Sword and Sorceress 28

by Unknown

  “I heard them plotting.” Shada moved to block him. “I’m not crazy.”

  It was said time ran differently in the Passages. Was it possible that an hour there had been weeks here? But even that wouldn’t explain her presence at the Blessing.

  Had deGroat cast a spell while she was in the Passages? Perhaps his plot was already in motion.

  Shada turned and ran, as bells pealed across the Citadel.

  ~o0o~

  Shada angled away from the royal chambers, cutting through the rooms behind King’s Hall. She opened a door and stopped dead.

  She was staring at herself.

  This second Shada wore an emerald-studded dress the color of her eyes. Her hair, brushed out and radiantly blond, fell perfectly to her shoulders. A necklace of violet gemstones encircled her throat. She was beautiful.

  Shada stood frozen, as if in a dream. She felt a punishing wistfulness, like she was looking at something wonderful that had been hers, but she’d long ago mislaid.

  Five young soldiers, joking and laughing, vied for her double’s attention. Shada knew all of them vaguely. They seemed to be having such a good time.

  And if you see yourself, run.

  This doppelganger had nothing to do with deGroat. Shada had created it herself, by staying too long in the Passages. It had tried to murder her and now it had taken her place.

  A mixture of fear and anger rose like bile in her throat. She was going to make this creature terribly sorry it had chosen her for its game.

  Bells chimed. Four soldiers headed through the opposite door, her double following. One boy remained. She tried to remember his name. Westin Charles.

  She let the others depart then slipped inside. “Westin.”

  “Princess?” He blinked in the direction her double had left.

  She drew him away from the door, feeling acutely aware of what a mess she looked. “How long have I been acting strangely?”

  “Strangely?” His gaze took in her clothes, her hair. “What happened?”

  “The girl you were flirting with tried to kill me,” Shada said. “How long have I been dressing like my sister?”

  Westin stared into her eyes. It was inappropriate and unnerving but she needed an answer.

  “Since the Solstice Blessing.”

  The vine girl had taken over Shada’s life for a fortnight and no one had noticed.

  “It’s a changeling from the Passages,” she said. “Pretending to be me.”

  “Princess Shada.” Westin looked at her too intently. “Forgive me, but how am I to know that she, rather than you, is the imposter?”

  Shada registered this like a punch to the throat. “She’s that convincing?”

  “Utterly.”

  “Ask me about things we’ve done together.”

  “She knows all that. We were joking yesterday about last year’s tournaments.”

  Shada felt a new sort of fear, a fist of ice at the base of her spine. The vine girl had her memories as well as her aspect?

  But Westin believed her, Shada realized, and then she understood why. “You like her.” Her laugh sounded like a sob. “You never liked me. That’s the difference.”

  Westin reddened. “I’m yours to command, of course.”

  She didn’t want someone to command. But she’d take what she could get. “Keep watch in case she circles back. I’m going to grab a sword from the storeroom. Then we’ll tell Gregory what you’ve seen.”

  Shada found a sabre, tried to remove more soot from her face before a filthy mirror, and then raced back.

  The room was empty.

  “Westin?” she whispered.

  A pile of material in the corner hadn’t been there when she left. Shada poked at it, revealing the remains of a chainmail shirt doused in red goo. And beneath that bones. And a skull.

  Westin’s skull.

  Shada couldn’t breathe.

  Behind her, a footfall. She turned to face her doppelganger.

  “What I don’t understand,” the lovely Shada said, “is why you don’t look like that. The flowers had you.”

  Shada stared into her own face. The dreamlike confusion felt like vertigo, like an earthquake affecting only her. “Who are you?”

  “Shada. Daughter of Sisco.” The imposter smiled. “Princess of St. Navarre.”

  “That may work on everyone else, but given that I’m—”

  “You’re no one.” The vine girl carried no weapon but moved like a predator, light-footed and silent. “Perhaps you were Shada, once upon a time, but you’ve been careless.”

