“Place your hands on top of the wall,” the person behind Corvan commanded, shoving him tight against the rough stones. It sounded like Jorad, but he wasn’t completely certain and Corvan did as he was ordered. The sharp point pushed in harder as the person leaned against Corvan’s back, yanked up his sleeve, then pulled Morgan’s black knife from the sheath strapped to Corvan’s forearm.
Corvan turned to face a man in a green robe, the hood pulled low over his eyes. The black blade in the man’s right hand was pointed directly at Corvan’s heart. A pointed stick in the man’s left hand was tossed aside before the hood was swept back, revealing Jorad’s angry face.
“So now you are working for the Chief Watcher.” Jorad’s voice was harsh and strained. “What did his lizard promise you? What was he saying and what were you telling him?”
“I’m not working for the Chief Watcher.” Corvan protested. “You don’t understand, Jorad, this Watcher is my friend.”
The priest snorted. “The Watcher’s don’t have friends. You have been deceived, Kalian.” The blade moved up to point at Corvan’s face. “I promised the High Priest, I would train you to be a Cor-Van. Instead, you have used me to aid the Chief Watcher in his plans to wipe out all the priests,” he jabbed the knife at Corvan, “and to murder Tyreth.” Corvan leaned back, almost tumbling backwards over the low stone wall and into the river below.
Corvan dopped onto the wall to get his balance, took a deep breath, and looked up at the man. “Jorad. I was going back to Kadir to help save Tyreth. I was planning to go through the water channel to find Madam Toreg and ask her to send Garek with me. I promised Madam Toreg I would help her and that’s what I intend to do. That’s the truth.”
Jorad’s lips curled back in a snarl. “The only truth I know is that I have taken an oath to protect Tyreth at all costs. I will do anything to save her from the Watchers . . . and from those working with them.”
“I said I would help you.” Corvan push himself up from the wall and Jorad took a step back. “I promised Madam Toreg on the hammer,” Corvan said as he released it from the holster and pulled it up between them.
Jorad eyes flashed with fear and he tried to use the black knife to push the hammer away but a single pulse of blue energy slapped into the priest’s hand and sent the knife skittering across the road to the far wall near the fields.
Corvan held out the hammer. “I think this proves that I speak the truth. I’m going to save Tyreth, not kill her.”
The priest’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the blue glow. Corvan put the hammer back in the holster but in that moment palace guard jumped over the wall up along the road, raised his bow and drew back.
“Jorad, behind you!”
“No more tricks, Kalian. I am not—”
Corvan threw himself at Jorad, spinning the man’s body to the side. The arrow tore through the bunched-up hood at the priest’s neck and clattered along the road. Jorad twisted about just as two more soldiers jumped onto the road and drew their bows. Corvan pulled them both to the ground next to the protecting of the inner wall.
“Do as you said!” the man hissed in Corvan’s ear. “Go to the refuge through the water. Find Toreg and meet me at the Karst. I’ll find a way to get into Kadir and meet you at the temple.” He gave Corvan a shove as another arrow whistled overhead.
Corvan nodded then jumped up, leapt across the road onto the river wall, and dove into the river. He hit the water cleanly, surfaced and headed to the far side, swimming hard against the current to get past the pillars supporting the bridge. Breathless, he pulled himself out of the water in the rocky bay where the water from the City of Refuge gushed out.
The chains above him rattled. Jorad was working his way past the missing floor panels. Above Jorad’s labored breathing, Corvan could hear the soldiers shouting as they ran toward the trapped priest but there were no more arrows flying, they were either out or they were trying to capture him alive.
Jorad looked down to Corvan. “Do as you have promised and find Tyreth. I swear, if you are lying to me, you will never get out of the Cor alive.”
“I promise you, Jorad, I . . .”
“Get out of sight!” Jorad rasped. “They’re coming for me, not you.”
Removing the cap from one of his small fire sticks, Corvan stuck it in his mouth, and waded into the water outlet from the City of Refuge. The current was stronger than he expected. Clamping the unlit fire stick into the opposite side of his mouth, he felt along the side walls for handholds to haul himself through the foaming water. His lungs labored to pull enough air through the slender stick to fuel his efforts. Jamming his toes into the rocks, he flicked the cap off the other stick. Now his breathing came easier, in through the mouth and out through the nose, just as Tsarek had instructed.
The current slackened as the tunnel roof pulled away and soon shafts of flickering light shot through the silver surface of the water above. He had made it past the sluice gate and into the pool. Lifting his head cautiously above the surface he scanned the stairs leading down from the gates that could lead him back to the Kadir library.
