Chapter Fourteen

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Dark Horses

“Without her, I wouldn’t have come back. Neither of us would have.”

AVERY

Provinces
Sandia
Aquamarine (March) 13, 2013

“Don’t worry, it’s not far,” Timon said, skipping a little with some of his steps.

His voice was a hopeful chirp, and it made Cedwyn smile ever so slightly to think that a child thought he had to reassure Outriders in the dark. Then, as he looked idly from one gemstone to the next, a new thought crossed his mind.

This was no raw vein: The stones had been mined, cut, then inserted into the walls.

Mined from where? Sandia had traditionally been cut off from most Republic trade.

The idea of such wealth in a town that had gone nearly unnoticed for over a century—

Movement caught Cedwyn’s attention and he lowered his gaze to watch the frenzied twitching of Relic’s hands. He was counting steps, fingers moving in silent calculation – each little tremor a new tactile memory. They wouldn’t get lost down here, at least.

As one turn piled onto another, he was all the more thankful for that fact.

“Say, Timon,” he said quietly, “just how old are these tunnels?”

“Old,” the kid answered. “Older’n me. Older than Sandia, even.”

“Where do they go?” Cedwyn asked, trying to keep his voice light.

Timon considered the question for a second or two—

“They go ...” He gestured, swinging his arm wide into the air. “Out.”

Cedwyn nodded quietly to himself; Isabelle glanced his way and their eyes met.

She was expecting more, but he just shrugged, indicating Relic’s hand with a shift in his gaze. Relic himself was looking up, beyond the gem-inlaid walls to the barest hint of the ceiling far above. They each peered up to see, but couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

Relic let himself drift a few steps away from Jace, using the light from an especially large lapis lazuli to confirm his hunch. Then he nodded to himself. “Limestone. This whole thing, or at least the basic outline, could have been formed through natural processes.”

His voice was pitched low, and the others leaned in slightly to hear him – even Jace. But it didn’t seem to matter: Their guide didn’t even slow down, let alone look back. Isabelle hesitated for a moment, nibbling her lower lip before she faced Relic.

“What kind of properties does it have?”

Relic tilted his head thoughtfully before realizing what she meant.

“It blocks out ...” He made a gesture with one hand flat, the other tall. “... things.”

“Things?”

“The overall effect would be that the stones – that is, their energies – flow around it.”

But there was no time to continue from there. They lengthened their stride to catch up with the others, who had not stopped. The light around them was not growing brighter, but their eyes were becoming accustomed to it.

They had to file around an obelisk topped with a great pearl—

Relic found himself looking back, and only moved when Isabelle touched his shoulder.

From there, the walls subsided into the dark. The group was traveling down a slope, yet the ceiling was slanting faster than the floor, so they could glimpse great stones hanging there. Each one was set in the midst of many layers of circular carvings overhead.

Every few moments, they would pass from one shore of light into a fathomless dark where they could not see, only hear their comrades. Their world was blue, then green, then yellow – thankfully, never red. At last, they reached a massive bronze door.

“She’s in here,” said Timon – he looked especially small beside its towering form.

The emerald light made him look thin, too; almost emaciated.

The fur on his cloak looks awfully out of place, Cedwyn thought.

“Thanks, kid,” Jace said easily. “We owe you one.”

Striding forward, Jace Dabriel examined the door critically. A circular indentation stood in its center; wild, ridged spirals emanated from it like heat waves roiling an imagined plain. They looked serpentine, almost hungry. Jace shook his head a little.

“Now, uh ... how do we get in there?”

“Knock,” Timon said with another shrug. “Works for the rest of us.”

With that, he darted down a side tunnel—

“Thanks again,” Jace called after, and his own voice answered him back in echo: AGAIN!

Again.

Again.

Relic was leaning over, examining the carvings.

Flaming letters leapt out of the darkness behind his eyelids, demanding his attention.

“I think I know what it wants,” said Relic. “Jace, do you still have that jadeite necklace?”

“Yeah,” Jace said, producing it from his cloak with a flick of the wrist. Holding it low in his palm, he let his eyes rise slowly from it to Relic. At first, it seemed like he would ask for clarification; then, he noticed what the other Outrider already had.

