“It is mindwyrd,” said Ebon. Lilith looked at him. Her eyes narrowed for a moment, and then went wide as she nodded. She understood.
Kalem and Nella had approached and stood just behind them. Together they all moved forwards once more. Soon they reached the open door; Ebon recognized it from when they had come with Theren. The frame still stood bare, for no one had replaced the door after Isra had blasted it from its hinges.
Within the vault were two sleeping figures. One, nearer the back, was Isra. But there was a second, smaller figure, its shaggy dark hair sticking out in all directions, clearly unwashed.
Ebon gasped. “It is Erin!”
The Dean’s son lay on his back, his hands folded over his chest. For a moment Ebon feared the worst, but then he saw the boy’s chest rise and fall. Quickly he stole forwards to put a hand on the boy’s shoulder—and then, thinking better of that, he put his hand over Erin’s mouth before shaking the boy. But he might as well have shaken a log. Erin’s eyes remained closed.
“She could have commanded him to sleep,” said Lilith. She whispered with her lips almost pressed to Ebon’s ear, watching Isra warily. “If she did, he will not rouse until she commands him to, or until the mindwyrd wears off. You must carry him out of here.”
“After we … deal with Isra,” said Ebon.
But Lilith shook her head. “No. In her death throes, she may lash out. Mayhap Nella and I can protect ourselves, but not all of you. Get the children away, and we will finish it.”
Ebon nodded and motioned Kalem over. He came at once, and stooped to lift Erin into his arms. Fortunately the boy was slight, and Kalem could bear the weight with only a little struggle. He trundled off down the hallway with jerky, staggering steps.
Next Ebon went to Astrea. Her mouth was slightly open, and a little drool had come out of the corner of her mouth. He hesitated. Surely she was not mindwyrded to sleep—Isra would have left her on guard. She would rouse when he tried to wake her. If she attacked Ebon with magic, could he stop her? He was not nearly as advanced in alchemy as she, but he had countered her spells before.
He gave a nervous glance over his shoulder. Lilith and Nella stood there, magelight in their eyes, looking at him. He must hasten, or Isra might wake, and then all would be lost.
Mayhap the mindwyrd had worn off already. He would have to risk it, and if not, then he must hope he was able to stop her magic. He should have kept Kalem around to help, but the boy was already out of sight around the first turn in the hallway.
Ebon slapped a hand over Astrea’s mouth. Her eyes shot open. They flew about the hall wildly as she blinked in the light of the candle.
“Shh, shh,” said Ebon, placing a finger to her lips. “It is me, Astrea.”
She focused on him at last. Her brows drew together. But she did not lift her hands, and he saw no glow of magic in her eyes.
“That is right,” he said. “It is Ebon. Are you under Isra’s command?”
At first she only stared at him. His heart sank. But then, slowly, she shook her head.
Relief washed through him. “Good. Then come with me. I am getting you out of here.”
He took away his hand and stood, reaching down to help her up.
Panic filled her eyes, and she screamed, “They are here!”
A blast of power shook the walls as Isra came awake.
thirty-nine
THE CANDLE DIED—A SPELL of Lilith’s—and the hallway was plunged into darkness. Then a hand gripped Ebon’s arm and dragged him down the hall. He screamed and tried to fight it off, but then he heard a growl in his ear. “Shut up, Drayden, and run.” It was Nella.
Ebon gained command of his limbs again, and followed her, though he could see nothing. She jerked left, turning the corner down another hall. The instant they reached it, Lilith threw up a ball of flame.
“We cannot let her see us,” cried Lilith. “If she can see us, she can kill us.” Mentalism relied upon line of sight, Ebon knew—even with magestones, Isra could not harm them if they were hidden from her view.
They heard Isra’s enraged screaming behind them, and Lilith doused the light again, just a few paces from the next corner in the halls. They stumbled forwards blind, and then when they turned the corner, Lilith lit the way once more.
“Astrea!” said Ebon. “We have left her behind!”
“Isra had her under command,” said Lilith. “She will not be harmed.”
