Soulbinder (Book 3) (9 page)

The two adventurers stood side by side, staring in awe-struck silence. The entryway to the pillared hall lay behind them, miniscule in comparison to the space before them.

“Vesuna’s blood,” Kendril whispered.

“Shutter the lantern,” said Joseph suddenly.

The Ghostwalker gave him a puzzled look.

Joseph pointed at the lantern again, his eyes still on the cavernous space before them.

Kendril flipped the shutters closed one by one.

At first, the darkness seemed to swallow them whole, like some kind of primeval beast. But then a greenish glow began to fill the cave, faintly at first, and then stronger and stronger.

Kendril looked around at the walls and ceiling, amazed. “What--?”

“Phosphorescent moss,” Joseph whispered. He pointed to the far walls of the cavern, now barely visible in the greenish glow. “It’s covering the place.”

“Great,” said Kendril. He gave an uncomfortable glance around. “I don’t—”

The Ghostwalker stopped mid-sentence, his eyes fastened on something in the distance.

Joseph followed his gaze, and felt a sharp chill fill his heart.

There, standing almost as high as the ceiling itself, was a huge statue, visible now in the eerie glow from the moss. It had the body of the man, but the head of a snarling rat. Both of its hands were held forward, as if demanding worship.

“Great Eru,” breathed Joseph.

“Looks like we found Belrannu,” said Kendril.

“What do you mean?” Kara took a step away from the raised platform, suspicion growing afresh in her mind. “Found
what
?”

Galla continued to stare at the necklace, mesmerized. “They said it was only a legend,” he whispered. “They
all
did. But they were wrong.” He gave a disturbing chuckle, his eyes flashing madly.

Maklavir stepped off the platform as well. He glanced uncertainly over at Kara.

Kara’s hand reached instinctively for the knife at her belt. She suddenly found herself wishing that Kendril and Joseph had not wandered so far off.

“I think we should go,” murmured Joseph.

“I think you’re right,” said Kendril. He took a step back, his eyes still riveted on the statue. There was a sudden crunch from the ground. He froze and looked down.

The ground was covered with bones. Hundreds of them littered the floor in all directions.

“It can’t be—” said Joseph in horror.

“The pagan priests of Belrannu demanded human sacrifices,” said Kendril slowly. He picked up a bone, looking at it with equal parts of wonder and revulsion. “Tradition says that the captives were left chained to die, eaten alive by wolfrats.” He tossed it back to the ground with a clatter.

“There
are
no more wolfrats,” said Joseph, glancing nervously around. “They died out hundreds of years ago.”

They both heard the chittering snarl at the same time. They turned, the blood freezing in both their veins.

There, on a rock not more than fifty feet away, outlined in the greenish glow of the cavern, was a dark beast with a long tail, as big as a large dog. Its eyes glowed red in the dark cave, burning like coals.

“Tell that to him,” Kendril said.

Chapter 6

“What in the Halls of Pelos are you talking about?” Maklavir backed carefully away, suspicion filling his voice. “I think you have some explaining to do here, Galla.”

The priest looked up suddenly, as if coming back into reality. His eyes darted fearfully from Kara to Maklavir. “I meant—”

They all heard it at the same time.

A single gunshot echoed up from the open stairwell. Even though the sound was coming from far below them, it sounded like a rolling thunderclap in the silent room. All three heads turned at once.

“What in Eru’s—” Maklavir began.

“Kendril and Joseph,” Kara said quickly. The bow and quiver of arrows was off the floor and in her hands in an instant. She turned back to Maklavir. “They’re in trouble.”

They ran.

Joseph stumbled at the entryway to the pillared hall, hitting his knee hard on the stone flagons underfoot.

Kendril grabbed him by the back of his greatcoat without breaking his stride, and yanked Joseph back to his feet.

“The stairs,” the Ghostwalker shouted. “
Go
!” He spun around and whipped out a pistol from beneath his cloak.

Joseph stumbled forward a few steps and drew his rapier. He turned back around.

There were more wolfrats than he could count.

