But before he could get Exodius away, he had to get rid of the charming but mysterious Allegria. He decided, since she was somehow connected to Deo, that it was safer to parry her questions. “I don’t know the answer to that question any more than I have experience with chaos magic.”
“Then you are a very poor runeseeker,” she said, and continued across the gallery.
He had to stop her. He couldn’t let her get to Exodius, or else he’d have more trouble on his hands than he wanted to face.
“I’m sorry,” he told her, stopping her when she looked up at the spiral stone staircase. “I can’t go with you, much though I would like to meet Lord Deo. I’m very curious as to what he’s doing here. You wouldn’t care to tell me, would you?”
“No,” Allegria said slowly, her expression guarded. “Do you know Deo?”
“I’ve never been introduced, but I’ve heard much about him,” he said truthfully, remembering the night a few years before when Deo had been banished. “I have heard it said that he went mad trying to control the chaos magic, which banished him to an isolated island, but I do not know him personally to say if that is true or not.”
“Well, I do know him,” Allegria snapped, the gold in her onyx eyes flaring to life. “And he is not mad. He might have been at one time when he was undergoing the transformation, but he’s not now. He’s quite sane, and very determined to rid Alba of Harborym.”
“I would love to stay and talk to you more about this transformation you mention, and what Lord Deo wants with Exodius, but I really must take my leave of you. And in case you don’t understand the subtext of that statement, it means you need to leave this tower.”
“Exodius?”
“The runeseeker. Who, incidentally, will be coming with me.”
“You’re not the runeseeker?” Allegria stiffened, her hands flexing. He was interested to note that the runes on her cuffs glowed slightly. “Then just who are you?”
He made her a little bow. “I am Hallow of Penhallow, and I am the man who will be escorting the runeseeker Exodius to Lord Israel. If you will excuse my poor manners, I needs must get him moving. I fear it’s going to take a bit of time, and I, too, wish to be away before moonrise. I will escort you back to the door—”
“What? No! You can’t take him—he’s mine!” Allegria reached for her swords, but Hallow was ready for such an objection. He had been gathering arcane magic from the stars while he spoke, and now he cast a quick spell to throw a transportation bubble around her. It would move her only twenty yards or so, but that, he judged, would be enough to shift her outside the tower, and it would keep her confined for almost an hour. He turned and ran up the stairs, determined to get Exodius on his way even if he had to sling the old man over his shoulder and carry him.
CHAPTER NINE
“Just when you think someone has nice eyes and an even nicer smile, they put you in a bubble and fling you outside.” I looked down from where the bubble was holding me motionless in the air at a height that was almost two stories up, and surely going to cause me an injury when the magic in it finally faded. “I’m so going to make Hallow of Penhallow rue the day he ever crossed me. The runeseeker is his, indeed. I think not!”
I glared at the tower for a few minutes, hoping he could feel the waves of anger from me, but quickly decided I’d be better served by focusing my energies on getting out of the blasted bubble and into the tower.
“This is just ridiculous,” I said through my teeth some twenty minutes later, sweating profusely as I struggled to somehow break the bubble. I had tried my swords, tried conjuring up a veritable herd of light badgers to burrow through the bubble, tried directing the sun itself to destroy the bubble, but all my efforts did was slowly lower the bubble toward the ground until I was about two yards off a slab of fallen wall. “At least I won’t break my leg when I finally get out—what? No! Oh, you bastard!”
The doors to the tower opened and the nice-eyed, but definitely black-of-soul, Hallow appeared with a large bulky object held over one shoulder. It was wrapped in a cloak, and judging by the legs that kicked from beneath it, he’d kidnapped the runeseeker I’d been sent to find.
Hallow paused long enough to give a little wave and offer me a smile.
“I’ll get you!” I yelled, hoping my voice was audible through the bubble despite the fact that it seemed to filter any sound from the outside. “I’ll hunt you down and find you and ... and ... well, I don’t know what exactly I’ll do to you, but it will be heinous and unpleasant!”