Ebon glanced back, uncertain. But what could he do, other than throw himself into Isra’s wrath, and surely perish?
Soon they reached the vault entrance and burst into the Academy halls. Now the place was well-lit by torches, and Ebon felt his heart in his throat. If Isra caught sight of them for so much as a second, they were lost. He saw that Nella had taken Erin from Kalem’s arms, and was panting heavily as she ran. Kalem was barely keeping up with them. The boy wept in fear, his breath wheezing from his near-bursting lungs.
Now they could not worry about being discovered. Indeed, Ebon hoped someone would spot them, because then they could give warning of Isra’s presence. But there was no one in the halls. No instructors, no other faculty. They would have to survive on their own.
Just as they turned a corner, making for the front hall, there came a crack of shattering stone. Shards of granite flew through the air. One struck Ebon in the arm, and he cried out in pain. Isra must have just caught a glimpse of them as they fled around a corner. He thanked the sky that she had not seen them in full view. But then he saw Nella and Kalem. Their pace flagged more and more with each step—Kalem from weariness, and Nella from carrying Erin’s body.
Without warning, he shoved them off down the next side hallway they passed. “Go!” he cried. “Get Erin to safety, and get help. She will not kill all of us, at least.” Then he took Lilith’s arm and ran on with her. Nella cried out in protest, but she did not come after them, and soon he heard the sound of her footsteps hurrying off beside Kalem’s.
Ebon and Lilith reached the end of the hall, and he pulled her to a stop before they turned the corner. Together they faced the way they had come, ready to dive out of sight the moment Isra came into view. Lilith glanced at him. “That was bravely done, Drayden,” she said.
“The least I could do,” muttered Ebon.
Isra rounded the corner at the other end of the hall. She was so surprised to see them standing there, facing her without running, that she skidded to a stop and nearly fell over. For half a moment she paused, too shocked even to use her magic against them.
In that half-moment, Ebon took her in. Her hair was all dishevelment, lank and greasy and sticking out in many directions. Her clothes were filthy from collar to hem, and grime covered every bit of her skin. Hiding in the vaults had given her little opportunity to bathe, it seemed.
“Run!” he cried, and dove out of view with Lilith. Too late, a black glow sprang into Isra’s eyes, and stones in the wall behind them shattered as she struck.
“She will chase us now, I think,” said Ebon, breaking into a sprint.
“What wonderful news,” said Lilith. They glanced at each other as they ran, and gave each other a grim smile.
They reached the next corner half a moment too late. Just as Ebon thought he was about to pass it safely, an invisible force picked him up and slammed him into a wall. For one moment he floated there, feeling Isra’s magic crush him. But Lilith turned back, and with magelight in her eyes she struck. A blast of wind slammed into Isra and she fell to the floor, surprised by the attack. Ebon slumped, and Lilith dragged him up after her.
“It is only a matter of time before she catches us,” said Ebon. Then he cried out, screaming as loud as his burning lungs would let him. “Help! Help! An enemy within the halls!”
Lilith seized his sleeve and slapped him, then shoved him on to run again. “Be silent, you fool! You will only bring more into the fray—more for Isra to kill. And I have an idea.”
They were near the front hall now, but Lilith turned from
it. Soon after, she skidded to a stop before a door Ebon recognized. It was the entrance to the bell tower.
He balked. “Here? But atop the tower, we will be trapped.”
“Not if we can throw her from it,” said Lilith. “It is the only thing I can think of.” Light sprang into her eyes, and a massive ball of flame erupted from her fingers. The door exploded with a heavy BOOM, falling inward as smoldering kindling.
They ran to the stairs and up, and now Ebon’s lungs screamed in earnest. His pace flagged, but then he heard Isra’s shrieks of rage beneath them, and fright lent his legs new strength. The stairs behind them crumpled, and one piece of railing after another exploded into splinters. Ebon raised his arm to shield himself as they pounded up the stairway. But it blocked them from Isra’s view, and she could only lash out at the space around them, not ensnare them in her mindwyrd.
