Date: Mon, 31 Oct 2016 01:31:34 +0000
From: Michael Offutt <kavrik@hotmail.com>
Subject: Chapter 42-The Orb of Winter-Gay Science Fiction

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				   *****

			     Chapter Forty-Two

   Kian was fatigued.
   A day of combat, sexual tension, and exhaustive ritual had left him
physically and emotionally depleted. He'd been groped, manhandled, licked,
and even penetrated by tongue, but had somehow managed not to be raped or
forced to fuck anyone. In his eyes, he remained loyal to the two boys he'd
promised his body to tomorrow night. They might not see it that way, and so
Kian resolved to not tell them. But life as a full-blown Timeron knight was
not his calling, and all of that oath swearing made him feel very
uncomfortable. The gods, least of all the Queen of Demons, probably did not
take kindly to liars. He was living on borrowed time, and he didn't know
how much longer he could pretend to be someone he wasn't.
   This other persona he'd embraced filled him with conflicts. Kian wanted
desperately to run away. After all, running away from his problems had
always worked out well for him in the past. But maybe he just hadn't lived
long enough for things to come full circle.
   "You may just be the biggest tool in the world," Bloodbane said to him
in his mind.
   "Shut up," Kian uttered. "I had no choice."
   "It's funny how that phrase is always on the tip of your tongue,"
Bloodbane said, and then the sword went quiet.
   Is it possible that the Timeron knights are just misunderstood? What the
fuck is happening to me? Kian wondered. Kian wanted to sleep with Valanthe
and Makidon and even Skellhaundar. And he was developing genuine feelings
for Valanthe. No, no, no, no. Markain Kragar warned me of this, Kian
thought. I can't...I just can't.
   It made things so fucking complicated that Kian refused to play out the
most horrific scenario in his mind: having to kill one of them. However,
his sexual advances and flirtatious behaviors had paid off in dividends
that were about to deliver. He knew exactly where they'd moved Ephram, and
how to get him out of the keep without setting off the magical alarms keyed
to an invisible field that blanketed the place. This particular field
checked for only one thing: genuine Timeron knight spurs. Somehow, it was
so clever that it could even tell if they were stolen. However, the spell
didn't cover the dungeons and the interrogation hall. They also didn't
exist in the slave pens or the shadow demon breeding chambers. Ephram had
been put in a dungeon cell, and those supposedly connected to the
underground testing area for the Cataclysm Slayers: magical constructs
created by the Zandans and brought here to look for flaws before being
approved as "battle ready." The testing grounds would be unoccupied
tonight, and they would empty onto the docks of Night's Watch. That's where
the boats arrived to load and unload them in the first place.
   Now, all he had to do was pull off the rescue.
   "I've got to save my friend," he said under his breath. "Eph first."
   Kian glanced at the empty bed where Valanthe would sleep when not on
guard duty and wished he could say goodbye. Kian wasn't sure where Valanthe
was, but he knew he'd be gone until six a.m. This gave him plenty of
opportunity to leave unnoticed and break Ephram out of prison.
   Dressed in his Timeron full plate, Kian left his bedroom and walked down
the torchlit hall in his dormitory as quietly as possible. Still, the
jingle of his minted spurs echoed a little from the stone walls. When he
got to the moonlit athletics yard, Kian stopped to admire how the walls of
the massive keep rose like a granite mountain on all sides. At this hour,
Timeron guards patrolled the top in pairs, torchlight visible through the
huge crenellations.
   Kian crossed as quickly as he could, making sure to move with purpose
yet avoiding "hasty." He didn't want to attract any attention. Once on the
far side, he took a flight of steps into a hallway (and another checkpoint)
where silver moonbeams fell through arrow slits and provided dim
illumination. It made him grin but only briefly. However low the light got,
Kian would never complain. Darkness had always been his companion. The
torches placed only every hundred feet or so seemed to say, "Come on in and
stay a while."
   Smoke trails from the burning pitch had drawn long black shadows on the
walls and ceiling. Kian knew how to disappear into shadows. His body also
lent itself to this activity better than most. He could make himself
invisible but without having to rely upon the use of magic. Kian possessed
a select group of extremely rare and deadly skills; they were worth a
fortune to his true church. They also served him well in the dark places of
the world.
