Destruction's Ascent, page 20
part #3 of Dragon Ridden Chronicles Series
His chuckle told her he didn't hold it against her.
"We're going to figure out a way to get you all out of here," Tate told him.
"No, you're not. You need to leave before they find you," he ordered. The force behind those words would have been more impressive if he'd had the strength to back them up. As it was, he collapsed back onto the ground as if his arms weren't able to support him anymore.
Night padded back over to her, casting a look in the cell before focusing back on her. I can't find any way to release them.
"Hey, stay awake. I need your help. Tell me how to get you and the rest out of here," Tate said, stepping close to the cell. Her senses tingled as whatever was there warned her away.
He lifted a hand and waved it limply. "I've already said that you can't."
"I'm not just leaving the children here."
His hand dropped back to the floor and he went limp.
Damn it. Tate fought the urge to kick the air, having a feeling that it wouldn't go well for her if she did.
She turned and rushed to Jack's cell. "Jack, do you know how they open your cells? Anything you might have seen?"
He stood right in front of the barrier, his eyes worried. He shook his head. "No, they're always out of sight when they release one of the kids."
"Do you if they usually go to a certain area before they come to get you?"
It wasn't much to go on, but she was grasping at straws.
He bit his lip and thought about it, before pointing to his left, back toward where the dragon was. "They always pass to the end before they open up a cell."
Good. That was at least a place to start.
"Tate, wait," Jack shouted when she started to leave. She stepped back in front of his cell. "There's a boy two cells down from me. Is he still there?"
Tate hesitated. She needed to get these open. Checking on his friend would waste time they might not have.
"Please, they came in earlier and I haven't heard his voice since." His eyes pleaded with her, and she didn't have it in her heart to deny him. Not when he'd been abducted and locked away from the light.
She darted over to the cell he'd mentioned. There was a boy. About five years old, his hair a wild mass of curls around his head. He stared vacantly at the wall, a dragon wrapped around his neck.
Tate's lips parted. How did this boy have a dragon when one hadn't made the bond in the last century? And never this young? Or so she had been told.
She tried to wave at him, draw his attention so she could ask if he was alright. He didn't react, his eyes empty and his face blank. He was alive but whatever essence made him, him, was on sabbatical.
She stepped away from his cell, uneasy and grateful to leave. It left a horrible taste in her mouth. She should want to help him, but all she could feel was an ickiness coating her skin, a sense of wrongness that told her no amount of help in the world could restore him to his normal self.
Now that she’d seen the boy’s state, she took closer note of the rest, seeing that many of them carried a dragon on their body. Some were caught in some type of horrible half-state, a twisted blend of human and dragon. One boy’s dragon had shifted fully. Another’s spine was hunched and twisted, his body a broken mess, leaving her unsure whether the resulting creature was dead or alive.
She gulped, her stomach rebelling at the sight. She’d had nightmares about this happening to her. That these children were living that awful reality made everything much worse.
"There's a boy there. He's about five," Tate told Jack. She didn't tell him the rest, wanting to protect him even though any hope of that had gone out the window when he was put in that cage.
"That's not him." Jack sounded desperate as he stepped closer to the cell’s edge.
"Be careful, Jack. I don't know what this barrier will do," she warned.
"That's Eric. Something's wrong with him. They took him and when they brought him back, he wasn't him anymore."
The words sent a chill down Tate's back.
"They must have taken John. You have to help him. This is his second time. Kids don't come back after the second time." Jack's words were urgent.
Much as Tate wanted to help his friend, she couldn't. First, because she had no idea where they'd taken him. Second, because she didn't know how to save the children she'd already committed to.
"I'll do my best," Tate told Jack. "But right now, we have to figure out how to help you and the rest."
She'd deal with her promise once they were safe.
He nodded, his hands flexing at his sides.
"What else can you tell me?"
He lifted red-rimmed eyes to hers. "Every time someone doesn't come back, the earth shakes."
Tate paused. She hadn't been expecting that. Before she could react, he continued.
"It's old bala mar eating their soul," he said, tears thick in his throat. "It's because we're evil children, isn't it? They're throwing us to the Creators to be twisted into their monsters."
His emotion upset those in the rest of the cells and suddenly more than one voice was crying out. The words were indecipherable in some cases, while others begged for their mother.
"Shh, shh," Tate tried to sooth. Attracting attention was the last thing they needed right now.
Tate, something's happening, Night warned, bounding up to her. I think that dragon's right and we need to get out now.
"We can't just leave them," Tate argued.
His tail thrashed behind him, betraying the turmoil inside. We're no help to them if we're in a cell right beside them. We need Ryu and an army.
Before she could argue, the ground beneath them heaved, sending Tate to her knees. Cries from the children rose around her, and Night splayed his feet, ears pinned back.
They stayed down, the world undulating under them for several minutes as Tate prayed to every ancestor and god out there not to let the roof cave in. This far underground, the weight of the earth would crush them if the tunnel's support failed.
