The Hammer - Cor Series Book I

Jorad and Corvan whirled about.

An older woman with a cane stalked out toward them from between the four statues. She wore an orange shawl, brown leggings, and large black boots. Her frizzy red hair was tied back in a checkered scarf, and wide silver hoops hung from her ears.

Jorad stepped back. “Madam Toreg, I did not know you were still—”

The woman silenced him by waving the point of her carved staff in the priest’s face. “I wonder what you do know, Jorad. What do you know of those who have lived in the broken half of the city longer than you and your fathers have lived in the priest’s compound? Of those who are filling your bellies with food supplied by the palace, food bought with the lives of those who die of hard labor out in the settlements? What gives you the right to look down on those who refuse to serve the palace and choose to live off what little they can find out here?”

Jorad bowed low. “I am sorry, Madam Toreg. I was overcome by the loss of this great library and such wonderful treasures. I had no right to lay the blame for this on those who live here now.”

The old woman’s face softened. “I understand how you feel; my mother was once curator of this library.” She leaned on her staff. “It is a great evil that is willing to destroy such a precious heritage in its rampant pursuit of power.”

Jorad pointed to the walls. “How could they get the water to flow so high?”

“We do not know,” Madam Toreg said, “but given all the recent work at the temple karst, I have no doubt they will try again. Come, I will show you.” The woman stepped past Jorad, shot a quizzical look Corvan’s way, and motioned for them to follow.

She moved farther away from the torchlight in the hands of the statues and into the deep shadows under the balcony. The floor became more uneven. She held out her staff for them to stop and pointed below. At their feet, the floor of the building ended in a jagged hole above the shimmer of dark water far below.

“The reflecting pool under our library had been still since the founding of Kadir,” Madam Toreg said in a somber voice. “It was a place of peace and contemplation for those who wished only to learn and grow. One day, it began to bubble and froth, foul-smelling and undrinkable. Finally, it erupted in a great geyser that shot all the way to the ceiling. Everyone fled up here as the geyser hammered the ceiling below and water in the room rose higher.”

She tapped a broken pillar on the rim of the fractured hole. “The geyser weakened the floor on this level until it collapsed and stopped the geyser,” Madam Toreg said. “But the water kept rising into the library proper and then flowing out into the streets. The entry of the library collapsed and sealed it away from the approaching palace soldiers. The collapse saved our community from being discovered, but the water found its way into the refuge we had created to hide ourselves from the Watcher and his soldiers. The water receded from inside the library, but many of our people were trapped inside and drowned.”

Her voice cracked as she extended her hands, palm up, then brought them sharply together, slowly lowering her hands until her fingers pointed straight down.

Jorad made the same sign back to her. His face was a mask of deep sorrow.

Corvan gripped the stump of a broken pillar and leaned out over the edge. Below, an island of broken stones rose from the center of a lake that extended from wall to wall. The water swirled slowly around the island in dark eddies.

He was turning away when a small shadow slipped across the lake, just beneath the surface of the water. Something or someone was down there. He leaned out further to see where it was going, but Jorad yanked him back from the edge and was beckoning for him to follow.

Up ahead, Madam Toreg was stumping along with her cane back to the table where Kate lay. Corvan ran to catch up.

Kate’s hands were now clasped tightly around the disk on her chest. A peaceful look on her face made her appear as if she had been laid out for her own funeral.

Madam Toreg gently caressed Kate’s cheek with the back of her fingers, and Corvan glanced at the tears slipping down the older woman’s face. Looking back to Kate, he watched as Madam Toreg put her hand under the girl’s wrist to feel for her pulse. Then her hand cupped Kate’s, probing the girl’s fingers and allowing the light of the medallion to leak out into the room.

The woman turned sharply toward him. “Where did you find it?” she demanded.

Corvan stepped away as she advanced with her cane extended and jabbing at him. His back pressed up against one of the stone pillars as her cane thrust hard against his chest.

“The medallion you placed on her body,” Madam Toreg said sharply. “Where did you get it? Answer me truthfully, for your life depends on it.”

Corvan put his hands on the shaft of the cane, but she only pushed the tip harder against his chest. She was much stronger than she looked, and it felt like the metal tip of the cane was about to pierce through him.

Struggling to push the cane away, his forearm tightened against the lashes that held Morgan’s knife in place. In desperation, he slipped the knife out with one hand. He wanted only to defend himself and push the cane away, but a flash of sparks arced through the air. Madam Toreg’s carved staff fell to the ground. It was cut cleanly in two.

The old woman gasped and stumbled back to fall under the edge of the round table.

Corvan held the black blade limply in front of him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know—”

He never got a chance to finish. In but an instant, all the statues came to life. Four men jumped from their pedestals like lightening from the sky. One struck the knife from Corvan’s feeble grip, two pulled the old woman to her feet,and the fourth on the pillar behind Corvan dropped his torch and yanked Corvan’s arms up behind him in an iron grip.

Jorad moved in close and held his hand out to assist Madam Toreg. The old woman shook off the protection of her gray guardians, stepped up to Jorad, and slapped his face. “You have betrayed us by bringing a servant of the Rakash into our presence. You have put those in our refuge in great danger. You are a priest of Kadir. You, of all people, know better than this!”

Jorad licked at a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth and shook his head. “As a priest of Kadir, I swear that I tell you the truth. I do not know where he came upon the black knife, but I am certain this boy is not of the Rakash, nor is he connected to the palace and the Chief Watcher.”

“Silence!” the old woman commanded. With her gray men close behind, she moved in on Corvan and pointed to the knife on the floor. “If I dared touch that foul thing, you would die now by your own blade.”

Jorad raised his hand. “Madam Toreg, you warned me not to judge people too quickly. Do not make the same mistake.”

The tallest of her gray men touched the woman’s shoulder. She turned to him as he stooped to whisper in her ear.

“You are certain, Garek?” she asked quietly.

The man straightened, looked with compassion into Corvan’s face, and nodded.

Madam Toreg turned and gestured to the man behind Corvan. His arms were released, but the former statute remained close behind him.

Madam Toreg studied Corvan’s face a long moment, stepped to one side, and pointed at Kate. “Garek tells me that your treatment of this young woman is definitely not what the Rakash would do.” She sighed wearily. “I have seen far too much deception and betrayal in my life. What can you offer as a pledge that will remove any doubt as to your intentions?”

It took Corvan only a second to decide.

“I promise that I will not betray you to the palace.”

He slipped the hammer from its holster.

“I tell you the truth. I swear to you on this.”

As he extended the hammer toward her, its insignia was sending pulsing waves of blue light around the room.