Into the Valley Read online

  Chapter IV

  Aurelian traced a finger over his teeth making sure all were in place then ran his tongue over cracked lips tasting the saltiness of the caked blood. Dr. Iskander braced him while they walked from the doors to the river then he waited as Aurelian stripped and waded waist deep into the water. The athletic frame, now covered in blotches of purple and yellow, had been exchanged for the limbs and sagging skin of a man three times his age. Aurelian tensed as the electric cold of the current seemed to pass through his aching body then stepped from the waters, taking the towel Dr. Iskander had fetched from his hut.

  “I have never seen a man stay so long in those waters.”

  “Do you see this mark?” Aurelian asked crooking a finger at a line beneath the glyphs on his cheek. “It is the mark of the djinsai. To be one, an Akkahellonian youth must survive for a month in the deep caves of the Great Cauldron. This world is not new to me.”

  Aurelian set his gaze on the balcony far up the rock wall as Dr. Iskander sat on a boulder nearby, but the other residents clung to the edges of the homes and fires like street cats spying on the pair.

  “What are you thinking?” Dr. Iskander asked.

  “I was told to accept my fate.”

  “And you haven’t, I take it.”

  “Our people never accept defeat. It would have been wiser to kill me then to leave me here. I will never accept this life, so it is on me to change it.”

  Aurelian wiped his lips with the back of his hand, and his eyes flared in the fire light.

  “Is there a place I can ford the river?”

  Dr. Iskander led him to a section of the river several lengths away where rocks thrust from the water like broken fingers and formed a jagged bridge to the other side. Without a word Aurelian climbed on the nearest.

  “Leaving so soon?”

  “I won’t stay here and let time eat who I am,” said Aurelian. “If I have to be old then that is the way, but I am either leaving or dying fighting. He thinks he’s beaten me, so I suspect he’d never expect an escape now.”

  Dr. Iskander scratched at the scales on his neck.

  “I can’t climb that far.”

  “I understand,” said Aurelian.

  Dr. Iskander wished him luck as Aurelian picked his way across the river then staggered over the ground on the other side to the base of the wall. By the time Dr. Iskander had returned to the fires, Aurelian was plucking his way up the rock face like a malformed spider, and as the Akkahellonian climbed higher, other residents of the valley approached to query the doctor only for him to hush them. To his wonder, Aurelian was well over half way up the wall and the closer he came to the lip of the balcony the quieter the crowd became.

  It seemed an eternity before Aurelian was near enough to reach for the balcony, but as his fingertips brushed the edge his foot slipped sending stones clattering down the rock face. Dr. Iskander felt his hope deflate, but before gravity could determine the outcome, Aurelian snatched a railing, hauled himself over, and disappeared from view. Dr. Iskander shook his head and laughed in disbelief before turning back to the crowd.

  Cheers trickled up to Aurelian who had slumped to the ground, rolling his hands to stop their shaking. He kneaded the cramps in his calves and shoulders and hoped neither Lord Abraham nor his guard caught him in such a vulnerable condition. Once his breathing steadied, Aurelian entered the corridor beyond without sparing a glance over the edge.

  He stalked the empty halls, but there were few differences to tell them apart. There were wooden doors painted in bright colors down each passage, but he was reluctant to open one without knowledge of what lay behind them.

  He hesitated at a junction that allowed him to go left or right and heard footsteps approach, but because of the echo he was unsure of the direction. He knew action was superior to inaction, and chose the corridor to his right, pushing forward with his cat-like tread.

  He passed a ramp descending down to doors he assumed led into the valley. He descended, but an examination revealed no obvious mechanism for their opening so returned to the corridors above. The footsteps had faded, but he expected at any moment a minotaur to turn a corner and discover him creeping through this mausoleum. A hum and the pulse of machinery came from somewhere in front of him and ignoring the discipline of stealth, he raced forward. As he rounded a corner, he collided with a minotaur lazing against the wall.

  His momentum stunned the dozing sentry, and before the guard could utter a noise, Aurelian chopped his throat then twisted the mohobi from his hand as the bull reached for his neck. Wielding it with both hands Aurelian swung the ornate club into the side of the minotaur’s head, but in his weakened state it was only a stunning blow and the effort caused Aurelian to lose his balance. As his snarling opponent sprung at him, Aurelian gathered himself for another strike that collapsed the side of the bull’s head.

  Aurelian stood over the crumpled mountain of flesh then, using the mohobi as a walking stick, entered the room the minotaur had been guarding. The room was as it had been hours earlier, and he traced the hum to the second sarcophagus and staggered across the room to peer in the window. Lord Abraham’s eyes were closed, and his face was a mask of tranquility showing no trauma and reminding Aurelian of his grandfather lying in state as the citizens of the Third Table passed in review. On a cart next to the machine was a stack of folded clothes and a sword with a gilded basket resting on top of the pile, but there was no sign of the pistol.

  His mouth a pressed line, Aurelian strapped the belt and scabbard about his waist then rapped on the glass. Lord Abraham flashed to life, and as recognition flickered across his face, there was a click as the casket locked. Aurelian cursed himself for his swagger before attaining victory.

  Neither the body of the machine nor the glass would yield to his pounding; however, while he rested Aurelian noticed the tubes protruding from the base of the pedestals on which the sarcophagi rested led to the boxes against the wall. He returned to the glass of Lord Abraham’s sarcophagus.

  “I know you can’t hear me, but say good-bye to your devilish toy,” he said, enunciating each word.

  Lord Abraham screamed unheard words at the now vacant glass. Each blow hammered against the boxes sent a jolt of pain through Aurelian’s arms and shoulders, but he kept to his work with the earnestness of a quarryman. Glass faces the size of pocket watches popped and the metal coverings bent until they fell away to reveal their innards. Aurelian ripped then out, and there was a flash of green then a trail of acidic smoke snaked from inside. A flame nibbled at the multi-colored wires and hunted around the cogs for more fuel. In seconds, the fire had engulfed the machine and spread to the surrounding devices.

  He remained until the heat was overwhelming then cracked the door and seeing nothing except the corpse on the floor left the conflagration growing behind him. With less caution than he cared for, he rushed away from the commotion rising at his back and was harried into a dead end passage where he heard doors opening and closing from around the corner. Aurelian could not leave without the searchers spotting him, and even at his peak he could not have stood against the numbers and power of the minotaur.

  He paced the hall when he noticed the globes framing the blank wall. He searched the wall for any indication of a door, expecting to hear a cry of discovery from behind him; however, before his worries became reality, a portion of the wall submitted to his touch revealing a lever, which when pulled caused a door to swung outward revealing a passage. Taking only the time needed to replace the door behind him, Aurelian snatched a globe from its resting place and propelled himself into the darkness.