When at last they reached the top of the tower, Ebon fell to all fours. He forced himself to crawl forwards, heedless of Lilith when she seized his shoulder and dragged him on. Fighting to his feet seemed like the hardest thing he had ever done.
“I will hide in one corner, and you another,” she said. “Whoever she finds first, the other will be behind her. If it is you, you must strike. You cannot stay your hand. Do you hear me?”
He nodded, too breathless to speak. She shoved him behind many coils of rope piled high, and then ran to the same place she had hidden when he first saw her in the tower.
The place went silent. Ebon gasped and gulped, trying to control his breath, fearful that Isra would be able to hear him.
Then he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. He clapped his hand over his mouth.
Each step made the stairs creak and groan. The wood was old already, and Isra’s assault had battered it, so that it was now even more unsteady. But then she reached the top, and the sound of her footsteps vanished. Ebon froze, trying to press himself deeper into the coils of rope.
When a few moments had passed without a sound or sight of her, he dared to poke his head out to peer with one eye around the rope coils.
Isra came into view. The black glow raged in her eyes. She held both hands raised, ready to strike. Her frame was nearly skeletal. Her hair seemed somehow thinner than he remembered. Skin clung to her bones so that her face was little more than a skull. But he could feel the strength of her magic in the prickling of his skin.
A noise came from the crates where Lilith was hiding. Isra whirled. Ebon looked desperately around. There was a large metal hook on the ground, as big as both his hands. He stooped and lifted it. With a cry he jumped out of the ropes, swinging the hook at her.
She turned too quickly, and a wall of force met him in midair. It pitched him back against the ropes, which scattered in all directions. He slumped to the ground and fought to rise again. But behind Isra, he saw Lilith step out of hiding. Magelight was in her eyes, and she screamed a word of power. Isra turned and held up a hand. Lilith’s magelight died. Isra seized her and threw her sideways with terrible force.
Lilith struck the stone floor ten paces away, slid under the railing, and vanished over the edge, screaming.
“No!” cried Ebon, leaping up. He swung the hook again. This time Isra did not strike him, but seized him with her magic and lifted him into the air. Invisible fingers clutched at his throat, and it felt like two steel plates pressed his body flat. He struggled for breath, but could not even raise his hands to clutch at his neck. An image flashed into his mind, of his battle against Cyrus on the southern cliffs of the Seat. But now Adara was not here to save him.
“Drayden,” hissed Isra. “The goldshitter whose shit is most golden of all. I wish I had killed you in the kitchens, but then, it will be sweeter now after waiting for so long.”
Ebon tried to answer her, but he could only wheeze.
“You will not speak except to answer my questions,” said Isra. She tightened her fingers closer to a fist, and Ebon cried out in pain. “Now tell me: who was the man with you in the basement of Xain’s house?”
Spots danced at the edge of his vision, and for a moment Ebon could not understand her words. Snarling, she let her hand relax a bit, and the pressure on his chest relented. “Mako,” he gasped. “His name is Mako. He works for my family.”
“How did he withstand me?” said Isra. “I had the amulet. Even if he was a wizard, he should not have been able to stop me.”
“He is no wizard,” said Ebon. “I do not know why your magic was powerless against him.”
She gave a frustrated shout and clenched her fist. Ebon tried to scream, but could only choke. He felt his spit catch in his windpipe, but he could not even cough it up. He began to suffocate.
The black glow increased in Isra’s eyes, and her nostrils flared. “Tell me how he withstood my magic,” she said. Her voice was suddenly thick and rich with power.
Ebon felt something close over his mind. It was like a fist gripped his thoughts with a force just as powerful as that which held his body. She had used her mindwyrd upon him. His muscles went slack, and he stopped his struggling. He could no longer force his vacant eyes to focus. In his mind he screamed, but his mouth made no sound. He was watching his body act now, and all thought of control had gone.
“I do not know how he withstood your magic,” he said, his voice toneless. He had not summoned the words.
“You are under my command!” cried Isra. “Tell me how he did it!”
“I do not know,” said Ebon. “I cannot tell you.”
