Feathered Dragon - Douglas Niles [53]
a man.
They closed in then, waving and swirling. Halloran saw tendrils of darkness reaching out toward them, and he felt cold terror grip his soul. Beside him, Jhatli whimpered, and he felt that the youth would have fled if not for the presence of his companions. Hal, too, considered flight as a serious alternative.
But some deeper calling bade him stay. He knew that the creatures outside this temple offered nothing but cold, sudden death. He had to trust the instincts of those who had led him here.
Coton started forward toward the ring of encircling darkness. Dimly Halloran saw something dark and intangible rise before the priest, and then Coton stopped, restrained by an invisible barrier. Hal’s flesh crawled at the sight of dim fingers of darkness plucking at the cleric’s robe, tugging him back toward the other humans.
If the cleric felt the same revulsion, he didn’t display it. Instead, he slowly yielded to the insistent force, stepping back until he again stood among his companions.
“Ah, these are the spirit wardens,” said Lotil softly, as if announcing a pleasant revelation. “They stand astride the paths of the gods, barring the paths to all.”
Before the blind feather-worker, Coton nodded gently, as if agreeing with Lotil’s assessment.
“To all?” Halloran, his fear rapidly fading, growled in frustration.
“So it is said,” Lotil replied with a shrug. “Though gods are fickle. Perhaps the right sacrifice may open the path.”
Coton turned to regard Erixitl. The priest’s eyes were soft and understanding. Behind them, they heard heavy foot-
falls and growling, snapping commands as the beasts of the Viperhand followed them into the ruin. Several guttural barks sounded close, and it seemed that the monsters followed the same path into the tangled ruin as the companions had.
Erix hesitated for a moment. She cast a pain-filled look at her father, and though the blind man could not see her, Lotil nodded slightly. Raising her hands to her shoulders, Erix lifted the leather thong suspending her amulet over her head. Holding it gently, allowing its dazzling presence to swing lightly in her hands for the last time, she stepped past the priest and laid it on the ground, at the very feet of that dancing shades.
Then the way lay open before them, though they couldn’t see the darkness recede. Instead, it was a sense of lightness. that propelled them forward, and they sensed no barrier to their flight.
The pale light of Hal’s sword lit their path as he stepped into the lead. Coton led the horse, while the keen-eyed Daggrande brought up the rear. They followed a winding corridor, sensing its descent under their feet.
Behind them, the howls of their pursuers echoed from the stone walls, a cacophony of chaos hastening them along. Then the snarls turned to yelps of terror, and soon the sounds of pursuit turned to flight as the monsters fled the nightmare wardens of the tomb.
* * * * * From the chronicles of Coton:
In the long darkness of escape, we strive to reach the dawn.
Through the night we flee, following the roads of the gods beneath the City of Tewahca. Halloran calls on his power of sorcery, a power J have never seen, and brings a bright glow to the tip of his sword. This lights our way through the deepest of the maze.
And here we pass tombs of great kings and the graves of
brave warriors. Rich chiefs, too, lie here amid great treasures-heaps of gold that sometimes rise higher than the burial mounds themselves or floating images of pluma [hat waft temptingly overhead.
from these hallowed niches, dark figures move toward us some wrapped in their burial shrouds, others bare skeletons, animated by some dim and forgotten power. They stumble and shuffle in a ghastly facade of attack, and our courage is tested by each new nightmare.
But always die blessing of the spirit wardens looms over us, and it gives us passage where others would surely die. Finally we move from the deep tombs, working our way again toward the