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It was the day after Al and Tandor had been captured. Very early in the morning, Dave and Hanomer had searched the lava field and found another route to the walls. Hanomer had crept all the way around the base of the fortress without seeing anyone up on the walls and, then had climbed up the rough stone, but could see nothing except the occasional guard lounging about. Horatio had tagged along and had also become friendly with Hanomer. While Dave was waiting for Hanomer to return, Horatio’s sniffing around one of the fissures had Dave wondering if an underground passage might lead inside. Tonight, he would try a search around the walls himself to see if he had missed anything and maybe even search in the fissures to see if an underground passage would answer. Hanomer would try a more thorough exploration of the inside of the fortress. However, he had reported to Dave that the guards had hounds on patrol. Hanomer could hide from the guards, but the hounds would find him, no matter how cleverly he hid himself inside the fortress.
Several days passed. Each night, Hanomer climbed the walls and crept around the battlements. He reported overhearing guards gossiping that two prisoners were being held deep in the dungeons. Everyone seemed to be waiting for someone called Zambor to finish a task that occupied his time.
“So let me get this straight,” said Dave to the group as he counted on his fingers, “One, Hanomer can’t explore the inside of the fortress because the hounds can smell him; two, we know Al and Tandor are in there, but we have no idea where they’re being held; three, we have to gamble that, improbable as it seems, one of these cracks in the lava field somehow penetrates the fortress and four, we can pull off a rescue. Failing that, then five, we launch a frontal assault on a fortress containing hundreds of vicious soldiers and hounds.” He glared around for confirmation. Everyone looked away, including Arlana, who had tears in her eyes.
Dave grumbled, “Yep the odds are about what I would expect travelling with this crowd.”
Arlana looked up. “Husband, stop complaining—you’re frightening the men.”
“Arlana, I’m used to these long odds. Look at the odds we faced rescuing Al from captivity in Halcyon—why is it always Al that needs rescuing, by the way? I’m just saying this seems to be ‘business as usual’ for us. That doesn’t mean I have to like it. All I want is an unfair advantage once in a while.”
Since their only hope, short of storming the fortress, was finding an underground passage, they focused on searching the pathways. The fissures opened up to a labyrinth of passages. One led to a river of lava deep underground, others led to dead ends. Horatio proved very useful; three times Dave found himself lost, but each time Horatio brought him back.
The three were at the lookout they had discovered on their first day, discussing their next exploration moves, when Dave heard a sound in the passage. Signalling to Arlana and Hanomer, they crouched together and pointed their crossbows at the passage opening. Tom Chartrand’s head poked through. Dave breathed a sigh of relief. Dave helped Chartrand up, who was followed closely by Dwight Larsen. Floyd Linder’s shaved head appeared next, followed by Thomas, Al’s brother. Finally, the clean-shaven, brown face of Edward Makalo came into view. “Surprise!” he said, smiling. “You didn’t expect to see me here.”
The friends hugged, clapping each other on the back. Linder described how the three had followed the electronic bread crumbs to find Arlana, Dave and Hanomer. The vuls, apparently, had caused them much less trouble.
Dave told the newcomers about his own group’s explorations around the fortress and in the fissures underground. Finally, he turned to Makalo. “You’re right,” he said, “I didn’t expect you here.”
“Well,” said Makalo, “I knew as soon as you left that it would be a long trip. I sold my place and put everything into trust with my cousin, who’s an investment broker. I told him I was going on a long trip and he wouldn’t be able to reach me. We set up the trust through a lawyer with power of attorney, so that no one would accuse my cousin of foul play. I also had my cousin pay the taxes and utilities on Al and Pam’s place, and he found a caretaker to look after the house and replace the damaged door.
“I also bought more equipment. We each brought back two high powered rifles and as much ammo as we could carry. We have night vision goggles and a portable cell broadcaster so we can keep in touch. Given that you didn’t come back right away, I figured it could be months or even years until we get home.”
“So, what happened with Kyra and Sophie?” asked Arlana.
“We used the boat to make our way back out of the swamp at night,” said Linder. “We phoned Makalo using the portable cellphone we had stashed with our cache before we set out, so he was waiting for us at the landing. Then we drove Kyra and Sophie to their families. We warned them to keep their captivity quiet if they want to be left alone by the media and the government.”
“Do you think they’ll listen?” asked Dave.
“No, not a chance,” said Linder. “You can’t keep a big secret like this quiet for long. It will get out, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the Feds start combing the swamp for our departure point.
