Corvan stumbled on the uneven pathway alongside the river. As soon as he recovered, he glanced back down at the water slipping by. To his relief, there were only a few patches of white foam floating along beside him.
He put his head down and focused on the road, but his stomach continued churned at the memory of the Rakash leader calling out the name his mother had given him. The one-handed man obviously knew it was not chasing Tarran but how did it know that Corvan’s mother had called him Kalian? Forcing his attention to the inner wall of the river road, he plodded forward on shaking legs.
Jorad pushed firmly on one side of the poles to moved them away from the water. The man didn’t like being close to the water, but Corvan didn’t appreciate being pushed along by Jorad, especially since the man had secretly taken the black knife. He didn’t know much about Jorad, yet his own life and Kate’s fate were now solidly in the man’s hands.
If it weren’t for the fact that Madam Toreg was behind this plan to leave Kadir and the City of Refuge, he would be even more nervous about this trip out to the settlements. If the leader of the Rakash had been swept away, then it might have been better to return with Kate the healer in the City of Refuge. He shook his head and muttered to himself, “No point in second guessing. We can’t go back regardless with the bridge broken.”
“What’s that?” Jorad asked sharply.
“Nothing,” Corvan replied.
Jorad grunted and pushed harder on the poles.
The road rose slowly higher over the water until the high crags against the cavern wall on the far side came to an end. At that point, the path turned to the left and swept downward to the farthest point of the cavern. Where it ended, a dense mist hung in the air, along with the faint roar of a waterfall.
The walked on in silence a long way before Jorad spoke up. “This levee guides the river to the falls by the edge of the Cor. We can’t get up to the settlements that way. We need to leave the wall up ahead at the dam and the sluice gates, go down into the fields, then climb up to the settlement entrances.” The tone of Jorad’s words was that of a man resigned to something he dreaded.
Corvan looked over the wall at a scene he immediately recognized: fields in carefully ploughed rows. Up ahead a wide elevated aqueduct stuck out beneath the road they were walking on, then branched out to even smaller channels, separating the fields below into a patchwork of irrigation lines that fanned out like the veins on an aspen leaf in fall. Between the dry aqueducts, neat rows of plants crisscrossing the ploughed fields, but all the small plants lay withered in the dusty earth. Beyond the fields, a steep slope with a switchback trail rose up the side of the cavern.
“Is there another way?” he asked Jorad.
“Not to save your Kate.” The words were bitter. “But each step we take away from Kadir decreases our chances of rescuing Tyreth.”
Corvan walked on deep in thought. Although he had promised Madam Toreg he would help save Tyreth, how could they possibly take Kate up to the settlements and rescue Tyreth at the same time? Once they got to the settlement and found their healer, they could try to figure it out then but there was no point in discussing it now.
Just ahead, a low building stuck over the river on sturdy pylons. Between the columns of rock, water rushed over a partially submerged dam that directed the water under the road and into the main aqueduct. The poles in his hands twisted as Jorad directed him away from the river toward an opening in the wall on the field side of the levee road. Corvan stepped through the gap onto a narrow stair that zigzagged its way down to the fields.
They went down two flights of stairs before Jorad abruptly stopped.
“Taking the stairs down to the fields will take too long. Step up inside the main aqueduct and we will go straight ahead to the settlement path. My brother and I used to do this all the time when we were younger, especially when the aqueduct was dry, like it is now.”
Corvan raised his end of the litter and stepped over the raised side of the aqueduct. The sides of the watercourse were quite low, with the fields a good twenty feet below them. Jorad might be afraid of water, but for Corvan, it was the height that made him nervous. He focused on moving his slippered feet along the smooth bottom, noting the sluice gates that would have allowed water to flow into the secondary channels that fanned out over the valley floor.
“What happened to the crops?” Corvan asked.
“There’s no longer enough light to grow our food here.” Jorad missed his step from likely looking out over the fields and Kate’s litter tipped dangerously close to the edge of the aqueduct. He recovered and then spoke again. “At first, nobody noticed that lumiens were going missing and our light was fading. But as soon as people realized the seeds of our lumiens were being eaten, everyone tried to get a share for themselves, either to eat or to hide away and grow their own food. Lumiens need a critical mass to sustain themselves and now there are not enough of them left. Unless there is a miracle, Kadir will also fall into darkness.” He sighed heavily. “Maybe the people who face the water ceremony are the fortunate ones.”
