Curse Breaker: Sundered Read online

  Rocks grated as they slipped and slid. Sarn must still be trying to break through, but he couldn’t while his magic was bound by the Question. I didn’t realize how young he is. I needed to get inside those menhirs and their cordon, and Sarn was the only way in. Then he offered to help me, and I couldn’t say no. He and his son were so earnest. J.C. sighed.

  Of course, Sarn’s habit of hiding under deep hoods had helped scale his age up. So had his brilliant green eyes. Their constant glow had highlighted the scar bracketing his left eye and left much of his face in shadow, adding to the effect.

  Oh well, what was done was done, and they were clear of it now. Those helpful rocks blocked their way. J.C. patted them in thanksgiving and turned, grateful for their presence.

  Now to deal with the Adversary and his latest scheme. And on the way, meet a mortal who’ll volunteer to help me because the Covenant granted mankind self-determination. So those were the rules of engagement, rules He’d died to uphold.

  You can tempt mortals all you like my Adversary, but I died to ensure you could never make them do your will. They must choose who they follow. And that thought made J.C. smile because the Adversary still didn’t understand the full measure of what His most precious blood had purchased for mankind. Neither did most mortals, but one day they would.

  So J.C. lifted his cross and headed toward the echoes coming from somewhere ahead. He stumbled as those voices grew to a deafening roar. So many cried out for help—too many to count as their faces flashed before his eyes. He tried to locate them, but He couldn't get a fix on their location or what was happening. Their pain slammed into Him, and he teetered as His cross swelled from the weight of their terror. It threatened to crush him.

  Overwhelmed by their pain, J.C. dropped to his knees and choked on their tears, but He could do nothing to stop what was happening. That was the price of their free will. He could just be a comforting presence reaching out of the darkness to embrace the hurt and the dying, and a voice calling the just to stop the slaughter.

  Dimly, He was aware of footsteps and the cold ground under his hands and knees as he crawled. Blood ran down his face as thorns pricked his forehead. Nails punched through his hands and feet, but He kept going because He must.

  Light flared around Him then voices echoed from somewhere close by or maybe He was slipping away to be with His people in their time of need. Something flew past his head then J.C. heard a curious voice on a different frequency then humans used. There were other sentient races sharing this land, but they usually hid when He was about.

  “You’re hurt. I’ll fetch friend, Nulthir. He’ll fix you,” said the creature as it flapped away.

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t wait for your friend. They’re calling from a pit that became their tomb. I must roll away the stone and freed them, so they can fly to My Father in heaven.”

  Blood welled from the holes in his palms and dripped on the ground as J.C. pushed to a stand. He held fast to the wall and his bloody fingers found every crack and crevice that could serve as a handhold. Under his sandals, the mountain groaned. It had sensed his presence and was now waking up to the dangers stalking its uncounted miles of tunnels.

  “Sleep, friend, your turn has not yet come. I pray it never does.”

  At his words, the mountain stilled, and it drifted back into dreams of the days of old, when mages summoned mountains to fight for them.

  With a heavy heart, J.C. put his back to the rubble pile and the allies Thing One had gone to fetch. It was too dangerous for them. Tentacles snaked across the ground, pawing over everything in their path. While others probed the middle distance. Each tentacle moved with a purpose independent of its mates. How far did that independence extend? Was each tentacle driven by a separate mind, or were there multiple monsters controlling groups of them?

  What are you searching for? Can you sense Me? In case they could, J.C. passed them with care and hoped Sarn and his son found somewhere safe to hold up until the Adversary was contained. Defeating that beast must be His priority.

  As He shuffled along, a black mist lapped at his sandal-shod feet, seeking elemental magic to eat. Since his magic was divine rather than tied to any one world, it should have done nothing more than hide the ground and the tentacles feeling around for prey. Instead, that rising fog sucked at his feet and slowed his steps.

