“Oh, no, dear child. I am so much more. As are you, wilder.” He stood from the crystal chair with a terrifying aspect.
Kate pulled her eyes off him, surprised by how hard it was. A part of her wanted to watch him, mesmerized by his presence, as if he were a flame and she the moth. She got to her feet, gaze fixed on Signe unconscious on the chair with her chin resting on her chest. “Why do this to her?”
Rendborne walked over to Signe. “Are you familiar with the Eshian notion of Seerah?”
“The holy silence,” Kate said on an exhale.
Smiling, Rendborne motioned to Signe. “This one holds fast to that vow. She is a credit to her people.” Cupping Signe’s chin with one hand, he raised her head off her chest and turned her face toward Kate, revealing the thick gash from her brow line to her chin. Blood still oozed out from it, running down her neck like a red river.
Kate choked on a gasp.
“It’s a difficult thing, breaking a person,” Rendborne said in a detached, clinical tone. “You have to find out what matters most to them, where their heart lies. This one I thought might’ve been vanity, but I was wrong. She didn’t fear the scar this will leave behind at all. Impressive.”
Vomit climbed Kate’s throat, and she sucked in a breath. She needed to stay calm, keep her wits about her. “Why are you doing this? She’s done nothing to you.”
Rendborne continued on as if she hadn’t spoken. “Then I thought perhaps the threat of crippling her would work. She’s so fierce and independent. Surely the idea of never walking again would have broken her. But you know what happened?” Rendborne dropped Signe’s face and turned to Kate. “She still refused to divulge her secrets. Isn’t that fascinating?”
Kate shook her head. It wasn’t if you knew Signe.
“Yes, fascinating.” Rendborne raised his hand to touch the necklace of talons strung around his neck. “But frustrating. I need to know how to make the black powder. Since she refuses to tell me, you are going to fetch it for me instead.”
Several seconds passed before Kate fully understood what he was saying. Her stomach recoiled at the idea. “You want me to steal the secret out of her mind?”
“We both know you have the ability.” Rendborne motioned to the glass jars on the workbench. “These are the elements she uses. I recognize them all, save this one.” He picked up a jar. “It seems to be a substance found only in the islands. But the proportions elude me, and the trial and error it would require to work out the recipe would take an age. Time I don’t have. I need you to use that gift of yours and find out from this one.”
“I won’t do it.”
Rendborne smirked. “Believe me, child, you are not my first choice. But I’ve only two wilders left with your ability, after you killed poor William in Thornewall, and neither is available at the moment. I need it done now and quickly. You will do it for me, Kate Brighton, willingly or not.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but then an idea occurred to her. For her to use her sway, he would have to remove the collar.
Worried he would suspect something if she agreed too quickly, Kate said, “What happens if I refuse?”
“Suffering and death, of course.” Rendborne rolled his eyes as if the subject bored him. “I’m afraid I know your character too well to bother trying to bribe you instead. Proud and honorable like your father. Now, before I remove your collar, you should know that any attempt to use your gift on me will fail.” He touched his chest, where a crystal full of a dark-red liquid lay beneath the necklace of talons. “This magestone shields me. The magic was woven from your father’s blood.”
Kate inhaled sharply. “You’re lying.”
“It’s gruesome, I know, but of all the gifts I possess—control over fire, water, earth, air, and even most of spirit—the gift of sway still alludes me.” Envy rang clear in his voice, his eyes a golden smolder as he stared at her.
“No one man has that much magic,” Kate said, her gaze fixed on the crystal, still disbelieving his claim that it was her father’s.
“I told you. He is no man, but a god.” Vikas spoke from behind Kate. She’d almost forgotten the maestra was there. Vikas stared at Rendborne with raw desire on her face.
Rendborne beckoned Vikas forward, and when she reached him, he bent his head toward her and kissed her full on the mouth. Breaking the kiss, he stared down at her with genuine affection. “And you will soon be the goddess who rules Rime next to me.” He turned his gaze to Kate. “I have Isla here to thank for discovering the spell to create this.” He picked up the crystal and shook it, stirring the tenebrous contents.
