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Hammer 39

  Corvan and Jorad followed Madam Toreg past the staircase leading to the upper level of the library, through an arch and out into a darkened lobby. More of the rusty lamp stands sprouted from mounds of broken tiles and the brittle remains of lumien vines hung from the eyelets overhead. Shattered statues and pieces of slender fluted columns lay scattered about the floor. The front of the building had completely collapsed.

  Moving through the maze of broken pieces, Madam Toreg led them to a stairwell that swept downward in a wide arc. At the bottom, there was only a section of a passage that ended in both directions against piles of rubble that reach all the way to the ceiling.

  It appeared to be a dead end, but Madam Toreg marched straight ahead and inserted the tip of her broken cane into a hole in the smooth rock wall. Concealed doors sprang open, revealing armed guards waiting within. A bald, stocky man rushed out and proceeded to engage Madam Toreg in a heated conversation with furious gestures toward Corvan and Jorad. His face grew redder before he finally pursed his lips, nodded to Madam Toreg in a cursory manner, then scurried back inside the guarded passage.

  Madam Toreg shook her head, turned to them with a deep frown and gestured for them to follow. Edging past the grim-faced guards, they moved together into a crevice so narrow, only one person could go through at a time. It twisted back and forth on itself like a snake with corners so sharp they had to tilt Kate’s litter up at a steep angle to get her past them. As they negotiated a particularly tight corner, Corvan glanced up and noticed there were openings in the ceiling. Shadows moved above them; they were being watched. At two places, they had to wait for matching doors to open and then shut behind them. In the short corridor between the doors, much larger holes overhead suggested that rocks or something far worse could be dropped on them at any time. He hoped the mayor was not the vindictive type, but a few furtive glances from Madam Toreg at the ceiling, didn’t reassure him.

  Once past the second set of doors, the channel entered into a wide square chamber. There were no guards in the room. Madam Toreg waited before an arched double door. As Corvan stepped beside her, she smiled at him, then pushed firmly on the doors and swung them wide.

  After what felt like weeks in near darkness, the light following past Corvan felt like it was pushing on his skin. He squinted through it to a domed ceiling, so crowded with lumien globes it was almost impossible to distinguish one from the others. Jorad twisted the litter to one side, the doors banged shut behind them, and the echo reverberated back from the far side of a large rounded cavern.

  Corvan sidled up to the low stone wall surrounding the balcony there standing on and felt Jorad do the same.

  “Welcome to our City of Refuge,” Madam Toreg said proudly as she moved up beside him. “All who seek the truth and live with compassion are welcome here.”

  Corvan leaned over the ledge for a better look. Throughout the round cavern, small, whitewashed dwellings were evenly spaced along neat terraces. The scene looked more like a photograph than something real. It was somewhat like the pictures of terraced rice paddies in his travel magazines except these circled the entire cavern to form a funnel shape. The circular pattern of the main streets was the same as Kadir but in this case the interconnecting lanes between the flat sections looped back and forth on the steep slopes, like eels slithering down to a central plaza as the bottom that was surrounded by group of larger buildings.

  “It’s beautiful,” Jorad spoke quietly from behind Corvan. “Seeing all these extra lumiens gives me hope that Kadir may again shine in all its glory.”

  Madam Toreg glanced back at the priest with a question on her face and pointed to the left, where a creek rushed along the bottom of a deep channel next to the cavern wall. “That where the water flows from under the library.” Her eyes narrowed as she looked at Jorad. “The water that was sent by the palace in Kadir. The leaders of Kadir who tried to fill our City of Refuge with water. Many of our people drowned in that attempt.” She made the special sign with her hands and the anger on her face vanished. She pointed to the left side of the lower cavern where the stream flowed into a stone lined pool. “We are ready if they try it again. Our new water channel will carry the water back to the river outlet under the lower bridge.”

  “How many people remain?” Jorad asked. “I don’t see anyone.”

  “You won’t,” she said. “The day has not yet begun, and those along our path will have been ordered by the mayor to stay indoors. For your safety as well as theirs, it is best if you pass unseen. Come, we will follow the water channel down to the pool and I will show you how to leave.”

  She led them along the topmost street at the upper edge of the cavern, just behind the outer ring of dwellings. The back yard of each contained a garden that would make his mother envious. All the rows were neatly arranged in raised beds. In some there were clusters of large yellow fruit hanging from a sturdy stone trellis. Others had a circular cascade, like a tipi with vines trailing up cords to the top of a central pole.

  A baby’s cry rose above the burble of the water running alongside the road, and a woman sang a lullaby. “Those are sounds I have not heard for a very long time,” Jorad said, his voice choking with emotion.

