Before Agis could object, the king reached out and smashed his fist through the center of the cover. It shattered into dozens of fragments that fell into the pit, leaving only a few jagged bits sticking out from the sides. The noble cringed, trying not to think of what the falling pieces might do to Fylo.
Mag’r peered down into the hole, then said, “I see him.”
Agis looked over the edge. For a moment all he could see were beads of sweat dripping off his brow and plummeting into the darkness, then his eyes grew accustomed to the lack of light and he saw Fylo, still lying impaled on the crystal. The half-breed’s free arm and his legs were dangling down into the pit, while his eyes were closed and his chin lay slumped onto his chest. Although he had suffered several gashes from falling shards of crystal, none of the cuts were bleeding very badly.
“You’ll have to go down and pull him out,” said Agis.
Mag’r frowned at this idea, then shouted, “Hey, you!”
Several yellowed skulls fell from their perches and bounced off Fylo’s torso, and the half-breed opened his eyes. He looked toward the top of the pit, his gaze cloudy and unfocused. “Agis?” he called.
“The Sachem of the Joorsh is coming down to get you,” the noble replied. When Mag’r frowned at him, Agis added, “Go on-can’t you see that he needs help?”
Grumbling angrily, the Joorsh king dropped his captive. When Agis hit the ground his knees buckled, and he tumbled end over end, landing next to one of the jagged shards of crystal still protruding from the edge of the pit. Tithian’s satchel fell at his side.
In front of the satchel’s mouth, a tiny area of the broken lid began to clear, shimmering with a strange, mystic power. For a moment, the noble simply watched the limpid area expand and grow more translucent. Then he realized what was happening. The magic of the Dark Lens was flowing into the crystal shard, and it could only be coming from one place: the satchel.
As Mag’r started to climb down into the pit, Agis grabbed the sack and pulled it back. He folded the top over and crawled away from the edge of the hole. The motion attracted the sachem’s attention, and the giant promptly climbed back out.
“What’s wrong?” Agis asked, rising and moving away from the shard into which the magic of the lens had spilled.
“I’m no fool,” the giant replied, grabbing the noble. He went over to the footing of Sa’ram’s Bridge and pointed to the rope which Kester had left tied there. “Tie your feet together,” he ordered, glancing at the highest point of the bridge. “And make the knot strong, or you’ll be sorry.”
“You don’t have to do this,” Agis objected. As he spoke, he carefully tucked the satchel into his sling, knowing that even Mag’r was not a big enough fool to let a prisoner roam free. “I promise-”
“Tie!” Mag’r growled.
Agis did as he was ordered, once again using the Way to animate his broken arm, testing the knot several times to make sure it was secure. When he was finished, a fair length of rope remained.
Mag’r used some of the extra line to bind the noble’s arms to his sides. Once the king was satisfied that his prisoner could not easily slip his bonds, he carried Agis over to the bridge and tied the other end of the rope to the railing, leaving the noble suspended over the pit.
“Now I can watch you while I rescue your friend,” the sachem said, chuckling at his cleverness.
With that, Mag’r returned to the edge of the pit and began his descent, knocking more than one skull off the sharp crystals lining the pit. As Agis waited, his broken arm began to throb, and the ache caused him to sweat more profusely. Every few seconds a few beads of perspiration would roll off his brow and vanish into the abyss below. The noble did not mind, considering a little pain and a few ounces of body water a small price to pay for having discovered the location of the Dark Lens-and probably of Tithian, as well.
When the sachem reached his destination, he grabbed the half-breed’s arm and pulled him roughly off the crystal. Fylo cried out in pain and glanced up at Agis. A thankful smile creased his lips, then he closed his eyes and slumped into Mag’r’s arms. “Stupid giant!” the sachem cursed.
With that, the sachem laboriously ascended the pit again, dragging Fylo’s unconscious body up behind him. The sharp crystals scraped over the half-breed’s gravelly hide, opening tiny scratches that did nothing to rouse him. Once Mag’r reached the top, he pulled the half-breed out of the hole and laid him aside.
“Where’s the Oracle?” he asked, looking up at Agis.
Agis briefly considered trying to talk the giant into letting him borrow the lens for the purpose of killing Borys, but he quickly rejected the idea. Even if Mag’r were disposed to make such an agreement, which seemed doubtful in the first place, the sachem had shown no inclination that he would be willing to trust the noble.
Mag’r rose. “If you break your word, I’ll-”
“I have no intention of breaking my word,” Agis interrupted. “But I didn’t say I knew the Oracle’s location. I promised to tell you what I knew about its connection to the satchel that Beort found,” Agis finished, being careful to remind Mag’r of exactly what he had said. “You’ll have to figure the rest out for yourself.”
Mag’r scowled, then nudged Fylo toward the pit. “Tell me what you know-now!”
“The satchel belongs to my companion, Tithian,” said the noble. “Because of where we found it, we can assume he found the Oracle.”
“Where’d he go?” the giant demanded.
“As I said, you’ll have to figure that out for yourself,” Agis replied. He did not feel honor-bound to give a more direct answer, since he had not known the information when Mag’r had plucked him from the fissure-and certainly would not have agreed to reveal it if he had.
The sachem started to nudge Fylo toward the pit again. “Tell me!”
“Don’t hurt him!” Agis said. “I’m not certain, but I suspect you’ve been closer to the Oracle than you think.”
“Down there?” Mag’r asked, pointing at the pit.
When the noble did not answer, Mag’r knelt at the edge of the pit. “Perhaps Nal had nothing to do with your friend’s injury,” the giant suggested. “Perhaps your friend was trying to hide something when he fell?”
The sachem peered into the darkness for several moments, and at first Agis could not think of what he expected to see in the murk. Then he remembered how, as Beort had come crawling down the mica tunnel, the youthful giant had called out that he could see a red glow coming from the chamber.
Agis waited until a few drops of perspiration had gathered on his brow, then closed his eyes and visualized the beads slowly beginning to glow with a red light. He felt the tingle of spiritual energy rising from deep within himself-and remembered something else about the exchange between Beort and Mag’r. The moment the youthful giant had described the glow as bright, the sachem had realized that something was wrong.
After softening the red glow in his mind, Agis shook his head to release the beads of sweat on his brow. They plunged into the pit, and as they passed into its black depths, they began to flicker with a scarlet light so faint it was almost imperceptible.
Without a word, Mag’r clambered into the pit and began to climb down. Agis waited until the sachem had descended past the narrow neck where Fylo had been impaled, then began twisting his good arm back and forth within its rope bonds. He managed to open up enough space to twist his hand around and grab Tithian’s satchel.
Pausing just long enough to make sure he had a secure grip, Agis pointed the mouth of the sack at one of the crystal shards still protruding from the side of the pit. A faint stream of glimmering energy poured out of the sack. As soon as it touched its target, the milky color faded from the crystal. The shard slowly expanded along the rim of the pit, its limpid edges reaching out to connect with the adjacent pieces.