That was all it took to reveal a crude, uncharted shaft leading to the underground. Once again, Clevwrith proved to be harboring a few surprises up his sleeve.
Not hesitating even a moment, Clevwrith grasped her by the nape of her neck and thrust her down into the shaft.
She half-dived, half-fell into the chasm below, grasping desperately with her senses to determine where she was beneath the Cob. Was this a frequented tunnel she simply hadn’t known could be accessed from above?
Clevwrith dropped in behind her, his hand finding the small of her back to steer her through the darkness. The twists and turns registered with vague familiarity, until all at once Despiris recognized the path – and Clevwrith’s plan. They were en route to the chamber of mirrors; if they couldn’t outrun the beast on their tail, they could at least lose it in the disorienting multitude of reflections.
It had taken Despiris the better part of the day to find her way out of maze after Clevwrith had abandoned her to it.
Thank the gods he had no intention of abandoning her now. His guiding touch slipped fleetingly from the small of her back, but only to snatch up her hand, his fingers entwining tightly with hers.
Scrambling through the underground, the fleeing Shadhi strove blindly for the saving grace of that maze, their panting breaths filling the dark. A heavy whoosh announced their hunter dropping into the ground behind them, ever in close pursuit. For a brief moment, Despiris hoped to lose the beast in the dark, and then a horrifying thought occurred to her – whatever it was, it was probably nocturnal. Chances were, it could see in the dark better than she or Clevwrith could.
Fortunately, Clevwrith was still one step ahead. Despiris balked as his fingers left hers, but it was only a moment before a light flared past an archway to illuminate her destination same as it had upon her first visit.
Despiris lurched toward the light, the beast scuttling and scraping and rasping somewhere in the dark behind her. Stumbling past the threshold toward safety, Despiris was met instead by the same disorientation they intended to exact upon the beast; Clevwrith’s reflection was projected everywhere she looked. How was she supposed to know which way to go?
She should have paid more attention during the hours she spent finding her way out of this mess.
“Clevwrith!” she cried, voice pinched with terror. She had never heard such fear in her own voice before. Trying to curb her panic, she forced herself to keep moving, feeling her way into the chamber until her reflection sprang up all around her. If the beast was right behind her, it would at least have to choose between her many glass decoys. Struggling to quiet her labored breathing, she moved slowly through the maze, hoping for the miracle that would be evading the beast while at the same time locating Clevwrith.
Suddenly, the image of the creature joined the crowd of replicas, the many angles providing Despiris with a thorough look at the thing. Her heart jumped into her throat at the sight of it, with its devilish, horn-topped face and high-arcing, bat-like wings. Despiris instantly thought of the gargoyles atop the old cathedral, but this entity manifested in the form of dark, rubbery flesh rather than stone, nearly black but highlighted in deep shades of purple. Its body was human-shaped but overtly muscular, a killing machine of chiseled sinew standing over six feet tall. Solid black, soulless eyes prowled for the creature’s prey, long gray-black fangs overlapping its violet-tinged lips.
Where in the gods’ names had a creature like this come from?
Around every turn, adrenaline spiked through Des’s veins as she thought she’d run into the gargoyle, unable to avoid its ghoulish reflection. She encountered Clevwrith, too, but his likeness vanished as often as it bombarded her, as if he knew intricate secrets of the maze to keep out of sight. And judging by his purposeful stride in her glimpses of him, he had a plan and seemed to be traveling a specific course.
What’s the end game, Clevwrith? Could he not have given her some clue before disappearing into the maze? She was left to fumble about, moving painfully slowly lest she start crashing into mirrors and alert the gargoyle to her whereabouts from the ruckus alone.
Curse Clevwrith for not showing her this chamber sooner! Memorizing the layout would have been decidedly helpful right about now. Finding her way out once had done nothing to solidify the pattern in her head. It had just been one long day of trial and error and luck.
