Lost Gods by Yongo Micah

Author:Yongo, Micah [Yongo, Micah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Adult, Fantasy, Epic Fantasy, Angry Robot, Assassins
Amazon: B07CT8QCFD
Goodreads: 34804767
Publisher: Angry Robot
Published: 2018-04-05T06:00:00+00:00

Twenty-Four

R O B B E R

As it often is, the way back seemed quicker, as though the tunnel had shortened. They quickly found themselves scrambling up the cool stone steps and making their way toward the doorway at the top where the ranger waited. Neythan was carrying the torch in one hand and the battered roll of vellum in the other. Caleb, at his side, trying to keep up, hopped up the steps in twos, his fist thrust deep into his pocket clasping the amulet and chain. The stairway curved upwards into the airy cold until they arrived to find Yevhen still at the top, squatting on the first step like some grim beggar.

“Finally… I was of a mind to come down after you.”

“A thousand pardons,” Caleb said. “The swaddling of the dead makes heavy work. Feel free to go down and see for yourself.”

The ranger ignored him. His tongue danced nervously behind his teeth as he gathered to the torchlight. “So. Do you have it?”

“The amulet? Yes. We do.” Caleb lifted it from his pocket and held it up. “And a pretty little thing it is.”

The ranger smiled hungrily. “Let me see.”

Caleb handed it to Neythan. Neythan looked at it and held it out to Yevhen. The ranger squinted, his eyes still adjusting; he’d been sitting there for over an hour in the dark. He took the amulet, stood by Neythan and the torch, and examined the jewel carefully, before, with obvious relief, exhaling and smiling again. He looked at Neythan and Caleb. “I thank you.”

“You’ll have your chance to do so,” Neythan said. “When you show us the tailor’s dwellings.”

The ranger nodded, still smiling. “Indeed I shall. Now, let’s be gone from here.”

He took the torch from Neythan to return it to the fixture on the wall by the door. And then, before lifting it to its place, doused it with a damp rag stowed in his hand, putting out the light, turning everything dark.

“What are you–?”

Neythan heard the blow and the gasped grunt and soft muffled tumble of weight and limbs at his side.

“Caleb!”

The door swung open, a brief blink of waning day into the stepped shaft, the ranger running out, Caleb behind, sprawled on the steps, groaning.

“Caleb.”

“Go…” Caleb’s voice was weak. “I’m alright… go after him.”

Neythan fumbled for the closing door and pulled it open. The evening lamps of the foyer glared brightly. He squinted to see the ranger sprinting away along the promenade by the atrium.

He looked back into the shaft. Caleb, bloodied head, breathing hard, trying to lift himself.

“Go,” the old man commanded weakly.

Neythan went out into the back foyer. The atrium was to his right. He could see the ranger running along the arcade – darker now, the sun setting – and turning into the corridor on the other side. Neythan ran into the open, across and through the atrium and beside the reflecting pool to try and cut him off.

“You there!” The guard on the roof. “You! Stop!”

Neythan ran on to the

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