“Sorry, Gratch. I almost lost my grip on the magic. I almost got us both hurt.”
Gratch absently grunted acknowledgment. His glowing green eyes were searching the darkness. There were walls going everywhere up here, and a hundred places to hide. Gratch seemed to be searching them all.
A low growl rumbled in the gar’s throat. The green glow intensified. Zedd searched the dark recesses, but saw nothing. Gratch did.
Zedd flinched when, with a sudden roar, the gar bounded into the darkness.
Massive claws ripped at the night air. Fangs tore at nothing.
Zedd began to see shapes seeming to come out of the air. Capes billowed open, and knives flashed as the things danced and spun around the gar.
Mriswith.
The creatures let out clicking hisses as they lunged at the great fur beast. Gratch caught them on claws, ripping their scaled hides open, spilling their blood and insides. Their howls as they died drew a shiver up Zedd’s spine.
Zedd felt the air move as one swept past, intent on the gar. The wizard threw his hand out, casting a ball of liquid fire that caught the mriswith, igniting its cape, and then spilled flame over the rest of it.
The rampart was suddenly alive with the creatures. Zedd, digging deep to bring up the power, snapped back a line of dense air, throwing several over the edge. Gratch threw one at the wall with such violence that it burst open when it hit.
Zedd wasn’t prepared for the pitched battle that was suddenly all round him. Through his numb exhaustion, Zedd’s frenetic quest for ideas couldn’t engender anything more ingenious than simple magic of fire and air.
A mriswith turned suddenly, bringing around its bladed claw. Zedd threw a line of air as sharp as an axe. It cleaved the mriswith’s head. He used a web to snare several away from Gratch and cast them over the side of the wall. At this outer rampart, it was a drop of several thousand feet—straight down.
The mriswith, for the most part, ignored Zedd, so resolute were they with taking down the gar. Why did they want so badly to kill the gar? By the way Gratch was dispatching them, it seemed they held a primal hatred for the winged beast.
A wedge of light suddenly stabbed through the predawn darkness as a door opened. A small figure stood silhouetted in the light. In the illumination, Zedd could see the mriswith all lunging for the gar. He rushed forward, throwing a fist of fire that engulfed three of the scaled creatures spinning forward with their knives flashing.
A mriswith hurtled past, slamming Zedd’s shoulder, knocking him from his feet. He saw the mriswith pile into the gar, knocking him back against the crenellated wall.
Zedd saw them all, in one seething mass, tumble over the edge, and fall into the night, just as his head hit the stone.
The door squeaked open. As Valdora rose from her work, Ann gasped to catch her breath, and at the same time fought the darkness trying to shroud her mind. She couldn’t do it any longer. She was at the end. She had no more screams left. Dear Creator, she could not hold out any longer. Why hadn’t he come to rescue her?
“Grandmamma.” Holly grunted with effort as she labored to drag something, inch by inch, into the room. “Grandmamma. Something has happened.”
Valdora turned to the girl. “Where did you find him?”
Ann struggled to lift her head. Holly huffed and strained to lift a skinny old man up by his maroon robes and lean him against the wall. Blood trickled down the side of his head and matted his wavy white hair sticking out in disarray.
“He’s a wizard, Grandmamma. He’s near to dead. I saw him having a fight with a gar, and some other creatures all covered with scales.”
“What makes you think he’s a wizard?”
Holly straightened, panting as she stood over the old man on the floor. “He was using his gift. He was casting balls of fire.”
Valdora frowned. “Reeeally. A wizard. How interesting.” She scratched her nose. “What happened to the creatures, and the gar?”
Holly wheeled her arms about as she described the battle. “And then they all jumped on the gar, and all of them fell over the side. I went to the edge and looked, but I couldn’t see them anymore. They all fell down the mountain.”
Ann’s head thumped back to the table. Dear Creator, it was a wizard who supposed to rescue her.
It was all for naught. She was going to die. How could she have been so vain as to believe she could do something this risky and get away with it. Nathan was right.