They scurried over the floor of the cavern, chittering shrilly as their claws clattered and scrambled over the hard stone. Red eyes burned into the darkness, hungry for flesh.

Kendril’s pistol fired, the sharp flash of light followed by an echoing boom that reverberated out into the cavern before them.

One of the wolfrats stumbled, black blood spurting from a crippling wound in its side. It gave a hideous shriek of pain, thrashing in agony as it tried to get up.

The wolfrats around it descended at once, tearing the creature to shreds in an instant.

Joseph made it to the foot of the stairs. He turned back, rapier at the ready, instinctively waiting for Kendril.

The Ghostwalker was not far behind. “There’s more,” he shouted breathlessly. He holstered his pistol, and drew one of his short swords. “And they’re coming fast.”

One glance told Joseph that Kendril was right.

Three wolfrats, unperturbed by the fall of one of their own, were moving fast between the pillars of the hall, intent on the prey before them.

Kendril stepped into the narrow stairwell. He turned to face the oncoming beasts. “Get back to the others and get them topside,” he said. “I’ll hold the rats.”

Joseph stepped up into the winding staircase beside his black-cloaked friend, but hesitated for a moment at the thought of abandoning him.

“
Go
,” Kendril hissed. His eyes shot back to the three rapidly approaching forms in the hallway before them. “Now, for Eru’s sake!”

Joseph hesitated one more crucial moment, then dashed up the stairs.

Left by himself, Kendril backed up the stairs as he quickly as he could, one hand still holding the lantern and the other holding the short sword.

He was almost around the bend when the first wolfrat lunged into the stairwell.

With an unearthly snarl, it lunged forward.

Maklavir glanced uneasily at the stairwell, his sword in his hand. “I say, what could they have been shooting
at
, exactly? I mean, this place is deserted, right…?”

Kara notched an arrow to her bow. “Maklavir, you stay here with Galla. I’m going down.”

“What?” said Maklavir, his face white. “By yourself?”

Kara stepped around one of the stone benches. “They might need help.”

Galla stepped quickly off the platform and shoved the jeweled necklace into his robe. He snatched a lit lantern off a nearby stone bench, then started quickly for the stairs leading back up to the entry chamber.

“Hey,” Kara called after him. “
Hey
!”

Galla disappeared up the stairs.

Kara stood for a moment, torn with indecision. Then she turned, racing after him. “Watch the stairs!” she shouted at Maklavir as she brushed by him.

The hapless diplomat swallowed, tightening his increasingly sweaty grip on his sword. He turned back to face the stairs leading down.

“Right,” he said under his breath.

Kendril stabbed forward with his sword.

The razor-sharp tip caught the wolfrat in the jaw just as it was lurching forward to take a chunk out of the Ghostwalker’s leg.

Kendril felt the blade penetrate at least six inches into its flesh.

The creature jerked back, giving a shrill scream and spraying black blood all over the stairs.

Kendril stepped blindly back, giving sharp thrusts with his sword as he went.

A second wolfrat came chittering into the stairwell, clawing its way over its injured fellow.

A third stuck its head around the bend at the bottom, snarling through yellow teeth.

Kendril slashed forward once more with the sword, then, almost without thinking, he hurled the lantern in his left hand down the stairs.

Galla reached the top of the stairs, panting heavily. He scurried through the entryway room, ignoring the hideous statues surrounding him on all sides. Throwing the lantern to the ground, he grasped the rope with both hands and began to pull himself up.

Kara came to the top of the stairs, her green cloak flapping behind her as she ran. “
Galla
!” she called.

The Baderan didn’t stop. He moved up the rope with surprising quickness.

Kara’s hand tensed on her bow for a moment.

Then with a strangled curse she threw it aside and ran for the rope herself.

Maklavir brought up his sword as the figure emerged from the stairwell. He relaxed as soon as he recognized the figure in the flickering light.

“Joseph? What in the Halls of Pe—?”

“Get back to the rope!” The scout ordered. He turned, taking in the room at a single glance. “Where are Kara and Galla?”

“One step ahead of you, apparently,” said Maklavir. “Has Kendril finally gotten himself killed, or should we be expecting him too?”

