Isabel closed her eyes in defeat when Hector started recounting their journey together, step by step, in detail. He told Phane everything from Hazel’s hidden sanctuary to the threats they faced along the way to how the fortress was laid out, where they entered and what they found within.
Phane was particularly interested in the crystal chamber, questioning Hector extensively about it. He took note of the cave-in blocking the room with the Goiri bones and the traps in the black-and-white room.
He seemed especially pleased to learn that Trajan had taken a large Goiri bone and was hiding somewhere in the jungle.
After Phane had thoroughly questioned Hector about every aspect of the journey, he sat back and took a few moments to digest what he’d learned.
“Here’s what I propose,” he said, smiling at Hector. “You will accompany an expedition force of adequate size to the fortress, where you will help them retrieve the remains of both your brother and the Goiri. When you return, I will raise your brother from the dead.”
“Bargain struck,” Hector said, standing and holding out his hand to Phane.
Isabel fought back tears as Phane escorted Hector to the door and saw him off, patting him on the back on his way out. After he’d gone, Phane released the spell holding her in the chair.
“You bastard!” she shouted, surging to her feet. “You lying bastard!”
“Really, Isabel, what do you expect? He was so ripe for the picking,” Phane said, chuckling. “People are never more susceptible to deceit than when they’re desperate. Did you see the moment? The moment when he turned? His eyes came alight and he suddenly had perfect clarity. It was … delicious. Soon, Isabel, you’ll have that kind of clarity as well.”
Isabel had never felt so powerless in her whole life. She wanted to kill Phane where he stood, strike him down without mercy, but she couldn’t and she knew it. Worse, from the look on his face, he knew it too and reveled in it.
“Sit down, Isabel, we still have things to discuss,” he said, meeting her challenging glare with the smug satisfaction of a man who knew he held the upper hand.
Isabel sat, willing her anger into the background.
“It seems you’ve been holding out on me. I guess that’s to be expected, given the circumstances, though it makes me wonder what else you know.”
Isabel glared at him.
“It pains me to see you so miserable …”
She laughed in his face. “You don’t care one bit about how anyone else feels and you probably never have. How old were you when you realized that you’re different?”
Phane’s face contorted into sudden rage but he didn’t draw on his magic, instead backhanding Isabel across the face hard enough to send her sprawling. Bright flashes of light exploded in her head when he struck her and again when she hit the floor. She lay still for a moment, her ears ringing … then the pain came, slamming into her, full force. She groaned.
“You will learn respect … one way or another. Now get up and sit with me.”
Isabel rolled to her knees and staggered to her feet, still a little unsteady, willing the pain aside. A few wobbly steps and she was sitting at the table, still slightly dazed from the blow. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she made note of his strength, strength far greater than that of any ordinary man.
“As I was saying,” he said, all vestige of anger gone, “your misery stems from your unwillingness to accept that you have already lost. And now the inevitable string of betrayals and defections has begun. I’ve seen this sad tale play out before. When high-minded principles come up against cold, hard reality; when men see the suffering they’ll bring down on their families, or worse, experience it; when they realize that they’re fighting for a lost cause … well, they lose hope. They falter.
“In that moment of weakness, there is such profound opportunity. Just the right combination of words, delivered just so, and you can shift the tide of history. I’ve done it, more than once. In fact, I may have just done it again with poor Hector.”
Isabel worked her jaw, tenderly probing her face. It was swelling and felt hot, but nothing was broken. That didn’t stop it from hurting, though.
“That’s the wonderful thing about turning someone, it’s almost like unwrapping a gift … you never know what you’re going to get. For example, I didn’t know about Trajan Karth and his Goiri bone. This entire war might hinge on that simple piece of information. I also didn’t know about the crystal chambers in the abandoned fortress. While unlikely to provide any immediate value in this war, it has effectively solved a dilemma I’ve been struggling with for some time now-namely, how to live forever.
