From the brushing sounds, I assumed that Kesyn was straightening his layers of robes and whatnot. “We don’t know that,” he said. “All we know for sure is that
Our assumption was all that was safe right now; we sure weren’t.
Kesyn just stood there, listening to me panic. “Would you like some light?” he eventually asked.
“That would be helpful.”
I waited. No light.
“Well, basilisk balls,” Kesyn said mildly.
I tensed. “What is it? Or what
“Magic doesn’t work. Must be a dampening ward around this cell.” He paused. “Nice job, actually.”
“Glad you’re impressed with their work ethic.” My voice was starting to shake right along with the rest of me.
I heard Kesyn fumbling around in his robes.
“If you have to take another whiz, old man, get away from me.”
“Nope, saving that for a special occasion.” More fumbling. “Let’s see if I still have… Yes, I always carry spares.”
I snorted. “A flask?” Though I wouldn’t mind a stiff belt right now.
“That, too.”
A spark flared to life in front of me, moving vigorously up and down. It was one of Kesyn’s light marbles, activated by shaking, which was what he was doing to it. The light confirmed what my hands had already told me: small cell, high ceiling that was mostly a hole soaring up into darkness, and no apparent door in any of the four walls. There had to be one. Why go to the trouble to bait a trapdoor without any way to extract your prize? That was what the two of us would be. Prizes.
Kesyn moved to the center of the cell and tossed the small green light up into the shaft. A sharp pop and sizzle later, we were dusted with glowing green remains of a destroyed light marble.
Kesyn gave a low whistle. “Nasty ass wards.”
I couldn’t see the old goblin take a bite out of his never-ending chunk of cheese, but I sure smelled it.
“Well, we won’t be climbing out the same way we fell in,” he noted. “That’s okay; I’ve got more.” He found another light marble in his pocket and shook it up.
Silence. Still no shouts from above. If Mychael and Tam were trying to blast or pound their way through that floor to get to us, I couldn’t hear it. Unless they were too busy fighting for their lives against whoever had been wearing those boots running after Kesyn.
“Who was chasing you?” I asked.
“Temple guards.”
“And?”
“Some black mages.”
“How many are ‘some’?”
“More than a few.”
Damnation.
Mychael and Tam could fight more than a few, and hopefully the mages among the prisoners they’d just freed would still be able to put up a decent fight after being in that cell for who knew how long.
“Could you tell how strong those Khrynsani mages were?”
“You don’t get to be a black mage by being a magical ninety-pound weakling,” Kesyn snapped. “I didn’t stop and ask for their qualifications.”
I blew out the first decent breath I’d managed to get. “Sorry.”
Kesyn grunted. I took that as manspeak for “no problem.”
“Where do you think we are?” I asked. “Besides up shit creek without a paddle?”
“This is the Khrynsani temple. This whole place is shit creek. Up, down, doesn’t matter where. I’d say we’re in a cell.”
“No kidding.”
“Judging from the padded floor, they wanted whoever tripped that trap up there to live, at least for a while.”
I did a quick exploration. The cell was as small as our voices made it sound, only five paces in any direction. The walls were rough-hewn rock. I reached as far as I could over my head and didn’t feel anything other than air, though we knew only too well that there was a hole big enough for us to have fallen through and not have left bits and pieces of ourselves along the way.
I moved in close to the old guy and tried to ignore the stinky cheese. I kept my voice to a bare whisper and counted on Kesyn’s goblin ears to hear me. “If Sarad Nukpana had set the trap, he knew only a null could trip it. We got caught. He knows you pack plenty of magical mojo, but I was the one on the floor, picking at the insides of that gearbox—”
Kesyn was shaking his head while chewing cheese; I was trying to breathe through my mouth. “Sarad couldn’t have known we were here until you kids attacked the guard desk on the first level. Cyran Nathrach had to have been moved before that; the same time that trap would have been set.”
“Then who was Tam’s dad bait for?”
Kesyn gave me a meaningful look. “Who indeed?”
I froze. “Deidre?”
“Or Nath. Or both. Neither have any magic, and both would risk themselves to free Cyran.”
“If so, that means they’re in the temple,” I said. “And from what I could see, they weren’t in that cell with Cyran and the others.” I didn’t exactly feel a spark of hope, more like a damp sputter, but Deidre did strike me as the kind of woman who would finish anything she started. She’d shot one hole in Sarad Nukpana tonight already. Perhaps she and Nath were lurking around here thinking that the second time would be the charm.
I grinned. Oh yeah, that’d be charming as hell. Maybe I could get a better seat for the show this time.
“Regardless of who that hole in the floor was meant for,” Kesyn said, “thanks to you, Cyran Nathrach is out of that hellhole and so are some of our best mages and fighters. Better still, those boys and girls didn’t look happy. And Mychael, Tam, and that scrawny elf cadet of yours are plenty pissed now that you’re down here and they’re up there. I wouldn’t want to be in the first pack of Khrynsani to run into them.” He started running his hands along the walls. “No wards here. They’re probably outside wherever the door to this box is.”
I hoped Mychael and Tam weren’t wasting any time hunting for us. With those prisoners freed, they could get up to the temple altar and get the job done. That was all that mattered. Save yourselves. Destroy the rock.
Then I remembered something.
I frantically patted myself down. When I felt the Scythe of Nen still nestled near my waist, I froze in horror. “I’ve still got it.”
“Got what?”
I scurried over to him and hissed in a whisper, “I have the freaking dagger.”
“What freaking dagger?”
“
“Oh.” Kesyn’s eyes widened as realization sunk in. “
“Mychael’s the only one left free to destroy the Saghred,” I said in a strangled whisper. “Now he can’t.”
And I’d asked him to give it to me, insisted actually. Because I wanted to be useful; I wanted to free myself. Great job I was doing of that. I viciously kicked at whatever the damned floor was made of. I couldn’t be any more useless than I was right now. Mychael hadn’t just gotten himself captured by Sarad Nukpana—at least I hoped not. I had. Here I stood, caught, caged, and probably about to have my weapons confiscated. The Scythe of Nen wasn’t big, but it wasn’t small, either. And without it, our mission was history—and so were we.
Kesyn leaned over to whisper in my ear. “Certain ladies in our secret service have often made good use of a hidden pocket in the front of their armor, right about here.” He tapped his fingers over his heart and grinned.
I looked down to where that would be on me. Right over my left breast.
I just looked at him. “And you know this how?”
Kesyn winked at me. “Extensive research and exploration in my younger days.”
