by Dave Gross
"Run!" advised Chaney. "You can't stop him!"
The guard turned to question his companion just as Radu emerged from the darkness.
"Sorry," said Chaney.
He stepped out of the possessed guard's body just as the man's partner felt Radu's blade sever his spine.
The guard Chaney had inhabited shook his head and blinked at the sight of his fallen companion. He raised his sword to defend himself, but Radu beat it aside effortlessly. The assassin's blade dipped neatly into the man's throat.
Chaney knew he'd given the guard no time to escape, even if he could apprehend his peril in the second before his death. Still, the ghost didn't want to find out what would happen to him if he was in the man's body at the moment of death. Perhaps nothing, since he was already dead and bound to Radu. He wanted time to give the matter more thought before he dared to experiment.
Chaney consoled himself in the knowledge that his shout had started an alarm all around the house. First a chain of voices, and a rapid, resounding bell alerted all within Stormweather Towers to the danger.
"Now you're well and truly buggered," said Chaney. "No point in going on, now that the entire house is alerted. Maybe you could take a nice holiday along the southern Moonsea. You could use some sun."
Radu ignored both Chaney's jibes and the disintegrating bodies of the guards and pulled on the kitchen door. It remained firmly shut.
"I'm guessing about now you're wishing you'd taken his keys before killing your guide," said Chaney. "Let's get out of here."
The vapors of his victims finally caught up to Radu. They rushed over his body, then into his face, through the holes in his mask, and finally-Chaney imagined-into his mouth and nostrils.
Radu gasped at the massive influx of power. It wracked his body and threw the sword from his hand.
"Oh, dark and empty," gulped Chaney.
An instant later, the magical feedback reached him, too. It blasted the very memory of substance from his mind, unraveled all his reason, and scrubbed the vision from his eyes. For an eternity or a second, all he knew was a universe of white screams.
When reality returned, it was a sensation of motion. Radu dragged Chaney by his invisible leash through the splintered kitchen door. The staff had long since gone to bed, except for Brilla, the chief cook. She clutched a trembling knife in one hand as she pressed her plump body against the far wall. Chaney remembered the woman fondly, for she'd always been kind to him even as the other servants avoided young master Talbot's scurrilous friend. He was glad to see Radu had wasted no time for killing her before he sought his target.
He felt the tug and got his feet beneath him. He ran to catch up to Radu, but something blocked his way.
Chaney realized he could still hear the screams from the recent influx of life. Barely visible, even to his sight, the ghostly images of Radu's victims huddled all around him. They clutched at Chaney's clothes and hair like palsied beggars craving a coin. One of them grasped his knees in the ancient gesture of petition. Chaney looked down at the demented face of the man he'd possessed. Confusion and betrayal swelled in his eyes.
Those damnable eyes. They would not stop looking at him.
"All right," he said. "All right. I'll think of something."
The phantoms released him, and Chaney ran out of the kitchen.
He found Radu in the long passage between the feast hall and the kitchens. Radu stood near the center of the corridor, crouched in a swordsman's guard. A white halo blazed around his head as the surplus of unholy energy burned from his saturated body.
Radu put his back to the huge oaken feast hall door. To either side and across from him, ranks of mounted armor lined the walls, each beneath the personal insignia of its former owner. House guards stood before either end of the corridor. They held their target shields before them, edges overlapping to form a wall over which they thrust the points of their swords. With the help of the empty armor, they surrounded the intruder. Slowly they marched toward the center of the hall, hedging him in where he had no escape.
Radu spun around and kicked the feast hall door. His foot shot through the thick wood, creating a hole just large enough to reveal the ranks of house guards already waiting behind it.
Chaney allowed himself a brief smile of satisfaction at seeing his nemesis cornered, then he sank into the body of one of the house guards, careful not to take one from the front ranks. Merging with the man's body felt like forcing himself into a pool of cool mud. It was more difficult than possessing the guard at the kitchen door but far easier than forcing his way into Radu Malveen.