  Shada couldn’t deny it. Now Westin was dead and a monster wearing her face was loose in the Citadel. She raised the saber. “Westin was my friend. I generally don’t like killing unarmed—whatever you are. But in your case I’ll make an exception.”

  “The boy was your subject. I made him your friend.” The vine girl raised her hands. “And I’m not unarmed.”

  For a second split like a lightning stroke the girl vanished and the doll of vine and flower stood in her place. Then Shada’s mirror image returned, vomiting vines from her mouth.

  Shada slashed laterally, severing vines and flowers. But creepers darted past her guard, coiling about her forearms, circling her waist. She dropped the saber.

  White flowers pressed tight against her. She gasped—this was how Westin had been dissolved so quickly. Her arms and legs trembled in panic.

  The flowers opened.

  Shada screamed. The doppelganger looked about. She must realize a scream yards away from King’s Hall would bring the entire Guard.

  The vines recoiled back into the mask-like face.

  Heart pounding, Shada ran.

  ~o0o~

  Shada didn’t stop until she neared her own quarters. She couldn’t fight the doppelganger alone. She hated to admit it, but there was only one person she could turn to.

  She found her sister at her desk.

  “Shada.” Sienna barely looked up. “Nice hair.”

  Shada took a deep breath. “Before Solstice Blessing I entered the Passages to spy on deGroat but a doppelganger formed and tried to kill me with acid-spitting flowers but I escaped but now it’s two weeks later and she’s taken my place and you all think she’s me.”

  Sienna turned back to her paperwork. “I figured as much.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Not the acid flowers.” Sienna signed a document. “But you and I have gotten on famously for a fortnight. You’re polite and thoughtful and do what you’re told. My theory was demonic possession.”

  Some of the awful tension within Shada eased. Sienna knew her; everything else would fall into place. “Gregory doesn’t know.”

  “I couldn’t prove it so I haven’t told anyone.”

  Shada swallowed her pride. “I need your help.”

  “The Mages should be able to figure out something.” Sienna’s brows knitted. “But Gregory’s quite taken with the new you. You need to stay—”

  The doors burst open. Red-cloaked guardsmen poured into the room.

  “No!” Sienna leapt up. “Swords down.”

  “Swords will be lowered,” Gregory marched through the doors, “When the imposter is dead.”

  Twelve blades ringed Shada. “Then bring her here. I’m Shada, as Sienna can attest.”

  “This is my sister.” Sienna glared at Gregory.

  “It’s as you feared,” Gregory said over his shoulder. “The vine toxin has clouded Sienna’s mind.”

  The vine princess strode into the room, a picture of regal authority in her emerald gown and short sword. Her furious gaze fell on Shada. “This creature murdered Westin.”

  The long mirror stretching above the mantle captured them both. Princess Shada shook with righteous fury, her authority as effortless as her beauty, as deadly as the blade she held with an expert’s grip. Who then was the soot-smeared ragamuffin at the mirror’s other end?

  Shada felt the vertigo return. She looked like nobody. She felt like nobody
. Perhaps she had only dreamed of being Shada, and had awoken.

  “Kill her,” a Guardsman shouted.

  “This is my sister.” Sienna took Shada’s hand. “If you don’t believe me, have the mages sort them out. But if anyone harms my sister, I’ll kill him myself.”

  Shada’s eyes moistened. If Sienna insisted she was Shada, then she must be.

  Gregory hesitated. The soldiers were distracted. One smart kick and Shada could grab a blade, slip between their legs and reach the door. Her muscles twitched. Her body wanted to do it.

  But it would leave the vine girl triumphant in her place. There was no way to fight her way back to her life.

  Gregory frowned. “It will be as you say, Sienna.”

  ~o0o~

  After hours of stoning against the cell wall, Shada’s shale chip wasn’t yet sharp enough.

  She sat in the Citadel’s deepest dungeon, at the very bottom of the Sanctum Stairs; the walls, floors, and ceiling carved from white cliff stone. Iron bars were all that separated her from the vine princess.

