Lament (Scars of the Sundering Book 2) Read online

  Scars of the Sundering

  Book 2

  Lament

  Hans Cummings

  Chapter 1

  A chilly blast of air greeted Pancras as he opened the doors that led to the walkway. The waning twin moons of Calliome, the King and Queen, hung low in the sky, their soft light reflecting off the snow-covered Almerian rooftops. The minotaur scanned to the left and right. Seeing the arcade empty, he gave the all clear.

  The three draks and the dwarf followed him as they made their way toward the main hall. Sneaking out in the middle of the night was Kali’s idea. She assured them she knew the way through the palace’s undercroft into the catacombs and from there into the city. By the time Princess Valene and Lady Milena awakened the next morning and noticed their absence, they would be miles away from the city.

  Assuming they successfully avoided the Royal Guards.

  Almeria should have provided them a safe shelter from the harsh winter. It should have been a place in which to lie low and keep warm for several months. The luck of Dolios had not been with them however, and they found rampant political corruption in the city. Still, they might have ignored it had they not been pulled into the affairs of the prince and learned of noblemen using slave labor in salt mines. While Pancras believed the princess would keep her word and allow them to leave in peace, he didn’t want to take any chances.

  Delilah took point as they descended the stairs leading to the main hall. She pointed her staff at the floor. As the eyes of the rodent skull atop her focus glowed blue, she whispered an incantation, “Kalee’steen enoch leetiké goyna.”

  A dozen boggins materialized and scampered into the main hall, yipping and gnashing their teeth. Were it not for the armored greaves worn by all the Royal Guards, Pancras would not have agreed to loosing the furry balls of teeth and hunger in the palace. He hoped their steel armor would be up to the challenge of boggin teeth.

  Each downward step sent a new wave of pain into Pancras’s leg. Even a day off it would help the wound he incurred the previous morning, but there was no time for healing if they wanted to leave the city before the real fallout from Princess Valene’s coup began.

  Once the shouts of alarm and clanks of running armored guards receded, the minotaur led the group across the main hall. They crossed without being spotted, and, as usual, found the door to the undercroft unguarded.

  Kali chuckled as Kale pulled out his tools and set to work picking the lock. “They never guard the rooms where they store all their junk.”

  “Dwarves do.” Edric grunted as he kept watch around the corner for patrolling guards.

  “Dwarves post guards to their privies.” Kali snorted. A click from the lock heralded Kale’s success.

  “Yeah, well, some of those nobles crap gold, you know.”

  “Enough.” The minotaur ushered the draks through the door and snapped his fingers to attract Edric’s attention. The dwarf trotted over and pulled the door closed after he passed through it.

  Kale locked it behind them. “That should slow them down.”

  The glow from Delilah’s staff illuminated the dusty, crate-filled alcoves. Deep shadows hid the tops of the arches that supported the ceiling, creating the illusion that the room was larger than it was. They heard distant shouts and the sounds of scuffling through the ceiling as guards chased down Delilah’s boggins. The commotion above them caused a fine rain of dust to drift down from the ceiling, hanging in the air like faerie glitter.

  “I don’t suppose you can banish the boggins you summoned now that we no longer need the distraction?” Pancras followed the path in the dusty floor caused by Kale and Delilah’s repeated trips to the catacombs some weeks earlier.

  “Oh, probably.” Delilah shrugged and pointed toward the door that led to the catacombs. Crossing it was a new wrought-iron barricade bolt, no doubt intended to keep hostile creatures out of the palace. “I never learned how to do that, though.”

  The minotaur pursed his lips as he lifted the barricade out of the way. “You might look into that. I’m not keen on leaving a bunch of angry, hungry boggins for others to deal with.”

  Delilah ducked under his arm as he opened the door. “I won’t learn it in time to help here, so don’t worry about it. You thought it was a good idea when I suggested it.”

  “We need to learn some illusions.” Pancras waited for Kali, Kale, and Edric to pass before closing the door. He couldn’t replace the barricade bar from the catacomb side, a typical limitation of such crude door-barring methods.