“So you see, in addition to enlisting one of your personal bodyguards into my service in pursuit of a goal that may prove pivotal, I’ve revealed two additional opportunities. Magic is powerful, but I know of no spell that could have accomplished so much for so little-nothing more than the right promise made to the right person at just the right moment. Words.”
“So you took advantage of a man who’s already lost his brother … that’s not really much of an accomplishment, Phane.”
“I took advantage of a situation,” Phane said. “And it has paid off richly.”
“At what cost?”
“Like I said, a few words-empty promises.”
“It’s like I’m talking to a tree,” Isabel said, shaking her head sadly.
“Hmm, that reminds me, have you had contact with any dragons since you left Tyr? The truth now.” He sat forward, scrutinizing her intently.
“What? No. Where did that come from?”
“Never mind, just following up on a report,” he said, sitting back again and glancing at the door. “I expected Enu to be here by now, not to mention your little friend.” He looked at Isabel suggestively. “Your time is running out, or rather her time is. I have to warn you, it will be difficult at first, but I’m here to help. You’re not the first I’ve mentored through this process.”
“That’s comforting,” Isabel said without looking up. Slyder had delivered his message. With any luck, Wren and Lacy would be in the sewers already.
“I was speaking with Azugorath about you earlier today. It seems that she has to focus a large amount of her energy into blocking your link with the realm of light. In fact, she believes that she could control you at will if your link with the light were eliminated altogether. Perhaps an enchantment could block the link … or a potion. But I’m getting ahead of myself. If Enu’s boasting is even half accurate, his new spell may be the key to your transformation.”
Isabel was ignoring him, facing her situation with cold hard honesty. She would probably not survive Phane. The best she could hope for was to prevent the keystone from falling into his hands. Maybe, if she was lucky, she might get another shot at him, but she doubted it.
“What’s wrong, Isabel? You aren’t your usual pithy self today.”
She didn’t bother acknowledging him.
“Can you feel the anticipation building? I can.” He looked at the door again, frowning. “We’re about to take a monumental step together. I’ve been working toward this since your beloved pretender murdered Kludge.” Phane stopped talking, crossing his arms over his chest and sulking while she continued to ignore him as best she could.
He huffed. “They really should be here by now.”
Isabel didn’t look up.
“Enu had better have a good explanation. And your little scullion, too.”
Isabel couldn’t help but laugh softly to herself.
“What’s so funny?”
“You wouldn’t understand,” she muttered. She could feel him glaring at her.
“My patience is at an end,” Phane said, opening his Wizard’s Den and going to his mirror. Isabel quietly followed him in.
“This was a gift from my father,” Phane said, caressing the edge of the mirror. “It took three arch mage enchanters over a month to create it.”
As he focused, the mirror rippled, then became clear, re
vealing a bedroom. Lacy and Wren stood at the foot of the bed, facing Wizard Enu.
“Where’s the box? Hand it over and I won’t hurt you,” Enu said.
Phane leaned forward. “Well, isn’t this interesting.”
“Does Phane know you’re here?” Wren asked.
“The whelp asks a good question,” Phane muttered, engrossed in the scene unfolding within his mirror.
“Does he know you’re here? With the princess?” Enu shot back.
“Get out or I’ll call for my guards,” Lacy said.
“Go ahead,” Enu said. “Do you think I’d be foolish enough to come for you without first incapacitating your house guard? I assure you, Princess, we’re all alone.”
Lacy looked about quickly, fear dancing in her eyes.
“Give me the box,” Enu said, stepping forward and raising his staff.
“No!”
As he pointed the tip of his staff at Lacy, the stone embedded in it began to glow, red and menacing. He pronounced a word, and she collapsed on the floor, gasping in pain, writhing around in a desperate attempt to escape the agony of Enu’s torture spell.
Wren darted in and tried to stab Enu but his shield turned her blade aside.
