Saber and Shadow by S.M. Stirling & Shirley Meier

Author:S.M. Stirling & Shirley Meier [Stirling, S.M. & Meier, Shirley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Science Fiction, Fantasy
ISBN: 9780671721435
Publisher: Baen
Published: 1992-01-01T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

The mildewed lattice, swollen and heavy with dampness, took the two of them to wrench loose. As it swung back with a crash and the raw, sharp smell of urine and rotting garbage welled up, Megan looked at Shkai'ra.

"So, these are the sewers. Why aren't I glad that we've reached them?" She eased the grating down and followed Shkai'ra into the rough brick shaft. The stream of water from the drainage channel fanned out in the cracks in the wall, running cold over one hand and trailing down her forearm. The way was closed behind them, even if the priests delayed in following their monster.

Shkai'ra was moving down the wooden handholds as quickly as caution allowed. "Hurry. They group around the waste chutes."

"They?"

"Come on!"

A rung gave way under her foot, loosened by the heavier woman's weight; Shkai'ra had just set her feet on solid stone when Megan's cry of "Look out!" came down the shaft.

Megan followed, coiling out of a ball to land on her feet. Her legs absorbed the impact of her weight, but the force other landing was still enough to drive a small sound from her lungs.

As she rose from her crouch, Shkai'ra's eyes and teeth gleamed in the darkness. "Who do you steal from—the deaf?" she whispered. Her voice scurried around the tunnel, sibilant and cut by the drip of water and a rustling noise in the distance.

"We have time for jokes, heavy one?"

"No—follow me."

They edged along the narrow path barely wide enough to stand on, the sluggish now of water only inches from where they stood. The darkness was not quite black; enough reflected light filtered through to suggest an oily sheen on the rippling surface but not enough to guide the feet.

"Do we nave to swim through this?" Megan choked. The stench was heavy, palpable, not raw as it had been in the shaft, but oily and rancid, clinging to the inside of nose and throat like the scent of overripe bananas. She twitched as something multilegged and slimy dropped from the ceiling and crawled down her cheek.

"Nai," Shkai'ra said, dropping back into her native language. The slow drip and splash of the water had changed slightly, sounding against something other than stone or water, a hollower sound. "There are canoes for the repair crews," she continued, guiding Megan's hand to the side of a small dugout. Quick, we're not safe yet."

"This is so difficult to see that you have to tell me?" They pushed off into the current. Shkai'ra set a relentless pace, pushing the paddle deep into the thick fluid. "Paddle hard," she gasped. "But don't let your hands touch the water." Megan labored to match the taller woman's stroke. "Stop making… dark… hints… and tell," she breathed, matching word to effort.

At that moment, a heavy crunching twitch struck at her paddle; the sensation reminded her of a fish striking at a hook. She raised the suddenly heavy paddle, twitching and jerking in her hands. Straining through the dimness, she could make out a small wiggling shape.

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