more jump and then the soldiers would have him. He sprinted forward, stepping into a crouch, and sprang off of his left leg, extending it as far as possible while reaching up the wall with his right hand. The ledge came into reach and he grabbed as hard as he could. His fingertips tried to dig into the stone, but his grip was fragile. Adair quickly swung his left hand up to the ledge and was able to get a solid grip with both hands, pulling his upper body over the ledge and into the opening. The round hole was just wide enough for his shoulders to pass through. He could see that it continued straight for about twenty feet, where a soft light spilled in. Adair didn’t know what was on the other side, but at this point he didn’t care. The cramped space wouldn’t allow for him to swing a leg up, so he reached farther into the hole to find another grip. There was nothing but smooth stone. Adair tried desperately to pull his lower body into the passage, but his sweating palms couldn’t find traction.
“There he is,” yelled someone from the hallway below.
Adair couldn’t hold back the panic. He was defenseless, with his lower body completely exposed. He wriggled from side to side while boosting his upper body on his elbows and began to gain the leverage he needed. But it was all happening too slowly. With one more pull he managed to get his legs into the passage. At the same moment he felt something slam into his right foot, followed immediately by the sound of metal glancing off the stone. By reflex he jerked his foot into the tunnel, but it was too late. A searing pain spread through his foot and leg. He knew he was injured, but he kept crawling, trying to get free of his pursuers.
He reached out with one hand against the stone beneath him and pulled, while simultaneously pushing forward with his knees. He felt like a worm trapped inside a piece of fruit that was about to be consumed. As he approached the end of the tunnel, his surroundings became brighter and the air clearer. His head exited the passage into open air. Craning his neck to look above him, he could see stars shining brightly in the night sky overhead.
Turning to look down, he saw what looked like an enormous well. It was at least seventy-five feet across and had a spiraling staircase carved into the stone along the inside. He looked across and saw other ventilation shafts just like his own, built into the stone at regular intervals, eight feet above the stairs. Looking down to the stairs below, he knew that it would be a painful jump from this height, but an instant death if he overshot the stairs and slipped into the darkness below. The staircase had no railing, only steps that dropped off the edge into nothingness. His options were limited, and he was in danger of death regardless of whether he went forward or backward.
Gripping the ledge of the opening, he eased his upper body out of the passage until he could turn and slip out one leg at a time. His hands were shaking from the effort by the time he was out of the passage, hanging from the ledge with legs dangling over the stairs. As gravity pulled at his body, his hands began to lose their grip, compromised by the slick coating of blood left behind from his injured foot. A feeling of panic surged within him as he realized the peril of his situation.
In a last-second attempt to keep himself from falling over the side of the stairs, Adair pushed his feet out a few inches away from the wall and let go, leaning in toward the face of the stone as he fell. His feet hit the ground, sending a wave of pain from his right foot up into his leg. His position caused him to fall forward into the sheer face of the stone and roll down a few stairs before coming to a halt. His foot was throbbing intensely, but he tried to put it out of his mind until he was safe.
Even though the moon was not visible, its light illuminated the opposite side of the well. Adair stood in the shadowed half and looked up to the rim that was almost two hundred feet above. Knowing that the soldiers would inform everyone else of his whereabouts, it was only a matter of time before they closed in on him. He needed to get to the top of this chasm and out of sight as quickly as possible. He began to painfully limp up the spiraling stairs, hurrying almost to a run when he came to the illuminated side of the well.
It seemed like an eternity before he reached the top. Fortunately, the stairs ended in the shadows. Adair crouched down to keep his head from being visible above the rim while crawling up the last few steps. He waited for a brief moment to listen for any movement nearby. When he was satisfied that it was safe, he peeked over the rim. What he saw amazed him.
He was perched atop a small island of stone that gently sloped fifty feet down to the ocean surface.* Docks sprouted from the island like spokes from a wheel. Several hundred feet away from the shore of the island was the inside of the wall that encircled this secluded place.* The inside of the wall was made up of hundreds of covered ports. Some were empty and some contained ships. It was too dark to tell for sure, but Adair realized in an instant that if even half of the ports were filled, this place contained a fleet that would rival the Empire.
One area of the waterway between the wall and the island was teeming with ferries, offloading crates of goods from a ship and transporting them to the island. Adair looked back down the stairs and realized that all this time spent running down hallways and hiding from his captors, he had been beneath the ocean. Even as the realization came to him, he denied the possibility of it. Who could make such a place?
“Stop right there!”