“I’m beginning to see why you like her,” Phane said, chuckling, thoroughly enjoying the events playing out before them, even as horror gripped Isabel.
Enu released his spell, leaving Lacy trembling and sobbing on the floor and raising his staff toward Wren, madness and murder in his eyes. A sudden gust of wind from the balcony distracted him. A moment later, a man strode into the room, unleashing a jet of fire from his outstretched hands at Wizard Enu.
At first Enu’s shield held, but the fire continued, second after second, pouring heat into the wizard’s magical barrier, driving him back until the shield failed and he was blasted against the wall, burnt into an unnaturally contorted, charred husk of a corpse.
Rankosi casually stepped over Lacy as she recovered from Enu’s spell. He snatched the bag from under the bed, dumping the contents out on top of her.
“Pick it up.”
“No.”
“Pick it up and open it.”
“No.”
“I’ll kill your friend,” Rankosi said, pointing at Wren, who backed away, holding her knife up like a ward.
Lacy picked up the little box and staggered to her feet, then sat heavily on the edge of the bed.
“If I open this, you’ll kill everyone.”
“Yes, but I’ll save you for last.”
Lacy shook her head, helplessly looking up at Wren. “I’m sorry.”
Wren’s eyes widened when Rankosi slowly raised his hand toward her.
“This is quickly getting out of control,” Phane said, stepping inside a magic circle carved into the floor of his Wizard’s Den.
He spoke a word and erected a shield around the circle. Another few words and he was standing stone-still within the circle, while a perfect likeness of him appeared in the room with Lacy, Wren, and Rankosi.
Isabel looked around at the contents of his Wizard’s Den, calculating how she could hurt him the most.
“Hello, Rankosi,” Phane’s projection said.
“Don’t have the spine to come in person, I see,” Rankosi said.
“I have a proposal for you,” Phane replied, ignoring the jibe.
Rankosi lowered his hands. “I’m listening.”
“I want you to shapeshift into Wizard Enu and take the box to the Sin’Rath witch in the sewers.”
“Why would I do that?” Rankosi asked.
“Because her sister has Torin Fellenden under her control. He’ll open the box for the Sin’Rath and then we can all fight over the keystone. At least that way, we can actually lay our hands on it, since it’s pretty clear that our dear princess here isn’t going to open the blasted thing for us.”
“You’d let me leave with the keystone?”
“Don’t sound so surprised,” Phane said with a boyish smile. “Once it’s out of the box, I’ll come to collect it.”
“You’ll try,” Rankosi said. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Phane held up his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “Only that the princess and her friend are not to be harmed.”
Rankosi glared at Phane as if he knew he was walking into a trap, yet he couldn’t resist.
“Give me the box,” he said to Lacy, holding out his hand. She shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks as she clenched it to her chest.
Rankosi put one hand on her face, pushing her back on the bed while pulling the box free of her grasp with the other hand.
“No!” Lacy shouted, bouncing back off the bed and charging him. He backhanded her, sending her sprawling on the floor, then left without a word.
“Well now, that worked out well,” Phane said. “You ladies wait right here while I send someone to fetch you.”
Isabel watched the entire encounter. The moment Phane’s image began to waver, she picked up the magic mirror and raised it over her head, then smashed it to the floor with all her strength, sending glass shattering in every direction, leaving only a mangled frame as evidence that it had once been a mirror. Faint light flickered from the edges of the shards of glass a moment after they settled to the floor … and then they went dark and transformed into fine sand.
When Phane returned to his body, his eyes went wide in disbelief, his mouth working to create a sound. He locked eyes with Isabel. She thought she might have actually pushed him too far this time.
“You wretched harlot! That was irreplaceable!”
