80AD The Yu Dragon (Bk5)

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER TWO

Jade awoke feeling distinctly unwell and extremely uncomfortable. Wisely, she kept her eyes closed for a few moments to get her bearings. She had no patience with people in movies who, on getting kidnapped, immediately gave away their wakeful state and started to ask stupid questions like “where am I?” and “who are you?”. No self-respecting kidnapper would tell their victim that sort of information. Plus, if you’re going to escape, letting the badguys know you’re awake is just plain dumb.

So she lay still for awhile, listening, feeling, trying to work out where Yajat had brought her and whether he was still nearby.

She lay on her side, with her wrists and ankles bound. Her head rested on cold, unforgiving, hard stone. No light penetrated her eyelids, so it was either night time, or the room was dark. With each breath, she smelled dampness, death and decay. A faint trickle of water somewhere nearby made her both incredibly thirsty and desperate to go to the bathroom. There were no other sounds at all. Her ears rang with the silence.

Emboldened, she opened her eyes. It made little difference. A dim square of light in one section of her vision revealed at least one window but it was too dark to see outside. With a suppressed groan, she wriggled and squirmed until she could sit up. Shuffling backward, she eventually hit a stone wall and stopped.

A dungeon then, she realised. Hard on that thought followed a flicker of black humour: that brought her one imprisonment closer to Brynn and Phoenix’s totals of what, six or seven now? Amusement fled as the reality of her situation sank in. Alone, captured, bound by iron chains that burnt her skin like fire; she felt weak, tired, hungry and scared. She’d lost count of how many lives she had left but it couldn’t be more than two or three at the most. Now, worst of all, she was separated from her friends.

Leaning her back against the damp wall, Jade finally allowed herself to succumb to the emotion that swelled in her throat. With a quiet sob, she dropped her head onto her knees and cried.

It felt good.

She’d had never been the type to cry for long – it didn’t solve anything and got little sympathy in a big family – so she soon gave up and wiped her face on her sleeve. The chains around her wrists clanked. She pulled at them experimentally but only succeeded in burning the palms of her hands on the hot-cold iron. At least someone had wrapped her wrists in cloth first, so her skin wasn’t blistering. With a deep, determined breath, she got control of her emotions, leaned her head against the wall and tried to work out how she’d got into this stupid situation. Maybe that would give her an idea for getting out.

The last thing she remembered was Yajat materialising out of the darkness in the temple grounds in Pune in India. Phoenix had been about to activate the portal that would take them all to China for Level Five of this damnable game. Instead, Yajat had appeared, thrown a thin iron chain around her neck and arms and dragged her through the portal with him.

She had a vague impression of some sort of explosion then nothing. This was 80AD. How could there be explosives? Had her friends been hurt? Was she hurt? Jade sniffed again and focussed on the last two questions. A quick assessment of her body showed no injuries, just a few bruises and general weakness that nothing but time, food, sleep and her herbs would fix.

Next she concentrated on the Binding Spell she’d put into place in Albion. The iron chains around her wrists and ankles muffled her Elven abilities but, through the fog of weakness and iron, Jade faintly sensed the unbroken Binding. With a sigh of utter relief, she slumped back against the wall. If the Binding remained whole then the others were still alive. She didn’t have the power to find them yet but at least they were alive and would come for her – eventually.

In the mean time, she should take stock of whatever tools she still had and try to escape this dungeon. She slid one manacled hand across her chest, patting at her clothes, wincing as the chain scorched exposed skin with each movement. Knife: obviously gone. Staff: gone. Amulet: still around her neck.

Relief flashed through her. Her link to the real world was there. The jade and pearl yin-yang ring Cadoc had given her was still on her right hand, too, but that was of little importance. Just one more thing… Her fingers darted in and out of her shirt as a horrible, sinking feeling took over.

Gone. The Hyllion Bagia. The bottomless black hole bag that held anything and everything without getting bigger or heavier; gone. It held not only weapons, money and spare clothing but also the Horn of Aurfanon. As long as she had the Bag and the Horn, Jade had had hope.

