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Authors: Joshua P. Simon

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BOOK: The Tower of Bashan
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The cobra reeled back, thrashing against the sides of the enclosed space. She shielded her eyes from the heat of the bright flames as the snake writhed, spreading the sticky oil across its body. It backed itself out of the tunnel and threw itself around the floor outside, head burning.

Lela’s heart raced at another brush with death. She tried to calm her breathing. The remaining oil continued to burn on the bottom half of the tunnel. The flames were low, but the oil would easily coat her clothes if she tried to go through them, just as it had the cobra’s skin.

But if I wait for them to burn out on their own, another snake could come in after me. Or worse Rondel and Andrasta might die.

She pushed her hands and feet against the sides of the tunnel as high as she could manage. Pressing her back against the ceiling, her limbs trembled. She blocked out the pain of trembling muscles and shuffled herself over the burning oil.

* * *

Rondel dove to his right. The cobra’s head struck the granite floor where he had been a second before. Andrasta stabbed the dazed creature through the eye. It knocked her back several feet before collapsing amidst a series of twitches.

“Watch out!” he yelled, as another snake crested the wall.

She spun, sword sweeping out. He turned away before the blade found its target. Another head had peeked over the top of the wall near him. His sword came down. The snake jerked away, avoiding the attack. His blade struck stone and the jolt sent lances of pain through his arm and into the wound at his side. The snake peeled off the wall and tumbled to the floor. Dozens more worked their way upward. Six dead snakes lay on the floor beside the heap.

Andrasta yelled as she stabbed another under its jaw and it fell.
Seven then.
He huffed, still feeling the effects of the spear that slashed his side.
Still too many left.

He sniffed.
What’s that smell? Smoke? Cooked flesh?

A high-pitched whistle echoed over the chamber. He searched for the sound’s origination. Lela stood by the exit, one foot in the room, one foot out. Beside her lay a burning snake.

How did she manage that?

She waved at him.

“Andrasta!” he called, slashing at a head poking over the wall.

“Busy!” she shouted back.

“Lela made it to the door.”

She glanced over and grunted. “Not bad.”

“How are we going to get there? Even if we could fit into one of those tunnels, there’s no way we could make it there in time to avoid the snakes.”

Her sword licked out at a striking cobra, causing it to rock back. She glanced over the side of the wall. “All this fighting has the bulk of the snakes pretty twisted up. We could outrun them to the door. Lela already has it open.”

Rondel ducked, then rolled as a cobra struck at him. He lashed down, cutting through an eye. The snake reared back hissing and thrashing. “And how do we climb down without the snakes killing us?”

Andrasta jammed her sword into the open mouth of cobra. Blood took to the air. She wiped her brow. “We don’t climb. Follow my lead,” she said backing up.

Realization dawned on Rondel. “Are you crazy? That’s a thirty-foot drop to solid stone!”

“I know.” She threw their last clay container over the side, disorienting the snakes near the ledge.

“I’m serious,” said Rondel. “What—”

Andrasta ran forward and jumped over the wall.

Confused snakes twisted to strike at her, getting in each other’s way. They had wrapped themselves so thoroughly that their attacks were ineffective. Andrasta used the bodies of the cobras to slow her descent, bouncing roughly against them.

Rondel’s heart sank.
You’ve got to be kidding me.

“Hurry while they’re distracted,” she yelled as the mass continued to sway toward her, shaky with the lingering smoke from the last clay container.

A small whimper passed through his lips as he raced for the edge.

I hate you so much.

CHAPTER 28

Lela slammed the door just as Andrasta yanked Rondel inside. Several thuds shook the frame as snakes banged against the wood. If she hadn’t witnessed their crazy stunt herself, she would have never believed it possible.

Of course was it any crazier than me crawling through a snake tunnel?

An image of Andrasta flying through the air like a leaping panther flashed across her mind. The warrior used the snakes as extensions of herself so that she landed with surprising grace before helping distract the cobras for Rondel to follow.

He was not nearly as graceful, striking the mass of snakes awkwardly and with much shouting before tumbling to the ground. His survival seemed more luck than the skill Andrasta showed.

Yes. What they did was much crazier. I think I’d rather take my chances in the tunnel again than to try something like that.

“I hate you. I hate you. I hate you so much. Gods, do I hate you,” said Rondel as Andrasta eased him to the floor.

“Why?”

“Seriously? Dive into a pit of giant snakes and hope the fall doesn’t kill me? That was your glorious plan? I’m not superhuman like you, you know.”

“Quit whining like a baby,” muttered Andrasta.

“Like a baby? Well excuse me if striking the ground after rolling down a bunch of snakes like that puts me in a sour mood.”

They sound like an old married couple.

“It couldn’t have been that bad. You bounced off one of the snakes.”

“Several,” chimed in Lela. They both looked at her and she shrunk back a step. “Sorry.”

“No,” said Rondel. “That’s all right. You get to make a joke at my expense because you actually had a good plan that worked without me sliding down fifty-foot serpents.”

“Enough,” snapped Andrasta. “We’ve got too much left to deal with, and this bickering isn’t going to help anything. Let me see your side.”

Rondel leaned over, wincing as he lifted his shirt.

Andrasta examined the binding. “It looks fine. The bandage kept it from re-opening.”

“Finally, some good news. Does little for my hip though. I don’t think anything is broken, but I wouldn’t be surprised if I’ve already got a bruise that goes down to my knee.”