She bared her teeth. Trapped within his own mind, Ebon knew he was about to die. He could not give her any answers. And without answers, he was of no value to her. He braced himself and readied to be crushed, or thrown from the tower’s edge.
But the glow in Isra’s eye faltered. She shuddered, and the force clutching Ebon vanished all at once. He came crashing to the ground as Isra sank to one knee.
At once she fumbled in her robes, reaching for something in one of her pockets. “I am so close now,” she muttered. “You will not stop me. You cannot stop me.”
For a moment Ebon was stunned, too surprised to act. But he recovered just in time, just as she pulled forth a brown cloth packet. He leapt as she pulled a black, translucent stone from within it, and bore her to the ground. The cloth packet spilled from her grip, and the stones scattered on the floor.
Isra scrabbled for them, fighting him with the strength of a madwoman. But her limbs were thin and wasted, and Ebon forced her hands away. One of his hands went to cover her eyes, so that she could not use her magic against him. The other went to her throat. Almost unbidden, he felt his power flow into him, and the tower grew brighter as his eyes began to glow.
He saw her. All the tiny parts of her that made up her skin, and the flesh beneath, and the blood that flowed through it all.
Almost, he changed it. Almost, he turned it to stone. But he froze at the last second.
He saw Cyrus plunging into the Great Bay. And he heard Matami’s screams in the sewers beneath the city.
She will kill you, he thought. He remembered Lilith pitching over the tower’s edge, and his jaw clenched.
He changed—
A glow flooded Isra’s eyes, and she flung him off with desperate strength. He flew back, landing flat on his back on the stone, and all his breath left him. Even as he gasped, he saw Isra scoop one of the black stones off the floor and shove it between her lips. Her whole body spasmed, back arching and then curling in on itself. She screamed, but the scream turned into a laugh, terrible and long and cruel. The black glow returned to her eyes, and she rose to her feet on the strength of her magic alone. Once more her teeth showed in a skull’s smile.
“Now die, you Drayden shit,” she growled.
Ebon flinched—and then flames erupted all over her body, and she fell to the ground, screaming.
He looked past her. And there, beyond all hope, was Xain. The Dean stood at the head of the stairs, and a mighty glow was in his eyes. His teeth were bared in a grim
ace just as terrible as Isra’s, and he screamed dark words as the flames leapt higher on Isra’s skin.
But Isra had the strength of magestones, and she recovered herself before he could press the advantage. She snarled, and the flames upon her skin winked out in an instant. Still smoking and smoldering, she turned and battered him with spells. Xain tried to fend them off, but she overpowered him and he fell back, landing hard on the stone floor. Still he raised a hand, warding off a blow that might have crushed his head to a pulp.
Somehow Ebon found the strength to rise. He tackled Isra from behind, and again he covered her eyes with his hand. Crying out, he tried to press harder, digging into her eyelids. But her fingers gripped his, and with terrible strength she began to pry his grip from her.
“Ebon! Get away from her!” cried a voice.
His gaze was dragged up, where he saw Lilith kneeling at the tower’s edge. Fury was in her eyes, and her lips spasmed in anger.
He rolled off and away. Almost before he was clear, Lilith sent forth a bolt of lightning. It flew straight and true, and struck Isra straight in the eyes.
Isra screamed, a scream so terrible that Ebon feared his eardrums might burst, and her head struck the stone as she flew back. She thrashed back and forth, clawing at her eyes, but between her fingers Ebon could see the damage: beneath her brow was a ruined pulp, a mix of burned and melted flesh and flowing blood.
Lilith stepped forwards, lifting her hands again. Her screams matched Isra’s own, as full of fury as the mindmage’s were of pain. Flames sprang to life on Isra’s body again, white-hot, so that Ebon had to shield his face from them. He scrambled away from the roasting fires, and the sudden sounds of melting, popping, sizzling flesh. Lilith did not relent. The flames grew in strength, rising higher and higher. Even when Isra stopped moving at last, Lilith kept the fires blazing, kept screaming, tears streaming from her glowing eyes as the corpse turned to slag upon the floor.
The Firemage's Vengeance Page 25