Without the Horn, there was no way of summoning help; there were no hidden weapons; no money to bribe her way free. Nothing. Even worse, Zhudai now held a valuable magical object in his possession; one that could give him enormous power if he worked out how to use it.

Misery descended and tears once more welled in her eyes. What was she supposed to do now? No weapons, no bag, no friends. She missed Marcus’ solid reliability, Phoenix’s impetuous strength, Brynn’s sly comments and cheeky grin.

Brynn! Jade sat up abruptly, eyes wide in the darkness. Frowning, she replayed the last day or so in her head. Yes… yes! The Bag wasn’t lost at all. She’d given it to Brynn during the height of the war in India. He had kept it with him after he’d blown the Horn to summon Garuda to their rescue. She sagged against the wall. OK. So she didn’t have the Bag but at least their arch enemy didn’t have it, either. That was something, anyway.

With her heart lightened a little, Jade took more of an interest in her prison. Using the wall, she managed to shove herself upright, though every muscle protested. The thin iron chains dragged strength from her very core. She clenched her teeth against pain and weakness with every step. Hands outstretched in the darkness, she moved cautiously toward the small, dim square of light in the distance.

Before she reached it, a flickering, orange glow told her someone approached. Quickly, she backed away until she was once more up against the cold, damp stone wall. Ignoring the pain, she twisted the iron chain between her hands like a garrotte, although she had little hope of being able to use it effectively in her weakened state.

The door creaked cautiously open and golden shadows flickered into the dark cell. A small, elderly Chinese man smiled at her and bobbed his head in a series of small bows. Behind him stood a taller, younger man with the muscles and deadpan expression of a soldier or bodyguard.

“Come, come.” The old man gestured at Jade. “The master wishes to see you but first you must bathe and rest. He sends his apologies for the poor accommodation you have been put into. His servant misunderstood his instructions. You are our guest, not our prisoner.” The wrinkled face screwed up in distaste as he eyed her cell. He smiled.

Jade glared at him in extreme mistrust. It could be a trick but what need was there for tricks when Zhudai already held her prisoner? Was it possible that there had been a mistake? That she wasn’t meant to be imprisoned? It made no sense.

The man nodded eagerly. “Come. You will not be harmed. Come. There is food and drink waiting for you in your proper quarters and those chains will be removed.” He held out a hand toward Jade, dark eyes crinkled at the edges as his smile broadened.

She weighed up the pros and cons rapidly. Chains gone, food, drink, bath, rest against deprivation, damp, cold, iron chains and stone walls. No contest. Even if it was some sort of trick, at least if the chains came off there was some chance she could escape.

Nibbling at her bottom lip, Jade followed the old man out of her cell toward the hope of freedom.

*****

Phoenix swam up from the blood-red depths of hell, back to the hellish world of consciousness. For a bizarre fraction of a second, he thought he heard his mother’s voice, thought he smelled a strange, harsh, chemical scent. Then it faded. He opened his eyes and blinked blearily.

Marcus knelt over him, looking faintly worried. Behind him stood Brynn, apparently about to be stabbed by Vasi. Or maybe Brynn was holding Vasi back from stabbing Marcus. Yes, that made more sense. After all, Phoenix had wanted to stab the Roman, so why wouldn’t Vasi? Part of him realised that was very fuzzy logic indeed and he wasn’t yet thinking clearly, so he concentrated on waking up.

The Indian Prince caught sight of Phoenix’s face and his jaw dropped, followed by his arm.

“What?” Vasi stumbled back, his expression horrified.

Brynn followed, murmuring some explanation of Phoenix’s miraculous return to life that must have soothed their friends’ fears somehow. Vasi sat down on a log and gaped at Phoenix.

Phoenix switched back to Marcus and found the Roman watching him.

“Are you well?” Marcus asked in a low, tense voice.

