“A what?”
“An order from some Old One or adept. Perhaps it lies in the heart of that stone you wear. That you must obey now that it is set upon you.”
Wittle laughed unpleasantly. “Think you that you can wear a stone of power and escape the payment it calls from its wearer? You are set upon this path now whether you will or not.”
It seemed to Kelsie then that this whole venture had been imposed on her even before the jewel of the dying witch had come into her life.
“I’m not one of you,” she protested. “Why must I be drawn into this?” It was a question that she might have asked hours earlier but it was not until the coming of Yonan that some bit of reality had broken into that drive which had held her.
“You have no choice,” Wittle turned and walked a step or so away to settle once more on the sand, her back to them, plainly preparing to return to the sleep from which Yonan had awakened her. Kelsie looked to the young man.
“I do not choose—” she began when he shook his head.
“Lady, in this land our choices are limited. I, myself, have walked strange ways because I was caught up in something which was stronger than any will of mine. This is a haunted place and what haunts it are bits and pieces of old struggles and old commands, which, once voiced, still hold. We have held against the Dark for many seasons now hut there have always been rumors that inland,” he pointed with his chin upriver as he still held his sword in his two hands, “there are pockets of ancient power which are neither allied with the Dark nor with the Light. If such can he found, and what you wear is indeed a key to it or them, then there is purpose in what we do here.”
“Purpose but not choice!” she said bitterly. Her failure to touch the sword had given her a shock which had somehow awakened her out of the bemused state which she now recognized must have encompassed her since they left the Valley.
“Purpose but no choice,” he agreed quietly. “Now, will you rest, Lady, this is the last night of the full moon and alter that we shall move by day. And how far we travel, who can tell?”
Feeling was returning to her hand as she rubbed it vigorously. She wanted to argue but his complete acceptance of what seemed to have happened to her made her believe there would be no profit in that. She sought out her own bed in the sand and pillowing her head on her pack allowed herself to relax. She had not really expected sleep but it came and quickly.
She roused when an ungentle hand was laid on her shoulder and it was to look up into a sky with scudding clouds and the first drops of rain coming with the evening. Wittle stood over her, pack already on her shoulders, a piece of the dried journey cake in her hand.
“Time to go—” the witch said after she swallowed. Her shoes were once more in her belt and she waved toward the water. Yonan stood on the edge of the stream itself, the water curling up as far as his knees.
“We cannot take to this too long,” he commented as Kelsie found her own provisions and chewed at the dry bits which rasped her tongue and gums. “There may have been a hard rain upstream—the water is rising.”
But they 'did begin the night’s trek splashing through the water. While the few drops which had fallen became part of a downpour to soak through Kelsie’s clothing and set her shivering—though neither of her companions seemed to take any notice of the storm.
The night came fast though the clouds were illuminated now and then by flashes of lightning and there was the drumbeat of thunder to follow. The waves of the stream washed Kelsie up to mid-thigh now and she could feel the pull of the current. Once her foot connected painfully with a rock and she might have fallen had not Yonan’s hand caught and held her up.
At length they were driven to the shore and huddled under the wide spreading branches of a willow to put on their foot gear. In the dark of the night and the storm her two companions were only half-seen blots and she wondered how they could keep together and whether it might not do well to stay in the flimsy shelter they had found until the storm passed.
She felt Yonan stir first and then came his low-pitched voice through the clamor of the rain and the stream.
“Do you smell it?”
She obediently sniffed, but all she was aware of was a musty, earthy scent which she vaguely associated with the wet ground. Yonan got to his feet and started away from the water. By the lightning flash she saw the gleam of his sword, drawn and ready in his hand. At the same time the flesh of her upper arm was bruised by a harsh grip of the witch seeming intent on holding her where she was.
There was a sound like a shout cut in half and Yonan disappeared into the ground. Kelsie broke away from the witch and ran forward only to have her feet swept from under her and feel herself falling. She thought she screamed ami the jewel at her breast burst into a strong light as she landed, knocking Yonan face down into wet earth which was all about them. There was truly a stench here, one she had smelled before.
Thas! They had fallen into one of the underground ways ol those dark dwellers. Wittle made no such mistake as Kelsie’s and she did not join them in their tangle of arms and legs. By the time they had regained their feet in the hole one whole side of mudlike, noisome sledge fell in upon them, sending them to their knees again and nearly burying them.
Kelsie strove to escape when, out of the deeper dark which marked that part of the tunnel which had survived the cave-in there snaked a thick length of what seemed a root and it settled about her drawing tight enough to make her gasp as it pinned her arms to her body.
8
Another coarse-skinned line struck about her hips and in a moment all her struggling could not move her, except as her bonds wished, and she was being drawn straight to the shadowed side of the pit where there was an opening. By the floundering noises which she heard, Yonan was faring little, if any, better.
On her breast the jewel glowed, and she caught a faint glimmer ahead which might mark the power inset on Yonan’s sword hilt. By the light she herself carried she could see now that what held her in bondage looked to be two thick roots. Yet they had the mobility of serpents and by these she was being pulled roughly along, bumped from wall to wall, down a passage intended for creatures smaller than herself. Dank earth smeared her all over and she was spitting to clear it from her mouth.
Also the scent which thickened the air was stomach churning and Kelsie had to battle the nausea which arose to choke her throat. She judged from sounds that Yonan was being forced along behind her as she heard exclamations of disgust and anger.
It seemed to her that that passage lasted at least an hour or more—though it could not have in truth. Then she was jerked like a cork out of a bottle into a place where there was a ghastly phosphorescent light, such as might come from something rotten, proceeding from the tops of crooked stakes set up in a square. Into this trap the ropes snapped her and a moment later she was bowled over by Yonan landing hard against her as her bonds withdrew and his followed.
There was a crunching sound. A rock taller and wider than her own body had fallen to close the gap in the cold fire of the palings around them. Yonan was already on his feet and facing that doorway.
The tops of the palings, where that weird light gleamed, were well above her head as she got to her feet. There the light gathered into an unwholesome mist which hid from sight what might lie directly over them. She crossed her arms, rubbing the bruises near her shoulders where the ropes had cut the hardest. There seemed to be scratches there which smarted under her touch as if the rough surface of the rope had rubbed the skin bare. Yonan, because of his mail, must have fared much better.
He had given but a short inspection to the stone which served as a door and was now prowling along the side of the square, sword out and ready as if he expected some instant move against them. At length he aimed at a crack between two of the palings and levered but the steel made no impression on the giant fence.