Flying some distance away from Traax, Duvessa could see his dark form highlighted by the setting sun.
Duvessa and Traax each led a sizable phalanx of warriors. The wizard's litter followed a short distance behind, borne through the air by twelve stout warriors. Ox flew in the lead, guiding them toward their destination.
Though Duvessa's female fighters had not yet passed their rites of ascension, Faegan had asked for volunteers from her group to participate in this urgent mission. He had told them that now, in actual combat, they would earn their red feathers. Duvessa was proud of her women: There had been no shortage of volunteers.
Ox raised one hand, and the entire war party slowed to hover in the air. When Faegan's litter caught up, Ox pointed toward the southwest. "Valrenkium be just beyond border to Hartwick Wood," he said.
Faegan nodded. "Well done," he said. He looked at Traax and Duvessa.
"Remember your orders," he said sternly. "I want everyone to land swiftly, ready to fight. This Reznik must surely have assumed that we would return in strength, and he has had ample time to make plans of his own. There is no telling what awaits us down there." He paused for a moment. "May the Afterlife look over us all."
Faegan cast his gaze into the distance and used the craft to make out the sheer sandstone bluffs. Closing his eyes, he hoped against hope that he was doing the right thing. Then he nodded, and the twin phalanxes regrouped and began to pick up speed.
As they approached Valrenkium, they saw no archers atop the bluffs. The dark entrance to the tunnels Uther had described lay open, but Faegan knew better than to enter.
Soaring over the bluffs, he ordered the phalanxes to descend into the heart of Valrenkium. Dreggans drawn, four thousand anxious warriors landed quietly in the village square. Faegan's litter came to rest near Duvessa, Traax, and Ox. As the wizard levitated his chair out and onto the ground, the Minions fanned out.
Valrenkium seemed deserted. The wind whistled hauntingly through the streets, whirling up little maelstroms of debris. Many of the buildings' doors banged open and closed in the wind, adding to the nerve-racking tension.
Down the single road that led out of town, the gibbets were empty. Blood still dripped slowly from many of them as they creaked to and fro. Scowling, Faegan looked over at Duvessa and Traax.
"Start kicking in doors," he ordered sternly. "Before we leave, we must be sure that no one was left behind. If you find any evidence of the craft-no matter how small-send for me at once."
Feet and fists flying, the Minions began barging through doors and windows. As time went by, the groups returned one by one to say that the buildings were all deserted, barren of people, even of food and drink. All of the tools of the Valrenkians' craft-the herbs, roots and precious oils-were also missing. After more than an hour of searching, Traax, Duvessa, and Ox walked back over to the litter.
"We're too late," Traax said angrily, sheathing his dreggan.
"What are your orders?" Duvessa asked the wizard.
Looking around, Faegan took a moment to think. He was angry with himself. Perhaps the only opportunity he would ever have to crush the Corporeals had slipped right through his fingers. He hated to admit it, but it was unlikely that such a chance would ever come again.
Trying to decide what to do, he looked to the sky. Darkness was falling quickly.
"There's nothing more we can do here," he concluded. "Make ready to leave for Tammerland. I want to have as many warriors guarding the palace as we-"
The first explosion was loud and grating-like stone grinding against stone. Then came another, and another. Dust-colored smoke filled the night air. The crashes came so quickly that they became an earsplitting wall of continuous noise. Faegan looked up and his mouth fell open.
From the tops of the bluffs surrounding the village, huge fingers of living stone shot into the air. Like tentacles, they grew out from one side of the bluffs, bridged the space above the village, narrowly missing the roofs of the buildings, and stopped at the other side, where they fused with the living rock of the far bluffs. They were numerous and spaced less than a foot apart.
When the noise finally stopped, the warriors and the wizard stared up through the smoke. From bluff to bluff, a latticelike arrangement of stone columns crisscrossed the entire area above them. Faegan was stunned. The dense smoke and the amazing speed with which the things had formed had given him no real opportunity to act. He was forced to admit that Reznik had easily tempted them all into a trap.
Suddenly, there was a scratching, grinding noise. Although softer, it was no less nerve-racking.
The sides of the bluffs began to move, sections of the walls morphing into cones. A blazing torch appeared within each one; the many flames easily illuminated the entire square. While the captives stood there in wonder, silence reclaimed the village.
"How is this possible?" Traax asked. "I thought partial adepts couldn't summon such immense power."
"Impressive," Faegan answered quietly as he continued to examine the structure that imprisoned them. "Partial adepts are the undisputed masters of the organic realm of the craft," he added. "Stone and fire are certainly a part of that world. Partial adepts may possess only partial blood signatures, but that does not necessarily mean the quality of their blood cannot be high. Now the question before us is one of escape."