“You should probably keep walking so it doesn’t get stiff,” said Lela. “My uncle,” she paused, a lump forming in her throat.
Gods, I didn’t expect that.
She wiped at her cheek. “He said that constant movement would prevent stiffness.”

“A smart man. He was right,” said Rondel. His voice softened. “I’m really sorry about what happened to him.”

Lela knew she should say something, but her mouth couldn’t form any words. She stared at the floor, bobbing her head.

Rondel stood and limped over to her. “You blame yourself, don’t you?”

Of course I do. How couldn’t I?

Tears fell in rivulets. “It
was
my fault. I never should have joined Beladeva. Uncle would be alive if I hadn’t. It should have been me that died instead. Or at the least I should have died afterward like they wanted.” She looked at Andrasta and turned away.

“You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do.”

“If you want to die so badly, then why have you been trying to stay alive?”

“Habit, I guess.”

“There’s more than that.”

“Because of me, Beladeva found out about your plans and forced your hand to enter the tower unprepared. I don’t want to be responsible for you two dying as well.”

“You won’t be, so stop worrying about us.” He paused. “Look, I’m not going to tell you whose fault it was that your uncle died because you’re not ready to listen. I’m also not going to talk down to you, and tell you what you should or shouldn’t be feeling.”

She snorted. “Then what are you going to tell me.”

He smiled. “Nothing.”

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in close. Instinctively, she returned the hug, buried her face into his sweaty, grime-encrusted shirt, and sobbed.

* * *

Andrasta looked on as the little girl shuddered and cried. She had wanted to tell her something comforting since their escape from the bay, but hadn’t known what to say.

Who knew that saying nothing would be the best thing?

Though Andrasta’s mother often touched her affectionately, her lack of loving contact from others, especially her father, had more repercussions than she ever realized.

I don’t even know when someone just needs to be held.

She tried to push her thoughts away. The one of her father remained. The last image she had of him, sitting in his throne room and telling her never to return, sat in her mind.

I have to get the jewel.

“All right. We’ve wasted enough time.”

Rondel turned sharply, still holding a teary-eyed Lela. He scowled.

“What?” she asked, doing her best to appear indifferent in the moment. “Like she said earlier. You need to keep moving before that hip stiffens up. Let’s go.”

Andrasta started down the corridor before Rondel could say anything. She found another skeleton with daggers protruding from its skull. She kicked it over, yanked the weapons free, and kept moving.

* * *

Since they had entered the tower, Rondel realized there were quite a few things that he never particularly cared for in life. His repulsion by things such as bugs and snakes had been magnified under the sorcerous intensity of each obstacle. The latest impediment to morph from a basic dislike to an intense hatred was stairs.

After the beetles, Rondel had winced his way up three hundred seventy-four steps. He didn’t necessarily think that would be the end of the stairs. However, he didn’t expect to see so many again so soon.

At least these went down.
A jolt ran through his hip as he slipped on the second to last step from the bottom.
Easier, but not easy.

He counted thirty-five more than what they had climbed up
. Great, we’re lower than when we started. Gods, we’re going to have to climb back up to get to where the jewel is kept. Or crawl, the way I’m feeling. Maybe the lunacy of this tower will continue and we won’t have to climb any more at all.

They came to a halt before another granite door. The only marking on the door indicated where to push in order to open it.

“Short rest?” asked Rondel.

Andrasta looked back at him. He could tell she wanted to push on. However, she dropped her pack. “Yeah. It should do us some good.”

They settled on the floor, passed around a bit of stale bread, some water, and an apple. Rondel took more of the pain medicine. Lela took a small dose as well. Afterward, he began flipping through his notes.

“Warriors dead.

Step heavy and warriors live.

Pictures tell the story.

Warriors die again if you are adaptive.”

He clicked his tongue in disgust after he finished repeating it aloud.
He really had to work hard to make that one rhyme.

“Any idea what that means?” asked Andrasta.

Rondel didn’t need to look up to know his partner was staring at him, waiting. He had read the clues of the guardian while on the stairs. He had hoped that once at the door, he would have figured out a way past the next obstacle. However, he had nothing. Based on Andrasta’s tone and Lela’s silence he felt it was safe to venture he was not alone in confusion.

“Still nothing,” he said.

“So, how long do we wait?” asked Lela.

“We don’t,” said Andrasta, standing up. She stretched.

“Is it really wise to go charging in without any idea what we’re doing?” asked Rondel.

“Is it wise to sit out here until we run out of food and water while trying to figure out something we may never get an answer to? It could be obvious once we’re inside.”

Rondel sighed. Though he knew much of Andrasta’s impatience related to obtaining the jewel itself, he did agree with her reasoning. “All right. Lead the way.”

CHAPTER 29

Night moved along slowly, the moon disappearing and reappearing behind drifting clouds. Back in the carriage alone as Gulzar guarded her from the outside, Mira watched Beladeva’s men work frantically by torchlight to figure out how to get inside the tower. Some still staggered from the aftereffects of the smoke inhalation. It didn’t matter. Even those who Mira thought an hour ago were near death, gave all they had in following Beladeva’s barked orders. Those who didn’t felt the crime lord’s wrath.

She looked away from the activity and leaned back inside the carriage. Her eyelids felt heavy. She closed them, hoping that sleep might bring her some peace, or that maybe when she opened them again, the nightmare of the last few hours would disappear.

BOOK: The Tower of Bashan
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