Barb Hendee: Through Stone and Sea

And his prey had nowhere to run.

A brief glimpse into the adjoining chamber had shown no other exit. The gate beyond the pool was shut, an oval of white metal in place of its lock. As with the portal above the shaft into the underworld, at a guess, only the Stonewalkers could open either. Otherwise those trapped within the chamber would have already fled.

But night was slipping away too quickly, and he had to finish this.

Sau'ilahk blinked, materializing before the opening to the second chamber—the last place he had appeared, and so the last place they would be watching for him.

The pool chamber was empty.

He rushed into the adjoining room, and on through a rear opening he had not seen the first time. It was only a bedroom with no other way out. He flew straight through the wall, back to the pool's side.

The chamber was still empty—and he looked toward the shut gate at the pool's back.

Sau'ilahk sank halfway through the floor as he angled down into the pool and approached the iron bars. Distant footfalls echoed up the tunnel.

How could they have opened the way?

Wynn had eluded him yet again—and she was running for the dawn.

Wynn slogged down the tunnel, seawater sloshing inside her boots. Once they'd waded beyond the pool's outer reservoir, the tunnel floor was clear for as far as her cold lamp crystal's light could reach. Fortunately the tide was either falling or hadn't fully risen. But amid fear, she was fuming inside at what she'd seen the duchess do.

Reine's comb had a small white metal nub on its back that tripped the gate's lock.

All the struggles that she, Chane, and Shade had gone through to get in hadn't been necessary. She'd had a key all along. The tip of her elven quill, gifted by Gleann in the lands of the an'Croan, was made of Chein'âs metal.

All she would've had to do, it seemed, was touch it to any white metal oval in a gate.

Wynn cursed under her breath again. Once they were far enough down the tunnel, she handed the cold lamp crystal to Tristan. The duchess took the lead with the captain behind her, holding the crystal high so its light spread ahead and behind. Wynn fell back with Chane and Shade.

She felt like a coward.

Others had stayed behind to face the wraith instead of her. There was no telling what had happened to Chuillyon. Much as she disliked him, suspected him, it worried her that he'd never made it to the prince's chamber—nor had Cinder-Shard or the other Stonewalkers.

The pressure of her failures grew.

A woman had lost her husband. A kingdom had lost its prince a second time, trapped in isolation for the burden of mixed blood. And Wynn had brought the wraith in among the unaware.

All because she wouldn't let anything get in her way.

What had she gained for it? She had her old journals, a brief glimpse at the texts, and had unmasked the worshipper of an ancient traitor taken in by the dwarves' secret guardians of the honored dead.

Wynn tried to clear her mind. The wraith would come, and if Chane was right, the only thing to hinder it might be the inability to see far enough down the tunnel to close upon them instantly.

Shade inched forward on her right, and Wynn glanced back at Chane. He'd left his sword sheathed and only kept watch, alternating between behind and ahead. His irises glinted colorlessly whenever the crystal's light touched them.

He had stood by her as had no one else but Shade. She wished she could tell him how grateful she was, but this wasn't the time. If she died this night, would she regret never having told him?

Shade slowed and turned.

Wynn halted, following the dog's gaze. Chane already faced back up the tunnel. She didn't need Shade's rumble to warn her.

"It's coming," she said.

Tristan backed Reine against the tunnel wall and pulled his sword. Perhaps that was his only comfort in not being able to do more. Wynn silently held out her open hand toward the captain and then clenched.

He closed his fist around the crystal, and all light vanished.

Wynn fumbled in her pocket for the glasses and pushed them onto her face.

Shade began mewling, and the sound shuddered in the tunnel.

"Shade, no," she whispered, and the dog quieted.

In the silence, she heard the duchess's low, quick breaths, and longer, even ones from the captain. Right in front her, Shade hissed in suppressed growls. But she heard nothing from Chane, no breath, no movements, and something else now frightened her.

"The sun crystal …" she whispered, hoping only he heard. "You can't hide here."

"My cloak will be enough."

Would it? In her guild room, he'd dropped and covered himself, but il'Sänke had left the sun crystal lit for only an instant. It would take much more to put the wraith down and not just drive it off for the moment.

"Start your preparation," he whispered.

"Can you see it?" she asked.

"Listen to Shade," he answered.

Wynn felt him brush past and crouch behind her. One of his arms wrapped lightly around her waist. What did he think he was going to do, pull her to safety if this didn't work?

"All of you, close your eyes!" Wynn whispered. "Chane, keep … Pull your hood down over your face."

She heard him struggling, but his arm never left her waist.

In the dark, she felt along the staff with one hand to get a mental fix upon the sun crystal's position. She focused upon it and began as Domin il'Sänke had taught her. The nested circles and triangles came more quickly, in pairs this time, as she uttered phrases spoken in old Sumanese. Wynn held off the last utterance, just listening.

Shade snarled loudly.

Wynn nearly shouted the last words: " Mênajil il'Núr'u mên'Hkâ'ät! … for the Light of Life!"

Light erupted before Wynn's eyes, and the glasses went black for an instant. A shrieking hiss tore at her ears over Shade's yelp. The lenses cleared, and she saw …

Beyond the blinding crystal, the wraith thrashed in the tunnel.

Had she caught it so off guard? Had luck finally turned in her favor? Wynn took a half step and thrust the staff, trying to spear the wraith with the crystal's searing light.

The wraith fragmented like soot in the air, spreading in all directions. Its hiss faded and those wisps dissipated under the sun crystal's intensity.

Wynn just stood there—then she was startled from inaction as Chane's hand tightened on her waist. She quickly wiped the pattern from her mind, as well as the triggering utterances lingering in her thoughts.

The crystal went out, and she fumbled to get the glasses off her face.

"Some light!" she shouted.

It came as Tristan opened his fist around the cold lamp crystal.

"Is it gone?" he demanded. "Is it finished this time?"

Wynn looked up the empty tunnel.

She didn't know how to answer; she'd hoped for some better hint. Everything had happened much the same as when they'd faced it outside the scribe shop. But this time … it had burned away so quickly. And she smelled something strange, just a hint over the odor of seawater.

"Wynn?" Chane whispered.

"I don't know," she answered. "Are you all right?"

"Yes."

She held her hand back toward Tristan—who passed off the cold lamp crystal. With the crystal in hand, she tried taking a step up the tunnel.

Chane let go of her waist, rising, and grabbed the back of her tunic. It startled her. Then something else caught her eye.

The tunnel's roof began to stain black.

"No!" she whispered.

"Run!" Chane hissed, pulling her back as Shade lunged in front of her.

Wynn tried to set her feet. The wraith, torn by the light, had simply retreated into the walls. She couldn't destroy it in here, where it could take refuge in an instant. But she wouldn't let this thing get to the others.