The Hammer - Cor Series Book I

Corvan and Jorad followed Madam Toreg past the staircase leading to the upper level of the library, under the balcony, and through an arch into a darkened lobby. Dried lumien vines twisted around rusty lamp stands that sprouted from mounds of broken tiles. Shattered statues and pieces of fluted columns lay scattered over the floor. The front of the building had completely collapsed.

Moving through the maze of broken stones, they encountered a stairwell that swept downward in a wide arc. At the bottom, a passage ran a short distance in either direction, only to dead end in ceiling high piles of rubble.

Madam Toreg marched straight ahead and inserted the tip of her broken cane into a hole in the smooth rock wall. Concealed doors sprang open, revealing armed guards waiting within. A stocky, bald man rushed out and proceeded to engage Madam Toreg in a heated conversation with furious gestures toward Corvan and Jorad. His face grew redder. He pursed his lips, stepped back, nodded to Madam Toreg in a cursory manner, then scurried back inside the guarded passage.

Madam Toreg looked at Corvan with a deep frown and gestured for them to follow. Edging past the guards, they all moved into a crevice so narrow only one person could go through at a time. It twisted back and forth on itself like a snake. The corners were so sharp they had to tilt Kate’s litter at a steep angle to get her around them. As he negotiated a tight corner, Corvan glanced up and noticed there were openings in the ceiling. He could see they were being watched. At two places, they had to wait for doors to open and then shut behind them.

The channel finally opened into a wider chamber, where Madam Toreg waited for them before an arched double door. As Corvan stepped beside her, she pushed firmly on the doors and swung them wide.

After what felt like weeks in near darkness, the scene completely overwhelmed Corvan. He squinted against the light at a domed ceiling so crowded with lumien globes it was almost impossible to distinguish one from the others. Jorad shoved the litter forward, which thrust Corvan tight against a low stone wall. The doors banged shut behind him, and the echo came back from the far side of the rounded cavern.

“Welcome to our City of Refuge,” Madam Toreg said proudly as she came up beside him. “All who seek the truth and live with compassion are welcome here.”

Corvan leaned over the ledge. Small, whitewashed dwellings were evenly spaced along terraces cut into the floor of the cavern. The scene looked more like a painting than something real. The circular pattern was like the streets of Kadir except the tracks were narrow and stacked downward like a funnel along the sides of the bowl. Narrower lanes connected the circular roads, like snakes slithering toward a central plaza surrounded by larger buildings at the bottom.

“It’s beautiful,” Jorad spoke quietly from behind Corvan. “Seeing all these healthy lumiens gives me hope that Kadir may again shine in all its glory.”

Madam Toreg glanced back at the priest with a question on her face and pointed to the left, where a creek rushed along the bottom of a deep channel next to the cavern wall. “That is what currently remains of the water that flows from under the library.” Her eyes narrowed as she looked at Jorad. “The water that was sent by the palace in Kadir. They are the ones who tried to fill our City of Refuge with water. Many of our people drowned in that attempt.” She made the special sign with her hands and sighed heavily. “We are ready if they try it again. Next time, our water channel will carry the water back to the lower river outlet.”

“How many people remain?” Jorad asked. “I don’t see anyone.”

“You won’t,” she said. “The day has not yet begun, and those along our path were instructed to stay indoors, for your safety as well as theirs. It is best if you pass unseen. Come, we will follow the water channel.”

They moved to the left along the upper edge of the cavern and behind the outer ring of dwellings. Each home had a small patch of vegetation in the back. Some had vines with clusters of yellow fruit trailing over their walls.

A baby’s cry rose above the burble of the water running alongside the road, and a woman sang a lullaby. “Those are sounds I have not heard for a very long time.” Jorad’s voice was choked with emotion.

Madam Toreg stopped and looked back. Her face softened. “I have heard of your great loss, Jorad, and I offer my sympathy. Perhaps you should consider staying here with us instead of returning to Kadir.”

