Night Angel Complete Trilogy Part 79

"Well, if you ever want to use your hand again, I can heal it. But it hurts and I'm slow."

Vi offered up her arm, mute.

"Just a second, I need to ward Uly's ears. Otherwise your screams will wake her."

"I won't-I won't scream," Vi swore.

As it turned out, she lied.

Logan froze. Another time, he might have tried to get everyone down to build their tower again once Gorkhy was gone, but he knew he'd never summon the strength to try it again.

"What's going on down here?" Gorkhy demanded.

What? We've been silent. How did he hear anything?

Pressing in to the wall as much as he could, Logan looked up and saw that Fin was doing the same thing, and, sitting on his shoulders, Lilly was too.

Torchlight slanted through the grate as Gorkhy came the last few feet. From where he was standing now, Lilly was only a few feet from his shoes. With the sheer edges of the Hole below the grate, though, the torchlight wouldn't fall on Lilly unless he stepped closer.

They heard Gorkhy sniffing, and the torchlight s.h.i.+fted as he leaned forward. He cursed them. "Animals. You stink worse than usual." G.o.ds, he was smelling Lilly. "Why don't you wash yourselves?"

This could go on for a while. If it was a bad day, he'd empty his bladder onto them. Logan shook with rage and weakness. There was no reason for a Gorkhy. There was no understanding it. Gorkhy gained nothing by tormenting them, but he did, and he loved it.

Go away. Just go away.

"What's going on down there?" Gorkhy said. "I heard some noise. Whatcha doin'?"

The torch s.h.i.+fted again and light dipped perilously close to Lilly. Gorkhy was walking around the grate, holding up the torch, staring as deeply into the Hole as he could. He was moving counterclockwise, away from them first.

The Holers were frozen. None of them were cursing or fighting or talking or anything. It was a dead giveaway. Only Nata.s.sa moved, away from Logan.

The light cut a path across the grate and lit up Lilly's entire head.

"GO TO h.e.l.l, GORKHY!" Nata.s.sa shouted.

The torch s.h.i.+fted away from Lilly suddenly. "Who's... ah, it's my little girl? Isn't it?"

"You see my face, Gorkhy?" Nata.s.sa asked. Clever girl. "This is the last thing you're ever going to see, because I'm going to kill you."

Gorkhy laughed. "You got a mouth on you, don't you? But then, you already showed me that before we sent you down there, didn't you?" He laughed again.

"f.u.c.k you!"

"Did that too, ha ha. You were the hottest little thing I've had in years. You been letting the rest of them boys have a piece? I was your first, though. You never forget your first. You'll never forget me, will ya?" He laughed again.

Logan marveled at Nata.s.sa's courage. She was taunting the man who had raped her, just to give them a chance.

"How's Lilly takin' it? I'm sure all them boys would rather stick you than that old wh.o.r.e. How's it going, Lilly? Compet.i.tion get fierce all the sudden? Where are you, Lilly?" He s.h.i.+fted again, searching the depths for Lilly.

"I threw that b.i.t.c.h down the hole," Nata.s.sa said.

Logan was shaking so hard he could barely stand.

"No s.h.i.+t? You are a little wildcat, aren't you? I bet you even tempt our virginal little King, don't you? You banged her yet, King? I know Lilly was a little scabby for you, but this is some fine meat, eh, King? Where are you?"

Across the Hole, Tatts said, "f.u.c.k you," into his hands. m.u.f.fled, it sounded almost like Logan. At the quick thinking, Logan felt a rush of warm feeling for the Holers. G.o.ds, they were all in this together, and they'd get out together, too.

Gorkhy laughed. "All right, well, it's been fun. You all let me know when you're hungry. I got extra steak tonight, and I'm so full I don't think I could force another bite down."

Logan had no strength left. He wanted to cry out, his body felt so weak. He couldn't even feel himself standing. He just knew that if he tried to move he'd collapse. His body was bathed in cold sweat. His vision was blurring.

Logan heard ragged breathing, breaths of relief, a moment later.

"He's gone," someone said. It was Nata.s.sa. She was standing next to Logan again, and her eyes were full of fierce tears. "Just hold on, Logan. We're close."

Something rattled loudly on the grate.

"What are you doing?" Fin hissed. "Lilly, what the h.e.l.l-"

"I didn't even touch it! I swear!" she said.