Traax snapped open his wings and flew the short distance up to the stone grid. He slid his dreggan from its scabbard and hacked his blade several times against one of the newly formed bars. The sword had no effect. Faegan motioned to Traax to move aside.
The azure bolts that streamed from the wizard's hands were perhaps the brightest the warriors had ever seen. While Faegan strained to hold the bolts securely against one of the stone bars, dense smoke rose. Finally tiring, he lowered his hands. When the smoke cleared they could see that aside from black singe marks, the stone hadn't been affected at all.
"There must be another way out of here," Traax protested. "No cage in the world can hold this many Minion warriors against their will."
Faegan pursed his lips. "I fear this one can," he replied. Looking back toward the tunnel exit, he shook his head. "Uther told us that the only other way out of here was the tunnel," he added. "He said that it is full of danger. 'One wrong move and you're dead,' was how he described it."
"Still, there seems no other choice," Duvessa countered. "The food and water are all gone. Forced to stay here long enough, we'll all starve to death."
"I'm aware of that," Faegan said ruefully. "I'm also beginning to acquire a better sense of this Reznik fellow. I don't believe he meant for us to simply starve to death. No, I fear that the worst of our troubles are yet to come."
No sooner had the wizard finished his sentence than the ground began to tremble. Stunned and confused, the warriors anxiously looked around and many drew their swords. Soon the ground shook so violently that they all found it difficult to remain standing. Some of them took to the air, to hovering just above the quaking earth. The warriors responsible for Faegan's litter quickly bore it aloft.
Then, with great heaving motions, the earth began to open. Dust flew high as the square-shaped sections of ground slowly levered themselves upward like trapdoors. The openings revealed darkness below. All went quiet again, but Faegan knew the silence was not to last.
When the rumbling began, Faegan tried to shout to Traax, but the noise drowned out his voice. More of the warriors left the ground, but more than half of them were still earthbound when the first of the beasts came charging up out of their lairs. Furious, the screaming, grunting monsters ripped into the warriors.
Faegan raised his arms and shot bolts squarely into the back of the first creature, tearing it to bits.
Urgently looking around, he gasped as dozens more of the earthen doors released hundreds of the terrifying beasts.
Each creature was about the size of a full-grown deer. They ran on all fours, easily leaping a dozen feet or more in a single bound. Their heads were like those of wild boars, with long snouts, slanted red eyes, and almond-shaped ears. Their bodies were stout and their short legs powerful, ending in sharp, cloven hooves. Their hides were covered with long, sharp spines. Curved tusks bracketed their mouths.
Duvessa called out orders to her warriors, but she could not make herself heard above the sounds of the attack. And then one of the creatures charged at her and she had to focus on defending herself.
Forcing herself to wait until the last moment, she swung the heavy sword with all her strength. The tip of the dreggan slashed across the monster's throat, releasing a torrent of blood. When the screaming beast went down onto its front knees, she raised the dreggan with both hands and plunged the blade into the top of its skull. Pulling the bloody sword out, she quickly looked around and her gorge rose.
The monsters weren't simply killing the Minions. They were devouring them. All around her fallen warriors screamed as the dark beasts tore into their flesh, the powerful jaws driving those long teeth through the toughest Minion body armor as if it weren't there.
Nearby, one of the monsters was attempting to take a bite out of one of Duvessa's warriors. Duvessa rushed over and slashed her sword across the back of the thing's neck, then quickly backed away. Turning its head toward her, the beast cried out. But despite its bleeding wound, it eagerly went back to devouring its victim. Duvessa struck it once, twice, a third time, and finally severed its head.
Duvessa looked down into the eyes of the fallen warrior. The woman's body was torn wide, and she was moaning in pain and fear. When she saw her leader standing over her, she calmed a bit. With a trembling hand she reached out, grasped Duvessa's blade, and used her last bit of strength to place the dreggan's tip against her throat. Her gaze was beseeching.
Understanding, Duvessa nodded. Knowing it would be the quickest, surest way, she felt for the hidden button in her sword hilt and pushed it. With a clang the dreggan's blade launched its extra foot, ending the warrior's life.
It was all Duvessa could do to force down the vomit. Trying to collect herself, she turned back to the battle. Soon more of the awful things fell to her swinging sword.
From his litter in the air, Faegan did his best to destroy the beasts as they exited the dark holes in the earth. Given their great numbers, even he couldn't kill them all. He had lost sight of Traax and Ox, but he knew that the officers were doing all that they could. Those warriors who had managed to lift into the air before the beasts struck were having a better time of it. But the majority of the warriors had remained on the ground. Many of them were dead, the beasts hungrily tearing away chunks of their flesh.