Jorad’s response was cut off by strains of flute music drifting in from around the corner. Madam Toreg whipped about and moved quickly around the bend by the river wall. Up ahead, a small boy in ragged clothing sat on the water channel wall. His bare feet and grubby legs kept time to the music as he blew across a set of graduated pipes. The mournful sound of its melancholy strains wrapped around them.

“Gavyn!” Madam Toreg barked. “Come here!” Madam Toreg looked stern, but Corvan sensed the motherly love in her voice.

The boy, all the while playing his pipes without missing a note, jumped off the wall and landed lightly in front of the old woman. Madam Toreg gently pushed the flute down from his lips. He smiled at her, but his deep blue eyes betrayed an abiding sadness.

“Gavyn, did you not hear that everyone was to remain out of sight?” she asked.

The boy shrugged, looked at the ground, and ran a hand through his damp, matted hair.

Jorad swiveled the pallet around and came into view alongside Corvan. He gave a soft whistle and smiled at the young boy. Gavyn’s eyes brightened, and he ran to hug Jorad around the waist. Jorad bent his knees slightly, and Gavyn reached into the priest’s cloak to fish out a small object wrapped in yellow paper. Jorad straightened and looked at Madam Toreg. “As priests, we allow the little children that suffer to come to us for comfort.”

Madam Toreg nodded slightly but shot Gavyn a warning look that suggested he be on his way. The boy ignored her and approached Corvan. He ran his hands along the side of Corvan’s cloak. Corvan tried to pull away from his probing fingers, but Jorad’s grip on the pallet restricted his movements.

“Gavyn.” Madam Toreg stepped toward them. “I have warned you about taking things that do not belong to you.”

The boy’s hand ran over the hammer in its holster. He stopped and looked up at Corvan with a puzzled expression. He said nothing, but Corvan knew the boy completely understood that the hammer was now back in the Cor and that meant trouble was coming.

Madam Toreg stamped her foot, and the child whirled and grabbed a yellow fruit off a vine on his way over a stone wall.

“He means no harm,” Madam Toreg said. “He lives wild, up in the ruins surrounding the library. Somehow, he has found a way to come and go in our new city as he pleases. I was told he lost his family in the flood, but no one knows for sure. He has never spoken.” She turned and headed down the road. “We need to keep moving or the mayor might show up again.”

The road grew steeper ahead, where the wall alongside was lower. The sound of the creek on the other side of it grew louder. Rounding a corner, Corvan found himself at the top of a steep flight of stairs that were slick with the spray from a series of waterfalls that plunged to a turbulent pool below.

“We have more work to do to complete the outlet channel, so these steps can get slippery. You’d best turn sideways and carry her down together.” She took two steps down and pointed ahead. “Let me go first and caress the light.”

Madam Toreg descended the stairs and pushed a long pole up into the shadows. A large lumien hanging from a ring glowed as Madam Toreg gently stroked the tendrils that hung around the globe with the soft flaps at the end of the pole. Satisfied with the level of light, she leaned the pole back against the wall and motioned for them to join her.

Corvan and Jorad held the litter awkwardly between them and made their way to the bottom level, where large stone blocks were stacked in loose piles. A deep lagoon swirled behind a circular wall. Madam Toreg led them around to where a sluice gate allowed water from the lagoon to rush under a low opening in the cavern wall.

Madam Toreg pointed at the tunnel while speaking, but Corvan couldn’t catch what she was saying over the sound of the rushing water. She motioned to them to wait and disappeared around the side of the lagoon. A low rumble, as if a train were passing, coursed through the rock. The water ebbed to a trickle.

Madam Toreg reappeared. “There is not much time before I must release the water again. You can get inside the channel just ahead of the gate and follow the tunnel along. You will come out directly under the lower bridge. A stairway will take you up to the roadway onto the bridge. Jorad, you will know where to go from there.”

Jorad spoke up. “Thank you, Madam Toreg. Your kindness will not be forgotten. We will protect your secrets and hold your well-being in good faith.”

“I know you will, Jorad, and I thank you.” She turned to Corvan, placed a hand on either side of his face, and pulled him close. “I understand that you must fulfill your vow to this girl, but I also ask you to do whatever is in your power to rescue the owner of the white scarf. It is important to the Cor.” She glanced over his shoulder at Jorad then whispered in his ear, “It is very important to me as well.” She pulled back. Her eyes were full of tears.

