Paul Collins - Swords Of Quentaris

Tulcia frowned and shielded her eyes. 'Seems like there's trouble down at the Last and First Station,' she said.

Although Rad couldn't see too clearly at this distance, he could guess who was causing problems; either Vindon Nibhelline or the Thieves'

Guild. Neither would want to pay a toll —Vindon Nibhelline because his clan thought they owned the city, and the Thieves' Guild because if someone didn't bow to their bidding, they would threaten to steal the very bed from under them.

Since the guards feared their commanders more than they feared the Nibhellines, and didn't worry about the thieves because they had nothing worth stealing, Rad could well imagine the cause of the problems below. The sooner he and Tulcia got out of here the better he'd feel.

He stood up and brushed himself down.

'Probably someone who wants a cheap adventure with no frills,' he joked.

Tulcia sighed and rose as well. Without further comment, she led her mount forward as though walking on a tightrope, her hands out to either side. She turned, keeping a firm rein on her horse. 'One wrong step and it's goodnight Rad and Tulcia. Place one foot directly in front of the other and keep your horse dead centre.

And hold him by the bit, not the rein.'

'I'm not a pleb!' Rad fumed. He got up and changed his footing and his grip on the horse.

'No, you're not,' Tulcia observed. 'But you'll do as you're told.'

Rad shut his mouth. He would soon teach the show-off a lesson or two. She might know more about horses and pitchforks, but when it came to swordplay, he, Rad de La'rel, was more than ade-quately trained. Hulk Duelph had promised to buy him a shortsword but the City Watch had thrown Hulk in the dungeons on the two hun-dredth anniversary of the Battle of Begonias.

Rad caressed his sword's pommel and lifted the steel an inch from its unoiled scabbard.

Perhaps he should name it? He wouldn't tell anyone. He could just name it for himself. How about Death Slayer? Or Death Bringer? Something with 'Death' in it, anyway.

With Tulcia leading the way, the pair headed for a boulder that was marked on the map. 'I think this is it, although it looks bigger and grander on the map.'

Rad frowned. 'This is a pebble by comparison.

It can't be right.'

Tulcia pulled a spyglass from her saddlebag.

After a quick scout around, she shrugged. 'There's

nothing else vaguely similar. This map could have been made centuries ago. Perhaps bits have fallen off the rock over time.'

'The labels could've been written by that rogue Jael just last year.'

Tulcia shook her head. 'I've been thinking about that. Jael's the best forger in Quentaris, and he wouldn't have wanted it known that he'd swindled anyone in power. He pays both the Nibhelline and the Duelph families protection money. And since the map might have fallen into either of their hands, he would have been doubly cursed. No, the writing didn't come from his quill.'

Rad shaded his eyes against the harsh sun.

'The shadow from the Scar, look!'

Tulcia put her spyglass away. A dark shadow was crawling along the cliff. Soon, it turned a golden orange, and burst so brightly that both Tulcia and Rad had to shield their eyes.

'Mark it!' Rad shouted, rubbing the stars from his eyes.

'Just to the left of that rock shaped like a finger,' Tulcia said excitedly. 'That must be it!

The entrance to the Scar!'

Rad froze.

'Rad?'

'Look at the map!' he gasped. It's flaring. As though it knows where it is ...'

Tulcia blinked at the brightness and quickly rolled it up. 'Pray this map was only ensorcelled by a Quentaran mage, Rad. You know what rift magic can do.'

'It's not rift magic,' Rad scoffed. 'C'mon!'

They scrabbled along the ridge until it was impossible to take their horses further. 'We'll have to leave them,' Tulcia said. 'They wouldn't fit into the Scar anyway.'

'According to legend the Scar is impassable to anyone—and the eye discerns this to be true.'

According to legend the Scar is a great many things,' Tulcia observed. 'Legends are normally a lot of horse dung. Anyway, unless you feel like lowering the horses down to the entrance, we have no choice but to leave them here.'

For once Rad agreed with her. He paused to think that the guards down below would get their horses whether or not they returned within three

days. 'There's nothing to tether them to,' he said.

'The horses know their way home.' Tulcia cocked her head and grinned. 'They'll head off as soon as we're out of sight. Those pathetic soldiers won't get them. And if they try ...'

They unstrapped their provisions and Tulcia unwound a length of rope and made a noose to hang over the boulder. 'I hope you know how to do this. You need to hold on to the rope firmly, and let it out just as your legs hit the rock. If you get the rhythm right, it's easy riding.'

Rad inspected the noose. 'It should hold, although I would've used a Thielson knot myself.

You go ahead. I'll wait till you whistle that you're safe.'

'Hmm.' Tulcia disappeared over the ledge and Rad scurried over to the lip to watch how she fared. It looked simple enough. One hand over the other, legs pushing off at the same time, bouncing out and then back, hands switching again, and so on.

Suddenly the rope went slack. Rad pricked his ears. Sure enough, Tulcia had just whistled. She'd done it. She'd actually found a ledge down there!

He eased himself over the edge. His feet immediately slipped on the granite and he wound up flat-faced against the cliff. 'Ugh!'

'Rad!' Tulcia's hollow voice echoed up.

Rad held his breath, sure that Tulcia must hear his ragged and desperate breathing above the howling wind. 'Coming,' he called. 'Just wanted to check that knot of yours!'

Tulcia called something back but Rad was too busy trying to get his feet to meet with the cliff.

After digging slight grooves into the crumbling granite, Rad finally found purchase. His wrists were already swollen from unaccustomed use.

One hand over the other, push off with both feet

— or was that kick off first, and then switch hands?

Rad pushed out and let go. 'Ugh!' He tumbled twice, skidded against the rock and somehow tangled himself in the rope. It pulled him up short and the pressure around his chest squeezed the air out of him.

'Is everything all right up there?' Tulcia's voice sounded clearer now. Almost next to him.

Rad opened his eyes. He was hanging upside

down. Somehow he was staring at Tulcia — only she wasn't the right way up.

'When you stop clowning around we can get going,' Tulcia said icily.

Rad looked up. His legs were intertwined with the rope. He looked back to Tulcia. 'Sure thing.'

Unfurling his legs proved harder than he imagined. Finally, he untangled them and dropped like a rock onto the narrowest of ledges. If Tulcia hadn't clutched him by his belt buckle, he might have windmilled back and off the ledge.

I'd suggest you don't look down,' Tulcia advised him. It's called vertigo.'

'I know that,' Rad said, brushing aside her hand. 'Oh my Odd Gods, look at the Scar!'

'Careful!' Tulcia snapped. She had Whispering Amber out. Its point seemed to touch rock, but somehow didn't. It went through the cliff face as though it were an illusory facade.

'It's bewitched!' Rad exclaimed.

Tulcia grunted. She kept brushing the illusion with the sword point until she met with solid rock. She picked up a handful of pebbles and marked the spot. Deftly, she smote the air on the

other side of the cave's mouth, and met similar resistance. Having marked out the width, Tulcia waved the sword to find the mouth's height, but the steel simply vanished through the illusion.

'It's as high as we need it,' she said. 'Isn't this the most amazing thing you've ever seen?'. She reached out and tried touching the mirage, but her fingers slipped through it and disappeared beyond. The rock face rippled.