  “Wait…” Kali held up her hand.

  “What?” Kale placed his hand on her shoulder to keep from bumping into her.

  “I thought I heard something.”

  Pancras cocked his head. As if that’s going to help. He held his breath as he strained to hear anything more than Edric’s heavy breathing and the commotion still audible from the palace guards chasing boggins.

  He ran his hand down the cold, stone catacomb wall. “Close walls like these cause strange echoes. Could it have been noise from the palace?”

  Kali glanced up at him. The orange-scaled drak wrinkled her nose and shrugged. “Yeah, it’s probably nothing.” She patted Kale’s hand. “Let’s go. The way I got in should still be open. It’ll be tight for the minotaur, but I think he’ll make it.”

  The thought of squeezing into an even tighter space pained Pancras. He stooped to keep his horns from scraping the top of the tunnel. Their packs made the catacomb passageways seem even more cramped. If anyone were down here with them, they would surely be alerted to the presence of Pancras and his companions by the scraping of their packs against the walls.

  “All those ghosts and whatnot you draks riled up a few weeks ago are gone, yeah?” Edric gripped the haft of his axe with white-knuckled fingers. He peeked around a corner, jumping as Pancras brushed past him.

  “I can handle anything down here, Edric.” Pancras held aloft his focus, creating light with the same incantation Delilah used. Pulling Kali to the front of the pack with him, he led the way. He took note of the various twists and turns of the catacombs. One gift bestowed by the gods to his people was the ability to unerringly navigate labyrinths, and the layout of the catacombs was more straightforward than the labyrinths minotaurs occupied in Drak-Anor. He still needed a guide to show him the correct way to their destination; however, he would remember the way back should they need to retreat.

  “Shh!” Kali held up a clawed hand to silence the whispered bickering of the drak twins. “I hear it again.”

  Pancras heard it, too: the sound of voices echoing off the stone walls of the catacombs. It was impossible to pinpoint its origin, but the minotaur was certain what he heard was not the echoes of Kale and Delilah’s discussion. The source of the noise drew closer and became more distinct. He identified three voices and turned toward Edric.

  “Are dwarves good at locating the sources of sounds underground?”

  The dwarf snorted and tugged at his beard. “Maybe some, but not me.”

  Pancras shook his head and proceeded down the corridor with caution. It figures I’d travel with the only dwarf who is terrible at being a dwarf.

  * * *

  “Kale and I will scout ahead.” Kali grabbed Kale’s hand. “Don’t follow us too closely.”

  Kale shuffled along behind the female drak and withdrew his hand from her grip. He drew his daggers as they ducked around a corner, finding it difficult to determine the difference between the sounds of his friends behind him and the others in the catacombs. One thing was certain: the sounds from those who were not his friends grew louder.

  The stone walls and bone-filled niches of the labyrinthine cata
combs couched their secrets in cobwebs and shadow. Kale peered into each alcove as they passed, hoping to see some sort of treasure unneeded by the catacomb's long-dead occupants.

  Kali held out a clawed hand and then placed it on his chest when Kale continued to shuffle forward, oblivious to the intent of her gesture. She held a finger up to her lips and then grabbed his arm as she pulled him into one of the compartments.

  The others were close. He heard them clearly now, their voices rising above the scraping of leather on stone and the clink of metal against metal.

  “Are you sure this is the way?” The voice sounded familiar to Kale, but he couldn’t place it.

  “Of course not, Highness. I know the draks used these tunnels to enter my mine, so there’s no reason we cannot escape your palace by the same route.”

  “I shouldn’t have to escape from my own damned palace. We’re coming back soon, Reznik, to deal with that woman and the rest of the traitors.”

  Reznik and Gavril! Kale didn’t take the time to wonder how the men gained entry to the catacombs. The former mine owner and the former prince didn’t seem terribly close during the trial, but Kale was not good at deciphering human body language.

