The Skeleton King (The Silk & Steel Saga) (49 page)

64

Katherine

The fighting was fierce, a brutal
plod through the cobblestone streets. The Dark Citadel proved a stone beehive
full of stinging traps. Each level was guarded by a gate and each gate marked a
different battle, a logjam of death, yet the fighting never seemed to end.

Corpses littered the street, the
dead mingled with the dying. They left a bloody trail behind them, racing the ever-tightening
death spiral toward the clouds. Resistance stiffened as they neared the top.
Kath supposed the wealthy had more to lose but she refused to be bogged down in
a siege. Urging her men forward, she used her magic to take most of the gates,
but each level grew harder, weariness sapping her strength.

The numbers of her army waxed and waned
with each spiral. Painted warriors fell in battle and brown-robed citizens
emerged from houses to take up their swords. Kath led a wild-eyed swarm of
tattooed warriors and starving urchins bent on vengeance. Her makeshift army
stormed ever upward like a force of nature refusing to be denied. They showed
no mercy. Even if she wanted to, Kath could not have stopped them. Every priest
was doomed to death, torn to shreds by the mob, their grisly heads mounted on
pikes like war trophies. Kath assumed they’d earned their fate, that evil begat
evil, but the gory heads seemed like an ill omen, a barbarous act mocking the
goodwill of the gods. She sent a swift prayer to Valin, hoping she never lost
his favor.

Dawn streaked the eastern sky and
still they fought.

Weariness assaulted her. Exhaustion
became a second enemy, yet they dared not stop lest the soldiers regroup. Tired
beyond the telling, Kath rounded the final bend, shocked to realize they’d
reached the last gate. “Of course it’s gold.” Tall and imposing, the golden
gates portrayed scenes of evil, cities destroyed, people enslaved, a fitting
entrance to the palace of the Mordant.

Beside her, Blaine leaned on his blue sword, blood spatters
marring his silver surcoat. “Can you?”

Kath shook her head. Countless
passages through the dark walls had taken their toll. “I dare not, not without
rest. My magic is spent. If I enter the wall I will not leave it.”

Blaine nodded. “Then we’ll do it the old
fashioned way.” He raised his voice in command. “Bring the ram!”

A dozen burly warriors carried the crossbeam
from the last gate. The massive beam served as a makeshift ram. Her painted
warriors raised scavenged shields above the ram, forming a protective shell of
gold and black. Like an armored turtle, the ram bore down on the golden gate.
Spears and crossbow bolts rained death from the wall but they could not slow
the turtle. Bristling with feathered bolts, the ram barreled toward the gate.

Beside her, Blaine whispered, “Almost there!”

But the sense of victory eluded
her.

Once, twice, thrice, the ram
knocked against the golden gates. A great boom echoed through the street. And
then the ram broke through. The golden doors buckled and broke. The way was
open. They’d breached the last tier, reaching the palace of the Mordant.

A great cheer swept through her
army. With a roar, they rushed forward, eager to claim the ultimate prize, but
Kath entered with dread, all of her nightmares crowding close.

The gates opened onto a vast
circular courtyard. A
royal palace
dominated the far side, like nothing Kath had ever seen. Gilded steps led to a
great crescent-shaped palace adorned with golden columns and black marble.
Grand and imposing, it reeked of power and opulence. Kath wondered what horrors
lurked within.

Steel clanged against steel. Small battles raged across the courtyard,
pockets of guards making a desperate stand, but they were soon cut down. Her
army swept across the yard like a tidal wave, an unstoppable force bent on
victory.

Kath followed at a measured pace, her sword in her hand, Bear and Boar at
her back. And then she noticed the detail beneath her feet. Dark runes marred
the silvery granite. Carved from black marble and inset in gray granite, the
runes spiraled inward toward the courtyard’s heart, like a trail of dark magic,
a curse writ in stone. The runes seemed to writhe with evil, daring her to read
them, a dark incantation waiting to be woken. She followed the runes, drawn
toward the center. At the heart of the runic spiral, the peak of a dark monolith
thrust up through the courtyard like a primal force. And on the side of that
monolith was a doorway, a dark cleft in the stone.