Now, luck might not be enough. If Clevwrith’s plan didn’t become evident soon, Despiris was going to have to take matters into her own hands. Smash a mirror so she could use the shards for weapons, perhaps, or–
She flinched as three of Clevwrith suddenly passed her from different directions. Only one appeared to be sliding by on a one-dimensional, glassy surface. The other two, she could have sworn were real.
Then they were gone, and Despiris sidestepped into a dizzying sector where the gargoyle advanced from nearly a dozen different directions. But, just as quickly, all the duplicates winked out, then appeared stalking away from her with their winged backs turned.
Rotating uncertainly, Despiris treaded backward into yet another mind-boggling display where both Clevwrith and the creature crossed her path heading toward one another, but bypassed each other unaware. How long could this delicate dance last?
A snarl from somewhere in the chamber sent Despiris’s blood slinging once again through her veins, her first fear that the gargoyle had encountered Clevwrith. But only a second, more drawn-out guttural growl followed, suggesting the creature was merely frustrated with the landscape, his patience running thin.
Thank the gods. Clevwrith was still safe–
A terrible shattering sound rang suddenly throughout the chamber. Then another.
The horror returned. Despiris glanced quickly around for a glimpse of the gargoyle, finding its image in a pane over her left shoulder. The creature had taken to smashing mirrors, striking every moving target it encountered since it couldn’t distinguish between them.
Hell.
Fear gripped Despiris tight, a strangling, frantic feeling she didn’t know how to process. She couldn’t escape it, couldn’t stuff it away in a corner, couldn’t even convince herself it was thrilling. As she listened to her cover being shattered one mirror after another, all she wanted to do was run. Without a destination and without looking back, and without heed for the fragile glass obstacle course around her.
Only a thin margin of sense kept her from bolting, warning her she’d likely just topple the panes like dominos and end up in a bloody heap impaled by jagged shards. But it took everything in her to rein in the overpowering urge, the restrained adrenaline making her feel like she might explode at any moment. It was like a keening teapot gaining volume in her head, rising to a crescendo she did not think she could contain.
What now?
She was startled near out of her wits as arms slid around her from behind, but she turned to find Clevwrith rather than any beast ready to devour her.
Relief was such an opposite extreme to the terror that she went a little weak-kneed at the sight of him.
Catching her, Clevwrith pulled her snuggly to him. “Sshh,” crooned his whisper in her ear. His arms were safety, her confidence that the Master of the Shadows had a plan all she needed to let the better part of her terror go.
Still, she couldn’t help flinching when a mirror shattered much closer to their location than the last.
“Listen to me,” Clevwrith whispered. “Do you remember the dance on the rooftops, the night you became Shadhi?”
Bewildered, Despiris nodded.
“The steps will get you through the maze, but only if begun at the entrance. I am halfway through the dance. We will do the next move together, and then I will send you off to complete it. But don’t underestimate the power of illusion; the mirrors will throw you off track, make you second-guess and alter steps even when you know better. So do it with your eyes closed. Do you understand?”
A second nod followed the first.
“Don’t open your eyes, De
s,” Clevwrith warned one last time, and then he made his move. He side-stepped with her in his embrace, then spun her according to the sequence. Letting her eyelids fall shut, Despiris flowed seamlessly into the dance, whirling two and a half circles exactly.
And just like that, they were separated again. Curse fate for seeing them at the part of the sequence that required they dance apart, when all she wanted was the comfort of his arms.
It was all she could do to tamp down the roar of her fear enough to recall the dance steps. She glided to the left, sidestepped at a diagonal five steps rapidly, ducked backward, then spun right. Her heart raced as she whirled over shattered glass strewn across the ground, her eyelids nearly flying open as she envisioned herself running squarely into the ransacking beast.
But, No, she commanded herself, sticking to Clevwrith’s orders. She couldn’t afford to be thrown off. She had to get out of this trap.
