Oracle (Book 5) (19 page)

Joseph pushed the diplomat towards the gate. “Just
move
. We’re running out of time.”

“A ladder of green,” Kara sang. “A swan in ice. Horses, horses in the night.”

Joseph stopped as if he had been struck. He swung around, then felt all the blood drain from his face.

Even in the dark, he could see the large shape in the middle of the garden. How he had missed it before he didn’t rightfully know, but he had been looking for a way out, not noticing all the details around them.

It was a large stone fountain. The top was shaped like a large swan, its neck craned back. At one time water undoubtedly poured from its beak, but now it was silent and still, the basin around it filled with sludge and ice. Frost and ice glistened up the swan’s sides.

For a moment Joseph couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. He just stared like an imbecile, his mind blank and his body paralyzed.

“Follow the stones,” Kara whispered. Her voice was like that of a ghost in the darkness of the garden. “The stones of white.”

Joseph turned his head.

On the opposite side of the garden was a small trail of white gravel. It led out between two of the hedges, then downhill.

Joseph looked back at Kara, his mouth agape.

The red-headed girl still stared straight ahead, her eyes unseeing and yet seeing more than Joseph could.

A squeal of hinges filled the quiet of the garden.

The noise made Joseph start. He lurched back around.

Maklavir.

The diplomat was already disappearing through the iron gate.

Joseph leaped after him, forgetting Kara for a moment. “Maklavir!” he called out. “Wait, stop!”

He vaulted over the small gate. Rust from the old metal smeared onto his hands.

On the  other side of the gate was a broad path that led away from the Sanitarium, joining up with the main drive.

Maklavir turned around in a huff. The feather in his cap was flattened from the falling rain. “Great Eru in Pelos, what is it
now
? I was only doing what you—”

The sharp cry of a horse cut through the night air.

Joseph and Maklavir both turned to look down the wide lane.

Four mounted gendarmes, tall bear-caps on their heads and sharp sabers in their hands, galloped down the path.

Directly at Joseph and Maklavir.

Chapter 11

Kendril pulled out his flintlock pistol. He cocked back the hammer with the edge of his palm.

Tomas reached over and grabbed Kendril’s gun arm. He made a hushing motion with his hand and pulled Kendril further down behind the slimy rocks.

“What’s wrong with you?” Kendril whispered. “You said—”

“Shhh,” Tomas said angrily. He motioned with hands towards the darkened entrance to the sea cave. “Wait and watch.”

Two men emerged from the cave. They moved out cautiously, looking around in confusion. They looked exactly like the Jombard sentries that Kendril and Tomas had just encountered. One held a spear with both hands, the other a crude longsword.

Tomas grabbed the body of the Jombard that Kendril had killed, and slowly dragged it behind the tumbled rocks. He turned to Kendril, and put a finger over his lips, then motioned towards the two new Jombards.

Kendril gave an exasperated sigh, then reluctantly put his pistol back into its holster.

Tomas crept around the edge of one of the large boulders, then moved out of sight.

One of the Jombards called out in the harsh tongue of his people. He looked warily around him, then turned to his companion and said something else.

Kendril ducked low behind one of the rocks. He drew the dagger again.

Just the two. Tomas had been right not jump into action, at least not yet. These Jombards had probably heard the noise of Kendril’s fight and had come to investigate.

Rain plinked softly against Kendril’s upraised hood. He pressed himself uncomfortably close to one of the barnacle-encrusted boulders, his nose wrinkling at the strong smell of seaweed.

He only hoped that Tomas knew what he was doing.

One of the Jombards, the one with the longsword, gestured towards the boulders that Kendril was crouched behind. He said something else in his own language, then started walking straight towards Kendril.

Kendril fought down the urge to pull out a pistol and just shoot the man. He couldn’t risk Bronwyn getting away. Not again.

The Jombard came closer. He jumped up onto one of the rocks just above where Kendril was hiding.

Kendril held his breath.

The second Jombard made a sudden gurgling noise and lurched back.

The Jombard on the rocks whirled. He raised his longsword.

Kendril didn’t give him a chance. He jumped up and grabbed the Jombard’s legs.

