Shadow Prince, page 20
part #2 of Demon Hunter Series
"I can keep my head down and my footsteps light. Now or never.” Catricha started into the passage.
The two made their way into the actor’s chambers. They searched for a while in the circular room until they found a hidden door marked by a grimy word in the ancient tongue of the city.
The word read aloud said, “Jasguara.”
When Ruar touched the point of his infused blade to the word experimentally, the wall around the marking shifted and the floor lurched. The staircase opened, leading down into the gloom of the catacombs.
Catricha stared for a moment before taking the lead.
RUAR LIT THE PATH AHEAD of them with his sprites and banes. Essences chattered like teeth in the cavern as they continued below the actors’ quarters. They were frequently surprised by drips of water or occasional echoes of sound from ahead of them.
Despite herself, Catricha cringed toward Ruar when they rounded a corner and found light ahead of them not projected by him in the vast room ahead.
While the storm raged above, bright lanterns lit the huge cavern below. An amphitheater of sorts, but reversed, so that the large edge opened toward the bottom and the stairs led downward between rows of inverted seats.
They could walk down, because the reversed stairs appeared the same as those in the theater above. Below them, on a tiny circular stage, stood what looked like a washbasin. Around the basin, forms of people gathered in the light.
The people around the washbasin carried lanterns. Others steadied larger standing lamps. The light shed by all these bright glowing flames illuminated a stony shape at the center of the giant washbasin. Whatever it was, it had been carved to barely resemble a human.
Tusks protruded from the edges of the mouth, but every other feature of the head, could have belonged to a stone human. Below the neck, though the creature extended into a long, spidery form, lurking in stone. It only appeared to be sculpture. But why are these people washing it?
Catricha glanced at Ruar, silent.
"I don't know what they're doing,” he whispered. "But I think we should avoid them."
"Sleepless.” Catricha recognized the tune playing over the entire scene from a harpist at the bottom of the room.
"The sleepless?" said Ruar. "You're sure?"
“Absolutely.”
Ruar shivered. “Those are sleepless down there.”
"Others might be interested to know where they’ve been going," said Catricha. "But we're looking for the hidden truth about Jasguara."
"The Shadow of Jasguara.” Ruar sounded awed. "I'm glad you asked me for help."
"It seemed right.”
Ruar said nothing. The two of them crept along the periphery of the scene, looking into the deep chamber.
The sleepless worked, scrubbing at the side of the spidery human-faced thing in the washbasin. The five of them left the washbasin after a few moments. Two others dismantled the wooden basin around the statue. The soapy water flowed off the stage and into a dark abyss. On every side of the circular platform where they stood, the people bowed their heads to the spidery statue.
"They're worshiping it?" said Catricha. "By mercy."
"Mercy!" Ruar breathed in sharply. "Blasphemers."
"Idolaters.” Catricha frowned. "But still, what they're doing is not murder."
"Maybe, but it offends me as it offends Mother Mercy."
Catricha didn't feel the same way, but the shock of encountering someone offering respect to any being but Mother Mercy sent a cold chill creeping down her spine. The penalty for blasphemy was always steep, when uncovered.
Catricha motioned Ruar to keep moving forward. They made their way to the top of the steps, and then descended on one of the side staircases. A doorway led deeper into the underground, as on the other side of the theater. They passed through the gap and then followed the side passage deeper into the dark.
She noticed scrawlings on the walls, ancient handwork. Stone reliefs depicted scenes of demons and humans living in a world together. At the center of the room at the end of the passage there stood another statue, one of a different demon. This one, was not spidery, but shaped like a lion with a finely-crafted mane of black spikes. And the face...
Catricha's eyes narrowed. "This lion has a human face. The demon it represents..."
"What?" asked Ruar. "What is it?"
"I'm just—I feel cold," said Catricha. She spoke true. The chill from creeping up her spine to the base of her neck spread toward her extremities.
"We should leave," said Ruar. "We should go, and return with more people."
