Soulbinder (Book 3) (8 page)

Kara set her lantern down on top of a nearby stone slab. “I should have seen it before,” she said with a cold smile. “You’re a thief.”

Galla jerked his head up.

“More like tomb-robber,” Maklavir said. “A pursuit which, I might add, is illegal in most of the civilized nations of Rothland.”

Galla’s face turned hard. “Do you have
any
idea,” he said, “how much time, how much effort, how much money I have spent finding this place? No one else believed me. No one else even thought it existed.” He got to his feet, a book still in his hand. “There may well be something of value in this box. If there is,” his gaze shifted towards the rest of the party, “then we can all profit from it. Unless, of course, you want to stop me now.”

Joseph crossed his arms, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Well,” he said after a moment, “whatever’s in there is most likely of pagan origin. I don’t really see a problem with it.”

“Exactly,” said Galla quickly. “It’s not like we’re stealing from Eru. Why not profit if we can?”

Kara gave a dark chuckle.

Kendril gave a disgusted shake of his head. “Fine, have fun robbing the temple.” He turned to Joseph. “Maybe you and I should take a look around while Galla here is pilfering the antiquities.”

Joseph gave a thoughtful nod. “Can’t hurt.” He looked over at Galla, who was already lost in translating the runes. He stepped over to Kara, and lowered his voice. “You mind keeping an eye on our Baderan friend here?”

The redhead smiled. “No problem. I’ll make sure he doesn’t try anything while you guys are gone.”

Maklavir came striding up, shaking loose cobweb strands from his cape. “I’ll stay here with Kara and Galla, I think. I’ve had enough tomb-crawling for one day.”

Kendril gave a half-smile. “Well, I’m sure we’ll miss your expertise, Maklavir, but it’s your decision.”

Joseph gave a silent smile, following the Ghostwalker towards the stairs that loomed out of the dark wall to the west.

Cracked stone pillars stood on each side of the yawning opening.

Kendril held up the lantern, looking down the winding flight of stone steps. “How far down do you think they go?”

“Only one way to find out, I suppose.”

“Right.” Kendril glanced back at Galla one last time, giving the priest a hard look.

The Baderan didn’t even notice.

“Let’s go,” Kendril said. He turned to the stairs.

They moved down the stairs in silence, save for the scuffling of their boots on the stone. The steps wound down in a tight spiral, twisting around ever deeper into the earth. Cobwebs and dust choked the passage.

Joseph kicked a rock out of his way. “So,” he said with a glance behind them at the stairs retreating into the darkness above, “you seem to know quite a bit about the Second Despair.”

Kendril kept his concentration focused on the stairs ahead of him. “I read a book on it once.”

“I noticed you also seem to know a lot about Xenin Jovar.” Joseph paused. “Not to mention the old gods.”

The Ghostwalker stopped, and turned back to his friend. The raised hood cast a deep shadow over his face in the sputtering lamp light. “Something you want to ask?”

Joseph stopped as well. “Yes, actually. Something I’ve been wondering for a long while. What is it that you
do
, exactly?”

Kendril smiled grimly. “You mean when I’m not plundering pagan temples?”

“I mean
you
, the Ghostwalkers.” Joseph subconsciously lowered his voice. “What do you and the other Ghostwalkers
do
?”

“We seek redemption for our sins,” Kendril replied stiffly.

“How?”

Kendril tilted his head back and looked at Joseph for a long moment.

“It’s strange,” Joseph continued, his eyes staring into the darkness ahead, “the things you seem to know. I doubt anyone else in that room could have picked out which one of the five principal Seteru was missing. But you did without even hesitating.”

The Ghostwalker was silent, the lantern sending its flickering glow all around them.

“This isn’t the first time,” Joseph continued. “I’ve often been surprised at your knowledge of the pagan religions and the Ages of Despair. I learned basic pagan mythology in seminary, but you seem to know it even better than me.”

Kendril stared hard at Joseph, but still said nothing.

“What I think, is that all this knowledge of yours has something to do with your vow. That you were
taught
it when you decided to become a Ghostwalker. What I can’t figure out is why.” Joseph looked up at Kendril. ”So what is it exactly that you and your fellow Ghostwalkers
do
, Kendril?”

Kendril continued to stare at Joseph, a deep frown on his face. A long moment of silence passed.

