The basti dropped into a stalking stance, eyes fixed on Daric. She slowly padded forward, teeth bared and claws out. Daric glanced over her back, just in time to see Mairi disappear into the hidden passage.
“You are in my way,” he told the cat.
But the animal kept coming, eyes still fixed on him.
That feeling of washed out hopeless flooded back. As Daric stared into the basti’s eyes, he felt the urge to lay down the shortsword he had taken from the woman and just sit on the floor. What was the point in fighting? Lord Breen would win; all fighting would get him was more dead friends. Had he not seen enough of that? Grady, Mikelmoor, Olam; when would it end? No, better to lay down his blade and submit to the inevitable. No more fighting, no more worry. He could go home to Albergeddy and live out his days as a farmer. That’s what he really wanted, wasn’t it?
He had all but put his shortsword on the floor when a black and grey blur flew in through the broken window. Daric stepped back as Nana flourished a double handed blade. She had killed two guards and was advancing on the basti before Daric could stand up from his stoop.
The basti backed away. Seemed she knew the new woman. The cat made a quick survey of the room, then quickly turned. A moment later, she disappeared inside the secret passage.
The new woman stood straight. Turning to Daric, she said, “Well, don’t just stand there, go after her.”
“Nana?” Daric said. “But you’re supposed to be…”
He remembered his conversation with Nana, the sister she had shamed, and how he had promised to rescue her. A smile creased his lip. Rescue her, the thought, wryly, seems she is rescuing me.
The woman looked confused. She would not know Daric knew her sister, and never mind that she had told him of her shame.
“You are Ally, aren’t you?”
“I am, but how did you…? Why did you call me Nana?”
“We are friends. She told me about you.”
“Oh, she did, did she? That was good of her. Where is she?”
Ally looked around the room.
“Safe,” Daric said. “We had to leave her with the Rukin. She told me about—”
“Later,” Ally interrupted. “We can have our reunion later.” The curl of her lip said she was not looking forward to that.
“Of course. Will you be all right here?”
“Don’t worry about me,” she said. “You go find Mairi.”
Shaking himself back to reality, Daric nodded. He glanced around the room. He did not like leaving a fight, but Ally was right, he had to go after Mairi. Without another word, he followed the cat into the secret passage.
CHAPTER 34
The Inside Space
Daric ran through the secret passage heedless of the low ceiling and tight corners. All was dark, even the walls had been painted black, but that did not matter; he could hear the echo of quick footsteps maybe twenty paces ahead. If Daric had stopped a moment to think, he might have worried that there was a huge cat in there with him, but all he could think of was getting to Mairi and getting her out of there.
The last week had felt more like a year. The thought of his precious Mairi kept prisoner by any man was more than he could stand. That she had been a hostage to one such as Breen had only double his fear. Was that why he had been such a fool, believing in Gaiden’s plan to rescue his wife? Of course Brin had been right, it was never going to work. Daric decided he would have to apologise to the man when all this was over and they were safely back in Bailryn.
His foot found a step just in time to stop himself falling down a narrow flight of stairs. Hand running along the wall, Daric made his way down one flight, then another. That last flight of stairs had been long; he was under the manor house, likely close to a cellar of some kind. The sound of footsteps was fading. Daric heard a door slam, then a shout. Or was it a cry? It was a woman’s voice, at any rate. Mairi was putting up a fight.
By the echo, Daric thought he was in a wide room. He quickly felt his way around the walls. There were two other doors: one a flimsy panel, the other a thick interior door, like those he had seen up in the ballroom. He chose the flimsy panel.
The passage was low, here. Daric had to run with his head ducked down past his shoulders. He was just wondering if he had taken a wrong turn, when he was rewarded with another cry.
Ahead, he saw a thin slither of orange light. Either there was a fire up ahead, or someone was carrying a lamp. The ceiling returned to its full height as Daric made his way toward the light. He turned a tight corner, and came face to face with the basti.
The cat was up on its hind legs, front paws holding the wall on either side. Even in the near-dark passage, Daric could clearly see its green eyes. He looked away, instead focusing on the cat’s shoulder. He had expected the creature to attack, but it seemed to satisfy itself with blocking the way.
