Ecko Rising

defenceless –”

“But Roviarath isn’t,” Redlock said. “We’ll never catch them on foot, they’re too fast and there are too many of them – it’s not like the city won’t see them coming.”

“The horses can’t have got that far!”

“Triq will you focus! Larred Jade’s a smart man, he’s got time. The Fayre’s population can shelter in the city – and Syke’ll see them too.” As the creatures loped away into the darkness, he stood up, gauging their speed. “I need you here.”

“Why?” Triq spared him a look that shredded the skin on his face. “What the rhez are you going to do?”

“If he’s gonna fuck your city,” Ecko commented, “he’ll blow it to charcoal spikes. We passed a township? It’s like a crater.”

“Maybe he doesn’t have that kind of power,” Tarvi told him. “Maybe he’s still massing. We have to go down – !”

“Stop bickering, the lot of you.” The axeman rounded on them, his face in shadow and his tousled hair lit to bright flame. “My guess? Whatever’s coming is big enough to wipe Roviarath clean off the map.” He slung his axes crosswise over his shoulders and grinned. “Let’s hit it before it moves, shall we?”

“You’re crazed,” Triqueta said softly.

But Ecko was cackling like a fiend. Apparently, he was gonna be a hero after all.

* * *

From the top of the lifeless bank, the Monument’s light twisting the colours of his back, Ecko tracked the devastation.

He was showing off, getting a kick out of his superior abilities. Yeah, he knew it – and he didn’t care.

So it’s fucking childish. You know what?

The grass was scorched, right down to its roots: the creatures’ feet had left scars in the soil.

Their wake of destruction stretched like a runway towards the horizon. He watched the receding beasties, tracking their speed.

Fuck, they were fast.

He turned and caught sight of the centaur – both ribcages were ripped open and local critters were dining in style.

Scratch one McNasty.

He kept looking.

“There’s a scarp, ’bout a klick from here, must be the exit point.” He scrabbled down the bank. “Not guarded, but could be beasties under the drop. Now, who’s got sixty feet of rope?”

Redlock said, “Let’s go.”

They moved, slipping through the grass like rats through garbage.

“...From Roviarath.” Behind Ecko, Tarvi spoke softly. “When we found the blasted township... my tan...”

“I hear you.” Redlock’s tone was gentle. “I promise you this: the nightmares will pass. I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but you’ll be all right.”

“We all die – and we all lose people we love,” Triq said. “And the Count of Time heals all things. Live now, look forwards – life’s short.”

“I’m going to find whatever burned that town.” Glancing back, Ecko saw Tarvi’s profile, limned in the Monument’s light as she turned to look at the axeman. The look, the memory, sent a shock through his adrenals – a shock that was unexpected and completely unfamiliar. What the fuck...? “And I’m going to –”

“Boo!” He wasn’t even sure why he’d interrupted them.

“Shit!” Redlock’s axe missed his nose by a nanometre. “You damned...! Don’t do that again!”

Tarvi smothered a chuckle. Triq poked the axeman wickedly in the ribs.

Above them, a rift in the cloud bathed the grass in brilliant gold.

“You’re funny,” Redlock said. “But I’ve no idea who you are, have no reason to trust you – and advise against pulling shit like that again. Tarvi rides from Jade; she bears a pennon.” Tarvi smiled at him. “You – better have damned good reason for being out here.”

“I felt like a vacation.” His grin was merciless. “Trust me or don’t – that’s your fucking problem.” He blinked. “Let’s get the hell on with this.”

“We’re in this together now, Ecko, all of us.” Tarvi laid a hand on Redlock’s arm. Again, the unfamiliar adrenaline spiked. “I’ve heard of you, Faral ton Gattana – who hasn’t? We have to do this thing.”

Redlock said, “I work alone. Triq’s an old friend.”

“Then stick ten paces behind me and, if anyone asks, we’re goin’ the same way.” Ecko’s black eyes were expressionless. “I’ll save some bad guys for ya.”

“Will you two pack it in?” Triqueta was watching the way the beasties had gone. “My family are out there,” she said. “They’re under threat – and I’m here with you idiots. Syke’ll be in a lot deeper horseshit if we don’t sort this now.” She threw a glance over her shoulder. “Let’s find this sonofamare.”

“Well, whaddaya know,” Ecko said, his black grin broadening. “The adventure that started in the tavern ends with the fuckin’ underground maze. The big bad guy? He’ll be right in the basement – along with the flatscreens and the white goods.”

Triq said, “What the rhez are you talking about?”

“He does that,” Tarvi told her. “You’ll get used to it. Sometimes I think he’s seen all of this before.”

“No fucking shit.” Keeping his cackle to himself, Ecko slipped back to the scarp.

* * *

“Abandon Hope, All Ye...”

The short climb was an easy one; the moons had fought through all but the thinnest cloud and handholds and outcrops were plentiful. With his cloak tucked back, Ecko reached the base in moments and peered into the rift. The air was blood warm, it tasted like all kinds of wrong.

His heatseeker picked out the breadcrumbs – touches of fading warmth still clung to the rock, char marks like handprints. They showed the passage of the departing beasties – and the route into the maze.

Easier to follow than a ball of fucking string.

Nothing else moved.

Faintly disappointed at the lack of door-guard grunts, Ecko loosed his cloak and went into the cave mouth.

Here, goblins. Heeeeeere, goblins, goblins.

The floor was uneven, the narrow walls had protrusions that caught his elbows. There was a tall space over his head, as if the triangular crack in the cliff face simply stretched backwards into the stone, but the passageway itself was tight.

Comfortingly so.

At last, the arch of sky was gone from over his head, the endless wind in his ears had ceased. In the sudden quiet, they were cold and they sang with imagined sounds. Ecko found himself breathing relief, his shoulders falling. He hadn’t even been aware of the tension until he’d let it go.

Walls. Ceiling. Stone. It wasn’t quite the old underground south of the river, but fuck was that better.

“What do you see?” Redlock was right behind him.

“Dark. Little patches of heat that say ‘bad guys went this-a-way’. How come there’s no beasties, no traps, no door?”

“No one comes out here,” Tarvi said softly. “Why would they leave the trade-roads – they’ve got everything they want. They don’t care about a load of broken rocks; they care about the grass harvest and the terhnwood flow, whether they can trade for a luxury this halfcycle. There’s only the taer, and few remember that.”

“Some things,” Ecko commented, “just don’t fucking change.”

He flicked out his heatseeker.

And saw there was light.

It was so faint, he could almost have imagined it. It danced broken, refracted and reflected from something he couldn’t see – something below the level of the steadily descending floor. If he looked up, minute echoes played in the crack over his head, stalactites – or were they the other ones? – had an edge of glitter, like amethyst