Barb Hendee - Through Stone and Sea

"Into stone … with you !" the dwarf growled at him.

Sau'ilahk heard Wynn and one of the Weardas shouting. But he was so weak, so depleted. Everything vanished from sight as he was pushed into the cavern wall.

He felt his form turn corporeal, almost as if he were flesh once more. Bone and sinew began to harden, like the instant he had pierced the first Stonewalker with his hand and that one had stepped back into the wall.

Sau'ilahk released a hiss but heard nothing within stone.

Terror broke his will, and exhaustion dragged him down.

He vanished into dormancy.

Wynn ceased struggling against the captain's hold. Shade paced before her, alternately snarling at the captain and staring where the wraith had vanished. The burned Weardas was down, moaning in pain, and Danyel's nose was bleeding. Sword held out, Danyel stood angrily over Chane, who was conscious but still on the floor where Cinder-Shard had thrown him.

Wynn stared at Cinder-Shard's arm penetrating stone. He'd somehow gripped the wraith, as if it were whole and solid. Realization set in. Any doubt concerning the texts' movements was gone.

The Hassäg'kreigi—Stone walkers —could pass through solid stone and earth. They were carrying the texts in and out of guild grounds.

Cinder-Shard jerked his arm from the wall, and Wynn's numbed mind reawoke.

"Did you kill it?" she asked wildly. "Is it finished?"

He stood looking at his hand in bewilderment.

"Master?" a familiar voice called.

Ore-Locks stepped into sight, closing quickly on Cinder-Shard.

Another Stonewalker pushed past them and ran his broad hand over the rough, damp wall. Gray-blond hair hung around his bony face of jutting brow, cheekbones, and chin. His hand stopped, thick fingers tensed, and a seething grimace twisted his features. He shook his head at Cinder-Shard.

Wynn sagged in the captain's grip. Whatever the master of the Stonewalkers had tried, it had failed—the wraith had escaped.

Cinder-Shard stepped straight to her and jerked the staff from her grip. Before he said anything, another voice shouted out.

"You … miscreant !"

Wynn's gaze shifted instantly.

Reine stood before Chuillyon, saber in hand, shuddering in fright or rage, or both. She took a step toward Wynn, but Chuillyon restrained her. Chane immediately regained his feet.

"Who was that?" the duchess demanded.

"The wraith," Wynn answered hoarsely. "An obscure myth … the only one that fits it."

Reine's eyes closed in a scowl.

"It killed sages … for the folios," Wynn insisted, "likely Hammer-Stag, too. I thought we'd destroyed—"

"You led a murderer here!" The duchess's voice cracked with strain.

Wynn fell silent, unable to deny this. The only way the wraith would've come to Dhredze Seatt was by following her. It hadn't given up any more than she had. But if the sun crystal hadn't destroyed it in the streets of Calm Seatt, then what chance did she have now? Why did this thing seek the texts with such vicious determination?

Reine's gaze lifted slightly, perhaps to the captain. "Lock them up!" she ordered.

Chane inched forward, and Danyel pressed a sword's point to his chest as a stocky female Stonewalker pulled a wide dagger and flanked him.

"Chane!" Wynn warned, and shook her head.

The sun crystal was still their best way to hold off the wraith, and Chane's blindly assaulting Stonewalkers and royal guards wouldn't help. Even if they regained their belongings and eluded capture, they had no way out. The sea people blocked the tunnel, and warrior thänæ guarded the domed chamber above the lift.

Wynn had to prove herself indispensable before anyone here would want her help. As always, the texts seemed the only chance to find answers.

"We have no prison here," Cinder-Shard growled. "There is only one sealable chamber, but—"

"No!" the gray-blond elder snapped, and turned on Cinder-Shard. "The living do not belong—"

"I don't care," the duchess shouted. "Put them in some hell, if you have to. They already know too much. But keep them contained until we understand whom we're dealing with!"

Ore-Locks, the middle-aged female, and the bony-faced elder all watched Cinder-Shard expectantly. The elder one still shook his head in warning, but Cinder-Shard focused only on the duchess.

Reine shrank a little, as if reproached. Even Chuillyon looked less than pleased by what she demanded.

"Very well," Cinder-Shard finally answered.

The duchess exhaled, but Chuillyon frowned. Then the elf crouched.

Retrieving Wynn's and Chane's discarded belongings, he glanced at Cinder-Shard with clear disapproval. Cinder-Shard turned away, heading for the cavern's far-left end. The female Stonewalker lifted the burned Weardas, carrying him.

"He needs attention," she stated flatly. "I will take him to Amaranth."

Wynn had no idea who or what that might be. The captain released her, shoving her onward as Chane was herded into motion. Wynn grabbed Shade's scruff to keep the dog out of the way, but kept her eyes on Cinder-Shard, trying not to guess where they were going. Instead, she groped for any notion to pique her captors' interest… .

Something they might half believe, enough to want more and thereby take her to the texts. The duchess's reaction, like that of Captain Rodian of the city guard, suggested that any mention of the undead would only make things worse.

"Smarasmôy, this is not right," Chuillyon called from farther back. "You know it!"

"This is not your domain," Cinder-Shard answered.

He continued on, leading the way into an adjoining cavern. With no orange crystals in its walls, the space was lit only by dim phosphorescence. Strangely shaped lumpy protrusions rose head-high among the shadowy columns of joined stalagmites and stalactites. But they crossed too quickly, exiting into another dim space before Wynn made out anything.

Amid the rush, something occurred to her—something Cinder-Shard had shouted.

Maksag, choyll-shu'ass Kêravägh!

Out … Leave … you dog of … Kêravägh?

Did he think the wraith was a minion of … what? Wynn was sickened at the possible answer as she tried to break apart that final word.

It had to be a proper noun, but seemed older than the Dwarvish she knew. The root "kêrakst" referred to "black" or "blackness." Not in color but as in nightfall, when twilight ended and the last of daylight vanished. But the suffix was baffling, like a root word conjugated to an infinitive—then declinated into a vocative noun?

"The Nightfallen One …" Wynn whispered absently. "The Nightfaller?"

Cinder-Shard slowed.

Wynn clenched her mouth shut, but he resumed his pace without glancing back. She grew chill as a connection formed, though she wasn't certain of her translation.

Hkàbêv meant "Beloved" in Iyindu, an ancient form of Sumanese. Il'Samar and in'Sa'umar in varied dialects meant "the Night Voice." Most Aged Father of the an'Cróan and Anmaglâhk had a very old Elvish term for it.

Nävâij'aoinis—the Ancient Enemy.

Had Cinder-Shard spoken a lost Dwarvish title for the enemy of many names? Was the enemy known among this hidden sect of dwarves?

They twisted rightward through more columns in another low-ceilinged cavern. Cinder-Shard stepped out into a long, straight tunnel.

Chuillyon had also whispered something before the wraith's fire had raced in. But Wynn's thoughts were so wrapped around Cinder-Shard's utterance that all she remembered for the moment was …

Chârmun … Sanctuary.

This was the name of the ancient great tree within Aonnis Lhoin'n—First Glade—at the heart of the Lhoin'na's homeland. That thought vanished as Wynn saw the path's end.