The knight, the dragon and the necromancer. Daert dilogy-1

The alien base was not to be confused with anything else. It was nestled between two steep hills in the foothills. Grey stone platforms crowned the tops of the hills, and a wire fence blocked the entrance to the hollow. Some squat buildings were visible in the hollow. Rosa counted ten or twelve figures in armour around the fence and around the buildings.

— It's a bit modest, — Jeanne said disappointedly. The scouts were inspecting the base from the top of a nearby hill, leaving the dragoness behind. — Where are the wonders of the other world?

— Inside the hills, — Lytel answered her. The elven girl was lying on her stomach between the guardswoman and the sorceress, pulling the hood of her short cloak over her head. Jeanne and Rosa wore simple berets, but the girl hoped their black hair was not as noticeable from afar as the Lady Captain's wheat mane. — I can see the entrances on the inner slopes.

— So we need to get under the hills. — The Guardian scratched the tip of her nose. — An interesting challenge. They say the elves know how to live under the hills.

— We'll find a loophole, — Lytel said confidently. — The base was stormed. That should help us. The defences must not have been completely rebuilt. Although Auguste's mages could have installed their own signalling system.

The fact that the aliens had fought to the last was obvious to the naked eye — the ground around the base was stained with craters from explosions, the wire fence was gaping holes, and in the ravine near the entrance Rosa saw the hulk of a metal wagon with a hatch on the roof that had collapsed on its side. Here and there, ghostly lights of all the colours of the spectrum flickered faintly.

— A lot of residual magic, — the girl informed her companions. — But it's an echo of the battle. I can't see anything on the base itself.

— We rest until dark. — Captain Lytel rolled onto her back. — We'll scout in the night.

Lunch was again provided by Rosa, who had shot a rabbit in a nearby grove. She had also gathered some herbs for the broth, so as not to risk it. When she saw the young sorceress tucking into the soup, the elf hid her own collection of "seasonings" in her bag with a nonchalant look. They all went to bed together, leaving Toad in charge of the sentry.

The moon had risen in the afternoon. As dusk fell, the whitish sickle among the clouds flared a dull silver, giving people and objects shadows that were shaky and transparent. The three women left the camp with their elven crossbows at the ready. Lytel, who could see in the dark better than an owl, was the first to go, followed by Rosa, looking for signs of magic, and Jeanne was the last to follow. The guardswoman refused to remove her black cuirass, but somehow managed to move in it as quietly as the sorceress dressed in a hunting suit.

The outer hillsides were not guarded at all. The new owners of the base seemed to rely more on its secluded location, and sentries were posted at only a few key points. Once they were sure there were no patrols, the agents set to work. The search bore fruit almost immediately — Lytel spotted a tall gate cut into the hill, from which a deep track ran northwards. The gateway was unfortunately sealed by a metal plate, but there was a more modestly sized door nearby. No keyhole, alas — it was probably locked from the inside.

— Keep looking, — the elfess said. — There must be something.

And the "something" was up the slope. Pushing aside the shrapnel-strewn bushes, Rosa found an overturned metal hood behind them, and a hole in the ground next to it. It was suspiciously regular in shape. Looking inside, she saw a shaft with walls lined with silvery metal running at an angle downward.

— It looks like a vent, — Captain Lytel grinned as the sorceress led her to the find. — I've seen it in our mountain settlements. But what good is it to us?

— I can fit through it, — Rosa said in an excited whisper. The young sorceress had already checked — her shoulders fit through the hole freely.

— But we can't, — Jeanne observed. — Not even the lady captain, much less me.

— I'll open the door by the gate. — The girl rubbed her palms together, fascinated by the idea. — I'll find my way to it and open it. It's probably just a deadbolt.

— No way. — The Guardswoman grabbed Rosa's shoulder roughly and turned her around to face her. — I'm not letting you go anywhere alone.

— We can keep looking, of course. — The necromancer's apprentice held her friend's gaze, though, God knows, it wasn't easy. — And if we don't find it, we can try again tomorrow. We have plenty of time.

— Are you sure there's a way out of the vent? — Jeanne gritted her teeth. — That you won't meet a corner where you'll get stuck? That...

— Hush. — The young sorceress touched her friend's shoulder too — gently, soothingly. — Don't worry so much. I'm not going in there blind.

Releasing herself from the Guardswoman's grip, Rosa squatted down, ran her finger along the edge of the hole in the ground. She said:

— The metal inside is not steel, not iron. It doesn't interfere with my magic. I'll try one trick... But we'll have to go back to camp.

