Chapter Sixteen
“Now what?” Galladrin asked. He wrapped another piece of cloth around Borak’s arm. It was a crummy job, but it would have to do.
“I think we’re going to die,” Coragan replied, his voice a somber echo of their thoughts.
“If only we were that fortunate,” Borak said, even more grimly. The rogue glanced at him. The warrior’s face was a sullen mask of misery.
“You know, Borak. You’ve talked more tonight than you have since I first met you,” Galladrin said.
Borak shrugged. Apparently, his tongue had sought rest at last. Galladrin looked around at the surrounding mirrors, which, for the time being, seemed to be keeping the creatures away. To his right a lone window stood open to the sky. “We could try to climb down,” he suggested.
“Then they could find us again,” Borak said.
“Well, what should we do?” the rogue asked. The warrior was talking again. He wanted to see how long he would go.
“Wait ‘til sunrise,” Borak said. “Then leave.”
“No,” Coragan said. “I may be going to die, but I will not die a coward. Coragan of Esperia never runs. Regroup, regather, yes. Run, no. I say we grab a couple of these portable mirrors. I’ll get my crossbow reloaded, you keep those roses handy, and we hunt the bastards down.”
“Your tenacity is commendable, Coragan.” All three men jumped. Lucian stood in the doorway, just a pace from the rose. “But it is not you who will do the hunting tonight, my friend.”
“I’m not your friend, and I was born to be a hunter—tonight I’m hunting you.” Coragan pulled another bolt out, set it in place, and walked to within three paces of the man. He fired.
The man exploded in a cloud of mist billowing in the hall.
“Hah, that wasn’t so tough. Where’s the other one?”
Slowly, the mist began to writhe. It swirled and swirled, growing smaller and thinner, coalescing into a sinister shape. Two grey lights sprung forth, very much like eyes. Coragan backed away.
The figure shifted and twisted. It formed a body and head, then sprouted appendages. After several moments, Lucian stood in the doorway just as before. “As you can see,” he said, “you are powerless against me.”
“Yeah, well, you aren’t doing so great yourself.” Galladrin motioned to the surrounding walls. “Why don’t you come in? Have a look around? I’m sure you’ll like what you see.”
The man smiled and stared hard at Galladrin, “I would rather that you come out.”
Galladrin jerked as if struck by a blow. He shook his head, then started walking to the door murmuring senselessly to himself.
Almost immediately, the bounty hunter and warrior responded. Coragan tackled the rogue at the knees and Borak grabbed him by his shoulder. They wrestled Galladrin to the ground and pulled him toward the window.
The man at the door snarled, and then suddenly relaxed.
Galladrin jerked up, shaking his head, “What the Hell was that?”
“Some type of mind control, I suspect,” Coragan said, breathing hard.
Galladrin stood, then stumbled, landing heavily on his rear. “Perhaps I’ll just take a seat,” he said.
“Don’t worry, he did the same thing to me. It will pass after a few minutes.”
“I must say,” the man said, “you are rather strong of will. Almost a challenge, in fact. I actually have to concentrate to keep it on you.”
“Well, Lucian ... that is your name, correct?” Coragan said, then continued as the man nodded. “We seem to have a stalemate. We cannot harm you, nor can you us.”
“A stalemate? What a novel interpretation. Well, I daresay since I neither have to eat nor sleep, I suspect it will be a more comfortable stalemate on my part.”
“You forget the sun,” Borak said, stepping forward. “We shall be gone at first light.”
“Thus the wise one speaks! But this time he has erred. Did you really think that I would forget such an obvious obstacle? At this very moment, the storm clouds are gathering ... I’m afraid winter is coming early to the forest this year. You will be trapped.”
Galladrin whipped his head around to look out the window, then swore. Dark clouds were roiling in the night sky, rapidly growing and consuming stars. “We have to get out of here,” he said. “We are running out of time.”
Lucian chuckled. “You most certainly are.” There was a squeak at his feet and a small dark shape scurried into the chamber. “A stalemate is a precarious thing, for even the most subtle change of balance can shift the tide.” The rat stopped in the archway. It sniffed the air once then headed toward the rose. Clamping its teeth down on the stem, the rodent proceeded to drag the flower from Lucian’s path.
“Let’s get out of here!” Galladrin said.
