“No, if she stuck her nose down here, she planted something in the scene she wanted us to discover.”
“She can go to the Void.”
Katta sighed and rubbed at his eyes. Rayva whuffled and batted his leg with her snout, then yipped at Red.
“Don’t take his side,” the light acolyte grumbled.
Side? Red did not stop to discuss anything before he struck the wall again, Light enhancing the punch. Vantra did not think he left anything larger than fingernail-sized shards behind. Despite the violent reaction, the mini-Joyful had yet to divulge who enraged him so much, he turned the sculpture to rubble.
She had a gloomy feeling they referenced Machella. Sun priests stressed how detrimental ignoring Sun-touched divinations proved, and if the ghost disclosed thousands of years of successful prophecies, why ignore her?
“Do you think there are more snake people?” Dedari asked, glancing at the shadows beyond the four magical spheres Red formed to produce light. He, apparently, did not fear the beings following them and retaliating for her harming their brothers and sisters. She bowed her head, juggled Laken, and scrubbed at her cheeks.
She had not meant to hurt them, let alone end their lives. She panicked and forced the suffocating mental cage to go away; her freedom did not equal the cost.
“There are,” Lorgan said softly. “And it seems Red is daring them to attack.”
Kjaelle hmphed. “Yes. We need answers, and a captive might provide them.”
“You think he’ll take captives?”
She hesitated. “No.”
Vantra wanted to withdraw further into her cloak, but she could only hide so far inside the hood. She did not feel the guilt when the giant birds attacked and fell to Vesh’s arrows, or the punch of sorrow when Verryn took out the tentacled thing in the Dark. She lamented the senseless who fell to Rezenarza’s nastiness, and used Clear Rays to help. Now that she realized the destructive tendencies of the spell, she wondered how many inhabitants of the Snake’s Den she unwittingly killed trying to keep them safe from the ex-Darkness’s touch.
She felt a hand on her back. “Are you alright?”
She glanced over at Kenosera’s feet, and nodded, though she doubted he believed her.
“I see movement in shadows. How many are there?” Dedari asked.
“More than the beings who followed us down the ziptrail,” Lorgan replied. “If I had to guess, I’d say they lived here.”
“In these ruins?” Dedari hmphed, unconvinced. “The vi-van would have discovered them and eradicated their presence years ago. It is what they do, in service to Darkness and the Snake.”
“The vi-van never mentioned them,” Kenosera said. “Perhaps my grandmother preferred to keep the secret, though I do not know why.”
“They may be in her employ.” Kjaelle sighed. “If they both look to Rezenarza, that would explain how they accessed the ziptrail without being ghostly entities.”
“I’ve made many an escape using ziptrails,” Lorgan said, scholarly awe creeping into his voice. “I thought they were a sure way to evade capture by living enemies. I never realized they could survive a trip in one.”
“You need exceptional shields to manage it,” the elfine said. “Katta and Red can do it because they’re seeped in syim magic. These beings must have the help of a similar power, because otherwise, I doubt any of them would have chanced it. Shredded ghost is nothing compared to shredded living after a ziptrail mistake.”
Vantra shook her head. “It wasn’t Rezenarza,” she whispered. “He spoke to me again and said they look to one another, but he is as lost as they.”
“Rezi said ‘he’, eh?” Kjaelle’s sharp disdain could not overcome Vantra’s shock that she used a nickname for an ex-syimlin enemy. Such disrespect never ended well in stories, and she did not think traveling with Darkness’s avatar would save her if he chose to retaliate. “He must want this other being cared for. That’s very blunt, considering his typical demeanor.”
“Blunt?” Lorgan asked.
“Rezi likes the hidden. He couches all he says in twisted words and phrases, concealing his intent. He enjoys watching others miss his insinuations and delights in the chaos that follows. But with Vantra, he speaks plainly.”
“I don’t think he does,” she muttered.
“Compared to his normal roundabout conversations, he does.”
“What else did he say?” Katta asked, his voice warm and soothing, touching a part of her she desperately tried to bury and wrapping it in fuzz.
“He said the snake beings hunted for me. He thought I should pray to you and Red for help, because you’d hear me through your syimlin connection. He claimed safety lay with him, but I don’t think it does.”
Katta huffed a dark, annoyed laugh. “No, it doesn’t. What else?”
What else? How could she tell him? She could feel her essence quaking as sick betrayal coupled with the lingering horrid guilt of her acts rocked her, and she wished she could numb her thoughts, her emotions. “He asked if I ever wondered why Ga Son helps me in death when he couldn’t be bothered to save me in life. I was the daughter of his favored high priestess, after all. If he cared—”
“Vantra.” Katta’s voice filtered into her, gathering her pain and coated it in thick solace.
“Rezi will continue to use this doubt against you, too.” Kjaelle’s sad sympathy made her wonder what event she referenced. “It is a bleeding soul wound, and he will worry at it until it heals or destroys you.”