He mouthed something to me that I could not hear, then, with a little salute, hurried off with the struggling runeseeker, followed by a small, fat dog.
I shook a sword at Hallow as he loped away with his burden. “You’ll rue the day you ever crossed ... well, shite. At least he could have stayed and let me finish ranting. Right. Enough of this. I have to get out of this blasted thing before he gets too far ahead of me. Since lightweaving won’t work, maybe the opposite will.”
The runes on my wrists offered no suggestions as to how I was to use the magic that roiled inside of me, but I hadn’t gone through the hell of becoming a banesman just to sit back and do nothing.
With a deep breath, I closed my eyes, focusing my attention on the chaos magic itself. It felt much different from the power of the sun; it was darker, absorbing energy rather than pouring it into the environment. Just by embracing it, I could feel it drawing on the death forces around me, of the living things that were passing over into the eternal night. I held it for one brief second before it slipped my mental grasp, ignoring all my attempts to shape and use it.
“What a useless bit of magic if you can’t even use it. And after it almost killed me taking it in. Oh, I’m going to have a few things to say to Deo about just how he expects us to use this so-wondrous power of his,” I muttered darkly some twenty minutes later. As I spoke, the bubble burst with an audible pop, causing me to land awkwardly on the stone slab. I hesitated for the count of seven, wondering if there was any reason to go into the tower and search the runeseeker’s rooms, but knowing in my heart that Hallow had taken the only valuable thing. “Blast his pretty blue eyes. And ... well, his nice smile. And broad shoulders. Really, his chest was ... Kiriah’s nipples! What am I saying? The man must have bespelled me!”
I slapped my own cheeks in order to snap out of what was obviously a spell intended to charm me, and ran through the ruins back to where I had hobbled Buttercup. I muttered to myself as I ran, aware that the ghosts were beginning to return, but other than a few cries of anger directed at me, I made it through Kelos without again being accosted.
“Come on, Buttercup. We have a villain to catch.” I pulled the rope hobble from Buttercup’s front legs, deftly avoiding her nip on my rear when I did so. “First we need to figure out what direction he went. Quickly, now, before we lose the light.”
It took another half hour before we found a dirt track to a road that led to the south, hoofprints plainly visible. The road had once been paved, but had clearly fallen into disuse. Weeds sprouted from between the stones, some of which had been dislodged and pushed onto the grass verge. There were patches where the road was missing entirely, but enough of it remained that I set Buttercup to a bone-jarring trot, all the while promising myself any number of physical acts of revenge on the traitorous Hallow.
His chest really was quite broad. I had always had a weakness for tall, broad-shouldered men like him, ones who made me feel like I wasn’t quite such a hearty peasant behemoth. “Kiriah damn his pretty eyes,” I muttered under my breath, and pulled a cloak from my pack to wrap around me against the darkness that rolled out over the land like a velvet rug.
Bellias Starsong didn’t see fit to give me much of a moon, but the skies were clear, and although Buttercup stumbled once or twice, and three times shied at shadows that seemed to creep across the broken road, we made our way southward without incident. We traveled all night and well into the morning before I fell asleep and tumbled
off Buttercup, and decided it was best to take a break before we both harmed ourselves. I slept fitfully, my dreams disturbed by images of Deo ranting about the need for the runeseeker, and the enticing figure of Hallow smiling, the lines around his blue eyes crinkling in a way that made my stomach feel warm.
“Definitely a charm spell,” I murmured sleepily at one point, before turning over and claiming another hour’s sleep.
All that day and into the following morning, we saw only intermittent signs that Hallow’s horse had preceded us. “Is he going to Starfall City?” I asked aloud at midday. “Deo said that the Harborym hold the city. Why would he take the runeseeker there? Did he lie about Lord Israel? Hmm.”
My speculation was cut short when, while watering Buttercup at a small pond, I heard riders galloping down the road. I flattened myself immediately to avoid being seen, but there was no need for hiding—the men didn’t so much as glance to where the pond sat partially hidden by a copse of trees. What was interesting was that rather than disappear down the road toward Starfall, they slowed and veered off to the right, up a steep cliff of rocky outcropping.