As glass shattered throughout the chamber – once even raining down around her from an adjacent pane – she gave herself to the dance, entrancing her mind back into a tranquil void that would serve her, rather than condemn her. Fear is an illusion – only a possibility of what could be. Reality is in each moment.
And a moment is all it takes to change things.
She flew through the last steps of the dance with renewed confidence, and as she finished, she found herself returned to Clevwrith’s embrace. Her eyes flashed open to find his face, just to be sure, despite the telling scent of sandalwood, that it was him.
They were back at the entryway to the chamber, the rampant gargoyle still making a mess of things somewhere in the middle of the maze.
Had Clevwrith been right behind her the whole time? She’d felt so alone, but it was probably like he’d said – the illusions cast by a hundred mirrors played inevitable tricks on the mind, making her think they were worlds apart when they’d merely twirled a few steps away from one another.
Releasing her immediately, Clevwrith ushered her through the archway. Despiris needed no encouraging, vanishing back into the catacombs from whence they had come. Clevwrith’s fingers found hers again, pulling her through the dark. Soon a vague blush of moonlight created a beacon up ahead, and they were back at the gap they’d unearthed to take the chase under the street.
Clevwrith hoisted her up through the portal, and she helped him climb out from above. Then they hurriedly replaced the stones, trapping the gargoyle underground. While there was nothing about loose stones that would stand in the way of a beast muscled like that, each delay they arranged would be precious time they could devote to escaping or hiding.
Or so they thought, until an eruption of stone announced the gargoyle bursting up through the ground about a dozen paces down the alley. He hadn’t even bothered to use the existing access point.
A shower of crumbled pavement strewed in every direction, the beast gouging gashes in its flesh as it strained up through the crude opening. As soon as its wings popped free, it flapped them hard to pull the rest of its body out.
Clevwrith stood in a rush to flee, and Despiris scrambled after him. But the creature leaped for a shop sign protruding over an old door, grasping the rod and propelling itself after her.
Despiris fell with a lurch onto her stomach, only realizing from a frantic glance over her shoulder that the beast had caught her ankle in its jaws. Pain erupted where fang punctured boot, but it didn’t hold a candle to the agony that came as the creature clutched at her leg with its finger-length claws, ‘climbing’ its way up her body.
Despiris screamed, unable to tell the difference between her breeches and flesh going to tatters.
Although he should have been halfway down the alley, Clevwrith came charging back into her peripheral vision. Knives came out of his sleeves, then his belt, flying with deadly precision to embed themselves into the beast’s rubbery flesh. A fourth blade, then a fifth, appeared from secret sheaths Despiris didn’t even know about, and by that time he had reached her side.
The gargoyle released Despiris, but did not seem much ailed by its wounds. It glared at Clevwrith with its hateful, demonic black gaze, snarling as it turned its furor on him.
But the Shadowmaster was equally not dissuaded. Unflinching, he tackled the gargoyle.
Man and beast wrestled across the ground, the gargoyle’s wings crumpling beneath its bulky form. Its wicked claws slashed at Clevwrith’s death grip around its neck, dragging the Spylord off its back and down underneath its terrifying form.
Despiris tried and failed to get to her feet, pain pulsing from her heel up to her hip. She clutched at her belt, drawing the blade she’d hoped not to have to use. She had two more besides, but seeing as stab wounds seemed to register as little more than pinpricks to the burly demon ravaging Clevwrith, she had little hope of even getting its attention.
Still, she hurled the blade with all her might, and it caught the creature in the shoulder.
Momentarily, it flicked its attention to her. And that was all Clevwrith needed to get a grip on his blades and plunge them, one after the other, straight up into the monster’s heart. Dark blood spurted from the beast’s chest, gushing down over Clevwrith’s form. He averted his face as the creature collapsed onto him, a pained grunt escaping him as he became pinned.
Lurching awkwardly to one foot, Despiris hobbled forward, falling to her knees to push at the gargoyle’s bulk. At first it was like pushing a brick wall, but finding her hold and bracing herself, she managed to heave the creature off of Clevwrith.