   A group of Timeron knights passed him by while he crouched in an alcove
behind a statue of a Dreadmaster (a cleric of the Queen of Demons). Once
they vanished down the hallway, he crept from his hiding place and sped
along the corridor. He discovered a flight of stairs dressed in lapis
lazuli tiles and descended them to the bottom, spurs making a soft jingle
that couldn't be avoided.
   Kian discovered early in life that the deepest parts of a citadel always
housed the dungeons. No ruler wanted to sacrifice precious light to a
prisoner. In the light, evil could bask in all of its glory and show the
world how it dealt with those that stood against it. With the aid of light,
fear could spread. What sane thing would want to give up that grandiose
stage?
   The floor broadened with corridors that branched out to the great hall
and off to a bailey. He spied several clusters of knights. Kian teleported
beyond them and onto another flight of stairs that lay a little to the
right. Broad stone steps chiseled from the rock of the mountain descended
into the subterranean levels. Steep and narrow, Kian followed them down to
a room at the bottom where a Timeron knight sat with a deck of cards
playing solitaire.
   It was Valanthe. Fuck, Kian thought.
   Valanthe looked up, saw Kian, and said, "What are you doing here? Is
something up?"
   He stood and Kian rushed him, leaping behind Valanthe and gripping him
'round the neck. With his other hand he tore off Valanthe's helmet.
   "Kian!" Valanthe managed to yell. "S-Stop."
   But Kian managed to choke him off, applying pressure to just the right
spots on the young man's head to make him slip unconscious. "Go to sleep,
go to sleep, go to sleep," he whispered delicately in Valanthe's ear.
   "W-Why...are...you...doing...this...?" Valanthe asked, eyes getting
droopy. Slowly, Valanthe's breathing eased and his lips parted. Finally,
his hands fell limp to his sides and his thin body slumped in Kian's strong
arms.
   As gently as he could, Kian set the knight on the ground; checked his
breathing to make sure it was still even and strong. Then he gave Valanthe
a gentle kiss on the lips and whispered, "I'm so sorry, my friend. Forgive
me."
   At Kian's back stood a metal door; he heard incoherent wails emanate
from beyond. He thought it similar to the kind of sound associated with
dungeons and prisoners. Kian checked the handle but it was locked. He
searched Valanthe's body and found a large key ring. One of the keys fit
the lock and Kian opened it. A stench of unwashed bodies, urine, shit, and
death rose up before him. Twenty cells occupied this block, and from what
Kian could tell, each held several human prisoners and an overflowing
bucket of feces. He dragged Valanthe inside, shut the door, and then walked
past the cells. He peered in through small windows in each door and kicked
rats out of the way. The occupants cowered in corners and hid their faces
behind bruised hands. Many hovered so close to death he could see the
specter of the cowled reaper at their shoulder.
   "Come to knock the rest of my teeth out?" Ephram's voice called out from
the darkness.
   Kian stopped in his tracks and peered into the cell. Despite the low
light, he could discern the armored body of a young man with a full shaggy
beard. He had familiar eyes and fair skin, but his nose had been broken so
many times it was bent to the left. He was dirty, swollen, and bruised. His
mouth had been ravaged, blood had congealed on his chin. A thick iron
collar circled his neck, but there was no mistaking Ephram Skye, Crimson
Guard to Beryl Loftcrag. Manacles held his arms incapacitated on the ends
of rods anchored to the wall.
   Kian stepped over to the iron door and said through the window,
"Eph...it's me. Hunter."
   "Hunter?" he asked. "You look like one of 'em. Leave me. I can barely
stand. Save yourself. They moved me down here yesterday. I've a feeling
that it's to die. Instead of saving me, save my friend. That's your
assignment now."
   Kian frowned at the "woe is me" crap but unlocked the door using the
jailor's keys and walked into the cell. "You can lean on me if needed. Tell
me...are you in pain?"
   Ephram looked up helplessly at him. "Pain? What's that? Everything hurts
to high heaven."
