“Follow me. I’ve got an idea.”
He veered like a hawk on wing, rolling over with an envious grace as he shifted directions and headed west towards the waterfall. Etienne took a wider, more comfortable turn, trying to ignore the cold wind searing her face. The angle allowed her to momentarily glance backwards.
Turlough’s men who still wore Lunari stones were launching themselves from the now stable platform in pursuit. Turlough himself was shouting for the navigator to follow as close as possible. Etienne turned back to face the waterfall, a giant wall of wild moisture shearing a wide path down the edge of the crater to form the river below.
Whatever Fenelon had in mind, Etienne hoped it would work. For this time, she suspected Turlough would not forego the use of a gag to still her tongue.
~
“You’re pulling far too much essence from me,” Vagner thought as he cautiously walked along the tall, narrow corridor of glittering stone in the wake of the young mageborn pair.
Tane’s greed for power to renew himself was taking more toll on the demon than he liked.
“I take what I need,” the bloodmage whispered back through the mind link he now shared with the demon. “It is not your place to question, but rather to give me what I desire…”
“Even if you risk killing me?” responded in kind, and wondered if his link to Alaric would give this conversation away.
“I own you, demon,” Tane said, not bothering to hide his contempt. “I have every right to kill you, considering that you betrayed me.”
“Only because you betrayed me,” the demon retorted. “You left me to die, still wrapped in that wretched child’s form.”
“You deserved that punishment and more.”
“Indeed?” the demon thought. “Yet had I not managed to survive, would you now have the opportunity to fulfill your goal to be a god? You failed to get all of his knowledge, remember? If he had died, and I had died, you would never have found a means to get to the Dragon’s Tongue. So much for all your plotting, lost on a whim for vengeance. You made the mistake of not making certain you had the whole key…”
“Chide me not, monster!” Tane snapped, and Vagner felt a lash of pain ripping into him with his True Name. It took effort not to cry out… To keep moving step by step. “I could just as easily make your death swift and painful right now!”
“And just as easily reveal yourself in the process,” Vagner hissed in his mind. “For if I were to die now, the spell that currently protects you from detection would die as well. Are you ready to sacrifice your precious prize, all for the pleasure of punishing me? I doubt very much the little master would willingly lead you to what you seek once he knows you are here.”
“They are children compared to me, demon,” Tane said. “I could master them because they would have nothing to fight with, while I would have all your essence. With that, I could force them to take me to the Dragon’s Tongue, and there would be nothing they could do to resist…”
“Are you so certain of that victory?” Vagner challenged. “My essence would not last you as long as you think it would. And the magic in this place is well beyond your grasp, or you would have used it instead of my essence to renew yourself. But have you not noticed how that same power that eludes you favors the little bard? Where do you think he gets the power to sustain that mage light? Not from me. Are you truly ready to risk all you have sought for?”
Silence resonated in the demon’s head. He could feel the controlled intake of a deep breath being slowly released. Tane had apparently realized he was mistaken in his assumption. “Very well, beast. You have made your point and earned yourself a reprieve for now. But remember, once I have the Dragon’s Tongue, I will no longer need you or your essence. Nor will I have mercy to spare you for your insolence. You will die, and they will die, and all the power in this place will be useless to Alaric Braidwine once I have Dragon’s Tongue in my grasp.”
As if you ever had any mercy to spare, Vagner thought privately.
If there was any way to see to Tane’s failure, the demon would gladly act upon it. But for now, as long as he had Tane close, sucking his essence like some bloated leach, there was nothing he could risk doing.
Bide your time, Vagner told himself. The opportunity will come.
He would keep those thoughts a secret, knowing it would require effort for Tane to probe the demon’s inner mind. But at least, the bloodmage eased up his draw of Vagner’s essence, leaving the demon free to walk with a little more strength.
FIFTY SEVEN
The walls are getting closer. Alaric tried to convince himself this could not be possible. He had even stretched his arms out at his sides to reassure himself. Fingertips could not brush both sides at the same time. And the ceiling was invisible in the shadows high above him, far out of the distance of his mage light. Plenty of space. Plenty…Really.
