Douglas Niles - Viperhand

But it was all they had, and it was far better than nothing.

"I think we're starting to go up," Erix announced after long minutes of walking. The others paused and regarded the tunnel before and behind them, agreeing that she was right.

"The slaves who provide his food tell me that Naltecona is quartered in the old Revered Counselor's chambers. That should make our task a little easier. There's certain to be a secret passage leading there" Poshtli held his steel longsword in one hand now as the climb in the tunnel became more noticeable. "We must be under the palace now."

Abruptly the tunnel met an intersection with another passage crossing at right angles. Poshtli stopped, confronted with three choices of direction.

"That way," said Erix decisively, pointing to the right.

The men looked at her, surprised by her vehemence. She pointed again, and they shrugged. With no more convincing alternative, the warrior led them to the right.

This tunnel proceeded for perhaps two hundred paces and then ended in a steep stone stairway.

"Up there," Erix whispered.

"How can you know where we're going?" asked Halloran, wanting to believe that they were on the right track.

"I don't know," she replied. "But I think we'll find Naltecona up ahead."

Carefully Poshtli led the way up the steep, spiraling steps. After one full circle, the stairway ended at a narrow platform. Before them, fully illuminated in the light of Halloran's spell, stood the outline of a narrow stone door.

"Kirishone" Hal whispered, dousing the light. He didn't want any telltale gleam through a crack to give them away to anyone on the other side.

"Let's have a look," Poshtli said, pushing against the portal. With a dull rasp of wooden pivots, the stone door slowly yielded to his pressure.

Soundlessly the warrior slipped through, quickly followed by Erix and Hal. They smelled moist foliage, and grass cushioned their footsteps. For a few moments, they blinked into what seemed like pitch darkness, but gradually their eyes adjusted to the gloom.

They had entered an enclosed garden, Hal saw, one that was open to the sky above. He guessed that they were in the right palace, but he could only hope that somehow they had emerged into the proper area of that palace.

"D'you hear somethin?" The guttural question, spoken from a few feet away, froze them in place. The language was that of the legionnaires.

"I dunno. Here, get a spark for the torch."

"Styberius" hissed Hal, quickly pulling a pinch of sand from his pouch. He had studied the sleep spell but never used it before.

"Hey…" The original voice grunted softly in surprise, but then the listeners were rewarded by three soft thuds as bodies fell to the ground.

Erix quickly knelt beside the forms of the slumbering guards. The overcast kept the night very dark, but enough light from the nearly full moon penetrated the clouds to reveal the garden in dim, shadowy detail.

"I thought you killed them," the woman whispered, "but they're only asleep."

"Guards — a good sign," Poshtli added. "It means they have something worth guarding here, and this looks like a royal garden. Naltecona might be in one of these sleeping chambers."

They advanced along a grassy path between ferns and blossoms. Several tall, graceful palms leaned over them, silhouetted against the sky.

"Wait!" Erix warned quietly, her voice taut with alarm.

"What is it?" Hal turned from side to side, peering into the shrubbery around them. Was something moving?

"Kirisha!" The command, barked in a woman's voice, suddenly filled the garden with white light. A dozen or more legionnaires leaped from the rooms around them, swords drawn.

"A trap!" cried Poshtli. He raised his longsword and deflected the attack of the first swordsman.

Halloran leaped in front of Erixitl and slashed with Helms-tooth at another attacker. He grunted in astonishment as the weapon cleaved his opponent's sword and went on to slash the man's body into two pieces. Never had he struck a blow with such power.

He turned and chopped at another legionnaire who rushed him from the flank, surprising him. Nevertheless, this blow sent another attacker flying across the garden to smash, stunned, against the wall. Halloran hacked again, an overhand chop that once more snapped his opponent's sword and cleaved the man in two.

Poshtli stumbled against Hal, pressed by three attackers, and Halloran whirled. He charged into them, his blade flashing, bone-crushing power behind his attacks. Three savage blows dropped the swordsmen, and Hal rushed ahead, driving a rank of legionnaires back before him.

He saw stark fear in the faces of the men he fought, but, mindful of his companions, he didn't pursue too far. He moved back to Erixitl's side, and saw the awe upon her face. "How did you do that?" she gasped, gesturing to the broken bodies around them.

For the first time, Halloran noticed the tingling in his wrists. He looked down and saw the delicate rings of his feathered wristbands — the dowry given him by Lotil, the featherworker. Could those beautiful objects truly be the source of his sudden, giantlike strength? What had Lotil told him?

"… they may not look like much, but I think that you will appreciate them"

Indeed he did! Panting slightly, Hal looked around. The swordsmen stood in a rough circle around them, their eyes wide with fear. He saw movement behind the legionnaires, recognizing the dark form of Darien. It was she who had cast the light spell.

She raised her hand, and he saw a dim pebble of light float from her finger — a pebble he had seen in battle before. "Fireball!" he cried, feeling a hopeless sense of panic as that innocent-looking globule of flame drifted toward them.

Erixitl seized his arm and Poshtli's, pulling them both close to her. Spellbound, they watched the dot move closer.

The two or three seconds of its flight passed like hours.

Then the world around them erupted into searing light. Tongues of liquid flame exploded from the pebble, encircling them, hissing with infernal heat. Moist, succulent plants sizzled into ash. The ring of encircling legionnaires stumbled backward, many suffering burns on their faces or hands.

Halloran felt the heat pressing around them, bringing sweat to his forehead. Numb with terror, he awaited the devouring kiss of flame that would end their lives. He sensed Erix's fear beside him as her hand squeezed his arm with viselike pressure.

But then the flames faded away, and they were unharmed! They stood amidst a large, circular patch of blackened, smoldering garden, but Erix's pluma had protected them from the spell.

"Take them, you cowards!" He heard Darien's voice, uncharacteristically shrill, commanding the legionnaires. Perhaps two dozen of them still stood, and once again they pressed forward.

"Stay close to me," warned Erix as Hal started to lunge toward the swordsmen. He saw, from the devastated plant life, that the ring of protection around Erix seemed to extend some ten feet away from her.

Feinting toward the men before him, he drove them back. Then he turned and, with Poshtli at his side, attacked those rushing from the rear. In three blows, three more men fell, and the Maztican stayed another. Hal noted that Poshtli readily adapted his skill with a maca to the use of the hard steel blade.

Halloran saw Darien raise her hand again. A bolt of magic hissed from her finger, a magic arrow forming in the air. It crackled toward him, and he grunted with pain as it hissed into his hip, leaving a smoking burn.

Again a bolt crackled, and he flinched backward, knowing he couldn't avoid the attack. But then a lithe form stepped before him. The magic arrow struck Erixitl between her breasts, where the pluma token lay against her skin, unseen beneath her dress.