Don Marius was waiting for them, pacing restlessly around the slumbering Toad. The young sorceress didn't let him say a word — she rushed to her bed and pulled out a travelling bag from under the blankets. Digging inside, she pulled out a leather bundle under the moonlight, from which was sticking out... a red squirrel's head. At the sight of people, the squirrel made a sharp sound and twitched inside the bundle.

— Creator Almighty! What is it? — The knight asked in confusion.

— I caught it in a snare when I was hunting rabbits, — she explained, covering the squirrel's head with a thin cloth. — I wanted to... hmm... well, for experiments. Now she'll help us out. Marius, get all the rope we have. Jeanne, grab one blanket.

When they returned, of course, the hole in the ventilation shaft was still there. Rosa spread a blanket beside her and placed the package with the squirrel on the ground. She stroked the animal's ears with her index finger and mumbled a verbal formula. An invisible thread stretched between the squirrel and the sorceress.

— I'm just learning to be a necromancer, — she whispered, smiling involuntarily. — I've already learnt to be a nature mage. My mentor can't do that.

She loosened the binding on the bundle and pushed the squirrel into the shaft. She quickly covered the opening with a blanket and tapped it with her palm, scaring the animal. After waiting for half a minute, she said to Jeanne:

— Keep an eye on me. If anything happens, don't wake me up, grab me by the scruff of the neck and drag me.

Then she exhaled the activation formula... and fell backwards with a glazed look in her eyes. A moment later, she saw the world through the eyes of a frightened squirrel.

Chapter 20

As before, Rosa didn't choose which of the animal's senses to connect to — she shared the whole range of sensations with the squirrel. Even the little spy's emotions were partially transmitted to the girl. The squirrel rolled down the sloping shaft and found herself in the middle of a dusty, spacious corridor. Driven by fear, she rushed forward, looking for a safe corner. The sorceress was afraid that the squirrel would find the ventilation ducts a cosy enough place, would wander somewhere and thus disrupt the whole exploration. But the fright was too great, and the smells of metal and dust only increased the animal's panic. Clawing at the floor, the red-haired spy raced down the tunnel to the crossroads, stopped for a moment, and turned left. She came across a square grate in the wall, from which a deadly pale glow was pouring, but the squirrel passed it at full speed, without delay. Another one just like it. Dead end. Way back, into the right-hand corner of the intersection. There's the grid again. A few round holes in the floor and walls, as if the tunnel had been shot by a squad of arquebusiers. And suddenly, a light ahead. The squirrel struggled to stop at the edge of the cliff. The grey metal corridor was just ending. An entire section of it had collapsed somewhere down. Slightly dazed, the squirrel ducked to the edge and looked down. Under the cliff was a stone cave, flooded with the same glow that penetrated through the bars. The walls of the cave were stained with potholes of various shapes, black smudges of soot. But there was not a soul in there, and it smelled a little less of metal. A silver ladder was leaning against one of the walls. Without thinking long, the red-haired spy jumped down — the squirrel was not afraid of heights. First on the ladder, from it — on the floor. There was no debris from the ventilation shaft and shards, knocked out of the walls, on the floor — it must have been cleaned up after the assault. Squirrel ran along the wall, first to one side, then to the other. The cave was branching, too, with passages suddenly opening to the left and right. Rosa noticed one of them — one that went down to the left. Perhaps it led to the lower level. In addition to the passages, there were doors in the walls, all of them closed. But the leaf of the fifth or sixth had been kicked in, and the unwilling spy ducked in, into the semi-darkness. She saw a square room whose ceiling was lost in darkness. From wall to wall were racks lined with round helmets and objects that looked like guns — at least, they had barrels and butts. The metal stank even more strongly than in the ventilation, but the squirrel darted under one of the racks... and the etheric thread connecting the animal to the sorceress suddenly burst.

— Ah-h!... — Rosa sat up jerkily, clutching her chest. Her heart was pounding frantically, her face wet with sweat. — Ugh...

— Rosa? — Someone supported her under her back. The girl shook her head, chasing away the phantom sensations. "You don't have a tail!" — she said firmly to herself. And after a second she added: — It's a pity..."

— It's all right, Jeanne. — The student wiped the sweat from her forehead with a gloved hand. She looked round, smiling. It turned out that while Rosa had been unconscious, Jeanne had held her head in her lap. Lytel was guarding nearby, crossbow in hand. — It's... a reaction to someone else's fear. I know that it's the squirrel is scared, but my body doesn't.

