Read Glyphpunk Page 27


  Chapter 26

  Augni flickered in and out of consciousness, with a muted panic at his vulnerability. He had flashes of other prisoners carting their bodies back to their cells. Time passed as he drifted in and out, his mobility gradually returning. Obviously a higher setting than had been used for the demonstration, as it was the next night before he could stand unaided, and walking took concentration.

  They managed to get food before they had to return to work, amid glares from Snaenjar and his thugs seated at a distant table. The guards kept watch over the combatants, ensuring they didn't get close. The alertness continued as they were escorted to work, and the guards sent them down different shafts.

  That was the limit of their attention, and sneaking away proved no more difficult than the day before.

  The doors stood untouched since their last visit, and Thjorn stopped only long enough to scratch a quick light glyph on a loose stone before trying the door. Augni added his weight before it moved, accompanied by a dull screech.

  They stopped. It didn’t draw immediate attention, but may be investigated. They opened it just enough to allow access.

  A dusty, foetid, aroma greeted them, and they saw little beyond the range of the glyph’s light. What they did see wasn't promising: the corridor ahead was supported by wooden beams – wood whose stability Augni didn't trust.

  The corridor couldn’t have seen light in a century, and Augni felt the weight of all the rock above them more than he had since they'd arrived: an oppressive pall which made him hunch despite having a hand's width above him.

  Thjorn seemed indifferent to the instability. He strolled on, stopping every so often to draw a light glyph on the wall.

  Augni couldn't offer much help, his skill with glyphs non-existent. Thjorn had banned him from even copying after he'd started doing one with a horizontal gap rather than a vertical one, which was apparently the correct way of doing it.

  At its end – around a hundred paces along – the passage revealed a shaft straight down. A ten foot circular hole, and every slight movement echoed down it.

  Drawing a light glyph on the nearest wall, Thjorn dropped the stone down the shaft. It fell a few seconds before hitting, the light blinking out as the stone shattered. It was deep, and the shaft appeared perfectly circular all the way down.

  'I assume what we need is down there,' said Augni.

  'It is.'

  'And you intend going down?'

  'I do.'

  'How?'

  'Rope would seem the easiest method,' said Thjorn.

  'Assuming we can get some.'

  'They have some in the supplies room.'

  'That depth would take more than we can carry in one load,' said Augni.

  'So we do a couple of loads.' Thjorn lay on the edge and reached down to scratch a glyph. 'I doubt we need to go all the way down, anyhow. There's probably a shaft coming off just over half way, from what I gather.'

  'On which side?'

  'Good point,' said Thjorn. 'I assumed the near side, but not necessarily.'

  'What do you want down there? What is the place?'

  'Wotyn's tomb. It has some glyphs I need.'

  Despite his vague knowledge of the subject, Augni didn’t feel this was a good thing. 'You think they'd have let him keep his books?'

  'Unlikely. But his knowledge was in his head. That they couldn't keep from him.'

  'They didn’t take that, though?'

  Thjorn glanced back with the exasperated look he often had. 'How much do you know of his history?'

  'I remember learning some when I was small,' Augni admitted. At the least this should get Thjorn talking – at him, if not to him.

  'Probably the Society version,' said Thjorn, dismissively. 'Too idolizing of the bastard, mainly from guilt. They gloss over that Wotyn was a raider and pirate before becoming enlightened. After his family were murdered by raiders while he was out raiding, he led his men on a rampage for vengeance that left a bloody smear across Elinar, including all his men. It didn't sate his rage, and he cursed the First Ones for taking the wisdom of the world with them when they left.

  'He ended up wandering the Whispering Forest, spent moons searching for a Heart Tree, with only the voices of the Forest's ghosts for company. Finding a Heart Tree, he sipped of the waters pooling under it. He emerged from the Forest raving, his mind opened too far. So of course the locals decided he was cursed, harried him back into the Forest as far as they'd dare go, ran him through with a spear that pinned him to a tree, and left him to die.

  'He didn't. Ten days he hung there, later claiming the ghosts of the First Ones whispered their secrets all the while. Whether true, or whether it was the waters that did it, he learned many new glyphs. Enough to heal his wounds.