Beside him, Vikas reached into her robe to reveal an identical crystal. She held it up, examining it with a fond gaze. “Magic resides in the blood. Even after death, the power remains—that is, if the blood is extracted from a still living host. In the end, your father gave me every last drop before the executioner took his head.”
Kate gritted her teeth so hard, pain shot through her jaw as she fought to hold in a scream. She remembered the way he’d looked that day, when they led him to the executioner’s block. Pale and emaciated, a man drained of all the life and hope left in him.
“He never spoke a word,” Vikas said, “not even to cry out.”
Kate closed her eyes, hatred expanding inside her like air drawn into a bellows. She understood at last why it was her father had refused to see her. Why he’d left his message in code. The meaning had been double—find Kiran and leave Rime, get away from this evil.
“Let’s begin then,” Rendborne said. “Once I remove the collar, you will enter your friend’s mind to find out how she mixes the black powder. If you do it successfully, she will live and not suffer any more abuse. If you refuse or attempt to escape in any way, there will be death to pay.”
Kate stared at the man, trying to know his thoughts without her sway. The death he spoke of wouldn’t be Signe’s, she decided. The secret she possessed was worth too much for him to kill her outright. But I’m expendable. That was all right. Kate would rather die than let this man control her. If she failed, her death would buy Signe time. But first Signe needed to be freed.
“I understand,” Kate said at last.
Satisfied, Rendborne waved his hand, and she felt the collar loosen around her neck. It fell to the ground, and when she glanced at it, she saw the lock on it was still intact but the metal to either side had been pulled apart. With magic. It seemed Rendborne had been telling the truth about his powers; he had the magic of both air and earth, that she’d seen so far.
Kate breathed in, stretching out with her sway. Gently, she probed both Vikas and Rendborne. As they claimed, she couldn’t reach either of them. But behind her, just through the door, she sensed the two golds, neither of them protected from her magic.
Kate made a show of turning toward Signe. Her friend was awake now, her eyes squeezed shut against the pain. I’m sorry, Signe, Kate thought as she approached the chair.
“Hurry,” Rendborne said. “If you’re successful, I will heal her pain myself.”
Kate placed her palm against Signe’s forehead. Physical touch made connecting with another mind easier, but this was all for show while she reached out with her magic to the two golds. The moment she sensed them, she grasped hold and forced them to her will.
Their minds folded to her power at once, bending like stalks in the wind. Kill the Lord Ascender! she commanded, and both men obeyed, bursting through the door with maces raised. Their spells soared toward Rendborne, and he raised his hand like a shield before him. The magic fizzled and died as it reached him, and in the next moment he summoned lightning in the palm of the same hand and cast it at both the golds. Still attached to their minds, Kate felt the pain tear through them. She shrieked and let go.
Turning toward her, Rendborne cast another spell. The magic hit Kate like a strong wind, and she fell to the ground, paralyzed.
“You really should not have done that.” Rendborne retrieved the collar. He placed it ar
ound Kate’s neck, melding the broken pieces together with his magic.
“Kill me now,” Kate said. “I won’t do what you want. Not ever.”
He smiled coldly. “I wasn’t ever threatening to kill you, Kate. Your death has no value. Only your abilities do.” Rendborne turned to the golds, who were just now recovering from the attack. “Go and fetch Bonner . . . and his father.”
Chills erupted down Kate’s skin, and she struggled in vain to break free of the spell. Why is his father here?
The golds returned all too quickly, dragging in the Bonners, both of them in chains. Thomas visibly trembled with fear.
The moment Bonner spotted Kate and Signe, he began to struggle. “What are you doing? Let them go!”
For a second it was all the golds could do to keep control of him, but then Rendborne froze him in place with his magic—a vortex of air surrounding him.
“Don’t struggle, son,” Thomas said, his voice kind and gentle as ever. “It won’t change anything.” Although his words were strong, Thomas seemed to sag beneath the weight of them.