“Those men wore Lord Israel’s colors,” I told Buttercup, and, after filling a waterskin, hobbled her where she could graze, and stealthily made my way after the men.
I heard the camp before I saw it. Noises with which I’d become familiar after my short time with Deo filtered down over the rocks. Men’s voices, horses nickering softly, the clang of metal, occasional outbursts of laughter—all warned that it wasn’t a small group. I crept up the rocks, avoiding the path that wound its way back and forth to the top, keeping to the shadows whenever I could. I reached the crest and paused, surprised to find it perfectly flat, a field that was filled with white and gold tents, horses, men, pens with geese and goats, and all the hustle and bustle of a small town. The tents were formed into a square, in the center of which was an open area dotted with a couple of tables and chairs, a large fire in the middle, and an aged man with a fringed halo of white hair accompanied by the same small fat dog I’d seen at Hallow’s heels.
“The runeseeker,” I murmured, and scanned the camp for signs of the annoying Hallow. I couldn’t see the entire area from where I was crouched, so shifted to another rock in an attempt to get a better view. As I rounded a large boulder, I ran straight into a man in a guard’s uniform relieving himself against the rock. He was as startled as I was, but I was faster.
“Oh! Pardon,” I said, and spun around, intending on scrambling down the rocks before he could call after me.
“Hey! Who are you? Samson, there’s a woman here. Come see!”
The guard’s shouts did the damage I had hoped against, and before I was halfway down the rocks, they swarmed after me. Worse, another patrol was coming up the winding path, and before I could do so much as mutter imprecations to Bellias for her blighted land, I was marched into the camp accompanied by a full score of men.
There were several cries of surprise, and a few of a more concerning nature. “A spy!” a couple of men yelled.
“Traitor!”
“Do you see her swords? She’s an assassin sent to slay Lord Israel!”
“Get the headsman! Kill her before she tries to kill us all!”
“Wait a minute,” I protested, struggling when my swords were removed from my back, and my hands roughly jerked behind me and tied with a bit of hemp. One of my sleeves had come off in the struggle. “I’m not an assassin, and I’m not here to assassinate anyone. I come from Lord Deo—”
“Lies!” the guard nearest me shouted. “Lord Deo is exiled on the Isle of Enoch.”
“If you’ll just listen to me—”
The guards behind me shoved me forward, and to my horror, someone dragged a low table over. Blood stained the top, deep gouges showing where an axe had bitten deep.
“She has magic signs upon her wrists!” another man yelled, rushing up and pointing dramatically at me. “She is sent to bespell us all. Kill her before she can drive us from our senses!”
“You odious little runt,” I snarled, struggling for real now. Unfortunately, without the use of my hands, I couldn’t use my lightweaving powers. But there was still the chaos magic. ...
The cry of “Kill the spy!” was taken up as a chant, and I fought to keep panic at bay, and to focus my mind on harnessing the dark magic that struggled inside me.
The runeseeker, his attention caught as the guards dragged me over to the low table, looked up from a book he was writing in and squinted at me. “Ah, it’s the second intruder. Don’t let her near your ghosts. She has no patience with them, none whatsoever. Quite deadly with the swords, according to the boy.”
I ignored him, ignored them all, ignored even the fact that I was thrown down onto my belly across the low table, my arms stretched out and tied to the legs. If I faltered now, I’d never have another chance. I calmed my screaming mind and gathered chaos magic, holding it back when it threatened to slip free.
A shadow fell over me, and the scent of death filled my nose. I refused to acknowledge the arrival of the executioner even as I fought to keep my focus when someone handed him a mammoth axe.
The chaos magic didn’t want to be used—it wanted to control me. I fought with it, and strained to keep it leashed all the while my heart beat a panicked tattoo, filling my ears so I couldn’t hear the jeers of the guards.
Until one voice rose above the others. “What’s all this noise—Allegria? What are you—no! Stop!”