Adair spun around to see two men standing on the opposite rim of the chasm. They both held torches and immediately separated, running around opposite sides. Adair stood and ran up the last few steps, not wanting to get trapped inside the chasm. The stairs ended at a pathway that circled the rim. Other narrow footpaths radiated out from there to end at stairways heading down the outside of the hill. He took only a few steps before seeing another pair of men coming up the nearest set of stairs at a full run. Adair paused for a brief moment, unsure of whether he should fight past these men to escape or run back down the stairs where immediate safety was available. He instinctively chose the latter and rushed back down the stairs into the well.
What have I done? Even through the unbearable pain shooting up his leg, Adair knew that he had made the wrong decision. There was nowhere for him to go now but down. He might be able to keep ahead of them, but what would that gain him? They had him trapped now, a
nd he was finally starting to feel afraid of not making it out alive.
He ran down the winding staircase as fast as his injured foot would allow him, keeping to the inside of the treacherous steps. Suddenly, a torch landed on the stairs in front of him, sending a shower of sparks into the air before falling over the edge and disappearing into the darkness. Adair didn’t even pause to see how close they were or who had thrown the torch. His instinct for survival drove him downward.
The light of the moon gradually disappeared altogether, and Adair ran in complete darkness, dragging his hand along the rock face to maintain a sense of proximity to the edge. After what seemed like an hour, Adair noticed a dull orange glow coming from the center of the darkness below. It was just enough light to illuminate his surroundings. His breathing was ragged and his right leg was nearly useless. He slowed his pace and looked up behind him. Far away he could see the bouncing torches of his pursuers. They must have slowed down long ago, realizing that his capture was inevitable.
Adair pressed on, and within minutes he reached the bottom of the staircase. It ended at a tunnel that led away into the side of the rock face. The tunnel was completely dark, and Adair had to move by feel once again. After a slow hundred yards, the passage began to slope downward and veer to the right. The slope gradually steepened until Adair almost tripped down another set of stairs. It was a strange sensation to be underneath the ocean, and he marveled at how much work must have gone into building this place, aside from the fact that it seemed physically impossible.
Slowly, the tunnel began to lighten with the same orange glow. His pace quickened in the soft light, as he no longer needed to feel his way through the passage. After several more minutes of descending the curving steps, the tunnel opened up into an enormous cavern hundreds of yards wide and equally as tall. Torches burned along the wall, casting an eerie light throughout what looked like a gigantic temple to some unknown god.
Or gods, Adair thought, as he noticed great stone statues, at least a hundred feet tall, lining the perimeter of the cavern. Each one was shaped almost like a man, but their features were stretched vertically, with great wings that extended to either side of the statue. The tips of the wings touched the tips of the next statue, so that the whole cavern was encircled by them. Adair continued out of the mouth of the tunnel and ran down the remaining steps, which were carved into the wall of the cavern like the chasm above him. When he reached the floor, his feet dug into soft, pure sand like the shores of Bastul.
He looked down to take in this unexpected sight and noticed the bloody mess of his right foot. The severed sole of his sandal dragged uselessly across the sand, held to his leg by a thin strip of twisted leather. His foot had gone numb. Hopefully, the injury wasn’t as serious as it looked. Across the cavern was a lake whose water was still and smooth as glass. At the center of the lake was a stone dais, thirty feet across and only inches above the level of the water. Narrow footbridges of stone extended from the dais on opposite sides, arching over the water and ending at the sandy perimeter of the lake.
On the other side of the cavern was a large arched doorway. It appeared to be the only other way out of this place. A quick look around revealed that it would be quicker to head straight over the footbridge and dais than it would be to skirt the lake. Once his goal was set, Adair quickened his pace to a run.
The sand hindered his progress and sapped his already depleted energy. By the time he made it to the start of the footbridge, his pursuers spilled out of the tunnel behind him and onto the staircase. Adair ran with all his might up the narrow bridge, trying to keep his footing on the polished stone. His lead had lessened considerably and he feared that he would lose this race. His only hope now was to make it through the archway at the other side of the cavern and hopefully find a narrow corridor where he could defend himself against one man at a time. Even then, they would eventually wear him down.
Slowing little by little with every painful step, he looked across the cavern at the archway and tried to fix his will on getting through it. Just as he took his first step on the dais, the dark hole of the archway began to change. There was movement inside it, and Adair suspected that he had failed. When row upon row of soldiers filed out of the archway, Adair felt all hope drain from his body, like wind taken from the sails of a boat.
He stopped running and lost his footing on the slick surface. His left foot shot out from underneath him and he landed painfully on his elbow before sliding to a stop. Knowing that the chase was over, he lay back on the stone and stared up at the ceiling.