  Kali placed her arm across his chest to restrain him as the two men walked past the niche they occupied. Although they glanced quickly at each alcove, they did not linger long enough to detect the draks hiding in the shadows. Several men garbed in chain shirts and armed with crossbows followed.

  Once the humans passed them, Kali released Kale. He crept forward, daggers ready, and peered around the corner. The men stopped at an intersection, whispered, and pointed, clearly disagreeing about which direction they should go.

  “They’re going to run right into Pancras and the others,” Kali hissed in Kale’s ear.

  Kale nodded and glanced in the direction they came. It seemed clear. “We should lead them away.” He pulled a clay pot out of one of the niches and let it crash to the floor, sending hundreds of razor-sharp shards into the pathway.

  As they heard the cries of alarm from the humans behind them, the two draks took off. Kali shouted directions as they ran. I hope we don’t end up lost down here.

  The draks skidded around a corner, claws scraping on the stone floor, and found themselves facing a door. Kali cursed, and Kale whipped out his tools as he examined the locking mechanism.

  “Hurry, Kale!”

  Kale poked at the lock with a probe. It was an older-style lock, but it was more complex than most of the mechanisms he encountered in Almeria’s palace during their stay there. Furthermore, his initial examination revealed that the lock was corroded and would not be easily coaxed into unlocking.

  Behind him, he heard a metallic twang, and a crossbow bolt embedded itself in the door next to his cheek.

  “Time’s up, little draks.”

  * * *

  “I heard it that time.” Delilah cocked her head toward the commotion.

  “The dead could have heard that.” Edric picked his teeth with a fingernail as he leaned against the wall.

  The drak sorceress eyed Pancras. The minotaur stepped forward, peeked around the corner, and then returned to the group. “The way is clear now, but I don’t seen Kale or Kali.”

  “Pah! We’ll be wandering down here for days without our guide.” Edric spat on the floor.

  “We’ll not become lost, but I don’t know the way out.” Pancras crept forward, tracing Kale and Kali’s path and motioning for them to follow.

  Delilah was confident in the minotaur’s ability to keep his bearings in the catacombs, but she did not relish the idea of being stuck surrounded by dead bones for any longer than required.

  The echoes of the disturbance nearby made it difficult to determine if they were headed toward or away from it. The drak sorceress dragged a claw along the wall as they walked, digging a gouge so she would detect if they doubled-back along the same passageways or became separated from Pancras.

  Pancras held up his hand and turned to face his entourage. “I can hear them just up ahead. They’ve cornered Kale and Kali. Ready yourselves.”

  The drak sorceress tightened her grip on her staff. With her brother behind the humans, she contemplated what spell to use that wouldn’t endanger him. The humans ahead made no effort to be quiet.

  “Where’s the minotaur, Drak?”

  Delilah recognized the voice of the former Prince of Almeria, Gavril. Pancras slipped his new rod from his belt. It glowed with emerald light as he stepped around the corner.

  “Right behind you, Gavril.”

  “Kaléste gi stoicheiaki.” Delilah concentrated on the stone surface behind Pancras as coils of azure aether swirled forth from the top of her staff. A rocky fist punched its way through the floor, and then another. She stepped out from behind the corner and observed Gavril and his cronies level their weapons at Pancras. Kale and Kali crouched behind them, their backs against a door.

  The rock creature pulled itself out of the floor, leaving a collapsed, sunken depression of stone and dirt in its wake. Gavril’s eyes widened, and he stepped backward as the creature advanced. The former prince’s lackeys shuffled and glanced at each other. Among them, Delilah spotted the slight man who once controlled Almeria’s largest salt mine, Reznik.

  “Looks like we’re both trying to slink away in the night, Gavril.” The minotaur crossed his chest with his arms.

  “You see, Reznik?” Gavril glanced over his shoulder at the balding man. “Princess Bitch has turned on him, too.” He drew a short, broad-bladed sword. “Fear not. The pain of her betrayal will be over quickly. Kill them all.”

  Gavril’s men yelled and charged.