"He means to kill Tamlin!" shouted Chaney. "Be careful, he's inhumanly strong and deadly with that blade. Take him down with spears!"
A man wearing a sergeant's braid looked incredulously at Chaney's host and said, "How do you-?"
"Oops," said Chaney.
He stepped out of the guard's body into the sergeant's, earning an instant promotion.
"Do it!" said Chaney with his new authority. "Summon reinforcements with spears."
One look at the cornered assassin told him that Radu had heard his command and understood its true source. He glanced up to see the higher reaches of the grand stairway.
"Look out!" shouted Chaney. "He's-"
Radu had already leaped fifteen feet up to the second floor. He ran toward the east wing-
Toward Tamlin's bedchamber.
"That's a stroke of luck," said one of the guards near Chaney.
"What do you mean?"
"The master is still down in the cellars, overseeing the-"
"Oh, dark," said Chaney.
The ghost had long feared that he and Radu each heard what the other did, as demonstrated by his own recent "eavesdropping" on the message Drakkar sent the assassin. Before he could say anything else to the guards, Chaney felt himself pulled from the sergeant, toward Radu.
On the lower floor.
Even amid the shouts and alarms throughout the house, Chaney heard the constant moaning of his spectral choir. They floated all around him, no longer content to lurk in the shadows. Something had stirred them. Chaney wondered whether there was a limit to the number of souls Radu could contain. Or perhaps the ghosts sensed something Chaney himself could not, some dread oracle of disaster.
Chaney willed himself along the tether that bound him to Radu. The motion carried him through the marble tiles, past the stone foundation, and into the rocky soil beneath. At last he emerged in a stairway of unadorned stone. There, Radu fought a hulking figure in Uskevren livery.
Chaney recognized Vox, Tamlin's voiceless bodyguard. Because his friend Talbot had always hated the brute, so had Chaney. Old rancor was nothing compared to their current, common purpose.
The big man fought a holding action. He'd already dropped his big axe in favor of a pair of heavy, notched knives-sword-breakers. Each time his foe's blade thrust toward him, Vox parried in an effort to catch Radu's slender blade in the teeth of his own weapons. Even if he were not aware of the horrid effects of death at Radu's hand, Vox was taking no chances. That he was fighting in pure defense suggested that he expected help from above.
Unfortunately, the mute couldn't call for help.
Possessing the man would only distract him and hasten his death. Trying to do the same to Radu had already proven futile. Chaney simply didn't have the power to overcome the assassin's implacable will, especially when the man was so fully empowered by the spirits of the dead.
The same spirits that circled Chaney, moaning and pulling at him. What were they trying to tell him?
"Blast me for an imbecile!" Chaney cried.
He had failed to possess the assassin, but he'd tried it alone, without the obvious help that surrounded him. Chaney beckoned the other ghosts to follow him. As one, the wave of souls rose above Radu Malveen, and plunged into his body.
It felt like diving into churning ice water, but this time Chaney wasn't paralyzed. Rather, he could feel his own touch on Radu's arms and legs. It was
like grasping the limbs of a life-sized marionette.
Except this puppet fought back. Chaney felt a black force struggling against his own will. It wrestled him for control of Radu's limbs and sought to thrust him from his body.
He tried speaking through Radu's mouth, but the most he could evoke was a low gasp. Instead, he jerked the man's sword arm out of his defensive line.
Vox hesitated, apparently sensing a trick.
"Doo iiitt…" croaked Chaney through Radu's mangled throat, then he kicked out, tumbling Radu's body down on the stairs.
He looked up at Vox, imploring him with his borrowed eyes to strike before it was too late. The barbarian squinted, and for a moment Chaney thought Vox could see through Radu's mask, even through his skull, into the ghosts that lay beneath the flesh.
The barbarian inverted his sword-breakers and plunged them into Radu's belly. One of them sank so deeply that it bit hard into the stone stairs and stuck fast.
The twin wounds were exploding stars in Chaney's brain. The pain threatened to overwhelm his will, to force him to retreat from this agonized body. He felt his hold on Radu wavering, but he struggled to hold fast. For an instant, he had never felt so powerful, so certain of his success. He watched through Radu's eyes as Vox pulled free one of his sword-breakers and raised it for the coup de grace.