It rolled with a slop into the puddle of its own blood, and Despiris saw that it wasn’t yet dead. Guttural growls of pain escaped with each fading breath, its black eyes half-lidded and lolling.
Clevwrith struggled to hands and knees, a splatter of violet blood creating a primal mark across his face. Crawling away from his mangled opponent, he climbed gingerly to his feet, catching his breath as he turned to behold the carnage. Panting next to him, Despiris followed his gaze.
All but defeated themselves, they stood watching as the beast died. Finally, it took its last grating breath, its chest going absolutely still.
The threat gone, Clevwrith reached backward for the support of the alley wall, sinking back to the ground. Without adrenaline coursing through her veins, Despiris was discovering a similar exhaustion. She let herself down near him, crawling closer with her throbbing leg stretched out behind her.
“Clevwrith?” she croaked, voice shaking. “Are you okay?”
Letting his eyes fall shut, he rested his head against the wall behind him, nodding vaguely. But his pained expression told her it wasn’t entirely true.
Despiris found herself at a loss, not knowing what to do, where to start. She had never seen him like this before. Exhausted. Hurt. Distress written all across his body. Violence splashed across his face. Every dark and wild pastime paled in comparison to the grit of what they had just experienced.
Warm, shuddering tears welled up and spilled out of her all at once. She couldn’t say if it was relief, or trauma, or the terrifying new reality that dethroned Clevwrith as the unshakable savior she’d always believed him to be.
It was wrong, seeing him this like this. He was supposed to be invincible. And if he wasn’t, that would just be one more thread of everything she believed, everything she lived by, unraveling around her.
Yet it didn’t subtract from the fact that he’d risked everything to save her. That he’d bloodied himself keeping her from the same harm. That he would have sacrificed himself without a second thought to see her spared the same fate.
Despiris looked at him with an agonizing gratitude, deciding the rest could wait. They were alive – that was all that mattered.
Resting her fingers on his arm, her touch drew open his eyes. He gazed back at her with an ache that mirrored her own, and while Despiris wasn’t sure yet how to sort out all her feelings, she saw his culminate into something behind his eyes. In that moment, he realized something.
An echo of it stirred ins
ide her, but she couldn’t pin it down. And then her pulsing wounds raked her back over the coals of reality. With a hiss, she turned to address her leg. Parting the nearest slit in her pantleg, she found a deep gash bleeding beneath.
“Come on,” Clevwrith said. “Let’s get you looked at.”
“What about you?” Despiris asked as he rose and helped her gingerly to her feet. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine,” Clevwrith said.
But he wasn’t fine. He was shaken. His gaze cheated back to the gargoyle lying dead in the alley, unable to ignore it for long. Approaching the corpse, he crouched to retrieve his knives.
“Where does something like that come from?” Despiris asked grimly.
Clevwrith gave a vague shake of his head, taking in the macabre details of the monster before them. “From hell,” was all he could come up with.
18
Intrigue and Intrusion
“Don’t always take the easy way out just because you can,” went a favorite rule of Clevwrith’s. “Use such opportunities to make sure you know how to think. When it’s already easy, make it difficult. Then conquer it.”
*
“Are you sure you have not just unleashed a wild beast upon Fairoway to prowl and hunt and do with his freedom as he wills?” Isavor asked as the Lord Advisor stared out over the city through one of the towering throne room windows. He’d been at it for hours, anxious for the creature’s return.
“I oversaw the test runs myself,” Mosscrow all but snapped. Every hour his brilliant scheme failed to produce the results he expected, he became decidedly more on edge. “Medagio was quite up to the task of sniffing out each culprit based solely on the whiff he attained from the corresponding tokens that bore their scents.”
“Yes, but all we had of the Shadowmaster’s was the note she left upon my desk, scrawled upon my own stationary, ripped into miniscule pieces by you. Hardly a personal handkerchief saturated exclusively and overwhelmingly in her scent.”
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