"Get down!" Logan cried.

But it was too late. There was already the sound of running steps and a moment later Gorkhy was over the grate, Lilly and Fin and Logan fully lit by his torch. With savage speed, he smashed Lilly in the face with the b.u.t.t of his spear. All of them collapsed.

Even as the bodies landed on him, crus.h.i.+ng him to the sloping stone floor, Logan saw his treasure-the key he had saved for months-fly free of Lilly's hand. It rang as it bounced off the stone floor, gleaming in the cutting light of the torch-and fell into the hole.

Every one of his hopes, every dream, was tied to that key. As it disappeared into the hole, it dragged them along with it.

A second of fragile peace pa.s.sed as every eye watched the key disappear. Then one by one, the Holers grasped the new reality-which was just like the old reality before they'd known the key existed. Fin was punching someone-it had to be Lilly because when he got to his knees, he was holding his rope. Then he punched Logan in the face.

Logan couldn't stop him. Fin was too strong; all of Logan's strength was exhausted. He fell limp.

There was an inhuman snarl and a solid form slammed into Fin, sending him flying, tumbling right to the edge of the hole.

It was Gnasher, and he crouched over Logan, baring his teeth.

On his hands and heels, Fin scrambled to get away from Gnasher. When Gnasher didn't follow, Fin stood slowly.

Logan tried to sit up, but his body refused to obey. He couldn't even move. The world swam before his eyes.

"I get the new b.i.t.c.h first," Fin said.

G.o.ds be merciful.

"You'll be the first to die, you a.s.shole!" Nata.s.sa screamed. She was trembling, holding the dagger like she had no idea what to do with it.

The Holers-the f.u.c.king animals!-surrounded her on three sides. She retreated to the edge of the hole, slas.h.i.+ng at the air with the dagger.

Above them, Gorkhy was laughing. "Sweet meat, boys, sweet meat!"

"No," Logan said. "No. Gnash, save her. Save her, please."

Gnasher didn't move. He was still snarling, making everyone stay away from Logan.

Nata.s.sa saw it. If she could only get to Logan's side of the Hole, everyone's fear of Gnasher would keep them back. But Fin saw it too. He unlimbered a coil of rope into a la.s.so.

"You can make this easy, or you can make it hard," Fin said, smacking b.l.o.o.d.y lips.

Nata.s.sa looked at him, her eyes fixed on the la.s.so in his hands as if she'd forgotten the dagger in her own. She looked across the hole and met Logan's eyes.

"I'm sorry, Logan," she said. Then she stepped into the hole.

The Holers cried out as she fell out of sight.

"Shut up and listen!" Gorkhy screamed. "Sometimes you can hear 'em hit bottom."

And the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds, the animals, the monsters, they did shut up and listen, hoping to hear a body smash against the rocks below. They were too late. The Holers grumbled the customary curses about lost meat, and looked over to Lilly. Logan's tears were as hot as his fever.

"Now who the f.u.c.k's Logan?" Gorkhy shouted. "King, was she talkin' to you?"

Logan closed his eyes. What did it matter anymore?

41

It's time, Fatty," Ferl Khalius said. "He's not crazy enough to follow us across this."

They were fourteen hundred feet up Mount Hezeron, the tallest mountain on the Ceuran border. So far, the hike had been arduous, but the worst exposures had been of a dozen feet. From here, there were two ways over the mountain: through the notch to one side, or straight across the face. Ferl had nearly started a brawl at the last village by asking which way a brave man in a hurry would go.

Some of the villagers maintained that the face was never a good option, but that it would be especially bad this time of year. Even a light dusting of snow or freezing rain would make the path suicide. Others had maintained that going over the face was the only way to make it through the mountains before the snows. .h.i.t. Getting stuck in the steeps and the deeps that made the devil's pa.s.s through the notch would be certain death if it snowed. snow or freezing rain would make the path suicide. Others had maintained that going over the face was the only way to make it through the mountains before the snows. .h.i.t. Getting stuck in the steeps and the deeps that made the devil's pa.s.s through the notch would be certain death if it snowed.

And snow was coming.

Baron Kirof wasn't doing well. He was so scared of heights he'd been crying. "If-if he'd be crazy to follow us, what does that make us?"

