Age of Swords (The Legends of the First Empire #2)

If not for Minna, they never would have known Brin had been taken.

The wolf brought them awake with her barks, and in that fleeting moment, Persephone caught sight of the girl. She was being hauled away, a pale hand clamped over her mouth, her heels kicking weakly against unforgiving stone. Then she was gone, lost to the darkness.

“Brin!” Persephone shouted.

Scooping up the glowing shard beside her, Persephone scrambled to her feet and chased after Brin. She hadn’t thought to grab a shield, and thanked Mari that she’d slept with the sword belt on, the weapon still in its scabbard. Persephone didn’t remember falling asleep. She had sat up, watching over the others in case the raow came. Just a precaution, she hadn’t thought it really would. There were ten of them, counting the wolf, and only one raow—at least she’d only seen one. She’d considered assigning shifts to keep watch but thought sleep was more important.

So, so stupid!

Having lost sight of everything familiar, Persephone stopped running and stood among the black-and-white squares of a checkerboard floor, completely lost.

This can’t be happening. “Brin!” she screamed, her voice echoing in the vast hall.

No answer.

Oh, holy Mari, please no!

Panning the light around, she saw half a dozen corridors and archways. Brin could be down any of them. How much time did she have to find her?

Brin’s voice replayed in her mind. What part of “they eat people’s faces” didn’t you hear?

Running footsteps approached, and Moya rushed into the glow of Persephone’s stone. “Where is she?” Moya exclaimed, her eyes huge, her breath coming in short gasps.

“I don’t know. I don’t know!” Persephone yelled back, continuing to pan the glowing stone, cupping it the way Rain had instructed.

She spotted a light back toward camp. Rain had chipped another shard and was searching as well.

“We have to find her!” Moya nearly shouted.

“I know that. Don’t you think I know that?” Persephone peered into each corridor for any sign, any indication about where Brin had been taken; she found nothing. Maybe if they had more light they might find clues like footprints in the dust, but Persephone didn’t see any.

“Minna will find her,” Suri said. The mystic trotted up with the animal at her side. “Won’t you, Minna?”

The wolf was still bristling her fur and had an ugly snarl on her lips. She wasn’t even looking at the corridors. Minna was growling at the stairs.

“They went down,” Suri said.

That was all Persephone needed. She was running again. They all were. The wolf outpaced the rest, her nails scraping the stone as she leapt down, yipping as she went. Persephone remembered being chased by wolves in the forest, but this time she was the one pursuing, a member of the pack.

Persephone took the stairs three and four at a time. Moya ran alongside with her spear, but there was no sign of her shield.

Minna didn’t pause at the bottom; she went right on down the next flight, and the flight after that until Persephone lost track. Finally, they reached the bottom of the staircase, and the wolf sprinted into the darkness. Suri, who was as quick and nimble as a deer, was close behind. Persephone and Moya followed. Meanwhile, somewhere behind them, Roan, Arion, and the dwarfs brought up the rear.

Persephone almost slammed into a pile of rubble, and Moya just managed to leap a toppled metal pole that looked to have been some sort of lamp. Debris was strewn everywhere: broken stone, collapsed pillars, and fallen arches. Ahead, they still heard Minna, but the wolf’s barks had turned to howls and then a threatening growl.

“She’s caught it,” Suri announced.

Another few strides and Persephone saw the wolf. Minna was crouched, ready to fight. Suri was closing in. Ahead of them stood the raow, still holding Brin with one long hand clamped over her mouth. Persephone focused the light and saw it clearly for the first time. Pale as the underbelly of a dead fish, the thing was tall, lanky, and thin. Its arms could touch the floor with barely a bend to its back. Long, thin strands of black hair hung from a grotesque head, the locks shrouded much of its body like a brittle cloak. Just as Suri said, it had claws, sharp-pointed nails of ebony, and when it hissed at Minna, Persephone saw yellow teeth and bleeding gums.

Brin was still struggling, but she was held off balance by powerful arms. Stifled shouts and indistinguishable screams leaked through the raow’s palm. The creature had stopped its flight, and with the light of her shard, Persephone saw why. Behind the raow, the floor was missing. Smooth marble tiles could be seen twenty feet beyond, but in between was the darkness of a gaping chasm. The floor, the width of the entire chamber, had broken away, leaving the raow trapped against a massive hole.

Suri stopped short and crouched beside Minna, glancing back. Beside her, Moya took a firm double-handed grip on the spear as Persephone drew her sword—no fear this time, no hesitation. She was going to kill that thing for touching Brin.

Then, as all of them watched, the raow threw Brin off the edge.

The girl screamed. Persephone stared in horror at Brin’s flailing arms and legs as down into darkness she went. Her scream trailed for some time and then was cut horribly short.

Persephone stopped, as did Moya, both paralyzed in disbelief. Persephone felt as if her breath had been stolen, and she couldn’t find another. The creature took several steps toward them, turned, and in a wild, running leap jumped the gap, barely catching the far side with its clawed hands. It hung there for the briefest of moments, and then pulled itself to safety.

Persephone ran forward, hit the floor, crawled to the edge, and looked down. Even with the light, she only saw darkness below. “Brin!”

“Oh, sweet Mari!” Moya exclaimed.

The others arrived. Rain joined his light to hers, helping to illuminate the tragedy below.

“Where’s Brin?” Roan asked.

Persephone couldn’t answer.

“What’s it doing?” Arion asked, looking across the chasm at where the raow climbed a tilted pillar.

The chamber was a mess of turmoil and wreckage. Parts of the ceiling had been shattered, and a few columns, freed from their loads, stood balancing on their plinths. The raow jumped to one of these freestanding pillars and continued to climb. At the top, it braced itself against a nearby wall and the remaining ceiling and began to push with its legs.

The pillar moved. Hardly noticeable, but it did rock slightly. Realization descended on Persephone. The hole in the floor that Brin had fallen through was long and thin—the size and shape of a toppled pillar. The raow was aiming another at them. Even if it missed, the massive column of stone would take out the rest of the floor.

“Help!” Brin’s tiny voice wafted up from the abyss. “Help me!”

“Brin?” Persephone looked back down, still unable to see anything. “Are you all right?”

She waited—they all did—no answer.