Sorrow's Peak (Serpent of Time Book 2) (35 page)

The pines thinned, their rust-orange needles littering the ground reaching out to the sea beyond the cliffs. She saw white sails in the harbor, both arriving and departing as the sea birds disappeared into the water and came back up with wriggling fish clutched in the grip of their pouchy beaks.

The closer they grew to those cliffs, the louder the thunder of waves crashing against them grew. They were heading straight toward those cliffs, and Lorelei’s heart pounded harder in her chest as she realized there was nowhere to go but down once they reached them.

“There is a path cut into the cliffs, like stairs,” Alanuuin finally told them, gesturing with his hand in the direction they were traveling. “It will take us down onto the ledge. We can access the tunnel entrance from there.”

Only they were nothing at all like steps, Lorelei surmised with a grimace as they approached.

“Tether your horses here, and our rangers will come to fetch them, lead them to the passage on the other side of the city.”

“Maybe I could go with the rangers,” she suggested.

He didn’t reply, but went straight toward the edge of the cliff. Lorelei’s stomach lurched as she watched the lithe little boy skid down the craggy passage, bits of loose stone skittering over the edge and tumbling into the frothy sea battering endlessly at cliff face.

Brendolowyn reluctantly released Hrafn to hunt before he followed, and then Finn, but for a long time she teetered on the edge, her toes stretching to the very tips of her boots as she lingered behind, watching as everyone else made the descent. She stared at her own feet, the leather salt-stained and dirty grey around the toes, and tried not to focus on the dizziness that came from peering over the edge of so steep a drop.

“Come, Light of Madra,” Alanuuin called from the ledge. “It is not difficult, I promise.”

She didn’t believe him.

“There has to be another way.”

“The only other way is a cavern about twenty miles from this place. We would then have to double back to get to the city, and would likely not arrive until tomorrow. My master expects us this day.”

For a boy, he was very forthright and astute, as though he had several decades of experience on her and wasn’t about to let her petty fear of heights stand in the way of his mission to deliver her and her companions to his master.

And then, as if he meant to take the edge off of his scolding, he added in a gentle tone, “It only looks terrifying, but it is very safe.”

“I’ll stand right here, Princess.” Finn planted himself firmly at the bottom of the declining passage, like a rock that wouldn’t budge no matter what came barreling into him.

She muttered under her breath, combinations of words mingled with curses, and edged her toe along the dusty stones. She swore as she took the first step, she could feel the cliff crumbling beneath her foot, and then she was sliding, her boots skidding across jagged stone until she collided with Finn. Fortunately, he remained as solid as he’d promised, and the force of her body barely even budged him. His arms around her made her feel momentarily safe, and she clung to him, her fingers gripping the leather of his armor.

The wind on that cliff was precarious, rushing against them, whipping her hair into her face as she watched the Alvarii boy effortlessly draw back a rotting, wooden hatch from the gaping entrance into the underground world.

It was only a small bit of comfort to know she would not have to reclimb that cliff face to get back to daylight, but it seemed the nightmare had only just begun.

She may not have known much about the world, thanks to Aelfric’s insistence his daughters be taught the barest historical truths, but she did know about the underground Alvarii cities. She overheard Aelfric cursing them, but when she asked Pahjah if that was where her people lived, under the ground, her nurse told her such things were not to be discussed.

Listening when she should not, she learned enough by the time she was twelve-years-old to discern the Alvarii Underground were the escaped rebel slaves who gathered to make her father’s life miserable. She always imagined their cities to be dark, smelly places filled with filthy, miserable people, always coughing and hacking with sickness and disease.

Judging from the appearance of the small, collared boy who’d come to retrieve them, her assumption was probably correct. A fact that further confirmed her suspicions was the gaping hole Alanuuin disappeared into, hand after hand passing downward as he lowered himself along the rungs of the slick, rotting ladder descending into a deep, black hole with only the barest hint of light shining from the bottom.

Finn went next, insisting upon going first in order to break her fall if she slipped on the rungs. She hesitated, watching the hole swallow him up, and then Brendolowyn’s hand lowered onto her shoulder.

