The Grieving Tree: The Dragon Below Book II (40 page)

He fell silent as a rumble grew out of Dah’mir’s belly. The dragon rose and paced forward. Singe could feel every footfall through the stone floor. Dah’mir looked down on them. “There’s one unaccounted for,” he said. “Where’s Geth?”

Tzaryan repeated Robrand’s news of Geth’s flight with Ekhaas. The rumble deepened. “Find him for me, Tzaryan,” said Dah’mir.
“I owe him a special debt.” He lowered his head until his eyes stared into Singe’s. “It was a mistake coming here, Singe. Once I learned where you were going, I knew exactly what you were trying to do.”

Singe shivered as Dah’mir’s acrid breath whispered across his face. From the corner of his eye, he saw Orshok turn pale. “How did you know we were coming here?” the young orc asked. There was fear in his face. Singe felt an echo of it. Who knew they had been headed to Tzaryan Keep—or even that they were looking for the Spires of the Forge? Had Dah’mir found Bava after all? Had he somehow tracked down Batul and Krepis?

Vennet answered for the dragon. “A good sailor obeys his captain,” he said. His lips twitched slightly. “Karth was a good sailor in the end.”

The crusted blood that stained Vennet’s clothes.
“Lightning on Water
…” Singe breathed.

Vennet turned his smile on him. “… never made it to Sharn,” he finished for him. “Although I’m sure Marolis still had her on course right up until I split him open.”

Dread and disgust squeezed Singe’s chest. “Twelve moons, Vennet, your own crew? Your ship?”

“A ship?” Vennet’s voice rose and broke. “What need do I have of a ship when soon I’ll have command of the wind itself?” He shrugged with his free arm and his open shirt slipped down to expose part of his shoulders and back. “Do you see the power of the Dragon Below? My dragonmark grows. By the blessing of the master of my master, I will bear the Siberys Mark of Storm!”

Singe felt Robrand stiffen and mutter a curse of disgust. Orshok looked away. The bright pattern of Vennet’s dragonmark was red and inflamed, as if he had been scratching at it. Patches were crusted with scabs. An open sore over his shoulder blade oozed thin liquid and pus. If the mark had actually grown, though, Singe couldn’t see it.

Dah’mir’s blunt muzzle opened in something like a grin. “I hope you found what you were looking for in Taruuzh Kraat. Do you think it was worth the price?”

A spark of anger rekindled itself in Singe’s gut. He clenched his jaw and met the dragon’s gaze with grim determination. “We found Marg’s device and his ravings. We know Taruuzh’s story.”
He narrowed his eyes and added, “We know that the magic of the binding stone is the same magic that defeated the Master of Silence. Your master.”

Less than an armslength from his face, teeth larger than knives clashed together. “Ironic,” Dah’mir said, “isn’t it? My master’s servants will be born from his defeat.”

Singe forced himself to stand tall when every instinct urged him to cower. “The binding stone that Marg made is broken. Dandra smashed it.”

“So I have found.” Dah’mir’s eyes shone. “But I studied the great stone for two hundred years. I understand the magic better than Marg ever did and I have centuries more to perfect it. I will create another.”

“If you could,” said Singe, “you would have already.”

Dah’mir reared back with a furious roar. Hruucan looked enraged at Singe’s defiance. His fiery tentacles struck the air like angry serpents and he lunged forward, but one of Dah’mir’s thick legs slammed down between him and Singe with such force that the stones underfoot cracked. Hruucan reeled away. Singe staggered, falling back against Robrand. Dah’mir glared down at him. “I didn’t have Dandra and Tektashtai to study before.”

Singe swallowed and staggered back to his feet. “You still don’t!”

“Be glad of that,” Dah’mir said, grinding the words between his teeth, “or I would already have given you to Hruucan.”

The sound of heavy running echoed from the side corridor down which Chuut and his squad had pursued Ashi and Dandra. Moments later, the ogres burst into the long hall. Dandra and Ashi weren’t with them. Chuut slid to a stop and dropped to one knee before Tzaryan. “My lord, they tricked us. We lost them.”

For a moment, Singe felt a surge of hope. Dah’mir’s growl rumbled on the air. Tzaryan looked furious—and embarassed. “General, take command. I’ll take charge of your prisoner,” the ogre mage said, striding forward. Singe’s heart froze as he reached for him. “Turn the patrols you have looking for Ekhaas and Geth and set them after Dandra and Ashi. I want the keep searched—”

“No,” said Dah’mir.