After several minutes, the shaking slowed. Then stopped.
"You alright?" Tate asked Night as he stood from where he'd been hugging the ground with all four paws.
I do not like being underground when that happens.
Tate echoed the sentiment. A quake when she was aboveground had been scary enough. It reached a new level of terrifying down here.
Jack stood, his face turning sad. "You're too late for John."
"We don't know that," Tate told him. "You have to have hope even when it's hard. It's the only way to survive."
She didn't know if her words got through to him, but it was all she could spare.
"We need to get them out of here. Now," she said.
She strode down the room toward the area where Jack had first pointed. Night shadowed her, slinking after her. They only made it a short distance when a blue light appeared at the end of the row of cells.
"It's the zure," a boy shouted.
There were small cries as the boys crept to the very back of their cages, huddling in on themselves.
Tate and Night froze.
"You ever seen that before?" she asked him.
No.
Tate might have. She couldn't be sure, but it looked like one of the traps the ancients used. She'd encountered it in another set of tunnels much like these. Last time, it had simply scanned them and triggered a change in their environment—unsettling, but ultimately harmless.
The boys' reaction concerned her. The level of fear with which they responded to the long beam of blue light seemed extreme for a simple scan.
She backed up a step. Now that she thought of it, the other light had been more greenish than blue.
The motion attracted its attention. If a light could imitate a hunting dog and go on point, that would be what happened. Its focus swung to the two of them, the glow brightening as it elongated into a thin sheet.
"We might want to run," Tate said, taking several steps back as it started toward them. Slow, but picking up speed.
Night didn't need to be told twice, bounding down the corridor of cells, Tate leaping after him. The light caught her, its brightness preceding it for one timeless moment before her muscles locked up, spasming and pulling a scream from her.
Night darted toward her, changing direction between one leap and the next. His mouth opened and lips curled up to expose fangs as he nipped and bit at the glowing blue thing.
It broke apart, dissolving into a thousand blue motes as it buzzed around him. A strangled cry of pain escaped him as they zipped into him. Pain that was echoed by Tate as it felt like her body was consumed, one tiny bite at a time—like there were thousands of teeth working at her from the inside out.
"Ilith," Tate screamed. Her dragon shoved forward, transforming Tate’s hand, elongating her face. It wasn't a full transformation. Tate and Ilith shared the body, forcing it into a weird amalgam of both.
Her dragon looked at the blue motes, symbols forming out of the glow. She bared her teeth at it and chomped down, crunching through the magic holding them together. They popped in her mouth, sending shards of fire dancing down her nerve endings.
Tate could have strangled Ilith as the pain increased. She was supposed to help, not try to eat the problem. White noise filled her ears and eyes. The world fell away even as she dissolved to meet it, Night's agonized screech echoing her own.
*
A sharp pounding in her head called Tate back to consciousness. Even her hair tingled with remembered pain as she curled into a bed that was harder than usual.
A grunting snarl brought her to full awareness, and she opened her eyes. Her automatic wince was aborted when only a soft glow met her instead of the sharp stabbing of bright light.
A roar echoed off the stone as Tate pushed herself to a sitting position. She squinted at Night, hindquarters still on the ground as he tried to stand to meet a nonexistent assailant. The roar and snarl had been him, she assumed as she pushed back her hair and looked around.
They were no longer in the room of cells—Jack, the blue light, and all the rest, gone.
"Enough, Night," Tate croaked. "Whatever did that is long gone."
He didn't immediately stop, though the volume decreased until his roars were closer to irate grumblings. The sound seeming to comfort him as he lowered himself again so he was lying flat.
Tate glanced around, somehow unsurprised to find them in the room where the mirror had spit them out.
Her limbs felt like wet noodles, achy, and unwilling to bear any weight as she tried to push herself to her feet.
"We need to get back there. Get them free," she said. She rolled onto her knees and took a deep breath. That had been way harder than normal. Maybe a symptom of whatever had transported them through physical space to their current surroundings?
That reminded her of another being who could do the same sort of thing, only with significantly less adverse effects.
"Ai, are you there?" Tate croaked, talking to the being others had referred to as a minor goddess. She didn't know whether Ai was a god, but the girl had demonstrated she was capable of nearly anything, including instantaneous transportation—at least within the scope of the tunnels.
"Ai, we could really use your help," Tate called.
She waited a moment, her only answer a long silence, punctuated by her breathing and Night's faint growls.
Tate pushed to her feet in a herculean effort. Guess they were going to have to do this the hard way. She only prayed that green floaty-thing didn't have the ability to alert the children's captors of their previous rescue attempt.
Where are you going? Night finally asked as she staggered back down the tunnel.
"I need to save the children." Tate's voice was filled with a fierce purpose and steely resolve.
Now that some time had passed, her legs and body were feeling much steadier, and she didn't feel like her head was going to fall off at any second. That was good. It would make saving the children a lot easier.
Wait for me, Night grunted as he leveraged his hind quarters to standing. You're going to need someone to watch your back on this fool's errand.
