The Tyranny of Ghosts_ Legacy of Dhakaan - Don Bassingthwaite [40]
“They’re coming,” he said.
“I can tell,” said Ekhaas. The ghosts’ song had swelled until it echoed in the shaft. “How fast?”
“Slow.” He grimaced. “But they won’t get tired.”
“At least they’re not flying,” said Tenquis.
Geth dropped back to climb with them. “You’ve used magic to help us march faster before,” he said to her.
She’d thought of the spell, too, and dismissed it. “They’re drawn to my songs. We’d only have to fight more of them.”
“Not if you can make us faster than they are.”
Ekhaas pressed her lips together for a moment—then nodded. “Stay close,” she warned.
She’d sung spells in battle many times. She’d sung spells in stealth. She’d sung a spell to inspire an entire army and had almost turned the tide of a battle. Somehow, though, summoning up a song as she climbed the long stairs seemed harder than anything she’d ever done before. Her chest already ached at every breath. Darkness and the weight of a mountain pressed down around her. The angry spirits of ancient duur’kala pursued her, and the lives of three of her friends depended on her magic.
And yet she felt a strange flush of satisfaction as she focused her will and sang. She might never be welcome among her clan again, but she was doing something no Kech Volaar had dared to do before. If she and the others could break free, the tiny piece of knowledge that she carried might be the key to saving a nation.
Slapping her hands to set the rhythm and stomping down with every footfall to reinforce it, Ekhaas let the magic flow out of her. She didn’t try to sing against the chorus of the ghosts this time. Instead she sang with it, as if their song were a wind and she were a boat running before it. Her climbing pace quickened. So did the others’ as the magic swept them up. The stone steps raced past beneath them until it seemed as if even the floating globes that she had conjured for light might have trouble keeping up.
And if the chorus of the ghosts grew even stronger in response to her song, it just pushed them along a little faster. The whole shaft echoed and rang with the power of the songs sung within it.
Then they were breaking over the edge of the shaft like a wave breaking on a beach. The transition from racing up the stairs to running across the floor of the cavern made Ekhaas stumble a bit, but she recovered without losing the cadence of her song. They ran on, a little more slowly as the rough floor forced them to watch their steps and the twisting paths among the artifacts once again forced Ekhaas to try and recall the way through the vault back to the stairs that would lead them to safety. Which way to turn at the iron markers? Here left. There right.
She didn’t even notice that the ghostly song they’d left behind in the shaft had been renewed until Geth shouted. She felt the hard grip of his gauntlet on her shoulder, thrusting her aside. A shimmering mask of death, mouth open in song, eyes sealed by untold ages, whirled past her. The ground seemed to rise up and slam into the entire length of her body.
The rhythm broke. The song ended—and another wailing song, angrier than ever, took its place. Ekhaas sucked in a gasping breath and rolled over, looking for the others. Tenquis and Chetiin hung back, wand and dagger at the ready, as they peered off into the darkness, but Geth …
Geth stood with Wrath drawn and poised. Before him, one of the ghosts swayed back and forth as if looking for an opening in his defense. Its fingers stroked the air. Its song sank down and wavered like a breeze.
It struck.
But Geth struck faster. Wrath spun in his grasp, cutting a sweeping arc through misty arm and insubstantial body. Radiance like fading twilight burst from the purple byeshk, the ancient magic of the blade biting deep. The ghostly duur’kala’s song rose in an inharmonious screech as the phantom crumpled