As the heavy door swung shut behind them, he glanced back, watching the block of daylight between door and frame become narrower until finally it disappeared. Now all they had to combat the darkness were their flickering torches, which threw strange, wavering shadows up and down the walls. Their journey had only just begun, and already the tunnel felt hot and stuffy, the air pungent with the stink of raw meat and the Tao Tei’s musky flesh.
William wondered what the next few hours would bring, whether this would be his last day on earth. He was all too aware he could be with Pero now, riding free across the desert plains, his saddlebags stuffed with black powder. But he had no regrets. He knew if he was given his time over again, he would still choose to be here—fighting alongside Lin Mae and the Nameless Order. Fighting for a cause that, for the first and only time in his life, actually mattered.
The door to the now empty Main Hall crashed open and the Tao Tei flooded in, their black talons scoring long grooves across the highly polished wooden floor. They crashed into pillars, knocked over pedestals, smashed vases and priceless statues, and tore down hanging silks with their claws and teeth.
Some of them swarmed up the steps to the Imperial throne, demolishing the delicate, ornamental balustrades at the sides. They sniffed at the throne and then around it, and then at the bottom of the steps. Their tiny eyes glinted; their maws opened, lips curling back from their rows of teeth, and they let loose a series of shrieks.
They had picked up a scent.
The defensive guard around the courtyard door numbered sixteen soldiers. Thirteen were from what remained of the Imperial Guard, and the other three were from what remained of the Nameless Order. Of the three Nameless Order soldiers, two were Eagle Corps warriors, standing at the front of the group with their bows armed and ready, and the other, standing just behind them with an axe in one hand and a mallet in the other, was from the Bear Corps.
None of the men spoke to one another. None of them shifted from their positions. They stood stoic and resolute, waiting for the enemy.
Waiting to fight and die.
The tunnel was hot and dark and seemingly endless.
Torches flickered. Muscles strained. Sweat poured. Wheels turned.
Silently, determinedly, they went on.
The silence in the courtyard was suddenly shattered by a sound that was distant, though no less terrifying for it. It was a shrill and hideous screech. Wordless, and yet full of rage and hate and awful, endless hunger.
The men in the courtyard stirred. The Imperial soldiers clutched the hilts of their swords with trembling hands; the Bear Corps warrior took a firmer grip on his axe and mallet; the Eagle Corps warriors drew back the strings of their bows, their focus absolute, their arms rock steady.
Another cry rent the air, closer this time, and was then quickly followed by another, and another. And now the men in the courtyard heard the thump of myriad feet, like the far-off rumble of approaching thunder.
The enemy were on their way.
There was light up ahead, Lin Mae was sure of it. It was difficult to tell with the flickering firelight of the Imperial Officer’s torch limning the rocky walls, but all the same she was certain she could see the faint glimmer of a different light beyond that—one that was softer, purer, more natural.
Was this new light coming from above? Yes, she was sure it was. She felt a pang of alarm as she wondered what could be causing it. Was it coming from a breach in the ceiling that had been created by the Tao Tei? Could their enemy have become tactically aware enough to anticipate their plan and intercept them?
But no. As they neared the light, she saw it was coming from a row of four open iron grates, like barred windows, set into the low ceiling of the next section of tunnel. The corridor broadened out a little here, and looked more man-made. The Imperial Officer turned and held up a hand, instructing them all to halt. When the wheels of the carts had creaked to a stop, he indicated a longer, darker section of tunnel that lay beyond the grated section directly ahead.
“That’s where we’re heading for,” he said. “Fifty more paces will bring us to the cellar of the East Pagoda.”
He turned away, holding up his torch, and again they began to move forward, the wheels of the two carts rumbling back to life. Lin Mae glanced over her shoulder at William, who was helping the now weary Bear Corps warriors push the Tao Tei cart the last fifty paces. She saw him glance up at the first of the grilles set into the ceiling—and then she saw him freeze. She glanced up too, following his gaze. Close to the grilles—no more than a few feet away—she saw movement.
At first the light filtering from above was too bright for her to make out what was causing it. But then her vision adjusted and she drew in a sharp breath. So close she could have reached up and touched it had the grating not been there, she saw a mass of shifting green flesh, interspersed with brief flashes of black taloned claws and glistening white teeth.
The area directly above their heads was teeming with Tao Tei!
Eyes widening, she looked at William. Casting a warning glance at the Imperial Officer at the head of the group with Wang at his side, he leaned forward and whispered, “Eyes forward! Keep moving! Tell them!”
But no sooner were the words out of his mouth than the Imperial Officer glanced up at the grating above his head—and froze in terror. He came to an abrupt halt, causing the rest of the procession to stop again too.
There was snuffling and grunting now from above, a new eagerness and awareness among the Tao Tei. Whether the creatures had seen their flickering torchlight, or heard their rumbling carts, or perhaps simply caught their scent Lin Mae had no idea, but all at once the light from above grew dimmer as the creatures moved across to press eyes and snouts against the grates. Next moment scrabbling talons appeared through the gaps between the bars and drool thick as candle wax began to drip down on them.
Wang gave the Imperial Officer a shove in the back and hissed sharply, “Press on! We’re almost there!”
The Imperial Officer looked at him, his face stark with terror, and then, with an effort, managed to recover himself. He gave a sharp nod and lurched forward, his movements jerky and panicked, the torchlight veering this way and that.
As they hurried through the long tunnel as fast as they could, the activity above them grew yet more frenzied. The shafts of daylight leaking in from overhead became fewer, and then were blotted out completely, as the Tao Tei crammed forward, turning the gaps between the bars into a slavering, hissing mass of squirming green flesh. More talons poked through, scrabbling at them, causing them to duck their heads. Lin Mae felt alarm lurch inside her as the grilles began to creak and bend under the intense pressure exerted by the weight of dozens of Tao Tei bodies. She felt an urge to run, but the carts were too heavy to push at anything more than walking pace.
Suddenly, in front of Lin Mae, there was a splintering crack and one of the grilles gave way. Instantly a Tao Tei arm burst through into the tunnel, long talons sinking into the shoulder of one of the Bear Corps warriors pushing the meat cart and plucking him up through the gap in the ceiling as easily as a child might pluck a crab from a rock pool. The soldier gave a short scream of agony and then he was gone, his shield, which was too big to fit through the gap, clattering to the floor, followed almost immediately by a pattering rain of blood.