They had only made it a few steps into the corridor when a bone-chilling scream filled the air. It was a sound full of menacing promise meant to remind humans they were not the top of the food chain down here.
It was echoed by smaller screeches and howls. Another scream sounded.
Night's ears flattened against his head as he crouched, hugging the floor with his body as if that might save him from whatever was coming.
"What is that?" Tate asked, staring down the corridor.
There was the sound of movement as whatever made those screams barreled toward them. Fast.
We need to go. Night didn't wait for her agreement, lunging up to bury his teeth in her sleeve before yanking her back down the tunnel toward the mirror.
"Night, we can't go. The children are still down there," Tate protested.
Night didn't pause, nor did he release Tate, his neck bent at an odd angle so that he was running with it tilted to the side. It would have been cute if she didn't sense the desperation in him. His fur had sleeked against his body and his eyes had a frantic look she'd never seen before.
You can't help them if you're dead. We won't win against that thing.
They burst into the chamber with the mirror, the creature's scream echoing all around them.
Tate chanced a glance back at the thing. It had closed in on their mad scramble until it was nearly breathing down their necks.
At first, all she saw were red eyes—two rows of them. Then the rest of the beast came into focus, a long face and large mouth that almost looked like it was smiling. Its head was close to the ceiling, long legs pressing against each wall, leveraging its furry back so high it brushed rock. A long tail tipped with a stinger curled down toward the floor.
Night was right. They had no way of fighting that thing. It would kill them in a heartbeat.
Ilith hissed in her mind, the thing unsettling her as she sensed wrongness in it.
Run, she roared.
Tate's legs pumped with renewed energy. She didn't chance another glance behind her, more concerned about coaxing as much speed from her body as possible to give her a better chance of surviving. She'd either be faster or dead. Looking wouldn't affect the outcome and would only serve to slow her down.
She didn't glance back, but she could hear the scrabbling of its body as it pursued them into the chamber. Feel its presence as it got closer and closer.
Night, picking up on her desire to escape, released her and bounded toward the mirror—one last leap carrying him through its black depths, the surface rippling. Tate dove through before its surface even stopped moving.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
SHE LANDED ON her back on the other side, her ears ringing like before and that odd taste back in her mouth.
She didn't care. They were alive and that was all that mattered.
She lay there panting, her eyes trained on the surface of the mirror. Nothing had stopped the creature in Thora's study from coming through. The same could happen here.
When a long moment passed, she sat up before patting Night's back.
"Guess we managed not to die this time," she told him.
He didn't answer, his eyes trained on the area behind her.
She stiffened, before turning slowly to take in a man in a guardian's robes, gaping at her like she was an apparition.
Ah. This was awkward.
She gave him a sickly-sweet smile. "Hello, there. Guess you're wondering how we managed to come out of that mirror."
His mouth opened and shut several times as he looked between her and the mirror in question. She didn't blame him for being tongue-tied. In his shoes, she'd feel the same.
Not wanting to be at a disadvantage, she stood and brushed her hands off, giving the man a sunny smile.
"I don't suppose there's any way to keep this between ourselves?" She gave him a hopeful look.
He continued staring at her.
"What’s this?" An enraged voice asked from further in the room.
Tate didn't bother to conceal her sigh. Yeah, she figured there wasn't any way to keep this a secret.
A man wearing robes similar to the first, except for a gold length of fabric draped around his neck and black ribbon sewn into the cuffs of his sleeves, came into view. His face was scandalized as he took in Night and Tate standing in the middle of the treasure room.
Another man trailed after him, his face haughty and cold. He was wearing a fine coat with ornate gold buttons on it. His expression seemed frozen in a sneer. His gaze swept over the two of them, taking their measure at a glance.
"Linc, I asked you a question," the first man said. Tate thought he might be one of the guardians; no doubt someone of import who expected people to jump when he looked at them a certain way. "You know these rooms are off-limits to all but those who've passed the ramal."
"Sir, I—I—They came through the mirror." Linc finally managed to get an explanation out past his surprise.
The other guardian scoffed. "You can think of a better lie than that."
Linc blinked at the other man, his eye glasses askew, looking for all the world like a surprised gopher.
Tate took pity on him. "He's not lying. We really did come through the mirror."
She left out the fact that they'd left the room by way of the mirror too.
The guardian transferred his regard to her, his nostrils flaring before what looked like recognition registered in his face. He seemed momentarily off-balance as he stared at Tate like he'd seen a ghost.
His companion stepped into the breech. "Next, you'll be telling us that you've come by way of the river of stars or that the Saviors sent you to us poor saps." His tone held a note of scathing rebuke wrapped in sardonic amusement. To the guardian, he said, "It's obvious they're thieves at worst or overzealous followers at best. I can call for my men and have them in the Deeps in an hour."
The man's words seemed to snap the head guardian out of his fugue, bringing him back to his senses. "Of course, you're right. I think that might be the best course."
