Page 75 of Vow of the Shadow King

My heart leaps, suddenly alive with nameless feelings so strong they steal my breath away. “Vor,” I whisper one last time. “Don’t go. Don’t leave.”

Then he faces forward in his saddle and rides on. Beyond my sight. Gone.

31

VOR

I almost wonder if I imagined that glimpse of her, high up on her balcony. The way she leaned over the rail with her pale white shoulders bare and her golden hair tumbled across her bosom. It’s too much like a dream, too much like the deepest longings of my heart to be real.

I turn away, face the road ahead of me. I cannot let my thoughts dwell on Faraine right now. I cannot wish I’d marched up to her room, to speak with her before venturing out. There is no time. Not for Yok, nor for Toz and the others. Besides, what could I say? I can make her neither promises nor apologies. To apologize for the time we’ve had together would be like apologizing to an angel for receiving a blessing bestowed. I can never regret what she gave so willingly . . . only what I could not give in return.

But we are not destined for one another. Fate or the gods or both have conspired against us. The price has now come due on those beautiful moments we so joyfully took—a price neither of us is prepared to pay.

Better to focus on the mission at hand. I will find Yok. I will make certain he’s all right and safely returned to his family. I sent the boy on this mission. If something happens to him, I will never forgive myself.

“Drag-hrukta!”I cry and spur Knar forward. My beast leaps from the cobbled road and the other morleth surge into flight behind him. Together we soar above the city, pass over rooftops and roads, over the domed temple and the hovels, over Market Rise, and all the familiar sites that make up Mythanar as I know it. I find myself looking for Sul and Hael on either side of me. But my brother remains in Madame Ar’s infirmary, and my captain stands outside Faraine’s bedchamber door. I am bereft without them. As though both my right and left arms have been hewn from my body, and I’m left maimed and alone to face whatever dangers await.

We fly over the high city gates, out to the chasm bridges which connect the city to the cavern walls. I turn in my saddle. “Lead the way!” I call to Lur, who rides on my right.

She looks gray and strained following her ordeal. Worried for Toz and the others, no doubt, and guilty for returning without them. Bravely, she turns her morleth’s head downward. We follow her, plunge into the chasm below the city, down under the bridges. Down, down, and deeper still, until the rising fury of the fiery river makes our armor heat and sweat break out across our skin.

I’m just starting to think we cannot safely venture lower, when Lur pulls on her morleth’s head and guides it into level flight. Down here in the dark, far from the cavern lights and the glow of the city, the morleth are much happier, fluid and graceful, like inky black smears, only just holding onto their physical form. Lur gives a whistle and points to a crack in the stone wall.

I narrow my gaze. She cannot be serious! Is this the opening to the lair she reported? Did Toz and the others pursue thewogghatrail all the way down here, under the foundations of the city itself? Somehow, until this moment, I’d not believed it truly possible.

Our morleth fly in a holding pattern, circling on the hot updrafts of air from the river below. That cavern entrance is much too small for a morleth. We’ll have to leave our mounts behind. I signal four of my riders to follow me, including Lur. Then, guiding Knar as close to the wall as I dare, I gauge the distance and spring from the saddle. For a terrible, weightless instant, I hang in the air above that death-plunge. Then I hit the wall, grapple, catch hold of the ledge. In a few quick, heaving breaths, I haul myself into place and stand in the opening of the cave.

The darkness is deep. And hot. Even with thelorstcrystal on my helm ignited, I feel as though the shadows will crush me. Nevertheless, I step into the cave, making room for Lur and the other three to join me. “Where next?” I ask once they’ve caught their breaths and stand in the darkness with me, eyes bright in the crystal glow.

“Straight ahead,” Lur says. “The tunnel curves and takes a steep plunge in about twenty feet, but it does not branch.” She hesitates a moment before adding, “I should lead the way, my King.”

But I shake my head. If there are indeed a hundredwogghawaiting for us at the end of this dark path, I won’t send anyone ahead of me to act as my living shield. “Stay close. Stay wary,” I say. Then, drawing my sword, I set out down the narrow path. It’s difficult not to imagine the too-close walls are closing in. But despite my human blood, I am trolde at heart. I will not give in to such weakness. The dark under stone is where I belong.

I angle my head to let thelorstlight illuminate my path, choosing my footsteps with care. While I’m no expert, I suspect this cave is a relatively new formation caused by one of the recent stirrings. A perfect hiding place for any number ofwoggha.

Thelorstgleams on a wall ahead of me, revealing a smear of blue. Blood.

I stop. Lur steps close behind me, “We’re getting close,” she whispers.

“Do you recognize this way?” I ask.

She shakes her head, her face uncertain beneath her helmet’s brim. “I don’t remember these landmarks, but . . . that blood . . . One of the beasts grabbed Hud and dragged him off. That’s when Toz and Yok went after him, and the ground gave way under their feet.”

I nod. Glancing back, I look into the wide eyes of the others, crowded in the narrow space behind me. I give a signal for silence. If there are indeed cave devils near, the least sound could disturb them, draw their attention. We progress again, more cautious than ever, our footsteps nearly soundless as we inch our way along.

Suddenly, my light gleams on an edge of stone at my feet. Beyond is nothing but pitch-black emptiness. We seem to have found the pit. I lift my head, try to see beyond the black. My circle of light can just reach the far side where the path picks up again. Sheer walls rise on either hand, and below . . . Well, below might as well be a mouth straight to the deepest of the nine hells.

Lur inches up behind me, her voice a faint hiss in my ear. “That’s where they fell,” she said. “Toz. Yok. And the others.”

I nod. Then, cautiously, I creep up to the edge of the break, put my head over, and shine mylorstlight down inside. At a single tap of my finger, it brightens, extending its light over a wider radius.

I drag in a sharp breath.

I was right. This is the mouth to hell. And all along the walls of the pit are hell’s devils, clinging to the stone. Their eyeless faces are tucked under their hairless arms. They dangle, suspended by their great hooked claws. There’s more than a hundred. A lot more. Two hundred, three hundred . . . I cannot see them all. I never imagined the solitarywogghacapable of congregating like this. And not so far up. They are Deep Dwellers, belonging in the low country, down among the fiery rivers. Yet here they are.

I swing my head silently, trying to take in everything that I see. A flash of silver, and I turn sharply for a second look. Armor. A backplate. It’s one of my men, nearly fifty feet below. Could he have survived such a fall? Perhaps not. But I must discover for certain.

I turn, catch Lur’s eye. She shakes her head, unable to speak for fear. “Wait here,” I mouth to her. Her eyes widen, and I know she would protest if she dared. Thank the gods I didn’t bring Hael with me. She would never allow me to attempt what I’m about to do.

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