The Hammer - Cor Series Book I

Corvan ran up the passage, but Kate was nowhere to be seen.

The toes of the scarecrow’s shoes had separated from the soles, and they gaped at him as if they had something important to say. Just behind the runners was an empty bread bag. He picked it up, and the aroma of oatmeal cookies wafted out, along with a trace of lilac perfume.

His head came up, and he looked intently down the passage. Kate must have just been here. It had been her voice calling out to him when he saw her in the glass.

“Kate!” he shouted, but the only answer was his echo reverberating from the tunnel leading down. Covering the end of the hammer, he stared into the darkness. The rocks along the right side of the passage were reflecting a glow from around the next corner. His first thought was Kate’s flashlight, but the light was a cold, blue color.

Corvan holstered the hammer and crept along the side of the tunnel to keep the larger boulders between himself and the growing light. Feeling his way along the inside wall, he moved slowly past the corner and then approached a lighted gap between two columns of rock. He snuck up behind the right pillar and peered around it. A short distance ahead, a shaft of pale blue light was streaming into the tunnel. Moonlight! He had found another way back to the surface. He had escaped the labyrinth into the buraks cave and had now emerged at the bottom of the river valley.

Corvan’s heart soared as he ran down the path toward the light. Kate was out as well, and they were both safe.

Through the opening, he caught sight of a full moon and a few bright stars. He blinked. What had the fire stick done to his eyes? The moon was completely blue, and the stars in the sky pierced the black night with a pink light.

His pace slowed as he approached the exit. His feet dragged on the sandy floor. This was not an entry to a natural river bottom cave. Just ahead, a uniform arch had been cut into a rock wall. A thick stone door, supported by heavy hinges, hung open to one side.

His eyes fixed passed the opening, Corvan tripped on the threshold of the doorway, caught himself on the door, and pushed it wider. A wave of despair crashed down upon Corvan. Two rows of the strange script from his grandfather’s book were carved across the middle of the door. The vast cave in front of him was more of Tsarek’s Cor. He would have to go through yet another door and follow Kate deeper into the darkness ahead.

He was about to move on when angry voices approached. Somewhere in the darkness, two men were arguing about who had last checked the door. Ducking in behind the thick slab, Corvan wedged his body along the wall. His pack caught on the curved ceiling, crowding his head forward and pushing his face in below the upper hinge. He was looking directly through wide crack. It would be easy for anyone who came close to see him hiding in the shadows.

A short, wiry man entered his field of vision, his face hidden in the hood of his green cloak. Clutched in the man’s hand was a shoulder high staff. At its top was a carved globe with a dark center. He stopped before the door, his head shaking in amazement. “You’re right. The door is open.”

An even shorter, stocky man appeared. A deep voice responded from the depths of his red hood. “I can see that, Tarran, but why is it open? The priests hold the only key, and you are the only priest I know who bothers to come up here.” He folded his arms over his chest.

Tarran threw back his hood revealing the sharp features of a young man with thick black hair and keen gray eyes. “What are you insinuating, Harmon?”

The heavyset man didn’t reply.

Corvan held his breath as Tarran turned away and examined the far side of the door. The very person he was to meet was just a foot away but so was the palace guard Tsarek had warned him about.

Pulling a notched cylinder on a red cord from around his neck, Tarran inserted it into a hole next to the door frame and twisted. Three sturdy bolts clicked out from the doorjamb. When he twisted the key and removed it, the bolts sank back into the rock.

The green cloak swished as Tarran crossed over to inspect the hinge side of the door.

Corvan twisted away to hide his face. His hand touched the hammer and its blue symbols glowed from the bottom of the holster. He yanked his hand away, and the light faded. He looked up into Tarran’s wide eyes.

“Find something?” Harmon asked.

“Just checking the hinges,” Tarran said without breaking eye contact with Corvan. “The door was not forced open.” He gestured with his left hand off to the side. “I have seen all I need to see here. Let’s head back down. You can file a report tomorrow.”