Nathan. She wondered if he would ever find her body to know what had happened, or would even care if his warden was dead. She was a foolish, foolish, old woman, who thought herself more clever than she was. She had tampered with prophecy one time too many, and it had bitten her. Nathan was right. She should have listened.
Ann flinched when she saw Valdora leaning over her with a wicked grin. She pushed the knifepoint up under Ann’s chin.
“Well, dear Prelate, it seems I have a wizard to dispatch.” She drew the knifepoint across Ann’s throat. She could feel it tugging at the skin, cutting and scratching as it dragged along.
“Please, Valdora, ask Holly to leave the room. You shouldn’t let your granddaughter see you kill someone.”
Valdora turned. “You’d like to watch, wouldn’t you, dear?”
Holly swallowed. “No, Grandmamma. She never tried to hurt us.”
“I’ve told you, she hurt me.”
Holly pointed. “I brought him in here so you could help him.”
“Oh, no. Can’t have that. He must die, too.”
“And what did he do to hurt you?”
Valdora shrugged. “If you don’t want to watch, then go. It won’t hurt my feelings.”
Holly turned, pausing a moment to glance down at the old man. She reached out and touched his shoulder in a comforting way, and then hurried away.
Vafdora turned back. She laid the knife against Ann’s cheek, under her eye, “Should I gouge out your eyes, first?”
Ann closed her eyes, unable to witness the terror any longer.
“No!” Valdora jabbed the point under her chin. “Don’t close your eyes! You will watch! If you don’t open them, I will gouge them out then.”
Ann opened her eyes. She held her lower lip between her teeth as she watched Valdora put the point to her chest and lift the handle straight up.
“At last,” Valdora whispered. “Vengeance.”
She lifted the knife. It paused in midair as she pulled a deep breath.
Valdora’s body twitched as a sword blade erupted from the center of her chest.
Her eyes widened, and she let out a gurgling squeal as the knife dropped to the floor.
Nathan put a foot to Valdora’s back and drew the sword out of the woman. She went down hard to the stone floor.
Ann let out a wail of relief. Tears streamed from her eyes as the bonds holding her wrists and ankles broke.
Nathan, tall and grim, gazed down at her lying on the table. “You foolish woman,” he whispered, “what have you let be done to you?”
He bent and took her up in his arms as she wept like a child. His arms felt as sweet as the Creator’s as he held her to his breast.
As her crying slowed, he parted from her, and she saw that the front of him was soaked with blood. Her blood.
“Remove the block, and then lie back and let me see if I can possibly heal this mess.”
Ann pushed his hand away. “No. First I must do what I came to do.” She pointed. “It is he. The wizard we’ve come for.”
“Can’t it wait?”
She wiped blood and tears from her eyes. “Nathan, I have gone through this dreadful prophecy this far. Let me finish. Please?”
With a disgusted sigh, he reached in a pouch beside his scabbard at his belt and pulled out a Rada’Han. He handed it over as she slid off the table. When her feet touched the floor, the pain crumpled her. Nathan caught her with a big arm and helped her to kneel before the unconscious wizard.
“Help me, Nathan. Open it for me. Sh
e broke most of my fingers.”
With trembling hands, she placed the collar around the wizard’s neck. Pushing with her palms, she at last managed to snap it shut, locking on not only the collar, but its magic. The prophecy was fulfilled.
Holly stood in the doorway. “Is Grandmamma dead?”
Ann sagged back on her heels. “Yes, my dear child. I’m sorry.” She held out a hand. “How would you like to watch a healing, instead of a hurting?”
Holly gently took the hand. She glanced to the wizard on the floor. “And him? Will you heal him, too?”
“Yes, Holly, him too.”
“That was why I brought him in: to be helped. Not to be killed. Grandmamma helped people sometimes. She wasn’t always mean.”
“I know,” Ann said.
A tear rolled down the girl’s cheek. “What is to become of me, now?” she whispered.
Ann smiled through the tears. “I am Annalina Aldurren, Prelate of the Sisters of the Light, and have been for a good long time. I’ve taken in many young women with the gift, like you, and have taught them to be wonderful women who heal and help people. I would be most happy if you would come with us.”