Isabel just held his glare. He reached out with his magic and lifted her off her feet, propelling her backward, out of his Wizard’s Den and toward the wall with crushing acceleration. She expected to die-any moment now. She expected to smash into the wall with such force that it would crush the life out of her in an instant, but then she slowed so quickly that she nearly lost consciousness and reversed direction until she came to a jarring stop floating in front of him. He held her there, her toes six inches off the ground, her arms bound to her sides, her chest constricted so tightly that she could barely breathe.
“I have tried to be patient. I have tried to tolerate your constant insolence. I have been a gracious host, but this … this goes too far.”
He slapped her across the face. White light exploded in her head as it snapped to one side. He hit her again, open-handed but hard, much harder than a man should be able to hit. Blood sprayed across the floor. He hit her again. Another flash of light, another concussive detonation in her head. Again. Blackness started to envelop her. She welcomed it. One last flash of light … and then nothing.
Chapter 21
“We have to run … now,” Wren said, when the door closed behind Rankosi.
All trace of hesitation evaporated. Lacy started stuffing things into her pack.
“I can see soldiers coming,” Wren said from the window. “Hurry.”
“I’m ready,” Lacy said.
They left the room quietly, slipping into the corridor and racing to the nearest corner on tiptoes. Wren peered around cautiously before she started to move.
“Wait, the way out is this way,” Lacy said.
“No. We’ll go through the kitchen and out the back.”
Lacy frowned, falling in behind Wren. They’d spent the afternoon talking, Wren answering every question Lacy posed as best she could. Her head was swimming in new information, most of which she had no way of confirming. What she did know for sure was that Wren had risked her life to save her and that Phane was working against her. His appearance and bargain with Rankosi had confirmed it.
Things were happening quickly. She’d lost the box. The Sin’Rath had Torin, a fact made all the more horrible by Wren’s limited description of the true nature of the demon-spawn witches.
Following Wren into the service corridors of the house, Lacy came back to her chosen purpose and made up her mind to go after the box. Escape wasn’t enough. I
f the Nether Gate was opened, there’d be nowhere to hide.
That left the how. She was no match for either the witch or the shade. She needed help, and the more the better.
They reached the kitchen and slipped through it mostly unnoticed. Some of the staff looked up long enough to recognize Lacy, but they looked down just as quickly. Wren led her out into the grounds where they climbed a small tree to get over the low wall. Once on the street, Wren led her by way of alleys rather than streets to avoid scrutiny as much as possible.
Lacy wished she’d listened when Wren had first taken the note from the hawk’s leg. It all seemed so surreal, the idea that this waif of a girl, her wispy hair floating around her head like a halo, was receiving directions from Lady Reishi. The note said they should run. Wren wanted to leave right away, but Lacy had resisted, still clinging to the hope that Phane might be a powerful ally. Now she knew better, now that she’d lost the box, now that she’d failed her father’s trust.
With an effort, she pushed that out of her mind and tried to stay alert. Wren seemed to know where she was going, but Phane would send people to look for them the moment he realized they were missing. They had to get outside the fortress walls as quickly as possible.
Lacy struggled to come to terms with her radical new understanding of the conflict she was reluctantly at the center of. She had believed so many things that weren’t true. She’d been duped by Phane so thoroughly that he might have succeeded, if he’d just had the patience to wear her down.
Wren stopped at the corner of a building and peeked around it, pulling back quickly and motioning for silence, then retracing her steps back into the alley.
“What is it?” Lacy asked.
“Wraithkin,” Wren whispered, ducking into a doorway and pulling Lacy along with her. “We’ll wait for him to go away.”
“What’s a wraithkin?”
“Dangerous.” Wren put a finger to her lips, her eyes going wide when she heard footsteps entering the alley. The sound stopped briefly, then resumed, coming closer. Again, the sound of footsteps stopped, and a man appeared not ten feet from where they were hiding. Lacy started trembling when she saw him appear out of nothing, but she didn’t make a sound. The wraithkin took a few steps and vanished. Wren motioned for silence. Lacy nodded tightly, her eyes still wide and filled with new fear.
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