Rendborne drew a knife from his belt and approached father and son standing side by side. “I warned you, Kate, there would be a death to pay if you disobeyed me.” Rendborne raised the knife to Bonner’s throat.
“NO!” Kate screamed, terror robbing her of reason. “Don’t hurt him! Please, I’ll do whatever you want.” Rendborne was right; everyone had a breaking point, and he had found hers.
“Yes, I know you will do what I want now,” Rendborne said. “But still, the consequences of your disobedience must be paid.” He pressed the knife to Bonner’s throat, a sliver of blood appearing beneath the blade.
“Don’t hurt my boy,” Thomas sobbed. “Take me instead.”
Rendborne glanced at the old man. “Very well,” he said, and before anyone could react, he pivoted toward Thomas and sliced his throat. The man let out a single, liquid gasp, then crumpled to the floor.
Bonner’s scream was loud enough to shake the walls. The agony in the sound ripped through Kate. She could see him struggling against the magic that held him, mad with the need to kill the man before him, to do anything to save his father.
“Settle him down,” Rendborne said, releasing the vortex of air around Bonner. At once, the golds turned their maces on him. Bonner fell to the ground as they beat him over the head, neck, back, legs, arms, everywhere. Kate cried for them to stop, but it made no difference. She was still paralyzed by Rendborne’s magic, helpless to act. They continued on until all the fight went out of Bonner, and he slumped against the floor, his face pressed into the ever-expanding pool of his father’s blood.
Rendborne turned back to Kate. “This was the punishment for the first disobedience, Kate. I recommend you do not try a second one.” He pointed his hand at her and released her from the paralysis.
“Why are you doing this?” Kate said, tears making her voice thick. “Who are you?” She couldn’t pull her eyes off Bonner. He was still conscious, but only just. Thomas, she couldn’t bear to look at, heartsick with memories of laughter shared over meals, his gentle teasing that his son should find a wife like her.
Rendborne bent toward Kate, removing the magestone on his right hand. The skin on his palm blurred for a moment, then cleared, revealing the raised, branded flesh there, a faded eight-spoked wheel set inside the holy triangle. An uror mark? Seeing it only added to her confusion. He cupped her chin, raising her face to his.
“Who are you?” she said again. She peered into his golden eyes, feeling the weight of age in them. He seemed both old and young at the same time. A god, Vikas called him. A god in human form.
“You will know me in time. But for now, do as I command, Kate, and the suffering will end.” Rendborne released her.
She felt the fight ebbing away from her. She could not defeat this man. But Bonner and Signe still lived. She needed to do whatever it took to keep them from further harm.
“Don’t do it, Kate.” Bonner raised his bruised and blood-smeared face toward her. “I’d rather die.”
“I can’t let you.” Kate climbed to her feet, then turned and walked over to Signe, defeat bowing her spine until she felt she might break in two. I am Traitor Kate, she thought. Betrayer of her prince, her kingdom, and her friends.
35
Corwin
THE HELLGATE WAS BOTH LESS frightening than Corwin had imagined it would be and yet far more impressive. Or maybe the reality of finding it, of learning that the mythical place existed, just hadn’t yet sunk in. They’d found it so easily this time. With Raith’s magestones he and Dal had spotted a well-worn path shortly after entering. They followed it as it snaked between the skeletal white trees until they reached the crumbling battlements of an ancient fortress.
At first they thought the fortress was abandoned, but after tethering the horses a safe distance away, they approached one of the gaping holes in the wall and spotted movement beyond, the distinctive flash of a gold robe in the fading sun. Kate must be here, Corwin thought, watching the activity near the keep. For a moment the urge to rush in headlong nearly overwhelmed him, but he pushed it back down again. Deciding to remain outside had nothing to do with Raith’s warning and everything to do with instinct. He’d spent too long studying military strategy, both with his tutors at Norgard and with the Shieldhawks, to do something so reckless as to charge a fortress like this, one with a single door and no windows. He and Dal had made certain of it, doing a sweep of the perimeter to make sure.
