Barb Hendee - Through Stone and Sea

Crystals in the walls illuminated an archway of heavy framestones, but its opening was nearly black. Drawing closer, she saw it was walled off with age-darkened iron. There was no lock or handle, and Wynn grew frantic.

It looked like the triple-layered portal beneath the amphitheater. Her thoughts raced for a way to reason with the duchess, but she couldn't think of anything certain.

Cinder-Shard closed on the archway's left side.

Wynn heard metal slide evenly across stone, clinking to a stop, but she couldn't see around his broad form. More grating and clacks followed, and the archway's iron wall began to move. It slid left to right, rather than splitting down the middle, and behind it was another. The second door began grating after the first.

Cinder-Shard stepped aside, exposing an open stone cubby. A three-by-four grid of iron rods was pressed or protruded at varied depths. She'd seen something similar with her mantic sight on the other side of the amphitheater's door. But here, the lock was on the outside.

Wynn realized how Cinder-Shard had opened the amphitheater doors. He'd passed right through the wall, opening them from the inside. She and Chane possessed no such ability, and they were about to be locked away.

"Please!" she shouted, trying to turn. "You have to—"

She was cut short as someone grabbed the back of her collar. A third iron door began to open, and Cinder-Shard pointed into the darkness beyond it.

"Mind the landing," he warned. "Do not slip and fall."

"Inside!" the captain ordered.

A firm hand shoved Wynn between her shoulder blades.

She pulled Shade along before the dog turned to snap. Chane stumbled in next, wheeling about, and the captain warned him back with a sword. Cinder-Shard returned to the archway's side, and Wynn heard iron rods being shifted.

"The wraith is after the texts!" she cried. "It won't stop killing until it finds them!"

The first iron door was half-closed, and she sidestepped, leaning into the narrowing space.

"Give me access to the texts!" she shouted. "Let me find out what it wants … or something to help us fight it!"

Chane grabbed her, jerking her back as the door clanged shut.

Wynn shuddered twice in the full darkness, hearing the duller thud of the second and third doors.

Tightly holding her sea-wave comb with its drop of white metal, Reine hurried all the way to Frey's chamber. Danyel followed on her heels. Pressing the droplet to the lock, she opened the door. All of her pent-up fear threatened to break free.

"Frey!" she called.

He stood in the pool, gripping the gate's bars, and staring into the tunnel. When he looked back, he smiled softly, sadly at her. His hair was still soaked, but his gaze was clear.

"Highness?" Danyel whispered.

Reine glanced over her shoulder. He hung in the doorway, as if uncertain whether to enter or not. His nose had stopped bleeding, though he wiped it again with his sleeve. She cared only that Frey was unharmed—and in control of his wits.

Reine stepped to the pool's rear ledge, holding out her hand.

"Come," she called softly. "Please."

Frey waded over and reached up. As he took her hand, he gently pulled. Reine shook her head, trying to smile.

"No, I have to leave again. You come out of there."

She had to return quickly to Cinder-Shard and learn how he intended to ensure Frey's safety.

Frey didn't move until she pulled. He climbed up to stand before her, and nothing remained of his brief smile.

"It's all right," she said, touching his chest. "Danyel will stay."

Frey glanced at the bodyguard and frowned. Resentment was at least another sign he was rational. She knew what this looked like—what it was—and didn't care for putting him under guard any more than he did. There was no choice.

She walked him to the sitting chamber's entrance and ushered him inside, but as she turned to leave, she hesitated. Spinning back, she grabbed his arm, jerked him toward her, and clenched the front of his shirt with both hands.

Reine pulled herself up and Frey down, until her mouth pressed firmly against his. When she let go, she kept her eyes shut until she'd turned away.

Danyel stood at full attention, his gaze averted.

As she neared the door, she whispered sharply, "Don't let him near the pool."

Danyel nodded once, seeming unaffected by all that had happened. It was difficult to shake the Weardas—the Sentinels of the royal family. Then he surprised her, asking, "Highness, what if the … others … return?"

He glanced toward the tunnel at the pool's rear.

In truth, Reine would've preferred leaving Chuillyon with Frey, but she needed him and Tristan at her side.

"They won't," she assured him. "Not until tomorrow's highest tide. I'll return before then."

"My lady?" someone called softly.

Chuillyon stood in the outer passage.

"We should go," he said. "I must speak with Cinder-Shard."

Reine sighed in exasperation and stepped out, shutting the door and locking Frey and Danyel inside.

"Do not antagonize Cinder-Shard," she warned as they headed off. "We are guests, and Prince Freädherich is their cherished ward. This new threat is all that upstart sage's doing!"

Even so, she hadn't forgotten Wynn trying to reclaim the staff. The sage had shouted for it, as if lives depended on that simple object. In retrospect, Reine began to wonder.

Who was this black figure that created fire from nothing and made it run at them like something alive? She trembled at a murderer with such skills learning of Frey's presence.

When she and Chuillyon reached the intersection with the main passage, Captain Tristan was waiting, his expression impassive. She'd rarely seen him without his cloak, and he carried his helm under his arm. His cropped hair made him appear more human than the coldly fierce leader of the Weardas.

"Highness," he said, gesturing ahead.

Reine strode past him. Once they reached the main cavern, she slowed, spotting Cinder-Shard near another of the cavern's openings. Bulwark, the other elder, stood with him, glaring suspiciously at the staff in Cinder-Shard's grip. A movement among the calcified columns pulled her eyes.

Balsam, one of the females, paced a winding path toward the pair. Her head thrown back, she studied the cavern's ceiling.

Reine glanced up but couldn't guess what she was looking for.

Balsam was less wide than her comrades, with straight brown hair and a nose a bit flattened yet smoothly fitted between her rounded cheeks. Reine found her refreshing. For a cloistered Stonewalker, Balsam tended toward action first, questions later. Stoic Master Cinder-Shard and acidic Master Bulwark were much harder to fathom.

"Why did you stop us from forming a barrier?" Balsam called, lowering her gaze. "Now it can attack again at any time."

"Better us than our people above," Cinder-Shard returned. "And because I failed, it may be loose among them. Guardian Thänæ and constabularies will not stop it with ax, rod, or sword."

Balsam took a breath through her nose, blatantly dissatisfied with her elder's answer.

Reine looked around the cavern. A total of six Stonewalkers lived here deep beneath Dhredze Seatt, but only three were present. She didn't see Ore-Locks anywhere.

It had all happened so fast. Perhaps Amaranth and Thorn-in-Wine couldn't reach the battle in time. Amaranth was the other female of the group—and a healer before she took up a greater calling in the underworld. She was probably busy tending to Saln. As to Thorn-in-Wine, he could be daunting, like a younger version of Cinder-Shard.

Reine wondered about the missing three, especially Ore-Locks. He had been here for the battle, so where was he now?

The murderer hadn't entered directly with Wynn Hygeorht, but it had gained the underworld undetected. The unanswered question remained, How? Rumors during the killings in Calm Seatt suggested that it could walk through walls—like a Stonewalker.