"Agreed.” The two of them turned to leave the small room but footsteps echoed from the passage they just come down. There were no other exits.
“If the sleepless come this way we won't be able to fight them all."
Ruar grimaced. “There's always surrender, or negotiation."
"Let's see who they are, first.” Catricha put a hand to her icy forehead. “Then we’ll decide what to do."
He nodded. “Our blades might yet be enough to help us escape."
“I don't want to shed blood,” said Catricha. “I'm not all that good at fighting to begin with."
"Me neither.” Ruar’s teeth clenched.
They crept along the passage toward the sound of the footsteps. Catricha's arms folded and she shivered, but the chill continued to spread through her limbs. She felt slower, almost numb.
"Ruar," she said. "I don't feel well. I think I could faint."
"Just hang on," said Ruar. "We have to get out of here."
"Right.” Catricha put her hand against the wall to support herself, barely able to feel her fingertips.
They faced two forms shifting in the shadows before them. Behind those, there were others Catricha couldn’t see as clearly. One of the two was a man, and the other a woman, with long, wavy hair. The man wore a feathery mask over his eyes. Catricha recognized them from Nansoela's party.
Where did I see that girl before? The tunnel swirled with light and darkness. The market—Right.
Catricha’s fingers slid down the wall. She sank her knees.
“I told you I would faint,” she murmured.
Her head swam with the freezing waters of an icy ocean. She felt Ruar's arms around her and she collapsed into unconsciousness.
SHE KNEW SHE WAS DREAMING but couldn’t force herself awake. She lay frozen as a shadowy shape stalked toward her. The face of a lioness yawned, jaws wide and teeth cold. The chill of night pervaded her very being, spreading from the head downward. She stared into the eyes of the ghostly beast.
The great cat roared and gnashed rotting teeth. Dark eyes met Catricha’s gaze and spoke of approaching death. She fought to cry for help, but made no sound in her paralysis. The faces of her friends, of Porfiria, Sion, and Ruar, flickered before her, each taking the place of the lion for an instant.
The monstrous shadow pounced.
CATRICHA WOKE IN A warm bed, a chill, wet cloth on her forehead. The sensible clothes she'd worn for the meeting with Ruar were gone and she was naked beneath the fine linen sheets. Carefully, she removed the cold compress from her forehead and set it beside her on the mattress.
She sat up, looked around, but found the room empty except for a chair by the door and a chest of drawers with a mirror behind it. Worse, the place looked as unfamiliar as it did barren.
The people in the passage, she thought, had they done something to Ruar? To her?
Perhaps they were from the sleepless and clearly up to no good. Whatever the sleepless did beneath the city, they intended to remain hidden. Catricha frowned and climbed out of bed.
She found a pair of trousers by the high chair by the door. The floorboards creaked as she walked over them. She put on the trousers, realizing they were the pair she’d worn to the meeting. The tunic she'd been wearing also lay nearby on the seat of the chair. She picked up the shirt and began to put it on as quickly as she could. A tap at the door made her turn before she could completely finish with the tie at the back.
A glint of metal from the partially-unsheathed blade of her bane dagger gleamed at her from the chair. The weapon had been hidden beneath her tunic.
Catricha gave up fastening the shirt’s tie. She snatched the knife in both hands as the door began to open. The sheath thudded to the floor between her and the woman who stood in the doorway.
Catricha looked at the face of the woman from the underground passage, pale features haloed by waves of dark hair. “Who are you?”
“I’m Melissa Dorian. I’m a mage,” said the woman. “Please, put down the knife, Lady Maltos.”
“You know who I am. If you think that’s clever I won’t bother to correct you.” Catricha glared at Melissa. “Where is Ruar? What did you do to him?”
“The young Kuldettan is in the next room,” said Melissa. “We wouldn’t hurt him.”
“You didn’t—” Catricha’s breath caught in her chest. Thank Mercy, she thought. “Where are we?”