“Vantra’s made of sterner stuff, just like you,” Red called. “Which is good, because here they come. Rayva, protect Kenosera and Dedari.”
What? Vantra looked up as the vulf lunged past and to the nomads; dozens of armed beings lined the road, each outfitted with a stiff leather cuirass over an orangish red tunic, and a triangular face protection that tied behind their heads. They held short spears in their claws; mephoric emblems? No; they did not have the correct décor, nor did she sense magic power in them.
A bulkier being with tassels hanging from their shoulders jabbed their weapon at Red and shouted something in a combination of hisses, growls and clicks. Lorgan swept his hand in a circle; rushing water created a dome over them, intercepting arrows. The broadheads stuck in the surface before wobbling, dislodging, and skidding to the ground.
“Nice,” Red said, before raising his hand. “That nymph water magic is proving more useful than I’d anticipated.” He froze, then looked at the palm. “Dammit.”
“I’m out,” Katta said. Out of what? Magic? Fear pounded through Vantra’s essence. What if Lorgan’s shields failed and no one else could erect protections? Arrows might not harm the ghosts, but what about Kenosera and Dedari and Rayva? Laken?
“The ziptrail drained me,” Kjaelle said.
“How’s your energy, Lorgan?” Red asked.
“Poor.”
“Vantra?”
Horror rose before she could halt it. “I can’t,” she whispered. She could not raise another spell against the beings, not after she slaughtered so many. Red cocked an eyebrow at her, then half-smiled.
“Then we’re going to have to run for it.”
“Run where? The way to the gate is blocked.” Dedari motioned to the left side with her knife. Dozens of snaky bodies barricaded the crossroad.
“It is right now.” Red flexed his fingers. “It won’t be for long. Hey, Rayva—”
Another volley of arrows slammed into the shield, far more than previous, followed by fist-sized rocks. The enemy did not want them to escape.
The vulf barked and touched her nose to Kenosera’s and Dedari’s foreheads; a black shield covered their eyes. She jumped to Vantra and tapped the pack, then her head.
Magic darkened her sight, reminding her of the special sunglasses Sun acolytes used when tanning. She looked at Laken, barely able to see him through the light-dimming protection. She thought he made a face but said nothing as she arranged him on her back, tightened the straps, and prepared to run.
A burst of fizzy light to the right preceded a rock the size of her head smashing into Lorgan’s defenses. The shield wobbled but held, though cracks twisted away from the impact site. It thumped to the ground, casting dust everywhere, and tumbled away with tiny hops.
“What in the Void?” Red laughed. “Get ready!”
Brilliance turned everything a hot white, and despite the protections, hazy spots appeared in Vantra’s vision. Hissing erupted from their attackers. Several abandoned their weapons and broke rank to find a less bright hiding place, slithering behind walls to avoid the brightness. Some curled their head down to their chest, and some turned their back in a vain attempt to shield their faces. Only a few arrows sliced through the air, and they came nowhere near their position.
Lorgan dropped the water with a sizzling splash, and Red took off.
She struggled to keep up. Kenosera, Dedari and Rayva ran close to the ancient ghost, but could not catch him. Lorgan’s strained expression indicated his energy waned, and Kjaelle became a wisp. Katta brought up the rear, though he did not look as if he labored as much as they did.
Strenuous physical activity never appealed to Vantra, and when she first joined the Finders, she laughed to herself over the training she completed to get her essence into shape for a Redemption. Because acolytes had to carry heads relegated to Physical Touch, they needed to remain in a solid form as well. Ghosts used more energy to keep Physical Touch active, so they worked to enhance and extend their strength while in that form.
Nolaris, with a softer disposition, never required his acolytes to complete the rigorous exercises that other sages forced upon their students. Vantra privately sighed in relief over that, but now wished she had taken it more seriously. She never thought herself special enough to attract such unsavory attention, but being drained to near Ether Touch, then fleeing with her Chosen from enemies wanting to end their existence, had an unfortunate way of broadening her insight into Evenacht ghostly survival.
Most of the snake beings fled the road for dimmer air, but not all. She wove around those still in the middle of it, eyes squeezed shut, tears racing from overtaxed eyes. She knew, from Sun experience, how painful spells that centered on light could be, especially for those who kept to darker places.
One tangled their spear with her ankles. Squeaking, she fell, and Laken yelled loud enough to grab attention. Katta rammed his shoulder into the being, who stumbled to the ground with a squeal, and grabbed her arm. He hefted her to her feet as another enemy jabbed at them. They veered to the side, within harming distance of others, but the weapon tips missed them.
Grating hisses followed them as they returned to the center of the road, avoiding the haphazard attacks. As far as Vantra could see, they only targeted her. Her essence chilled.