“It isn’t long to the ground,” he assured her.

“But it’s so dark.”

“Probably for the best,” he grinned.

She stretched her leg inside, feeling with her toes until she found the first rung and then she began to descend. Bren waited until she was several rungs down before following. He closed the portal over them, the darkness all-consuming.

Coupled with her insane fear of heights, Lorelei grew instantly claustrophobic. Terrifying thoughts entertained her overactive imagination, images of the earth around and above them caving in and suffocating them all. She closed her eyes, not that it mattered much. She couldn’t see when they were open, and the dense, reeking air felt so heavy in her lungs it made her dizzy. Every breath was a punching fist, hammering her terrified heart between her ribs until they felt bruised and sore.

Sensing her terror and attuned to the increased panic of her heart beat, Finn called out to her. “Almost there, Princess.” His voice echoed through the tunnel, amplifying his reassurance. “Not much further,” he coaxed.

Were it not for the sound of his promises, she might very well have lost her mind, but he called out nonsensical jokes, laughing at them when she didn’t and making her feel almost foolish for being so afraid of that which she could not see.

She tried to look down, to judge the closeness of that vague and dirty light below, and then she heard a heavy thud, like books dropping to the earth. The force of Finn’s leap off the last rung made the whole passage rattle and she swore several bits of clumped dirt, stone and droplets of water fell from above her.

“I’m down here, Princess. You’re almost there, I promise.”

“How almost there?”

“Ten, maybe twelve more steps and you’ll be at the bottom. You could probably drop down now and I could catch you if you wanted me to.”

She ignored his offer. Ten more steps wouldn’t be so bad, considering how far she’d already come, but each one seemed to take a lifetime to achieve. Above her, she could hear Brendolowyn moving, slowly and carefully to avoid coming down on her tightly gripped hands.

Never in her life had she been so far beneath the ground. Not even during the occasional, forbidden game of hide and seek in the castle dungeon when she and Mirien were small. Miri was never afraid of the dark, always hiding in the most awful places imaginable and calling out from the obscurity like a disembodied spirit. Then she would laugh and call her older sister a chicken.

Perhaps Mirien should have been the Light of Madra. Maybe the gods chose the wrong sister for their job.

“Drop down,” Finn urged. “I’ll catch you.”

“No.” She squeezed her eyes tight and felt beneath her foot for the next rung. “I’m all right.”

“You’re doing fine, my lady,” Bren reassured her from above. “Take your time. You’re nearly there.”

“I think that’s the part the scares me.” A nervous laugh caught in her throat as her imagination ran away into an entire city, dark, dank, cold and wet. “I don’t like this being underground thing. Isn’t there another way? Maybe Gwendoliir could just meet me outside and talk to me there.”

“My master has not been above ground in over thirty years,” Alanuuin called up to her, “and he has not foreseen himself above ground before his death.”

“How could anyone spend so much time underground? It’s not normal, especially for an elf. I thought the Alvarii loved the sun and nature and things that grow in its light.”

“They don’t exactly have much choice in the matter, my lady.”

Of course they didn’t. She knew that, but she was just so scared. What if their city collapsed while she was in it, and that was the reason the elven seer did not foresee his returning to the surface before the end of his life?

“King Aelfric drove my people underground,” Alanuuin said. “But we have made the best of a bad situation. I promise you Nua Duaan is not so dark and miserable a place as you might fear.”

“Nua Duaan?” Brendolowyn referred to the city by that name before, but she never asked the meaning of the words. “What does it mean?”

“New Day,” Brendolowyn said, his robes rustling as he took another step down the ladder. “Nua Duaan is nothing like you might imagine. It is filled with light, wonder and beauty beyond your wildest dreams.”

“You have been to this place many times before?” she asked, stretching her calf and searching for the next rung with the toe of her boot.

“I have. Hodon has sent me to treat with the Alvarii on many an occasion. Once we pass the gates and enter the city, you won’t even remember you are below the ground.”

She didn’t believe him.