  My power comes from belief. You can’t take my power. But that fog was taking something he needed just as much—the energy to move. He wasn’t here as a spirit but in a body. Unfortunately, bodies needed rest and sustenance. Two things J.C. had deprived it of because He’d been too busy chasing after the Adversary. That deprivation was now taking its toll and making him vulnerable to the colloidal black thing climbing up his quivering legs.

  With his body so depleted, it would take too long to navigate the tunnels between himself and the Adversary. But all other ways are closed to me. So He lifted his cross and tottered onward toward the trapped souls calling His name. I will ransom you, my people. Don’t lose heart. For that is how the Adversary sneaks in.

  Call in the Guards

  “I think that worked a little too well,” Iraine said wryly as she flattened herself against the wall beside Nulthir to keep from getting trampled.

  She would have melted into the shadows thanks to her dark complexion, if a collection of religious symbols weren’t glowing on her skin. Those marks of faith had prevented her from turning into a mindless drone, so they were a boon even though they made her conspicuous in the dark.

  All the guards with Nulthir glowed with symbols, some due to their own faith and some because he’d marked them with runes against mental coercion, like the one he bore. But his rune was under his clothes because his mother had inscribed it on his base chakra at birth with indelible ink. Nulthir fiddled with the curvy pendant hanging over his heart. It was the old rune for dawn, and its light was fast-fading because he had no magic to fuel it with.

  “You think?” Under the sweat and stinking grime, Nulthir caught a familiar scent and sneezed. “Are you carrying pepper?”

  “So what if I am?” Iraine winked, and Nulthir shook his head.

  Only Iraine would carry spices around with her. Though in the past, those spices had come in handy, especially the salt and capsaicin.

  “At least we freed them,” she said.

  “Are you sure it was us?” Huwain shouted over the screaming denizens running all out for their lives. “Holy water is some powerful stuff, but only in the hands of a true religious, and I’m just a guard.”

  He ducked his head though whether that was out of discomfort over discussing his religious beliefs in the middle of a supernatural crisis or to better protect his bare head, Nulthir couldn’t tell in the uncertain light. All he had was a dim glow of the symbols that shone on the breasts or foreheads of his people and others caught up in the hysterical flow of the mob. But his subordinate had brought up an important point.

  “You think someone else freed them.” Not a question, just a statement touching on a rather frightening fact. “Who has that power?”

  Do I even want to know? Yes, he needed to know but just what was he supposed to do with the answer? Congratulate the man? Why does everything in this place swing toward the magical side of the spectrum? Why can’t only mundane problems fall into my lap? Nulthir rubbed his shoulder. It still smarted from when that bearish man had slammed into him.

  “Begging your pardon sir, but there’s only one man who could do that—our Lord and Savior.”

  “What are you saying?” Lurston asked. He sounded less groggy though he kept rubbing at the rune Nulthir had traced on him. “Are you saying He’s here?”

  Nulthir caught Lurston by his wrist. “Stop it. That rune cut you loose from whatever was controlling you. Until we know more about what’s going on, leave it in place. That’s an order corporal.”

  “Yes, sir,” Lurston said in resignation.

  “Look, I just call ‘em like I see ‘em, and what we saw i
s only possible for one man.” Huwain shrugged and slunk deeper into cover, such as it was.

  “What if he’s right?” Iraine asked right before she darted into the stampede.

  “Iraine? What the hell are you doing?”

  “Iraine!” Agalthar echoed his shout, but the lithe woman didn’t acknowledge either of them as she vanished into the crowd.

  “Did that voice get her?”

  “I don’t hear it. Do you?” Nulthir scanned the crowd for Iraine’s dark head, but she was gone.

  He hurtled over the boulder he’d been sheltering behind and nearly crashed into his best friend as Iraine appeared with three men in tow. Nulthir smiled as a fourth guard linked up with them then a fifth. His squad was now twelve members strong, but the five Guards trailing Iraine weren't sporting any glowing sigils, religious or otherwise.

  What had happened to that dark voice and the compulsion it had cast? Perhaps we silenced it.

  Draya saluted smartly as she hopped onto the boulder. “Sir.”

