“Oh, yeah. Maybe that’s why.”
“What else did he tell you about Velrav?”
Chandra recounted Jurl’s vague comments about Velrav’s servants abducting individuals from every race living on Diraden, in order to satisfy the “hunger.” She concluded by describing the encounter with the Bog Wraith.
Gideon said, “So you didn’t kill it and alert Velrav’s entire army to your presence?”
“No,” she said stonily.
“It’s nice to see you’re learning from your mistakes.”
“What do you know about my-”
“Before we go to all the trouble of destroying this… yes, shroud is a good word for it, we should make sure-”
“Hold on, what do you mean ‘we’?” she said. “If you’re determined to meddle in local problems, that’s your choice. Enjoy yourself! But this has nothing to do with me. All I want to do is get the blazes off this creepy plane and…” The full weight of the problem facing them hit Chandra like a physical blow. She swayed a little as she realized exactly what this meant.
“Ah,” Gideon said. “Therein lies the rub.”
“We can’t leave,” she said, appalled by the realization.
“Not until we can establish proper mana bonds. As long as it’s restricted…”
“We’re stuck here.”
Fleeing Kephalai in a weakened state, Chandra had risked dying in the Blind Eternities. And here, without access to any real power, she risked living the rest of her days in perpetual night.
“I’m stranded.” She gazed at her handsome companion in horror. “With you.”
“Well, if you get bored with me,” he said, “there’s always Jurl.”
“I suppose you’re going to suggest that you and I…” She swallowed, so revolted by the idea that she had trouble even saying it. “That we… work together. To get out of here.”
“I can manage alone, if you’d rather just give in and settle down here. But, yes, I-”
“Give in?”
“I imagine it will be easier to escape this plane if both of us are working on the problem.” His lips relaxed momentarily into what might have been a slight smile. “Together.”
She thought it over. “There are certain conditions, if you want my help.”
“By all means, let’s pause to negotiate the terms under which we’ll cooperate.”
“I didn’t ask you to come here,” she reminded him. “Your being here is entirely your own fault. You shouldn’t have followed me. While we’re on the subject, you also shouldn’t have stolen my scroll or helped the Prelate’s soldiers capture me!”
“I think we’re digressing.”
Chandra said, “My conditions are as follows.”
“Go on.”
“I won’t return to Kephalai. You will not take me back there. You will not trick me or manipulate me into going there again.”
“Agreed.”
“Nor will you inform the Prelate, her forces, or any other inhabitants of Kephalai where I go when I leave here.”
“Agreed,” he said.
“You will not betray me to Prince Velrav or his minions in order to secure your own escape, and you will not prevent me from leaving this plane.”
His black brows rose. “You do have a low opinion of me.”
“If you don’t like my terms,” she said, “that’s fine. We don’t have to work together.”
“No, your terms are fine. I agree to them.”
She searched his face to see if she trusted his word on this. His expression gave away little. But she refused to be afraid of him… and she recognized, however reluctantly, that it made more sense for them to cooperate here than to be at odds with each other.
He said, “As long as we’re negotiating our partnership…”
“We’re not partners,” Chandra said sharply. “We’re just… um…”
“I have some conditions, too.”
“Oh?”
“You will-at least, insofar as you are capable of it-think before you act, while we are here.”
“How dare-”
“I don’t want to spend the rest of my life here-and probably a very short life, at that-because you didn’t use your head.” When she just glowered at him, he prodded, “Well?”
“Insofar as I am capable,” she said darkly, “I will think before I act.”
“Good. Next condition: You will not kill anyone who isn’t a danger to us.”
“How are we deciding who is or isn’t a danger?” she asked suspiciously.
“Let’s agree you’ll trust my judgment on that.”
“No.” She turned away.
His hand on her arm stopped her. “Chandra.”
She turned her head. Their eyes met. His were very serious. To her surprise, he didn’t look angry. She wasn’t quite sure what she saw there, though.
