Chapter 50
50
K ANTHE STEPPED GINGERLY into the copper egg. He kept his shoulders hunched, as if fearful of being attacked by the Sleeper’s ghost for his trespass. Still, each time he placed a boot down, glass crunched loudly. He winced at the noise but kept going.
“What are you doing?” Frell called from the entrance.
Kanthe reached his goal. He pointed at the source of the blue glow. A crystal box, cornered in copper, hung crookedly from a conduit bent off the wall. From inside, the pulsing luminosity continued to dim and brighten, as if eternally signaling for help.
And that’s the problem.
He turned to Frell. “The hue and tinge of this light. Doesn’t it remind you of something?”
The alchymist frowned his frustration.
“Shiya’s crystal globe of the world,” Kanthe explained. “We were guided here because of a glowing blue marker on her sphere, shining deep in the Southern Klashe. A blue that matches this glow.”
Pratik nodded. “He’s right. I’d swear to it.”
“Such a light was supposed to indicate where a Sleeper remained intact.” Kanthe pointed to the bronze figure. “Does that look undamaged to you?”
“What’s your point?” Frell asked.
Kanthe looked up at the crystal cube. “It must be a beacon. One that was never destroyed by whatever force struck here. That’s why it’s still sending out a signal—a false signal.” He turned to the others. “Before we leave, we need to destroy it. It’s the only good we can make of this entire disaster.”
“Why?” Frell asked.
Kanthe exhaled his frustration, trying to explain. “If we extinguish the signal, Shiya’s crystal globe should note the change. Like it had with all the other dead Sleepers. If nothing else, it’s a way we can signal Nyx and the others that we got here. They may not know we failed in securing the Sleeper, but by dousing this light, we can let them know we got this far.”
Frell rubbed his chin. “That’s true. I’m not sure of the benefit, but it’s better than doing nothing.”
“We came all this way,” Kanthe said. “The least we can do is turn off the light on our way out, ending this farce.”
Pratik shook his head. “We shouldn’t destroy it.”
Kanthe frowned at him. “But—”
Pratik ducked into the egg, too. “You’re right that we need to switch it off. But we should find a way to take it with us afterward. Undamaged, if possible. Down the line, with further study, perhaps we can find a way to use it as a means of communication with Shiya.”
Cassta glanced at Kanthe, a twinkle in her eyes. “That’s an even better idea with a greater possible outcome.”
Kanthe felt his cheeks growing flush.
Why didn’t I think of that?
“Don’t look so perturbed,” Cassta scolded. “Chaaen Pratik would never have come up with that notion if you hadn’t made this connection.”
“That’s right,” Pratik agreed.
Cassta kept her gaze on Kanthe. “Remember. True ingenuity seldom comes from one set of lips, but many,” she said. “Even lips as pretty as yours.”
Kanthe’s face grew hotter, and he had to look elsewhere. He waved at the crystal cube overhead. “We should see about getting this down.”
“To that end…” Jester yanked a hand-ax from a hook on his belt. “I’ve got some true ingenuity right here.”
It ended up not being that simple, but working together, they managed to safely decouple the crystal cube from its mounts and cut it free. As they did, the light flared to a blinding brilliance, then went dark.
“What about the remains of the Sleeper?” Pratik asked.
Frell shook his head. “He’s too heavy to haul out on our own. Best to let him rest in his grave for now.”
With nothing more they could do, the group prepared for the long journey back to sunlight. Mead picked up the dark cube and hefted it over his shoulder, carrying it in a makeshift sling. Exhausted and still despondent, no one spoke as they set off.
As they climbed out of the cavern, Rami drew alongside Kanthe. The Klashean prince had never said a word upon the discovery of the copper egg. His eyes had remained shadowed the entire time, his brow crossed by deep lines.
Rami stepped closer. He reached a hand toward Kanthe, then dropped it.
“What’s wrong?” Kanthe asked—which, considering all that had transpired over the past few days, felt like a stupid question.
Rami frowned. “In truth, I must admit that a part of me still bore doubts about your group’s endeavors. But what I saw back there—” He glanced across the cavern. “It challenges all I know of our world.”
“I don’t blame you. I didn’t handle it much better when I was first dragged into it all.” He offered Rami a small smile. “Even now, it’s sometimes too much for my ale-shrunken brain to fathom.”
Rami matched his grin. “Maybe together we can make sense of it.”
“I… I’d like to try.”
Kanthe choked with relief. He hadn’t realized how much he had valued their friendship until it was gone. While growing up, he had always had a boon companion at his side: a twin brother with whom he had shared a womb. After his falling-out with Mikaen, Kanthe remained wary of others. He kept everyone at a distance. If the deep bond of twins could be so readily broken, what hope was there for any other close relationships? While Kanthe had found a deep friendship with Jace, such rapport remained rare for him.