  A conjurer was posted beyond the door. Shada assumed the mages couldn’t distinguish between the two girls, so they were using her as bait. The imposter must eventually attempt to kill the true princess, and thus reveal herself.

  The historically over-confident mages were no doubt sure they could stop the attack in time. Shada was dubious, but had come up with no better alternative than her chip.

  “Shada.” The doppelganger stood at the bars.

  “You’re willing to admit that I’m Shada?” Shada approached cautiously.

  “I admit it. But so am I. That’s our difficulty.”

  “I’m Shada. You’re a homicidal weed. Not that difficult.” Shada examined her duplicate. “You can kill me, but how would you explain my dissolved corpse? You wouldn’t be princess for long.”

  “I’d think of a story. I’m quite persuasive. If I wanted you dead, you would be.” The vine princess bowed her head. “I apologize for attacking you. And Westin. Most of me is Shada, but I still carry instincts from the dark place.”

  “You’re sorry?” Shada wondered what new type of game they were playing.

  The girl nodded. “No more violence. You’re going to leave St. Navarre.”

  “That’s never going to happen.” Shada trembled with anger. “Why do you even want to be me?”

  The vine princess’ lacquered nails tapped iron bars. “What’s your purpose, Shada?”

  Shada held her stare. “I protect my people. That’s why I’m going to drop you back down the hole you climbed out of. If you were really me, you’d know this.”

  “I know it well. You’re going to cede me your place because I can do it better than you.”

  Shada laughed.

  “Look at you,” the vine princess said. “The King’s daughter. You’re smart and resourceful, brave and physically disciplined. And pretty, should you care to be. Yet you spend so much time complaining. Fighting with your allies. You have so much, so why are you so tiresome?”

  Shada felt the peculiar urge to punch herself in the face. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “I want to be you because it’s wonderful.” The girl’s smile turned radiant. “I have all your skills and memories. I care about everything you care about. I have everything but your terrible attitude.”

  “I don’t make people happy. I keep them safe.”

  “Perhaps you’d do a better job if you didn’t make so many people unhappy.” The green eyes narrowed. “I’m your equal with a sword. But I can also use my vines. I can take down a cavalier bare-handed, but I can make him adore me, get information. I want to protect St. Navarre as much as you. But I can do it better.”

  The righteous anger churning Shada’s stomach turned sour. Maybe the vine princess would be a better defender of St. Navarre. Shada didn’t want to make people angry. It just happened, because everything seemed so hard. Because so many people wanted her to be different than she was.

  For a moment Shada felt small and useless.

  But then the image of Westin’s skull filled her mind.

  If the vine princess truly wanted to protect the city, she shouldn’t have started out by murdering one of its soldiers.

  “The way you protected Westin?” Shada spat.

  The vine princess cast her gaze down. “The longer I’m here the more the Passage instincts fade.” She looked up, eyes shining. “Soon I’ll be nothing but you.”

  “You won’t be,” Shada realized as she said it. “I’ve had to claw for every inch of what I am. Everyone in the Citadel wants me to be the furthest thing from it.” The taste of despair faded. She understood the difference between them. “You didn’t have to fight for any of this.”

  “Maybe. But if you could have charmed Gregory as I have he would have stopped deGroat and I wouldn’t be here.”

  Shada felt a stab of panic. She’d forgotten the envoy. “If you really love St. Navarre help me stop deGroat.”

  “What do you think I’ve been doing? I tailed the Kasabian into the deep caverns. He’s placing fetishes.”

  Shada’s mind raced. Fetishes meant sorcery, and the caverns housed the moon pool. A shiver passed through her. The moon pool was the source of the enchantment that made St. Navarre’s walls impregnable.

  “That scroll is an unbinding spell,” the doppelganger said. “I was recruiting soldiers when you found me because deGroat’s planning to use it tonight.”

  An unbinding spell in the caverns. Shada felt ill. DeGroat planned to destroy the moon pool. Without the walls’ enchantment, St. Navarre would fall to Tremaine’s army. This was how he intended to smash the city and enslave its people.

  “You know what he’s planning?” the vine princess asked.

