The List Unseen, page 26
part #4 of Second Draeken War Series
Chapter 34: The Untaken
They waited until well past midnight, and then crept from their room. Working their way through the deserted fortress Ianna used her sight to avoid detection. They reached the Machine and found the chamber dark and empty. Free of the raucous spectators the Machine sounded much louder than it had before. Grinding and spinning, its infinite deaths waited for them.
While Mazer kept watch Ianna sat in front of the Machine and slipped into her farsight. Drawing slow breaths, she kept a firm grip on her focus. Rather than scanning far into the future, she peeked into the next few hours. Mercifully, her farsight flickered only a few times but did not fracture. Lost in her magic, she watched the Machine's future.
She flinched each time she saw them die.
Sometimes they only made it a short distance, while other times they made it as high as level four. Each time an unseen trigger led to their deaths. Fifty times she saw them die . . . and then a hundred. Still she could not imagine them reaching the top. Refusing to relent she pressed on, attempting other routes. Time and again she watched her life end.
She watched Mazer cut to ribbons while she was burnt to a crisp. The next time they reached level three before a secret spider bit her. Her muscles lost their strength in seconds and Mazer couldn't get to her in time. Following that they died together when a handhold caused every grip in the area to retreat into the wall. Sheer and devoid of holds, they fell. In the next attempt Mazer lost most of his arm to a stone crusher, and then Ianna died trying to save him. Ice and sword got them after that, and then fatigue.
Each time she witnessed their deaths she had to fight her surging fear. Struggling to maintain her hope she persevered. On two occasions she saw a guard stroll through the chamber. Leaping to an alcove they huddled in the dark until he passed. Then she tried again. A pall of failure settled into her mind but she refused to yield to it.
—And then she saw it.
Utilizing the Machine against itself she saw them attain the highest door. She breathed a sigh of relief at the simple victory. Then she ran through the route again—and then again. She repeated it until it was ingrained in her memory, because once they started she would not get a chance to reassess it. With her path memorized she opened her eyes and shifted several feet to the side.
Her every sense tuned to the Machine, she waited.
Then she began to climb. Five seconds later she turned and directed Mazer's path behind her. With her gaze flickering between her magic and her normal sight, she led the way past the blades and traps of the first level. Pausing at the destroyed first door to catch her breath, she checked the catwalk behind the door. Just as she'd noticed when they had passed it the inner Machine had its own spells enchanted onto it.
To prevent anyone climbing inside and studying it—and to defend against tampering—the stairs carried a host of simple sound wards. If anyone climbed up the stairs, wailing and screaming would announce it to the entire guild. Easily interlocked, disabling one would just set the others off. It meant they couldn't ascend inside the Machine and bypass everything up to the fourth door. Ianna cast a look of longing at the empty catwalk behind the first door. Then she reached for a hold on the wall.
Because the first level had many sections disabled from the earlier attempts, it had been significantly easier. Level two was far more difficult. Relying on her magic even more, Ianna fell almost into a trance as she ascended. Blades cleaved the air a hairsbreadth from her body, darts failed to be released because she froze the mechanism, and false walls never got a chance to activate as she passed them. After twenty minutes of caution they reached the second door.
Pausing to rest and drink some water, they began to climb again before they reached the left firewall. Step by step they followed the path that she had predetermined, and kept moving through the vertical labyrinth of spikes and traps. Ever turning, the third level's grim rotation carried them to the right. Just before they reached the flames they attained level four. With the inferno close enough to smell ash they ascended to the next level. As it carried them in the opposite direction they paused to rest.
Clinging to the tiny gap between traps they sipped their water. Then she nodded at him and began to climb once more. Slowing her pace, she checked each hold before she touched it. Although it was shielded from her magical sight, the Machine could not be protected from farsight. With over three quarters of the holds leading to a painful death, her caution meant survival.