All at once, the other ghosts fled, leaving Chaney helpless and alone within Radu's body.
"Cowards," spat Chaney.
Radu's lips didn't echo his sentiment. Instead, he kicked Vox in the chest with such force that the big man flew backward into the slanting stone ceiling.
Even within his prison of bone and flesh, Chaney could hear the horrible crack of Vox's skull against the stone-first against the ceiling, then again upon the stone steps. There he lay, as still as death.
Realizing he'd lost what sway he'd held over Radu's body, Chaney tried to follow the treacherous ghosts in their escape. To his horror, he found he couldn't move, nor could he exert the slightest influence over Radu's movements.
He was trapped inside.
Radu gripped the sword-breaker that pinned him to the floor. With a grunt, he pulled it from his body. Chaney felt the nauseating agony of the aggravated wound. An instant later, he felt an infernal heat fill the cut, burning it away. The pain lingered, but Radu rose to his feet.
As he stepped over the body of his fallen foe, Radu sketched a quick salute with his blade. In the years Chaney had spent at Master Ferrick's academy, he'd never seen Radu make such a gesture to a fellow student. In truth, none had ever come so close to stopping him.
Radu entered the cellars. He passed through the iron racks and beyond the tasting room, then he came to a room lit by torches.
Inside, all the casks had been moved away to make room for a freshly dug hole. The excavation had revealed a stone archway inscribed with arcane symbols. It surrounded not an empty space but a great plug of blue stone with veins of many colors. Before it stood Tamlin Uskevren, and before him stood a team of six men holding picks and shovels, who stood defensively before their lord.
Chaney had known Tamlin Uskevren since he was a boy. He'd last seen Talbot's older brother almost a year before. Since then, Tamlin's handsome features had grown leaner. He had been a youth prone to slouching, and leaning on mantles and in doorways, but he stood tall as he faced the intruder. His eyes were as hard and as brilliant as emeralds.
"Please, my lord," said one of the workers. "Flee, while we hold him off."
He was a young man with a face still too smooth to want shaving. He watched Radu Malveen's slow approach, and his hands trembled upon the haft of his weapon.
Radu nodded toward the lad in acknowledgement of his brave speech. Chaney knew he would be the last to die, after he had seen the fate of his fellows.
"No," said Tamlin. He drew his sword and raised it to a steady guard position. In his left hand he fiddled with a ring of keys, rubbing one of them like a prayer bead. His gaze never left the assassin's eyes, and his expression remained assured. "Stand down. No one else will die in my place tonight."
"But my lord!" the young man protested until one of his elders drew him away by the arm.
"Run, you idiot!" Chaney screamed.
He knew perfectly well that no one but Radu could hear him, but he couldn't bear to remain both useless and silent.
"Leave us," Tamlin ordered. "I presume our visitor has no objection?"
Radu nodded. He stepped to the side, allowing the workers to pass. They filed out slowly, past the assassin, then they beat a hasty retreat.
"Well spoken, Lord Uskevren," said Radu. His voice had faded to the rustling of dry leaves. He bowed slightly and raised his blade.
"Who sent you?"
Radu cocked his head in a disapproving gesture.
"It was worth a try," said Tamlin, "but I see you're a professional. I don't suppose you're open to a counter offer?"
Radu took a step forward and raised his sword.
Tamlin stepped to the side, holding his guard high and to the center. When Radu mirrored his motion to cut him off, Chaney suspected Tamlin had been attempting to run past, toward the wall. Perhaps there was a hidden escape there.
Too bad Radu wouldn't let him try it.
Tamlin made a shallow feint toward the intruder's thigh. The trick didn't fool Radu, and his guard never wavered.
The assassin attacked. His first feint lured Tamlin's guard outside, and he thrust again. Tamlin barely recovered from the first false thrust in time to parry the second-at a cost of a searing cut on his shoulder.