   Kian gnashed his teeth together and unlocked Ephram's chains. "Here,
take my hand."
   Ephram did as Kian bid him do and stood on wobbly legs. "My captor broke
my leg and then used magic to heal it. Then he broke me again. This
happened often enough, I'm surprised I have the strength to stand. As you
can see, I've a permanent limp now."
   It almost looked to Kian that Ephram had a one inch difference between
his right and left leg, and he indeed possessed an odd gait. Furthermore,
Ephram wore all his equipment, although he'd shit himself several
times. And it looked like they'd not allowed him to remove his armor to do
so. Perhaps the most shocking thing was how dented Ephram's armor
appeared. Corobidian was notoriously strong, but this armor had been
pounded over and over by something until whatever it was managed to dent it
in several places. Kian thought that it probably hurt to wear this metal
shell now.
   "You look awful," Kian said. "But I have Henna standing by outside the
walls of this place. She'll fix you up, I'm sure."
   Ephram followed him out of the cell. But when he saw Valanthe breathing
peacefully on the ground, he stopped to draw his sword. "Timeron scum! Give
Taleta my best wishes!" Ephram said, limping over to Valanthe.
   Kian rushed over and caught Ephram's arm as he brought his sword down to
kill Valanthe. Then he threw him up against the bars like a rag doll. "No!
He's helpless. Leave him alone."
   "He's not fucking helpless, Hunter!" He's a deadly killer. He and that
bastard Skellhaundar Romax did this to me!" Ephram opened his mouth to show
him all the missing teeth. In fact, it was easy to see that Eph probably
had only three or four teeth left in his entire head. "Now stand aside!"
   Kian stood his ground. "You harm one hair on his head, and I'll kill
you. Now come on, leave Valanthe alone."
   "Valanthe? My god, do you even hear yourself? Is he your mate?"
   Kian swallowed uncomfortably and just stared at Ephram through the
helmet.
   "Fuck," Ephram said. "He is your mate. How?"
   "Let's just go. He's going to be asleep for hours. By the time he wakes
up, we'll be long gone."
   "I don't believe this," Ephram declared. "You're a traitor!"
   "I'm not," Kian insisted. "I work for you, and I'll accomplish all the
things you need me to do. But Valanthe doesn't need to die, Eph. He's a boy
under a lot of pressure. Let's just go."
   "No," Ephram said. "No fucking way." He raised his weapon again, and
Kian struck Ephram so hard it knocked him out. Unfortunately, it also
dislodged some of Ephram's remaining molars.
   "Tethyr's teeth," Kian swore. "What a mess."
   Kian grimaced and scooped Ephram over his shoulder, sword and all, and
walked him to the end of the hallway. Prisoners (who couldn't see him but
heard the conversation) called out from their cells with "release us" and
"we'll show you the way out." But Kian refused to stop until he got to the
exit. Checking to make sure it wasn't guarded on the far side, he instead
found a stairwell down and took it all the way to the bottom (several
flights of stairs). He'd hoped that Ephram would have been conscious for
this to help him read the signs on the wall. As it were, Kian just made his
best guess, and followed a picture of some monstrous creature painted on
the wall that looked like a six-armed woman with a serpentine tail. It was
placed next to a white arrow.
   I sure hope that's the Cataclysm Slayer training ground, Kian
thought. It looks like the one I destroyed outside Mon Yaska.
   Kian came to a stop at a door with a large intricate lock set within
it. None of the keys on his keyring would work. So, he set Ephram down and
wiped the sweat from his brow with his hand. Kian blinked his
eyes. Concentrate, he told himself. He examined the intricate lock with the
other. A moan (in the meantime) emanated from Ephram's lips.
   Kian sighed, crouched and fingered the lock, gingerly poking at it with
the tips of his gauntleted fingers. He opened the pommel of Bloodbane and
removed a pouch that contained fine lock picks. He chose two of them and
inserted them into the lock, turned his head to the side, and listened to
the tumblers. "It's a Noremarian Xenocipher," he said to no one in
particular.
   "I don't know what that is," Bloodbane replied.