  “What happens if deGroat casts an unbinding in the caverns?”

  The doppelganger gasped. “Father isn’t the target. The entire city is.”

  Shada grabbed the bars. “I need to get out of here.”

  The doppelganger’s face collapsed into a flat mask. Vines pushed through the eyeholes.

  Shada leapt backwards.

  But the vines wrapped about the iron bars at the floor and ceiling, white flowers pulling tight against the brick that held them.

  The vine princess was breaking them out.

  Mortar began to smolder. Shada threw a sidekick. One bar snapped free of its anchor. Another kick and she was free.

  The outer door opened; the conjurer’s hands in motion to release a spell. Creepers tangled his ankles, toppled him to the floor. Vines coiled around him.

  “No!” Shada whirled on the doppelganger.

  The vines snaked back into her mask. “I wasn’t going to kill him.”

  “Tell it to Westin.”

  “I apologized for that.”

  “And yet he’s still dead.” Shada stepped over the unconscious mage. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  The vine girl’s face was dirty, her hair disheveled. She now looked too much like what Shada saw in the reflecting glass. “There’s no time to get help or weapons. DeGroat and the Kasabian are professional killers. Go alone and you’ll die.”

  ~o0o~

  At the bottom of the Sanctum Stairs, the deep caverns beckoned. They were spotted with patches of phosphorescent lichen that threw an eerie, emerald glow. Shada carefully picked her way over sand and moss-covered stone.

  The tunnel opened into an enormous cavern, the ceiling high as a cathedral’s. From its center silver moonlight poured through an opening, striking the body of water below.

  The moon pool.

  The thought of deGroat polluting it frightened Shada more than facing the envoy and the Kasabian without a weapon. She had to surprise them. With the doppelganger’s help maybe she could beat them.

  The question was whether in the next heartbeat she’d find herself bound in flowers.

  Just ahead, deGroat stood on a ledge overlooking the shimmering pool, reading from the scroll. The silver moonlight
filling the pool began to distort. Inky shadows moved in the water, agents of the unbinding.

  “We have to stop him now,” Shada whispered.

  “I can’t.” The vine princess was shaking. “The moon pool’s magic is too powerful. I can’t change here. I can’t call the vines. This close to the pool, I’m nothing but you.”

  “Stay here, then,” Shada fumed. “Nothing but me is plenty.”

  She sprinted along the path and leapt down, landing on the ledge beside deGroat. The envoy looked up as Shada swept his legs out from under him. The scroll fell from his fingers.

  Shada landed on top of him, chopping at his throat. He caught her wrist. She slammed her open palm into his face. DeGroat went limp beneath her.

  She reached for the scroll.

  A huge hand closed about her arm.

  The Kasabian hauled Shada off deGroat, his blade angled to impale her. She kicked out, snapping his wrist. He dropped Shada and the sword.

  As she struggled to her knees his arms wrapped about her waist. The mercenary crushed her against his chest. She couldn’t breathe. Stars danced before her eyes.

  He slammed her down into the wet sand.

  The silver world spun. Shada desperately needed to breathe but couldn’t seem to remember how.

  She looked up and saw his spiked boot descending.

  An emerald shadow plowed into the Kasabian, carrying him past Shada and down into the sand.

  The mercenary sprang to his feet, absurdly graceful for his size. But the vine princess was just as quick, dancing around his jackhammer blows.

  Shada raised her head. Her entire body ached, but nothing seemed to be broken.

  The vine princess tripped on her dress. A blow caught her shoulder. The Kasabian leaned in, battering her with both fists.

  Shada struggled to one knee. She had to get up.

  The vine princess took punch after punch as she reached for the knife in the mercenary’s boot. She grasped the hilt and sliced him across the thigh.

  Scarlet splashed sand. The Kasbian howled and fell, bleeding out.

  The vine princess eyed the dying man with satisfaction.

  “Nice work.” Shada crawled toward her.

  “Wow, this hurts.” The vine princess wiped blood from her face. Her left eye was purple and her dress splattered with blood.