They raced past the last opponent, who hunched down, tail twitching, uninterested in jabbing at them, and into the close-knit remains of smaller, round buildings.
They passed walls still in good condition, with overlapping splashes of colorful paint coating the bottoms. Roofs made from thick bundles of reeds pricked her curiosity; did the place have a river running through it, like Black Temple? Where else might they get reeds? No coverings hid the interiors from view, but if enemies hunkered down within, she could not see them.
Considering how many wore armor, she expected any structural modifications to reflect a military encampment. The paint hinted at a less martial existence. When had they taken up residence? Why had the soltress mentioned nothing?
They ran over a cracked, flat stone bridge that crossed a deep crevasse. The faint trickle of water reached Vantra’s ears, but she could distinguish nothing in the darkness below. They continued past a square where black streaks originated in the center and dug shallow channels outwards; the lines clove through walls, some of the damage wider than her body.
Another flare of light; Vantra could almost feel the heat on her back. Laken hissed in pain.
“Are you alright?”
“Just keep going,” he gritted.
“He’s fine,” Katta huffed. “What Sunlight spells do you know?”
“Morning dew, Sunrise and Sunset.”
“Hmm. Are you up to throwing a Sunset over Qira’s Light?”
No, but if the blinding light kept the beings from chasing them, and therefore safe, then she would do it anyway. She settled her hand against her chest and pivoted to face the excruciatingly bright rays hovering far above head height.
“Leple fe. Artanfra Pe, inde irse on raus e tixe.”
Even with the eye protection, the brightness triggered tears and squinting. She barely distinguished outlines from open air. “Laken, keep your eyes closed,” she advised, before racing to Katta, who waited patiently for her.
“Can you imagine, if you and Qira were both energized?” the Darkness acolyte chuckled as they headed after their companions.
“I don’t think he would need my help, then.”
“Maybe not, but it’s nice to have.”
They entered a long corridor with walls that reached the ceiling. Enough stone had fallen to expose the less-chiseled rock behind, with odd chips and grooves. By the time the nomads drooped and Vantra felt as if her essence might seek the Void rather than continue, they reached a small room with two open exits and a gated third. Red held the gate for them, and slammed it shut as soon as they whisked inside. He set a light between the two center bars, and Vantra enhanced it with Sunset.
“Whew, that’s bright!” Red’s gleeful huffing confused her, but she did not feel like asking after it. “I wonder if that’s enough of a deterrent for whoever is sending them after us.”
“Probably not,” Katta said as they joined the others. Kenosera and Dedari bent over their knees, panting, and Kjaelle and Lorgan looked ready to discorporate. Vantra fought the pull to Ether Touch; she needed to carry Laken, and she could not if she became a wisp. “I find it unfathomable that the Sunbright Temple acolytes knew nothing of them, especially if they took the route we did.”
“It depends on how recently they moved in,” Lorgan motioned to the nomads. “Kenosera said the vi-van never mentioned them, and Dedari’s right. If they knew, they would have hunted them down for daring to live in a sacred place. It could be that they’re responding to current events.”
“I doubt they put up the mural, even though they appear on it.” Katta glanced at Red. “Machella had to know your reaction, so why bother?”
The ancient ghost lifted his lip, and while not the scariest look, he intimidated Vantra. Had he met the oracle personally? Did that explain his anger? Or did her accurate guesses concerning his life irritate him because he disliked predictions? Did she know something that he hid?
“We need to go,” Laken said. “I saw someone appear just before Vantra did the Sunset spell, and he wasn’t a snake. The light struck him, too, but I doubt it will last.”
As one, they turned to the corridor; more walls with gaps exposing the rock backing lined their way, accompanied by dampness, mold, and unlit torches stuffed into too-small sconces. No paint, no sculpture, just a utilitarian passage.
“Quite homey.” Red lifted his palm up and a light rose from it, far dimmer than his previous incarnations. “Kenosera, I don’t suppose you recognize this place?”
“No. The ruins I’m familiar with begin above ground at the Snake Arch and descend into a large cavern with dozens of bordican for light. I never realized they extended beyond that. The vi-van and the guards don’t speak of it, anyway.”
“Since your people claim these ruins as a holy place, few would explore,” Kjaelle said. “And those that did would keep quiet about it, for fear of upsetting the naro vi-van and the Snake. It does seem odd, though, that they haven’t drawn the attention of visitors from before the ruins were closed to public access.”
“Do you think the Snake is like the smaller ones we encountered?” Dedari asked, rubbing at her side and wincing.
“No.” Kenosera swept his hand through the air in a negative gesture. “He is a hooded snake as large as a cliff.”
“He is a hooded snake,” Lorgan confirmed. “And he is larger than a cliff. Laken and I have already met him, and, well, let’s just say he’s as intimidating as you imagine.”
Laken growled in response. Vantra, concerned about a verbal battle when they could least afford to snarl at one another, hurried on.