   He grimaced because picking the lock required special care. "It's a
really popular lock on the market right now. The Xenocipher has a system of
unusual tumblers that require specific grooves on the key, just like any
other lock. However, some of the tumblers are made to interact only with
bone and not metal so the key would be a thing comprised of two materials."
   "How does the lock know the difference between bone and some other
material?" Bloodbane asked.
   "A magical enchantment used to detect organic tissue. A spell that opens
doors wouldn't work on this lock. Magical spells of that nature have all
been designed to affect locks made from steel." He withdrew one of the
picks and switched it out for another.
   "So you can't get it open?" Bloodbane asked.
   "I didn't say that. I use a special tool. This slender pick I just
grabbed is made from the spine of a dowel fish. They're expensive and break
easily. But I'm skilled as they come. The chance of breaking the tool is
extremely slim." Kian jiggled the tools in the lock and felt a tumbler
slide out of place. "I think I've almost got it." Then with an audible
click, the lock unlatched and fell into his palm.
   Kian scooped Ephram up and then opened the door to go through. Once on
the far side of the door, he closed it tight once more. He saw a corridor
lit with a torch, but the golden halo it threw seemed small in comparison
to the size of the hall in which they stood. Another at its terminus burned
in a sconce some hundred feet away. These two light sources provided the
only illumination. The ceiling lay above them another forty feet. He could
barely make out any detail in the flickering amber flame from either
torch. Huge blocks of stone comprised the floor and the walls.
   Kian closed the visor to his helmet.
   On the left side of the broad hallway, he found a stairwell about
fifteen feet wide that cut into the floor and descended into the
basement. It had been fashioned broad enough to accommodate five men in
full plate armor that carried shields and marched side-by-side down the
stairs.  On the walls, Kian spied tapestries made from black, silver, gold,
crimson, and white thread. He knew enough to realize that these scenes had
religious significance. They featured elaborate battles, armies of undead,
demons, and even the birthing of an Ogavran Kor hatchling, one of the
fabled Snowmen of Vas. Kian shuddered at the all too realistic image of a
woman whose belly had distended and swollen to an unnatural size. The poor
woman's skin had become transparent. She glowed from the hateful unholy
creature that tore through her flesh to emerge into the world as an
eyeless, tentacled abomination.
   "Ogavran Kor," Ephram murmured. "An entire legion of Nykorans from
Necrosipor were destroyed by a full grown one." he uttered.
   "Good to see that you're awake," Kian said, setting Ephram down on his
feet.
   "No thanks to you," Ephram declared. He raised a finger to his mouth; it
came away wet with blood.
   "As for the Ogavran Kor, let's hope that the world of men never has
cause to see another," Kian stated. "Come on." From somewhere down below
emanated a clanking sound. Kian knew from experience that only metal on
metal could produce such a din, and it grew louder with every downward
step. He descended the stairs to the bottom with Ephram tripping along
behind, obviously still dizzy from Kian's punch. The torch drew a pool of
golden light at the base of the steps where the corridor of stone continued
into a damp tunnel.
   Up ahead, the hall broadened to a long rectangular chamber.
   Kian measured it to be sixty-feet wide and one-hundred feet long. The
floor and ceiling were done in a checkerboard pattern with randomly
positioned red and black squares. Some were adjacent and some diagonal to
each other. From out of the black squares erupted columns of steel that
slammed into each other at varying heights with little to no delay. It was
a second at most from when the columns first erupted and then collided
together. A moment later, they parted and withdrew back into the floor and
ceiling. Their timing also seemed to be random.
   I need to stay to the red squares, Kian thought. But his sensitive skin
detected heat emanating from one of the red squares, and it flowed unbroken
from floor to ceiling. He decided to examine it closer, extending his hand
ever so cautiously. After a moment, he realized that he was looking at an
invisible column of flame.
   Although his armor should protect him fully from electricity (because
corobidian was superconductive and the armor was insulated), flames would
boil him like a lobster within its shell.
   "Cataclysm Slayers possess a strong immunity to flame and to physical
damage. A properly functioning one could have chosen either path across the
board and been safe. This test would have allowed the engineers that forged
them to measure their agility while they looked for weaknesses in design,"
Ephram said, breathing heavily.