A surge of chaos power crested within me, threatening to explode outward.
“There you are,” the runeseeker said. “Will you get these men to quiet down? I can’t concentrate with all this folderol of the intruder’s execution going on.”
“Stop! I said stop!”
Two things happened at almost the exact same time. The first was that Hallow’s voice rose in a roar that hurt my ears, his words accompanied with a thunderclap of arcane power that wrapped itself around me in another bubble, this time one protecting me from the falling axe above my head.
The second, and in my mind more impressive, was that the chaos magic, for a scant second, allowed me to channel it and turn it outside of myself.
With a sound that pierced my brain like shards of glass, the power exploded outward, leveling guards, tents, horses, and even the trees scattered around the camp.
I looked up to find the only two things still standing were Hallow and me. He’d been in the act of reaching into the bubble, and looked down at me now with eyes wide with wonder and disbelief.
“That which doesn’t kill me had best run,” I reminded him.
He blinked twice before pulling out a dagger and cutting my hands free. “I’d say that was an overstatement, but given that you’ve just flattened everything in what is probably a two-acre radius, I’m going to move on. What did you do? Was that the chaos magic? I’ve never felt anything like it. Who exactly are you? Or rather, what are you?”
I stood rubbing my wrists where the ropes had cut into my flesh when a voice spoke behind me. “What have you done, arcanist?”
Around me, people were slowly getting to their feet, some shaking their heads, others assisting those who were still lying prone. Lord Israel, who had apparently been coming out of the largest tent to see what was going on, got to his feet and brushed himself off as he strode forward.
“It wasn’t me,” Hallow answered, his gaze curious. “But I would dearly like to know just what Allegria did. It wasn’t like any chaos power I’d ever seen.”
“You said you weren’t familiar with it,” I said, narrowing my eyes on him.
He grinned. “That might not have been the strictest of truths.”
“You ... you ...” I couldn’t think of anything horrible enough to call him, so distracted I was by the fact that I had escaped death by a scant second or two.
Lord Israel stopped in front of me, his gaze first on Deo’s emblem on my chest, then shifting to the silver bands on my wrists and ankles. “So he ha
s done it,” he murmured.
I inclined my head. “Lord Israel.”
“You are a Bane of Eris,” he stated, holding up a hand when the nearest guards staggered to their feet and made to recapture me. “Hold. I would speak with the woman.” His gaze flickered at Hallow for a second before he added, “And the arcanist. Bring them to my tent.”
I raised my eyebrows and looked pointedly over his shoulder.
Lord Israel, with an odd martyred look flitting across his face, amended his order. “Get my tent up as soon as possible. Jalas will be here with Lady Idril at any time—I don’t want them thinking we cannot even maintain a simple camp while waiting for the rest of the council to arrive. You there—right that table, and take the prisoner to it.”
Israel turned and strode over to the runeseeker, calling, “Exodius, a word, if you please ...”
“Troublemaker,” Hallow murmured under his breath, but loud enough for me to hear.
“I have a few names for you, too,” I answered in the same tone. “Like thief. Underhanded thief. Lying underhanded thief.”
“I just saved your life. You should remember that when you’re forming slurs to hurl at me.”
“I saved my own life; you merely got in the way of that. Wait ... did he say Idril?” I asked in a whisper when the servants scurried to right the table and chairs.
“Yes.” He shot me an oddly questioning look. “Are you a member of the Tribe of Jalas?”
“No, but I’ve heard of Jalas’s daughter, Idril.” I was silent for a moment before asking, “What is she doing here?”
“The Council of Four Armies is gathering.”
I hated to admit ignorance, but my curiosity was greater than my pride. “I don’t know what that is.”
“Then you shall have something new to learn.” He reached out to take my arm, but the second his fingers touched my bare skin, a shock sparked between us, causing him to jerk back. “By the stars, what was that?”
I smiled, and lifted my hands to show him the halo of gold that glowed around them. “It would seem you have something to learn, as well. Did I neglect to tell you that in addition to being a banesman, I’m also a lightweaver?”
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