Barb Hendee - Through Stone and Sea

Sau'ilahk froze as it echoed off of stone.

Between glistening natural columns he spotted a hulkish dark shadow. It stood in one of the far openings and stepped into the main cavern. Orange light caught on the dwarf's thick red hair and glinted upon a thôrhk around its neck.

Sau'ilahk rushed at it, straight through the wet columns.

The dwarf drew a wide dagger from his belt. His other hand swung wide and slapped against the cavern's wall.

Another thunderclap rose from stone.

Sau'ilahk halted upon hearing a grating beneath the noise. At a shift of shadow, he whirled to see the cavern wall bulging.

Darkened stone formed into a wide face and a body that followed.

A second Stonewalker emerged straight out of the cavern wall.

Wynn tried to regain her wits as she was herded down the passage. She held on to Shade's scruff and glanced back for Chane. One young Weardas flicked a sword point at her in warning. Beyond him, Chane was disarmed and driven forward by the other bodyguard and the captain.

And the captain held her staff.

Wynn panicked for an instant. To use the staff, she needed her pewter-framed glasses. Her thoughts scrambled back over the wild struggle at the gate before the sea tunnel. She dug into the pocket of her elven pants, and when she felt the rims of her spectacles, she drew a minor breath of relief that she hadn't lost them. Hurrying on, she looked back once again.

A glimpse of white at the rear told Wynn the elf followed, but she couldn't tell whether the duchess was there. The only person ahead of her was the master of the Stonewalkers.

Wynn was lost as to what had happened in the pool chamber. She'd blundered into more than just the hiding place of her texts. A dead prince was locked away in the Stonewalkers' underworld, and Duchess Reine was with him. Foreign beings had risen in the tunnel's water, clearly having some affinity for Prince Freädherich. And the prince had submerged to utter unimaginable sounds.

Whatever it all meant, Wynn realized that none of it was intended for the world outside. And the only reason she still lived was because the duchess had faltered.

Even if she was left alive, she'd be locked away where no one would ever find her. There would be no charges, no trial, no chance to justify how and why she'd forced her way in here. Wynn Hygeorht would simply disappear.

She still couldn't get it all straight in her head.

The duchess had nearly stood trial for her husband's disappearance and assumed death. If she'd known he was alive, why hadn't she spoken up at the time? The answer was partly here, but how was the prince connected to those beings in the tunnel?

A single memory lingered in Wynn's mind. It complicated all other questions.

Half a world away in Droevinka, Leesil had uncovered a hidden chamber beneath the keep near Magiere's home village. There, Ubâd had engineered her unnatural conception and birth. In that chamber, they'd found the remains of those slaughtered for the ritual.

Elves and dwarves were known, one of each present among the desiccated bones. But the others were like no beings Wynn had ever seen—until later. A séyilf, one of the Wind-Blown, had appeared at Magiere's trial before the Farlands' elves. In the search for the orb, Magiere, Leesil, and Chap had been taken into the depths before the Chein'âs, the Burning Ones.

The Úirishg — five races associated to the Elements—were only a myth.

But not to Wynn—not after all she'd been through in the last two years. Elves and Dwarves, Séyilf and Chein'âs races stood for Spirit and Earth, Air and Fire. That left only Water. Even knowing the other races existed, the impact of what—who—she'd seen in the pool chamber's tunnel was more than she could take in.

Wynn had seen the people from the sea, the last race of the Úirishg.

But right now, she had to focus. She, Chane, and Shade were in deadly trouble, and not from the undead or the agents of a long-forgotten enemy. They'd stumbled into a tangled secret, one the duchess seemed ready to kill for to keep hidden.

"Where are you taking us?" Wynn finally asked.

No one answered.

She glanced back at Chane and scowled as a Weardas tipped a sword at her face. Chane looked coldly unconcerned. That didn't worry her as much as his eyes.

His irises were still colorless, glinting like crystals. She still didn't fully understand why and how that happened, except that it occurred just before he did something unnatural—something undead-like. He was waiting for a moment to attack and get his hands on a weapon.

Wynn shook her head at him emphatically. Injuring or killing royal guards would only make things worse. When he didn't even blink in acknowledgment, all she could do was move on, watching the master Stonewalker's wide back.

Then she thought she heard thunder.

Shade halted, lurching Wynn to a stop. The bodyguard behind her stumbled and cursed. Master Cinder-Shard grew still in the passage ahead.

"What was that?" Chane asked.

Shade snarled loudly, and Wynn stroked the dog's back. Instantly, her head began to ache. A memory swelled, nearly bloating the passage from her sight.

A black shadow coalesced like a column of night in a street sparsely lit by lanterns. The wraith stood between Wynn and the guild's keep. It was the night she'd first gone to meet Chane.

Wynn took a sharp inhale.

Cinder-Shard glanced back, one hand on a sheathed blade at his waist. But Wynn teetered as Shade called up one memory after another—always of the black wraith.

It burst out through a scriptorium door… .

It escaped the Upright Quill with a folio… .

It tore out a city guard's chest.

"No!" she whispered sharply. "You're wrong. I saw it ripped apart … like smoke. It's gone!"

Shade clacked her teeth, snarling so loudly it reverberated.

Cinder-Shard's craggy features filled with suspicion.

"Wynn?" Chane called.

Another boom like thunder rolled down the tunnel, and the master Stonewalker whirled about, facing the path ahead.

"What is it?" the captain barked.

Cinder-Shard took off at a run, his heavy boots hammering the passage floor.

"Stop!" Wynn shouted.

"What is he doing?" Chane hissed.

"Shut it!" the captain ordered, and then shouted, "Cinder-Shard?"

Wynn turned toward Chane but faltered. Still gripping Shade's fur, she looked down. Shade stood rigid, hackles raised. A mewling rumble began pouring between her bared teeth.

Wynn still didn't want to believe. She shriveled inside, trying to hide from Shade's truth. If that thing had survived, after all it had done to get the folios, there was only one way it could've known to come here.

It had followed her.

When Wynn looked to Chane, she was choking in misery. She had led that monster in here.

"Wraith!" she whispered sharply.

Silent malice washed from Chane's features, replaced by startled disbelief. He began to shake his head. And Shade suddenly ripped free of Wynn's grip.

The dog bolted down the passage and cut loose an eerie wail that echoed. Both young Weardas behind Wynn winced at the deafening sound. Chane wasn't shaking his head anymore.

"The staff!" Wynn shouted, looking to the captain.

"Tristan, follow Cinder-Shard!" the duchess ordered from somewhere at the rear. "Don't lose sight of him."

Chane spun about, blocking the captain. "Give Wynn the staff. Do it, or you are all dead … even your precious noble!"

"I told you to keep quiet," barked the captain, shoving Chane forward.

"Duchess!" Wynn called. "Tell him to give me the staff. Not even the Stonewalkers can face this."

The pair of Weardas charged her. One grabbed her soaked tunic's shoulder and shoved her on. Before she turned, she looked to Chane and flicked a quick glance toward the staff in the captain's hand.