“I hate to say ‘I told you so’ but that’s why I didn’t want them going back,” he added. “Things here are bad enough without opening a window for the Feds to send black ops teams here to explore this new world.”
“I don’t see that we had any choice,” said Dave. “We couldn’t very well have kept Kyra and Sophie here against their will.”
“No, not against their will,” said Linder. “Well, enough said. That train has left the station. We’d better deal with what we have before us right now. Shouldn’t we be talking about how to get Al and Tandor out?”
Linder unpacked a black box about the size of a shoe box and set it up on a tripod. “This is the mini cellphone tower, Al asked me to bring back.”
Linder took out his own smartphone and typed into it. “I’m searching for Little Thomas’ radio frequency identification tag frequency using the mini tower.”
He waited for a few minutes and looked disappointed. “Nothing, he’s not within range. The range is about ten kilometers.”
The discussion continued, but no good options surfaced. Some wanted to keep searching the underground passages, but the majority of the group wanted to act directly. They finally settled on sending Hanomer up onto the wall with a rope, and then climbing after him. Hanomer could search in the depths of the fortress while the rest watched his back and prepared to fight their way out. No one believed this reckless plan had much chance of success, particularly since the dogs would smell them, but their situation was desperate.
The others were trying to get some sleep before the attack, while Dave kept watch. Suddenly, he saw lights come on in the uppermost chamber of the central tower of the fortress, and then a long horn blast sounded. When he started to see activity on the walls, he groaned. “Our chances have just gone from ‘low’ to ‘no chance at all,’” he said aloud.
He woke the others and they joined him in his watch. Presently Dave saw three figures emerge in the lava field, wending their way around the smoking fissures. Dave pulled out his binoculars to make sure—“It’s Al, Tandor and a third guy!” he exclaimed. “They seem to be making a run for it! We have to move. They don’t know where we are.”
Dave, Arlana, and Hanomer raced down to the lava field and chose a path to intercept Al’s group. Loping around a pillar of hardened lava, Dave saw the third man ahead of him. Weasel stopped and tried to go back. Al stepped around him. “Dave,” Al said, as he ran up to give Dave a bear hug. “I am so glad to see you. This is Weasel. He helped us escape and we promised to take him with us.”
“We’ve got to move,” said Dave. “Not that way. Follow me.”
They retraced their steps until they rejoined the rest of the group. Just then, the main gate opened and a troop of soldiers marched out along with several hounds of prodigious size.
Weasel said. “They’re going to find us. Our only chance be to make for the escarpment and go down the terraces out of their reach. This way.”
Dave looked back. What he saw made him shudder. A figure about three meters tall was striding among the solders. He had a head like the Necroans, disproportionately small for his body. At this distance Dave couldn’t see clearly, but the bearded face seemed familiar.
Weasel led them in a northerly direction over broken country. The baying of the hounds was rapidly getting closer. The dogs had their scent. Horatio growled, but Dave put his hand on the shaggy pup, who then followed Weasel quietly.
Abruptly, the group came to a deep chasm, a rent in the rock that descended down at least forty meters. The path they had been following crossed a stone bridge. But the bridge was broken and impassible. Dave stopped short. He heard the faint sound of water gurgling below them. He looked up and down the mouth of the chasm. There was enough light that he could see a fair distance with his enhanced night vision. “We go left,” he said heading off at a lope.
After travelling about five hundred meters, they crossed a rock arch that spanned the chasm. They were in the midst of crossing when the first of the hounds—trained lupi—appeared. Their baying had stopped, but Dave heard the quiet brush of their paws on the rocks. These lupi were black as night with yellow eyes, and bodies the size of ponies. The lupi bolted straight for the rock bridge.
Makalo, Thomas, and Linder fired their rifles and Dave saw lupi shudder and stumble as the bullets went home. With Horatio behind him, Dave ran back across the rock bridge, drawing Gram as he ran. He finished off the wounded lupi as one by one they staggered forward to continue the attack.
On the other side of this first chasm there was a second. Dave led the group to the nearest end of the chasm mouth, where they rejoined the path they had been following before their way was blocked. As they neared the trail, they saw their pursuers appear on a rise about seventy meters behind them, separated by the chasm.
“Down!” said Linder.
As one, they dropped to the ground. Dave looked back to see who was coming. The huge figure, well-muscled, wearing clothes that were far too small for him, strode to the edge of the precipice and shouted.
“Gleeson, I know you’re there,” he said in a deep voice. “You’re looking for Pam. You’ll never get her. She’s dead. I killed her myself and threw her body to the jackals in Sheol. You won’t find my son, Little Thomas, either. I sent him far away to be brought up properly.