Coragan reached for another quarrel, then stopped. He grimaced, as if the words he spoke tasted bitter in his mouth. “Perhaps you’re right.” For a long moment, the bounty hunter, his face covered with a frown, stood staring at the strange man.
Lucian stepped forward. His face twisted in pain and the first row of mirrors shattered, exploding into dust.
Coragan tore his eyes from Lucian as the man continued to advance. “Yeah, let’s leave while we still can.”
The second row of mirrors shattered. Galladrin knelt down to rummage through his pack again, looking for his rope. He managed a quick glance toward Lucian. The man had paused. Whatever he was doing was taking quite an effort: apparently, he needed to catch his breath.
Galladrin hooked the grapnel on the edge of the window sill and threw the coils out into the darkness. They spun through the night and made a soft thump when they hit the courtyard stones.
Coragan grabbed the rope. “Think you can handle the rear? We’ll want to keep Borak in the middle with his arm and all.”
“Sure,” Galladrin replied. Another row of mirrors shattered. Quick breather, he thought.
The bounty hunter backed out and disappeared over the edge. The rope went taut. Several moments later, he called up, signaling for Borak to proceed.
Borak grabbed the rope with his good hand, glanced back once at the approaching man, then turned his eyes toward Galladrin, weariness clearly marking his pale face.
“Are you sure you can make it?” Galladrin asked.
There was a resounding crash ... more mirrors.
“I don’t have much choice, do I?”
“Hurry, then,” Galladrin said, trying to remain calm.
Ever so slowly Borak eased over the edge gripping the rope with his functioning hand. He winced once, when his bandaged arm brushed the sill, but soon regained his composure. He nodded a final time to Galladrin, then, with muscles rippling, began his slow descent. Another row of mirrors shattered, then all was still.
“Galladrin,” Lucian intoned, “come to me.”
Galladrin froze, gripping the window sill. He could feel the evil touch, like fingers raking across his mind. It was cold, so cold ... and compelling. He turned around, then stopped, quivering from the effort. The man stared at him, will bent on dragging him forward. The rogue took another step.
Don’t look at him, he thought, and closed his eyes. Another step. Fight it! Damn it, fight it! He stopped, then forced himself around. The fingers tore into his mind and forced a cry of sheer agony from his lips. “No!” he screamed. “By the glory of the gods and everything sacred, no!”
He stumbled to the rope, every step a struggle.
“Come to me, Galladrin!” The command threatened to overwhelm him, to take up his soul and scour it away.
The rogue grabbed a small mirror and threw it at the man. Lucian recoiled and smashed it with his fist. The fingers loosened, then disappeared.
Galladrin pulled out another rose. After this, he had only one more. He went to place it on the sill, then hesitated.
“Come on, Galladrin,” Coragan called from below. “Hurry!”
He stole his gaze about the room until he spied the rat. It was still there, scuttling about
in the corner. The mirrors started exploding again, and he knew Lucian was getting nearer. Galladrin tore a strip of cloth off his ruined shirt and looped it about the rose. A moment later, he secured the other end to a cracked rock near the window’s apex. The rose hung, suspended. It whipped back and forth in the growing breeze, but, hopefully, it would hold. He crawled out onto the sill, careful to avoid knocking the flower from its station. Then, he dropped his knees over the side and started down.
Looking beneath him, Galladrin spied Coragan and his heart leaped into his throat. The bounty hunter had frozen, staring to Galladrin’s right, his mouth trying to voice a silent scream. The rogue looked. And there she was.
They were face to face, separated by barely half a foot. Clarissa’s hands gripped the castle stones like bestial claws, and she hung to his right like a giant insect. She had been crawling, face first, along the castle wall in hopes of coming on him unawares. She had succeeded. “Greetings, Galladrin,” she said, her face twisting into a diabolical grin. “Time to die.” She loosened one hand free and reached for his throat. In response, Galladrin let his hands go limp and the thick hemp rope slid between his fingers.
The rogue dropped like a stone, plummeting toward the ground nearly thirty feet beneath him. Halfway there he closed his fist, and winced. The rope tore into his hand like a saw into wood. He slowed, and stopped, landing gently on the ground, but his hand was covered in blood. He ignored it. “To the horses,” he said, then broke into a run.
Drasmyr (Prequel: From the Ashes of Ruin) Page 29