Sentinelspire - Mark Sehestedt [122]
"L-lady?" Ulaan called out.
It was Talieth, still trapped by the vines up in the trees.
"Ulaan!" Talieth called out. Lewan had never heard her voice like this. The proud queen, the temptress, was gone. She sounded weak and frightened. It was taking the last vestiges of her courage to call out. "Ulaan, call for help! Please! Tell the blades the night is red! Call for-!"
The leaves rustled and thrashed, and Talieth's cry ended in a shriek.
The creatures pushed them onward. Not roughly, but there was no resisting them.
"Boy!"It was Sauk, calling out from above. "Hear me, boy! You're going up there, you tell your master I'm coming for him! I'm going to eat his heart! Tell him!"
There was more thrashing, much more violent, and Sauk's roaring did not end. Lewan could still hear it echoing off the stone as he and Ulaan were led inside the tower.
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Halfway up the stairs, Ulaan stumbled and fell. When she didn't rise, Lewan stooped and grabbed her arm with his free hand. The creature nearest him hissed.
"I'm just helping her up," he said.
The creature blinked at him, displaying no emotion or acknowledgment that he understood-or cared.
Lewan looked down at Ulaan and helped her to rise. He thought he heard her murmur something. "What?" he asked.
"What?" she said as she regained her feet.
They continued walking up the stairs.
"I thought I heard you say something," said Lewan.
Ulaan did not answer.
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At the top of the stairs before a stout wooden door, the creatures stopped. The door opened, and by the sound of rustling leaves and creaking branches, Lewan knew that the vines wrapped around it were doing the opening. Beyond the doorway were more stairs, encased in an arched stone hallway.
The creatures turned to him and bowed. One of them hissed and said, "Lur'ashai, ash sissaan."
"They want us to go up, I think," said Lewan.
"Do we have a choice?" said Ulaan.
"You want to tell them no?"
She considered a moment, then said, "You still have your hammer?"
He patted the stone head of the hammer protruding from the top of his belt. "Yes."
A moment's silence, then she said, "You go first."
Lewan led the way. The door shut behind them. The steps, wide and shallow, wound around the tower several times, then passed through a large opening in the ceiling.
Lewan and Ulaan emerged onto a wide roof, lit by a few braziers and several lamps, their flames low and weak in the drizzle. But dozens of the meandering lights had climbed the tower and floated about, making the shadows seem to cringe and gasp in their passing. Great columns of stone, twisted in the Imaskari fashion, stood at each corner. Statues of ancient Imaskari heroes-or perhaps they were gods-stood atop them, and each supported the end of one of the great stone tubes. One, a beautiful woman, held forth a silver urn, still untarnished by the years, and clear water poured from it. Opposite her, a bearded man stood amidst stone waves, and from the tip of each wave, water streamed out in fountains. The water filled a pool before running off in channels and through sluices over the edge of the tower. The other two-one holding aloft a stone sun, the other pounding stone flames over a graven forge-stood cold. Vegetation dominated everything-trees growing up through broken stone, vines and creepers covering stone and trees, moss carpeting many surfaces, petals and lily pads floating in the water.
"And there they are!" said a voice behind them.
Lewan turned. On the far side of the roof stood an old man, dressed in a long robe and leaning on a staff made from twisted branches. Lewan knew the voice at once-the voice of the man he'd met on the mountain, and the voice that had spoken through the creature after rescuing Lewan and Ulaan from the guards. Behind the Old Man, Master Berun sat shirtless upon a wide stone table covered in leaves and flowers. Most of his exposed skin had been painted with runes and holy symbols, and