No, the walls are getting closer. He could tell. Experience had taught him these things. He knew very well the walls were getting closer and…
“It’s only the shadows,” Ronan whispered in Alaric’s head. “Just an illusion.”
An illusion. Yes. Just an illusion. Alaric took a deep breath and kept moving slowly. He had plenty of room. More space than he could imagine. Yes…There was room to spare.
His gaze fell on the smooth, glassy floor. Here and there, bits of obsidian rubble littered the path. Nothing major. And there were cracks, as if something had fractured the ground. Of course, it did occur to Alaric that obsidian was not the strongest of stones. That it flaked and chipped and was easily shattered. Why, it would probably take very little effort to collapse these walls and bury him in a heap of dagger-sharp slag. Sort of like when the trees started falling in the forest…
Alaric paused, and Shona almost crashed into him. She cursed under her breath.
“A little warning, please,” she said.
“Sorry,” he said softly. I just think we need to move more quietly from here.”
“Why?” Shona asked.
“Because we don’t want to bring the walls down,” he said.
“Oh?” Shona glanced at their surroundings. “Do you think we could?”
“I don’t want to find out the hard way,” Alaric said. Even the thought of being buried in a close space under tons of stone caused his palms to grow clammy. He forced himself to start on at a slower pace, commanding his mage light to move ahead. The path really was starting to look narrower. He stretched his arms once more, eager to see if he could touch both sides.
No, not yet. Then again, beyond the bare edges of his magelight, he swore the walls were drawing closer together…In fact, as his light moved on, there was something of an odd angle to the way it reflected off the walls. As if the path before him had taken a sudden turn. What? The path didn’t turn. The wall was now crossing the path…
Alaric stopped. “The path is blocked,” he said.
“Oh dear, now what are we to do?” Shona said.
“I don’t know…I don’t remember…” Alaric frowned, staring at the wall. It reminded him too much of the one in his head, the one that became soft and fell away when Tane…
“The wall that is no longer there,” Ronan said.
There’s a wall here right now, Alaric argued in his head.
“Your eyes deceive you,” Ronan said. “You’re frightened, and fear clouds your vision. You see what you want to see, not what is truly there. This wall is nothing more than an illusion. Go on.”
Go on? Are you insane? Alaric held his place, feeling as though the stone leaned over him on purpose.
“I swear to you, Lark. It is nothing more than an illusion. Trust me. Touch it.”
Alaric hesitated, then put forth a hand. He expected to find cold stone under his probing fingers. Instead, his whole hand disappeared into the wall. He gasped and drew back.
“By the Silver Wheel,” Shona said. She reached around him and touched the wall. A giggle escaped her as her hand disappeared. “This is the str
angest thing I have ever seen.”
She put the other hand in, and stood there, reminding Alaric of the stories his father told of how in the old days, thieves were deprived of their hands.
“Look, Vagner,” she called cheerfully. “No hands!”
The demon chuckled uneasily. Shona caught the look of stern reproach that briefly flickered across Alaric’s face before he could stop himself. Shona bit her lip and withdrew her hands, and it was obvious that she was trying hard not to smile.
“See,” Ronan chided with a laugh. “It’s just an illusion. Go. You must pass through it to reach our goal.”
Alaric sighed. He pushed his magelight in, then his arm up to the shoulder, feeling nothing out of the ordinary. Still, he could not help but draw a deep breath, like a swimmer about to plunge into a lake before he pushed in his head.
Beyond the wall, it was black and close, and he could not see his magelight. With a gasp, he jerked back, staggering into Shona. Horns! It was close and dark and he had no idea how far it went.
“A good hundred cubits, as I recall,” Ronan said. “It was meant to dissuade all but the true knowing…”
“A hundred cubits!” Alaric blurted.
“What?” Shona said.
