Paul Collins - Swords Of Quentaris

Frustrated, Rad brought his sword down hard on the eye. It bounced back, jarring his arms.

Again and again he slashed at the eye, but time and again his sword met with resistance. Finally, Rad gripped his sword by the pommel and drove it hard into the glass.

Vindon laughed maniacally. 'Go ahead —

destroy the demon's lair,' he cried.

Amid a shower of sparks the glass shattered.

Then some incredible invisible force ran through Rad and hurled him across the room. He tried to get up but his vision swam and blurred. Slowly he sank to the tiles and closed his eyes. Vindon's laughter followed him into sleep.

9. The Great EscapeTULCIA looked up at the gems almost hidden in the ceiling. Some lit up and she swore they followed her progress as she walked the length of the passageway. It was perhaps because of her preoccupation with them that three members of the Thieves' Guild managed to sneak up behind her.

She froze when a dagger pricked her skin.

'Look who it ain't,' growled a voice. Tulcia almost gagged at the man's breath. 'It's the ostler's stablehand. Your friend scarred me badly, wench!'

'Don't kill her yet!' said another voice. 'We'll slice her up slow until she hands over the map!'

'Where's that conniving partner of yours?'

said the first voice. At the same time Tulcia felt feather-fine fingers relieve her of the amulet of Rys. The body pat, as it was known, left her in no doubt that she had just been robbed of everything valuable.

Tulcia waggled her fingers. No way could she utter a sound with the knife edge cutting so finely into her throat.

Her assailant released pressure slightly. 'We're not murderers,' the man said almost apologeti-cally. 'But mistakes happen, if you get my meaning.'

Tulcia nodded slightly. 'I lost him,' she ventured. The man's forearm tensed and she squeaked. 'I did! One moment he was there, the next he wasn't.'

There was a murmur of assent. 'We lost

Wilmore like that,' one of them said. 'The walls are cursed. They live, Le'ard!'

Scepticism passed over Le'ard's pock-marked face. He hesitated before drawing his dirk from Tulcia's throat. 'There might be truth in that, all right,' he agreed. 'But if you are lost, then you are of no help to us—making you expendable.

Yes?'

Tulcia rubbed her neck. She thought her palm came away sweaty. It was in fact smeared with blood. 'Rad knows his way around the rift. He will come looking for me.'

The one known as Le'ard touched his forehead as though concentrating. His hand was bandaged with a bloody rag. 'It may be, or it may be not. Move. That way.'

Tulcia moved forward. They had apparently been unaware of the hidden passageways, and although Le'ard gave Tulcia back her sword, this new knowledge drew them, together in a tight, knot, each casting fearful looks at every inch of jutting rock.

A strange ululating sound woke Rad—that and

the smell of something burning. Sparks were spitting from the panel where he had smashed the glass. Vindon was cursing, something about the red and green gems being fake — either glass or some barbaric replica. Each had lost its lus-trous colour when he had removed it from the polished metal casing.

'Maybe they were living but you killed them with your dagger,' Rad mumbled.

Vindon glared at him. 'The place has been magicked by a sour magician,' he said. He kicked savagely at some dangling wires that hissed and spat.

Rad dragged himself to the panel where he had seen Tulcia. It was blank now, as though it faced a void. This was potent magic — make no mistake. The map confirmed his thoughts. The map! It lay on the smooth surface of the panelling. Rad flattened it out on the metal table.

All of the map's mysterious icons were shining now, as though the artifact was gaining power.

Rad looked down and saw that his bracelet seemed to be emitting a high-pitched whine.

Then from within the map's pattern there appeared hair-fine lines of dazzling red, blue and

green. A fairy picture of a solid map began expanding from the parchment. It grew in size and both Rad and Vindon floundered back from it.

It grew larger and larger, until the two Quentarans were almost forced through the door to escape its ever-expanding boundaries.

'Surely this is evil magic!' Vindon swore.

'Faith and courage.'

The words came from nowhere, yet every-where. Vindon and Rad drew their swords simul-taneously.

To Vindon the words were spoken by the very devil himself. To Rad, they were words of advice.

'It's a map,' Rad whispered. 'A map of every cave.' He stepped forward to be embraced.

'Then it's mine!' Vindon hissed and rushed past Rad.

There was a blinding flash and Vindon screamed. His body became enmeshed in a grid-work of darting, red-lit lines. His body convulsed as blue and red tendrils slithered snake-like around him, probing, enveloping.

'Help me!' Vindon screeched. It's burning me up!'

Rad took a hesitant step forward but slivers of

sizzling light struck out at him. He narrowly avoided a vicious slash as a barb of light shot past his face.

Rad shielded his eyes, but even as he did so the lines of pulsating light circled Vindon's body and, starting at his feet, engulfed him like a whirlpool, until he vanished without a trace.

The map glowed brightly where Vindon had entered it, then his outline dispersed and the luminous lines became clear and defined once again.

.

Rad swallowed. Faith and courage. Faith that he would not meet Vindon's fate? And courage to do what someone else had failed at? Rad shook his head. 'I don't think so,' he said, but inexplicably he strode forward and became bathed in the unnatural light.

Tulcia hastened when she heard screaming.

Le'ard urged his men forward while he took up the rear.

They were running when Rad appeared in the middle of a brightly lit corridor.

'Rad!' Tulcia said, startled.

The thieves ran into her back and stared wide-

eyed at what they thought was an apparition.

'We need to get out of here,' Rad said calmly.

'The rift has served its purpose and is now obsolete.'

Tulcia's face clouded. 'Rad?' she said dubiously.

This was not Rad as she knew him. His voice had changed, and the words he spoke were not his.

'I'll skewer you like a stuck pig if you can't prove you're Rad de La'rel!'

Rad smiled wanly. 'You'll have better use of Whispering Amber before this quest is over.'

Tulcia let her sword dip.

Le'ard stepped forward. If there be gems in that cave, we'll not leave without them.'

Rad stepped to one side. 'Be my guest.'

While Le'ard and his brothers-in-arms hesitated, Tulcia rushed to Rad's side.

Le'ard uttered a curse. 'You first.'

Rad shook his head. 'I don't think so. We're leaving. Join us if you will, but we must leave now.' After saying this, he and Tulcia stepped past the thieves, but Le'ard barred their way.

'Where is Vindon?' Le'ard's face darkened.

'There's a price on his head and I want it!'

Rad whipped Death Bringer from its scabbard.

'It needn't be like this,' he said cautiously. Already Le'ard's brethren had fanned out. They were veteran alley fighters — not expert swordsmen, but nonetheless lethal adversaries. Three to two, Rad mused. Not good odds in anyone's books. Cunning and streetwise tactics won over conventional skill any time — despite what sagas told of heroes defeating insurmountable odds.

Le'ard took the initiative and lunged first. He kept his sword well in front of him, ensuring he had sufficient room to retreat.

Rad met his lunge with an expert parry, while Tulcia met the advance of Le'ard's men. The latter attacked as one, with swift feints and lightning fast stabs.