“An apartment owned by House Paroth.” Melissa half-turned, motioning into the adjoining room.
“Paroth? Let me see Ruar.”
“Are you sure you want him to see you as you are?”
Catricha looked down at herself, and realized with growing heat she still only wore her trousers. The tunic she’d failed to tie lay fallen on the floor behind her. The blood rose to her face.
“I catch your meaning. I thought mages were supposed to be the more absent-minded, but that shows how little we nobles think.”
“No need to insult yourself,” Melissa said.
“Dorian, was it? You’re new to the city, but when something here is out of step, I point it out. Thank you very much.”
Melissa’s eyebrows rose as Catricha set the dagger on the chair’s seat. She turned to leave.
“Wait a moment,” said Catricha quickly.
Melissa turned, silent.
Catricha lowered her voice. “Could you help me get the ties at the back?”
Melissa smiled and nodded to Catricha, letting the door close behind her.
CATRICHA LOOKED AROUND the room, taking in the people gathered in the Paroth safe house. Ruar rose and took a step toward her as she entered.
He wore a concerned frown, and his face flushed as he looked at her. The man in the feathery mask sat by the window, overlooking a street covered by dark clouds as light faded in the afternoon hours. Catricha’s stomach rumbled, reminding her she’d missed lunch. Too many people in the city went without food all day.
Catricha considered herself spoiled by her life as a noble. Entertaining people by deriding other nobility did not make up for everything she gained from her position.
Melissa, walked to the man in the mask and nodded to him. "It looks like she'll be all right. I heard strange sprite songs from inside the room, but I think it was just hers."
"You heard my heart song?” said Catricha.
"I can still hear it,” said Melissa. "Do you have any magic?"
"None I know how to use.” Catricha sighed. "Maybe that's why had trouble down there. Monsters and demons...their ilk can play hell with magic, can’t they?"
Melissa arching an eyebrow. “How much do you know about magic?”
"Not enough," said Catricha.
Ruar’s brow furrowed. He took an awkward step toward her. "We need to let your parents know you’re alright."
"I'm not a child," said Catricha. "I don't have to return just yet.” She looked out the window. "Besides, we may have company to attend to before any of us can go."
Outside the window, swarms of bright torches, sizzled in the rain. The lights glowed over a crowd of sleepless, their eyes hidden by the glare. Catricha guessed every single one would be strained and bloodshot from days without rest.
"What are they doing here?" asked Catricha. "Did they follow us?"
"We didn't get away clean," said the man in the feather mask.
"So they are after me?" said Catricha. "Perfect."
“Don’t fear.” Melissa smiled. “They've not done anything violent, but if they try anything, you have myself and my friend here."
"Who is your friend?" asked Catricha. "I can nearly guess because we’re sitting in a Paroth house."
"It is obvious, isn’t it?" The man whisked his hand to the air, tugging the feathers from his face and suspending them on shimmering strings. "You found me out.” Galocai smiled. "You've grown a little since I last saw you, Catricha."
"A little?” Catricha gave a loud laugh. “It's been five years."
"Five years since you last attended one of your sister's parties?" Ruar stared at the other man. "Galocai?"
"Indeed.” Galocai laughed. I ended my absence only recently."
Melissa folded her arms, lips curving with amusement. “It was for the best."
"I think so." Galocai winked at Melissa.
Melissa laughed, then straightened herself noticeably. "Right. I don’t want them to surround us."
"We’re mages.” Galocai snorted. “They can't defeat us in a fight, especially with your sacra form."
"I don't want to hurt them if we can avoid it," said Melissa. “To rip through a crowd, even if they are cultists to some underground demons would be murder."
Ruar grunted, then snapped his fingers. "The city guard! They'll do something at the least. We may be able to get some of the palace guards if we need them as well."
"The city guard might act if they knew what was going on," said Catricha. "But we have no way of contacting them without leaving the building."
"That may not be true," said Melissa. "Galocai.” She turned to the other mage.