Tzaryan paused in midstride. “Dah’mir?”

“Searching will take too much time. I want Dandra found now.” The dragon eased himself back. His eyes flashed. “Chain!”

The big man flinched. Dah’mir glared at him. “Earn your rescue. You carry the Mark of Finding—find me Dandra!”

Dandra was dimly aware of the corridor that Ashi ran down, twisting and turning around corners, flashing from torchlight to shadow and back to torchlight. She was somewhat more aware of the discomfort as the hunter’s shoulder dug into her belly with each swift pace. She also knew that Singe and the others weren’t with them—that while Ashi’s quick reactions might have saved the two of them, the others had been left behind to face Dah’mir’s wrath, caught by Tzaryan’s treachery. There wasn’t anything she could do about it, though. The farther they fled from Dah’mir, the more her head cleared, sloughing off the shroud of the dragon’s influence. Unfortunately, her release was Tetkashtai’s release as well.

She felt like a tiny vessel on the middle of an ocean storm as her creator raged around her.
Tetkashtai!
Dandra shouted, trying to calm her down.
Tetkashtai!

Her thoughts were butterflies to the hurricane of Tetkashtai’s terror and Dandra felt a flash of fear herself. Back in Zarash’ak, she’d told Singe that every episode of panic seemed to take the presence closer to the brink of true madness. Abandoning any effort to soothe Tetkashtai, she wrenched herself away. Or attempted to. It was like trying to rip a limb from between the teeth of a beast. Tetkashtai shrieked, dragging her back. In desperation, Dandra drew up a memory of Dah’mir—acid-green eyes shining—and flung it at her.

Tetkashtai’s screams rose and she flinched back. Dandra slammed the gates of her mind, trappping the presence outside them. Echoes of Tetkashtai’s terror rang in her ears. Dandra threw her will against them and blocked them out. For a moment, her thoughts were her own.

And she realized that Ashi’s footsteps weren’t the only ones she could hear.

Dandra raised her head and tried to look behind them. Far back, a squad of ogres swung around a corner. One—Chuut, she realized—saw them and let out a deep shout.

“Il-Yannah,” Dandra cursed. She twisted around in Ashi’s grip. “Ashi! Let me down!”

“Wait.” Dandra whirled in the air as Ashi slid around another corner—

—and came to a sharp stop.
“Rond betch!”
she spat and swung Dandra off her shoulder. Dandra turned around and stared.

The passage continued on but the torches they had followed were gone. The corridor ahead was pitch dark. To their right, stairs plunged down into darkness as well. To their left, a stout door stood closed. Ashi snarled and whirled, staring at their options with wild eyes. “We can’t go on. Even if we had a torch, the ogres would see the light!”

Dandra spun to the door, reaching for the handle. There was no way of knowing what lay beyond it, but at least it was a hiding place—but if the ogres
didn’t
see a light retreating down either the darkened hallway or the stairs, wouldn’t the door be the first place they’d look? Her hand dropped. She turned back to Ashi. A glance at the hunter’s face told her that she had realized the same thing.

Ashi had her spear clutched in her hand. She thrust it at her and Dandra took it, raising her chin in determination. Ashi bared her teeth and drew her sword, the bright blade shining in the dim light. Neither of them said anything. The pounding footsteps of their pursuers closed in. Dandra moved to face the turn in the corridor, stepping up onto the air and skimming the ground, ready to fight. Raising a hand, she reached into herself to call up the fierce energy of whitefire. The first ogre around the corner was going to burn.

Instead of whitefire’s droning chorus, all that filled her was Tetkashtai’s mad terror. It lanced through her, tearing a gasp from her throat as she fought it back. She stumbled, her feet dropping hard to the ground. Ashi’s hand whipped out and caught her before she could fall.

“Dandra!”

Dandra shook her head, struggling to clear her mind. “It’s Tetkashtai!” She tried to summon the concentration to lift herself off the ground once more, but the presence was like a drowning person, dragging on her mind. Dandra beat her back, but yellow-green light seemed to force itself into the corners of her
eyes. Through the glare, she saw Ashi swing toward the sound of the approaching ogres like a cornered animal.

