Percepliquis Part 31

" 'Happy Founder's Day,' " the monk replied.

Next to where she found the flag, she noticed a small object. Reaching out, she found a copper pin in the shape of the letter P. Now more than ever she wished she could remember the dream from the night before, but the more she tried to recall, the more it slipped away.

Royce returned, waving them forward, and then he led them in a circle back to the boulevard. Here they began to see skeletons. They were in groups of twos and threes, lying crumpled to the ground as if they had died right where they stood. The only way to tell how many there were was by the number of skulls in the piles. As they progressed, the bone count increased. Skeletons lined either side of the road with skull counts of ten deep.

They entered a small square, a portion of which was flooded where the ground was cracked and sank away at a dramatic angle. The same green light that illuminated the sea lit the square and revealed a raised platform on which was a great statue of a man. He stood twenty feet tall, with a strong, youthful physique. A sword was in his right hand and a staff in the other. Arista had seen similar statues several times throughout the city and in each case the head was missing, broken at the neck and shattered.

Royce stopped again.

"Any idea if we are getting close to the palace?" he asked, looking at Myron.

"I only know that it is near the center," the monk replied.

"The palace is at the end of the Grand Mar," Arista told them. "That's what they used to call the boulevard we're on now. So it is just up ahead."

"The Grand Mar?" Myron said, more to himself than to her, and then nodded. "The Marchway."

"What are you babbling about?" Alric asked.

"There was said to be a great avenue in Percepliquis called the Grand Imperial Marchway, so called as it was often the site of parades. Ancient descriptions declared it to have been wide enough for twelve soldiers to walk abreast and that it was made up of two lanes divided by a row of trees. Imperial troops would march down the right side to the palace, where the emperor would review them from his balcony, and then they would return down the other side."

"They were fruit trees," Arista said. "The trees that grew in the center of the Grand Mar-fruit trees that blossomed in spring. They used to make a fermented drink from the blossoms called... Trembles."

"How do you know that?" Myron asked.

She looked at him and pretended to be surprised. "I'm a wizardess."

They paused to have a short meal on the steps of an impressive building off the main boulevard. Stone lions, similar to those that guarded the entrance to the city, sat on either side. A fountain stood in the street at the center of an intersection. The water no longer sprayed and the pool was filled with a black liquid.

"What books have you got there?" Alric asked, seeing Myron sift through his pack and pull out one of the five that Bulard had saved.

"This one is called The Forgotten Race by Dubrion Ash. It deals mostly with the history of the dwarves."

"What's that now?" Magnus asked, leaning over to look closer at the pages.

"According to this, mankind is actually native to Calis-isn't that interesting? And dwarves started in what we know as Delgos. The elves of course are from Erivan, but they quickly occupied Avryn."

"What about the Ghazel?" Hadrian asked.

"Funny you should ask," he said, flipping back several pages. "I was just reading about that too. You see, men appeared in Calis during the Urintanyth un Dorin and would have-"

"Huh?" Mauvin asked.

"It means the Great Struggle with the Children of Drome. You see, the dwarves warred with the elves for centuries, nearly six hundred years, in fact, until the fall of Drumindor in 1705-that's pre-imperial reckoning, of course-about two thousand years before Novron built this city. The dwarves went underground after that. As it turns out, the early human tribes would have failed-perished-if not for the contact they had with the exiled dwarves who traded with them."

"Aha!" the dwarf said. "And how do they treat us for our kindness now? Ghettos, refusals of citizenship, bans on dwarven guilds, special taxes, persecution-it's a sad reward."

"Quiet!" Royce suddenly told everyone, and stood up. He looked left and then right. "Get ready to move," he said, and leaving the lantern, he climbed down the steps, heading back the way they had come.

"You heard him," Hadrian said.

"But we just sat down," Alric complained.

"If Royce says get ready to move, and he has that look on his face, you do what he says if you want to live."

They gathered their belongings back into their bags. Arista took one more mouthful of salt pork and a swallow of water before stashing the rest in her pack. She was just pulling the straps over her shoulders when Royce reappeared.

"We're being tracked," he told them in a whisper.

"How many?" Hadrian asked.

"Five."

"A hunting party." Hadrian drew his swords. "Everyone get moving. Royce and I will catch up."

"But they're just five," Arista protested. "Can't we avoid them?"

"It's not the five I am worried about," Hadrian told her. "Now go. Just keep moving up the avenue."

He and Royce moved back down the road at a trot. She watched them go as a sinking feeling pulled at her stomach. Alric led them forward at a run, past the fountain and on up the Grand Mar.

This part of the city was familiar to her. This road, these buildings-she had seen them before. Gone were the brilliant white alabaster walls and brightly painted doors. Now they were dingy and brown, cracked, fractured, chipped, and like everything else, covered in a layer of dirt. As in the rest of the city, the columned halls stood on misaligned stones.

