Towers of Midnight (The Wheel of Time #13)

Towers of Midnight (The Wheel of Time #13) Page 275

Light! There were dozens of Eelfinn in the room. Shifting, moving about, dancing into the light, then jumping back into the dark. Some were casual, others energetic. All looked dangerous.

“Will you bargain?” one asked.

“You come without treaty. Dangerous,” said another.

“Son of battles.”

“The savor!”

“Feel his fear.”

“Come with us. Leave your terrible light.”

“A bargain must be made. We will wait.”

“Patient we are. Ever patient.”

“The savor!”

“Stop it!” Mat bellowed. “No bargains! Not until we reach the center.”

At his side, Thom lowered the flute. “Mat. I don’t think the music is working anymore.”

Mat nodded curtly. He needed Thom ready with weapons. The gleeman tucked away his flute, getting out knives. Mat ignored the whispering voices and tossed the dice onto the ground.

As they rolled, a figure scuttled from the darkness beside the nearest pillar. Mat cursed, lowering his spear and striking at the Eelfinn, which moved across the ground on all fours. But his blade passed right through it, as if it were smoke.

Was it an illusion? A trick of the eyes? Mat hesitated long enough for another creature to snatch the dice and leap back toward the shadows. Something sparkled in the air. Thom’s dagger found its mark, striking the creature in the shoulder. This time the blade pierced and stayed, releasing a spray of dark blood.

Iron, Mat thought, cursing his stupidity. He spun the ashandarei around, using the side banded with iron. He shivered as he saw the Eelfinn’s blood on the ground begin to steam. White steam, as in the other chambers, but this had shapes in it. They looked like twisted faces, appearing briefly and yelling before vanishing.

Burn them! He couldn’t get distracted. He had other dice. He reached for his pocket, but an Eelfinn ducked from the shadows, as if to grab at his coat.

Mat spun his weapon, striking the side of the fox male’s face with the banded iron. He crushed bone, tossing the creature to the side like a bundle of sticks.

Hisses and growls surrounded them. Eyes shifted in the darkness, reflecting torchlight. The Eelfinn moved, cloaked in blackness, surrounding Mat and the others. Mat cursed, taking a step in the direction of the Eelfinn he had struck.

“Mat!” Thom said, grabbing the cuff of his coat. “We can’t wade into that.”

Mat hesitated. It seemed that the stink from before was stronger, the scent of beasts. Shadows moved all about, more frantic now, their whispers angry and mixed with yipping calls.

“They control the darkness,” Noal said. He stood with his back to Mat and Thom, wary. “Those yellow lights are to distract us; there are breaks in them and sheltered alcoves. It’s all a trick.”

Mat felt his heart beating rapidly. A trick? No, not just a trick. There was something unnatural about the way those creatures moved in the shadow. “Burn them,” Mat said, shaking Thom’s hand free but not chasing into the darkness.

“Gentlemen,” Noal said. “Gather arms….”

Mat glanced over his shoulder. There were Eelfinn stalking from the shadows behind them, a double wave, one group sliding on all fours before a second group. The second group carried those wicked-looking bronze knives.

The shadows from the depths of the room seemed to be extending with the Eelfinn, closing on Mat and his group. His heart beat even faster.

The Eelfinn eyes shone, and those on all fours began to lope forward. Mat swung as the Eelfinn reached his group, but they split, ducking to the sides. Distracting him.

Behind! Mat thought with alarm. Another group of Eelfinn jumped out of the darkness there.

Mat turned on them, swinging. They ducked back before he hit. Light! They were all around, seething out of the darkness, coming close enough to be dangerous, then backing away.

Thom whipped out a pair of daggers, throwing, and Noal kept his shortsword at the ready, waving his torch with his other hand, his banded staff on the floor at his feet. One of Thom’s knives flashed, seeking flesh, but missed and passed into the darkness.

“Don’t waste knives!” Mat said. “Bloody sons of goats, they’re trying to make you waste them, Thom!”

“They’re harrying us,” Noal growled. “They’ll overwhelm us eventually. We have to move!”

“Which way?” Thom asked, urgent. He cursed as a pair of Eelfinn appeared from the shadows carrying bronze-ended lances. They thrust forward, forcing Mat, Thom, and Noal to back away.

No time for dice. They would just snatch those anyway. Mat yanked open his pack and pulled out a nightflower. “Once this goes off, I’m going to close my eyes and spin about.”

“What?” Thom said.

“It’s worked before!” Mat said, lighting the nightflower and throwing it as hard as he could into the darkness. There was a count of five, and the boom that followed rattled the room. All three of them averted their eyes, but the colorful flash was bright enough to see through eyelids.

Eelfinn screamed in pain, and Mat distinctly heard pings as weapons were dropped. No doubt hands were raised to eyes.

“Here we go!” Mat said, spinning.

“This is flaming insane,” Thom said.

Mat kept going, trying to feel for it. Where was that luck? “That way!” he said, pointing in a random direction.

He opened his eyes in time to leap over the dark form of an Eelfinn huddling on the ground. Noal and Thom followed, and Mat led them straight into the darkness. He charged ahead until his friends were barely visible. All he could see were those lines of yellow.

Oh, bloody ashes, he thought. If my luck fails me now….

They burst into a five-sided corridor, the darkness vanishing around them. They had not been able to see this corridor from the other room, but here it was.

Thom let out a whoop. “Mat, you wood-headed shepherd! For this, I’ll let you play my harp!”

“I don’t want to play your bloody harp,” Mat said, glancing over his shoulder. “But you can buy me a mug or two when we’re out.”

He heard screams and screeches from the dark room. That was one trick used up; they would be expecting nightflowers now. Birgitte, you were right, he thought. You probably walked past the corridor you needed several times, never knowing it was only a few feet away.

Never choose the card a man wants you to. Mat should have realized that. It was one of the oldest cons in creation. They hastened forward, passing five-sided doorways leading into large star-shaped caverns. Thom and Noal glanced into them, but Mat kept on. Straight forward. This was the wa