moment.”
“Aye,” said Caina. “Morgant’s got his ring, and they can’t sense me. I thought your pyrikon could shield you from their senses…”
“It can,” said Annarah.
“But to do that,” said Caina, “you’ll have to drop the ward.”
“I can raise it again in a few minutes,” said Annarah, “but by then, they will have swarmed into this chamber.”
“Yes,” said Caina, looking around. “But they can’t sense us, and I can only see baboons in the hall. None of the undead warriors with the seeing spells on their helmets.”
“Where did they go?” said Annarah.
“An excellent question,” said Morgant. “It appears they wandered off.” He thought that suspicious. Those undead warriors were the most powerful fighters on Pyramid Isle. So why had they left Morgant and Caina and Annarah unattended? It did not make sense.
“The nagataaru have trouble perceiving the physical world when they do not possess a host with functional eyesight,” said Caina, “and the baboons are just rotting shells.”
She took a few quick steps back, looking around, her gaze sweeping the ceiling. Morgant had to admit the ceiling was aesthetically pleasing, adorned with patterned constellations in the stylized Maatish style. He did not see anything useful, though.
“There,” said Caina, pointing at the wall.
Morgant considered the wall. “You want us to stand on the spears?” Bronze spears, their blades no doubt protected from corrosion by spells, stood in niches along the walls. A flat ledge ran along the wall, perhaps a dozen feet off the floor.
“No,” said Caina. “We’ll remove the spears and stand up there.”
Morgant grunted. “You think that will work?”
“People never look up,” said Caina. “Have you noticed that? The nagataaru have trouble perceiving the physical world in three dimensions. If people never look up, do you think the nagataaru will?”
That…actually made sense, come to think of it. At least, Morgant couldn’t think of anything better.
“So once we’re up there,” said Morgant, “what then?”
“The nagataaru will search for us,” said Caina. “When they don’t find us, they’ll assume we slipped past them somehow. So they’ll search for us, and if we’re careful, we can slip past them and make our way to the exit.”
“I do not see any other option,” said Annarah. “Even with your new valikon and the Words of Lore, we cannot fight our way past so many nagataaru.”
Morgant shrugged. “Well, why not? If we die, at least we’ll die while looking ridiculous.”
“Yes,” said Caina. “I’m sure the real tragedy will be that you won’t get to paint a picture of our deaths. Come on, help me get these spears down.”
###
A short time later Caina braced herself on the narrow ledge. There was just enough room to get her feet settled, and if she stood motionless, she could keep her balance without too much difficulty. Morgant made it up to the ledge with catlike grace, and Caina suspected that he had spent a great deal of time skulking along rooftops and ledges, just as she had. Annarah had a harder time, but she did not flinch from the effort, and once Caina and Morgant got her to the ledge, she braced herself against the wall, her pyrikon clinking against the stone.
“Thank you,” said Annarah. “I’m afraid the training of initiates in the Towers of Lore did not include much wall-climbing.”
“Pity, that,” said Caina, watching the undead baboons behind the ward. So far they had not moved, nor given any sign that they noticed the activity in the armory. “I suppose it doesn’t come up too often. It…”
Annarah was staring at her.
“What?” said Caina. “What is it?”
“Your shadow,” whispered Annarah.
Caina blinked and looked over her shoulder. Her shadow-cloak still hung around her, and she threw a ragged shadow against the hieroglyph-carved wall, thanks to the glow from Annarah’s pyrikon
“Aye,” said Caina. “Morgant’s got his ring, and they can’t sense me. I thought your pyrikon could shield you from their senses…”
“It can,” said Annarah.
“But to do that,” said Caina, “you’ll have to drop the ward.”
“I can raise it again in a few minutes,” said Annarah, “but by then, they will have swarmed into this chamber.”
“Yes,” said Caina, looking around. “But they can’t sense us, and I can only see baboons in the hall. None of the undead warriors with the seeing spells on their helmets.”
“Where did they go?” said Annarah.
“An excellent question,” said Morgant. “It appears they wandered off.” He thought that suspicious. Those undead warriors were the most powerful fighters on Pyramid Isle. So why had they left Morgant and Caina and Annarah unattended? It did not make sense.
“The nagataaru have trouble perceiving the physical world when they do not possess a host with functional eyesight,” said Caina, “and the baboons are just rotting shells.”
She took a few quick steps back, looking around, her gaze sweeping the ceiling. Morgant had to admit the ceiling was aesthetically pleasing, adorned with patterned constellations in the stylized Maatish style. He did not see anything useful, though.
“There,” said Caina, pointing at the wall.
Morgant considered the wall. “You want us to stand on the spears?” Bronze spears, their blades no doubt protected from corrosion by spells, stood in niches along the walls. A flat ledge ran along the wall, perhaps a dozen feet off the floor.
“No,” said Caina. “We’ll remove the spears and stand up there.”
Morgant grunted. “You think that will work?”
“People never look up,” said Caina. “Have you noticed that? The nagataaru have trouble perceiving the physical world in three dimensions. If people never look up, do you think the nagataaru will?”
That…actually made sense, come to think of it. At least, Morgant couldn’t think of anything better.
“So once we’re up there,” said Morgant, “what then?”
“The nagataaru will search for us,” said Caina. “When they don’t find us, they’ll assume we slipped past them somehow. So they’ll search for us, and if we’re careful, we can slip past them and make our way to the exit.”
“I do not see any other option,” said Annarah. “Even with your new valikon and the Words of Lore, we cannot fight our way past so many nagataaru.”
Morgant shrugged. “Well, why not? If we die, at least we’ll die while looking ridiculous.”
“Yes,” said Caina. “I’m sure the real tragedy will be that you won’t get to paint a picture of our deaths. Come on, help me get these spears down.”
###
A short time later Caina braced herself on the narrow ledge. There was just enough room to get her feet settled, and if she stood motionless, she could keep her balance without too much difficulty. Morgant made it up to the ledge with catlike grace, and Caina suspected that he had spent a great deal of time skulking along rooftops and ledges, just as she had. Annarah had a harder time, but she did not flinch from the effort, and once Caina and Morgant got her to the ledge, she braced herself against the wall, her pyrikon clinking against the stone.
“Thank you,” said Annarah. “I’m afraid the training of initiates in the Towers of Lore did not include much wall-climbing.”
“Pity, that,” said Caina, watching the undead baboons behind the ward. So far they had not moved, nor given any sign that they noticed the activity in the armory. “I suppose it doesn’t come up too often. It…”
Annarah was staring at her.
“What?” said Caina. “What is it?”
“Your shadow,” whispered Annarah.
Caina blinked and looked over her shoulder. Her shadow-cloak still hung around her, and she threw a ragged shadow against the hieroglyph-carved wall, thanks to the glow from Annarah’s pyrikon
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