Free The Fifth Vertex (The Sigilord Chronicles) by Kevin Hoffman Page B

of the cell, Urus half expected him to draw a weapon or cast some spell and kill them both. How could he trust someone he was so afraid of?  
    Murin stopped and regarded Urus. "Have your hands had any more spontaneous emissions?"
    "What does that mean?" Goodwyn asked.
    "My fingers," Urus began, "I saw blue sparks coming out of them while we were in one of the chambers behind the throne room."
    "Was that before or after you started drinking?" Goodwyn said with a grin. When neither Urus nor Murin seemed amused, Goodwyn fell silent.
    Murin shook his head, marveling. "I have had a hundred lifetimes of days filled with nothing but empty time, and now on a day when I have none to spare, I meet a sigilord and a quiver in the same place.
    "A what and a what?" Goodwyn asked, his impatience obvious.
    "The door. Goodwyn, you must lead the way," Murin said, pointing back into the dark hallway from which they had come.
    "Why would I know where the door is?"
    Murin sighed, tilting his head slightly. He tilted it again to the other side, eyes flitting back and forth.
    "The commander and the shaman leader are both in the tunnels now. Time grows short. You must lead us to the vertex, Goodwyn."
    "How?"
    Murin grabbed Goodwyn by the shoulders and stared into his eyes. Again, Urus's mind conjured up images of flames erupting from his dark eye sockets or Murin opening his mouth and sucking out Goodwyn's soul like the witches did in the storybooks. Urus angled himself to see Murin's words.
    "Close your eyes and imagine that you are fighting. Your opponent is a stone with writing on it, the image of which is in my own mind and now in yours. Anticipate its movements as it tries to conceal its location from you. Follow those tricks to the source."
    "I can't. I don't know what you're talking about or why you think I can do this."
    Murin smiled, a look that seemed very alien on that gray face. "Now that you have seen your quarry, you cannot fail. Simply guess at every turn and we will find it. It is what quivers do; it is what you do now."
    "This is stupid."
    Murin ignored the comment and pointed to the hallway.
    "Mace," Goodwyn signed. Urus took hold of the mace at the end of the suzur's chain, and once more they plunged into the darkness.  
    At first Goodwyn seemed unsure and tentative, but after a few turns he broke into a full sprint and they ran, presumably with Murin behind them, weaving and dodging through the dungeons. Urus couldn't tell if they were simply backtracking the way they'd come or taking a different route to some new, probably very dangerous, part of the palace's underbelly.
    Goodwyn skidded to a halt, holding up a hand. Urus stumbled into his friend, and with grace that belied his size Murin rose up onto his toes and hugged the wall, his robe barely touching Urus.
    "We're at the cistern," Goodwyn said, turning toward them. "There are people in boats down here."
    Murin took a step and peered over Goodwyn's head, looking around the corner. "Loderans."
    Urus squeezed between the two to get a better look.
    The cistern was a massive natural cavern supported by Kestian-carved sunstone arches and pillars, the stone above drawing just enough sunlight during the day to allow the structure to glow below in the cavern.
    At least a dozen boats moved over the shallow waters, rowed by men nearly as pale as the stranger Urus had seen arguing with Kebetir, large axes and swords on their backs. Most of them sported thick blond or red beards, long, scruffy hair, and a seemingly permanent scowl.
    "We have to go back. We have to warn everyone," Urus signed.
    "They can handle themselves, and they will have their hands full defending the city walls. We have to get to the vertex before the Loderans find it," said Murin.
    "Who are the Loderans?" Urus asked.
    "Northerners, from nearly as far north as men dare live. I cannot   imagine what it took to get them this far south. We cannot let them find the door."
    "It's on the other side of the cistern,"