“He’s coming,” said Joseph, grabbing the diplomat by the sleeve. “And we’re leaving.”

Maklavir turned to follow his companion towards the stairs behind them.

“About bloody time,” he said.

The lantern hit the wall and exploded. Burning oil splashed over the black creatures in its path.

There was a hideous mix of screams, along with the sudden stench of burning fur and flesh.

Kendril backed up two more steps, shielding his face from the sudden burst of heat. He turned, half crawling and half feeling his way around the spiral bend of the staircase. Finding his feet, he started scrabbling up the stairway as fast as he could, tripping and clutching his way with one hand against the wall.

Behind him, the screams of the burning rats echoed up and down off the walls.

Galla grasped the edge of the hole with one hand, then two, and pulled himself up. He rolled out onto the temple floor, panting heavily.

The first steaks of daylight were slashing in through the temple entrance, along with a chill breeze.

He turned back to the hole. The rope was swaying back and forth. Galla gave a very un-priestly curse, and turned to the wall where the rope was attached.

With one quick motion, he jerked the dagger from his belt.

“What in the Halls of Pelos is that?”

Maklavir gave a half-turn and looked back in the direction of the horrible shrieking noise coming from behind them.

“Rats,” said Joseph simply. He jumped up another two stairs.

Still glancing behind him, Maklavir went up the next few steps as well. “We’re running from rats?”

Joseph spotted the opening to the entry room just above them.

“
Big
rats,” he corrected.

Kara winced as dirt brushed down into her face from the edge of the hole above her. Galla had just disappeared over the rim a few moments before. She continued to climb as quickly as she could. Her arms burned from the effort.

For a stabbing moment she wondered whether she was doing the right thing. Joseph and Kendril might be in serious trouble down below, and here she was chasing after the cowardly priest.

Still, the thought of the Baderan running free seemed somehow more dangerous than whatever Kendril and Joseph had run into.

She pulled herself up the last few feet. The edge of the hole was within arm’s

reach.

Kara reached out a hand.

Kendril staggered out the top of the stairs into the room with the stone coffer. The smell of burning rat followed close behind him.

No one else was in sight.

With one last glance at the stairs behind him, he dashed across the room, his sword still in his hand.

At last, he thought, things were starting to go well.

Galla sawed furiously at the rope, the strands twisting and snapping one by one. With one last grunt of exertion, the thin blade tore through the last bit of cord.

There was a low thump as the severed end of the rope hit the ground, swished across the short stretch of floor and disappeared over the edge.

For the first time since finding the jeweled pendant, Galla smiled.

Joseph and Maklavir both cleared the top of the stairs. They started quickly across the room.

Maklavir gave another uneasy glance at the statues of the pagan gods. “Now, when you say
big
rats--” he began.

They both saw it at the same time.

The end of the rope came down through the hole in the ceiling, and landed in an uneven heap on the floor in front of them.

For the space of a heartbeat they stared in stunned silence.

“Oh dear,” said Maklavir.

Kara hung by one hand. Dirt and rocks crumbled down onto her shoulder and head. With a grunt, she threw up her other hand and grabbed the rim of the hole.

What had happened? Had the rope broken?

She spat the dirt out of her mouth, and prepared to pull herself up.

A face suddenly appeared above her.

Kara looked up and saw Galla standing above her. “Give me a hand!” she begged. She twisted her head to avoid another tumbling rock.

Galla didn’t move. He stared at her impassively. “Sorry,” he said in a cold voice.

Kara looked up in shocked amazement.

Galla’s boot crashed down on her left hand.

Maklavir and Joseph moved quickly to the fallen rope.

The diplomat scratched his goatee in puzzlement. “Now why--?”

Joseph reached down for the end of the rope, and looked up the hole at the same moment.

He dropped the rope instantly.

Blinding pain smashed through Kara’s hand as Galla’s boot crushed it.

Instinctively she let go of her grip, hanging only by her right hand. She twirled unsteadily for a minute, feeling more rocks and dirt shower down onto her head.