The Key of Amatahns

  ***

  Lucan must have been unnerved by the empty suit of armor incident as he commanded them to get up and march on—doubtless to get it over with. Apparently, he would not consider turning around and leaving this wretched place as a solution.

  Invigorated by fear, Janir no longer felt weary. Karile had taken to whipping his head around to stare at anything even the least bit incongruous. Lucan now walked with both karkaton in his hands and his every motion was made cautiously. After seeing their friend bloodily murdered, the Argetallam warriors were no better, herding Janir and Saoven on with karkaton unsheathed and at the ready.

  No one could say how far they trudged through the shadows. None could remember how many times Karile stubbed his toe on stone steps or Lucan urged them to move faster. They might have marched through the empty halls for hours or minutes. Several times, Lucan halted their party and listened intently, then, deciding it had been nothing, continued on. It hardly mattered. If there were more of those things about, if there was an army, Janir preferred not to think of it.

  The tunnels gave way to a simple arch, a sudden change taking into account the boxy design so far. Light bled from the other side, well lit, but not blinding.

  Janir stumbled out of the tunnels into the largest room she had ever imagined possible. A kind of bridge spanned the colossus. Straight ahead, on the other side, Janir spotted a distant iron gate barring the way onwards into the earth. She wasn’t sure how Lucan intended to get past that, but her attention was quickly drawn elsewhere.

  Knights, or suits of armor, just like the one Lucan had fought, legions upon legions of them, lined the inside of the huge room. They stood on shelf like crevices staggered back from the ceiling, seeming to rise into eternity. All around them, these scores of silent sentinels stared off into space with weapons at the ready, helmets facing straight ahead. Some of them were so far away, Janir could barely make out their shapes.

  Leaves in a forest of iron and stone, they covered the walls of the gigantic chamber. Glancing about made Janir dizzy. It made her feel her own sheer smallness.

  “You asked where the guards were, Janir,” Saoven whispered. “I think we just found the barracks.”

  It did appear to be a barracks of sorts, one in which each soldier took up no more space than he did standing. Again, she was swept away by the sheer number of them, there must have been at least tens of thousands!

  “Do you think they’re going to attack?” Janir nervously asked.

  “No. Not likely. They probably have not moved for entire eras.” Saoven surveyed the seemingly endless number of knights.

  “There was that one who just tried to kill us,” Karile indignantly pointed out. “How long since he last moved?”

  “Stop talking!” Lucan hissed, marching on toward the end of the bridge and the next tunnel. “According to you, enchanter, the chamber is somewhere around here, and we are going to find it!”

  For all their fierce reputation, Janir noticed the Argetallams shooting anxious glances up at the scores of soldiers. They were probably thinking what she was—that if those things did attack, they wouldn’t stand a chance.

  It seemed to take forever to reach the other end of the bridge. It never looked to be getting any closer. About halfway out, Janir happened to glance behind her.

  “Saoven?” Janir choked. “Were those knights there before?”

  “I said no talking!” Lucan whirled around to behold three of the suits of armor, or whatever they were, standing by the mouth of the last tunnel. For the first time since they had been eight years old, Janir saw fear, unmistakable fear, in Lucan’s eyes.

  Lucan thought for a moment. He didn’t contemplate long. “Bloody nuisance, that’s what they are,” he growled. “Be gone! The chamber is mine and nothing will keep me from it!”

  At first nothing happened. Lucan stood there, glaring defiantly toward the suits of armor, refusing to be intimidated. The Argetallams clenched their karkaton and eyed the suits with suspicion. Karile moved closer to Janir. Janir moved closer to Saoven.

  No one spoke. They hardly even breathed.

  Then, like the shuffling of a multitude of scales, there came a clanking as all of the knights became animated as one.

  “What’s happening?” Janir gasped.

  The knights were turning sideways and mobilizing. The deafening noise of countless pairs of metal feet clanging on stone filled the massive cavern. They marched in segregated units, perfectly together, heading double file for cramped entrances at each level, doors so narrow they had been unnoticeable before. Even the triad at the mouth of the tunnel began advancing in rhythm to the steps of the others. Not a word was whispered among them, there was just dutiful, wordless marching.

  It was very different to the silent movements they had displayed before—perhaps it was because they no longer had need for stealth. Anyone with eyes knew full well that the intruders were trapped.

  “What’s happening?” Janir repeated, now scared out of her wits.

  “I think…” Karile shouted above the clamor, barely audible. “I think that your brother just declared war on a whole bunch of empty suits of armor. Should we be running?”