The Hidden City

you’re ready.’
    Khalad held the point of his crossbow bolt in the candle-flame, turning it slowly to make certain that the oily rag was evenly ablaze. Then he set the burning bolt in place, laid the forestock of his crossbow on a rock, and took careful aim. ‘Here goes,’ he said, slowly pressing the lever. The crossbow gave a ringing thud, and the burning arrow streaked through the darkness and disappeared into the narrow cave mouth.
    ‘So much for your good working theory,’ Berit said sardonically.
    Nothing happened.
    Khalad swore, banging his fist on the gravel. ‘It has to work, Berit. I did everything exactly—’
    The sound was beyond noise when the hill exploded, and a ball of fire hundreds of feet across seethed skyward out of the crater that had suddenly replaced the hill. Without thinking, Khalad threw himself across Berit’s head, covering the back of his own neck with his hands. Fortunately, what fell on them was small gravel for the most part. The larger rocks fell much further out into the desert. It continued to rain gravel for several minutes, and the two young men, battered and shaken, lay tensely clenched, endurIng the cataclysmic results of Khalad’s experiment. Gradually, the stinging rain subsided.
    ‘You idiot!’ Berit screamed. ‘You could have killed us both.’
    ‘I must have miscalculated just a little,’ Khalad conceded, shaking the dirt out of his hair. ‘I’ll have to work on it a bit before we try it again.’
    ‘Try it again? What are you talking about?’
    ‘It does work, Berit,’ Khalad said in his most reasonable tone of voice. ‘All I have to do is fine-tune it a little bit. Every experiment’s got a few rough places around the edges.’ He stood up, thumping the side of his head with the heel of his hand to shake the ringing out of his ears. ‘I’ll get it perfected, my lord,’ he promised, helping Berit to his feet. ‘The next time won’t be nearly so bad. Now, why don’t you ask Aphrael to take us back to camp? We’re probably being watched, so let’s not arouse any suspicions.’

Chapter 28
    ‘We’re inside the city, Aphrael,’ Sparhawk announced silently after he had cast the spell.
    ‘How did you manage that?’ She sounded surprised.
    ‘It’s a long story. Tell Khalad that I’ve marked the passageway that leads into the valley. He’ll know what to look for.’
    ‘Have you found out where they’re keeping Mother yet?’
    ‘Speculatively.’
    There was a long pause. ‘I’d better come there,’ she decided.
    ‘How will you find us?’
    ‘I’ll use you as a beacon. Just keep talking to me.’
    ‘I don’t think it’s a good idea. We’re right in Cyrgon’s lap here. Won’t he be able to sense you?’
    ‘Xanetia’s there, isn’t she?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Then Cyrgon won’t feel a thing. That’s why I sent her along. She paused again. ‘Who came up with a way to get you inside the city?’
    ‘It was Talen’s idea.’
    ‘You see? And you wanted to argue with me about taking him with you. When will you learn to trust me, Father? Keep talking. I’ve almost got you located. Tell me how Talen managed to get you inside the walls of Cyrga.’
    He described the subterfuge at some length.
    ‘All right,’ she said from just behind him. ‘That’s enough. I get the general drift.’ He turned and saw her in Xanetia’s arms.
    She looked around. ‘I see that the Cyrgai haven’t discovered fire yet. It’s darker than the inside of an old boot here. Exactly where are we?’
    ‘In the outer city, Divine One,’ Bevier said softly. ‘I suppose you could call it the commercial district. The slave-pens are here and various warehouses. It’s guarded by Cynesgans and they’re not particularly alert.’
    ‘Good. Let’s get out of the street.’
    Talen groped his way along one of the barn-like storehouses until he found a door. ‘Over here,’ he whispered.
    ‘Isn’t it locked?’ Kalten asked.
    ‘Not any more.’
    They joined him and went inside.
    ‘Would you mind, dear?’ Aphrael asked Xanetia. ‘I can’t see a thing in this place.’
    Xanetia’s face began to glow, a soft light that faintly illumimated the area around them.
    ‘What do they keep in here?’ Kalten asked, peering into the dimness. ‘Food maybe?’ His tone was hopeful. ‘That slop they fed us in the slave-pens wasn’t very filling.’
    ‘I don’t think it’s a food warehouse,’ Talen told him. ‘It doesn’t smell quite right.’
    ‘You can go