"I've already sent some feathers carrying notes across town to the nearest guardhouse," said Galocai. "Hopefully, the guards will be here soon."
"What will we do until then?" Catricha glanced out the window at the crowd. "Waiting here for an hour or two while the guards break up the mess outside feels wrong."
Melissa shrugged. "While you were sleeping you seemed a little less tense."
“Funny," said Catricha. "I guess my dreams didn't show."
"What kind of dreams did you have?" asked Galocai. "They may be important."
"There was a beast made of shadows with awful teeth...It was just a dream.” Catricha shook her head. "But it felt very real."
“Your strong essences could be fooling with your mind. I never encountered that kind of thing, but my strong essences are based on physical abilities, not mental ones."
"You have strong essences too?” Catricha narrowed her eyes. “Who are you, really?"
"I was once the heir to the Dorian merchant family.” Melissa grimaced. "I was banned from mage-craft in the south, where my family lived at the time. I left to become a caravan guard. But you don't need to know the rest. I’ve become a mage recently."
"What are your strong essences?" asked Catricha. "Will they be useful if we have to fight the cultists?"
"My strong essences are iron and shatter," said Melissa. "The iron is a bane and the shatter a sprite, but I don't understand the one as well as the bane."
“You have two?" Catricha stared at Melissa. "Have you had them your whole life?"
"I think so,” the mage said. “They only awakened at the start of this past summer."
"Regardless.” Ruar nodded. “They must enhance your physical abilities, so should be useful in battle."
"They are," said Melissa. "I’ve used them before, and they can be devastating, but only if I can fight without holding back."
"Do you think that's necessary now?" said Galocai. "They are ordinary people, as far as we’ve seen. There are no mages among them, just rabble."
"That rabble outnumbers us fifty-to-one.” Melissa shook her head. "They gathered even more people from the streets, rather than just pursuing us straight from the underground."
"Whether they are two or two-hundred," said Galocai with a snort. "They are no match for us as a group."
"You mean, no match for you two mages?" Catricha motioned to Melissa and Galocai. "If that’s true, you must've learned something since we last saw each other."
"I certainly have," said Galocai. "But I wouldn't put myself up against them alone. Thanks to Melissa, I feel that we will be safe."
"We wait for the guards.” Melissa turned to Galocai. "That's final."
"I like it when a woman tells me what to do.” Galocai smirked.
Melissa’s face flushed. "It's not like that.”
"Don't worry," said Galocai. “My nature is to speak plainly, mask or no mask."
"It always has been.” Catricha recalled numerous occasions when Galocai had been nearly as blunt as Catricha herself. His reputation once soured as a result.
Ruar glanced to Galocai, frowning. "I don't know you well, but Catricha trusts you, and I think we can rely on Melissa's judgment. You say she's the better mage. Perhaps we shouldn't risk fighting if she feels out of her depth."
"Thank you," said Melissa. "Master Kuldettan."
"It's nothing," said Ruar. "I'm trying to be judicious. The risk to myself and Catricha would be high in the street. Neither of us has powerful magic to wield. I only know a little, and she only has strong essence she doesn't know how to wield."
"What kind of song did you hear from me?” asked Catricha, turning to Melissa with a fluttering stomach. "Was that what drew you in there?"
“I heard a dark tune, low and humming with discord. I've never heard anything quite like it, before, so I investigated.”
Galocai nodded. "Honestly, I found it slightly frightening."
"Slightly?" Ruar laughed. "You were noticeably shaken when the song started."
"Noticeably.” Galocai sat back, eyes twinkling. "But not greatly."
Melissa shook her head. "You men and your pride. There's no shame in admitting you were afraid."
"There was nothing to fear, though," said Galocai. "So, let's revise that history slightly."
"You Paroth do like your revision." Catricha shook her head and smiled. "I don't mean to be ungrateful but you and your sister have gotten me into enough trouble, lately."
"Nansoela doesn't need any more hangers-on," said Galocai. "If that's what you mean."