  Madam Toreg stopped and looked over Corvan’s shoulder at the priest. “I have heard of the great loss of your family, Jorad, and I offer my sympathy. Perhaps you should consider asking to stay here in the refuge instead of returning to Kadir.”

  Before Jorad could respond, a lonely strain of flute music drifted from around the corner. Madam Toreg whipped about then jogged quickly around the bend, her broken caned in one hand. Jorad and Corvan sprinted to catch up. Rounding the corner the found Madam Toreg with one hand on her hip, watching a small boy in ragged clothing sitting on the water channel wall. His bare feet legs kept time to the music as he blew across a set of graduated pipes. The mournful sound of its melancholy strains wrapped around them.

  “Gavyn!” Madam Toreg barked. “Come here!” Madam Toreg sounded stern, but Corvan sensed the motherly love in her voice.

  The boy, all the while playing his pipes without missing a note, jumped off the wall and landed lightly just in front of the old woman. Madam Toreg gently pushed the flute down from his lips. He smiled at her, but his deep blue eyes betrayed an abiding sadness.

  “Gavyn, did you not hear that everyone was to remain out of sight?” she asked.

  The boy shrugged, looked at the ground, and ran a hand through his wet, matted hair. There was water dripping from the cuffs of his pants.

  Jorad swiveled the pallet around and came into view alongside Corvan. He gave a soft whistle and Gavyn’s eyes brightened. He ran to hug Jorad around the waist. Jorad bent his knees slightly, and Gavyn reached into the priest’s cloak to fish out a small object wrapped in yellow paper. Jorad straightened and looked at Madam Toreg. “As priests, we must allow the little children that suffer to come to us for comfort.”

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  Madam Toreg nodded slightly but shot Gavyn a warning look that suggested he be on his way. The boy ignored her and instead walked along the litter toward Corvan. He stopped for a long moment next to Kate, his eyes moist and focused on the glow at her neck. Taking a long deep breath Gavyn then approached Corvan. He ran his hands along the side of Corvan’s cloak. Corvan tried to pull away from his probing fingers, but Jorad’s grip on the pallet restricted his movements.

  “Gavyn.” Madam Toreg stepped toward them. “I have warned you about taking things that do not belong to you.”

  The boy’s hand ran over the hammer in its holster. He stopped, then looked up at Corvan with a puzzled expression. He said nothing, but Corvan knew that the boy understood that the hammer and the medallion were now back in the Cor. Corvan wasn’t sure if Gavyn was that happy about it.

  Madam Toreg stamped her foot, and the child whirled and ran, grabbing a yellow fruit off a vine on his way over a stone wall.

  “He means no harm,” Madam Toreg said. “He lives wild, up in the ruins surrounding the library. He has found a way to come and go in our new city as he pleases. I was told he lost his family in the flood, but no one knows for sure. He has never spoken.” She turned and headed down the road. “We need to keep moving or the mayor might show up again and bring his gaurds.”

  The road grew steeper ahead, where the wall alongside was lower. The sound of the creek on the other side of it grew louder. Rounding a corner, Corvan found himself at the top of a steep flight of stairs that were slick with the spray from a series of waterfalls that plunged alongside to a turbulent pool below.

  “We have more work to do to complete the outlet channel, so these steps can get slippery. You’d best turn sideways and carry her down together.” She took two steps down and pointed ahead. “Let me go first and caress the light.”

  Madam Toreg descended the stairs and pushed a long pole up into the shadows. A large lumien hanging from a ring glowed brighter as Madam Toreg gently stroked the tendrils that hung around the globe with the soft flaps at the end of the pole. Satisfied with the level of light, she leaned the pole back against the wall and motioned for them to join her.

  Corvan and Jorad held the litter awkwardly between them and made their way to the bottom level, where large stone blocks were stacked in loose piles. A deep lagoon swirled behind a circular wall. Madam Toreg led them around to where a sluice gate allowed water from the lagoon to rush under a low opening in the cavern wall.

  Madam Toreg pointed at the tunnel while speaking, but Corvan couldn’t catch what she was saying over the sound of the rushing water. She motioned to them to wait and disappeared around the side of the lagoon. A low rumble, as if a train were passing, coursed through the rock. The water ebbed to a trickle.

  Madam Toreg reappeared. “There is not much time before I must release the water again. You can get inside the channel just ahead of the sluice gate and follow the tunnel along. You will come out directly under the lower bridge. A narrow stairway along the river wall will take you up to the roadway and onto the bridge. Jorad, you will know where to go from there.”

