43
The teams kneeled at the entry of the passageway, examining the crude map that Mason had mocked up of the cavern. Their demons crowded the tunnel ahead, watching for movement.
‘I have no idea ’ow this tunnel links to the caves, but I’ll know it pretty well when we get inside,’ Mason said, using his sword to point at a large central chamber in the middle. ‘This is the main cavern. I’ve only been in there once, but I know it’s where they store the goblin eggs. It’s a magma chamber, so it keeps ’em warm. From what I’ve seen, the oldest batch ’atches right around the time a new one is brought in, so we need to be careful.’
He looked warily over his shoulder down the tunnel, then down at the swollen eggs in the moat.
‘Some goblins could be comin’ to collect ’em at some point, so we’d better move soon.’
‘What about the prisoners?’ Cress asked, hunkering down beside him. ‘Where are they kept?’
As she spoke, Sylva watched her face intently, her hand on the handle of her falx.
Mason pointed to a chamber connected to the main cavern by a long, thin tunnel, with another branching off it to the surface above.
‘That’s where they kept the prisoners sometimes. I dunno if my mates’ll be in there at this time of day.’
‘Is that where my mother is?’ Rufus asked, his eyes wide.
‘Yeah. She was kept in a cage. They never let ’er out, or let us speak to ’er,’ Mason said, shaking his head. ‘We weren’t even able to speak to each other in there – there were goblins in the room all the bloody time, it’s where most of ’em sleep, especially when there’s a celebration time, like today. They’ll have drunk themselves into a stupor by now, but we’ll still ’ave an ’ell of a time gettin’ ’er out without bein’ spotted.’
Rufus drew his sword at these words and went to stand beside his demon, an otter-like Lutra, at the end of the tunnel. Fletcher knew how the boy felt. He would give anything for a chance to see his mother again.
Isadora clapped her hands together, making them all jump.
‘Right, here’s how it’s going to play out,’ she said, pointing down the tunnel. ‘We take out the eggs in the main cavern quietly, until we’re discovered and the alarm is raised. When that happens, it’s about destroying as many as possible. Gunpowder, fireballs, lightning, it doesn’t matter how loud it is, we need to take out their reserve eggs and get out safely. Anyone have a problem with that?’
Fletcher shook his head. Despite his misgivings, he couldn’t ignore the sense of Isadora’s orders. That was what he would have done. Isadora continued, unfazed by the silence from the others.
‘As soon as they see us reach the eggs, the Celestial Corps will take off and make for our rendezvous at the back of the pyramid, giving us around twenty minutes to complete our objective. When they’re almost here, our sponsor demons will let us know it’s time to go. We’ll have ten additional minutes to get back to the extraction point at the back of the pyramid from then on. Arrive later than that, you’re on your own.’
‘How are we supposed to get back if half of Orcdom is armed to the teeth in front of the pyramid?’ Verity said, taking her tablet from Sylva and holding it up for the others to see. The image showed thousands of orcs milling around outside, with the various games still being played through sunset.
‘It won’t matter.’ Mason peered at the tablet. ‘They won’t all come in ’ere. Only orc adepts can enter the pyramid, so we’ll only ’ave goblins, shamans and their demons to deal with when we get back to this point. But I reckon we oughta move quick-like when the alarm sounds. The caves’ll be flooded with orcs pretty sharpish.’
‘Good,’ Fletcher said, loosening his pistols in their holsters. ‘Now, unless there are any more questions, let’s get moving.’
‘Aren’t we feisty today?’ Didric said, giving him a lopsided grin. ‘You’re forgetting there’s a batch of eggs right here. Why don’t you stay back and deal with them, while the big boys do the real work?’
Fletcher ignored him, but Didric’s words gave him pause. He turned to Jeffrey, who was holding his short sword in front of him as if it were a dangerous snake.
‘Jeffrey, you stay here and destroy these eggs,’ Fletcher said, pointing at the sticky globes that crowded the area around them. ‘Someone has to. I’d rather you stay in the pit and keep watch, out of the way. You can warn us if any shamans come back. Can you do that?’
Jeffrey nodded gratefully. ‘Honestly, I would just slow you down. I’ll examine these newly fertilised eggs more closely, see what I can find out.’
He sliced into the nearest egg with a wild swing. The foul stench in the air grew thicker, eliciting a collective groan from the others.
‘Idiot,’ Didric said. ‘All right, let’s get out of here.’
And just like that, the mission had begun.
The demons led the way, following a single wyrdlight that cast a dull glow around the cave. The walls and ceiling were made of a strange mix of soil, shale and roots that to Fletcher appeared as unstable as a three-legged chair. Every now and again dust would trickle down on to their heads, disturbed by the passing of so many.
‘Here,’ Fletcher said, handing a mana vial to Cress, Sylva and Othello, keeping the one remaining health vial for himself. After two assassination attempts, he wasn’t going to take any chances.
As he handed it to Cress, Sylva pulled a face, still distrustful of the young dwarf. But at this point it mattered little to Fletcher. All he cared about now was protecting Hominum, and he couldn’t afford to be distracted by anything else. Despite all of the lies and trickery, his enemies would not dare do anything in full view of the four demon sponsors, for all the world to see.
With all of their demons present, Fletcher felt a sudden confidence in their chances. They had at least a dozen demons in all, varying in size from Tarquin’s Hydra, Trebius, to Rory’s yellow-shelled Mite.
He was able to observe Verity’s third demon, prowling just beneath her hovering Damsel. He eased his nerves by examining it.
It was an Enfield, a distant cousin to the Vulpid. It was smaller, only the size of a large dog, but with the head of a fox, forelegs of an eagle, the narrow chest of a greyhound and the hindquarters of a wolf. Its front talons were dangerously sharp, with tawny brown feathers interspersed among the red fur of its front and the grey of its back. An elegant demon on all accounts – just like its owner, Fletcher mused.
There was a light at the end of the tunnel, a dull red-orange glow that reminded Fletcher of the cave beneath the Warren. Mason, walking just behind the demons, held up a clenched fist. The summoners halted the advance, and Mason paced towards the light in a low crouch.
He stayed there for a moment, then returned, wild-eyed.
‘We’ve ’it the motherlode,’ he whispered. ‘Bloody thousands of ’em, piled up willynilly.’
‘Any goblins?’ Tarquin asked.
‘Not a one,’ Mason replied with a grin. ‘We’ll ’ave a few minutes to ourselves before we’re disturbed. Like shootin’ fish in a barrel.’
‘Let’s get this over with,’ Othello growled, hefting his battle-axe. ‘The rescuers will have taken off by now. Twenty minutes – in and out.’
With those words, the four teams charged towards the light.