   "Thank you captain obvious," Kian said.
   "You had that body language that says, `I've no fucking clue what's
going on here.' I figured I should speak up to keep us both from getting
killed," Ephram said.
   "Great," Kian replied. "So glad that you did. At least you're taking
interest in your own survival now."
   Kian turned back to the squares and had to admit this: he admired the
efficiency of the operation. However, it could prove fatal for humans who
needed to find a way across. He stared out past the checkerboard pattern
and spotted a lever on the far side of the room. While he deliberated, a
single line of sweat rolled down the side of his smooth face. Presumably,
the lever would turn the test off. Adjacent to it stood a huge door built
into the wall. Kian surmised that it led into the next laboratory.
   "There's no magic here," Ephram uttered to him.
   Kian turned to face him. "How do you know?" A zone of no magic would
snuff my abilities.
   "I can't change shape. My claws won't grow," he said holding up his
hand. "I'm a fuckin' Valion knight if you recall, which means I can turn
into a wolf when I need to and something about this place prevents me from
doing just that. I thought you'd like to know."
   "Thanks," Kian said. He regarded the test again. It would appear that
this is also a third test; that of the bloodline gift called Zone of
Might. An addendum to all the properties that he'd ruminated over before
with this gift was that it also allowed the one who possessed it to use
magic in areas where magic no longer functioned. "Nice," he stated with a
flat tone. "I can't quantum sidestep to the other side."
   Ephram hung his head and scuffed the sole of his boot on the floor. He
preoccupied himself by staring at Kian's unusual footwear. "Those look
real," he said.
   "What do?"
   "The spurs. They look real," Ephram remarked.
   "They are real. I'm an actual Timeron knight," Kian replied.
   "What the fuck?" Ephram asked.
   "Eph, please. I promise to explain everything. Just let me think. I'm on
your side, and please ignore the armor for now."
   The Black Dragon Assassin of the Silver Rose turned his attention back
to the clashing pistons of steel and studied them. He moved all the way to
the checkerboard pattern and stood there tapping his toe on the stone
floor. Kian did this often—the rhythmic clicking brought his mind into
focus.
   In the next instant, he made his move and stepped out onto the cold
black square. Then, Kian jumped to the next spot of black which immediately
thrust upward with incredible speed and strength. He reacted and dove from
between the steel columns before they crushed him. He landed on a flat
black square that instantly shot up, vaulted to another in the act of
slamming together near the ceiling, and held on for dear life to a
third. Finally, it came loose from the roof again. As it retracted into the
black square tile from whence it originated, he made another leap. Kian
slid through a gap between two pistons so fast, his body seemed a blur. One
column on the far side clipped him on the leg as it launched upward. It
knocked him ten feet forward into the stone wall where he caught himself by
the palms.
   However, he'd made it across.
   Kian limped over to the lever. When he pulled it, the red squares cooled
while the steel pistons all rose from the black tiles. They came together
to form seamless columns. The edge of his cape smoked where invisible fire
had burnt it.
   Ephram crossed the room to him. "Are you all right?"
   "My leg just smarts is all," Kian said. His voice cracked in pain. "I'll
manage." He turned his attention to the door at his back. At first glance,
he saw that it had been fashioned from huge timbers and swung on hinges as
long as his legs. It rose all the way to within an inch of the ceiling. He
pulled on it and strained to move it away from the wall. His armor which
wore like a second skin, showed the striations of his back muscles as he
hauled it open.
   Behind it lay a corridor about fifteen-feet wide and thirty-feet
tall. Finished obsidian stone comprised the walls, floor, and ceiling. Ten
paces in Kian saw a caustic bubbling pool of acid. Fumes rose toward the
ceiling. Ephram walked around the corner of the huge door and flipped the
lever again to start up the pistons and the columns of invisible fire from
within the room they had just vacated.
   In front of them lay another deadly test.
   "Terrific," Kian muttered with much sarcasm.
   Ephram walked back into sight. "I just thought it wise that we don't
make it easy for them to figure out that we came through this way."
