Castle of Deception bt-1

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Castle of Deception bt-1 Page 21

by Mercedes Lackey


  Or—

  Ach, he didn’t know what to think any more! Kevin wandered blindly through the castle gardens, for the moment blessedly alone, the gravel path crunching under his shoes, sweet, spicy herbal scents filling his nose, and puzzled over the fact that the girl or woman or whatever she was hadn’t tried anything blatantly sorcerous on him.

  Or had she? Now chat he thought about it, Kevin could have sworn that from time to time during the week he’d felt the eeriest tingling, as though Naitachal’s protective armor of spells was being tested again and again. So far that armor had held up.

  Oh, nonsense! The whole thing was probably the product of his own overwrought imagination. How could Charina be anyone but Charina?

  She couldn’t.

  But then again, maybe ...

  Kevin shook his head impatiently. Enough wavering! Whatever was happening or not happening, he didn’t dare let his guard down. The week of celebration was over today, and if Charina really was Carlotta, this would be her last chance to try ensnaring him. And if she couldn’t get the manuscript from him, then she would surely try to—

  The bardling nearly jumped straight into the air when a soft hand brushed his arm. “Kevin?” Charina’s sweet voice asked. “Is anything wrong?”

  ‘‘Uh, n-no, no, of course not.” Trying to get his to shout to her that he wasn’t under her power as she believed. Thank the Powers that Naitachal’s anti-beguilement spells had worked—and that they’d been too subtle for Carlotta to detect Thank the Powers as well that Carlotta too had been constrained to subtlety; otherwise even his feigned cooperation would have been transparently false.

  I only hope Eliathanis can let the others know I might be in trouble. The bardling glanced at Carlotta and caught, just for an instant, a suspicious glint of hardness in those lovely blue eyes, a hardness all out of place for one other supposed youth and innocence. A hardness that smacked of sorcery.

  Really big trouble, Kevin amended unhappily.

  Chapter XX

  “Come on, Kevin!’’

  Carlotta batted her eyelashes at him in a way the bardling might have found adorable—if it wasn’t such an incongruous gesture on the part of a sorceress who’d kill him if he made one wrong move.

  “Why, if I didn’t know better,” she chirped, “I’d think you were trying to avoid being alone with me.” Carlotta giggled girlishly. “That’s not true, now, is it?”

  “Uh ... no—Of course not.” Yes, dear Powers, yes! How am I going to get out of this alive?

  Not by letting Carlotta think there was something wrong with her beguilement spells, that was sure! But what else could he do? There wasn’t much time to waste, yet his thoughts seemed to be racing around and around his mind like so many terrified wild things. The only thing Kevin could decide to do was play the befuddled bumpkin. Ha, that shouldn’t be so difficult! Right now it was going to be far easier to fake stupidity and bedazzlement than to say or do anything clever!

  Aren’t there any servants around? Anyone who might suggest that the niece of a count shouldn’t be alone with a young man?

  No, of course not That would be far too simple. The casde corridors were as empty as though there wasn’t anyone else alive in the whole place. Besides, Kevin thought wearily, all the servants were probably under Carlotta’s control, anyhow.

  All too soon, they reached the library.

  Kevin tried the handle. “The door seems to be locked,” he said, stalling desperately for time.

  “No, it’s not It’s never locked. Here, let me see.”

  Carlotta tried the handle, which turned with treacherous ease. She glanced sharply at Kevin, and the bardling gave her a weak smile.

  “Must have been stuck.”

  ‘‘Well, it isn’t stuck now. Come on.”

  But Kevin stopped short in the doorway, hunting frantically for some other excuse.

  “Ca-Charina.” Gods, he’d almost called her by her real name! “Charina, I... uh ... I chink I’m getting a headache. Maybe tomorrow really would be a better rime to—”

  “Don’t be silly! The sooner we take care of the manuscript—Oh, don’t look at me with such horror, Kevin! I meant to a scribe!” She smiled teasingly. “What did you think 1 meant?”

  “I...uh ...”

  “Anyhow, the sooner we get rid of the manuscript, the sooner we can do what we want. Whatever we want. Like this.”

  Without warning, Carlotta threw her arms around his neck, her lips all at once temptingly close to his.

  Temptingly? the bardling thought in panic. Her body pressed against his, the sweet scent other perfume filled his nose. At any other time he would have done almost anything to be embraced like this by a lovely young woman, but now—Powers, I'd be safer fussing a spider! But if I don’t fuss her, she'll know something’s wrong ....

  Just before he forced himself to choose the lesser peril, Charina pushed him away, giggling. “You haven’t got a headache. Or if you do, it will go away now that we’re out of the garden. It’s just the result of breathing in the smells of all those herbs.” Her smile was a marvel of fake innocence. “Some of them make me sneeze every time I go near them! If the cook didn’t need them for his recipes ... Never mind. Let’s find that silly old manuscript and get out of here.”

  Oh please, Kevin told the manuscript, hide from me the way you did before!