Inch by inch they worked their way up level four, but at every moment Ianna felt the urge to rush. With the flames approaching on the left Ianna used a ball of flame to kill a nest of spiders. Then she reached for the hole they had been in.
Pulling herself up she leaned back and allowed a blade to spin past her neck. She scurried upward when it was gone. Reaching the other side she twisted to avoid a nearly invisible beam of light. Despite her efforts the light cut through her sleeve and pierced her flesh as she moved too slowly.
Biting her lip against the stinging pain she forced herself to continue. Even flinching away from the cutting light would cause her to swing into a hidden barbed net. Six feet from the flames Ianna reached for a hold that activated the shifting wall. Spinning them down and away it lowered them a little, but gave them extra time to finish the climb. With the fourth door in reach, Ianna blinked the sweat from her eyes and split the wood above her to create a new hold.
Using it, she clambered past the slumbering death and reached the door's alcove. Trembling in fatigue and pain, she helped Mazer up to join her. "Twenty seconds," she gasped. Taking a swig of water, she wiped the moisture from her brow and stretched her aching arms.
He nodded and fashioned a bandage on his leg where he'd been singed. Grunting as the cloth scratched his burn, he said, "Fifty feet to go. You are doing great."
She nodded and stood, panting from the exertion to reach this far. Returning to the wall, she chose each hole and knot with care as they ascended to the fifth and final wall. With both hands grasping tiny crevasses, she felt the fourth and fifth levels twist in opposite directions—carrying her legs away from her. She squeaked as her grip loosened, but Mazer caught her legs and pushed her upward.
Propelled by his strength she reached for the next hold and pulled herself to safety. She threw a look back to thank him, but wished she hadn't. At two hundred feet off the ground her stomach wrenched at the height.
Clinging to the wall, doubt and fear assailed her as she struggled to bring her magic into focus. With every second counting she yanked Siarra to the forefront of her thoughts and reached higher. Two feet further it became evident why no one had passed level five.
Traps and mechanisms blanketed the surface ahead of them. Beams of piercing light interlaced with barbs and red hot metal walls. Increasing the difficulty, the holds and crevasses were even smaller, less frequent—and only one in every ten was safe.
Swallowing against her terror, Ianna blinked into her farsight and reached for the first trap in her way. Just as the blade sank into the wall she grasped the hold above it. Climbing past she leaned away when it protruded again—positioning her body in front of a spiked trap. A split second before it exploded into her torso, the first blade retreated and she leaned into the gap it created. Just as she moved the spikes exploded through her shadow.
She climbed past the smoking holes. Then she reached for a curving hold on a section of heated iron. With its heat radiating on her arm, she grasped the piece that was the same color as the surface—but it was only painted to be so. Using the deceptively safe knot, she ascended further and then smashed her face into the wall.
Out of the darkness above a huge blade swung behind her head. Close enough to cut stray hairs, it cleaved the air and locked out of sight. Then she yanked her face back as the wall smashed into itself, crushing the space her skull had just occupied. As it withdrew she used the retreating stone to climb higher. Then she paused to instruct Mazer.
With the wall of fire once again approaching on her right, Ianna sent a blast of air ten feet above her position. As she'd hoped it struck a trigger—and activated a section of the wall. Twisting her body to avoid being torn asunder, she felt the wall carry her upward and away from the flames—and closer to the final door. With only ten feet of space separating her from her goal, she disabled a trap with a blast of cold and inched higher.
Knowing it was the only way to go further, Ianna reached for a hold and forced her stomach as far from the wall as she could. Fire erupted on the surface between her feet and hands, scorching the air with its heat. When it evaporated into ash she scrambled upward and grasped the floor of the alcove. Piercing relief flooded her as she pulled herself up, but she didn't collapse.
Reaching down she used her magic—now shaky from overuse—to ease Mazer's path. With her aid he passed the final traps and yanked himself into the small space. Scooting as far from the drop as possible, he put his back to the door and unclenched his hands. Two hundred and fifty feet off the stone floor they gasped for breath and stared at each other.