He said softly, “We could die here.”
Gideon was a little taller than she. Chandra tilted her head up and said, “Then I’ll die because of my judgment. Not yours.”
His hand still held her arm. “I don’t want to kill any innocents while I’m trying to get out of here.”
The thought of innocents bothered her.
“I don’t, either,” she said, aware of how close together they were standing. So close that she noticed now he needed to shave. The dark shadow starting to darken his jaw would become more obvious by morning
… which wouldn’t come, of course. Not on Diraden.
Gideon said, “You can be a little… reckless that way.”
His gaze dropped, and his dark lashes lowered. Chandra had a feeling he was staring at her lips. She licked them, and she felt the grip on her arm tighten ever so slightly.
“I was trying to survive. They’d have killed me on Kephalai.” She heard the breathlessness in her voice and didn’t like it. She jerked her arm out of his hold and stepped away. “Anyhow, what makes you think we’ll meet innocents? So far, I’ve talked to a goblin, seen a Bog Wraith, and heard about a black mage with a sinister appetite.”
“The night is still young.”
He looked at her impassively, as if that odd moment hadn’t happened between them.
Maybe it hadn’t for him.
She scowled at him. “So. Are we working together?”
“Yes.”
“Fine,” she said. “Since you’re an advocate of thinking before you act, what’s your plan?”
“First,” he said, “I think we should find out who’s watching us.”
“Watching us?” She frowned. “What makes you think we’re being w-”
“Yaaagggh!”
The wordless bellow was accompanied by something big and heavy careening into Chandra’s back. At that same moment, she saw Jurl leap over a tumbled stone wall and attack Gideon, who whirled around to defend himself.
Chandra hit the ground with considerable force, and had the wind knocked out of her. She heard snarling right by her ear and felt a heavy body lying on top of her. Then a powerful grip seized her shoulders and started banging her against the ground. Over and over. Hard.
She called on fire, intending to incinerate her attacker… and then realized that she couldn’t.
Damn, damn, damn.
While she fought to retain consciousness, Chandra saw a hairy, clawed hand out of the corner of her eye. Lumpy, gray skin. Another goblin.
Jurl? she wondered in confusion.
It kept banging her into the ground, as if trying to tenderize her.
That does it!
Without enough physical strength to gain the advantage, in her current position, she tried a different tactic. “I…” Fortunately, the ground wasn’t hard: but even so, this was painful. “… surrender!” She was smashed into the ground again. “I surrender! I surrender!”
“What?” the goblin said, pausing in its assault.
“I surrender!” Now that she wasn’t being pummeled against the ground, she could hear the grunts and blows of Gideon and the other
goblin fighting each other.
“Surrender?” the goblin said, breathing on her neck.
“Yes! I surrender! I give up!” Chandra cried. “You win!”
The goblin’s weight shifted. It was evidently surprised, and perhaps a little confused. Since goblins weren’t known for their mercy, it might never have encountered this reaction to an attack before. Typically, a fight with a goblin was a fight to the death.
The pause in the goblin’s assault and the shifting of its weight was all Chandra needed. She used the muscles of her legs to buck the goblin off of her with a powerful scissor kick, before she rolled over and reached for one of the rocks lying at the base of a nearby ruined wall. Rock in hand, she threw herself at the goblin and smashed its massive head. The goblin shrieked and stumbled backward. Chandra jumped up and hit it in the head again right at the temple. The beast hit the ground hard. Unmoving, blood trickling from its ear, Chandra left the it where it lay and staggered away, unsure if it was dead.
“Ugh! I hate goblins! I hate them!”
Chandra turned around, intending to go help Gideon. He and the other goblin were rolling around on the ground together, their bodies wallowing frantically in the mud around the stone walls.