  He couldn’t pretend not to search, not with Carlotta watching his every move. Oh no, even chough Kevin realized she didn’t really know what the manuscript looked like, she certainly could tell what it didn’t look like; he couldn’t try to fool her with the wrong tide. And so the bardling did the only thing he could, and examined each and every item in the library as slowly and carefully as possible.

  Delaying like this was a dangerous game. Kevin was all too well aware that Carlotta’s sweet expression hid barely restrained impatience. If he pushed her too far ...

  An age passed, or so it seemed, while he searched the library, then a second age, this one surely long enough to wear away rock. But at last, to Kevin’s despair, he realized he had gone through every manuscript in the library save one.

  As though his hand had a life all its own, the bardling watched with fascinated horror as it pulled the manuscript from the shelf, feeling the strange, magical tingling that told him what he held even before he read the title:

  The Study of Ancient Magic.

  Of course. You pick a wonderful time to come out of hiding, he told the manuscript with bitter sarcasm.

  “Kevin!” Carlotta snapped, “What do you chink you’re doing? Why are you staring like that at an empty shelf?”

  “But it’s not—”

  “Oh, stop clowning!” There was very little of the innocent young girl in that sharp command. “I don’t want to spend all day here. Get on with your search!”

  Bewildered, Kevin turned to face her, the manuscript in his hands.

  Carlotta’s eyes widened in shock. “You—you have it!” she gasped. In the next moment, the sorceress had herself back under control. “Here, let me have it”

  She hadn’t been able to see the manuscript until he took it off the shelf! Stunned by this new bit of magic, the bardling couldn’t find a thing to say except an awkward, “Uh ... sorry, Charina.”

  “Kevin? I’m not in the mood for games. Give it to me.”

  “I...uh ...can’t.”

  “Kevin! Give it to me!”

  The bardling backed away towards the door, stammering the first words that came into his head. “I—I have to keep it, to—to—to take it to my room and—”

  “I don’t think so.” Suspicion flickered in her eyes. “You’ve figured out the truth, little boy, haven’t you?”

  “Id-don’t—”

  “Oh, but you do. A pity.”

  There wasn’t the slightest trace of youth or innocence in her voice now. As Kevin watched in fascinated terror, he saw Charina’s form grow and alter in a swift, dizzying blur of shape and color. The woman who sto
od before him now looked nothing like the girl she’d been a few moments before: she was tall and coldly exquisite efface and form, her long hair flaming red, her green eyes hard and chill and—

  Of course she doesn’t look anything like Charina, his mind gibbered, Charina—was Carlotta all along!

  What had Naitachal said? Aiee, yes: if she changed to her right shape it was probably the prelude to her casting some major spell, because powerful spell-casting shattered illusions—

  No time to think. But in that last midnight session, the bardling and the others had worked out every detail of what they were going to do. And oh, he was glad of that preparation now’ If he stood staring at her like a fear-paralyzed fool, she’d strike him down. If he tried to run with the manuscript, like the naive boy who’d first left Bracklin, she’d strike him down. Instead, Kevin simply tossed the manuscript out the library’s open window, praying Tich’ki had had time to get into place.

  That was obviously the last thing Carlotta had expected. She let out a shriek of disbelieving rage, her sorcerous concentration broken by shock.

  Now’s my chance!

  Kevin broke into a run, praying he could get away before she regained control and blasted him. Behind him, the bardling heard her scream again, this time in sheer frustration, and felt his skin prickle as she gathered Power to her. Before she could blast him, Kevin darted out the door, slamming it behind him, knowing that wasn’t going to stop her for more than a moment. He wasn’t a fighter, he wasn’t a magician Powers, Powers, the others had better be ready to help out!

  They were. As Carlotta tore the door open, Eliathanis appeared, seemingly from nowhere. Moving with inhuman speed, he pounced, pinning Carlotta in his arms, muffling her attempts to scream with a hand. But of course he couldn’t hope to hold her for long.

  “Get out of here, Kevin!” the White Elf shouted.

  Then he gasped in pain as the sorceress bit him. Kevin glanced back over his shoulder and saw with a chill of horror that now her mouth was free for spell-casting. A shouted Word sent Eliathanis flying. The bardling stumbled to an anguished stop, sure he was about to see Carlotta slay the White Elf. She spat out a short, twisting sentence—and a bolt of dark fire flashed from her hand.

  But before it could strike the fallen elf, Naitachal sprang forward out of the shadows, cloak swirling dramatically behind him, arms raised in denial. The sorcerous fire recoiled from a sudden, unseen wall of force, smashing instead into a wall with a roar like thunder, sending broken stone crashing down in a wild cloud of dust that forced Carlotta back into the shelter of the library. Before she could recover, Eliathanis had scrambled to his feet. The two elves slapped palms in a quick moment of triumph, then took to their heels, catching up with Kevin.

  “That noise is going to rouse the whole castle!” Naitachal cried. “Hurry to the gates! Lydia should have fast horses ready.”