“It goes on for a hundred cubits!” Alaric cried, feeling panic stifle his breath and sharpen his voice.
“And that means?” Shona said.
“We could get lost in there…” he said.
Shona’s face shifted into a dubious stare. “So…if there’s a natural wall, we could just feel our way along.”
“She’s right,” Ronan said.
Alaric still balked. Darkness. Close spaces. Narrow paths. What did it matter that there was a natural wall, especially if it closed in on him and he was unable to see it. His heat began beating faster. Icy fear trickled over his skin.
“Alaric,” Shona said. “What’s the matter?”
“I…” He stopped. How could he admit to her he was afraid? He loathed such spaces. Being underground even with magelight to aid him was bad enough, but being in an impenetrable dark that so resembled being trapped in a trunk…A prisoner in a tiny space…A small boy screaming his lungs out in terror as his sisters latched the cover of the grain bin and left him there…
Alaric closed his eyes. Too many images flooded his mind. Being Tane’s prisoner. Shoved into a trunk. Held in a chamber where his magic could not be felt.
He needed open spaces, bright light and fresh air. His lungs were heaving like bellows now. Sweat poured from every pore, dampening his clothes and making him shiver even more. Just as his thoughts were drowning him in terror, and all sense of self assurance was unraveling like old cloth.
Alaric turned abruptly. “No, I can’t do this,” he said. He pushed past Shona, stumbling towards Vagner, thinking only that once he got past the demon, he could get out of this cave.
“Alaric, wait!” Shona cried and bolted after him. “Vagner, stop him!”
“Out of my way!” Alaric shouted and rushed the demon in a threatening manner.
“No, stop him, Vagner!” Ronan roared in Alaric’s head, and then, the bard sang the demon’s True Name.
Vagner held his place, looking startled to hear the command from another, and to know he had no choice but to obey. Alaric pushed on, determined to get out of the caverns, when the demon suddenly stepped into his path and seized him by the shoulders. Confusion filled Vagner’s face.
“Let go!” Alaric shouted and flailed uselessly at the grasp. “I have to get out of here. Can’t you see? I have to get out of here…” His voice broke into breathy sobs as he continued to struggle.
“Alaric!” Shona said. She caught up with them, pulling Alaric around in spite of Vagner’s grip. Alaric started to flail at her grasp as well, for the age old fear that now surged through him had blinded his sensibilities. Somewhere deep inside, it occurred to him that he should question why Vagner had obeyed Ronan and not himself, but on the surface, all he wanted to do was escape.
But he was trapped between the demon and the young woman who pushed his flailing hands aside with almost practiced ease and seized his face, forcing him to look at her.
“Alaric,” she said. “Listen to me. Stop this at once…”
His struggles weakened. Clearly, there was no escape. The utter sense of defeat left him limp and forlorn. He met her gaze, unable to stop tears from springing into his eyes.
“I can’t. I can’t go in there. I can’t,” he said weakly.
“Why not?” she asked in a soothing voice, stroking his cheek and pushing back his hair. “Are you afraid of the dark?”
He blinked, then shook his head. “Not the dark…the…space…the closeness of the space…I…”
“It’s all right,” Shona said. She glanced up at Vagner. The demon relaxed his grip, then let go. Alaric practically fell to his knees which had grown too soft to support him. Shona knelt before him, still keeping contact.
“Why?” she asked.
“Why what?” He looked at her and felt his face burning with shame. She must think me a weak fool.
“Why are you afraid of small spaces?” she asked.
There was no mockery in her gaze. Only genuine concern. He took a deep breath, slowly letting the words flow. “It started when I was small. Because I was the youngest and the only son, my sisters thought I was such a pest. So when they didn’t want to look after me as Mother instructed, they would…they would close me into a cupboard or a grain bin and not let me out, sometimes for hours, and I would scream and no one would come.”
“It’s okay,” Shona said. Her arms slipped around him and drew him close. “I understand. You don’t have to be ashamed. ‘Tis a strong man who willingly admits he’s afraid.”