   "Good idea," Kian replied.
   He studied the corridor ahead, stood motionless, with arms folded
sternly over his chest. He noted that the bubbling pool of acid ended at a
wall some forty feet in from the edge of the pool. This obviously blocked
the corridor from going any further. Turbulence on the surface suggested
movement of some kind occurring below. Kian had an image in his mind
concocted from his experience in the current at the base of the falls where
he'd lost his lion.
   But the current is being driven by something—the question is what? A
tunnel perhaps?
   Kian didn't know how he could stay under to investigate and also expect
to survive. Huge animated statues like the Cataclysm Slayers would have no
trouble with the acid. However, he didn't have that luxury.
   "In my opinion, it's highly unlikely there's a tunnel down there,"
Bloodbane said in his mind.
   I'm beginning to agree, he replied in his head.
   "Oh, you're not going to tell me to bug off?" The sword asked. "I'm
shocked. I expected to find you incensed and randy and in no particular
order."
   Kian rolled his eyes. No. There are ripples welling up from below the
surface. It's a current of some kind but what could cause a current in
acid?
   "There are probably several explanations," Bloodbane offered. "Yes,
there could be a tunnel but it could also be something pushing through the
water, or it could be convection caused by heat."
   But what could survive acid indeterminably? Kian thought.
   "I don't know," Bloodbane said, "Maybe a force construct. More
appropriately, a blade of some kind made from force that could potentially
harm one of the animated statues you've faced. It would be invisible in the
acid and yet still damage one of the Cataclysm Slayers if it failed to
avoid it."
   "It's another test of agility then," Kian stated out loud.
   "Pardon?" Ephram asked. "I'm not sure what you mean."
   Kian looked at Ephram. "Sorry, I'm having a conversation with my sword."
   "No problem," Ephram said, scratching his chin and throwing Kian strange
looks. "I thought that perhaps I'd missed something."
   "It could be a test of agility. You need to know more," Bloodbane
replied.
   So how do I get past the wall and through a tunnel while dodging planes
of force that are sunk at varying levels of height within the acid?
Consider also that the things I need to dodge are invisible and will more
than likely cut me in half. "Ephram, are we still in a zone of no magic?"
Kian asked.
   "No," he answered, "But another one begins there at the edge of the
acid." He watched as Ephram passed his hand over the pit and tried to
extend his claws. "See?"
   Kian frowned. What kind of test is this?
   "It's a challenge of strength and not agility," Bloodbane said. "There's
no tunnel. The statues stay out of the acid and destroy the wall instead,
thereby exiting the room."
   But how do they stay out of the acid? Kian asked. Suddenly he had an
idea. "I need fog," Kian said, "Or smoke, or something like that."
   "I don't have anything on me," Ephram stated.
   "Use your tinder," Bloodbane said. "It's smoky as all hell. It'll be
enough."
   "Good idea," Kian said.
   Ephram stared at him puzzled. Kian dropped down, fumbled with the pommel
of his sword and pulled out the tinder and struck his flint and
steel. Before long, the tinder sent up a trail of smoke.
   He fanned at it and the white smoke moved out into the air above the
acid pool. Just as Kian had expected, eddies in the air confirmed that
there were two levels of force planes gliding along a horizontal
path. These force planes were about two-feet wide a piece and he reasoned
that they were probably razor sharp.
   Next, his keen eyesight revealed three vertically-placed force planes
that issued forth from the ceiling and dropped into the acid. These walls
were about ten-feet tall and as wide as the corridor. They occurred at
precise times when he would need to make a jump from one horizontal force
plane to another. However, he'd be unable to make a jump because a
descending vertical wall of force would block him from doing so causing him
to miss the opportunity. In the next instant as it cleared, a horizontal
wall of force would catch him and either knock him into the acid, or cleave
him in half.
   Tethyr's Teeth...what kind of fucking death trap is this? He
thought. There has to be a way.
   "There is," Bloodbane responded.
   What's your idea? Kian asked his sword.
