by Lisa Shearin
“Have you cleaned the uniform you were wearing when the Rak’kari attacked you?” Cuinn asked Mychael.
“No, it’s still in my quarters. With all the residue, the tunic’s probably beyond saving.”
The mirror mage’s eyes lit with barely disguised glee. “What kind of residue?”
“Web slime mostly.”
“Good. I need that tunic, and any clothing Director Sevelien was wearing that might have come in contact with the Rak’kari. Each of the known dimensions that are accessible from our own has a distinct environment. If the Rak’kari was conjured elsewhere, there’s a good chance it could have had residue from its dimension of origin.”
Tam nodded in agreement. “Let’s figure out where it came from. Finding those Khrynsani and making them stop is imperative.”
From his fierce expression, Tam wanted to be at the front of the “make the Khrynsani stop” line. And I didn’t think he intended to leave anything for the rest of us.
“That settles it,” Tam said. “I need to look inside that mirror.”
Chapter 14
No one liked Tam going into the mirror, but being a dark mage, he’d had experience dealing with elementals. He’d never personally created a Rak’kari, but by being a perpetual thorn in Sarad Nukpana and the Khrynsani’s collective side almost all of his life, he’d had experience staying alive on the numerous occasions when an elemental had been sent to kill him, which made him the most qualified to dangle himself as bait—most qualified in that he was the most likely to survive should what grabbed Markus grab him.
There was also the possibility of a Rak’kari having been put inside the citadel’s goblin mirror specifically to attack Tam. If that was the case, anyone else stepping inside wouldn’t trigger an attack.
Yep, that was the actual plan, believe it or not.
Trigger an attack with Tam as bait.
Imala wasn’t seeing the logic—or sanity—in Tam’s plan.
As little as any of us wanted to follow through with this, it was necessary. We had to know if the attack on Markus had been isolated, or part of a Khrynsani evil master plan. If it wasn’t isolated, our next step would be to determine whether only the citadel’s mirrors were affected, or whether the infiltration extended to the rest of Mid—or God help us, beyond.
Tam had sent a message via Ben down in the contact room to the royal mirror chamber in the Mal’Salin palace in Regor. Tam’s teachers, Kesyn Badru and A’Zahra Nuru, were now waiting on that end along with some of Tam’s dark mage school buddies, now royal guards. Cuinn Aviniel would activate the mirror here. Once the tunnel had formed, Tam would step through. The goal wasn’t to travel the hundreds of miles back to Regor, it was to trigger the Rak’kari attack that Tam had avoided yesterday by coming to Mid via the Passages. However, we’d made sure that both destinations were prepared for what might happen.
Tam was wearing one of Mychael’s suits of battle armor. This particular suit provided complete head-to-toe coverage, including the face, with narrow lenses for the eyes. Like Mychael’s other suits of armor, this one fit like a second skin; and since Tam and Mychael were pretty much the same size, it fit the same way on Tam. Set into the center of the armor’s chestplate was a spy gem. Time was different inside the Void. To Tam, a second of time would pass. In the Void, he would be there much longer. The gem would record what really happened.
That was the other big reason for Tam turning himself into bait—to get a look inside the tunnel that formed, and hopefully a hazy look out into the Void. According to Cuinn, the walls of a mirror tunnel were mostly opaque. However, occasional transparent sections provided glimpses out into the Void.
“I have to say, if you’re going to die, we’ll be dragging a fine-looking corpse back through that mirror,” Imala noted. Her arms were crossed, her dark eyes set on glare, and she was most decidedly not happy.
“The armor will provide ample protection,” Tam told her.
“You’ve done this before.” It wasn’t a question.
“No.”
“So your survival is mere theory.”
“Technically, yes.”
Imala went with more glaring.
Tam’s expression softened and he stepped forward and put his hands around her shoulders. Brave man, playing monster spider bait and getting within fist and knee range of Imala Kalis. Either brave or suicidal. Since Tam was a goblin, there was a good chance it could be both.
“If the Khrynsani are behind this, once the other delegates find out—and they will—they’ll think Chigaru ordered it.”
“And you getting yourself killed will prove them wrong. Brilliant plan.”
“Imala, would anyone else stand a better chance of survival?”
Silence. Silence that said Tam was right and Imala didn’t want him to be. None of us did.
“I’ll only be gone for a few seconds.”
“In our time. In Void time, it’ll be like leisurely dragging a baited hook through shark-infested waters.”
“Imala, I haven’t survived all that I have for as long as I have to be killed by a spider regardless of how big it is. I’d die of embarrassment first.”
In addition to the armor, Tam would be covered in his best shielding spells. And to ensure Mychael didn’t have to go flailing around in a mirror again with an unprotected arm, Tam was also wearing a steel harness attached to a steel cable. Attached to the other end of the cable were four huge Guardians wearing armored gauntlets. If something snatched Tam in there, they’d snatch him right back here.
Ben and his scrying bowl had set up shop in a room just down the hall, with a Guardian stationed at the closed door to relay any message. Regular noise didn’t bother Ben, but the yelling and cursing that could occur if we had to get Tam out of that mirror fast would be distracting to say the least.