Chandra picked up another rock and moved toward them. The goblin lost its hold on Gideon, who rolled away and raised his foot to kick the goblin in the face with considerable force. It fell backward, then staggered in a circle and turned toward Gideon, who rolled across the ground rapidly and stretched out his arm, reaching for something. The goblin saw Chandra approaching them and froze. It turned its head and saw its companion lying prone on the ground.
The goblin gave a shrill little cry-then turned and fled.
“Stay back!” Gideon ordered as Chandra dashed across the ground.
“It’s getting away!”
“Get down!” Gideon raised an arm to make wide, rapid circles over his head.
Chandra saw something glint brightly in the moonlight as it spun over Gideon’s head, making a menacing whooshing sound. She realized it was that daggertail of his, unfurled and swirling above them with deadly speed.
Remembering that the thing had three very long, sharp blades, Chandra threw herself to the ground and covered her head. Without his magic guiding the weapon’s steely tendrils, who knew whether Gideon’s aim was any good.
She heard the whooshing sound change to a long steel sigh as Gideon unleashed the whip. She peeked between her fingers and saw that he had released the entire weapon, letting it sail through the dark night, handle and all. The goblin was speedy and had already covered some distance, but it couldn’t outrun the flying weapon.
As Chandra rose to her knees, gaze fixed intently on the fleeing goblin, Gideon set off at a run. Chandra saw something glint briefly in the moonlight, then she saw the goblin fall down. She rose to her feet and ran after him, too.
When she reached Gideon’s side, the goblin was lying on the ground, grunting and snarling as it struggled in the sharp tangle of flexible blades that were constraining its short legs.
“I shouldn’t have doubted your aim,” Chandra said to Gideon, breathing hard from her exertions.
“Lucky shot,” Gideon said. “To be honest, I could scarcely see him.”
“Chandra!” the goblin said in a familiar-sounding voice. “Don’t kill!”
She sighed. “Hello, Jurl. We meet again.”
Gideon seized the handle of the whip and jerked it sharply. Jurl’s eyes bulged and he made a horrible groaning sound from the pain inflicted on his trapped limbs.
Chandra asked Gideon, “How did you know they were watching us?”
“The one that attacked you was casting a shadow on the stone wall near you. I realized it when he moved.”
She hadn’t seen the realization dawn on Gideon’s face. She should remember that he was good at hiding things.
Gideon gave Jurl a light tap with his foot. “But I didn’t know there was one behind me, too. They move quietly, don’t they?”
“Don’t kick!” Jurl said.
“Explain why you just attacked us,” Gideon said to the goblin.”
“Chandra go away soon.”
Gideon glanced at Chandra, then said, “You attacked her because she was leaving?”
“Because no time.”
“I think he means,” Chandra said, “he attacked now because I had told him I was leaving very soon.”
“Yes!” Jurl was apparently pleased with her interpretation. “No time.”
“Why attack her at all?” Gideon asked the goblin.
“Take to Prince Velrav.”
“What?” Chandra scowled. “You were going to turn me over to Velrav? To feed the hunger?”
“Yes.”
“Now I see why you were so helpful, Jurl. You wanted me for yourself.”
“Yes,” Jurl confirmed.
“To think I was beginning to like you,” she muttered.
“So you’re one of Velrav’s takers?” Gideon asked Jurl.
“Yes.”
“I see,” Gideon said. “Why?”
“Take gift to Velrav. Velrav give something.”
“Ah. And if you took a beautiful fire mage to Velrav,” Gideon said, “you’d get something good, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes.” Jurl looked as crestfallen as a writhing, captive goblin could look. “But not now.” He looked at Gideon and added, “Don’t kill.”
“Why not?” Gideon gave the handle of his weapon another sharp tug.
Jurl gasped. “Give me life. I give you.”
“Give us what?”
“Tell me what,” Jurl said. “I get.” “What I want,” Gideon said, “is someone who can answer all my questions.”
“Questions?” Jurl repeated.
“My questions about Velrav. About Diraden. About why morning never comes.”