Alric led them around a ma.s.sive fallen statue whose head had severed at its neck and lay on its side, its features bashed and broken. They then leapt a fallen column, and as soon as she cleared it, Arista stopped. She knew this pillar; it was the Column of Destone. She turned left and saw the narrow road Ebonydale. That was the way Esrahaddon had gone to meet Jerish and Nevrik. She looked forward down the Mar. She should be able to see the dome, but it was not there. Ahead was only rubble.

"Arista!" She heard Alric calling to her and she ran once more.

Royce and Hadrian paused near the headless statue, where the algae in the water cast an eerie green radiance to the underside of all things. Royce motioned with two spread fingers that a pair were coming up one side of the street and two on the other. While the two pairs were mere shadows to Hadrian, the fifth was quite visible as he loped up the center of the boulevard like an ape hunched over and traveling on three limbs. His ma.s.sive claws clicked intentionally on the stone as signals to the others. Every few feet he would pause, raise his head, and sniff the air with his hooked, ring-pierced nose. He wore a headdress made from the blackened fin of a tiger shark, a mark of his station-a token he would have obtained alone in the sea with no more than his claws. He was the chief warrior of the hunting party-the largest and meanest-and the others looked to him for direction. They all carried the traditional sachel blades-curved scimitars, narrow at the hilt and wider at the tip, where a half-moon scoop formed a double-edged point. Like all Ghazel, he also carried a small trilon bow with a quiver slung over one shoulder.

Royce drew out Alverstone and nodded to Hadrian as he slipped into the darkness. Hadrian gave him a minute; then, taking a breath, he also moved forward. He closed the distance, keeping the statue between him and the Ghazel. To his surprise, he was able to reach the platform before the warrior noticed him and let out the expected howl. Immediately arrows whistled and glinted off the stone.

The warrior rushed him, his sachel slicing the air. Fighting a Ghazel was always different from fighting men, but the moment the two swords connected, Hadrian no longer needed to think. His body moved on its own, a step, a lunge. The fin-endowed warrior responded exactly as Hadrian wanted. Hadrian caught the warrior's next stroke with his short sword and saw the momentary shock in the Ghazel's eyes when his b.a.s.t.a.r.d sword came around, removing his arm at the elbow. A short spin and Hadrian took the warrior's head, fin and all.

A high-pitched shriek announced the charge of two more Ghazel. Hadrian always appreciated how they announced their attacks. He was able to step out from his shelter now-the rain of arrows having ended.

The two bared their pointed teeth and black gums, cackling.

Hadrian shoved the length of his short sword into the stomach of the closest. Dark blood bubbled up from the wound. Without looking to see the reaction of the remaining Ghazel, he swung his other blade behind him and felt it sink into flesh.

Hadrian heard fast-moving footsteps and looked up. Across the open square Royce ran at him, carrying a Ghazel bow and quiver of arrows. The thief was making no attempt at stealth, his cloak flying behind him.

"What's up? Did you get the others?"

"Yep," he said. As he ran by, he tossed the bow and quiver to Hadrian and added, "You might need these."

Hadrian chased after him as he ran back up the Grand Mar. "What's the hurry?"

"They weren't alone."

Hadrian glanced back over his shoulder but saw nothing. "How many?"

"A lot."

"How many are a lot?"

"Too many to stand around and count."

The party reached the end of the boulevard, which looked nothing like what Arista remembered from her dream. The Ulurium Fountain-with its four horses bursting out of the frothing waters-was gone, crushed by giant stones. To the right, the rotunda of the Cenzarium still stood, but it was a faded, broken version of its former self, the dome gone, the walls blackened. To the left, the columned facade of the Hall of Teshlor remained intact. While it had weathered the years better, the building was just as grime-covered as the rest. Most importantly, the great golden dome of the magnificent palace-in fact, the whole palace-was missing. Before her, only a hopeless mountain of rubble remained. All around the parameter, every inch of s.p.a.ce was carpeted with bones of the dead.

Reaching the end of the road, Alric spun around and held the lantern high. "Arista! Which way?"

She shook her head and shrugged. "The palace-it should be just ahead of us. I think-I think it's destroyed."

"That's just great!" Gaunt bellowed. "Now what do we do?"

"Shut up!" Mauvin barked at him.

"Is this as far as Hall got?" Alric asked Myron.

"No," the monk replied. "He wrote that he entered the palace."

"How?"

"He found a crevice."

"Crevice? Where?"

"He wrote 'Fearful of the drums in the darkness, and afraid to sleep in the open, I sought refuge in a pile of rocks. I found a crevice just large enough for me to slip through. Expecting nothing more than a mere pocket to sleep in, I was elated to discover a buried corridor. On my way out I was careful to mark it so that I might find it should I return this way again.' "

They began searching, crawling among the boulders and broken stones. The collapse of the building covered the entire breadth of the broad boulevard with a ma.s.s of fallen stones containing hundreds of crevices, each of which might hide an entrance. They had only begun looking when Royce and Hadrian returned, their weapons still drawn and slick with dark blood.

"That's not good," she heard Hadrian say the moment he saw the pile.

"There's a crevice somewhere that leads inside," Arista said.