   "You'll have to climb the descending wall of force. The top of it is
going to be sharper than a cibrian blade but you have corobidian armor to
protect your hands. You're also extremely light so there isn't going to be
much weight on your fingers as you use the top of the wall to propel
yourself over it. Once past, you'll have to land on a two-foot-wide piece
of invisible real estate and make ready for another hop and then hurdle a
wall again. One mistake and I won't have a wielder again and your daughter
will be fatherless."
   I won't make a mistake, Kian replied.
   "I'm depending on that," Bloodbane said. Then he left him to his wiles.
   He swallowed hard and looked at Ephram. "I think I know how to get
through this." He explained the plan to him.
   "It sounds a lot like lunacy to me," Ephram said. "Tell me again how you
plan to deal with the wall?"
   It was a problematic question. "Well, I don't think I have to deal with
the entire thing. I believe I just need to deal with a portion of it. When
water leaks into tiny fissures in rock and freezes solid, the ice breaks
the rock apart. That's what I plan to do here. I can do that with
Bloodbane." He paused a moment to gather his courage and then said, "Wish
me luck and stand as far back from this pool as possible. The acid may
slosh some when the wall crumbles."
   "Godspeed," Ephram said, visibly worried.
   Kian leapt and alighted on the first plane of horizontal force,
instantly spotted the next, landed on it ducked under a third, jumped over
a fourth and found himself at the wall of force that descended from the
ceiling. Without wasting a second, Kian jumped as high as he could. He
grabbed the top with both hands and pinched his fingers and palms together
so that there was as little weight as possible actually aimed at his
palms. His idea had been to vice grip the wall of force and thus lift
himself up that way instead of in a more traditional manner.
   He was incredibly strong for his weight, and all muscle. Even still, the
momentary contact his corobidian-forged armor had with the top of the wall
of force made sparks fly as it tried to cut through it. Had Kian stayed
there, he was sure he'd have lost some fingers. But he only need half a
second to scramble over.
   "Graceful" as a word fell far short when used to describe Kian as he
landed, rolled and jumped to the next plane of horizontal force. He pushed
off it with the ball of his left foot, made a vertical leap of about six
feet, landed, leapt again, fell and bounced off another. At the second wall
of force that descended from the ceiling, he jumped with all his strength
and barely grabbed the top using the pinch technique again. Sparks flew
from his gauntlets but he pulled himself over in under a second, landed on
another three horizontal planes of force in succession and bounded over the
last descending wall.
   Completely drenched in sweat, he slammed Bloodbane into the stone wall
near the ceiling as the blade of force he was standing on started to move
away. It slid into the obsidian with ease and he shook the sword, forcing
it to change into a club with a fat end. The growth in size shattered the
rock in a spider web pattern, and it came tumbling down.
   Kian jumped clear of the debris, landed on a narrow ledge and ran over
to a lever he saw sticking out from the wall. He flipped it and stone
coverings from out of either wall slid into place, completely blocking off
the pit of acid. The planes of force promptly dissipated.
   Ephram ran across. "I've never seen anything like that."
   "Like what?" Kian asked him, flipping his visor open. Sweat glazed the
skin of his face.
   "Like you. Like what you're capable of doing."
   "Don't count all your chickens until they've hatched," he said. "There's
still one more room ahead."
   "Oh...any idea what that one is?"
   "I don't. Sorry. I'm as new to this as you."
   The Crimson Guard shrugged. "I'm sorry that I tried to kill your friend,
earlier. And it's okay, you'll get us past it, I'm sure. And by the way,
it's nice to finally see your face. You're quite handsome even if you're
white as an albino; you shouldn't hide behind your armor and actually get
some sun."
   Kian appreciated Ephram's confidence in him. He crept cautiously along
the basalt ledge, following the line of the room to the back where a steel
portcullis stood. It blocked their way. Ephram, as he'd done before,
flipped the lever to restore the room behind them to its original
state. The shattered stone wall reassembled itself.
   This is impressive magic, Kian thought.
   On the far side of the portcullis, Kian beheld a large gloomy chamber
with shadows eclipsing one end. His gaze darted from place to place, seeing
if he could spot a button or a lever that might open the portcullis. When
he failed to identify one, he tried lifting it and managed to move it
almost an inch before it jammed.