Corvan’s heart sank along with the hopelessness in the man’s voice. “Jorad, I really don’t know how to use this hammer or what I can do to help, but if the healer at the settlement can make Kate better, keep her alive longer . . . then I would leave her with the healer and go back to the city with you to rescue Tyreth.”
Jorad did not answer and as they walked on, Corvan wondered if Jorad’s silence meant he didn’t think Corvan would be much help or if the priest thought it was already too late to help Tyreth.
The main aqueduct entered into a dry pool at the base of the cavern walls. Beyond the dry pond, stone walls separated the incline into terraces of dead vegetation, a narrow path snaking its way up and over the walls on short sets of stairs at each switchback.
Corvan’s arms were aching from carrying Kate’s litter and the steep face that loomed ahead tired him out just looking at it. He was hoping for a brief rest, but Jorad pushed them through the dry pool, up the other side and onto the path. Reaching the first corner, Corvan turned to face the stairs that rose through an enclosed opening in the retaining wall. Putting his head down, he struggled up the steps.
Reaching the top stair, he raised his eyes to find an incredibly tall man armed with a bow waiting for him. Corvan tried to push back, but Jorad didn’t budge.
“It’s not real,” Jorad said dryly. Corvan looked closer. It was only a mannequin, a haphazard face painted onto a cloth bag stuffed with dried vines that stuck out the top like a tuft of wiry hair. Its mouth twisted to one side in a sloppy grin, and it seemed to laugh at Corvan as he passed by.
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“He was put there to keep the rantels away from our crops,” Jorad said.
“Are rantels the same as birds?” Corvan asked.
“I do not know this word, birds,” Jorad said. “Rantels were fierce creatures with boney arms covered in skin that could soar in the air. They would destroy our crops, so we had marksmen trained to shoot them out of the air. That is how the ones we now call the broken first discovered they could use arrows to cut down the lumiens within range. All that’s left is that last patch high in the center.”
“How big do rantels get?” Corvan asked.
“I have heard tales from beyond Kadir that in days gone by, they could be larger than a man, but I have only seen one as big as my forearm when I was much younger. All the rantels died out along with the crops.”
“Do rantels have long forked tails and beady black eyes?”
“Who told you that?” Jorad asked.
“The rebel leader had one on his head.”
“Right.” Jorad said. “I saw that. It was a fake or a stuffed dead one from long ago. He uses it to back up the claims that his is the last Rantellic. It seems to impress his dimwitted followers, the ones that wear the braids with the fork at the end. Its supposed to show their devotion to him and their secret ways.”
“Like a religion?” Corvan asked over his shoulder.
Jorad sighed. “I told you all this before. The legend is that the Rantellics were a race of men who could communicate with the rantels. Their creatures would spy on our lands and then reporting what they saw by somehow connecting to their Rantellic masters. Personally, I think it was superstitious nonsense. It doesn’t matter now that the rantels are all dead.”
He sounded so sure that as they walked on, Corvan doubted what he had seen back at the crypts. Maybe the rebel leader’s headpiece had just fallen off when the Roman candle hit his eye. There was a lot of smoke, and he might have just imagined the batlike creature hissing at him and flying away. He decided he would not risk Jorad’s scorn by talking any more about what he saw.
After a few more corners and stairways, they left the terraces behind, carrying Kate over rocky ground that sloped up toward a series of shadowed entrances cut into the cavern wall.
“Those are the tunnels to the settlements,” Jorad said. “The rantels used to roost in those caves, so the ground is fertile with their guano. The palace has moved some of our remaining lumiens to where the ceiling is low enough to grow food. Now our people work in the rantel caverns, tending the plants under armed guard.”
“Why do the workers need guards?”
“To make sure the lumiens do not go missing,” Jorad said bitterly. “And the penalty for eating palace food without permission is death.”
The journey to the tunnel entrances took much longer than Corvan expected. Distances were deceiving, with no landmarks by which to judge the size of things. Small rocks in the distance turned out to be huge boulders. Even with his grandfather’s slippers, his feet were killing him by the time they arrived at the entrances into the former rantel caves.
“We will take the one farthest to the right,” Jorad said. “But first, let’s put the girl down on that flat rock and take a rest. It’s still a long walk out to the Molakar settlement.”
It was a great relief to set the litter down and shake the cramps out of his hands. Corvan immediately crouched at Kate’s side. Her face seemed to have a bit more color, as if the light from the medallion clutched under her hands was infusing her skin from her neck up. Touching her cheek, he was relieved to find it warmer this time.