Kath shuddered in fear. She’d seen that doorway in the worst of her
nightmares. It called to her like a fate that could not be escaped.

She crossed the courtyard, oblivious to the fighting.

A wounded soldier reared up in her path, a sword in his hand, an ugly
leer on his face. “You’re mine, witch.”

“
Svala!”
Bear leaped in front, crossing swords with the soldier.

A hand grabbed her ankle, but Boar attacked, severing the grip.

Swords clashed across the courtyard, yet she did not care. Kath walked
passed, drawn toward the doorway. She entered the cleft, a chill spearing her
soul. Steep stairs spiraled down, torches lining the rough-hewn walls. The very
air reeked of evil.

Blaine
called to her, but she did not answer.

She took the stairs two at a time. Cold and dank, the shadows flitted
around her like swarms of bats. Sensing steel would be of little use; she
sheathed her sword and reached for the amber pyramid. Light glowed in her mind
like a shield. Down and around, the stairs delved deep, as if she descended to
the very pits of hell.
Even the air tried to strangle her, so thick with
evil she nearly choked. Fighting her own dread, she raced down the steps,
desperate to prove her nightmares wrong.

Footsteps followed behind, a fading
echo. Friend or foe she did not know, but she could not wait. A bonfire of urgency
burned through her blood. Kath raced the darkness into the depths.

Down and around she followed the
last spiral, and then the stairs opened to a small chamber. A massive copper
door blocked the way. Two guards startled alert. Bristling with spears, they
leaped toward her. But Kath never slowed. She reached for her axes, two whirls
of death. The guards died where they stood, clattering to the stone floor.

Kath stood before the Door.

Incised with runes, the great
copper door was green with age. Round like a portal, it reeked of time and
death and evil, a prelude to nightmares. Kath gripped the amber pyramid,
wondering if she dared even touch the rune-covered copper.

The Door shuddered open.

Moving of its own accord, it gaped
like an invitation…or the maw of a trap. A rotting stench poured out, the smell
of sulphur and blood and death, a taunt of fear. Kath whispered a prayer to
Valin and then plunged through the Door.

She entered a cavern carved from
nightmares. Red stalactites hung from the vaulted ceiling like drops of frozen blood.
Braziers belched flames, tongues of fire licking the ceiling. Shadows capered
across the cavern walls. And there, at the heart of the chamber, chained to the
floor like an offering…
Duncan
!

“No!”
The scream tore from
her heart.
“Not you!”

He lifted his head. “Kath?”

She raced toward him, kneeling by
his side, overcome by the sight of his broken body. “What have they done to
you?”

Fear shimmered in his eyes. “Are
you real or an illusion come to tempt me?”

She touched his face, covering his
mouth with a kiss. “I’m real, beloved.”

He gasped, staring up at her, as if
drinking in her face. “I knew you’d come.” Love shown from his eyes, tearing at
her heart.

She longed to take him in her arms
and hold him close, to feel his heart beating against hers, but oh the daggers.
Pierced by a hundred silver knives, they’d ruined his magnificent body. She
shuddered to think of the pain, wondering that he still lived. “We need to get
you out of here.”

Words tumbled out of him, full of
urgency. “I never told him about you. He does not know what you carry. Your
secret is safe and so is Danya.”

“Later, tell me later, but first
your chains.”

Fear flickered across his face. He
threw a glance toward the ceiling. “Beware, the shadows listen.”

She followed his gaze and saw it
was true. Shadows broiled across the ceiling, taking sinister shapes. Horns and
tails, claws and faces, the shadows took the form of demons, staring down at
her like a ravenous horde of nightmares. A sibilant hiss whispered through the
cavern. “
Give us the Quickner! The power
is ours!”
Shadowy claws stretched towards her.

Kath ducked away.
 

Duncan convulsed in pain. “It’s a trap! You
must go!”

“Not without you!” She tugged on
his chains, desperate to free him, but he was bound tight. Drawing her sword,
she attacked his shackles. Steel clanged against steel, drawing sparks, but the
shackles did not break. Desperation lent her strength. Again and again, she
struck with all her might, but the sword did no damage, as if the dark metal
was spelled against harm. Kath sobbed, “It won’t break!” She clawed at the
chain, frantic to win his freedom.