“Too late for that,” Harmon sneered. “I already reported it to the Chief Watcher.”

Tarran’s eyes grew wide, and he whirled about to face the stocky man. “You did what?”

Harmon pointed into the void behind him. “The Chief Watcher is to be informed any time this door is opened. Since it could only be a priest who opened it, I suspected that you wouldn’t tell him and put your friends or your family in jeopardy.”

Tarran pounded his staff on the ground, and the globe was filled with red light. “You’re a fool, Harmon. You know little of what is happening. All you care about is trying to advance your own career.”

“What else is there?” Harmon snorted. “With the bad blood between the Watchers, the priests, and the rebels, this is the perfect time to get on the good side of those who have the most power.”

Tarran pointed the staff at him. “Power is not a toy. Play with power—pay the powerful.”

Harmon shrugged. “You priests and your proverbs. The way you talk, you’d think you were part of the rebels and not for our own city. Don’t think for a moment that the Palace doesn’t know what you and your father are planning.”

Tarran stared at the stocky man. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know that Morgan uncovered a plot to overthrow the Palace, and I know that the sources all point to the High Priest.” Harmon turned his back on Tarran and swaggered away.

Tarran gripped his staff in both hands and took a step toward him.

Harmon whirled around and looked down the narrow path beyond the door. “He’s here,” he whispered in a hoarse voice.

Tarran joined him, and both men stood frozen at attention. Tarran fumbled with the staff, and its light faded away.

In the thick silence, Corvan caught a series of rhythmic chirps that sounded like a quartet of wounded crickets limping in his direction. The soft slap of bare feet on rock soon overpowered the eerie sound, and four incredibly thin men appeared on the path. A palanquin tent with red curtains was slung below poles on their shoulders.

The men’s bare arms seemed too long and slender to be human. Blue veins pulsed under transparent glistening skin, and it reminded Corvan of pictures he’d seen of cave salamanders that live all their lives in total darkness. Deep red robes accentuated their milky white faces.

The tallest one, who was at the front of the poles, turned toward Corvan. Its translucent eyelids were twitching over its seemingly closed eyes. Thin white lips pursed, and a blue tongue worked to produce high-pitched chirps as its head scanned from side to side. The manlike creatures must navigate like bats and find their way using only echoes.

Corvan held his breath, hoping the crack would shield him.

The palanquin’s embroidered red curtains parted, and a dark body oozed to the ground. Corvan stifled a gasp. It was a lizard like Tsarek, but much larger—almost Corvan’s own height. Its head bobbed as a thin tongue whipped in and out, tasting the air that flowed from the cavern’s open door. Powerful biceps strained against twisted silver bracers wrapped around each arm. It moved with measured steps into the doorway. The muscles in its thick legs were bulging and rippling under its scaly black skin, and then it passed from Corvan’s line of sight.

It spoke, and Corvan’s blood ran cold. The voice was high and thin. It pierced through the stone door between them. He did not catch what it said, but Tarran responded affirmatively.

Harmon muttered something, but a command from the lizard silenced him.

Corvan held his breath and heard the hiss of cold breath as the lizard’s snout poked out over the threshold with its nostrils flaring to pull in the scents around it. If it came any closer, it was sure to smell him.

Tarran coughed.

The black creature turned toward him.

“Most honorable Chief Watcher,” Tarran said, “I checked this door personally, and all the seals were intact. I do not know—”

Harmon pushed Tarran aside. “I’m the one who found the door open. I’ve been keeping an eye on the priests for you, just as you ordered me. I’m the one who deserves a reward for—”

A blur shot past the crack, and the black lizard was standing on Harmon’s still body. He held his right paw up to the dim light, and Corvan could see it was badly deformed. There was only one long curved claw on a small, twisted stump. The lizard’s tongue shot out to taste the blood dripping down the long claw. The black face wrinkled in distaste, and he stepped off the body and wiped his claw on the dead man’s cloak. The lizard gave the body a contemptuous kick, then it twisted its sinuous neck to leer at Tarran.