"Eager to live. I grew up in mountains tougher than this." Ferl shrugged. "Follow or fall."

"Can't you leave me?" Baron Kirof was pathetic. Ferl had brought him along because he didn't know what would happen when he fled, and he'd wanted a bargaining chip. But maybe it had been a mistake. The fat man had slowed him down.

"They want you alive. If you stay here, that Vurdmeister will blast me off the rock. If you're with me, he might not."

"Might not?"

"Move, Fatty!"

Ferl Khalius looked at the dark clouds grimly. His tribe, the Iktana, was a mountain tribe. He was one of the best climbers he knew, but he'd never liked climbing. Battle he liked. Battle made you feel alive. But climbing was arbitrary, the mountain G.o.ds capricious. He'd seen the most devout clansman plunge to his death when he'd put his weight on a stone that had held Ferl-who was heavier-only a moment before. In battle, a stray arrow might kill you, of course, but you could move, you could fight. Death might still come, but it wouldn't find you scared, clinging to a bit of rock with slick fingers, praying against the next blast of wind.

This traverse wasn't the worst he'd seen. It climbed perhaps a hundred feet and its entire length was narrow, maybe three feet wide. Three feet was pretty d.a.m.n wide. It was the sheer drop that made that three feet seem ever so much smaller. Knowing that if you slipped you had absolutely no chance of catching yourself, that stumbling meant certain death, that did things to a man.

It was doing things to Fatty Kirof.

The baron, unfortunately, had no idea why he was important. Ferl hadn't been able to find out anything either. But Fatty was important enough that the G.o.dking had sent a Vurdmeister after them.

"You're going first, Fatty. I'll take all the gear, but that's all the mercy you get."

It wasn't mercy. It was practicality. Fatty would go slower with a pack, and if he fell, Ferl didn't want to lose his supplies.

"I can't do it," Baron Kirof said. "Please." Sweat was coursing down his round face. His little red whiskers quivered like a rabbit's.

Ferl drew his sword, the sword he'd given so much to protect, the sword that would make him a clan warlord. It was everything a warlord could want, a perfect sword, down to the highland runes on the steel that Ferl recognized but couldn't read.

He gestured with the sword, a little shrug that said, "Take your chances with the path, or take your chances with the sword."

The baron started onto the path. He was muttering too low for Ferl to hear him, but it sounded like he was praying.

Surprisingly, Fatty made good time. Ferl had to slap him once with the flat of his blade when he froze up and started scooting. They didn't have time to scoot. If they weren't far enough away from the Vurdmeister when he made it out of the trees, Ferl was dead. He'd chosen to go behind Fatty because it was the only way to keep the man moving, but it meant that he was exposed to whatever magic the Vurdmeister threw at them. If they weren't far enough away to make the Vurdmeister worry that he would kill the baron, it would be all over.

The view was breathtaking. They were past the middle of the exposure, and they could see forever. Ferl thought he could see Cenaria City, far to the northwest. It made it seem that they'd hardly covered any ground at all. But Ferl wasn't interested in the cloudless expanses to the north. He was interested in the slight p.r.i.c.k he'd just felt on his skin. Snow.

He looked up. The leading edge of the black wall of clouds was directly above them.

Fatty stopped. "The path is getting narrower."

"The Vurdmeister's out of the woods. We've got no choice."

The baron swallowed and started shuffling forward, his face pressed to the rock, his arms spread-eagled.

Behind them, the Vurdmeister was standing with his fists on his hips, furious.

Ferl looked ahead. Another thirty paces, and just one more hard section where the ledge narrowed to a foot and a half across. Fatty was sucking down the thin air, frozen.

"You can do this," Ferl told him. "I know you can."

Miraculously, Fatty started moving, shuffling, but with confidence, as if he'd found some well of courage in himself that he'd never known he had. "I'm doing it!" he said.

And he did. He made it past the narrowest part of the ledge and Ferl followed hard on his heels, kicking gravel out into s.p.a.ce and trying not to follow it. hard on his heels, kicking gravel out into s.p.a.ce and trying not to follow it.

The ledge began to widen and Fatty turned to walk rather than shuffle-even though the ledge was still less than three feet wide. He was laughing.

Then there was a blur of green past them and the ledge exploded in front of them.