“It knocked me senseless. By the time I’d recovered enough to be of any use, we’d taken heavy losses. Out of the fifty who started, only ten lived to see the Scareani Mountains. Only Ki’ Crell, Edgar, and I saw the other side.”
He sat lost in his thoughts for more than a few minutes. Finally, he shook himself and looked around the room with a grim smile. “Ki’ Crell was the strongest of us. I had lost most of my magic and was barely able to walk; Edgar had shattered ribs, a broken wrist, and had taken a heavy blow to the head. Crell decided she would go ahead of us and bring back help; Edgar and I couldn’t make it another step, we never would have gotten here.”
He looked straight into Storm’s eyes. “When she had been gone a week past the agreed waiting time, I took it upon myself to try my failed magic one last time. I gathered my tattered Power around me, then flung Edgar and me as hard as I could, to here.” He gave a wry smile. “I almost made it.”
Jenna sent a brief probe, but she’d have to take his word for his previous magical abilities. He was now as magic-dead as Storm. She shuddered. Ghortin had described this kind of overload before. By reaching out to gather from around him, when his own skills were weak, if not completely gone, he’d destroyed his magic ability. Unlike when she over-taxed herself during the run with the sciretts, it was quite likely that the seneschal would be magic-dead for the rest of his life.
The room was silent for a few moments.
“Which way was Crell headed?” Storm’s question sounded simple, but there were lines of worry and determination closing in around his eyes. He’d been itching to go do something since he’d woken up. Tor Ranshal’s tale, and the disappearance of his friend, was enough to nudge the kelar prince past rational thought, not that he hadn’t been close to it the past few weeks. He was going out, with or without their help or blessing.
Tor Ranshal shook his head. “Not yet.” He fixed his strange golden eyes on Storm’s tense face and held the prince’s glare until Storm finally looked away. “You’re in no condition to rescue anyone.”
A sharp groan dragged everyone’s attention away from the two. It had come from Edgar, who was now awake and slowly trying to sit up. His healer kept pushing him back down.
“Now, you must stay still. What will Healer Maggie think?”
“Too late, we’ve spotted him.” Maggie sighed as she walked to the dark-haired knight’s side. “Edgar, I swear, I’m going to think you kelars know nothing about staying still until you’re better.”
“Mistress Maggie,” he said, still struggling to sit up. “I knew you wouldn’t be far. And see, your excellent care has already paid off; I feel like a new man.”
“Good try.” She waggled a thick finger at him. “You’ve been in my excellent care for only a few hours. I’m afraid even my abilities aren’t enough to mend broken ribs or a damaged head in that short amount of time. Bone takes time to knit. Your head injury is healing but you still need rest.” She raised her other hand to emphasize the point when the thin, sharp-faced kelar looked ready to argue.
“I think the best thing for my newest guests is rest. I’m sure the castle will be sending someone over soon. I’ll tell them what Tor Ranshal has told us and they can talk to you directly, in the morning.” Her pointed look encompassed the entire room.
“I do believe that’s our cue.” Keanin held out his arms, one for Storm, and the other for Jenna. She didn’t think Storm would take it, fearing it was a sign of weakness. But he rose with a flourish worthy of Keanin and took the proffered limb. Jenna took his other arm and the three left the room.
In celebration of Storm’s newly established mobility—Maggie couldn’t well confine him to his room now—they had a lavish supper together in Jenna’s little workshop.
Storm made no comment about Tor Ranshal’s tale, and he seemed almost as carefree as Keanin. His flirting with her actually almost made Jenna blush once or twice.
Jenna didn’t believe him for a minute. He was planning something; that was for certain. What exactly it was, or when it would take place, she had no idea. She wanted to ask about this Crell person, but even if Storm’s cheeriness was only an act, she didn’t want to destroy it. It had been too long since she’d seen him laugh.
As the night drew to a close, Jenna found herself listening to the two bantering kelars with only half an ear.