The Jombard tumbled forward as his legs were swept out from under him. He gave a half cry as he pitched down.

Kendril gave the man a helping hand. He slammed his head down hard on the jutting rocks.

Without another sound, the Jombard rolled off onto the sand.

Kendril vaulted over the rock.

Tomas wiped his blade clean on his cloak, then stepped over the fallen form of the second Jombard.

Kendril gave a shake of his head. “These have to be the worst sentries ever.”

“Lucky for us.” Tomas kept one wary eye on the gaping entrance to the cave. “There are others inside.”

“Remember,” Kendril warned, “it’s Bronwyn that we’re after. We need her alive.”

Tomas glanced down at the body at his feet. “You don’t think the Jombards know anything useful?”

Kendril grimaced. “Even if they do, can you understand anything they’re saying?”

Tomas gave a surrendering shrug. “All right, point taken.” He flicked the rainwater off his knife. “The cave starts narrow, but gets bigger towards the back. I’ll go first. Stay behind me and stay quiet.”

Kendril gave a lopsided grin. It was hidden by the shadow his hood cast over his face. “Hey, I made it this far just fine, didn’t I?”

Tomas gave him a skeptical look. “Let’s just say that I can see why you’re Sword division and not Shadow.”

“Enough talking,” Kendril grunted. “Lead the way.”

Tomas hesitated.

“I’ll be quiet,” Kendril assured him. “I promise.”

“Right,” Tomas mumbled. He turned, then skulked forward into the dark recess of the cave.

Kendril moved after him, dagger still in hand.

Tomas was right. The entrance to the cave was narrow, like the opening to a bottle. The walls were tight on either side, making it just big enough to squeeze a horse or mule through. There was a sharp bend, and the passage continued a short way into the rock.

Surprisingly, the cave was better lit than the beach outside. A faint golden glow flickered down the narrow tunnel, coming from some unseen light source farther ahead.

“You got through this without being seen?” Kendril whispered. “I’m impressed.”

Tomas violently motioned for Kendril to keep quiet, then crept onwards.

Kendril stifled a nasty response, and tightened his hand on the dagger. He was ready to be done with all this cloak and dagger business, even if it meant fighting down a dozen Jombards at once. Still, he needed Bronwyn alive, and he had no doubt that the witch would flee at the slightest sign of trouble. For now, this was the best way to ensure her capture.

Just ahead, the cave opened up.

Kendril caught his breath. It was big. Bigger than he had thought at first, or had even imagined it to be.

The cave floor was wide and large, still damp from the last high tide. There must have been at least an acre or two of space, stretching all the way back to a tumbled pile of flat stones at the rear of the chamber that led up to the far wall. The ceiling stretched above them at a dizzy height, almost one hundred feet from the floor. The rocks and floor were covered with the white stains of birds, and festered with barnacles and dried shells.

From one corner came the sound of laughter and the foreign voices of Jombards talking. A bright yellow glow emanated from there, and Kendril caught glimpses of a large fire. The sounds echoed eerily off the chamber walls, reverberating around in the cavern. He could see why Tomas had urged quiet. Even the slightest noise was magnified in here.

Tomas turned, and gestured with his hand, off towards the opposite corner of the cave.

Kendril nodded, and followed the man.

As they moved across the dark floor of the sea cave, Kendril glimpsed several other tunnels and side-passages at the back of the cavern. He had no doubt that at least one or two might well lead to the top of the cliffs above. He had heard tales as a boy about how caves like this were used by smugglers, pirates, and even slavers from the Spice Lands.

That meant that the exit back to the beach might not be the only way out of the cave.

Tomas ducked down behind a low rock smeared with bird droppings. He waved Kendril over.

Kendril moved down next to him.

Tomas pointed ahead towards a slight bend in the wall of the sea cave.

Kendril peered through the darkness. It appeared to be the opening to a side cave or chamber. A warm golden light was emanating from it. Indistinct voices echoed out from inside.

One was a woman’s.

Kendril glanced quickly over at Tomas.

The other Ghostwalker nodded.

Kendril glanced back over his shoulder towards the far end of the cave.

The shadows of the Jombards around the fire danced on the high walls of the sea cave like cavorting specters.