  Edric charged forward to meet them, axe raised. The dwarf slashed at the legs of the nearest guard as a ray of emerald energy shot over his head. The ray struck the man in the chest, and his face grew ashen and withered. He collapsed, gasping and howling in pain.

  Delilah’s rock creature waded into the crowd, its rocky fists smashing men as if pounding wooden pegs into the dirt. She scrambled backward as Pancras moved between her and a charging Gavril.

  She directed the creature to clear a path to Kale and Kali, keeping an eye on any humans intent on making her a target. Controlling the rock creature required more concentration than Delilah expected. She was linked to its mind, such as it was, and she understood it wanted nothing more than to pulverize everything and everyone in its vicinity, her friends included. Even a momentary lapse to defend herself might cause it to smash one of her allies.

  * * *

  Pancras resisted the urge to marvel at the rock creature pounding its way through Gavril’s men. What else has Delilah learned this winter? He heard of such conjurations, of course, but never witnessed them in action. As the former prince approached, Pancras cut his ruminations short.

  “I’ll gut you this time, Necromancer.”

  The minotaur ignored the taunt. Raising his rod, he jumped to the side as a flicker of motion in his periphery foretold an attack on his flank by Reznik. He ducked under a guard sent flying over his head by the mighty fists of the rock creature Delilah controlled. The man hit the wall with a crunch and slid down to rest motionless on the floor. Reznik and Gavril lunged at Pancras.

  “Skia veema.” The multitude of shadows swallowed him, and the minotaur stepped out of an alcove further down the hall. He leveled his rod at Reznik. “Klepstee dynami tis zois.”

  A verdant ray struck the wiry man in the face. His hair whitened, and his eyes became cloudy as his skin dried up and withered. He let out a strangled cry, falling backward and clutching at his aged face. Backing into a guard, he tripped the man and provided Kali an opportunity to leap upon them, stabbing with her daggers until they both lay in pools of blood.

  Gavril kicked Reznik’s legs out of the way and advanced on Pancras, his eyes burning with rage. The minotaur’s wounded leg ached, and he realized he would not be able to evade the murderous human forever. “Angigma tou tafou!”

  The
former prince dove forward, ducking under the green ray. It struck one of the guards instead, and the man screamed as ghostly hands grasped at him from the floor and walls, holding him in place as Kale ran by him, slashing at his legs.

  Pancras kicked, connecting with Gavril’s face as the human rose in front of him. Gavril stumbled back and spat a gobbet of blood onto the floor. He growled and lunged again.

  “Skia—” Gavril’s blade caught the minotaur’s side before he finished the spell. He brought his head down and butted the human. Gavril fell backward, reaching out and grabbing the front of Pancras’s robe. The human’s weight jerked Pancras forward, wrenching his wounded leg.

  Pancras gasped in pain and cried out as a sharp fire bloomed in his gut. He tipped his head and noticed Gavril’s sword protruding from his belly. The human grimaced with bloody teeth as he twisted the blade. Pancras’s legs became numb and buckled under him.

  Gavril held his grip on Pancras’s robe as the minotaur succumbed, using the necromancer’s weight as a lever to right himself. Pancras heard Kale cry his name. The human stood over Pancras and with a spray of crimson, yanked his sword from his stomach. The former sovereign then fell forward, plunging the blade between the minotaur’s ribs and into his chest.

  Kale and Kali assaulted Gavril, knocking him off Pancras as they screamed and stabbed. The world grew dim as the minotaur’s sight failed him. Delilah called his name, and he felt a burst of heat just before the catacombs fell silent.

  Darkness took him.

  * * *

  “Pancras! Pancras!” Kale tripped over the bloody corpse of Gavril in his haste to reach Pancras’s side. His daggers flew from his hands and clattered across the floor. Already, the minotaur’s limbs were limp, and his blood mingled with the blood and dust on the floor. He shook Pancras and called his name, but the minotaur did not respond.

  “Don’t do this. Don’t die on us!” Delilah knelt on the other side of Pancras. A bloody gash marred her side.