“I hate to be the one to poop out first, but it’s been a long day.” She covered a yawn. “I’m going to go to bed.”
Keanin gave a stretch and winked. “Want some company?”
“He asks the same question every night, and every night he gets the same response.” Jenna shook her head and looked at Storm. “You really would think he’d come up with something new after all this time.”
“He’s not used to having to come up with something new.” Storm smirked. “He’s never had to ask more than once before.”
“Ha, ha,” Keanin said. “I’ll have you know, I do it because it’s expected of me. And Jenna is an attractive woman. Besides, I can’t resist a challenge.” He started for the door, and then turned back to Storm. “Do you want us to walk you back?”
Storm shook his head. “No, thanks. I can manage by myself. I just want to stay out here for a bit more.”
He didn’t look tired, or ill for that matter. Jenna realized that he might not be as weak as he appeared. Kelars were quick healers; and prior to his injury he had been an extremely healthy individual. And fewer people would be keeping an eye on him if they thought he was still recovering.
Jenna tried to convey her concern to Keanin the entire way back to the castle, but he wouldn’t listen.
“Corin’s not that devious.” She scowled, and he gave in with a sigh. “If you’re that worried, I’ll go follow him and make sure he stays put. We can tell Maggie about your paranoid delusions tomorrow.”
Jenna gave him a grateful smile.
“Now, are you certain I can’t come in?” He leered at her from the door. He was amazingly good looking, but she certainly wasn’t about to make her already complicated life more so by getting involved with the kingdom’s Don Juan.
She sighed. “Good night, Keanin.” The auburn-haired kelar barely got his foot out of the way of her door as she shut it.
Later that night Jenna tossed in her bed as yelling and screaming burst through her dreams. With a jolt, she realized it wasn’t a dream. And that the yelling was coming from the lower levels of the castle.
Throwing on a shirt, leggings, and boots, she grabbed her dagger and ran out the door. It wasn’t until she was two flights down and could hear swords clashing that she realized she might be being a bit overzealous.
She detoured toward Keanin’s room. He might not be much of a fighter, but suicidal charges looked silly with one person.
Keanin clearly had the same idea. She rounded the corner to find him barreling down on her. “Jenna. We should be back in your rooms.” Well, almost the same idea.
“With the whole castle under attack?” As she said it, she realized the enormity of her words. No one should be able to get to the castle, let alone compromise it. Unless they got in by magical means. Visions of invading demonspawn ran through her head. “Come on. We’ve got to do something.”
Keanin pulled back. “But I’m unarmed.”
Jenna rubbed her head. “You ran out into this without anything?”
“I didn’t think we’d go fight. I thought I’d go make sure you were barricaded in your rooms. With me preferably.”
“I’m a mage, remember? I’m supposed to defend people, not hide. Here, take my dagger. At least I’ve got my magic.” Or so she hoped.
“Ghortin’s back?” Keanin kept pace with her easily. And although he didn’t seem pleased about the sharp dagger in his hand, he clearly knew how to hold it.
“I can do it without him,” she snapped. She didn’t want to tell him that no, Ghortin wasn’t back.
And that she wasn’t sure her on-again, off-again magic wouldn’t let her do
wn. But she had to do something. At least she’d armed Keanin. Hopefully he wouldn’t die because of her folly.
The noises were coming from the main hall. Jenna and Keanin burst down the last stairs in a blind rush. Men and women were locked in gory fights, but she didn’t see anything that looked like demonspawn. In fact, most of the attackers, a wide assortment of kelars, humans, and derawris, who looked like they should be in town going about daily business, were fighting with little care. They didn’t seem to notice what wounds they took. Their eyes were vacant and their jaws were slack, but they continued their bloody onslaught with force if not skill.
Holding back, Jenna saw that the castle guards were doing their best but there weren’t nearly enough of them. Their sapphire and emerald tunics were splattered in blood. Fighting alongside them was a group of men and women dressed in forest greens and deep browns. At their forefront was a small snarling derawri woman with long red hair.