Weak and exhausted, his smile was one of disbelief. "Well, we're alive."
"And not finished yet," she panted, forcing herself to her feet. She reached for the wall to steady herself as she nearly vomited.
"Are you alright?" He asked, rising to stand beside her.
She shook her head. "I am getting magesick." She took a deep breath to clam her heaving stomach. "I'm using too much magic."
"Can you continue?"
"I have to," she said, clenching a hand on her stomach. "Can you get the door? I know we didn't want to leave evidence of our path, but I should conserve what I can. I still have to disarm the warnings on the vault."
His look was concerned but he braced himself and again kicked the door in. Stepping through they worked their way along the twisting catwalk until they reached the spiral staircase that led upward.
Reaching the top she paused to disable the first ward. Protected by a shrieking sound spell, she altered it to be too high pitched for anyone to hear. Tightening her grip on her stomach, she moved to the next. After stopping the floor from crumbling below them, a light from piercing their bodies, and a handful of other fatal events, they finally eased the door open to the office.
Finding it dark and empty they darted to the vault door. Designed with a series of levers that had to be turned in an exact combination to open, it was relatively easy for Ianna to use her farsight and watch the levers slide into place. Just like the Machine it had been shielded from a mage's sight. With the extra exertion she almost blacked out. Breathing hard to stop the rising bile, she slid to the floor.
"Wait," she grunted as he reached for the handle. "One . . . more warning . . . to disable."
A dozen siren spells were interlocked around the vault door, and like the Machine's center staircase, could not be deactivated without tripping each another. Tasting bile, she knew that it was too late for deception. The guildmaster would know that someone had breached his vault, and if she and Mazer fled as they intended, he would no doubt come after them.
Gathering all her strength, she fought the sickness with fury. Picturing Sarow's haughty expression as he spoke to Siarra, she sheathed her arms in vengeful fire. Anger and nausea flooded her frame as she sent twelve ribbons of fire into the siren spells. Striking at the same moment, they never got a chance to voice their warning.
Her vision fading she collapsed, and nearly vomited on the guildmaster's floor. Counting each breath, she fought the urge until it had subsided enough to speak. "It's done . . . you can go in."
Gingerly he rotated the lever and swung the door open. Well oiled, the hinge's protest was no more than a whisper. Mazer then picked her up and brought her into the vault. Placing her against one wall, his eyes widened as he saw the mountains of treasure. Dwarven crafted weapons, enchanted elven jewelry, ancient artifacts, and chests of gold filled the room almost to overflowing. Jewels glittered as the light struck them, casting the room into patterns of multicolored light.
Then Mazer remembered their purpose. "What now?" he asked, licking his lips at the sight of so much wealth.
She motioned to the back of the room. "Behind the jeweled sword—," her stomach spasmed, forcing her to pause, "—is a secret lever. Pull it."
He did as requested and a false wall slid open. Behind it a small circular room came into view. Lit by a single flameless torch in the center, the walls were formed of shadowed alcoves.
Reaching for a pouch at her side, she withdrew the sphere of anti-magic and gave it to him. "Make sure you don't open it, or the amplious will flood the office with light."
He nodded and took the black vessel. "Where do I put it?"
She gestured to the dark recess that contained a short blade. "Counting from the dagger at the back, go up three and to the right two," she was forced to stop and breathe. Clenching her eyes shut, she fought the wave of nausea. "At the rear of that shelf and right against the top there should be a secret trigger. Press it and a secret compartment will open."
He followed her instructions and fumbled inside the alcove. A soft click signaled that he'd found it. Gingerly he placed the container inside. Then he closed it and returned to her. "Won't the guildmaster find it?" he asked, pulling her to her feet.
"He doesn't know it's there," she said, grimacing in pain. "Even he doesn't know all the secrets of this place."
