Thanks. I shoved my sleeves further up my arms and then got to work. It took a lot longer to break open a wide enough space to get through than I’d thought—not because the stone didn’t break away easily enough, but because I had to place each piece down carefully, ensuring it didn’t move or cause the main slide to shift in any way.
With that done, I swung the pack around and opened it up. I’d munched on the cheese and bread as I’d driven to the mountains, so there wasn’t much left, but it was doubtful I’d need the rest of it given getting out of this place was highly unlikely.
I dropped the food onto the ground, covered it up with some soil, and then shook out the cloth to ensure there were no crumbs left. While the M185 blocks appeared plasticky and were more than likely waterproof, I doubted the same could be said of the detonation timers and pop caps. I wrapped them carefully in the cloth, then tore off an edge of my soaked shirt to keep it in place. With that done, I repacked the bag, checked there was no one on the outside walkway, and carefully eased through the hole I’d created. Once I’d dragged the pack out after me, I shoved it on and kept low as I scrambled across to the edge.
It really was a long way down. There was no way known I was going to hit the water without making an audible splash. Could you ease my speed as I near the water?
Yes, the wind said, but wait—there is movement below.
I waited, staring down at the black water, my pulse racing and my gut churning. It wasn’t so much the fear of the situation or of being discovered, but at jumping feet first into that ink and never coming up. If I had to die in this place, I wanted to do so fighting the enemy and taking some of the bastards out with me, not by being sucked into the murky depths of an inky lake.
Right, the air said. All clear if you’re quick.
I thrust to my feet and stood on the edge, but didn’t immediately jump. I continued to eye the dark water, imagining in my mind how I needed to slip into the water, putting it out into the general consciousness of the air in the vague hope that it would be so.
Then, with as deep a breath as I could take, I stepped off the edge. The air didn’t interfere, and it certainly didn’t hinder the speed with which I dropped—not until the very last moment. I entered the water feet first and with very little noise, but the sheer iciness just about tore a gasp from my throat. It was only force of will that kept my mouth clamped shut. As I plunged deeper, the backpack’s bulk hit the water, acting like something of a brake and just about tearing my shoulders out of their sockets. Then my head was under, the iciness and darkness all around me, and disorientation and fear set in. I closed my eyes—I couldn’t see anyway, so there was no point in keeping them open—and concentrated on holding my breath, on not panicking as I waited for the moment when the fall stopped and the natural buoyancy of my body kicked in and told me which way was up.
It seemed to take forever.
But as my lungs began to burn with the need for air, I finally stopped heading down and instead began to float. I kicked my feet as hard as I could and surged upward, breaking the surface with a rather unwise gasp. Thankfully, it didn’t immediately appear there were any Irkallan around to hear it. As I sucked in deep breaths, I turned around to see where the ramp was. It was across the other side of the shaft, but I didn’t dare risk swimming—or at least, paddling—directly across to it. Instead, I gently kicked to the nearby wall and kept close to its shadowed side, trying to make as little noise as possible. By the time I reached the submerged portion of the walkway, my body was shaking with both the cold and effort, and my legs initially refused to support my weight. I staggered out of the water and then gently shook my arms and feet, trying to get my blood flowing again and some warmth back into my digits.
Be still, the air warned. There is a patrol above you.
I stopped moving but the water continued to drip from my body and uniform, and it was all I could do to clamp my lips down in an effort to stop my teeth from chattering.
From the level above me came the soft scrape of nails against stone. I carefully pushed back against the wall, trying to make myself as small as possible. The clicking of mandibles came from directly above me, but I dared not look. My skin might not be as pale as Saska’s, but it was still light enough to be seen by a keen eye even in this ink.
A heartbeat later came a second clashing of mandibles, this time to the right of the first. Obviously, they were having a discussion of some sort, and I wished I could understand what they were damn well saying…. The thought trailed off.
I had heard and understood the Irkallan queen twice now, but both times had been when my skin—my stained skin—had been in contact with my knife.
I quickly wrapped my fingers around the hilt, but for several heartbeats, nothing happened. Then warmth began to throb through the weapon—warmth whose beat uncannily matched the throbbing that filled this place—and then both the glass blade and hilt started to glow softly. Thankfully, the sheath countered the blade’s glow, but tiny beams of brightness were leaking out between my fingers, forcing me to tug my jacket sleeve over my hand in order to hide it.
“Movement,” one of the Irkallan said. Its voice was oddly broken, as if it were coming through a microphone that wasn’t working properly. The queen’s orders had come through similarly garbled, so obviously whatever magic was allowing the knife—and even the bracelets—to translate the Irkallan language had its restrictions. “Below.”
“Yes. The mirror, it moves.”
“Water drips?”
“No.”
“Cannot scent anyone who should not be.”
“No.” The Irkallan paused. “Should place guard?”
“Waste. Attack coming from above.”
So I was right—the outposts were on the move. And that really did mean that I had to get moving if I wanted any hope of stopping their forces from getting overrun.
“Yes,” the other Irkallan said. “Fight not ours.”
“No.” There was a whole lot of frustration in that one word.
After a few more minutes, the two of them moved away. I swung the pack off and fished around until I found the bracelet. Then I carefully tore off another strip of shirt end, found a suitably heavy rock, and tied it and the bracelet together.
Right, I said to the wind, can you take this bracelet into the middle of the lake and carefully drop it in?
Fingers of air wrapped around the bundle in my hand and swept it away. I bent, grabbed a handful of the wet ashy soil that stained the rocks here, and rubbed it over my face and hands. With the possibility of my skin giving me away so easily taken care of, I cautiously made my way up the ramp, keeping as close to the wall as possible. As it curved around to the next level, I saw the two guards on the level above me. Unlike the ones I’d come across in that wide tunnel, these two were armed, and although the weapons were shaped like the long staffs the Adlin sometimes used, these were made from metal rather than wood. They also had blunt ends rather than sharp, which suggested they were something other than a spear. They were strapped crossways across the Irkallan’s backs, and I hoped like hell that’s exactly where they remained. I had no desire to discover just what those staffs were capable of.
I continued creeping around until I reached the level of the larger archway. I padded across to the shaft wall and hunkered down, scanning both this level and the ones above me. Aside from the two Irkallan who’d heard my movements coming out of the lake, there were another two coming back down the circular path. Four Irkallan didn’t seem anywhere near an appropriate number of guards given the size of this place, but I guessed centuries of never being infiltrated had given them reason enough not to be overly concerned about such an event.
It at least gave me a fighting chance of getting close to my targets.
I edged toward the large arch, but the scrape of nails told me an Irkallan was approaching. I swore and quickly looked around. The walkway was an open space, and there was no place to hide other than a nearby smaller arch.
Anyone in there? I asked the wind.