The Crucible of the Dragon God

farking deathtrap she would have been here to help him. She could only hope that the archer wasn't lying dead and frozen in some unmarked mountain grave.

Kali took a deep breath, realising that, while there was nothing she could do for Slowhand, she still had a responsibility to those who had accompanied her. If she, Aldrededor and Dolorosa were to follow the map she had found to its ultimate destination they were going to need more than Surprise Stew butties to keep them alive. There was a chance, perhaps, that, if they were packed in anything other than wood, some of the more modern supplies remaining here might be food.

Again, Kali searched. And came upon a number of charred metal boxes bearing the symbol of a crossed circle. Well, if there had been any doubt that Jenna and the Final Faith had been here, that was now dispelled. Kali broke the seal on one, stared, and laughed.

The supplies belonged to the Final Faith, all right. Who else would bring wafers and wine to the mountains?

But it was something. It didn't take Kali long to make her way back to the cave and she was actually quite looking forward to breakfasting on the alcohol, but then she stopped suddenly.

Something was wrong.

The place was too quiet.

And Aldrededor and Dolorosa were gone.

Kali entered the camp slowly, looking for any sign of her companions — or worse, what might have taken them. But there were no tracks. She moved over to the campfire, found it recently rekindled, then felt the cups the ex-pirates must have been drinking from. The liquid inside was still warm. In this temperature, that likely meant that whatever had happened here had happened in the past few minutes. But there was no sign of anything untoward.

There was, however, the slightest of sudden noises. It came from a previously unnoticed passage towards the rear of the cave and occurred at exactly the same time as Kali's sixth sense alerted her to the fact that something was wrong. She was about to unsling her crackstaff when the slight pfft she'd heard was followed immediately by a sting on the side of her neck.

Kali raised her hand, felt a tiny needle embedded there.

And then, her eyes glazed and, her body stiff as a board, she fell face down onto Dolorosa and Aldrededor's empty furs.

Chapter Twelve

' Unka-chakka-unka-chakka-oh-oh-oh !'

Unka-chakka-unka-chakka-oh-oh-oh !

The chanting came from beyond the passage that led from the cave, loud and then soft, loud and then soft; never ceasing. The only visible signs of those responsible for the ominous mantra were the grotesquely misshapen shadows that loomed and rippled across the rough passage wall. Sometimes the shadows loomed so large that it seemed their owners were about to enter the cave, but then they dwindled once more, the only other activity the occasional burst of shadowboxing — perhaps jostling, perhaps some altercation — but, whatever their cause, they never lasted for long.

What did last was the gnawing and grunting that could be heard beneath the chanting.

And the smell of roasting flesh.

' Unka-chakka-unka-chakka-oh-oh-oh !

Unka-chakka-unka-chakka-oh-oh-oh !'

Yes, yes, all right, enough already! Kali thought. Will you please, for just one farking minute, shut up

She sighed heavily, and rattled the chains that bound her. She reckoned it had been about eight hours since the sting on her neck, and it was only now that the effects of whatever the tiny dart had been coated with were starting to wear off. Starting, mind, because although her paralysis had gone it had left her feeling distinctly betwattled. A condition she was not unfamiliar with but would have preferred to have enjoyed slumped in the Flagons rather than here, chained to a pillar and dressed in nothing but three strategically draped strips of animal hide. It was a development she had to admit had caught her a tad by surprise. Steaming pits of bloody Kerberos, it could only happen to her.

A sacrificial virgin!

Kali pouted.

Okay, then, sacrificial… offering.

Where the hells was she? Who were these people? And most of all, why was she dressed in this stupid, farking costume?

She frowned. The fact was, there were other, more serious questions. Specifically, what had happened to Aldrededor and Dolorosa? There was no doubt that the couple had been captured with her because she had caught glimpses of them, by her side, slung beneath the same kind of pole on which she herself had been tied and carried here. Those glimpses had been fleeting and utterly random, however, as her inability to move her eyes, let alone the rest of her body, during the enforced journey had left her with no choice but to see only what the twists, turns and ups and downs of her unexpected excursion had thrust before her frozen eyes. It hadn't helped that she had been lapsing in and out of consciousness, also.

What she did remember was that their captors seemed to have taken them higher into the mountains, and that the route had begun in the passage at the rear of the cave where they had sheltered. From there on in, it had become confusing — one minute exposed on the mountainside, the next travelling through rock, snatches of fur-hooded faces leering in both the light and the dark — leaving her with the impression that, far from being deserted as she had thought, the Drakengrats were riddled with a warren of caves and tunnels which were clearly inhabited. She remembered wondering whether she was in the hands of ogur, but then ogur would hardly dress her in a skimpy outfit as it would only stick in their teeth when they ate her. Besides, ogur would have downed her with club not dart, and she would have been in no position to wonder anything at all.

Also, her captors didn't smell anywhere near as bad — let's face it, nothing did. They just smelled… odd, actually.

Kali looked about the cave, gleaning what she could about her captors. Various skulls and other pieces of skeleton were hung on the walls. Animal skins were draped across the floor and littered across them were various implements and tools, bowls, cups and the like, all of which appeared to have been carved from bone. One thing was immediately clear. Everything here was designed or scaled for human use, though she had never come across a human settlement as primitive as this. What were they doing here in the Drakengrats, and why was their culture so stagnated? It was as if nothing had changed here since the days of Thunderlungs Cry.

She needed answers — especially if these people knew anything about the Crucible — and she wasn't going to get them bound to this farking pillar. Again, Kali rattled her chains, pulling with wrists and ankles to test for signs of weakness, but all her struggles achieved was to dislodge the strips of hide from where they had been strategically placed and, cursing, she tried to jiggle them back. As she did, the chanting from the other cave suddenly stopped, and she snapped a look at the passage. Shadows loomed again, and this time they didn't go away

'Shit' she said, and jiggled harder.

She succeeded just in time. Four figures dressed in skins entered the cave and stood in silence by the passage, just staring at her. She could barely make them out, silhouetted as they were, but they appeared to be human from what she could see. Human, if a little on the beefy side.

Kali swallowed, thinking: One step and, I promise, you will regret it.

The figures did not move towards her. Instead, a moment later, they stood aside to allow the entrance of a fifth figure — one who was more surreally dressed than they. It wore a loincloth, a plethora of dangling fetishes and, worst of all, a mask that covered its head and shoulders and made its upper half resemble that of an exploded chicken.