Jurl thought it over, then suggested, “Wise woman?”
“Yes,” Gideon agreed. “I want to speak to a wise woman.”
“Village wise woman,” Jurl said eagerly. “Know things.”
“How far?” Gideon asked
“Not far. I bring you.”
Gideon said to the goblin, “I’m going to remove the sural from your legs.”
“What?”
“The weapon.”
“Good!”
“And then I’m going to use it to tie your hands behind your back.”
“Bad”
“If you resist or try to get away while I’m doing this,” Gideon said, “I will catch you again, but I won’t be nice.”
“You could end up like your friend, Jurl. You don’t want that, do you?” Chandra prodded.
“Not friend,” Jurl said dismissively.
“Then why did you bring him along?” she asked. “Wouldn’t you have to share with him whatever Velrav gave you?”
“Need help now,” Jurl said. “Kill later.”
“No honor among goblins,” Chandra muttered.
“I guess the prospect of attacking a woman alone was too daunting,” Gideon said dryly.
“Intimidated by my beauty, no doubt,” she said, recalling Gideon’s earlier comment.
“Maybe so.” There was no mockery in his voice. He was looking down at the goblin as he began untangling his weapon from its legs. His expression was hidden in shadows. Chandra stared at him in bemusement. Until he said, “Hold the rock where he can see it.”
Gideon finished removing the sural from Jurl’s legs. “Roll over.”
Jurl said, “Don’t tie hands.”
“Roll over,” Chandra said, “or you’ll die right now, exactly the way your friend died.”
“Not frien-”
“Shut up and do as you’re told,” she snapped.
With blatant reluctance, Jurl rolled over and allowed Gideon to seize his arms and start binding his hands together with the flexible blades of the sural.
When the goblin cried out in pain and protested, Gideon advised him to stop resisting. �
�This will hurt less if you cooperate.”
When Gideon was satisfied that the restraint was secure enough, he rose to his feet, holding the handle of the sural. The lengths of steel that stretched between the handle and the goblin’s bound wrists served as a sort of leash.
“Get up,” Gideon said.
“Cannot,” Jurl said.
Chandra moved to put her hands under the prostrate goblin’s shoulders, and pushed him-with some effort-up to a kneeling position. From there, she and Gideon each took one arm and hauled Jurl to his feet.
“Now take us to the wise woman,” Gideon said.
“Yes.”
“Oh, one more thing.” Gideon twitched the handle of the sural. Jurl protested as the sharp bands of steel tightened around his wrists and pulled his arms backward at a painful angle. “If you try to trick us, or betray us, or take us to anyone else…” Gideon tugged the handle again. “I’ll pull on this thing so hard, it will cut off your hands.”
“No!”
“Without hands, the rest of your life will be helpless and miserable. On the bright side,” Gideon added, “it will no doubt also be very, very short.”
“No trick!” Jurl promised. “Just wise woman!”
“Good,” said Gideon.
“This way,” Jurl said.
They left the stone ruins behind and set off in a different direction than Chandra had gone before. As they walked through the quiet, dying landscape, following their reluctant guide, Gideon said, “You’re pretty useful when there’s trouble, even without the fire magic.”
So was he. But she was reluctant to pay him compliments. Instead she asked, “Where did you get your…” She pointed to the weapon whose handle he held.
“The sural?”
“Yes, your sural.”
“My teacher gave it to me.”
“Did he…” She hesitated, then asked, “Did he know about you?”
He didn’t have to ask what she meant. “Yes.”
“Was he a…” Chandra glanced at the goblin trudging ahead of them. “Was your teacher one of us?”
“No, but he knew about our kind.”
“How?”
“His teacher was one.” Gideon added, “And his teacher gave him the sural.”
“Where did it originally come from?” She had never seen anything like it.
“I don’t know.” Beside her in the dark, Gideon said quietly, “His teacher died without telling him where he’d gotten it.”
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