Page 86 of Of Steel and Scale

“How in Vahree’s name did you get an entire town through here with any sort of speed?” I asked, fighting the urge to duck. Though I wasn’t quite six foot in height, the ceiling still felt uncomfortably close.

“We tend to be shorter around these parts, remember, and we’re well versed in emergency evacuations.”

No doubt, given how often tropical storms hit with little notice. Unlike most islands, there was no weather mage living on Jakarra—the old woman who’d held the position for nigh on a century had died a good ten years ago, and the island hadn’t had much luck luring a new one here.

We came across the first body around twenty feet in. He was face down on the ground, the glass point of an arrowhead sticking out the back of his helmeted head. Few men could survive a wound like that, but I nevertheless flicked fire at his helmet. A sword point could be ignored—I knew that from experience—but having your flesh lit or, in this case, your armor melting around your face? I doubted there was a man or woman alive who’d ignore that, no matter how stoic they were or what continent they were from.

He didn’t move. We stepped over him and walked on. The tunnel curved gently to the left, then opened out a fraction as we neared the entrance. Like the rest of the tunnel, it had a decided lean. It also had a “wing”—basically, a piece of rock that jutted out at an angle from the left, preventing anyone who might be below from seeing us. It had no top, however, so any rider flying past would spot us standing there.

I motioned Tayn to stop, then edged forward carefully and looked up. The skies were dark, without stars or moon, and the air crisp and still. The mountain rose above us, dark and brooding, but there was no sign of the sentry Rudy had mentioned. Hopefully that meant he wouldn’t see me. I moved to the end of the long outcrop and carefully peered around the end.

The first thing I noticed was the naked body lying halfway down the rough, debris-filled slope between us and the forest.

His skin was pale but heavily inked, though from where I stood, it was hard to make out what the images depicted. His wrists, neck, and his stomach had been sliced open, his entrails fat snakes that littered the ground around him. This was obviously the blood sacrifice, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d been a Jakarran defender or one of their own. As a general rule, inking had never been popular on the mainland, but it was amongst island fisherfolk; many liked to keep visual reminders of friends, conquests, and fishing triumphs to help them get through the often-long trips to find decent catches. Or so Garran had once told me.

Túxn, please don’t let him be dead.

I pushed away the grief that rose with the thought and studied the forests halfway down the slope. They were shadowed and dark, almost indistinguishable from the night itself. There were no campfires or anything else to indicate a force of men hid within those trees. Few military camps, whether small or large, were silent, so it likely meant no one was down there.

Unless, of course, they were using some sort of magical shield to cover their noise.

I couldn’t see Illistin from where we stood, but I could smell smoke, and there was a faint orange glow visible in the distance. She still burned.

Frustration stirred, as did anger. We had to find a way to stop these bastards before all of Arleeon met the same fate. Although right now, I’d settle for a means of protecting Esan against the riders, their birds’ acidic shit, and their mages. Hopefully, Damon could get in contact with his Angolan kin, and between them work out a protection spell large enough to shield Esan.

But that would take time.

Time we didn’t have.

Was that intuition, or simple fear? I suspected it might be a bit of both.

“Anything?” Tayn asked.

“No immediate indication they’re in the forest. Doesn’t mean they’re not there, of course.”

He stepped up beside me and peered out. Horror immediately flooded his expression.

“In Vahree’s name,” he whispered, “is that a warning? Or something else?”

“It’s a sacrifice.” My voice was grim. “Their mages were using his blood to raise their magic. If you look closely enough, you can see the disturbed stone just beyond him—that’s where Rudy opened his chasm and buried the bastards.”

“And thank Vahree he did. If this is what they intend to do to all?—”

“None of those in Eastmead met this fate.” At least, none of the ones I’d seen had, anyway. I guess it was possible the bottom layer of bodies might have been sacrificed in this manner, but something within doubted it. Eastmead had been utterly destroyed, but it was the destruction that came with a white-hot fire rather than the earth rising up. Of course, it was also very possible the intensity of the flameshadbeen a result of magic. “Did you know him?”

“His face doesn’t look familiar, but his inkings are reminiscent of ones done on Halcraft.”

Which was the second smallest island in the Jakarran cluster. If this man was from there, then that island and the three others might have already been decimated, though we’d had no word from them and there was no indication so far that was the case.

While it did make strategic sense to attack the largest island first, it was unlikely they’d have left the other four untouched.

I scanned the long expanse of slope then said, somewhat grimly, “What we need is a means of stopping any more of those riders or soldiers getting into this tunnel.”

“What about a trapping pit?” Tayn said. “With the weight of their armor, they shouldn’t be able to jump very far, so a deep pit around the entrance that also takes in the first couple of yards of the tunnel should more than do.”

I hesitated and glanced down. “The stone here is straight lava stone. It’s notoriously hard to excavate, especially for one man.”

“Then we just—” He stopped abruptly, cocking his head sideways. “What is that sound?”

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