To their side, the door that they had seen and rejected as a hiding place swung open. Ekhaas leaned out through the door frame, gesturing for them. “Inside! Quickly!”

Ashi snarled, but Dandra shoved her toward the door. She felt no trust for the hobgoblin, but Ekhaas was no friend to the treacherous Tzaryan Rrac—and if Robrand was right, at least Geth had found some reason to set her free. “In!”

“The ogres will look in here!” the hunter said.

“No, they won’t.” Ekhaas reached out and grabbed her arm, hauling her through the door. Dandra slipped through on her heels. The hobgoblin held the door open for a moment longer. Her free hand gestured and Dandra caught a snatch of deep, swelling song. Two flickering lights flared over her palm. With a quick motion, Ekhaas hurled them into the darkness of the hallway, then pulled the door almost shut, leaving it open just enough to peer out. Through that thin crack, Dandra could just see Ekhaas’s lights receeding down the dark passage—exactly like torches carried by running fugitives.

The sound of heavy footsteps and ogre voices filled the corridor outside. Dandra heard Chuut give another shout and order the ogres onward. In moments, their pursuers had hurtled past them.

“Quickly,” said Ekhaas. “We don’t have much time. The lights won’t last long. Down the stairs. Take my hand and I’ll guide you.” She pushed the door wide, then reached back and grabbed something from the shadows. The dim light in the hallway struck flashes of purple from a heavy byeshk sword. Geth’s sword.

Fear and anger rose in Dandra’s throat. Her spear darted forward, point quivering a finger’s width from Ekhaas’s side. “What’s going on here?” Dandra hissed. “Where’s Geth? The General said he and you fled together!”

Ekhaas didn’t move, though her yellow eyes narrowed and her ears twitched back. “The General lies. Geth is in Tzaryan’s dungeon—with Lor.”

Dandra blinked. Ekhaas’s breath hissed. She pushed Dandra’s spear away, then stretched out her hand. Out of sight down the corridor, ogre voices rose in confusion. Ekhaas’s ears flicked.
“Decide! Geth is in danger. You have my word on that.”

Dandra glanced at Ashi. The hunter’s eyes were hard and suspicious, but she nodded. Dandra clenched her teeth and took Ekhaas’s hand. “We’re all in danger.”

“Be silent until I tell you it’s safe.” Ekhaas led them—Dandra’s hand in hers, Ashi’s hand on the shaft of Dandra’s spear—across the corridor and down the stairs. The light of the hallway vanished. In the dark, the oversized steps of the stairs were even more treacherous, but Ekhaas descended with rapid urgency. They reached the bottom just as the sound of Chuut and his ogres echoed again along the corridor above. Ekhaas shoved Dandra and Ashi back against a wall and let go off Dandra’s hand. Once again, the hobgoblin sang and two more tongues of flame, identical to the first two, appeared above her palm. This time, however, the flick of Ekhaas’s hand left them hanging in the air at the bottom of the stairs. Dandra choked back a curse. Ekhaas was going to draw the ogres right to them!

Up above, harsh words became excited at the sight of the flames below. Footsteps started down the stairs—only to stop at a command from Chuut. An argument erupted, then ended with the sound of a closed fist on a thick skull. Chuut growled another command and heavy footsteps charged away, back along the corridor in the direction they had all first come.

In the lights of the flames, Dandra could see Ekhaas’s face. Her ears stood high and she looked pleased with herself. From behind Dandra, Ashi said softly, “Are you mad? You almost brought them right after us!”

Ekhaas gave a disdainful snort. “You don’t speak their language, do you? For an ogre, Chuut is smart—but not that smart. I knew he’d think the lights were just another distraction. We’re safe for now.”

“If we’re safe,” Dandra said, “I want an explanation now. What’s going on?”

“Listen while we move.” Ekhaas moved away from the wall and started along the lower hallway. The dancing lights she had brought into being moved with her, forcing Dandra and Ashi to stay with her as well or be left behind in the dark.

By the smell in the air, Dandra could tell that they were back in the hallway that led to the ogre barracks. She tried to keep her eyes
and ears on the shadows ahead, but as Ekhaas swiftly told them what had happened in the dungeon—of Vennet’s sudden appearance and Geth’s attempt to warn them, of Robrand’s treachery—she found all of her attention on the hobgoblin. Ekhaas’s story left her with a sickening hollow in her stomach.