All the precautions that could be taken had been taken.
Mychael put on a pair of gauntlets and added himself as the fifth Guardian manning that cable. Naturally, he went to the front of the line, so if they caught anything they couldn’t handle on their Tam-baited line, Mychael would be the first one to get yanked in. Mychael, being Mychael, wasn’t about to allow any of his men to do anything he wouldn’t do himself.
I gave him a look that, while not at an Imala level of glare, let him know that I took a dim view of his amendment to Tam’s plan.
The crystal signal pad set into the frame of the goblin mirror turned green.
“Regor’s ready, gentlemen,” Cuinn said. “Are we?”
Tam took a breath and lowered the visor on his helmet. “As much as I’m going to be.”
“Knights?” Mychael asked.
“They’re ready, sir.” Vegard was standing by with a pair of now glowing short swords, hoping that should he need to use them, they’d work against either spider or web.
“Have a nice trip,” I said before I could stop myself.
Tam stepped through.
Moments passed.
Cuinn’s control of the mirror never wavered.
Then the cable jerked. Hard.
Mychael pulled. “Get him out! Now!”
I was strong for my size, but I’d just be in the way, and I hated it. But my hating it didn’t change the fact that the best thing I could do to help Tam would be to stay out of the way.
The cable snapped, and an instant later Mychael and his Guardians were piled on the floor. Before any of them could get to their feet, Tam fell out of the mirror, armor smoking from what looked like acid burns covering his entire body.
Tam wrenched the helmet off and threw it aside.
He stripped off what he could reach, and Mychael and his Guardians scrambled to their feet and all but tore off the rest. Beneath the armor, Tam wore a quilted arming jacket and trousers. The pieces were laced on and buckled. The cloth and padding inside were melting.
Imala instantly had a dagger in her hand and was slicing through leather straps and laces, and the linen undergarments beneath.
In moments, Tam was as naked as the day he’d been born.
There wasn’t a burn mark on him.
And there wasn’t anything else wrong with him, either.
I’d never seen Tam naked, and from the borderline embarrassed expression on Imala’s face, this was a first-timer for her, too.
“Do I really want to know what just happened here?” Justinius Valerian stood in the open doorway, surveying the nudity, dissolving armor, and generalized chaos.
“Apparently Rak’kari venom isn’t limited to dissolving flesh,” Tam noted, making no move to cover anything.
Justinius nodded. “Uh-huh.”
Mychael quickly detached the spy gem from the still bubbling chestplate lying on the floor. The gem and the area around it appeared to be undamaged. “This will show us what happened inside the mirror tunnel.”
He started telling Justinius what had resulted in Tam’s unclothed state when the goblin mirror flashed a bright, acid green.
Cuinn got his hands back up and pushed back. “What the hell is—”
A massive spider leapt through the mirror straight at Tam and Imala.
I didn’t think. I reacted.
I dove between it and the two goblins, instinctively putting my hands in front of me, either to protect myself or will the thing to stop.
Both were stupid. Neither worked.
My world turned crimson and I screamed.
I also must have squeezed my eyes shut against my impending messy death.
When my skin didn’t start melting from spider spit, I took a quick peek.
The Rak’kari’s head—complete with fangs dripping skin-dissolving venom—was right in front of my face. And I do mean right in front of. The spider was the size of a werehound. But it couldn’t get any closer. The reason why was just as terrifying as the spider itself.
I kept my now trembling hands out in front of me, fingers spread, mere inches from the exterior of what looked like a Rak’kari-sized sphere.
A deep red sphere.
It looked like a big Saghred, except that I could clearly see what was inside, and what was inside could see me, and it was pissed.
I echoed Cuinn’s sentiment, albeit a couple of octaves higher. “What the hell?”
“You did it, girl,” Justinius said.
“I know I did it. Again, what the hell?”
“I’m starting to have a theory,” was all he said.
Oh, that didn’t sound good.
The red glow began to fade, leaving a clear sphere floating in midair, giving us all an even better look at what I’d somehow managed to contain. Venom was frothing around the Rak’kari’s fangs, dripping down the insides of the sphere, and pooling at the bottom.
I was trying not to hyperventilate, and not doing a good job.
“How long will it hold?” Cuinn asked.
“How am I supposed to know?”
“You made it.”
“And I don’t know how.”
“We need to get it into a containment room,” Mychael said, his voice perfectly calm.
Glad one of us was.
“How are we gonna do that? Roll it down the hall?”
“Do you think you can walk it there?” Justinius asked. “You don’t look like you’re going to be dropping it anytime soon.”
“If that venom eats through the bottom, that’s exactly what I’ll be doing, followed by running.”
“No, you won’t.”
“I won’t?”
The old man shook his head.
I growled. “You’re right. I’ll stand my ground like an idiot and try to redo what I did right up until it bites me and sucks my brains out.”
“I can push and guide it,” Mychael said, still the epitome of calm.
Justinius pushed up his voluminous sleeves. “And I’ll back you up, if you need it.” He flashed what he probably meant to be an encouraging smile. “Just hold it steady, girl. We’ll do the steering.”
