The Inquisition (Summoner, #2)(83)

The others were crouched in the dirt around him, their wide eyes unseeing as they glanced around fearfully. Even Lysander seemed nervous, his claws digging a furrow in the earth as he waited for their next move.

‘I can’t believe we made it,’ Fletcher said, looking at the position of the moon in the sky. ‘It’s almost midnight. Let’s see who else is here.’

‘We can’t be the only ones,’ Cress whispered.

Fletcher crouched low and scuttled towards the pyramid, Ignatius loping ahead with his nose to the ground and Athena keeping watch from above.

As they moved closer, Fletcher took in the enormous building. Despite the threat of the foreboding treeline on either side, he could not help but focus on Athena’s view of the structure.

It was larger than anything he had ever seen, even more so than Vocans itself. It was made from a series of square levels that narrowed as they neared the top. Athena’s night-vision showed that the stone slabs it was comprised of were a dull yellow in colour, and their outsides were coated in tangled vines and creepers.

Then they were in the shadow of the pyramid itself, and suddenly they were not alone.

‘Is that you, Fletcher?’ Seraph’s voice called from the entrance, accompanied by the click of a pistol’s flint being pulled back.

‘Put that thing away,’ Malik hissed, and there was a clatter as a gun was knocked to the floor.

The two leaders were crouched in the entrance. Both were soaking wet, their shaggy black hair plastered to their foreheads. They looked miserable, terrified and exhausted.

‘It’s us – no need to go shooting up the place,’ Othello said, picking up the gun and handing it to Seraph. ‘That thing wouldn’t have fired anyway, it looks like the powder’s wet.’

‘Well, that’s what half drowning yourself in the river will get you,’ Seraph groaned, wringing out his hair between his fingers. ‘The others are drying off in the entrance chamber. Don’t worry, you can’t see the fire from outside.’

‘There might be demons guarding the place in there,’ Cress remarked, peering into the entrance. It was a bare corridor that stretched into darkness, with a small chamber to the left. Fletcher could see the hint of the glow of flame from within it, but wasn’t unduly worried. Any guard demons would most likely be deeper inside, if there were any at all. Even so, Seraph shuddered and shuffled away from the entrance.

‘Why are you wet?’ Fletcher asked Malik, remembering the route his team was supposed to have taken.

‘We changed our minds,’ Malik muttered. ‘When Isadora’s team switched to your side of the river, we thought they knew something we didn’t and followed. We met up with Seraph’s team just before crossing.’

Fletcher froze. So, Malik’s team had been on their side of the river too. Was it possible it was one of them who had tried to kill him?

‘Speaking of which, have you seen Isadora’s team?’ Seraph interjected, breaking up Fletcher’s thoughts. ‘Our window for the raid closes in eight hours.’

‘Are they not here yet?’ Cress exclaimed. ‘We need them!’

‘What do we do now?’ Fletcher asked, his heart pounding. He had not really considered what they would do if another team were late.

‘I’d rather wait for Isadora’s team.’ Malik yawned. ‘If we attack now, their chances of rescue are much lower.’

Sylva snorted, as if Malik had made a joke.

‘Wouldn’t that be a shame,’ she muttered under her breath.

‘I say we hole up here and hope they make an appearance,’ Malik continued, already moving to the fire-lit chamber. ‘The orcs won’t be expecting anything.’

‘The Celestial Corps are on standby right now,’ Seraph warned, looking into the night sky. ‘Every minute we waste is a minute Hominum’s skies go undefended.’

‘Be that as it may, we’re all exhausted,’ Malik replied. ‘We might as well wait until morning.’

Fletcher was bone tired … but they only had eight hours to complete the mission. Who knew how long it would take for them to find their objective in the labyrinth of tunnels ahead?

‘Maybe we should attack now,’ Fletcher argued. ‘We’re about to bed down in the most sacred place in Orcdom, while Hominum’s only air defence waits for us on the ground. Does that not sound crazy to you?’

But support for Malik came from an unlikely source. Seraph had changed his mind.

‘Look, we’re a team down right now,’ Seraph sighed. ‘I know you have issues with Isadora’s lot – hell, I do too – but whether you like it or not, we have a better chance of success with them fighting alongside us. Malik’s team and mine expended a lot of mana crossing that river, we had to use the telekinesis spell to help propel ourselves through that current. We need to rest.’

Malik chimed in.

‘We can go in half-cocked now, or wait a few hours and do it properly. Remember, we only have one shot at this. Let’s make it count.’

‘Easy for you to say,’ Rufus’s voice snarled from within the pyramid. ‘My mother might not last another night.’

Malik winced, but ignored the outburst and beckoned Fletcher’s team to follow him through the entrance.

‘They don’t use this place other than for rituals, right?’ Malik said over his shoulder. ‘Mason says only shamans are allowed in the pyramid. We’re safer hiding here than out in the jungle.’