“Joseph,” he said as he turned away, “I hope to Eru that you never find out.”

“Well
he
certainly seems happy,” Kara said as she watched Galla work. She wrinkled her nose. “Makes one of us, anyway.”

“I find the place quite charming,” Maklavir commented dryly. He slashed lazily at a nearby cobweb with his unsheathed sword. “A little on the dusty side, perhaps, but it has a certain ambience to it.”

Kara crossed her arms, watching his sword flick to and fro. “You’re quite good at cutting spider webs. Ever thought of putting that arm to use in combat?”

Maklavir smirked. “And get all that blood on my clothes? I hardly think so. Besides, I find international diplomacy much more interesting, and far less messy.” He glanced up at Galla, who was feverishly flipping through one of his books by the stone coffer. Maklavir slipped a hand into his vest pocket and pulled out a watch, rubbing the face on his sleeve. “Like this,” he said with a smile, handing it over to Kara. “From the Duke of Haldew. He inscribed it to me right there on the back, for my service in settling a border dispute for him. You can’t get something like that by slaughtering people indiscriminately.”

Kara gave the token a polite glance, flipping it over and nodding. “It’s very nice, Maklavir.” She handed it back.

“Yes,” said the diplomat easily. “Of course, it has never kept time very well. Nor was it given to me by the Duke of Haldew.”

Kara threw him a startled look.

“That particular watch,” Maklavir continued, watching Galla as he spoke, “was given to me by Baron Archibald Von Derrit, as it clearly says on the back. But then, you wouldn’t know that, since you can’t read.” He gave her a sidelong glance, lifting his eyebrows. “Can you?”

Kara’s mouth dropped open, her face turning pale. She quickly recovered, clenching her jaw shut. She turned away. “How did you know?”

Maklavir gave a nonchalant shrug. “When you were looking at the paper we took from Galla, you seemed a little
too
earnest. Like someone pretending to read, instead of actually reading.” He looked back at Galla, who was paying no attention to them. “Of course, I’ve suspected for a while.”

“Well good for you,” said Kara sourly.

“Sorry about the watch,” said Maklavir sincerely. “I just wanted to know for certain.”

“Well now you do. Happy?”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Maklavir said quietly.

“I didn’t
say
I was ashamed,” Kara fired back. She took a deep breath, glaring down at her boots. “You don’t know what it’s like.”

Maklavir looked over at her in surprise. “What what’s like?”

“You were a diplomat. You worked for kings and queens. Probably had the finest education your family could afford. Am I right?”

He pursed his lips, but said nothing.

Kara fastened her eyes on Galla again. “Joseph went to seminary in Kendrake. His family was wealthy, too. Merchants of some kind or other. And Kendril…” she broke off, her words tinged with frustration. “Well, Eru only knows what
his
story is, but you know he was never begging for money on the streets.”

“I’m sorry,” said Maklavir slowly. “I didn’t mean—”

“I grew up in New Marlin,” the redhead continued, as if she hadn’t even heard Maklavir. “Ever been there? Great place if you have money, like the fat Calbraithan merchants who pay off the Guild Alliance to run their operations. Or the Arbelan nobles who fled the revolution, living off their tidy bank accounts. But if you don’t…” She paused, taking a breath. “Well, if you don’t, then life there is hell. I know, because my brother and I spent most of our lives there. We had to steal to survive. I didn’t have the time or money for learning anything that didn’t help me keep one step ahead of the merchants’ hired thugs.” She looked over at Maklavir, her face sparking with anger and pain. “So congratulations that you know my secret. Maybe if you had half the life I’ve had, you wouldn’t be so quick to look down your nose at me.”

“I was only curious,” said Maklavir, his face still calm, “because I was wondering if you would like me to teach you.”

Kara’s eyes widened. “What?”

Maklavir stroked his goatee thoughtfully. “To read.”

She blinked in surprise. “I…don’t…what?”

“Well, it would be more of a trade actually,” he said, giving his sword another swish at a nearby cobweb.

Kara uncrossed her arms. “What are you talking about?”

Maklavir kept his eyes on his sword. “Joseph told me you checked out Galla’s saddlebags back in town.”

“A lot of good it did us,” she snorted. “He was still lying.”