Tomas started to move forward.

Kendril grabbed the man by the arm, and shook his head. “Me first,” he whispered.

Tomas gave Kendril a skeptical glance.

Kendril ignored him and moved towards the side cave. He stayed as low as he could.

He wasn’t going to let Bronwyn get away. Not this time.

The side chamber had been carved out by the water of the ocean over time. It was a wide crack that moved further back into the recess of the cave wall.

Kendril moved inside quietly. Ahead he could hear the voices. They sounded close, right around the corner.

His heart beat a little faster. The woman’s voice. It was speaking the same unintelligible tongue as the Jombards, but there was no mistaking it.

Bronwyn
.

Kendril stood up to his full height. He put one hand on each of his pistols, then turned the corner.

The chamber was small, lit by a lamp that was set in the middle of the floor. Four figures were seated on makeshift chairs, talking animatedly. Three of them were Jombards. They wore the simple wool trousers, blue and white war paint, and animal skins of the barbarian tribe.

The fourth person was a startlingly beautiful woman with long black hair and amber eyes that glowed like gold in the lamplight. She was seated on a stool against the far wall, wearing a black robe with a white hood.

Kendril walked into the room.

The conversation ceased abruptly. The three Jombards jumped to their feet.

Bronwyn stared at Kendril, her mouth open. She seemed, for the first time since Kendril had known her, to be genuinely surprised.

“Hello, Bronwyn,” Kendril said with a smile.

The Jombards reached for their weapons.

Kendril whipped out both his pistols and fired. The clapping
boom
resounded in the small room like thunder.

Two of the Jombards were blown back into the walls of the cave, their heads shattered by the pistol balls.

The third came at Kendril with a scream. An axe was in his hand.

Kendril smiled like a savage beast. He dropped his pistols and pulled out his short swords.

Hand to hand, face to face combat.
Finally
.

The Jombard chopped furiously, sounding a shrill war cry.

Kendril deflected the blow just in time with one of his swords, then swiped forward with his second blade.

The slash caught the Jombard’s exposed arm, cutting it past his elbow.

The Jombard screamed in rage and pain. He swung his axe at Kendril’s head.

Kendril ducked low, then pierced his sword into the Jombard’s unarmored body.

The Jombard’s eyes went wide. He let out a strange gasp, then crumpled to the ground.

Kendril twisted his short sword free of the corpse, then turned to face Bronwyn.

She was on her feet. A long dagger was in her hand.

“Just you and me,” Kendril said. He took a step towards her.

Bronwyn’s eyes glanced around like a caged beast. She jumped forward suddenly.

Kendril brought up his swords, expecting an attack.

Instead, Bronwyn snatched a pendant from her neck and held it high in her hand.

It was oval and amber, glistening like honey in the lamplight of the room. It flashed and glowed with a sudden life all its own.

A sudden memory ignited in Kendril’s mind. Back in Balneth, Bronwyn had had a similar pendant, one that she had used to hypnotically control Jade.

It was magic. Foul, dark magic.

Instinctively, Kendril turned his head and averted his eyes from the amber jewel.

“He is your enemy,” Bronwyn said. Her voice was deep and otherworldly. “
Kill him
.”

Kendril kept his eyes shut. He lashed out a hand, groping blindly for where one of the wooden stools had been to his right. His hand found it. He hurled it forward with all his might.

Bronwyn gave a sharp cry.

Kendril risked opening his eyes.

Bronwyn was sprawled back on the stone floor of the chamber, stunned. The pendant lay a few feet away from her, dead and lifeless. Recovering, Bronwyn snatched for it.

Kendril was faster. He ran forward and kicked the pendant far out of Bronwyn’s reach. “Nice try,” he said. He brought the tip of his sword to within an inch of the witch’s throat. “Your mind games aren’t going to work with me.”

Bronwyn brought up both her hands in playful surrender. There was still a mocking smile on her face. “I never thought they would,” she said sweetly.

There was a slight, soft sound of a footfall on the stone behind Kendril.

A warning shot through Kendril’s brain. It was his sixth sense, the danger alarm that had saved his life countless times in the past. He moved before he had even consciously decided to do so, flinging himself to one side.