Kanthe glanced sidelong at Rami, hoping all could be mended between them. He missed a brother he could call a friend.
Rami caught him looking and must have read his thoughts. “This doesn’t mean I’m still not mad at you.”
“I get it.”
“Though, I may have to declare my anger more obdurately when I’m around Aalia. She’ll expect no less.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Rami nodded. With the matter settled, the prince raised another, cocking a brow toward Kanthe. “So, what is going on between you and Cassta?”
“Nothing,” he blurted out, caught off guard. He then lowered his voice. “She barely knows I exist.”
Rami made a noncommittal grunt. “Too bad. I was imagining both of you sharing my bed. I wonder if I proposed such a—”
Kanthe grabbed his arm. “Please don’t. I’ve seen her practicing with her knives. Neither of us would survive.”
“If one had to die, I can think of worse ways.”
Kanthe looked aghast at him.
Rami elbowed him. “Or it could just be us in bed. That’s perfectly fine, too.”
Kanthe sighed and shook his head, beginning to wonder if friendships were truly worth all the trouble.
The group continued the long trek back through the maze. If anything, the return was more strenuous, as the route climbed ever upward. Still, they made better progress. The path back home had been marked. There was no longer any second-guessing at crossroads. But more importantly, there were no more quakes.
After an interminable time, the distant glow of sunlight flowed around a jagged corner. Kanthe gasped in relief. Finally. As he made that turn with the others, the character of the light grew clearer. It flickered and danced along the tunnel walls.
“Is that smoke?” Frell asked, crinkling his nose.
Kanthe smelled it, too. It cut through the ubiquitous stench of sulfur. It smelled like a fiery hearth, only with an acidic tang to it.
Fearing the worst, they all rushed forward.
The smoke thickened as they crossed the last of the tunnel. A dull roaring echoed to them. Desperate for an answer, fearing for the Quisl and its crew, they hurried even faster.
But Rami blocked them from leaving. “Grab your torches first and be ready.”
Kanthe had nearly forgotten about the clouds of lycheens outside. He grabbed two brands and followed the others. The smoke now choked and stung his eyes. The roaring ahead snapped and spat angrily. Still, no one slowed.
They reached the mouth of the tunnel and clambered atop a flat-topped boulder to get a better view. Kanthe gasped as the sight opened. The neighboring forest of Naphtha pines had been set on fire. Flames swirled high, churning smoke far into the sky. Trees exploded with loud blasts as their combustible sap ignited.
“Where’s the wingketch?” Pratik yelled over the fire’s roar.
Kanthe had already noted the ship was gone. “They must have fled from the fire.”
“But what happened?” Jester asked, resting a palm atop his head. “Where’s our sodding ride out of this boiling piss pot?”
As if hearing him, a large shadow swept over the cliff and into view overhead. They all looked up. The ship was bathed in smoke. The ketch must have been circling, keeping clear of the flames, waiting for their return. But if nothing else, at least the fires had chased the clouds of lycheens from the area.
Kanthe waved his two torches, trying to signal the ketch.
Cassta yanked his arms down. “It’s not the Quisl. ”
“What?”
As the smoke wafted clearer for a breath, revealing more of the wyndship, he saw she was right. Its keel was twice as long, its hull three times as wide. Flames blasted from its many forges. As it swept fully over the cliff’s edge, its flat stern displayed a prominent pair of gold crossed swords, the Klashean Arms.
“It’s an imperial battle barge,” Rami said with a note of terror.
Something twanged from the boulders ahead of them, sharp enough to pierce the fire’s roar. Jester grunted and dropped to a knee. He touched the feathered end of an arrow sticking out of his thigh. Another bolt sliced through his left ear in a spray of blood, sending him toppling over with a grunt of pain.
Rami waved them all back. “Down! On your bellies,” he yelled, not in anger but in fear.
Kanthe threw himself flat, knocking the air from his lungs.
Once the others obeyed, too, Rami stepped forward, raising his arms and hollering loudly to the sky, “I am Prince Rami im Haeshan! Fourth son of His Illustriousness, Emperor Makar ka Haeshan. My captors have submitted!” Kanthe lifted his head to peer around.
Shadows stirred from among the boulders and to either side. Overhead, warriors leaped from the ship’s deck. Wings snapped wide across their backs. They swept downward, rushing to secure the prince of the realm.
Kanthe looked toward where the Quisl had been moored.
Where did the ketch go? And how did the imperial forces find them?
He feared the worst.
Either Llyra betrayed us—or there was a spy with us all along.