"There's a horde of Ghazel right behind us," Royce told her.

"Everyone inside that building on the left," Hadrian shouted.

They ran across the square, struggling over the piles of bones and rocks that blanketed the walk and steps to the Hall of Teshlor. Yelps and cries erupted behind them. Looking back, Arista spotted goblins skidding across the stone, scratching their claws like dogs on a hunt. Their eyes flashed in the darkness with a light from within, a sickly yellow glow rising behind an oval pupil. Muscles rippled along hunched backs and down arms as thick as a man's thigh. Mouths filled with rows and rows of needle-like teeth spilled out the sides as if there was not enough room in their mouths to contain them.

"Don't watch, run!" Hadrian shouted, grabbing hold of her arm and pulling her across the loose mounds of bones.

Alric and Mauvin sped up the steps, heaving themselves simultaneously against the great doors.

Hadrian threw Arista to the ground, where she fell, sc.r.a.ping her knee and bruising her cheek.

"Wha-" Her protest was silenced as a hail of arrows peppered around them, sparking off the stones. He hauled her to her feet once more and shoved her forward.

"Go!" Hadrian ordered.

She ran as fast as she could, charging up the steps. Myron and Magnus, who had just slipped inside the big double doors, waved at her to hurry. She glanced behind her. Gaunt was just reaching the base of the steps.

Arrows flew again.

Arista heard the hiss and Hadrian pulled her behind the pillars, but Gaunt had no such protection. An arrow caught him in the leg and he fell, sliding to a stop.

He rolled over to his back and cried out as the first goblin reached him.

"Degan!" Arista screamed.

A white dagger slit the Ghazel's throat, and the princess spotted Royce straddling the fallen Gaunt. Three more Ghazel rushed forward. Two fell dead almost instantly as Hadrian joined Royce, taking one with each of his swords. Distracted, the third turned toward the new threat just as Royce stepped behind him and the goblin fell.

"Get up, you fool!" Royce shouted at Gaunt, grabbing him by his cloak and pulling him to his feet. "Now run!"

"Arrow in my leg!" was all Gaunt managed to say through gritted teeth.

"Look out!" Arista shouted as nearly a dozen more Ghazel charged.

Hadrian's swords flashed as he threw himself into the fight. Royce vanished only to reappear and vanish again, his white dagger flashing like a sparkling star in the night.

"Back into your holes, you beasts!" Alric shouted as he suddenly ran out with a lantern in one hand and his sword in the other. Mauvin chased after his king as Alric leapt into the fray fearlessly, cleaving into the nearest goblin. Her brother took an arm off his opponent and then ran him through. Arista's heart stopped as Alric failed to see the blade of another Ghazel swinging from the side at his head. Mauvin saw it. A lightning-quick flash of his sword blocked the attack, sliced through the blade, and killed the goblin in one stroke.

Gaunt was up and hobbling forward.

Arista hiked up her robe and ran back down the stairs to him. "Put your arm around me!" she shouted, moving to his wounded side.

Gaunt put his weight on her. From behind them more goblins entered the square. Twenty-perhaps as many as thirty-ran forward shrieking and yelping, their claws clicking the stone, and a drone came from them like the sound of a swarm of locusts.

"Time to go!" Hadrian declared. Reaching Alric, he pulled the lantern from the king's hand and smashed it on the stone before the attacking Ghazel. A burst of flame rose along with more cries and squeals.

"I've got him!" Hadrian told her. "Run!"

They all bolted for the doors that Magnus and Myron held open. As soon as they entered, the monk and the dwarf pulled them shut. Royce slid the latch.

"Get that stone bench in front of the door!" Royce shouted.

"What bench?" Mauvin asked. "It's pitch-black in here!"

Arista barely thought about it and her robe glowed with a cold blue light that revealed the entrance hall. Musty and stale, it was much like the library, covered in cobwebs and dust. The white-and-black-checkered floor was cracked and uneven. A chandelier that had hung from the ceiling rested in the center of the floor. Braziers lay toppled, stone molding was scattered, and plaster chips littered the ground. Great tapestries still clung to either wall. Faded and dirty, they were otherwise unmarred, as were long curtains that draped the walls. Stairs led up from either side of the front doors and past two tall, narrow windows that looked out onto the square. It was then that Arista realized how much like a small castle-fortress the Teshlor Guild was.

Boom! Boom! The goblins hammered against the door, shaking the dust off the walls.

Having laid Gaunt down near the center of the room, Hadrian pulled the goblin bow from his shoulder and ran up the steps. He made use of the arrow slits to fire on the goblins outside. She heard a cry for every tw.a.n.g of the tiny bow and soon the hammering stopped.

"They've moved off," Hadrian said, leaning heavily against the wall. "Out of bow range, at least, but now that they know they have guests, they won't leave us alone."

Royce looked around, scanning the stairs, the ceiling, and the walls. "Question is... is there another way in here? And perhaps more importantly, another way out?" He pulled the remaining lanterns from Myron's pack and began lighting them.