Jenna nudged the stunned Keanin in the ribs. “Who is that?”
Keanin’s relief was evident as he followed her finger to the red-haired woman. “Thank the stars! That’s Ki’ Crell.” His face fell a second later. “No!”
Jenna looked to see what had shaken him, and caught a glimpse of familiar long brown hair. Storm had been fighting a tall human who seemed determined to keep fighting until he was hacked to pieces.
Storm had dropped to one knee, which was what had frightened Keanin. But, as Jenna watched, the prince drove his sword through the slack-faced attacker’s chest. A second later, Storm rose and engaged another. She had been correct about Storm’s real condition. He was pale, but he was definitely more than holding his own, and from the muscular condition of his shirtless torso it would seem he had been building up his strength for a while.
“Stick with me,” she said to Keanin as she made her way to Storm’s side. If they were going to go under, they might as well go together.
Keanin hesitated, then muttered to himself and followed her. They were attacked twice before they reached the kelar prince and Jenna flung their assailants back with her magic. She began to feel a glow of pride that her magic hadn’t let her down. Just as soon as it started, she chased the thought away. The fight wasn’t over yet, no point in jinxing herself.
“How did they get in?” she yelled to Storm.
“I don’t know. I was talking to Crell when we heard the screams. Luckily she had brought some of her people back with her.” He moved back as a pair of slack-jawed derawri lunged forward. Storm chopped down one, Crell grimly dispatched the other as she moved into the center of the room.
Jenna held back. Her magic would be more of a hindrance than a help in such close quarters.
A second later she was knocked off her feet by a dead-eyed, heavily armed woman. Jenna flung a shock spell at her face, startled into throwing it without restraint, too much Power surged out of her, and she couldn’t regain control of it. Within a heartbeat, the woman was nothing more than cinders.
Jenna didn’t have time to worry about what she’d done, as three of the attackers broke free of the melee. They shoved past whoever was between them and the stairway viciously stabbing and slicing with their knives, until they reached the closest stairway and started climbing. Unlike the rest of the invaders, these three moved with purpose.
Jenna was confused by the fight and wasn’t sure which stairway it was they were going up. Storm, however, recognized it immediately.
“They’re going to the royal chambers!” All of the guards who were able to fought their way to the staircase. Storm tore through the crowd with Jenna and Keanin fighting to keep up. Even Crell was hard pressed to match the prince’s mad dash.
At the top of the stairs and down a short corridor, they came upon the remains of the guards that had protected the queen’s rooms. Jenna averted her eyes, but grimly jumped over them with the others. She also began to draw in Power directly from the realm of chaos.
The main doorway to the royal wing was shattered. Jenna sped up until she was next to Storm. They froze at the doorway to the queen’s chamber. The tableau before them wasn’t good. The queen lay on the floor of her chambers, her eyes were closed, and blood was seeping out from a blow to her head. Jenna sent a tight probe. The queen still clung to life.
Beyond her, two battered and bloody royal guards were fighting a derawri man, a kelar woman, and a short human mage. The three they’d been following.
Jenna’s mouth went dry, and a shrill ringing filled her head. Somewhere in the back of her mind Jenna felt the echo become aware. And something else, something too deep for her to understand. This triad made her blood race. They were more than they seemed, even if she had no idea what. She needed them destroyed, the same way she’d needed the ertin back at Ghortin’s cottage to be extinguished.
Barely able to maintain control, she turned to Keanin and pointed at Storm who had charged into the fight. “Keep him out of my way. Don’t argue.” She was fighting the urge to obliterate the trio so hard that the tension in her neck was almost unbearable; they had to die. Keanin was pale, but he nodded. A second later he’d leveled the prince with a flying tackle and started dragging him back. Even in his weakened state, Storm was stronger than him, but Keanin was taller, and had managed to knock the wind out of Storm for the moment. Crell had obviously worked with mages before, and kept her own people back.