Crouching low, he waded toward the half-finished wall of the pool. There were voices on the other side. He drew in close and listened. He knew the tone and the caustic words all too well. On the other side of the wall, a group of boys was bullying a child. Corvan looked over the edge of the pool at a circle of boys gathered around a child huddled on the ground. The child’s back was against a stack of stone blocks being used to construct the pool wall wall. One kicked at the child, then stepped back to reveal a small, bedraggled boy clutching a flute against his chest. It was Gavyn.
A rush of anger propelled Corvan onto the wall with a great splash. He stood over the bullies, water pouring down his body, a smoking fire stick dangling from each corner of his mouth. The boys stared, their mouths gaping like dead fish.
Corvan tried to say, “Leave him alone!” but the smoking fire sticks scrambled his words as they twisted down like glowing fangs. What came out sounded more like “Eat them bones!”
High-pitched screams erupted as a twisting mass of young boys scrambled over one another to get away from the flesh-eating monster. They tore up the stairs, their voices fading into the streets.
Capping the firestick stubs and thrusting them into his pocket, Corvan jumped down from the wall. Gavyn rose to his feet, triumphantly holding the pan flute he’d been protecting from the bullies. He hugged Corvan around his waist, then pulled back to stare at the water dripping from Corvan’s cloak. His eyes followed the trail of puddles that led to the wall.
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The blast of a trumpet rent the air. Gavyn glanced toward the stairs, then tugged on Corvan’s sleeve, pulling him down behind the stack of stone blocks.
The horn blew again and Corvan shifted to the left, putting his eye to a crack between the rocks that exposed a narrow strip of the stairs. A man with a curved horn and barbed staff strode into view, followed by a bald man with a carved staff, the mayor Madam Toreg had met at the city gate. A noisy crowd quickly gathered behind him and the mayor hammered his staff for silence.
“Yes, I can see that something came from the pool,” he droned wearily, “but none of us has ever seen a man-eating creature with smoking fangs that swims in the water.” Loud retorts came from the audience and the mayor changed his tone. “Yes, yes, I agree. I have no good reason to doubt any of your boys, so if this monster is still in the city, we must all work together and find it.”
“Perhaps we should consult Madam Toreg,” someone suggested.
The mayor bristled. “Madam Toreg stands accused of breaking faith with our people and bringing strangers into our city. Her staff is broken, and her authority has been removed.” He waved a hand toward the pool. “It may even be her fault this creature found a way inside.”
“Then maybe she also knows how to get rid of it,” another voice interjected.
The mayor’s face grew red. “Madam Toreg will remain under house arrest until she is tried by the elders. We will not waste time asking her advice.” He gestured to the man with the trumpet. “Tewbel, you stand guard here in case the creature comes back.” He turned around and faced the crowd. “The rest of you divide into search parties and scour the city. Blow a horn if you see anything.” He pounded his staff again, and the people filed out.
The mayor watched the crowd leave then shook his head and rolled his eyes at Tewbel, before sauntering off.
The stocky man with the barbed staff stepped closer to the top of the stairs. He looked a lot like the strong man Corvan had once seen at the circus. The man surveyed the scene before him, his eyes shifting to the pool and then over to the pile of blocks.
Corvan’s stomach dropped. His trail of footprints led directly to his hiding place.
The man put his horn to his lips, paused, then let it fall to his side. Raising his weapon, he descended the stairs.
Corvan turned to tell Gavyn to run and find Madam Toreg, but the boy was already gone, leaving smaller wet footprints from where he had been standing in Corvan’s puddle Looking back through the crack, Gavyn appeared and ran up to Tewbel. The young boy held his hands up to his head made his fingers look as if horns were spouting from his hair. He loped about in circles, growling like a mad dog, then ran to the stairs and beckoned for Tewbel to follow. The man gave one last glance toward the stack of blocks and Gavyn’s footprints before climbing up after him.
A few short tunes on the pan flute slowly faded away. Gavyn was making sure Corvan knew that he and the strong man were leaving the area. Crouching low, Corvan moved up the stairs on all fours and raised his head over the top. The streets were empty. Getting to his feet, he trotted along the road beside the watercourse toward the city gates.
The entry into the City of Refuge from the ruined library of Kadir drew near. The gates stood open, but just inside, a guard stood at attention. Corvan pressed himself against the short wall that channeled the water rushing along road. He was considering climbing over to hide out of sight Gavyn came running in from a side street. The boy motioned for Corvan to keep going over to the other side of the wall, hopped over it himself, and pulled Corvan down, putting a finger to his lips.