  “She’d better.” Eliathanis added. “If we don’t get away now—”

  Too late. Carlotta had left her refuge—but she’d left it as Charina, dusty and disheveled, pathetically calling for help.

  “She—she’s saying we assaulted her!” Kevin gasped. “And used sorcery to boot!”

  “Wonderful,” Naitachal muttered. “Just what we need.”

  As they came out into a courtyard, beneath a dramatically overcast sky, Eliathanis stopped short “Here come the guards. No one’s going to believe us against poor, sweet little Charina. We’ve got to split up.” He gave Kevin a shove. “Up that stairway, hurry! Naitachal, you go that way, I’ll go this. See you outside!”

  We hope. Kevin scrambled up the steep stone stairway, a stone wall on his left, open space on the right, hearing a troop of guards clattering up behind him, and wound up on a narrow rampart between two towers. Which way, which way ... ?

  He turned left at random, and dove through the narrow door into the tower, staggering to a walk, half blinded by the sudden darkness. His foot found the lip of a narrow staircase spiraling down.

  But then Kevin stopped so sharply he nearly went tumbling down the stairs. Guards were climbing up this way, too! The bardling raced back out across the rampart, blinking frantically in the sudden return to daylight—and nearly ran into the arms of the guards who’d followed him up the first stairway. He kicked and squirmed and twisted, wriggling his way through so swiftly none of them had a chance to grab him, and dove into the second tower.

  Oh dawn, oh damn, they’re among up this stairway, too!

  He wasn’t going to surrender. He didn’t dare, not with Carlotta awaiting him! So Kevin took the only option open and raced up the spiraling stairway, stumbling on the narrow steps, banging knees and elbows, struggling up and up till at last, gasping, he burst out into the open on the tower’s fiat top.

  Powers, now what do I do ?

  The bardling glanced wildly this way and that, a surge of vertigo overwhelming him as he realized just how high up he was. The tower top suddenly felt impossibly narrow and insecure, while the casde was spread out in a dizzying panorama far below him, swarming with frenetic life.

  Kevin tensed as he recognized two people out of that swarm: Naitachal and Eliathanis, two doll-size figures from up here, looked like they were having a wonderful time. They moved with elven speed and grace. almost like a matched pair of dancers, one dark, one fair, far swifter than the merely human guards trying to catch them. The bardling could have sworn he saw Eliathanis grin, heard Naitachal’s laugh come trailing thinly up to him. The elves took a moment to slap palms yet again, then scurried off in opposite directions. Kevin didn’t have a moment’s doubt that they were going to escape, and enjoy doing it.

  Sure, great, now they can admit they’re friends. Fm glad they’re having fun—but meanwhile Fm trapped up here!

  Here came the guards. Kevin turned to face them, back against the low balustrade, bracing himself, sick at heart, knowing that throwing himself to his death would be a kinder fate than letting himself fall into Carlotta’s hands.

  “Jump!”

  Wonderful. Now he was hearing voices.

  “Kevin! Jump!”

  Strong little Fingers pinched his arm so hard he yelped.—Tich’ki!”

  “Come on, you idiot bardling, trust me, jump!”

  Powers, what if this was some truly sadistic form of a fairy joke—see the trusting human go splat! But the bardling knew he had to trust her. What other choice was there?

  All at once dreadfully calm, Kevin climbed up onto the tower’s narrow balustrade, the world a dizzy blur around him. As the guards cried out in sudden shock, the bardling jumped blindly into space.

  Chapter XXI

  Kevin jumped as far out and away from the casde as he could. For one wild, terrifying, thrilling moment, he was falling free, the earth surging up to meet him, and was sure he was dead.

  Then Tich’ki was beside him, shape-changed to human size, catching him in her arms, her wings backwatering frantically. Those wings didn’t have the strength to actually carry her weight and his together, but slowly, painfully slowly, the fairy began to check his fall. But it wasn’t going to work, Kevin thought in panic, they were running out of time and space!

  Tich’ki cried, “Go limp! It’s not going to be a soft landing!”

  Kevin hit, not as hard as he had feared, and started helplessly rolling down the steep hill from the castle, sky and ground whirling in a dizzy circle. The bardling frantically snatched at grass and rock. trying to slow his fall, only to end up with a jolt against a tough little patch of bushes.

  Aching, trying to remember how to breathe, deeply afraid of what he would find when he tried to move, Kevin rolled over onto his back, eyes shut, wanting nothing but to be left alone to die. But strong hands were about his shoulders, forcing him to his feet. He opened his eyes to find himself supported by Eliathanis and clutching the manuscript that had somehow wound up in his hands again during his fall.

  “Are you all right?” the White Elf asked worriedly, then added, without waiting
for his reply: “Come on. Lydia has our horses, down there where the hill levels out—We’ve got to get away before the guards have a chance to mount and come after us!”

  “Before Carlotta comes after us,” Naitachal corrected wryly—”As good a team as we make, cousin-elf—w he flashed a quick grin at Eliathanis, who grinned back “—I’d just as soon not tackle her again.”

 

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