Glancing upward, he’d kept his hood lifted, the darkness behind him completely shrouding the delicate but handsome features of his face. Only the sharp length of his nose gave evidence of his profile at all.

It took her longer than it should have to complete the final rungs of that ladder into darkness, but when she finally reached the bottom she saw it wasn’t really dark at all. A long row of beautiful orange lanterns stretched through the tunnel, lining both the left and right walls. It was nearly as bright as daylight on a stormy afternoon, and surprisingly not dirty at all. The passage beneath her feet was paved with pristine tan and white stones.

Even with the illusion distracting her from the fact that they were below ground, she needed to remind herself to inhale and exhale. Each breath felt strained, almost desperate as she clung to her misgivings about the world falling in upon them and suffocating them beneath its massive weight.

Finn stifled his natural stride to stay beside her, and she took great comfort in his nearness. Bren’s footsteps at her back were almost equally comforting, but it wasn’t quite enough for her to let go and ignore her natural instincts.

It took nearly as long for them to reach the gates of Nua Duaan as it had to walk from their camp to the tunnel entryway, and she was starting to notice the emptiness in her nervous stomach. She had no sense of direction whatsoever, not that her instincts for direction were great aboveground either, but she wondered if they were backtracking toward Port Felar, if the city truly was tucked safely beneath the port.

Hours passed before they finally arrived at a massive stone gateway, round and bright red. The lantern reflected an eerie, crimson glow on the two guards posted at the entry to the city. The guards were pristine, their uniforms crisp and the large ceremonial plumes decorating their helms barely wavered. They remained unmoving when they approached, as if they were carved from stone. It wasn’t until Alanuuin bowed before them and rose again that they parted from the doors and assumed position on each side. Stamping the butts of their spears on the stone with a loud thunk the locking mechanism of the gates began to groan and whir, clicking through the tumblers before spilling the doors inward with a yawning groan.

Both guards tipped their heads to the young boy and his charges, not looking up again until the four of them stepped beyond the gates and into the city of Nua Duaan.

Lorelei’s breath caught in her throat. The brightest light she’d ever seen, brighter than the sun at midsummer, spilled forward as if it longed to consume and illuminate every bit of darkness beyond the gates. It was warm as sunlight on her face and it drew her forward, almost as if her feet had no will of their own. The city opened up, beautiful buildings winding and rising like giants reaching for the illusion of a clear blue sky hanging lazily overhead.

It couldn’t possibly be real. It was illusion, magic like the mages in Dunvarak used to make the land in Rimian habitable, on a much larger scale than she could have possibly imagined. Its lack of tangibility didn’t make it any less breathtaking to behold, and when Bren stepped up on her right side and said, “See, I told you it was an incredible thing,” she grinned back at him, stunned speechless.

An ageless, silver-haired Alvarii in flowing robes stepped forward to meet them and Lorelei stopped, nearly stumbling into Finn’s back as she watched the old elf kneel and spread his arms in welcome to the boy who’d led them. Alanuuin ran with a child’s abandon into his master’s embrace and Gwendoliir smiled affectionately as he held the child to his chest.

“Welcome home,” he began to withdraw and rise. “You have done well, me tjaneir.” His hand lingered on Alanuuin’s shoulder as he stepped forward to greet his guests. “Light of Madra,” he lowered his head in reverent greeting. Eyes closed, face softening, it was with the sincerest form of grace he said, “Welcome to Nua Duaan.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

Brendolowyn wished with all his heart each time he made the journey to Nua Duaan it would feel like coming home. By all rights, it should have. He was surrounded by his mother’s people, the familiarity of their traditions visible in every aspect of the city surrounding him. The graceful buildings, spiraling upward into the mockery of clouds hovering overhead, the delicate carvings etched into all the woodwork, the flowing, embroidered gowns of the people moving casually through the streets was more familiar to him than his actual memories of home. But Nua Duaan was an unnatural fabrication. One that never sat well with him even when he reminded himself how necessary the magic used to sustain the city was for the survival of the people who dwelt there.