He placed the stone within the round divot at the center of the door.

It was the sun—

Instantly, the door began to glow.

Beyond was a great, round chamber lit from within by a pure, golden light.

Each wall was covered floor to ceiling with a mural so vibrant the pigment could still be wet. A temple crowned with golden domes and surrounded by a thousand stairs stood in one corner, and from it flowed a mighty river.

An army was camped where the river bent—

There were hundreds of figures; their leaders stood astride the river like giants, while the others receded and receded until they were no taller than a fingernail. Yet, from the mightiest to the smallest, each helmet was worked with magnificent care and detail.

The horde bristled with weapons, each different in their length, shape, balance—

Each muscle in the men’s shoulders; each curve in the women’s cloaks; the strength and subtlety of their hands; all as if the memory of some lost god had been frozen in place. Like the night sky, details emerged unbidden with each moment of concentration.

There was more to see in every corner, in every line.

For a few seconds they were lost in it; Isabelle was the first to realize that the tale continued behind their backs, but she didn’t turn to see the rest. For, in that single discordant instant, she had noticed something else: There was a woman sitting there.

Isabelle let out a sharp whistle that drew the others’ attention to the spot.

They hadn’t even seen her at first, for she was perched on what resembled an altar. In the strange light – no source of it could be found wherever their eyes roamed – she had seemed like a statue: Her long locks blazed like the burnished bronze behind them.

Her dress and her cloak were simple, the hood drawn back.

But there was something magnificent about her that words could not—

She opened her eyes.

“It’s you,” whispered Relic. Cedwyn drew his crossbow and waited.

The lady’s violet gaze fell on Relic, but she spoke to all of them.

“It’s a pleasure to finally see you all in person,” she started; then closed her eyes a while more, as if rising slowly out of a deep sleep. “Permit me to introduce myself ... the name’s Jaden ...” Now, she looked to Jace. “And I don’t like being called The Savior.”

A small smile found its way to her lips and Relic matched it.

“Not any more than the rest of you do.”

Now Cedwyn lowered his weapon – a little.

Jaden smiled brightly at the concession.

“Would you care for a drink?” she asked.

“You’re one of them,” Jace said bluntly, stepping forward a pace.

Relic sputtered, but Dabriel ignored him; his hard gaze was on the woman.

Jaden raised her hands in a calming gesture but did not move an inch more.

“You received orders to divert from your path and come here to Sandia, did you not? I’m your contact here – I can prove Thean entrusted me with the rest of your orders.”

“I’d like to see that,” Jace said bitterly.

“Of course, Outrider Knight must be willing to refrain from turning me into a pincushion.”

Jace raised his hand to signal Cedwyn, who at last put his crossbow away.

“Jace, you’ve got to listen to me. This woman, I sa—”

“Rope it in, Relic,” Jace whispered. He glanced to the side, but didn’t shift his face. “You know what? This town looks like something sucked it dry. Now, we find this woman here ... with all these stones ... and that one there—” Jace pointed to the jadeite around her neck. “—behind a door that opens to the enemy. Anyone disagree with any of that?”

Nobody spoke.

Jace let himself look to each Outrider in turn, and then to Jaden herself—

Whose wry look was you got me there in pantomime.

“I wouldn’t put any of this past Thean – but I’m gonna take some convincing.”

Jace thought on, the others drawn closer by the dangerous quiet in his voice.

“And it better not take too long.”

“I assure you it won’t,” Jaden said gently.

“Can you guys do me a favor and go out?” Jace asked, and somehow Cedwyn and Isabelle knew he was talking to them. Between Outriders, even the merest shift in inflection made it clear which one was being addressed. “In case the door closes.”

“Yeah,” said Cedwyn – and after the briefest pause, Isabelle followed him out.

“I want answers, Miss Jaden.”

“It’s Jaden. Just Jaden. Titles are for those who don’t know who they are.”

Her final words followed Isabelle and Cedwyn as they took up their post.