Chapter 15
Most of the citadel’s containment rooms had air vents. This one didn’t. The Rak’kari didn’t need air, and none of us that did would be going in the room with it.
The room did have an observation window. The glass wasn’t really glass, and could withstand any known corrosive, as could the coating and spells on the stone walls.
I didn’t trust either one.
The sphere containing the Rak’kari was inside a magically enhanced steel cage. I didn’t trust that, either.
I definitely didn’t trust the sphere.
Or where I was starting to suspect it’d come from.
The first time it had manifested, my new magic had dissolved a strand of Rak’kari web around Mychael’s throat, which at the time had looked and felt less like web and more like rope. Now, I’d caught and contained an actual Rak’kari, a monster Tam had said were rarely conjured because they couldn’t be controlled, even by the most powerful Khrynsani dark mages.
The time for worrying about what was happening to me had passed.
The time for finding out what it was had arrived under full sail.
Mychael was arranging security for the Rak’kari. Justinius was standing to my right, Imala and a now-clothed Tam on my left. We were all looking through the observation window at what had attacked Tam and what I had unwittingly caught.
“Sir, you said you had a theory.” I never took my eyes from the eight-legged captive. “What is it?”
“It’s just a theory. Your papa might have a better idea.”
“Your theories are sounder than most mage’s facts. What is it?”
“For one, I don’t think that beastie is going anywhere until you let it out.”
“I don’t plan on doing that anytime soon. Not to mention, I don’t know how.”
“I wasn’t suggesting that you let it out. Just saying that if that orb’s made out of what I think it is, that thing’s in there for good.”
Suddenly I felt like I was the one in the airtight room. “You said orb.”
“I did. You and Mychael told me what happened when you destroyed the Saghred. You stabbed it with the Scythe of Nen, the souls left, Reapers were standing by to take the souls.”
He turned away from the window and toward me. I stayed right where I was, staring at the spider. I wasn’t ready to look into those intense blue eyes. Not yet. I didn’t want to see what the knot in my gut was telling me was the truth.
“Your hand was fused to the Saghred the entire time,” he said.
Justinius really didn’t expect an answer. I needed to give him one, to say it out loud. Some things were less terrifying if you gave them voice.
“Yes.”
“When the Saghred was empty, it wasn’t red any longer, but your hand was still locked to it.”
“Yes.”
“Then you removed the Scythe of Nen, reversed it, bringing the pommel down on the Saghred and destroying it. But until that instant, you still couldn’t pull your hand away.”
“No, I couldn’t.”
Silence filled the hallway.
“But the souls that powered it were gone,” Tam said. “Kesyn said it was almost clear enough to see through.”
“Just because you can see through something doesn’t mean it’s empty,” Justinius said.
I didn’t like hearing that, or what it implied.
The Saghred hadn’t asked me what I wanted when it bonded itself to me. And it sure hadn’t asked me what I’d wanted when I’d been trying to destroy it.
“In those last seconds, it was afraid,” I heard myself say. “It was trying to save itself—any way it could. When I stabbed it with the Scythe, it was like driving that dagger into my own guts.”
Tam glanced behind me. Mychael was there. He’d been there long enough to have heard enough.
“You were standing next to her that night,” Tam said to him. “Did you see anything? Or sense?”
“Nothing.”
I could see my fiancé and our friends reflected in the glass i
n front of me. My eyes were directed at the spider, but I wasn’t seeing it. I was seeing myself, seeing what I now knew I was. When words made it out, they were quiet and even. “You’re saying that whatever gave the Saghred its power, its core, whatever made it what it was, is now inside of me.” It wasn’t a question. There was no use asking a question when you already knew the answer. “Basically, I destroyed the Saghred’s body. I have what’s left of the Saghred’s soul. To save itself, the last soul the Saghred took through me was its own.”
“The Saghred was neither good nor evil,” Mychael said to reassure me. “It was power. It was the Khrynsani who used that power for evil. We’ve talked about this. You’re not evil and you never will be.”
“The Saghred has always needed to be fed,” I said.
“Feeling an urge to slurp souls?” Justinius asked.
I finally turned and looked at him, at all of them. “No, I don’t.”
“Then you’re not going to slurp souls.”
The old man was rational thought personified. I wished I could have been calm and rational about what was happening to me. I was treading new ground—historically, monumentally new ground.
“Yes, you are.” His hand reached down and took mine, his thin fingers closing around my fingers, surprisingly warm, and even more surprisingly comforting.
He smiled as I started finding air to breathe again.
“So the reason why my magic’s unreliable is that I have some unknown power in residence and it’s still getting settled into its new home.”
Vegard’s voice came from behind us all. He sounded proud, not afraid. “Ma’am, Piaras isn’t the only one who’s going to end up in the Guardian histories as a legend.”
*
In addition to his scrying bowl, Ben had brought a crystal ball up from the communication room. Now we gathered around to watch what had been captured on the spy gem Tam had worn.
We were down the hall from the citadel mirror room. The goblin mirror had been closed, locked, and completely secured. Depending on what we saw in that crystal ball, those actions might be extended to every other mirror in the citadel—at the very least.