His expression tight with worry he helped her to her feet. Closing the vault behind them, they crept through the guild's office and to the stairs of the Machine. With him supporting her they descended to the platform behind the fifth door. Looping a rope they had brought with them over the railing of the catwalk, they lowered themselves to the fourth walkway. From there they made their way back into the corridors of the thieves' guild.
Without waiting for morning they limped their way to the exit. After a quick search they found a guard in front of the entrance. Leaving her leaning against a wall Mazer knocked him out and pulled the lever that had been behind him. He returned for her as the underwater bridge clanked its way to the surface. Hastening in case anyone had heard it, they crossed the lake. Once they reached the opposite shore they lowered it behind them and disappeared into the mist.
Exhausted and sick, Ianna had no choice but to use more of her magic to escape the swamp. The first night they climbed high into a tree and slept. In the dead of night she awoke to the padding of giant paws on the lower branches. Too sick to verify it, she sensed the mass of deadly flesh seek for a way to their perch. After a terrifying few minutes a low snarl signaled that the rayth had given up. Then it evaporated into the night.
Releasing her held breathe she fell into a fitful sleep once more. Cautiously they descended in the morning. Passing the large footprints, they jumped at every sound as they worked their way due north. With Ianna vomiting at every attempt at magic, they were forced to creep their way through the bog.
Ianna lost count of how many times she sank into foul mud, or felt her skin tear on spiked vines. In a haze of exhaustion, pain, and nausea, they fought their way through the swamp for three days—until the swirling fog finally began to diminish. Feeling a relief so palpable she could taste it, Ianna stumbled to the edge of the trees and collapsed a foot from the Sea of Grass. Raising her tired gaze to the twilight expanse of green, her heart sank.
They were surrounded.
And the Hunter was among them.
Chapter 35: Betrayal
The elven soldiers stood in a half-circle, as if they had anticipated where Ianna and Mazer would exit the mist. At the center Sarow stood with a smug grin on his features. On his right the Hunter stood, his face an expressionless mask. A ranger stood on the other side, his magnificent bow held across his torso.
"Captain Riscian, Arzai, you have outdone yourselves," Sarow said.
"How did you know where we would come out?" Ianna asked, too weary to feel fear as she rose to her feet.
"Once convinced to speak, the trees of the Evermist shared some of the most interesting tales," Sarow said with a laugh. "Did you know that an elf and a red haired human joined the thieves’ guild recently? I guess they didn't last long, but if they had the guildmaster would have informed me of it. He's a good friend, you know."
"That's because worms like scum," Mazer said, his lip curling into a sneer.
Sarow's eyes narrowed and he gestured at him. A creaking of wood was the only warning, and then the limbs of a tree wrapped its branches around Mazer. Coiling tightly, it lifted his struggling form off the ground.
"What kind of friend have you chosen?" Sarow said, striding towards Ianna. "He is the most disrespectful member of either race that he claims heritage to."
"Only to those that deserve—"
Another branch wrapped around Mazer's mouth, silencing him. With a sigh, Sarow returned his gaze to Ianna. "Do you see? Such a man does not even deserve a prison cell."
"And yet he has more valor and dedication than anyone I've ever met," Ianna said.
"What has he tried to tell you?" he scoffed. "Do you believe his tales of great deeds?"
"No, Sarow. I have witnessed them."
Her weariness sapped her strength, but she remained on her feet by sheer will. She would not succumb to fatigue in front of him. Tall and proud, she faced him down until he shook his head.
"You are a fool, Ianna." For the first time he called her by name, but the coldness to his tone made if feel like a slap in the face. "And you deserve nothing less than confinement for your disrespect."
Overcome by the absurdity of his statement, she laughed. After everything she had done, all the sacrifices she had made, she couldn't believe that Sarow thought so low of her.
Anger clouded his eyes. "You dare to insult—
"I know what I deserve, mage," Ianna said, her humor evaporating into bitterness. "And yet my only reward will be to die for the people that I love."
For once Sarow was at a loss for words, his expression one of confusion as he tried to understand her meaning.