  “I thought you were on leave, corporal.”

  “I was, but now seemed like a good time to return to active duty. So when Sven’s squad passed my door, I joined up. I can always go back on leave after the current crisis is over.”

  “What my sister-in-arms means is that she was bored to tears at home with the kids and couldn’t wait to escape them.” Iraine slung an arm around the other woman’s shoulders.

  Draya just smiled. Some people joined the Guards because the Guards were always hiring, and some joined because they craved adventure. Regular paychecks and the opportunity to save people were additional bonuses. Then there was the last group—women, and men like him who’d joined to uphold law and order.

  “Sven’s down here too?” Nulthir asked. Other than Draya and Yazi, the rest were all part of his squad, which was still two Guards short of its original compliment. With luck, they were making their way to the nearest Guard post to report in.

  Gare nodded and pointed to his mate, a lumbering giant named Yazi who loved to shoot things. The former Ranger had transferred to the Guards after an incident in the Enchanted Forest. An incident he'd refused to discuss despite the rampant curiosity of his fellow Guards.

  “Yazi is in his squad. We found each other in the crush,” Gare explained.

  “Yes, but we lost others. They just tranced out and walked away from their posts. I’ve never seen such a thing before. It was beyond eerie.” Yazi shuddered, and Gare patted his arm.

  “How did you end up here? Where was Sven when you last saw him?” Agalthar asked as he climbed over a collapsed column to join them.

  “I don’t know,” Draya said. “One minute I’m following Yazi and listening to a particularly bad joke. And the next, a wall of screaming people are coming toward me. I had no choice but to run.”

  “So, you ran into my back?” Yazi shot her an aggrieved look.

  “How do you know that was me? It’s awfully dark down here. It could have been anyone.”

  “So, neither of you know where the rest of Sven’s squad is?”

  “No.”

  “Where were you right before you were here?”

  “We were descending a staircase into the Lower Quarters, right?” Yazi glanced at Draya, who nodded.

  “That’s how I remember it though I’d love to know what happened in between then and now.”

  “No, you don’t. Trust me on that,” Lurston said, and Iraine mimed throwing a rock at him.

  Before Nulthir could digest everything he'd just heard and formulate a plan, he felt a familiar presence touch his mind. Nulthir raised his fist, and Thing One dropped onto it. Claws bit into the leather of his padded gauntlet as his little friend settled.

  “The Shining One needs help, Friend Nulthir,” Thing One broadcasted, making everyone jump.

  His psychic pet/flatmate was a mishmash of mammals with a bit of owl thrown in the mix to give the mostly harmless creature wings, and the ability to turn his head one-hundred-and-eighty degrees, so his large, dark-adjusted eyes could plead with Nulthir and his squad simultaneously.

  “What’s a ‘Shining One?’” Iraine clambered over the rocks in time to scratch Thing One’s furry belly, and his little friend squirmed with pleasure.

  “He’s here,” Huwain said in a reverent tone. “We have to help Him, Captain.”

  “Help who?”

  “I don't see anyone besides us and that crowd.” Draya steadied herself on Yazi’s broad shoulders and shook her head before dismounting.

  “You must help Him, the Shining One.”

  “I will if I can.” Nulthir tossed Thing One back into the air, and his odd little friend took wing. Nulthir glanced at the crowd. He was torn between staying and going. I need to know what they're running from. It was his duty to guard them.

  “But the Shining One needs you,” Thing One said into his mind alone, tearing him further.

  The crowd bunched up as it pushed into the tunnel feeding into this cavern, and echoes of falling rocks almost drowned out their screams.

  “Everyone stay down while we figure out what’s going on,” Nulthir ordered.

  His squad hunkered down amid the rubble at the widest point in this cavern. Behind their position, the crowd desperately tried to exit. Everything in front of them was lost in deep shadows. Anything could be hiding in there.

  “We must do something.” Iraine touched his arm.

  “Agreed, but if we wade into that panicked crowd, we’ll get trampled, and that won't help anyone.”