Maklavir gave another small swipe with his sword. “I took a look at those bags last night. Awfully big locks on them.” He looked up at the young woman. “How did you get past them?”

Kara gave Galla a cautionary glance, making sure he was still out of hearing. “I
picked
them, of course.”

“Ah,” said Maklavir with a slow smile, “now
that
would be one of the skills that I never learned, even with all my fancy education. All the same, I imagine it might come in handy for a man in my profession.”

Kara narrowed her gaze. “Let me get this straight. You want to teach me to read, if I teach you how to pick locks?”

Maklavir raised his free hand. “More or less.”

Kara looked down, thinking for a moment. She licked her lips, then glanced back up at her companion.

“If we do this,” she said quietly, “then you can’t tell the others. Especially,” she paused for a moment, “especially not Joseph.”

Maklavir made a sealing motion across his lips. “Mum’s the word.”

Kara started to reply when Galla jumped up with a shriek, tossing one of his books aside.

“I’ve got it!” he exclaimed, turning to face them with a wild grin. “I know how to open the box.”

“How far down exactly do you think this thing goes?”

Kendril frowned, leaning down to examine some broken stone on the floor. “Eru only knows. Whoever made it seems to have known what they were doing, though.”

Joseph crossed over to a broken stone statue, peering at it with idle curiosity. “A rat?”

Kendril tossed the stone he had been looking at back on the floor. He walked over to where his friend was. “A very
big
rat,” he commented, examining the statue in the dim light of the gloom, “which, if I remember correctly, is one of the forms taken by Belrannu in the pagan myths.”

They were standing in another large rectangular chamber. Behind them was the flight of stairs they had walked down. In front of them, at the far end of the hall, was a wide opening to some other darkened area. Pillars lined the hall on either side, trailing down towards the opposite end. Statues stood here and there in the gloom, like silent sentinels in the dark.

Joseph shook his head and stepped away from the stone beast. “I don’t like this.”

Kendril rubbed his chin with his free hand, looking into the darkness around them. “Neither do I. If priests of Eru really did hide out here, then why haven’t we seen any sign of it?”

Joseph stepped away from the statue, similar doubts gnawing at his own heart. He stopped suddenly, almost stepping on something on the ground in front of him. He motioned Kendril over.

“What is it?” the Ghostwalker held the lantern down, shining the light onto the ground.

Joseph frowned. “Spoor of some kind. And it looks fresh.”

In less than a moment Kendril’s pistol was in his hand. “What kind of animal?” he asked quietly.

His companion’s frown deepened. “I’m not sure.”

Kendril raised an eyebrow. “You’re the outdoorsman, Joseph.”

“I know, it’s just…” he leaned back, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I think we should look around a little bit more.”

“All right.” With a sharp click, Kendril snapped back the lock on his pistol. “We’ll just be extra
careful.”

“There’s a hidden catch,” said Galla excitedly, feeling along the side of the stone box. “Here, I think. One of the runes is out of place.”

Kara and Maklavir leaned in, suddenly interested.

“Here,” said Galla. His fingers coiled around the side of one of the corners.

A sudden, sharp click came from the box.  With a slight hiss of air, the top moved up about half an inch.

Kara and Maklavir instinctively stepped back.

Galla straightened. He eagerly reached both hands for the opened lid.

“Shouldn’t we check for traps first?” Kara ventured.

Galla looked at her for a moment, then turned his attention back to the box. With a heaving grunt he pushed the lid.

It slid off and crashed heavily to the floor behind.

All three of them stooped forward, peering into the inside of the coffer.

Galla reached down with trembling hands, and carefully lifted out a golden chain.

Attached to it was a dark red jewel of some kind, set in gold, about three or four inches long and oval in shape. Oddly enough, the precious stone didn’t seem to catch any of the light from the nearby lantern. Instead, it almost seemed to absorb it, the center fading into a cold dark redness.

“At last,” the Baderan whispered. “I’ve found it at last.”

The cavern was immense.

Immense wasn’t even the right word. It was large beyond description. The ceiling towered into the blackness above them, barely visible from where Kendril and Joseph stood. The far walls, if there even were any, were lost in the dark reaches of the cavern. At the very least, they had to be hundreds of feet away. Small pools of water glistened here and there in the lantern light, their surface occasionally rippled by a drop of water plummeting a hundred feet from the ceiling above.