— Did it work? — The warrior asked briefly.

— Yes. — The girl started unbuttoning her jacket. — The ventilation is passable, it's possible to get out, and I even know roughly where the corridors of the base lead. There's one towards the gate.

— Have you seen the guards? — The warrior had obviously accepted the fact that it would be impossible to dissuade her friend, so she switched to a businesslike tone.

— Not a soul, — Rosa waggled her chin. — It's three hours before dawn, everyone should be asleep. And the posts are probably just at the entrances. Get the rope ready.

The necromancer's apprentice got rid of her jacket and amulet harness. She tightened the belt around her waist and the lacing of her blouse, pulled up her gloves and boots. She tied a spare arrow and a dagger scabbard, a small flask to the crossbow stock. It was an unusual flask, a glass vial wrapped in felt and housed in a bronze case. It held a portion of an alchemical solvent capable of eating a hole in anything but glass. An indispensable item when you need to break someone out of prison. Another flask, a leather one, with an invigorating infusion, Rosa simply slipped it into her trouser pocket. If it burst and the contents spilled out, it would be all right. Finally, she tied the end of the long rope to her ankle.

— Hold me while I go down the slope, — she told her companions. — If I start pulling the rope a lot, pull me back, I can't turn round there and I won't go up on my own. If the rope just tightens, let go smoothly. If it sags, don't do anything.

— I see, — Lytel nodded. The elf had become surprisingly collected and serious. Her demeanour now matched that of a cool and reserved lady officer — for the first time in Rosa's memory, perhaps.

Jeanne, without a word, hugged Rose tightly. The girl quickly kissed the guard on the cheek and almost jumped into the black vent, afraid to change her mind. The sorceress was fully aware of the adventurousness of her plan.

The necromancer's apprentice moved cautiously down the humming metal shaft, holding the crossbow at her elbow. She had some difficulty matching her position with what the squirrel had seen. She had to make adjustments for perception. Good thing the ventilation wasn't rife with forks. At the first junction, Rosa turned immediately to the right. Here were the familiar bullet holes, from which thin rays of light were beating with transparent blades. And here was the cliff. It seemed almost bottomless to squirrel, but in fact the ventilation shaft was stretched under the ceiling of the most ordinary corridor. Using the lanyard tied to the stock, the girl lowered the crossbow to the floor and thought. Somehow it hadn't occurred to her that it would be difficult to get out of the vent herself. She would have to climb out headfirst... The height was small, but the floor was stone, and the noise of falling could attract attention. The exit was soon found. The collapsed section was not so large — the ventilation continued at arm's length. Rosa leaned out of the shaft as far as she could. Grasping the edge of the next section, she pulled herself into the pipe with a grunt of exertion. Now her feet were dangling in the air, and the pipe cut was digging into her stomach.

— Ufh!... — The girl pushed herself up with her elbows and fell out of the vent with her heels forward. Her heels hit the floor painfully, she couldn't stand on her feet and fell on her arse. Girl hissed softly through her teeth. She picked up her crossbow, struggled to get up and looked around. The place looked familiar — the stairs, the marks on the walls. There was also a pothole on the floor that the squirrel hadn't noticed. Something had exploded here during the assault, mangling the walls and knocking down a piece of ventilation pipe. But whether it had been a mage's fireball or an outsider's hand bomb was anyone's guess. If there was any trace of magic, it had long since dissipated. Rosa untied the rope from her leg, threw it into the vent, and moved down the corridor, treading softly and silently. She had her crossbow cocked and ready, her dagger strapped to her belt, just in case.

The interior of the alien lair looked frustratingly boring. What the squirrel saw as majestic caves of incredible size, to the girl was a simple corridor. Grey walls made of "liquid stone" — the concrete that was so beloved in the Old Empire. Now its recipe was forgotten, but in her native Daert, Rosa had seen many concrete buildings. Metal doors in the openings, glass tubes giving off white light under the ceiling. There was no magic in them, but they looked no different from magic lamps. At least some variety was added by the traces of battle — bullet marks, blood spatters and soot stains that had not been washed away, broken lamps. After a short walk, the girl found herself near a corridor leading downward. She listened. It was not her imagination — there was singing coming from the passageway. A husky man's voice was singing an unintelligible but cheerful song — a sailor's or a soldier's song, most likely.