  “We need a better plan than that,” Agalthar said.

  “I second that.”

  Though, Iraine didn’t like it any more than Nulthir did. She'd joined the Guards to make a difference and to get official sanction to beat up the bad guys and gals. Lately, there had been a troubling upswing in the numbers of ladies taking up deadly professions like murder. What that said about society as a whole, Nulthir didn’t dare speculate on especially not while in Iraine’s company.

  “The Shining One,” Thing One muttered as he flew in tight agitated circles within the glow of Nulthir’s pendant. The dawn rune was the brightest light down here, but its nimbus contracted a little more every moment they lingered.

  The echoes of large, heavy things crashing into each other intensified. Was whatever lay beyond this point collapsing? Could the whole place be coming down? No, surely that wasn’t possible. Those Litherians built their strongholds to last through the ages. Parts of it might fall but not the whole thing. Magic isn't the only thing holding it up.

  If they were still under the stronghold inside Mount Eredren. They might not be anymore. Nulthir had gotten so turned around over the last few hours, he had no idea where exactly they were right now. Nor was the rolled-up map in his pocket any use until he could cast a location rune, run into a landmark, or question a native, because he’d used the rest of his personal store of power to shield his most vulnerable Guards from that fell voice earlier.

  “Anyone know where we are?” Nulthir asked, not really expecting a response.

  “Under the mountain?” was the sarcastic reply from Gare of all people, but he ignored it.

  Yazi’s husband had boundless patience and good cheer usually, but Gare was worried he and his mate might not escape this alive. It was clear in his slanted black eyes, so Nulthir cut him some slack. Besides, Gare was an old friend from his prison guard days.

  “What is that?” Draya pointed, but Nulthir just shook his head as a dark blur shot through the darkness ahead and to the right.

  At least it was nowhere near the slow-moving crowd. He was grateful for that. He'd seen enough death today. But they thronged the only exit leaving Nulthir and his Guards to face this new threat.

  “Whatever it is, it’s fast.” Agalthar said.

  It wasn't Thing One because Nulthir felt the wind of his little friend’s passage from behind and to his left and heard his alarmed chirping. That dark blur crashed into something hard, and the tell-tale sou
nd of rocks striking more rocks—or the cave floor in this case—resounded. Something was trying to break through. And we might be in the way.

  Bang! The thing struck again and again. Is it hammering against a wall? Nulthir wished the entire right side of the cavern wasn’t blanketed in deep shadows, so he could at least guestimate how close that thing was to them, and what lay between it and them.

  “Anyone have a light?” Agalthar asked, “anyone other than our captain. No offense, but I don’t think we should risk our only light source.”

  Or their captain because the rune light wouldn’t work for anyone else. It was another gift keyed to Nulthir alone.

  A chorus of ‘Nos’ greeted that question.

  “We all had some, but our lumir crystals went dark and haven’t turned back on again,” Huwain said.

  “Why is that?” Yazi asked. “I think I missed that part. Like Draya, there are some puzzling holes in my memory.”

  “Mine too,” Gare said as he thumped his lover on the back.

  All three of them had been enthralled by that voice and the thing that had been flying around earlier. So it wasn’t surprising that they had a few gaps in their memories.

  Not me though, I got to experience all the weirdness firsthand thanks to this. Nulthir rubbed the rune on his belly through his uniform shirt and grimaced at the dirt stains marring the blue fabric. That rune was another gift from his overbearing mother.

  I should probably thank her for it. Without its protection, I’d have become a blank-eyed mute shuffling along to another creature's will. No thank you, once was enough. And he still had nightmares about that one time. It was the reason he'd parted ways with his family, his heritage and all but the most benign uses of magic.

  “Well, there was this black fog that rolled over us. It snuffed out all our lumir stones,” Lurston said, “but that was hours ago.”

  “Right that was then, but this is now. Why hasn’t their glow returned?”

  All eyes turned to Nulthir, including Iraine’s, which surprised him. Why do they think I know the answer? Still, he gave it his best shot.