Sullivan, Michael J. - Riyria Omnibus 03 - Heir of Novron by Sullivan Michael J

Author:Sullivan, Michael J [Sullivan, Michael J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780316187718
Amazon: 0316187712
Publisher: Orbit
Published: 2012-01-31T05:00:00+00:00

The hole was not on the summit of the hill.

Hadrian had watched as Magnus and Royce had located the passage, each coming at it from a different direction. Royce traced Ghazel tracks and Magnus followed what he called the sound of an underground hollow. They came together down the back side of the slope, where the angle grew steep and dangerous. A patch of trees and thick thorny brambles wreathed what appeared to be a minor depression. The only clue that something more lurked there was the faint echo of falling water.

“Looks slippery,” Mauvin said as they all gathered on the icy ridge above. “Who’s going first?”

Before anyone could answer, Royce appeared carrying a heavy coil of rope, wearing his climbing harness and slipping on his hand-claws—brass wraps with sharpened hooks that jutted out of his palms. Hadrian helped him get situated; then Royce lay on his stomach and inched along, leaving a trough in the soft snow as he eased off the ridge.

As he started down the slope, Royce began to slide. He tried to get a grip, but his hands and claws found only snow. He picked up speed like a sled and Hadrian worked at taking up the slack in the rope. Then Royce crashed through the thickets and disappeared from view. Mauvin joined Hadrian on the rope, which was now as taut as a bowstring.

“Get the end,” Hadrian ordered. “Tie it to that tree.”

Magnus moved to grab the line.

“No, not you!” Hadrian shouted, and the dwarf scowled. Hadrian looked to the next-closest person. “Wyatt, could you tie the end off?”

The sailor grabbed the end of the rope and dragged it around the base of the little birch.

“How ya doing, Royce?” Hadrian called.

“Dangling,” Royce replied. “Pretty slick up there. Give me some slack.”

They stood in a circle, each keeping a safe distance, all of them standing on their toes, trying to see down. Overhead, the winter clouds made it hard to tell the time. There was no sun, just a vague gray light that filled the sky, leaving everything murky and drained of color. Hadrian guessed they had only four hours of light left.

Mauvin and Hadrian let out the rope until it hung from the tree, although Hadrian continued to hold on to it just the same. He could not see Royce and stared instead at the thin rope. It too was mostly lost, buried in the snow, leaving only a telltale mark.

“Can you reach the bottom?”

“How much rope do we have?” Royce’s voice returned like an echo from the bottom of a well.

Hadrian looked at Arista.

“Ten coils of fifty feet each,” she replied. “All told, there should be five hundred feet’s worth,” she shouted, tilting her head up a bit as if throwing her voice into the hole.

“Not half good enough,” Royce replied.

“That’s a deep hole,” Hadrian said.

The rope shifted and twisted at the edge.

“What’re you doing, buddy?”

“Trying something.”

“Something stupid?”

“Maybe.” He sounded winded.

The rope stopped moving and went slack.

“Royce?” Hadrian called.

No answer.

“Royce?”

“Relax,” came his reply. “This might work.

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