Now, with night fast approaching, they’d returned to the spot nearest the path that had brought them here, taking cover close to the wall to observe the comings and goings. They watched as golds came in and out of the fortress, often carrying crates, of the sort they used to transport their magestones from city to city, which they loaded onto wagons. When a group of them later carried out a cage, Corwin’s chest gave a lurch at the sight of the daydrake inside it. It seemed his hunch was true—the golds were behind the vile creatures.
“How many golds do you think are in there?” Dal said.
“I’ve counted thirty, maybe more,” Corwin replied, keeping his voice at a whisper. “But we can’t be certain.”
“They don’t seem concerned with intruders.”
Corwin nodded. They hadn’t spotted a single sentry. He supposed these magists didn’t fear discovery, not with the magical shield hiding them.
A rustling noise drew Corwin’s attention, and he peered behind him to see Raith approaching on foot with his mace drawn. Corwin waved to him, a finger pressed against his lips.
“What have you found?” Raith whispered, reaching them. He peered through the gap where two golds loitered in the bailey out front of the opened door into the fortress. Corwin quickly told him everything they’d seen so far, and Raith listened without comment, nodding at turns.
“What do we do now?” Dal said, addressing the question to Raith.
The magist traced a finger over the birthmark on his face. “We need to capture one of the golds for questioning.”
“Yes, but how, without alerting the others?”
Raith thought for a moment. Then he motioned to the wardstone embrasure just visible from where they crouched in the underbrush. “In a few minutes they will need to set the shield. The embrasures toward the back might allow us to capture one out of sight of the others.”
Dal frowned. “What about the barrier? If it doesn’t go up . . .”
“I’ll complete the spell,” Raith said. “They’ll never know. But we should get into place now. We’ll need to get behind our own wardstone barrier soon after. My people are waiting not far from here.”
“How many did you bring?” Corwin asked as they slowly retreated from the wall, moving toward the rear.
“Twenty-six,” Raith answered.
“So few?” Corwin glanced at the man.
Raith’s expression was impassive. “There would’ve been more, if not for the raid. But they’re all wilder or magist,
and they are all willing to fight, which will have to be enough.”
Yes, it would. Corwin’s mind whirled with plans and possibilities, working out scenarios of how they could get inside, get to Kate and the others, and get back out again. It wasn’t going to be easy. First make sure she is indeed inside, he told himself.
Reaching an isolated wardstone, they had to take up position well away from the wall, the only place with enough cover to shield them.
“I will take the gold down the moment he reaches the embrasures,” Raith said. “But be ready to move him as soon as I finish the spell.”
Dal raised his hand. “One problem. Won’t they notice when one of them doesn’t come back?”
Raith shook his head. “Not at first. By the time they do notice, it’ll be too dark to venture out.”
With that settled, they hunched down to wait. It didn’t take long before a gold appeared, carrying a glowing wardstone between his palms. Corwin sank down even lower, breathing shallowly. The sweet smell of the everweeps covering the ground filled his nose, a strange, pleasant comfort in this tense moment. He needn’t have worried; the gold was oblivious to his surroundings. Clearly he’d performed this task so often, he’d become indifferent to danger.
Just before the gold reached the embrasure, Raith rose from his hiding place, uttered a spell, then raced forward as the gold collapsed. Picking up the stone, he whispered a few words, invoking the warding once more, and slid the wardstone into its place. Corwin and Dal rushed toward the gold and picked him up by the arms, dragging him away as quickly and quietly as they could manage.
In moments, they were well away from the Hellgate. They stopped to get the horses, all three of them. When Corwin and Dal left Norgard, Corwin had brought Firedancer with them, saddled and ready for Kate. Dal had brought Lir as well. The falcon remained perched on the front of his saddle, a hood over her head. They tossed the unconscious gold over Nightbringer’s back, then headed for the encampment.
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