It only made the situation worse when he saw stars overhead. The ceiling above him had a huge hole right through the middle of it. It took a second before he saw the spiraling stairs and recognized it as the chasm with which he was already acquainted. He could see freedom right above him, but there was no way to reach it. He lifted his head to get a view of his odds at the last moments of his life. Altogether, there were about fifty archers and foot soldiers surrounding the lake.
It was over.
Adair looked around and realized he was sitting roughly in the center of the stone dais. Its surface was polished like marble, and seemed to glow with a silver light. Just beneath the surface was a strange pattern of concentric circles, like the rings of a tree that had been frozen and then shattered. He ran his hand over the smooth surface and marveled at its translucency. Even more strange was that it was perfectly clean. Adair rubbed his finger against his thumb.
Not even a speck of dust. It’s beautiful.
It looked like an altar.
I guess it’s a fitting place to die.
He struggled to his feet as the soldiers advanced up the bridges on either side of him. They were within shooting range now and it was only a matter of seconds before he would see death. His thoughts turned to his family. Maeryn, with her beautiful blonde hair and gorgeous smile. Kael, with that inquisitive look in his eyes. Tears began to stream down his face as he realized that he would never see them again in this life.
What have I done?
He looked back to the soldiers marching toward him and noticed that they appeared wavy and distorted, as if he were seeing them through poorly crafted glass. He rubbed the tears from his eyes and looked again, but nothing had changed. Adair looked down at his feet and saw his own reflection on the dais spiraling inward. He suddenly felt very heavy, as if he had consumed too much wine. He looked up again at the soldiers and noted that they were retreating with looks of astonishment on their faces. Their images continued to distort and pull inward toward Adair as he felt the weight of the world pressing in on him. Suddenly, a burst of blue light flashed in his eyes, sending a jolt of pain through his head. It was the last thing he saw before he lost consciousness.
CHAPTER 7
Maeryn plucked the withered leaves from a flowering plant, trying her best to stay busy and keep her mind distracted. But it didn’t seem to be helping much. Her stomach was still tied in knots. And she hadn’t been able to eat anything all day. It was now the second day since Adair had disappeared, and what she had thought was just another routine absence was beginning to feel like something more ominous.
Years ago, Adair had the garden built as a gift to Maeryn, following the customs of her ancestors. Trimmed trees and shrubs dotted the landscape, separated by rings of brightly colored flowers. The north end of this secluded paradise was open to the hilltop courtyard, containing stables, soldiers’ housing, and various other structures, all surrounded by a pale stone wall.
As the orange rays of the setting sun made their way into the silent garden, the peace was suddenly disturbed by a commotion from the courtyard. Maeryn rose from her seat on a low stone wall just as a group of soldiers ran past the gate to the courtyard. The startling sight was followed quickly by another figure standing at the base of the steps outside the gate.
“Thaddius?” Maeryn called out.
The commissioner turned suddenly. “Governess,” he replied. The usual kindness was gone from h
is eyes, and he looked almost panicked.
“Thaddius, what’s happening?”
The Commissioner came quickly up the steps and into the garden. “Do you know where Adair has gone?”
Maeryn’s heart suddenly pounded violently inside her chest. “No. He never tells me what he’s doing. I thought you would—”
“No,” Thaddius answered quickly, glancing around the garden. “He left word for me yesterday morning that he would gone for the day, but I haven’t heard from him since.”
Maeryn suddenly felt dizzy and had to sit back down to keep from falling over.
“Commissioner!” someone called from the courtyard.
Thaddius turned and walked a few steps away while Maeryn shielded her eyes from the sunlight and tried to breath steadily. The words of the soldier nearby seemed to drift to her ears as if from long distance.
“The records at the docks indicate he took one of our smallest vessels and sailed yesterday morning. He had a minimal crew and only enough provisions for the day.”
Maeryn looked up suddenly.
Thaddius was staring at the ground with a hand on his bearded chin.
“Where did he go?” she called across the garden.
“Nucotu?” the soldier asked Thaddius in a hushed tone.
The commissioner nodded. “It’s a two day journey. I can’t think of anywhere else.”
“Where did he go?” Maeryn repeated, louder this time. Her anger at being left out of the conversation was beginning to show.
Thaddius turned slowly toward Maeryn, though his eyes were still fixed on the ground. “Send a vessel to Nucotu,” he said finally. Then he looked up at the soldier. “Make sure they take horses and supplies. If the governor is not found, they’ll need to continue north and send a messenger to Leoran to notify the council.”