Holly nodded, a smile coming to her tearstained face. “Grandmamma took care of me, but she was mean to other people, sometimes. Mostly those who would try to hurt us, or cheat us, but you never did. It was wrong for her to hurt you. I’m sorry she wasn’t nicer. I’m sorry she had to be mean, and die.”
Ann kissed the girl’s hand. “Me, too. Me, too.”
“I have the gift.” She looked up with big, doleful eyes. “Can you teach me to heal with it?”
“It would be my honor.”
Nathan picked up his sword and, with a dramatic flourish, slid it back into its scabbard. “You want to be healed, now? Or would you prefer to bleed to death so I can try my hand at resurrection?”
Ann winced as she came to her feet. “Heal me, my savior.”
He squinted. “Then allow me access to my power, woman. I can’t heal with my sword.”
Ann closed her eyes as she lifted a hand, focusing her inner sense on his Rada’Han removing the block in the flow of his Han. “It is done.”
Nathan grunted. “I know it’s done; I can feel it back, you know.”
“Help me onto the table, Nathan.” Holly held her hand as she was lifted up.
Nathan peered down at the wizard on the floor. “Well, you’ve finally got him. Far as I know, one such as he has never been collared before.” His penetrating blue eyes turned to her. “Now that you’ve got a wizard of the First Order, the true madness of this whole plan of yours begins.”
Ann sighed as his healing hands at last caressed her. “I know. Hopefully, Verna has her end of matters well in hand by now.”
Chapter 41
Zedd gasped as his eyes popped opened. He sat bolt upright. A big hand on his chest pushed him back down.
“Take it easy, old man,” a deep voice said.
Zedd goggled up at the square-jawed face. His shoulder-length white hair fell forward as he leaned over, putting both hands to the sides of Zedd’s head.
“Who are you calling ‘old,’ old man?”
The penetrating blue eyes, beneath an intimidating raptor’s brow, smiled along with the rest of his face. It was a mixed visage Zedd found unsettling. “Now that you mention it, I guess I am a bit older than you.”
There was something familiar about that face. It came to him in a rush. Zedd shoved the hands away and sat up, pointing a bony finger at the tall man beside the table “You look like Richard. Why do you look like Richard?”
His cheeks drew back with a wide smile. The brow was still looking very hawklike. “He’s a relative of mine.”
“Relative! Bags!” Zedd peered closer. “Tall. Muscular. Blue eyes. Hair looks of similar texture. That jaw. Worse, the eyes.” Zedd folded his arms. “You’re a Rahl,” he pronounced.
“Very good. You know Richard, then.”
“Know him! I’m his grandfather.”
His brow elevated. “Grandfather . . .” He wiped his face with one of his big hands, “Dear Creator,” he muttered, “what has that woman gotten us into.”
“Woman? What woman?”
With a sigh, he took the hand away from his face. The smile returned and he bowed. A rather good bow, Zedd thought. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Nathan Rahl.” He straightened. “And may I have your name, friend?”
“Friend!”
Nathan rapped his knuckles on Zedd’s forehead. “I just healed your cracked skull. That should count for something.”
“Well,” Zedd grumbled, “perhaps you’re right. Thank you, Nathan. I’m Zedd. A talented bit of healing, if my skull really was cracked.”
“Oh, it was. I seem to get quite a bit of practice. How do you feel?”
Zedd took stock of himself. “Well, fine. I feel fine. My strength is back . . .” He groaned, remembering what had happened. “Gratch. Dear spirits, I have to get out of here.”
Nathan planted a restraining hand on Zedd’s chest. “We have to have a little talk, friend. At least I hope we can become friends. We unfortunately have a lot in common, besides being related to Richard.”
Zedd blinked up at the tall man. “Like what?”
Nathan unbuttoned his ruffled shirt at the top. The whole front of him was covered with dried blood. Nathan hooked a finger through a dull silver collar around his neck and lifted it a bit.
Zedd’s voice lowered to a somber timber. “Is that what I think it is?”