A muscle cramp grabbed at Corvan’s calf, and he got to his feet and walked it out. Without the weight of the litter, his step was so light he thought he might jump right over the short wall alongside the path. As he drew close, he realized it would not be a good idea, for on the other side of the wall was a cliff that dropped off to the end of the fields far below. Placed his hands on the wall he leaned out for a better look.
At the base of the precipice, a stream rushed out to join the main river just above the falls. Through the mist, he could make out a horseshoe shape of rushing water descending into a dark hole.
Turning around, he found Jorad staring down the path.
“Is something wrong?” Corvan asked.
“Something is moving down by the stuffed man.” He pointed down the slope. “There, behind the wall on that same tier, just below the fake archer.”
Corvan squinted at the place Jorad pointed out. The top of a red hood bobbed above the wall toward the stairs where they’d passed the scarecrow.
“We need to get inside the tunnel right away.” Jorad ran back and bent down to Kate’s litter. “If they are following us, at least they won’t know which entry we took or which settlement we are heading to.”
Corvan’s skin prickled as he stepped into place and stooped to grab the poles. Jorad’s plan wouldn’t work if the red hood belonged to someone who did not need to see them to follow. Wasn’t it Jorad who said the seeker could follow the heat of their bodies?
Rushing towards the farthest cave, they hurried through the entrance, then ran up a steep incline. The air inside was moist and smelled like a barn long overdue for a cleaning. Luminescent purple moss hung in thick swatches from the roof, providing enough light for them to avoid tripping on the uneven floor.
The tunnel leveled out then ran straight ahead for what seemed like miles. Jorad urged him on, but Corvan could tell by the tugs on the poles that the priest was continually looking over his shoulder.
Jorad finally fell back into a steady, plodding pace, and after walking in silence around many corners, Jorad spoke up.
“I am grateful for your offer to help me rescue Tyreth. I don’t think I can do it alone.” They turned another corner. “As soon as we get your Kate to the healer, we must make haste to go back to Kadir. At first, I didn’t see it clearly, but now I am certain that Tyreth’s fate intertwines with the future of the Cor. Her blood has permeated those seeds from the mother plant.” Jorad’s pace faltered. “I think that if she dies, the little red seeds also die.” He paused. “We all die.”
A heavy weight pressed down on Corvan. The fate of the Cor was resting on his shoulders, but what did he have to offer? He had meant what he said about helping Jorad, but now he was so tired he could hardly think.
The tunnel descended, spiraling through a series of tight corners before emerging into a low cavern. There were no lumiens, just a few fire sticks around the perimeter and a bright spot far off to the right.
Jorad slowed his pace. “All the soldiers will be out by the lumiens guarding the workers. Take that path to your left, past all the other worker’s dwellings. Let’s hope Jokten still lives in the same place.”
They passed by entrances that had been carved into the side wall of the cavern. Between the dark doorways, narrow steps climbed up to dwellings on higher levels. The topmost stairs were cut at impossible angles where the wall jutted outward to join the ceiling.
Suddenly the poles of the litter were almost yanked from Corvan’s hands, sending him sprawling backwards onto the ground next to Kate. Corvan jumped to his feet and glared at Jorad. “Why did you do that?”
The priest placed his end of the litter on the ground, turned Corvan around, and pointed down.
At his feet, a wide, deep pit revealed water flowing past jagged rocks far below.
“Sorry, Jorad. I was too busy looking about.” Muscles trembling with exhaustion, he leaned in for a closer look. He had read about formations like these. An underground river would weaken the ceiling of its channel until it collapsed. In this case, the roof had fallen in to form a low, rocky island surrounded by fast-flowing water.
“In my world, these are called cenotes,” he told Jorad. “Ancient people thought they were doors to the world of the gods, and they’d sacrifice young women by throwing them in.”
Jorad nodded. “Then our worlds have something in common, for that is what is done at the Wasting, when the water threatens to rise and flood the city. Here we call the pits, karst. The soldiers use this one to execute workers who try to escape or who eat food without permission. They use that to lower them in.” He pointed across the pit to a platform where a crude metal cage hung from a crane. “They force the rest of the people to gather around and watch them die.”
“They drown them?”
“No, no. Look, there, by the largest rock.”
At first Corvan saw only a dark shadow on the ripples of the water, but as he watched, it turned toward him and took shape.
Red eyes pierced the darkness and stared up at him.
It was the monster from his nightmares.
https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/90135/the-cor-series