  'He brought the secrets to mankind, and helped establish civilization. He was still a bastard, civilization just offered an easier way to control everyone. He remained in power for over a century before the rulers banded together to overthrow him. Attempts to kill him failed – even those which seemed to succeed – forcing them to try something else. They captured him, built a tomb deep underground – girded with glyphs to limit his powers – and stuck him inside. Sealing the entrance, they left him there.

  'For a few centuries, until they started mining the area. The Society was in power by then, and wondered if anything interesting had been buried with him. Imbeciles. Excavating it, they found his bones, and reported glyphs hacked into the walls, floor, everywhere. Then the accidents started. Within a year everyone who'd set foot in there was dead. They stopped going in.'

  'But you are,' said Augni. 'Going after the glyphs he...'

  'No. Do you think I’m an idiot?'

  Augni withheld comment.

  As the light glyph he'd inscribed on the shaft wall gained radiance, Thjorn stood. 'I want to look at the glyphs used to seal him in. The ones which cut him off from his true power source.'

  Further questions fled at sounds behind them. They turned to see Snaenjar and his flunkies come through the door. There was no escape, and they were too close to the chasm to hold their ground. Without a word, they advanced to meet the thieves. Augni grabbed a collapsed support as a makeshift weapon. Almost disintegrating in his hands, it was better than nothing.

  Thjorn moved ahead of Augni as they reached a reasonably narrow patch of corridor, where they should be able to fight defensively side-by-side. Not that fighting defensively would gain them much. They'd end up pushed back to the edge. Presumably Thjorn had a plan.

  They waited as the thugs advanced, tools at the ready.

  Disinclined to bandy words, Snaenjar let the largest of his men lead with a sledgehammer. Charging the last few steps, the narrow confines forced his swing into an awkward thrust.

  Thjorn didn't flinch as the weapon swooped in. It exploded on contact, the handle splintering up the middle, hurling the thug back. The shock halted their advance more than the collision, and they glared with open concern.

  'Why did you assume I was bluffing?' Thjorn asked in irritation.

  'They searched you,' said Snaenjar.

  'So?' said Thjorn. 'Do you think I'd come here without taking precautions?'

  Snaenjar was conflicted. The other prisoners knew where he was. If he failed again his reputation would be done. He'd have nothing. He could end up with less if he died here, but his eyes showed he considered those reasonable odds.

  He led with a wild swing. Thjorn stepped back from the shovel’s path. He grabbed it in passing, and slammed it into the wall, pushing Snaenjar with it. Had he avoided the hit because it had only been a limited use protective glyph? Or because he wanted them to think that? Or one of a number of other reasons Augni wouldn't think of? Not that he could ask.

  Augni charged past, towards the other thugs. He'd try and hold them off for Thjorn to deal with Snaenjar. The stunned one still caused a blockage, so Augni targeted the next in line, still untangling his spade. He'd get it up in time to block, which Augni allowed for
.

  Swinging the rotten wood as hard as he could he aimed where the shovel would be. They collided, and the wood splintered, showering the unsuspecting thugs. Augni used the shock to grab the shovel. Pulling the top forced the other end up into the thug's knee. His grip on the tool loosened. Augni reversed the thrust, slamming it into his head and sending him stumbling back, disarmed.

  The other two lunged, uncoordinated, and he batted them aside. One tried getting past to aid Snaenjar, but Augni managed a quick thrust at his head, striking hard enough to discourage. He settled into a defensive pattern, holding them back.

  He managed a minute before his arms started to feel the effect, and their fighting grew more coordinated. The stunned had recovered their senses, not that they had room to act together. Their attacks did grow more strategic, and the one with the pick tried to pin Augni's shovel to the wall. His focus on avoiding it meant he didn't notice the thug with the shovel do the same until too late.

  The momentum of the sweep meant he had little chance of keeping his shovel free without taking a blow himself. He let it go. The thug smashed it into the wall, breaking the handle, while Augni slammed his elbow into the thug's face. Grabbing him by the hair and slamming his head into the wall, Augni grabbed for the discarded weapon.