A moment later Corvan heard marching feet on the road. The sound grew louder, passed them, the faded away. He stole a glance over the wall. A squad of armed guards took up position outside the city gates.
Corvan leaned back against the wall. With the whole City of Refuge on high alert, there was no way he could get to Madam Toreg and her grey men to ask for their help. The light of the new day was getting stronger and unless he could come up with a plan to get to the karst, Tyreth would soon be drowned at the water ceremony.
Gavyn grabbed his sleeve and pointed along the wall to where the water rushed out of a small passage, swept down a spillway and then ran along the wall to the pool below. The boy nodded eagerly, crouched low, and took off along the inside of the wall.
It was all Corvan could do to keep up with the agile boy. Gavyn ran like a spider monkey, his knuckles almost dragging on the ground, along the wall and directly inside the water cave.
Following him in, Corvan understood why Gavyn adopted this strange manner of locomotion. There was no other way to make it through the tunnel. The water was not shallow enough to crawl in, and the roof was too low to stand.
Gavyn was already out of sight, but Corvan could hear him splashing along. The tunnel turned hard to the right and the light from behind faded. It grew darker and when floor suddenly dropped away, Corvan slipped under the deeper water, then surfaced, choking, and gasping for air. Treading water, he cleared his lungs and looked overhead. He was in yet another karst. Somewhat larger than the one at the Molakar settlement, but this one also had an island rising out of the center.
A tendril grabbed his ankle and yanked him below the surface. Corvan kicked furiously, and the creature released him. Surfacing, he swam like mad toward the island, his heart pounding as he imagined the snakelike arms pursuing him.
Bright laughter filled the cavern as Corvan pulled himself out of the water and scrambled up the rocks. Gavyn swam toward him, his mouth bubbling the water as he mimicked Corvan’s panicked flight. Relief flowed with embarrassment and Corvan wanted to throw something at the little imp.
The boy joined him on the pile of stone blocks, shook out his hair like a scrawny dog, cleared the water from his ears, and pointed upward. High overhead, past the circle of the karst rim, familiar painted faces looked down. They were underneath the great library where the floor had fallen into the reflecting pool. How long had it been since he stood up there on the edge with Madam Toreg and Jorad looking down at something in the water. He looked at Gavyn. More than likely it had been the boy coming and going, but from where?
Gavyn poked him in the side, his bony shoulders held up in an exaggerated shrug as if asking where they should go next.
“I need to get to the Wasting at the temple karst,” Corvan said.
The boy’s eyes widened as he vigorously shook his head. He made motions with his hands and fingers of things swimming and being captured. Corvan grabbed his hands and held them still. “I know about the monster in the water. I don’t want to go inside the water. I need to get to the top before they throw Tyreth in.”
Gavyn nodded, gestured for Corvan to follow, dove back into the water, and swam across to a set of broken stairs. Climbing out he shook himself off and pointed upward.
Corvan dropped back into the water and followed but by the time he got across to the stairs, Gavyn was already gone, his footprints leading upward, two steps at a time. Corvan follow along and when he reached the level of the roof, the steps moved upward in a narrow channel. Corvan pulled out the hammer, thankful that the blue glow was back to light his way.
At times the way was almost impassable, but someone had removed just enough debris for a smaller person to squeeze through. His legs began to burn from all the climbing, and at times he choked on the residual water in his lungs. He called to Gavyn to wait for him, but when he eventually caught up to the boy, Gavyn only put a finger to his lips, turned away and climbed on.
The boy obviously knew the ceremony would start any time but now Corvan was wondering what could they possibly do once they arrived? How could he take on the Chief Watcher and the palace guards by himself? He had no plan, Jorad had the black knife and even if he had a weapon, every plan he’d made so far had fallen apart before it even got off the ground.
Just take the next step, he said softly to himself. “Just keep moving forward.”
The stairs leveled out into a narrow tunnel and then the rough stone walls were replaced by smooth blocks. Other passages joined in, and Corvan lost all sense of how many turns they’d taken. He was falling behind and the boy’s wet footprints had faded to periodic drips. If Gavyn lost him, he’d never find his way out.
Coming around a corner he looked up an empty corridor that climbed a final flight of steps to end in a circle of soft light. Trying to keep his labored breathing as quiet as possible, he ascended the stairs and stepped through a ragged hole.
He was back through the tapestry and in the hall of the High Priest.