Tamlin retreated a step, then two more. The man followed him, maintaining their distance with a dancer's grace.
"At least let me lead," quipped Tamlin. "It's my house, after all."
The assassin replied with another attack, this time beating Tamlin's blade before cutting under his guard and pinking his thigh.
Tamlin fell back, stumbling over the loose stones of the excavation. His opponent allowed him to recover before advancing once more.
"Don't you dare toy with me, you beggar!" Tamlin bellowed.
Briefly, Chaney thought of Talbot's mocking imitations of the boys' father. In anger, Tamlin sounded much the same.
Radu and Tamlin heard the clamor on the steps at the same time. Help was coming, and the assassin could no longer afford to taunt his prey. Tamlin knew it, and he made a hasty retreat-right into the open hole.
He fell hard on his back, the air whooshing out of his lungs. To his credit, he held his blade firmly upward, anticipating Radu's leap after him. He even kept the keys in his hand, and Chaney saw a blue gleam from the largest one.
Tamlin's defense was far too weak. Radu beat the blade aside as he landed lightly atop the unearthed archway. In the same motion, he thrust his blade neatly through Tamlin's heart.
Chaney winced as he felt the slight grating of stone as the blade passed through Tamlin's body and chipped the stone plug beneath. Blue light surged up from the buried artifact, so bright that Chaney could see Tamlin's skeleton beneath his flesh. In the next instant, it wiped away his sight, and a high keening took away his hearing. He felt a flash of agony so brief it might have been ecstasy.
Then he felt nothing at all.
CHAPTER 24
THE VANES
Sunlight gilded the crests of the clouds, yet the black belly of the storm still rumbled after each flash of lightning. Everywhere they flew, the storm rushed toward them.
"Castle Stormweather," said Cale.
He spied the titanic edifice at the very heart of the storm. Its massive cluster of gray spires pierced the clouds a few miles away. Above them wheeled griffon-riding sentries.
Shamur nodded grimly and urged their mount lower until the griffon's wings brushed the clouds. Her cheerful mood had waned during their flight from the elven armada, and neither of them had spoken since their departure. They were saving their strength for what lay ahead.
Once cloaked by the mists of the storm, Shamur gav
e Ripper his head. The griffon dived into the clouds, plummeting so quickly that Cale briefly feared the creature meant to kill itself and its riders. The wind pressed him into the high back of his saddle. He felt the flesh on his face rippling as they fell ever faster through the darkness of the storm.
Just before Cale thought he might lose consciousness, the griffon veered to the left, gradually decreasing the angle of its descent. It dived briefly once more, guided by instinct, and quickly rose up, flapping its wings to brake its speed. They emerged from the cloud cover, and Cale caught his breath as he saw how close they had come to the castle.
Ripper dropped easily onto the roof of one of the stronghold's spires. In the center of the landing stood a stable with a peaked roof. Even in the high wind, Cale could smell the musty odor of a bird coop mingling with the musk of big mammals.
A pair of attendants in heavy padded armor ran out to take Ripper's reins. When they saw who had returned the griffon, they reached for their truncheons, hesitating only when they saw Cale pointing an arrow at them.
"Tether the griffon, but don't alert the others," said Cale in the common tongue.
The men understood and obeyed.
Once Shamur had dismounted and stood behind the men with a drawn blade, Cale climbed down and removed the attendants' weapons, keeping one and throwing the other over the roof's edge.
"Who else is up here?" he asked.
"Four wounded from the harrying teams, along with two guards," reported one of the men, nodding toward a stairway adjacent to the stables.
"Anyone else?"
The man shook his head.
"Where is Thamalon Uskevren?" demanded Shamur.
The attendants looked back blankly.
"A stranger to these parts," said Cale. "We know he's here."
One of the men nodded in comprehension then grimaced. He glanced back over his shoulder, toward the highest of the castle's spires.
"The… Vanes," he said reluctantly. "You'll never make it up there. Only the Vermilion Guard is permitted-"
"That's enough," said Cale. "Can you take care of these two?"