  A blow caught him in the side before he reached it. He retreated defensively, checking the hit hadn't drawn blood. It was painful, and might hamper his movements, but shouldn't kill him.

  The next attacks arrived too close together to avoid. Fortunately he'd had experience in close-quarter combat while rousting drunks from bars in Idstil. This lot fought as though they had plenty of space when they should adapt. Short blades were dangerous in close quarters, but they didn't have any. His safest place was in the middle, where they were as likely to hit each other.

  He charged, outside the rightmost thug. Dodging his broken pick handle, Augni elbowed him in the neck, moved past, and head butted the next before he could react. The man was unarmed, so he couldn't disarm him. He settled for using the dazed thug to slam the one opposite into the wall.

  Gut-punching the dazed thug as he backed away, Augni's attention shifted to the others. One turned, his weapon coming to bear, while the other charged at Thjorn and Snaenjar.

  Thjorn was so used to fighting with glyphs that Augni wasn’t sure how he’d do without. Despite natural aptitude, he was at a disadvantage against an experienced street fighter. Not that Snaenjar necessarily had much experience. Against two of them, though, Thjorn wouldn't last long. So Augni couldn't ignore it.

  Dodging a clumsy thrust from one thug, he shoved the weapon at the other two, pushing them back against the wall. Charging the one ahead, he caught him off-balance and pushed him ahead as a weapon. While he hit the remaining thug before he could reach Thjorn, the stumbling human shield he used sent them off-course, and they crashed into a support.

  The wooden support snapped with a dry crack that thundered through them. The ceiling creaked. The fighting stopped, apart from Snaenjar and Thjorn who continued oblivious to the threat. The thug who'd hit the support groaned on the floor, and Augni took the opportunity to punch the nearest thug square in the face, dropping him.

  He punched Snaenjar next, loosening his grip on Thjorn enough to pull him free. Augni dragged him away, preparing to charge the thugs still ahead of them. Their faces showed that was unnecessary, as their attention focussed on the broken support.

  Rubble started to fall behind them but Augni didn't look back, especially when the thugs ahead turned and ran. A roar crashed over them before they'd gone a few steps, and panic flooded him as he was pulled back. Turning he found it was only Snaenjar. The collapsing corridor was still a meter behind them, and catching up.

  They punched Snaenjar in unison, knocking him back a step, and fled. A glance back saw Snaenjar coming after them a moment too late. The mountain collapsed on him.

  Flight overtook Augni’s thoughts. They reached the door ahead of the collapse, and were through the half-open gap without breaking stride.

  The roar of the collapse hit the door with a clang, before dying out. They didn’t slow until it had died away, dropping to a jog as they saw it had stopped not far beyond the door.

  They stopped, and Thjorn put his hand to the wall to feel for vibrations. He relaxed.

  Augni tensed as another roar crashed over them, but it was only the horn calling the alert to evacuate. They should be able to hide their separation from the work crew in the confusion. The guards would be too interested in getting out themselves to pay attention to the prisoners. As long as they were there for the roll call on the surface, they shouldn't have trouble.

  Thjorn started for the surface, not waiting for Augni.

  'You still have glyphs?' asked Augni.

  'Yes,' said Thjorn, cold and distant.

  'Where?'

  Thjorn held up his right hand. There was some burning on his wrist. 'Merid used a translucent substance to inscribe. That was a single use one, for emergencies.'

  'I'd say that qualified.' Now he looked at the wrist, Augni could just make out the ghost of other tattooed glyphs. Maybe two of them.

  Thjorn said nothing. His silence held anger enough.

  'At least we're alive,' said Augni. He was certain that should get a reaction.

  'We failed,' snarled Thjorn, giving rare vent to his anger. 'Wasted our time here.'

  'Isn't there another way down t...?'

  'Nothing that’s achievable in a reasonable time frame. I doubt they'd be willing to excavate it for us. No, all we can do is leave. And that's not as easy as it should be, with you here.' His pace increased, putting distance between them, and Augni let him go.