“Some people don’t know when to be quiet, do they? I do not trust those who cannot keep their lips shut.” The creature moved in closer to Tarran. “I also don’t trust a priest who cannot keep his door shut. It smells of treason. Perhaps trying to start a rumor that the Cor-Van has come to overthrow the palace?”

Tarran pointed to the keyhole. “The priest’s key was not used. The door must have been opened from the other side by the Portal Watcher.”

The black body flickered toward Tarran, words spitting past the forked tongue. “If the Portal Watcher had been called, he would have told me. I am the Chief Watcher of the Cor.”

The lizard circled around the man. “Do not think I am unaware of why the High Priest assigned you to represent the temple in my palace guard. He tried the same tactic with Morgan and failed. Morgan was at least smart enough to know when to switch sides. It was not a good outcome for your sister, would you not agree?”

Tarran stiffened but did not answer. The black form turned back to the door. “Someone opened this door without informing me.” The lizard extended a claw toward Tarran. “So, I will take the key.”

Tarran took a step back. “The key is the responsibility of the priests, not the palace.”

“Yessss.” The lizard’s tongue darted in and out. “But only as the guardians of the entry. Now the door has been opened without the palace being informed; therefore, your position as keeper of the key is forfeit to me.”

Tarran gripped the staff in both hands and held it up like a great sword. The four pale men holding the palanquin dropped the canopied box to the ground and spread out behind the lizard. Tightly coiled krypin ropes appeared in their hands.

The Chief Watcher extended his long claw and touched the end of the staff. “Do not resist me, Tarran.” The lizard flicked the staff aside, then he turned his back on the man and walked toward the doorway. “You cannot win.”

Tarran took a step toward the four white creatures, who tensed in anticipation.

“You would be wise to consider joining me, as Morgan has done,” the lizard said without turning around. “The priesthood is dying. My new religion is poised to take over. If you join with me, I will make you my captain instead of Morgan.”

Tarran’s staff sagged, and the tip hit the ground.

The lizard held out his claw again. This time Tarran reached into his cowl and pulled out the cord and the notched cylinder. The Chief Watcher took it and looped it around his own neck.

“A wise choice. You are a perceptive young man. One who could play an important role in restoring the Cor to its former glory.”

The tallest of the men with unseeing eyes approached and bent down to speak in the lizard’s ear. His long fingers were brushing the ground.

The lizard nodded. A tight smile parted his lips. “A company of my men is on their way, Tarran. You have until tomorrow to give me your answer. Think it over carefully,” it hissed. “Your sister’s life depends on it.”

The lizard slipped through the curtains into the palanquin. His voice cracked out a command, and the four men picked up the cabin and disappeared to the right. Their strange chirps soon faded into the distance.

As Tarran watched the entourage leave, Corvan pushed away from the hinges. He had to get some answers from the man who had just saved him from the black lizard.

Twisting around, he pushed on the heavy slab to get out from behind the door.

An earsplitting screech filled the tunnel.

Corvan looked up just in time to see a burak bounding toward Tarran in long loping strides. Its broad shoulder slammed into the door, knocking Corvan flat against the wall and throwing him onto the ground against the bottom hinge.

Tarran cried out and through the crack Corvan saw the huge animal toss the man in the air and catch him in its jaws like a cat playing with a mouse. Tarran’s body flew in a wild arc and landed in a crumpled heap near Corvan.

Terror-filled eyes looked up through the crack. “Help me,” he croaked.

Corvan pushed his legs against the door, but the weight of the creature held the stone slab tight against the wall. He wasn’t strong enough.

Twisting on his side, he pulled the hammer free. Its blue light shot through the crack.

The beast looked into the light, its eyes focused on Corvan, and then its sour breath blasted into his face with a deafening roar. The hinges creaked as the burak forced its snout into the crack. Its shrieks ripped at Corvan’s eardrums. Dropping the hammer, he clenched both hands over his ears. The door banged again, and the horrible shrieks stopped.

Tarran’s bloody face was just beyond the crack.