The shadows grew bold, darting
toward her. “
Give us the Quickner!”

Huddled on the floor, she slashed
at them with her sword, but steel could not pierce shadows. Her hand crept to
the crystal dagger, but a sixth sense warned her to keep it hidden.

Emboldened, the shadows grew close.

Duncan yelled, “
Run! You must run!”

And then Blaine appeared in the doorway. Like a hero
of old, his silver surcoat shimmered in the torchlight, his sapphire sword in
his hand.

The shadows shrieked, retreating to
the stalactites.

“
Blaine
! Your sword!”

Her command conquered his shock. Blaine rushed forward, lifting
his sword in a two handed grip. He struck at Duncan’s shackles. Sparks flew and metal screamed. Blue steel
blazed bright like a sword of legend. Once, twice, and the dark metal
shattered, releasing the first shackle.

Shadows broiled overhead, a flock
of angry demons.

Blaine attacked the second shackle.

Duncan howled in pain, his face contorted
like a thing possessed. “
He’s come! The Mordant comes! Don’t let him see
you!”

Fear pulsed through the chamber.

The shadows gibbered overhead, dark
claws reaching down like a flock of starving vultures.

Kath stared at Blaine. “Get him free! No matter what
happens, get him out of here!”

Blaine struck a mighty blow and the second
shackle crumbled to dust.

Duncan writhed against the floor, his face a
mask of pain, his mismatched eyes clouding with an inky Darkness. “
He comes!
Get back!”

The force of his warning drove Kath
backwards, deeper into the chamber. She crouched on the floor, willing Blaine to hurry.

Blaine leaped to the third set of shackles,
his blue sword flashing against the darkness. Metal screeched as if in pain and
the third shackle sundered.

Overhead, the shadows
laughed.

Duncan convulsed on the floor. His back
arched, his mouth stretched impossibly wide, as if he swallowed darkness. And
then his voice changed. Another voice, deeper and full of malice, filled the
cavern. “
I see you, knight of the Octagon!”

Blaine froze, his blue sword held poised
above his head.

Kath gaped, knowing she heard the
voice of the Mordant.

“You breach my citadel but the
prize is hollow. The battle for the south is already lost. The Octagon is
broken, scattered before my army. And your king lies dead, spitted upon my
sword.”

Father!
Kath stifled a
whimper, a splinter of pain piercing her heart.

“
You come here at the bidding of
the Kiralynn monks. Yet you follow a doomed cause. They have deceived you. The
monks will fail, condemned to a terrible end just like the Octagon. I alone
will rule all of Erdhe.”

 
Kath’s hand crept toward the crystal
dagger…but this was Duncan
not the Mordant. Yet what if this was her one chance to slay evil? A chance to
defeat the Mordant within his very lair? But her heart cried against it, she
could not harm Duncan.

“I alone am the one true power
of Erdhe.”
The Mordant’s voice boomed through the chamber, full of dark
seduction. “
Serve me and you shall live. Kneel to me and I will raise you
up, granting you powers you cannot imagine!”

Kath stared at Blaine willing him to strike, but the knight
remained still as stone, an odd look on his face.

The Mordant’s voice grew in
strength. “
Swear your sword to me and you will have more than one lifetime
of pleasure! Kneel to me and become much more than a base-born knight!”

Blaine shuddered, as if released from a
spell. “
No! Never!”
His blue sword struck true. Sparks flew and the dark metal shattered. The
last chain broke into a thousand pieces.

“You’ve
failed, knight. Remove him and he dies! He’s mine or nothing!”

Blaine yelled, “Go to hell!”

“Then feel my wrath!”

Tremors shook the cavern. The earth
began to shudder and shake, as if a slumbering dragon sought to emerge. Shadows
gibbered across the ceiling, claws and fangs reaching down. Stalactites crashed
to the floor, hurled like stone spears. Blaine
stumbled and fell, a sheen of blood on his forehead. Kath lurched forward,
desperate to reach Duncan.

Something grabbed Kath’s hair,
yanking her back.