The growl in reply was sullen, but did not argue.
Khiara pushed off from Annon’s shoulder and floated away from him. Using her staff like a ferry pole, she maneuvered away from a nearby column and then came to land on a carved sarcophagus lid. She straightened, setting her balance. Then she swished the staff around in a broad circle, again and again. The serpents hissed and converged on her, slithering in haste to reach her. A broad smile passed on Annon’s mouth. Many of the serpents went over his boots and around him to reach her. There were still too many nearby to risk moving.
“They followed me,” Khiara said. “I will go farther.”
“Be careful,” Annon pleaded. His knees and ankles were restless.
With another gulp of air, he watched her lift off and soar across the chamber to another bier, even farther away. When she landed there, she began circling the staff again, in long broad sweeps. The serpents attacked again, slithering straight toward her with ferocity. The floor by Annon was nearly bereft of the creatures. He waited, watching them writhe toward her, as if hypnotized by her gleaming pale staff. She stopped suddenly, bewildering the serpents and then leapt again, moving to the next stone lid.
There were only three serpents nearby, all three of them investigating Erasmus’s body. Annon stared at them, willing them to follow their brethren away. Khiara began sweeping her staff in circles again, drawing the snakes to the farthest portion of the chamber. He could make her out in the dim light, but only barely. The three serpents were not following the others. In his mind, he summoned the words to tame fire and then brought a small orb of blue flames into his hand. He stared at the pulsing colors and then noticed all three serpents had stopped and were staring at him. He released it, tossing it over them and watching as it rolled across the stone like a magical ball. The three serpents hovering around Erasmus rushed at it, hissing and striking at the flames, though each was unhurt by it.
As they streaked away, Annon watched for signs of others. Finding none, he moved, walking swiftly to the fallen body of the Rike who had been crushed by the sarcophagus lid. Dried blood had formed a rivulet on his cheek. Annon glanced up at Khiara and saw snakes had spied his movement and were coming at him, slithering across the stone swiftly.
He grasped the cold metal of the torc and then twisted it around so that the open ends were in the back of the man’s neck, facing the floor, instead of being open at his collar. Being so near the corpse made bile rise in Annon’s throat.
A prick of danger in his mind warned him too late. Nizeera growled and screamed and launched herself from the bier. He heard her land behind him, whipped his head around in time to see her snatch a serpent in her teeth and then hurl it away. He saw the bristling fur, the rage in her eyes as she faced the advancing serpents, planting her claws forward defensively.
Annon grasped the ornamental torc with both hands and yanked with all his strength. It was a tight fit around the Rike’s neck and resisted. Planting his foot down on the dead man’s back, he pulled a second time, wresting it free. It came loose suddenly and he flew backward, colliding with the sharp edge of the broken sarcophagus. Pain caused spots to dance in his eyes.
“Nizeera, go!” he shouted, scrambling to his feet.
The great cat hissed and struck at another serpent, catching it with her claws and flinging it aside.
“Nizeera!” he shouted again, springing up and inside the sarcophagus, clutching the torc to his body. She raced away and vaulted up onto another carved lid, her tail lashing triumphantly once before falling perfectly still. He felt the surge of pride come because she had risked herself for him as well a flood of relief. Their emotions were always mixed together.
“Do you have it?” Khiara called from afar.
“Yes,” Annon said, smiling. He stared down at the twisting design, made of bronze it appeared. The symbols were more decorative than arcane, but the look was ancient and had many nicks and scratches. There were two blue gems, shaped as polished spheres, set into each end. Staring closely at them, he could see swirling mist inside each, and little fireflies of magic within. He wished he could hear the spirits trapped inside.
I will free you, he promised. When our journey is through, I will free you. I will free all of you.
He stared at the torc, wondering if he should put it on himself. He remembered how Paedrin had been overcome when putting on a ring the Arch-Rike had given him. He wondered if he would even be able to control its magic.
There was a grinding noise nearby. Annon’s head jerked suddenly at the sound as one of the doors they had entered through was dragged open.
“Annon!” shouted a familiar voice, thick with fear and dread. It was Lukias.