Perilous Shadows: Book 6 Circles of Light (5 page)

Ren had told them of
various protected gardens at the rear of the Menedula, where he
thought they should camp but he, like everyone else, was having
doubts about spending a night in this eerie place. Approaching the
side of the Menedula, they saw the broad and steep flight of steps
leading up to huge double doors, both sides of which hung drunkenly
from broken hinges.

Ren took them right up
to the steps then along the depth of the building. The black stone
looked as though it should have gleamed in the last light of the
setting sun but the walls were sullen and flat. Ren led the way
into deep shadow beside a high wall to their left, the Menedula
itself to their right. The horses snorted and pulled at the leading
reins. Essa held two of the spare horses and her arms didn’t seem
to move against the tug of their tossing heads.

At last Ren took them
through an open arch and they found they were in a large
rectangular garden. Water splashed from a small broken fountain at
one end and overflowed into a tiled pool. Shivan handed his horse
to the nearest person, Fedran, and began to check the area. They
waited in the gathering gloom until he came back looking a little
puzzled.

‘No bones, nothing,’ he
said. ‘I would have thought people would perhaps have tried to hide
here.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s clear anyway.’

Volk immediately set
about testing the freshness of the water before letting the horses
drink. The company fell quickly into the routine for making camp
while Konya and Khosa prowled what remained of the
garden.

‘We set guards
tonight,’ said Sket firmly.

There was a flurry of
large wings and Farn landed carefully in the confined space. A
bugling call came from above and heads tilted to look up at the
roof of the Menedula which showed sharp against the last of the
light. Brin, Kija and Storm peered down from what seemed an ornate
but wide ledge surrounding the peaked roof. Tika sent a thought to
the three, asking them to be alert through the coming night. She
wasn’t sure it was entirely necessary but the whole place had such
a weird air about it that she preferred to err on the side of
caution.

A sombre silence
accompanied their meal and the guards scavenged every burnable
scrap they could to build their fire higher than usual. Sleep took
a while coming and was broken for most of them. It was a relief
when dawn arrived and people could stop lying in their blankets,
nervous of every sound. Volk had no wish whatsoever to enter the
Menedula so he elected to remain with the horses, and Geffal
volunteered to stay with him. Farn wasn’t happy that he would be
unable to get into the passageways of the great building and
reluctantly agreed to wait on the rooftop.

Eight guards waited for
Tika to give orders, and she was pondering what they should be.
Eventually, she sighed.

‘I was going to suggest
we split up and search floor by floor. But quite frankly, I’d
rather we stayed together. I can sense nothing alive in this
building, any more than in the town.’

Ren nodded without much
enthusiasm. Shivan moved alongside him, glancing back at
Tika.

‘Shall I use cold fire
if the ways are too – cluttered?’

She nodded curtly and
followed him, her company falling in around and behind her. Shea
tugged her sleeve and Tika looked at her, realising the girl was
nearly her own height. She did so wish she could grow just a little
bit taller, unlikely as that might seem.

‘I haven’t seen any
ghosts, have you?’ Shea whispered. ‘There should be crowds and
crowds of them I would have thought.’

They were now entering
the building; a door lay split and broken to one side. Tika stared
intently down long black corridors and realised Shea was right. She
had never consciously seen ghosts before she visited Kelshan, but
she felt sure, having seen them there, they would continue to be
visible to her if any were in her vicinity. She stopped. Shivan had
gone ahead and fire streamed from his spread fingers. There was no
smell, and when they moved on, she couldn’t see even the finest
layer of ash where bones must have impeded their path.

‘Ren,’ she called
quietly.

He turned back and
waited for her to catch up.

‘Are there gods here?
Did people call on gods?’

Ren frowned. ‘I don’t
think so, not since before Sedka’s time. Country people still left
gifts out for Sedka’s wife Dalena. They believed she helped
them.’

‘In what way did she
help?’ Tika persisted as Ren began walking after Shivan
again.

Ren shrugged. ‘They
thought she increased the fertility of the land, of their animals,
and of the women.’

Tika grunted. She
couldn’t imagine such a person being much use to them in their
present circumstances.

‘There are songs I seem
to remember, about a fierce hunter, or warrior – I suppose you
might call him a god.’

Tika wasn’t too sure
about the value of someone like that either, but they’d reached a
high landing. From the fret worked stone of the balustrade, they
looked down into a vast hall. It was dark, ominous, filled with
shifting shadows.

Shea stared down
thoughtfully. ‘It would look lovely with lots of lamps, don’t you
think?’ she remarked.

Ren pointed to the wall
directly opposite, and by looking hard, they saw a line of black
shutters running the length of the wall.

‘They were always open.
Always,’ he said, and turned away.

The corridors and
stairs from there on were, surprisingly, almost empty of corpses.
By the time Ren stopped outside an unembellished black wood door
the whole company were aware of a rise in tension. Khosa wriggled
out of Konya’s arms and stalked forward to sit by Tika’s feet, her
orange fur bristling to make her seem twice her normal size. Her
tail thrashed constantly. Tika glanced at Shivan.

‘There is no life in
there,’ she said.

The Dark Lord rested
his hand on the door and pushed it open. Dog came closer to Sket,
one hand inside her battered satchel in which she carried her share
of poppers. Carefully, Sket entered the room, his sword half drawn,
his body relaxed yet ready for any need for swift reaction. They
found themselves in a large room which appeared to be used for both
work and leisure. Tall bookcases lined the walls and a large table,
under one window, was covered with more books, some open, and many
papers, as if whoever had been working there had just stepped out
for a moment.