“I want you to think about what I’ve just said as I hunt you down, flay every piece of your skin off of you, and use all my arts to give you the slowest, most painful death possible.”
What’s going on? thought Dave. What’s happened to Bigelow? Is this what he came here for—to be made into a monster?
Just then Dave heard a rifle shot. Bigelow, the monster, spun, and dropped out of sight. Instantly, his troops started surging along the chasm toward the stone arch. Others fired crossbow bolts across the narrow chasm. Dave heard three more rifle reports and three crossbowmen collapsed. The rest took cover.
“Let’s move,” said Linder.
The group followed Weasel north at a quick trot until he stopped and waited for them to catch up. Ahead of them yawned the edge of Sheol. A bank of clouds hovered thousands of feet below them.
“How do we get down?” asked Linder, alarm in his voice.
“I don’t know,” squealed Weasel. “I only be getting us here. We find a way down. I thought we be having time.”
“Let’s head northeast along the edge,” said Linder. “That way we can’t be cut off and surrounded if some of those soldiers find another way to the edge.”
With Hanomer, Dave, and Arlana leading, they hurried along the edge of Sheol looking for anything that could be a pathway down. More lupi were coming up and the baying grew closer.
Finally, Hanomer disappeared over the edge followed by Arlana. Dave waited at the top and guided the others down. Weasel started descending just before Dave. As he followed, Dave thought he saw movement a few hundred meters back, from out of the corner of his eye.
Dave dropped over the edge of Sheol and came upon a series of ledges that formed crude steps—giant steps since the ledges were several meters apart. Far below he saw Hanomer climb down to the next ledge, with the others following in single file. Dave was last. Hurry, hurry, hurry. Bigelow’s men are coming up fast, he thought in near panic as he watched Arlana ahead of him.
At last, Arlana climbed down to the next ledge and Dave followed her. Once there, he ran along the rock shelf for thirty meters and then climbed down to the next giant step. Fortunately, there was an overhang, so they were only visible to the soldiers at the top when they crossed the lip of the next step.
They must just about be here by now. Dave could almost feel an arrow enter his torso. Still nothing happened. When Dave finally reached the fourth ledge, the first arrows began to fall, but they were wildly inaccurate.
The ledges ended and Dave could see Hanomer leading the group down a long chimney. The descent was time consuming and arduous, but Dave kept going. Arlana, lithe as ever, moved tirelessly. Dave was almost down, when he heard shouts and then gunshots. He increased his rate of descent to a reckless pace. When he was about ten feet from the bottom of the cliff, above a narrow fissure, he saw several large bipedal reptilian creatures emerging from under his position. Linder, Makalo, and Thomas fired again as the Trogs charged. Dave leapt down with Gram unsheathed. A rifle shot ricocheted off the rock, narrowly missing Dave’s shoulder. A Trog threw an octo at him, but Dave sliced it in half with Gram. No more Trogs emerged from the tunnel. Dave charged silently after the now-retreating Trogs, cutting down any that turned to fight. Linder and Al followed. The fighting ended.
“Is everyone okay?” asked Dave. Gradually those still under cover came out of hiding and joined the group.
“Where’s Weasel?” asked Al. Dave called his name, but there was no answer. Tandor said, “He is here.” Weasel lay dead, skewered by a Trog spear, his body partially hidden by a dead Trog that had fallen on top of him.
“He wanted to get away from Zambor to escape the Trogs,” said Al, sadness tinging his voice. “But a Trog killed him anyway,” he added. “He was a good man, despite his name.”
“Without him, we would have had an impossible task in prying you out of that fortress,” said Dave quietly. “We owe him a great debt.”
The group made a litter of Trog spears and carried Weasel’s body away from the site of the battle, further into the terrace woods. Using the spears, they dug a shallow grave on a small hill that rose out of the trees, and buried Weasel, covering his barrow with stones. Al fashioned a small cross and said quietly, “Friend Weasel, you trusted and helped us. I wish I could have brought you out of captivity to your people. May our loving God have mercy on your soul and grant you grace.”
The company planted the Trog spears in a circle around the barrow and stood with heads bowed. Hanomer, who was on watch, came to the hill and said, “Friends we have to move. Our enemies are not giving up, but have found the way down. They will be on us in a few minutes.”
“That Bigelow never gives up. Lead on Hanomer,” said Al. “Take us down to the next terrace as quickly as possible.”