  Jorad spoke up. “Thank you, Madam Toreg. Your kindness will not be forgotten. We will protect the secret of your refuge and hold your well-being in good faith.”

  “I know you will, Jorad, and I thank you.” She turned to Corvan, placed a hand on either side of his face, and pulled him closer. “I understand that you must fulfill your vow to this girl, but I also ask you to do whatever is in your power to rescue the owner of the white scarf. It is important to the Cor.” She glanced over his shoulder at Jorad then whispered in his ear, “It is very important to me as well.” She pulled back. Her eyes full of tears.

  Corvan nodded quickly. “I promise, Madam Toreg. I promise on the hammer.”

  Her bushy eyebrows shot up, then she smiled. “Thank you … Cor-Van.”

  She looked again to Jorad. “Take the girl to Jokten in the Molakar settlement; his counterpart is gifted in healing, and he is the only one left with an understanding of the outer passages.” She gestured toward the empty watercourse, and then she touched Corvan’s arm. “Do not lose the medallion the girl holds. When you become the Cor-Van, you will need all three.”

  Corvan tried to respond, but she waved them on. “Move quickly now. The lagoon walls are not completed, and the water will soon overflow the gate.”

  Holding tight to the front of the litter, Corvan stepped over a gap in the wall and into a roughhewn channel. He could feel Jorad’s reluctance through the poles as the priest did the same and joined him in the tunnel. Water dripped from a ceiling that drew lower as they progressed. Corvan crouched to avoid hitting his head.

  “How much farther?” Jorad’s anxious voice reverberated past Corvan in the tight space.

  “I can’t tell,” Corvan responded. “But we need to keep moving before the water comes back and drowns us in here.”

  It was the wrong thing to say. Jorad pushed so hard on the poles that Corvan had to stumble along in his awkward stance to avoid being driven to his knees.

  Jorad’s haste was a good thing, for they’d just cleared the tunnel’s end and climbed out of the channel, when water roared from the hole they had just left and gushed out into the main river. Overhead a narrow span crossed the river.

  Corvan glanced back and found Jorad’s white face dripping with both water and sweat.

  “To the left,” the priest gasped, “up the stairs—but watch your step, I don’t want to fall in.”

  A long flight of narrow steps along the riverbank brought them up behind the low wall that kept the travelers on the main road safely away from the water. Setting Kate’s litter on the wall, they climbed onto the road. Corvan had just grabbed the poles when they heard a familiar warbling cry from the edge of the city.

  “That’s Garek and his men,” Jorad hissed. “To the bridge, quickly!”

  Kate’s body bounced on the litter as they ran forward. Ahead, the entrance to the bridge was flanked by two large stone pillars supporting the main bridge cables that reached out to the far side.

  A shadow moved out to meet them, and Garek waved them on.

  There was urgency in the grey man’s voice. “Quickly, run across. The bridge will shake, but I promise you it will not fall. Do not stop.” He pushed Corvan past him onto a metal suspension bridge that curved gently upward toward the center. The metal panels of its floor snapped and sprang as they ran. They were nearly to the middle when a trumpet blast rolled out over the water.

  “Stop in the name of the Chief Watcher!” A deep voice boomed out.

  They kept running over the center of the bridge, its panels slipping beneath their feet and pitching them toward the chain railings.

  “Stop, Kalian!” The rasping voice crawled up Corvan’s spine and into his head. How did the seeker know his name? “Stop in the name of the Rakash.”

  Something moved in the shadows ahead. The bridge pitched and rolled beneath their feet as they staggered off the end. Another of the grey men stepped out to steady them and urge them onto the river road.

  Corvan looked back. Two red-cloaked guards had reached the crest of the bridge, and the ghostly form of the Seeker was just behind them. At the apex of the bridge, the guards slowed as the shifting panels below their feet threw them from side to side. The Seeker staggered against the chains.

  Garek threw his weight off to one side of the supporting pillar and in an instant the soldier and the seeker disappeared along with the center section of the bridge.

  The screams from the soldiers lasted only a second before being silenced by the rushing water.

  Jorad spoke into the heavy silence. “Did they all . . . ?”

  “Yes,” the grey man next to him replied.

  “Including the Seeker?” Jorad asked.

  “Gone into the water. May it sweep him into the abyss.” The grey man slipped away into the gloom.

  A light push on the poles of the litter was all Corvan needed to get him moving again. For a time they walked in silence along the river wall but the rasping voice of the Rakash leader echoed in Corvan’s head, and he glanced down into the dark water repeatedly.

  For a brief moment, he was certain he saw a pair of white eyes moving along below the surface of the water and staring back at him.

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