Corvan nodded quickly. “I promise, Madam Toreg. I promise on the hammer.”

Her bushy eyebrows shot up, then she smiled. “Thank you … Cor-Van.”

She looked again to Jorad. “Take the girl to Jokten in the Molakar settlement; his counterpart is gifted in healing, and he is the only one left with an understanding of the outer passages.” She gestured toward the empty watercourse, and then she touched Corvan’s arm. “Do not lose the medallion the girl holds. When you become the Cor-Van, you will need all three.”

Corvan tried to respond, but she waved them on. “Move quickly now. The lagoon walls are not completed, and the water will soon overflow the gate.”

Holding tight to the front of the litter, Corvan stepped over a gap in the wall and into a roughhewn channel. He could feel Jorad’s reluctance through the poles as the priest did the same and joined him in the tunnel. Water dripped from a ceiling that drew lower as they progressed. Corvan crouched to avoid hitting his head.

“How much farther?” Jorad’s anxious voice reverberated in the tight space.

“I can’t tell,” Corvan responded. “But we need to keep moving before the water comes back and drowns us in here.”

It was the wrong thing to say, and Jorad pushed so hard on the poles that Corvan had to stumble along in his awkward stance to avoid being driven to his knees.

Jorad’s haste was a good thing. As they cleared the tunnel’s end and climbed out of the channel, water roared from the hole they had just left and gushed out into the main river. Overhead a narrow span crossed the river.

Corvan glanced back and found Jorad’s white face dripping with both water and sweat.

“To the left,” the priest gasped, “up the stairs—but watch your step, I don’t want to fall in.”

A long flight of narrow steps along the riverbank brought them up behind the low wall that kept the travelers on the main road safely away from the water. Setting Kate’s litter on the wall, they climbed onto the road. Corvan had just grabbed the poles when they heard a familiar warbling cry from the edge of the city.

“They are close,” Jorad hissed. “To the bridge, quickly!”

Kate’s body bounced on the litter as they ran forward. Ahead, the entrance to the bridge was flanked by two large stone pillars supporting the main bridge cables that reached out to the far side.

A shadow moved out to meet them, and Garek waved them on.

There was urgency in the gray man’s voice. “Quickly, run across. The bridge will shake, but I promise you it will not fall. Do not stop.” He pushed Corvan past him onto a metal suspension bridge that curved gently upward toward the center. The metal panels of its floor snapped and sprang as they ran. They were nearly to the middle when a trumpet blast rolled out over the water.

“Stop in the name of the Chief Watcher!” A deep voice boomed out.

They kept running over the center of the bridge, its panels slipping beneath their feet and pitching them toward the chain railings.

“Stop, Kalian. Stop in the name of the Rakash.” The rasping voice crawled up Corvan’s spine and into his head. How did the seeker know his name?

Something moved in the shadows ahead. The bridge pitched and rolled beneath their feet as they staggered off the end. Another of the gray men stepped out to steady them.

Corvan looked back. Two red-cloaked guards had reached the crest of the bridge, and the ghostly form of the Seeker was just behind them. The guards slowed as the shifting panels below their feet threw them from side to side. The Seeker staggered against the chains.

The gray man threw his weight out to the side of the supporting pillar and in and instant the soldier and the seeker disappeared along with the center section of the bridge.

The screams from the soldiers lasted only a second before being silenced by the rushing water.

Jorad spoke into the heavy silence. “Did they all . . . ?”

“Yes,” the gray man replied.

“Including the Seeker?” Jorad asked.

“Gone into the water. May it sweep him into the abyss.” The gray man slipped away into the gloom.

A light push on the poles of the litter was all Corvan needed to get him moving again. They walked in silence along the river wall. The rasping voice echoed in Corvan’s head, and he glanced down into the dark water repeatedly.

For a brief moment, he was certain he saw a pair of white eyes moving along just under the surface of the water and staring back at him.