Memory of the fight, his hatred, his determination to kill Marcus, flowed back into Phoenix’s now-clear mind. He groaned. With an oath, he sat up, grabbed at his knife and checked the life-rubies on the hilt. Sure enough, one more of the seven he’d started this game with glinted dull and broken. He had just three red stones left intact.

“You…you killed me, Marcus.” He fingered the ragged, bloody tear in his shirt. “You deliberately goaded me on and…and you killed me.” Confused and hurt, he looked at the palm of his left hand. It was blank. “But...I don’t understand.”

Marcus gripped the hand with his own and squeezed. “There was no betrayal intended, my friend, so Jade’s Binding Spell remains unbroken. We are still bound, the four of us, on this quest to kill Feng Zhudai. Yes, four of us.” He nodded as Phoenix stared at him dazedly. “If you’d stopped to think, you’d know that Jade can’t be dead if the Binding is whole.”

Phoenix groaned and closed his eyes. “I’m an idiot.”

“Only sometimes - when you let your anger and grief control you.” Marcus smiled, standing up. “Now if you’re finished being one, we can get on with our rescue mission.”

Unthinking, Phoenix put his right hand down to push himself off the ground. Only as he brushed dust off his pants did he realise his broken arm no longer hurt. He looked at it in surprise, unwinding the rough cloth that held the splint in place. Flexing his fingers, he prodded the bone.

“It’s healed!” He blinked at Marcus.

The Roman nodded. “I thought so.”

“Bit of a drastic way of fixing a broken arm, isn’t it?”

Marcus shrugged, handing him a water skin. “We need your sword arm and clear head if we’re going to find Jade and defeat Zhudai. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

Phoenix choked on the swallow of water he’d just tipped into his mouth. “A good idea? I could have killed you, and then where would we have been?”

Marcus raised an eyebrow at him. “I was never in danger.”

Phoenix opened his mouth, and shut it again. Even through the hazy, blood-red memories of the fight, he realised Marcus was right. The Roman had been cool and controlled throughout the fight, acting fearful for Phoenix’s maddened benefit only. Phoenix, on the other hand, actually fought worse under the arcane influence of the sword, than when he thought straight. Twice now, Marcus mastered him when he’d given in to Blódbál’s insidious song.

Frowning, Phoenix picked up the sword and turned it over in his hands. It hummed a smug, satisfied little tune in his head. He eyed Marcus. The Roman returned his look without expression. Phoenix sighed and slid the blade back into its sheath.

“I’m not sure whether I should thank you, hit you or apologise.” He clapped Marcus on the shoulder.

“We should water the horses and keep moving,” his friend replied, unfazed.

A short while later, as the mountain-shadows began to stretch far out across the plains behind, Vasi turned the group north, off the main path, onto a narrower one. With the refugees left behind, the travellers moved faster. The track wound precariously along ridge-crests, deeper into the mountains.

Just as jagged teeth of the mountain peaks ahead began to nibble at the edges of the sun, the path levelled out and they saw a deep-set curve in the vegetated hillside. Amongst the lush trees and vines, a cliff of bare, exposed volcanic rock came into view. Sheer and vertical it was punctured by regular, and obviously man-made, holes in the dark face. The sounds of hammer and chisel echoed down into the valley below.

Vasi drew rein. “The Caves of Karla.” He waved a hand. “Inside you will find only a few Buddhist monks and craftsmen who work on construction of the many temples. If this ‘portal’ you speak of is in there, I do not know where it is. I’ve been here only once, as a boy.”

“Aren’t you coming in with us?” Phoenix peered at the blank, black cave-mouths. Memories of the Naga shivered down his spine.

“I must return to my father.” Vasi shook his head. “This war has left our kingdom in chaos and, with the death of my brother, I am now heir. I cannot be away long or my father will be uneasy. These are a peaceful people. You will be safe.”

Marcus pushed forward and reached out to grip the Prince’s arm. “We are deeply grateful for your help in getting us here. May the gods protect you.”