The comforting tone of her voice—or perhaps, it was the comfort of her touch—took his fears away. He hid his face in her shoulder, slipping arms around her and holding tight, and her warmth soothed him. For moments, they said nothing. Then slowly, his heart stopped marching and his chest stopped feeling as though someone had laced him up in a tight leather jerkin.
“Listen,” Shona said at last. “I will make you a promise. I’ll stay with you. I’ll talk to you. I’ll even hold onto you, if it helps. I’ll get you through the dark barrier and beyond. But you have to promise me one thing.”
“What?” he asked, drawing back from her.
“That if I ever see a bee and start screaming like a ninny, you won’t make fun of me,” she said, and her cheeks flushed.
“You’re afraid of bees?” he said, one eyebrow rising.
Shona nodded. “So you have to promise. You’ll be my bee slayer, and I will make your small spaces seem bigger. Agreed?”
“Can I just shoo the bees away?” Alaric asked. “I mean, slaying bees is overly dramatic even for me, and besides, I’m rather fond of honey.”
“All right,” she said, “but you must promise to do whatever one does to make bees go away.”
“Well, generally, you smoke the hive and…” He caught the look on her face. “All right, I’ll be your champion and smoke the bees away for you, and you can be my guiding light in small places.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” she said, crawling to her feet and offering him her hand.
Alaric took it and stood. His mage light globe had dwindled to a pale shimmering in his panic, but now he fed it again and watched it shine more brightly than before. Shona still held his hand as they made for the wall. There, he paused and took a deep breath. Shona moved to the side and put her hand on the real wall. With a deep breath, she plunged into the barrier, leading Alaric. His vision washed black, and he could not stifle a startled gasp.
“It’s all right,” Shona said, her grasp tightening. “I’m still here.”
Alaric sighed. “Tell me,” he said. “Why are you afraid of bees?”
“It happened when I was five,” Shona said. All I wanted to do was fetch more honey for my oatmeal, and I honestly thought bees just gave honey
to you the same way cows give milk…”
She spoke on. Alaric closed his eyes, letting the cadence of her voice and the strength of her hand guided him along the path he could not see.
He realized then just how much he trusted her.
~
“What drivel,” Tane whispered to Vagner’s mind. “All this talk of bees and farming is boring me.”
The demon said nothing. Even Vagner’s eyes could not see in this strange dark and the conversation was offering him a means of guiding himself. Furthermore, the magic that wrought it stung like tiny bees. He wondered if Tane could feel the same sensations. He hoped so. He still wasn’t certain why Tane had not noticed when Ronan commanded the demon to stop Alaric. But then, all this strange magic felt as though it was connected to the bard’s spirit in some familiar way.
“When I have the Dragon’s Tongue, the first thing I will do is order you to bite off that silly young woman’s head,” Tane continued.
“What if I don’t want to?” Vagner thought.
“What?”
“I rather like Shona,” the demon said.
“You like her?” Tane’s thought were rife with mocking humor. “And I suppose you think she has a certain fondness for you as well?”
“We are friends,” the demon replied. “She has been kind to me. They all have, except for Fenelon. Now, his head, I would bite off tiny little pieces at a time if it pleased you…”
“It would indeed,” Tane said.
“But it would not please Alaric,” the demon added.
Tane sighed. “I do not see the point in this conversation. If I order you to bite off her head, you will do it…”
“And if Alaric orders otherwise?” Vagner wore a secret grin. “After all, I am bound to him as well…”
“I will deal with him when the time comes, you impudent monster!” Tane snarled. “Now hurry. This dark is making me itch. Damn the magic in this place. It burns like nettles. You’re supposed to protect me…”
“It burns me as well,” Vagner said. “I cannot protect you from the pain when I cannot protect myself…”
“Then hurry,” Tane ordered. “The sooner we reach the Dragon’s Tongue, the better.”
Dragon's Tongue: Book One of the Demon-Bound Page 44