But the air was chill,
dust clouded the surface of other smaller tables, and there was a
suggestion of dampness, of mildew in the air. Ren went to the large
table and bent over the papers while Konya moved slowly along the
bookshelves, trying to read the titles. Guards spread through the
room but were wary of touching anything in this place.

Tika stood in the
centre, turning in a slow circle, testing the fabric of the room
with a tendril of power. Aah. She moved to a space between two
bookcases. She looked at the floor. A small knife lay half
protruding into the room.

‘Shivan,’ she said
quietly.

He was beside her at
once. Tika realised his mind was touching the edge of hers, probing
the wall for wards and traps. She remembered, with a pang, how Mim
had been able to join his mind with hers to unravel bindings in the
Northern Stronghold.

‘Nothing,’ Shivan
murmured.

There were indeed no
wards, but the door held fractionally ajar by that ornamental knife
was cunningly made: Tika could see no lock, no catch, whereby it
could be opened, at least from this side. She reached to hold the
side of the door, finding there was only just room for her fingers
to slip through the gap. Shivan kicked the knife aside and Tika
pulled the door wide. She loosened her hold on the door and it
immediately pushed towards her. Clearly it was weighted in some way
so that it could not be accidentally left open. Shea stuck her head
under Tika’s arm.

‘Someone will have to
hold it. Look, there’s no handle or anything, so we can’t wedge it
with a chair.’

Tika smiled
involuntarily. ‘So you know all about wedging doors
open.’

Shea gave her an odd
glance. ‘I know about wedging doors shut.’

Her flat tone reminded
Tika of Shea’s background. ‘Sorry,’ she whispered, and received a
broad smile.

‘Darrick and Corim,
hold this door wide,’ Sket ordered.

Regardless of Tika’s
comment that neither she nor Shivan sensed anything, he drew his
sword and strode through the door. A wall closed off the narrow
passageway to the left, so Sket turned right. Behind Tika, Shivan
raised a glow stone above their heads. Tika vaguely noticed the
light was more yellowy in Shivan’s grip than in Ren’s. The passage
widened, forming a small circular space where Sket
halted.

Shivan’s light winked
back at them from seven gold disks in front of them. They were
hanging as though suspended from a chain, or a rope, but there was
no chain visible. The disks were of different sizes, the smallest
at about Essa’s head height, the rest increasing slightly in
diameter the lower they went. The middle disk was perhaps a
handspan across and a finger’s width in thickness. Ren squeezed
through, staring in awe at the disks floating in that impossible
suspension. His hand began to reach out and Tika chopped his arm
down, hard. He looked at her in astonishment.

‘You will die if you
touch one,’ she told him. ‘One of the Weights was stolen from
Gaharn. Lady Emla and her people believed that a similar weight
must be removed from the Balance that they knew existed in the
Northern Stronghold. This would restore the Balance.’

She stared at the
Weights a moment more. There was nothing else at all here, no book,
no cup, no chair, just the silent, gleaming disks.

‘Let’s get out of
here.’

Once all her company
were back in the large room, Tika gestured Darrick and Corim away
from the door. It swung heavily and silently closed, leaving not
even a hairline mark to indicate where it was.

‘But can you open it
again?’ Ren asked anxiously.

Tika regarded him
sternly. ‘I expect so, but I’ll need a good reason to do
so.’

Ren looked
exasperated.

‘Did you not hear what
I said Ren? You touch those disks, and you die. I was to have been
the one to remove a Weight, but Bark took my place. Those Weights
hang in some connection with time. Bark was old, but he appeared
ancient in the few heartbeats that he held the Weight. Before I
killed him.’

Her eyes were wide with
memory and Khosa wound round her ankles. She had witnessed what
Tika spoke of. Tika bent and scooped Khosa up against her
shoulder.

‘They are best left
where they are, untouched and forgotten.’

Sket observed that the
rest of the company believed every word, but Ren did not. Ren had
seemed a timid man, an unlikely choice by Babach to cross the
distance between the Menedula and the Northern Stronghold, half a
world away. He had travelled with them, across Sapphrea, the great
desert of Biting Sand, through Malesh and over another sea to
Wendla and back. Yet now that Sket considered the matter, Ren had
rarely been a participant in events they’d faced, always an
observer. Sket decided he must think more on this matter before he
spoke of his growing concern to Tika.

Ren chose not to argue
with Tika any further, instead changing the subject and pointing to
the large table.

‘There are paintings
and sketches on there. They look as if they were done by a child.
Mena must have been held here.’

Tika went over to pick
through some of the papers.

‘What did that old bird
mean about the magic going from the Oblaka I wonder?’

She tossed the papers
she’d been looking through back onto the table. Her gaze was caught
by Essa’s hand moving up to touch the front of her shirt, just
below her throat. Hmm. Perhaps Essa was right and the magic Hag had
felt came from the pendant which now lay round Essa’s neck. But it
had been inanimate whilst Mena wore it. So what other magic might
have been at work there, that she’d missed? She dragged her
attention back to this room.

Shivan had been
flipping through one of the books which he now dropped among the
others.

‘I think this was Cho
Petak’s personal room,’ he said quietly. ‘But there is nothing of
interest to us left here.’

Konya slapped his arm.
‘All these books, young man, and you say there’s nothing of
interest?’ She winked when Shivan rolled his eyes.

‘I’m sure the books
would be fascinating,’ Tika smiled. ‘But we’re looking for
something other than books.’

‘Unless Cho Petak kept
a journal, you’re probably correct.’ Konya meant the words as a
jest but then found Tika and Shivan concentrating on her
uncomfortably seriously. ‘He wouldn’t. You can’t think someone like
him would keep account of his days? “Today I destroyed a town.
Tomorrow I will torture the adults of the next town.” Oh
please.’

Shivan’s mouth twitched
and Tika spluttered a laugh.