“Help me, Cor-Van,” Tarran gasped before his pitiful face was dragged away.

The great door boomed as the beast hammered into it. The stone slab bounced away from the wall revealing the burak retreating up the slope with the broken body of Tarran dragging in the dirt alongside it.

Corvan fell to his knees and dropped his head into his hands. His stomach rolled, and he retched. The man who had saved him from being discovered by the black lizard had died because he was too afraid and too weak to help him.

The muted shriek of the burak jerked Corvan’s head up. Tsarek had said they always hunted in pairs, but he had not heard the second one during the attack. He held his breath and listened intently. The cavern was quiet, and nothing moved up the pathway.

Feeling around the floor, he found the hammer lying in a pile of sand next to the wall. The handle was cold, and the light from the symbols was gone. He stuffed it into the holster. He’d rather even have it around to remind him of how he had failed.

After getting slowly to his feet, he found that the great stone door was jammed against Tarran’s staff. Pulling the door back, he picked it up and tapped it on the floor to knock the dirt from the globe at the top. Red light shot out and threw a kaleidoscope of shadowed patterns around the tunnel. More of the same sort of words from the hammer and the door.

A flurry of movement up the pathway caught Corvan’s eye. The other burak had arrived! Leaping over the threshold, Corvan swirled about and yanked the door shut. Three sharp clicks were immediately followed by muffled blows on the other side of the door. Corvan slumped down against it and leaned his head against the cold stone.

High above him, the blue moon shone brightly, but now he could clearly see it was a lumien that was much larger than the one in Tsarek’s cave. Smaller ones were scattered around it were, the pink “stars” he’d seen earlier.

As the blows against the door fell away, Corvan realized he had just locked his only exit out of this violent underground world, and the black lizard had the only key.

Pushing to his feet, he was drawn forward by the sheer size of this new cavern. It was hard to judge distance in the dim light, but it had to be miles to the other side, where there was a brown haze over what appeared to be jagged mountains. He stepped forward for a better look, and his foot slipped. He recovered to find himself on the edge of a precipice that ended in a steep slope hundreds of feet below.

Off to his right, at the bottom of a trail that wound down to the base of the cliff, he caught sight of the tiny figures of the pale men carrying the lizard over a narrow bridge. Beyond the ribbon of dark water was the strangest city he had ever seen. It was laid out in concentric circles from a central plaza. Each circle joined the next at periodic intervals to make the streets look like the web of an immense spider.

A few larger buildings were grouped together near the center of the city, but nowhere could he see a building with a pointy roof. He scanned both sides of the widest street that ran toward the far wall. The left side of the city was in ruins, but the right side looked relatively undamaged. An irregular thick wall ran between them.

The lizard’s pale servants arrived in the central plaza, turned right, and proceeded through a gate in the dividing wall. They marched up a wide street through banks of fog that flowed down from a wide gate.

Corvan looked ahead of the tiny travelers, and his eyes opened wide in amazement. A stone figure sitting on a massive throne rose above the larger buildings. Corvan inched closer to the edge of the cliff, and his eyes wandered over the colossally broad chest. It was a temple of some kind, like the ones for King Ramses and the other pharaohs in Egypt. On top of the wide shoulders was a rough block of stone. The face of the statue was not yet finished.

Corvan’s gaze swept down over a powerful stone bicep overlaid with writhing snakelike creatures. The arm lay on one of the wide armrests of the throne, and its hand was gripping a tall staff like the one Corvan now held.

Below the statue, surrounding the huge stone feet, figures crawled like ants around a circular stone wall. Great stone blocks were being moved into position with cranes and rollers. Hundreds of fire sticks burned around the construction site. They cast their hazy heat waves into the air around the statue and made it look almost alive, like it might leave its throne and crush the buildings at its feet.

Corvan peered into the shadows off to the left of the statue. Was that a pointy roof?

A shove from behind pitched him over the edge.

Before Corvan could scream, two powerful hands gripped his shoulders and held him dangling in thin air.