Adrian Tchaikovsky - The Scarab Path

And so he inflicted pain, because it made him feel better. I hold the knife, therefore I am in control . It was not a deep cut he inflicted, but he was an old hand at this. The knife's tip was carefully inserted between the bones of Osgan's shoulder joint, so that the slightest tremor would be unendurable agony. Osgan was sobbing, shuddering, fighting to keep desperately still. If he tried to bolt for freedom the pain would have shocked him out of consciousness.

'Thalric! I know you're out there!' Sulvec bellowed. Marger and the others were waiting in a circle round him, with lanterns some distance beyond them both ways. They had turned the wicks up high, so that for Thalric to get within sting range, he would be in their light. Still, he could come from anywhere, at any time. Sulvec was putting on the pressure but Thalric was no fool. If he wanted to make a fight of it, then he would undoubtedly take a few of them with him. Which is why I'm here in the middle , Sulvec decided.

He opened his mouth to shout again, but the echoes were getting to him. They made something unpleasant of his voice, as though someone were lampooning him from the darkness. I'm glad the Khanaphir are going to get theirs. Nobody who builds a monstrosity like this deserves to live . Yet at the back of his mind hovered a persistent worry telling him that this did not look much like the rest of Khanaphes above. There was no guarantee precisely what hands had created this lightless abyss. That started the imagination going, and it did not take much to start him wondering what else might be roused by his calls and Osgan's cries. What if things live down here?

'Maybe he doesn't care about the man,' said Marger, deliberately quiet to avoid the echo.

'You said that he seemed to,' Sulvec accused.

'He did seem to, but maybe I was wrong.' Marger was uncomfortable with the knife-work, Sulvec could see. Another weakling: to be Rekef is to know no limits . For good measure Sulvec twisted the blade again, holding Osgan down for easier purchase. The prisoner had been a useless babbler ever since they had dragged him down here, going on about some phantom terror that he seemed to connect with the old Emperor's death. Putting the knife in had only vocalized what had been going on in Osgan's head ever since then. It'll do him good to let it out .

'He's out there, and he's hearing this, and he'll come,' Sulvec snarled. 'And don't think your reluctance hasn't been noted. When Thalric does make an appearance, you'd better impress me with your dedication, Marger. You don't want to fall foul of one of my reports.'

'No, sir,' Marger replied with a sour look.

For the first hundred strides, Thalric had been running, heading out of the hall of tombs and back the way they had come. Even as Che bolted after him, she heard his footsteps stop as he took wing, skimming along into the pitch dark, finding his way by the roiling confusion of sounds ahead of them.

She had never been a runner but she did her best. Her wings flicked and flared, casting her forward in awkward jumps, and when she touched the ground each time she kept pelting along at top speed, still falling behind him but keeping him in sight. Then he had passed the last of the blue-flamed fires and was into the utter pitch, slowing to keep his course straight. She kept up her mad dash after him, still moving with all the speed she could muster. She was just about keeping level even as the next shrill scream coursed past them.

Too loud , the thought was irresistible. Too loud in this dead place. It was not a matter of respect but prudence. Too loud in the silence, and Thalric was coursing too fast over all the trampled ages that had lain here for so long. The thought that came to her in the midst of her hopping, awkward flight was, We will wake them .

There was light ahead, bright lamplight a hundred times more wholesome than the pallid blue of the braziers. She saw that a ring of Wasps were waiting for them, with two men in the centre, one of them crouching over the other. Thalric had gone high, wings carrying him near to the ceiling. They will spot him at any moment .

Motion caught her eye. She saw another man there, standing beyond the lamplight. He was a stocky Beetle-kinden with a shaved head, but the crossbow in his hands belied any claim to being Khanaphir.

In the dark , she thought, he sees as I do, and Thalric cannot see him .

'Thalric, drop!' she yelled at him, with all the breath she had left. She would remember, later, only that he did not hesitate, banishing his wings and falling from the air on to his feet just as the crossbow bolt ripped above him in the dark, to be lost amongst the buttresses.

Then: 'Go! Go get Osgan!' she called, even as he hesitated, and she herself was charging the Beetle man, her sword already out of its scabbard. He saw her coming, but had time only to cast the crossbow away.

Thalric lunged into the air and his hands were already wreathed in golden fire as he hit the lamplight. His sting was his strong Art, burning further and fiercer than most. Even though they were waiting for him he still surprised them. In his mind was the one simple thought: They need Osgan alive, to trap me. They will keep him alive, so I have a free hand .

The closest man loosed his bolt too early, the fire skittering beneath Thalric as he launched his own. He saw the Wasp thrown from his feet by the force of the impact, his armour melted through and holed, a fist-sized burning mark in his chest. Thalric did not slow, turning quickly and diving in the air just as the others loosed at him. He let fly another two bolts, missing both times, then was past them, diving fast into the darkness again. And how good is their leader now? He heard the words even as he landed again, feet skidding on the slick stonework as he turned himself around. 'After him, you two!' came the order, and Thalric was waiting for them, fingers spread and eyes hunting out their silhouettes.

In the darkness, Che drove in with her blade, with no time to think: I am killing another of my people . He was Rekef in her eyes, and that removed any trace of kindred. She ran him through without mercy.

Or that was the plan. The Beetle threw himself backwards but one arm was already sweeping for her swordblade. She felt the flat of her sword taken aside by his armoured forearm, and then he punched her with his other hand.

Even though he was moving backwards at the time, the blow hit far harder than it should have done, stopping her short with her head ringing. He followed up, grappling for her sword hand and driving a solid shoulder into her chest, knocking her backwards. She swung at him again but he was too close. The guard of her sword struck him in the face and gashed his cheek, and then he backhanded her hard enough to rattle her teeth. His fists were weighted with gnarls of bone about the knuckles, a Beetle's Art-given weapons.

She tried for distance, hoping to get him at the end of her sword again while ducking aside from his next blow. He did not give her a moment's peace, already grabbing for her wrist to get the sword off her. She cut his fingers once as he misjudged the distance, but even that did not slow him. His expression was implacable, a man performing a difficult but routine job.

I am really not a fighter. I forget that . She broke away sideways, hacking at his head, but he got an arm in the way. The blade bit into the leathers he wore under his Khanaphir clothes, but did not draw blood.

In the darkness of the far side, Thalric's hand flashed fire twice, three times. One of the men barrelling towards him abruptly tumbled out of the air. The other twitched aside at the first flash, and then was on him, faster than either of them was ready for. He had his sword out but Thalric skipped aside from it, and shoved an elbow painfully into the man's jaw. For a moment they were grappling, each trying to find a clear moment for either stab or sting. Then Thalric dragged his opponent down and drove a knee as hard as he could high into the man's ribs, at the point where the armour of the light airborne left off. He heard at least one crack, as the soldier hissed in pain and fell away. Thalric sent a stingbolt after him but it flew wide, the man's wings taking him back into the dark.