“You’re a pretty smart fellow, I’ve no doubt, or you wouldn’t be of such value.”
Zedd returned his gaze to the blue eyes. “And what unfortunate thing do we have in common?”
Nathan reached out and tugged something at Zedd’s neck. Zedd’s hands shot up to feel the smooth metal collar. He could find no seam.
“What is the meaning of this? Why would you do this?”
Nathan heaved a sigh. “Not me, Zedd.” He pointed. “Her.”
A squat old woman with gray hair tied in a loose knot at the back of her head was walking through the doorway. She held the hand of a little girl.
“Ah,” she said, as her fingers touched the top of the dark brown dress buttoned to her throat. “I see Nathan has you back to right. I’m so pleased. We were worried.”
“Is that so,” Zedd said noncommittally.
The old woman smiled. “Yes.” She looked at the little girl, stroking her straight, light brown hair. “This is Holly. She dragged you in here. She saved your life.”
“I seem to remember seeing her. Thank you for your help, Holly. You have my gratitude.”
“I’m so glad you’re healed,” the girl said. “I was afraid that gar might have killed you.”
“Gar? Did you see him? Is he all right?”
She shook her head. “He went over the wall with all those monsters.”
“Bags,” Zedd whispered through his teeth. “That gar was a friend.”
The woman lifted an eyebrow. “A gar? Well, I’m sorry, then.”
Zedd turned his glare on the woman. “What is this collar doing around my neck?”
She spread her hands. “I’m sorry, but it’s necessary for now.”
“You will remove it.”
Her smile stayed where it was. “I understand your concern, but it must remain in place, for now.” She folded her hands at her waist. “I’m afraid I haven’t been introduced. What is your name?”
Zedd’s voice came low and dangerous. “I am First Wizard Zeddicus Zu’l Zorander.”
“I’m Annalina Aldurren, Prelate, of the Sisters of the Light.” Her smile warmed. “You may call me Ann. All my friends do, Zedd.”
With his eyes locked on the woman, Zedd hopped off the table. “You are not my friend.” She took a step back. “You will address me as Wizard Zorander.”
“Easy, friend,” Nathan cautioned.
Zedd turned a glare on him that closed his mouth and straightened
his spine.
She shrugged. “As you wish, Wizard Zorander.”
Zedd tapped the collar at his neck. “Remove this at once.”
Her smile clung tenaciously to her face. “It must remain.”
Zedd began closing the distance between them. Nathan strode forward, apparently to restrain him. Without turning his eyes from the Prelate, Zedd lifted an arm, pointing a thin finger toward Nathan. The big man, his arms flailing, slid backward, as if he were standing on ice in a gale, until he was flattened against the far wall.
Zedd lifted his other hand, and the ceiling lit, glowing with bluish light. As his hand lowered, a razor-thin plane of light, like the surface of a still lake, lowered, passing over them. Ann’s eyes widened. The plane of light descended until it settled on the floor, turning it to a churning layer of boiling light. The light coalesced into points of brilliant intensity.
From the points, lightning erupted. Crackling cords of white fire climbed the walls all around, filling the room with a pungent smell. Zedd circled a finger and the lightning leapt from the wall to his collar. Flashes struck out at the metal. The room shook in sympathy with the dancing thunder. Stone dust filled the air.
The table lifted and then exploded in a cloud of dust that was sucked into the streams of twisting light. The room quaked and groaned as huge blocks of slone loosened and began chattering out of their place in the wall.
Through the fury of power, Zedd realized it wasn’t working. The collar absorbed the violence without breaking. He whipped an arm out, cutting the cacophony and light. The room rang in sudden silence. Enormous stone blocks hung halfway from the wall. The entire floor was charred and black, yet none of them were burned.
Through his analysis of the Prelate, the girl, and Nathan via the light bond, he now knew the exact extent of the power of each, their strengths, and weaknesses. She could not have made the collar, it had been made by wizards, but she could use it.
“Are you quite through?” Ann asked. Her smile was finally gone.
Blood of the Fold tsot-3 Page 53