You shall have them, her voice said in his mind. Your answers. Perhaps your titles, too.

And then the door did close. Jace and Relic heard a shout, a muffled thud—

And then silence. They were as alone as they had ever been. With a wizard.

“Your enemy has been here, but it isn’t me,” Jaden said.

“We should kill you,” Jace said. “But we need you to open the door. Well played.”

“No, Jace,” Relic said. “For god’s sake, listen to me—”

Now, at last, Jace turned slowly to Relic.

“I’ve seen this woman. On that night. Out on the road. She wasn’t with them.”

“That so?” said Jace. “She seems to have made a pretty big impression on you.”

“Without her, I wouldn’t have come back. Neither of us would have.”

“Where’s your report on that?”

Relic slowly raised his hand and tapped his right temple. Jace let out a grunt.

“Right in here,” Relic said.

“Alright,” Jace said slowly as he regarded Jaden. “I’ll listen to your story, but unless you’ve got Fenlow Thean stuffed in that little ...” He gestured irritably to the altar. “... box ... thing of yours, I don’t see how you can make this look like anything but a trap.”

“Come closer.”

Jace grimaced. He looked at Relic, who nodded curtly—

Jace took a step to the side, giving tacit permission, and Relic went up to her.

When his foot was on the first step to the altar, Jaden reached underneath it and handed something down: A sheaf of papers. Relic compulsively straightened them, stopping short when he heard the rank crinkling of age. He looked them over—

“What is it, Relic? The drink menu?”

He started to thumb through them—

“The abridged version, Rel.”

“They’re the missing pages – pages torn out of Thean’s logbook. From ... decades ago.”

“He gave them to me for safekeeping, so others wouldn’t reproduce his findings.” Relic jolted, unspoken questions in his eyes as she continued to speak. “And so that, if this day came, you would know without doubt we had been in contact.”

“Seems like a lot of trouble to go to,” Jace mused, but he sounded more thoughtful now.

“Let’s be honest,” Jaden said, letting a little humor into her voice. “If I’d handed you a sealed letter from General Creed, would you think it was anything other than a forgery?”

Jace mimicked her wry expression from before: You got me there.

“You have our orders?” Relic interrupted, gripping the pages with white-knuckled intensity now. Even as he looked up, he couldn’t keep himself from thumbing the edges.

“Yes,” Jaden said. “But first – and foremost – we must depart Sandia.” She closed her eyes again, thinking. “Not now. As soon as the sun is below the horizon. We don’t want to be here if what happened to Sandia tries to happen to us.”

Jace widened his eyes in wry anticipation, his mouth set in a grim line.

“And what exactly did happen here, Jaden?”

Instinctively, Cedwyn drew his short swords from the crossed sheaths on his back as the door slammed in his face. He banged on it as hard as he could with the pommel of one sword – the hollow thud his efforts returned seemed to mock him.

Solid bronze, inches thick ... like nothing he had heard of outside of stories.

“You might as well be digging the mountain with a spoon,” Isabelle told him.

Their eyes met, and Cedwyn knew she was just as worried as he was.

A crisp crunch by Isabelle’s ear set her to whirl on her heel and finally draw a sword of her own. Later, she would recall the strangeness of the sound: It was nowhere, then all around her, as if she had remembered it in a daydream. But it was very real—

For there, just behind her, was Timon. Eating an apple.

Fine cider apples, she thought; she wasn’t sure why.

The kid was leaning up against the wall, looking up at her with rheumy eyes.

“That’s really loud,” he told Cedwyn around his bite. “They can’t hear you, you know.”

Cedwyn did not seem to hear; he was reeling an arm back to slam on the door again—

When Isabelle punched him on that arm just hard enough to get his attention.

“What do you mean they can’t hear it?” Isabelle said. “They’re just on the other side.”

“When did he get here?” Cedwyn asked.

Neither Timon nor Isabelle gave even the slightest acknowledgement of the question.

“I mean that’s a magic door. Can’t you tell?” He paused and took another bite. This time, even with the lack of Cedwyn’s banging, it didn’t sound as loud. “Why, don’t they teach you Outriders anything these days?” he asked with a snicker.

