Read Online The Fifth Magic (Book 1) by Brian Rathbone - Free Book Online
Authors: Brian Rathbone
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he could barely contain himself.
Strom grabbed his arm and leaned in. "Easy."
Martik hadn't even realized he'd been stepping forward and back as if about to make a running jump. Taking deep breaths, he did what he could to release them slowly. After what felt like ages, they reached the pocked stone shoreline. The bargeman said nothing as the three men disembarked. He simply poled back into deep water.
A single pair of guards was all that stood between them and the Chinawpa Valley and their freedom. Strom led the way, and it was clear he intended to fight if necessary. Martik followed with a bit less conviction, and Osbourne nearly outpaced him. They were at the checkered hall, which was what they now called the hall where Kyrien had entered and exited the hold with his dragon ore saddle on. The stones had left crisscrossing gouges in the otherwise smooth stone. It was a poignant reminder.
The guards' silhouettes came into view, and Martik could hear nothing over the pounding in his ears. Strom approached the man on the left and nodded in greeting. The man nodded back, and Strom walked into the valley beyond. Osbourne took another tentative step on his way outside, and nothing barred his path. Martik nearly sighed with relief again, but instead a hand closed over his mouth.
"You disappoint me, Martik Tillerman," Trinda said from within the cavern; the light of many herald globes her guards held hurting his eyes. It was an exaggerated show of force. A single overcharged herald globe would have been plenty. "First you failed to impress after you summoned me and now this. What am I going to do with you?"
Strong hands marshaled Martik back to where Trinda stood, and she spoke over his shoulder. "As for the two of you," she said. "You may never return."
Chapter 5
Words can cut as deep as a blade.
--Morif, soldier
* * *
The mighty wheel mocked Martik. He'd been so certain only days ago the shafts were the keys, and he was starting to realize they were perhaps one of the keys. The presence of a vacuum, that inrushing breeze, made him envision moving water. A river ran through this mountain, and it could be the suction's source. Those thoughts would have continued if not for heavy debris being cleared from atop the wheel. This irregularly shaped rock had not been created by the keep's crumbling. All the stone around it was smooth once the debris was cleared. This debris had been placed there to intentionally jam the mechanism, Martik knew. Someone had worked hard to make certain this wheel would stay as it was.
"Clear below!" Bradley shouted from above.
Martik moved to a safer place. The debris had to be thrown, or in this case pushed, from high above, and there was no guarantee it would fall where they intended. The wrong bounce on the way down could send it toward those gathered at the mighty wheel's base.
"Clear," Martik called back once he was satisfied his people were as safe as they could be.
Jagged rock appeared, only the tip at first, and it moved slowly before toppling over all at once and racing down the wheel's face, never touching the smooth stone. Hitting bottom with terrible force, it sent stone shards flying in every direction, some screaming as they went.
"Help!" someone shouted. "Man down!"
Martik cursed himself for not moving people farther back and pushed through the crowd.
"Stung me good," a man named Adger said. "But I'm all right. I think we should use that rock to make a wall we can take shelter behind."
Martik laughed. Leave it to someone from the Godfist to use the very problem itself as the solution. "Adger's right," he said. "Do as he says."
The man gave Martik a grateful nod but said nothing. Instead he just started moving rock. The others followed suit and placed their loads where he pointed. It proved something Martik's father had once told him. "Men of few words speak through their work."
With the shelter erected, Martik sent more men to the wheel's top to work the jam
Strom grabbed his arm and leaned in. "Easy."
Martik hadn't even realized he'd been stepping forward and back as if about to make a running jump. Taking deep breaths, he did what he could to release them slowly. After what felt like ages, they reached the pocked stone shoreline. The bargeman said nothing as the three men disembarked. He simply poled back into deep water.
A single pair of guards was all that stood between them and the Chinawpa Valley and their freedom. Strom led the way, and it was clear he intended to fight if necessary. Martik followed with a bit less conviction, and Osbourne nearly outpaced him. They were at the checkered hall, which was what they now called the hall where Kyrien had entered and exited the hold with his dragon ore saddle on. The stones had left crisscrossing gouges in the otherwise smooth stone. It was a poignant reminder.
The guards' silhouettes came into view, and Martik could hear nothing over the pounding in his ears. Strom approached the man on the left and nodded in greeting. The man nodded back, and Strom walked into the valley beyond. Osbourne took another tentative step on his way outside, and nothing barred his path. Martik nearly sighed with relief again, but instead a hand closed over his mouth.
"You disappoint me, Martik Tillerman," Trinda said from within the cavern; the light of many herald globes her guards held hurting his eyes. It was an exaggerated show of force. A single overcharged herald globe would have been plenty. "First you failed to impress after you summoned me and now this. What am I going to do with you?"
Strong hands marshaled Martik back to where Trinda stood, and she spoke over his shoulder. "As for the two of you," she said. "You may never return."
Chapter 5
Words can cut as deep as a blade.
--Morif, soldier
* * *
The mighty wheel mocked Martik. He'd been so certain only days ago the shafts were the keys, and he was starting to realize they were perhaps one of the keys. The presence of a vacuum, that inrushing breeze, made him envision moving water. A river ran through this mountain, and it could be the suction's source. Those thoughts would have continued if not for heavy debris being cleared from atop the wheel. This irregularly shaped rock had not been created by the keep's crumbling. All the stone around it was smooth once the debris was cleared. This debris had been placed there to intentionally jam the mechanism, Martik knew. Someone had worked hard to make certain this wheel would stay as it was.
"Clear below!" Bradley shouted from above.
Martik moved to a safer place. The debris had to be thrown, or in this case pushed, from high above, and there was no guarantee it would fall where they intended. The wrong bounce on the way down could send it toward those gathered at the mighty wheel's base.
"Clear," Martik called back once he was satisfied his people were as safe as they could be.
Jagged rock appeared, only the tip at first, and it moved slowly before toppling over all at once and racing down the wheel's face, never touching the smooth stone. Hitting bottom with terrible force, it sent stone shards flying in every direction, some screaming as they went.
"Help!" someone shouted. "Man down!"
Martik cursed himself for not moving people farther back and pushed through the crowd.
"Stung me good," a man named Adger said. "But I'm all right. I think we should use that rock to make a wall we can take shelter behind."
Martik laughed. Leave it to someone from the Godfist to use the very problem itself as the solution. "Adger's right," he said. "Do as he says."
The man gave Martik a grateful nod but said nothing. Instead he just started moving rock. The others followed suit and placed their loads where he pointed. It proved something Martik's father had once told him. "Men of few words speak through their work."
With the shelter erected, Martik sent more men to the wheel's top to work the jam
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