Having landed, Traax suddenly found himself facing three of the snarling things at once. His back up against a building, he had nowhere to go. He knew that if he tried to concentrate all of his efforts on killing one of them, the other two would eventually find an opening and rush in.
He swung his dreggan in slashing arcs, trying as best he could to keep the things at bay. His hands covered with blood and his shoulders nearly ready to give out, he knew that if someone didn't come to his aid, the monsters would soon rip into him.
Suddenly a small group of warriors led by Ox descended behind the beasts. They raised their dreggans high and began to hack at the monsters. After what seemed like an eternity, the creatures' mangled bodies lay dead between them.
Traax nodded at Ox and his troops in thanks. His arms covered with blood, Ox grinned.
The fighting had by now all but ended. Exhausted warriors walked among the dying creatures, finishing them off with their quick, hard sword strokes. Smoke from Faegan's bolts lazily wafted into the air. The smell of fresh blood was everywhere. Looking up, Traax could see the wizard was safe in his litter.
Suddenly he thought of Duvessa. Sprinting through the square, he frantically called out her name.
He found her leaning against the side of a building. She was bloody and dazed, but she seemed unharmed. He ran to her and took her into his arms. In a rare public display of Minion affection, Traax unfolded his dark wings and he gently wrapped them around her, silently telling her that it would be all right.
Saying nothing, she laid her head upon his chest. As he brushed some of her hair from her face he whispered that she had earned her red feather several times over today, here in the bloody square that had taken so many of their comrades' lives.
Faegan's litter descended and he examined the scene. The indestructible stone bars were still firmly in place overhead. Everywhere he looked, dead warriors, beasts, and the body parts of both lay scattered across the killing field. So much blood had been spilled that it was hard to find a patch of ground that wasn't a muddy red. He lowered his head, overwhelmed by guilt.
When he looked up he saw Ox, Traax, and Duvessa slowly approaching. Taking a deep breath, he did his best to collect his thoughts.
"What were those things?" Traax asked. He lowered the tip of his dreggan to the bloody ground and leaned his weight upon its hilt.
"They were either some abomination that Reznik conjured to guard this place or the work of the Coven, left over from long ago," the wizard said. "We may never know which."
"What are your orders?" Duvessa asked.
Faegan thought for a moment.
"Duvessa, I want you to start organizing the treatment of the wounded," he ordered. "You have permission to follow Minion custom and grant a quick, merciful death to those you deem beyond help. Take a count of how many casualties we have sustained. Ox and Traax, loot the buildings of anything you can find, the heavier the better. Pile it all atop those earthen doorways. If more of those monsters wait below, I want to do everything I can to keep them from rising up. I will use the craft to help hold the doorways closed, but there are far too many of them for me to do the job without help. Go now. We have no time to lose."
Each of the Minions offered a tired salute and walked away to carry out the orders. Levitating his chair from the litter, Faegan settled it upon the blood-soaked ground.
He looked up at the stone bars. His powers had already proven useless against the latticework. Even if more warriors from the palace flew to their aid, he doubted it would help. If his gifts couldn't break the bars, no number of Minion warriors would be able to do so.
His mind turned to the members of the Conclave no longer in Eutracia. Trapped as he was so far away from Tammerland, the originating point of his portal would be very different. The formulas for its successful operation would need to be altered, but he had none of the necessary calculating tools with him. He could neither help the other Conclave members nor escape this place with his warriors. How foolish he had been to not anticipate such a crisis! He should have brought the tools with him. Angrily, he pounded the arms of his chair.
Tyranny and her group could, of course, sail home, but it would take far longer. He also knew about the Minion vessels anchored off the shore of Parthalon. That meant that Wigg, Tristan, and Celeste could do the same as Tyranny. But for them to sail home would take longer still, and the Sea of Whispers was a dangerous place.
Making matters worse, he had no clue about what other horrors Reznik might have arranged for them.
Seething at his own stupidity, he hardened his jaw.
When he had interrogated Uther, he had neglected to demand the safe route through the tunnel maze. His plan had been to simply fly into Valrenkium, and then out again. His trust in the abilities of the warriors, his own gifts in the craft, and his desire to see these wrongs ended quickly had led them here, to become trapped like rats. He would not underestimate Reznik again.
Looking into the distance, he could just make out the dark, square-cut exit in the bluffs. It was an all too tempting trap. Wherever Reznik had gone, he surely hoped that Faegan would be desperate enough to enter, followed by what was left of his ravaged Minions. Reznik's trap was perfect.
Turning away from the tunnels, the crippled wizard covered his face with his hands.