“Does this make any sense to you?” Isabelle asked Cedwyn without turning to him.

“No,” Cedwyn answered quickly, staring at the boy over her shoulder.

Timon looked back at him as if sensing he wanted to ask more—

“Okay. So why is there a magic door all the way down under here?”

“Can you think of a better place for it?” the kid asked, pointing with a backward nod of his head to indicate it. “It’s all to protect Jaden ... it was forged all the way back in Emren, y’know, and brought here by the Beacon Fleet.”

“Bacon Fleet?” Cedwyn asked.

“Beacon,” the boy corrected primly. “Came outta the same forges as the statue you woulda passed on your way in. Though, there’s no way they coulda come at the same time, least not the way I remember it ... like I said, it was—”

“Forever ago. We got it.” Isabelle crinkled her nose a little. “Protecting her from what?”

“She doesn’t need protecting from us,” Cedwyn went on. “If that’s what you’re trying to say. And it wasn’t her idea to have us wait out here. It was─”

“One of yours?” The boy let out a mischievous sort of chuckle. “Yeah, this ain’t the first time they’ve met, so I’m sure one of them came up with the idea.”

“Jace and Relic?” she asked.

“Or Noah and Cade, as you guys call them,” said the kid, squinting. “Sometimes.”

Cedwyn spun his short swords and reached back to sheathe them again in a deft, effortless motion. Then he laid a hand on Isabelle’s shoulder. She didn’t react, but he knew she found comfort in it; if she hadn’t, she would let him know.

“Actually,” he said. “Those are the highly classified call signs our military chain of command calls them … but, hey, you know … whatever.”

At this, Isabelle and Cedwyn exchanged the briefest of glances, and Cedwyn dropped his hand from her shoulder as she faced forward again.

Timon shrugged.

“Yeah, she knows all that. That’s why I do, too. Creed told her ... most of it.

He contemplated that thought for a moment or two, looking up, closing one eye.

“She likes him.”

“Excuse me?” Cedwyn said, baffled; Isabelle covered her mouth with two fingers.

“Well, you know,” said Timon, as if it was a matter better left alone. His expression turned somber. “She doesn’t talk about him much, though. Nah, it’s all about those two guys ...” He rolled a shoulder as if to indicate Jace and Relic. “The Dark Horses.”

“What does she said about them?” Isabelle asked gently; Timon’s eyes pivoted her way.

“Just that it’s ‘cause of them everything else has a chance of happening. That’s all.”

The two Outriders shared a look, now no longer caring if Timon saw it.

“A few minutes back you thought we were myths,” Cedwyn said carefully.

“Yeah,” Timon, he said, serious expression breaking in a gap-toothed grin; he had several teeth still to come in, and Isabelle couldn’t help grinning at the sight. “Well, I had never actually seen one of you before. ‘cause of the Republic bein’ dead out here and all.”

“Excuse me?” Cedwyn repeated, more sharply this time; Isabelle shot him a glance.

“Oh, you know,” said the kid, biting his apple with another resounding crunch. “Around here you have to do it all yourself. You four are real lucky that way.” He cocked his head to the side, then looked off into the distance as if something had caught his attention. “Real lucky. You better not take that for granted.”

With a loud bang, the door flew open and the Outriders turned toward it.

You don’t know how fast it can all disappear, said Timon’s voice, barely a whisper.

When they turned back to where Timon had been standing, there was nothing there.

Only an apple core that, by the looks of it, might have been sitting there for days.

“Did you hear that?” Isabelle asked at loud, her gaze fixed on the rotting fruit.

“Yeah.” He patted her shoulder and waited until she turned to face him. “This isn’t the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen, I’ll admit, but it’s up there.”

Isabelle raised her eyebrows.

“This place is creeping me out,” she said, and with that, stepped through the open door. “And if it goes on like this much longer, it will be the weirdest.”

Cedwyn nodded slowly.

“Yeah,” he said again, resigned. “It probably will.”

He followed her in.

Chapter Fifteen  (E) Cavern of Twilight #2190509 by Dan Hiestand