   "I think I see something," Ephram said.
   "What?" Kian snapped.
   "A button on the wall, I think."
   Kian took a look and saw it then. It stood relatively close to the
portcullis and around a bend that remained invisible from where he'd been
standing. "I think I can shoot it with an arrow."
   Kian took out Bloodbane, transformed the sword to a bow that came with
one arrow, and notched it. He took aim, making sure to let fly in-between
heartbeats to achieve better accuracy with the shot. When he let the arrow
loose, he heard an audible thrum from the drawstring as it snapped
taut. His mark was true. The arrow struck the button, and the portcullis
began its slow ascent into the ceiling.
   "Excellent work," Ephram said. He rolled under it when the gap between
the ground and the bottom of the gate became sufficient to allow him to
pass. Kian followed, quickly got to his feet, and scrutinized the next area
to make sure nothing escaped him. Then he retrieved the arrow.
   Together, the two knights walked further into the room.
   Kian searched out details in the low light and saw that the aft end was
lined with dormant Cataclysm Slayers, kinda like an underground repair
shop. There were twenty of them here, all aligned in two rows, some in
various poses. Many of the statues were damaged, some chipped, others bore
abrasions that looked like scorch marks, and there were three that looked
as if the stone had been diced; the pieces lay strewn about on the ground.
   At the far end of the hall, Ephram discovered a lift that could be made
to rise through a trap door in the ceiling via four ropes attached to a
platform of thick wooden planks with no rail. The ropes fed into winches on
the ceiling that would simultaneously pull open doors as the lift was
raised. The operation room stood a little to the west. This is where the
engineers would load the models that had passed their tests and send them
up to the main storage area. The elaborate pulley system for the machine
was in a side room, and most likely operated by slaves who were brought
down here when the Slayer laboratories were operational.
   "That leads to the docks," Kian said with confidence. "You stand on the
lift, and I'll operate it."
   "How will you get up?" Ephram asked.
   "I'll use my quantum sidestep when you're almost at the top."
   Ephram did not disagree. The battered Crimson Guard ambled over to the
lift while Kian went into the control room. He flipped the lever to free
the brake and then took the door to the room with the huge hoist.
   Built upon a rotating block with thick horizontal beams that hit Kian
about mid chest, the thing looked like it was meant to be operated by ten
men. Nevertheless, Kian stood behind one of these beams, stood in the
furrowed tracks trampled into the floor by countless slaves over the years,
and started pushing. Getting it to go was an effort, but he leaned into it,
dug in his heels, and strained with his back and legs. As he moved the bar
in a circle, the lift slowly ascended and the portal up top started to
crack open allowing in a beam of moonlight. After five minutes, the doors
had moved out of the way and Ephram was halfway to the top. Kian continued
to push, sweat dripping from his face, and his boots sometimes slipping on
the well-worn track. When Ephram was within easy reach of the opening, the
knight called down to him.
   "I can see the harbor. There's a ship out there bouncing up and down on
the swells. I'm not certain, but I think I see Akagi swinging a lantern
back and forth."
   Kian stopped pushing and teleported into the room where the brake was to
flip it before the lift could come crashing down. However, the sudden jolt
sent Ephram careening, but the knight caught himself before he reached the
edge.
   "Hey, watch it," he yelled.
   "Sorry," Kian said.
   Then he ran out and stared up at the bottom of the lift. Invoking the
quantum sidestep, Kian joined Ephram at his side. Then he grabbed Ephram
and gave him a lift onto the pier above them. Once Ephram was okay, Kian
hopped up, grabbed the lip of the trapdoor, and pulled himself up onto the
empty wharf. Over his shoulder were the walls of the Keep of Anghul. In
front of them, a black expanse of water with the blinking lights of the
holy city just across the bay.
   And as Ephram had indicated, a boat was in position out in the
harbor. He could see Akagi and Henna on deck.
   "I love it when a plan comes together," Kian said, before scooping
Ephram into his arms.
   Then the both of them vanished into the wind.

				   *****

The complete novel is now available for download at
http://slckismet.blogspot.com/p/books.html