Vasi bowed his head regally. “And all of you, my friends.” He released Marcus and took Phoenix’s proffered hand. “If…when you find Jade, please tell her I…wish... I…would like…” The young prince flushed in the dwindling light.

Phoenix grinned at his discomfort. “I get it. I’ll tell her. She has that affect on men, I’ve noticed. But you do know we aren’t coming back this way? If our final Quest is successful then we’ll be going home to our own land and we’ll never see you again.”

Behind, Phoenix heard Brynn’s soft, sharp intake of breath and cursed his own stupidity. He’d forgotten that they’d never actually discussed the end of this game-play with Brynn. Oh, they’d mentioned ‘going home’ offhandedly but never really bluntly stated that they’d never be seeing friends again. Now he’d let the cat out of the bag and there was no Jade to smooth over his thoughtlessness.

Unaware of the blunder, Vasi grimaced. “I feared as much but who knows – stranger things have happened than old friends reuniting.”

“In this world, you have no idea how much stranger,” Phoenix murmured as he released his hand, waved and kicked his horse into a weary walk.

Vasi and his servant turned and began their long trek home, leaving the three companions to forge ahead alone.

An awkward silence fell between the friends as they approached the entrance to the Karla Caves.

“Are you really going away if we kill Zhudai?” Brynn sounded young and unsure.

Phoenix sighed and nudged his horse over to walk beside the boy’s. “I’m sorry, Brynn. We should have made it clear to you earlier. You know we came to this world by accident. Our goal is to get home to our own lives and families in our own world by completing all the Quests we’ve been set. I’m sorry.” He glanced at Marcus but the Roman boy’s face remained blank, his gaze stoically ahead.

Brynn turned his face away and scrubbed at his cheeks. Phoenix laid a hand on his thin shoulder and squeezed it, not knowing what to say. The boy shrugged it off.

“You ok?” Phoenix asked hesitantly.

“I’m fine.” Brynn hunched a shoulder. “I was fine before you two arrived. I’ll be fine when you’re gone. I can look after myself. Have done for awhile now, in case you’d forgotten.” He sent Phoenix a scathing look and kicked his pony so it trotted ahead a little.

Marcus came alongside. “I’ll look after him.” His eyes were on Brynn’s stiff back.

“Thanks.” Phoenix’s throat was tight. There was so much more to be said but he couldn’t say any of it. Where was Jade when he needed someone good with words and people?

The thought of her pulled his mind back to where it should be. As much as he liked Marcus and Brynn, he had to remember that he and Jade didn’t belong in their world. The problem was, if he couldn’t find and rescue Jade quickly, they may end up belonging here whether they wanted it or not. A sense of urgency in his gut told him time was running out - and quickly.

A minute later, all thoughts of his home vanished as Phoenix and his friends rounded the last corner and saw Karla Caves in all its glory. Half-lit by the last shafts of sunset, the caves cut into the volcanic cliffs took his breath away with their magnificence and sheer scope.

All around lay the evidence of hard work over many years. High in the curving black wall, narrow steps lead to long, low cave entrances, split by carved pillars left to hold the roof up. Down these stairs hurried dozens of monks, clad in flowing orange robes. In the centre of the cliff, at ground level, gaped an enormous, rectangular cave entrance, flanked by two huge pillars. Atop each, lions stood proud and behind them arched a massive window surrounded by intricate carvings of people, animals and geometric designs.

As the travellers dismounted wearily from their horses, a small group of orange-clad monks emerged from this structure and shuffled toward them. As they approached, they moved apart to reveal a bent and frail old man at the centre. Also wearing faded orange robes and with his head clean-shaven, the wizened monk put his hands together and bowed deeply.

“Namaste. Welcome to our home, Phoenix Carter of Cambridge,” he intoned. “The portal is waiting within. You must hurry. There are only three days until the ri shi and Long Baiyu is weak. Even worse, without your strength, Jade Lockyer is in danger of losing the path.”