Sir Gavin Lukos.
Another small rock struck his back. "One more word about Arman and Sir Nongo says I can beat you," Silvo said.
Achan smiled and reached for Sir Gavin. I've been captured. Silvo and Sir Nongo are black knights. They're going to sacrifice me to their false god.
You're not injured?
No more than usual. My feet are sore and they took my clothes and boots. Arman spoke to me, Sir Gavin. He scolded me, then healed me. Bested the aleh.
Then we're truly on the right path. Achan could hear the smile in Sir Gavin's tone. Look and listen for us. We're coming.
Dozens of bonfires cast an orange glow over Barth. The city consisted of thousands of domed clay huts, coating the land like endless anthills. But the pyramid was the main feature of the city. Just as Inko had told him, the pyramid rose out of the center of the city. Its height stretched beyond the range of bonfire light, into the black sky. An arched portcullis bored through the center base of the pyramid like a mouthful of teeth, bright yellow light glowing from beyond.
The cart towed Achan past the first bonfire. The flames heated the left side of Achan's body, stung the cut on his cheek. The fire burned in a pool of shimmery liquid contained in a round stone brazier sitting inches off the ground, twice as wide as the cart pulling him.
People lined the road, staring with wide, white eyes, their grey skin covered in dark mud. Their half-naked dress and dirty skin made them almost invisible against the dark backdrop. Olive-skinned men also peppered the crowd. Refugees from the plague of female mages in Jaelport, no doubt.
People chanted and jeered as Achan passed. The ground trembled with distant drumming. Ritual drums. The thrumming crescendoed as they neared the pyramid. A lonely wailing song rose above the rhythm.
A shiver snaked through Achan's stomach and coiled around his heart. This was like the daydream he'd had. One of the ways he might die. Surely Arman wouldn't let him die?
The cart stopped, and Achan stumbled into the end of it. Shouts in a language he didn't understand drifted back from the front of the procession. Clinking metal told him the portcullis was rising.
The cart dragged him over a moat of fire burning over shimmery liquid. The heat of the flames lapped at his heels and stung his cuts and blisters. Achan wished for some outer garments to shield his skin from the heat. He passed under the portcullis and into Barthos' sweltering temple.
It seemed the entire pyramid was hollow on the inside, as if it were a giant stone tent, its four sides converging at the top and covering an underground amphitheater. The stone grandstands were big enough to house a small army. Indeed, it seemed an army of barely clad spectators had already gathered for the show. More streamed down four aisles approaching the middle from the four corners of the compass. Narrow trenches of fire lined each path as if marking the way.
The main feature of the temple stood in the middle of the dirt floor below: a huge, elevated platform. Men walked around on top, several levels above the heads of the spectators on the bottom few rows of seats.
This must be where they planned to kill him.
Two massive beams rose from the floor on either side of the platform and leaned diagonally toward one another, their sharpened tips almost touching. A wooden scaffold reached almost to the tips, as if they regularly hung decorations from the spot-or perhaps took turns sliding down the giant spikes to the floor far below. Barthian fun.
What might such a contraption be used for?
Sir Nongo approached from the front of the cart and removed the chain holding Achan's shackles to the cart. He towed him toward the stairs and paused at the top. "We will be going down many steps."
"Where are we?" Achan asked.
"Barthos' temple."
Achan knew this already, but the answer brought a chill to his sweaty skin. Sir Nongo started down the stairs toward the bizarre platform. The chains on Achan's wrists tugged, pulling him along.
*
Vrell stood on a rocky cliff overlooking a distant, fiery glow that Sir Gavin claimed was the city of Barth. Achan was there somewhere, alone. But not for long. Soon Vrell would be the one left alone, as the knights were planning to go rescue Achan and leave her with the horses.
Sir Caleb held the only torch. It cast a golden glow over the trees. The knights stood with the horses, making plans to free Achan. Locto, the boy who had tricked them all with the illusion of Achan's body, sat bound on a boulder, whining incessantly. Vrell stood near a fat, slimy tree beside the path Sir Gavin had claimed led down to Barth. She studied the tree in the weak light. Its trunk had split, as if once struck by lightning. Had it been that way before Darkness had come?
After Locto had been discovered, they had all eaten Inko's dried karpos fruit and traveled back toward Mirrorstone. Their bloodvoices had returned, and Sir Gavin had discovered from Prince Oren that black knights had taken Achan. So they had changed their course to head for Barth. Then Achan had messaged. Now Sir Gavin believed Achan was to be sacrificed in Barthos's temple.
Fear for Achan overwhelmed Vrell. The knights were preparing to go into the pyramid-shaped temple and rescue him. Sir Gavin had insisted Vrell stay behind. He had even bloodvoiced her mother to ask permission to leave Vrell, and Mother had agreed! Mother was to talk with Vrell during their absence to make certain Darkness would not twist her mind.
To make matters worse, Vrell could not deny the familiar cramps in her abdomen. Her month-blood was coming.
Why was this happening now? She should be home, resting. The last time her month-blood had come she had been in Mahanaim, training with Macoun Hadar. It had been difficult to deal with, but not impossible. But now…it was unheard of for a woman to travel-to ride a horse! — at such a time.
Vrell wrung her hands as Locto's pleas echoed her own.
"Please don't leave me in Barth! Just let me go."
Sir Gavin picked up his shield. "We cannot allow a boy schooled in witchcraft to roam free."
"Then leave me in Melas. If Sir Nongo finds me…he'll kill me."
"I can do nothing about that, lad." Sir Gavin walked toward Vrell, his form a backlit shadow.
Locto took up his plea with Sir Caleb. "I beg you, change your mind!"
Sir Gavin took Vrell's elbow and turned so that half his face was lit and the other half shadowed. "Take these. It's a torchlight and firesteel."
Vrell's hand's trembled as she took the items from Sir Gavin. The idea of staying behind, alone in Darkness, perched on this cliff… "Please take me with you."
"I'm sorry, Vrell." Sir Gavin's visible eyebrow wrinkled. "Someone must stay with the horses, direct us back. We'll light a red torchlight when the time comes, so be looking for it. When you see it, light yours."
"But I want to help."
"Please don't fight me on this. We're walking into a perilous situation. We must leave Locto and bring Achan back. And we can't escape without a light to show us the way."
"But I am…" Vrell leaned closer and whispered… "frightened."
Sir Gavin set a heavy hand on her shoulder. "Then pray."
A distant squawk made Vrell jump. She inched closer to Sir Gavin. "What if gowzals come? I do not understand how they can do such…evil."
"'Tis not the birds themselves. Alone, they are merely animals. Mages call on black spirits to do their bidding. The spirits possess gowzals because the creatures are weak-minded."
"That is how the black knights work their illusions?"
"Aye. Black knights use the spirits as their tools. Little do they know it's truly the other way around." Sir Gavin slapped her back. "Look, no one knows you're here, Vrell. You've nothing to fear. Arman will protect you." He walked toward Sir Caleb, boots scraping over the rocky ground.