Jenna let the strange urge take over. She didn’t have a choice. At least Storm was now out of the range of fire.
The short human mage turned around as he felt her Power. He snorted in contempt when he saw the single person that faced him. Waving his companions aside, he stepped forward.
It was the last move he ever made.
All the tension in Jenna, all the anger she instinctively felt at this magic fueled monstrosity, flowed out of her like an avenging fire. The mage’s body imploded so quickly that his face still held the look of contempt as it vanished. His two associates had a second longer before their insides went through the same contortions.
Some part of Jenna’s mind felt revulsion at the violence of their deaths. But mostly her mind felt an overwhelming vindication. She could do anything. Nothing could stand before her.
A second later the Power backlash hit her and she lost consciousness, dropping her to the floor like a discarded rag doll.
21
Jenna slowly awoke, and found she was back in her room in the castle. As soon as her eyes opened Helaermage Dantil handed her a glass filled with a murky white substance.
“What is this?” She took a sip and almost spit it back out. The chalky stuff stuck in her throat.
“I know. Tastes awful, doesn’t it? But it’s the best thing for a backlash headache. And I gather you’ve got a huge one.” Dantil smiled.
Jenna peered over the rim of her glass. “The whole thing?” At a nod from the helaermage, she forced the rest of it down. Perhaps Ghortin learned his potion making from the mysterious helaermages.
“Is everyone all right?” She knew many weren’t, but she was worried about her friends.
“We lost eight people. It would have been worse if Crell and her band hadn’t shown up.” Maggie answered from the other side of the bed. “The queen is seriously injured, but she still lives. Justlantin believes that they were trying to take her, not kill her. Keanin and that idiot Corin came out no worse for wear.” The healer frowned heavily. “I told Corin I would tie him to his bed if he ever tried to do something so weak-brained again. Did you know he’d built a training area in an unused room in my House?”
“How did the attackers get in here in the first place? At least one of that final three was a mage, and I think the other two were linked to him somehow. Shouldn’t the Keepers have been triggered or something?” Jenna was still unnerved by her reaction to the trio she killed.
“I’m afraid we aren’t exactly sure,” Maggie said. “Tor Ranshal thinks that they snuck in when he and Edgar triggered the Keepers. No one would have noticed a few extra people i
n the crowd of onlookers and guards that surrounded them.”
“As for the rest, we think they were expendable troops, most likely locals who were spelled, whose sole purpose was to distract the guards and kill as many as possible,” Dantil said. “None of them survived; they killed themselves rather than be captured.”
Maggie took the empty glass from her. “You seem to be fine, but if you notice any strange side effects, I want you to find Dantil or me immediately. Am I understood?”
Jenna nodded weakly. Exhaustion was taking over. That, and more than likely there was something in Dantil’s drink.
She struggled to stay awake; she wanted to tell them about the strange presence that had appeared in her head during the fight. But she found it impossible to keep her eyes open, let alone get any words out.
She didn’t wake again until after the first noon bell. Unlike the chimes of Lithunane, the heavy bells of Irundail were quite loud, and she was amazed that she had slept through the first bells of the morning. Stretching tentatively, she mentally pushed where the headache had been. She sighed as no pain flared up to greet her. That drink of the helaermage’s may have tasted awful, but it did the trick.
She left the castle as soon as she was dressed, wanting to get away from the silent tension that prevailed there. She didn’t want to go to the Healing House either, she just needed to be alone, to sort out what she’d done to that trio, so she wandered in the outer garden. She was so lost in thought that she didn’t notice Keanin sitting on the grass until she almost stepped on him.
“How do you feel?” His voice was so subdued Jenna had to check to see that it was really him. There were lines on his angular face that hadn’t been there yesterday, and the dark circles under his eyes told her he’d gotten no sleep.
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