“Are you going to move?” Daric asked it. “I don’t want to kill you, cat. Let me by.”
For a wonder, the cat dropped to all fours. She back up a few steps until she was standing in the middle of a small cellar. There was only one other door leading away from the cellar, and the cat made sure she stopped right in front of it.
Stolen shortsword in hand, Daric stared at the beast.
A thought occurred to him – was this the creature Magryn had told him about, the one who had disrupted the Balance?
No, it is a basti. They have no power but for their hypnotic eyes.
Are you sure? Daric asked the lattice.
Quite sure. Would you like a full history?
No, that’s fine. Any idea how I can move it out of the way without having to fight the thing?
You might try singing, the lattice said. The basti mind is susceptible to a soft melody. Do you know a lullaby?
“Singing?” Daric said out loud. Then, to the lattice, he added, Does it have to be any good? I’m not known for my singing voice.
I doubt the quality of the voice matters. As long as you hit the right notes.
That’s what I was worried about.
Daric cleared his throat. Then, in a deep voice, he started singing the only lullaby he could remember.
The Silver moon has risen
The golden stars do shine
Out of the meadow
The mists of evening rise
Through forest and valley
The river of dreams must run
Rest oh little angel
The peace of Ein’laig has come
For a wonder, the big cat yawned.
Sing it again, the lattice said.
Daric did. And before the end of the first verse, the basti was asleep.
Carefully, Daric stepped over the sleeping creature. He continued on soft feet for another ten paces, then started to run again.
He did not have far to go.
At the end of a shallow slope, the secret passage opened into a large room of wooden walls and ceiling. The floor was all dirt, but there were signs of regular use and more than a few footprints. Wherever this was, someone had been busy.
“What did you do with Kasini?” Breen said.
He was standing in the corner, next to an unopened door. Mairi, who had clearly been fighting her captor, was kneeling on the floor at Breen’s feet, her head bowed, blood on her cheek.
Daric lunged forward. But before he got halfway across the cellar, Mairi cried out as Breen pulled hard at her hair. Her head rose, face contorted with sudden pain. Breen pulled her up, so she was straining to lessen the pressure on her hair. He showed Daric the long knife, then place the blade under Mairi’s chin.
“That will do, I think,” Breen said.
“If you kill her, I’ll—”
“Oh please, enough of your sentiment, Colonel. We both know I could kill you before you raise a hand to me.”
And what is that supposed to mean? Daric wondered.
I told you, the lattice said, he is disrupting the Voice and the Balance, which means the man is at least possessed of a powerf
ul Sentriachs, maybe even a Cral demon. Clearly, he thinks you know his secret.
Disrupting the balance, Daric said to himself, thinking about what the Ulroch priestess had said. There was no doubt now; Yosil and Brin had both been right, Breen was the cause of the imbalance.
I could have told you that day’s ago, the lattice said.
Oh, be quiet. I had a lot on my mind.
Daric forced a grin. “Kill me before I raised a hand?” he asked Breen. “If that were true, why did you run?”
Breen shrugged. “I have little patience for fighting. To be honest, I expected the guards to take care of you, but as you are here, I suppose I will have to do it. Do you have any last words for your wife?”
Breen pulled harder on Mairi’s hair, exposing her neck.
Daric reached out a hand. “Don’t!” he yelled. “If you want her, take her, but please, don’t do it.”
He backed away from the middle of the room, hand still raised. Breen was grinning like a child who had won a toy on Feast Day. It was all Daric could do not to charge at the man. Had he thought he would be quick enough, he would have done so. He would have cut the smile off that bastards living flesh.
He backed up another step, and Breen relaxed his grip on Mairi’s hair.
“I’m tempted to give her to you,” he said. “It might be worth it, just to see the back of you.”
“If you do that, I promise we will leave you in peace.”
Daric risked a small step forward.
“Just hand her over. We’ll go. I promise, you will never see me again.”
“That’s far enough,” Breen said. “And while we’re being accommodating, you can drop that blade.”
Daric looked down at the stolen shortsword. He had forgotten he was holding the thing. With a flick of the wrist, he tossed it to the side.
I don’t think that’s a very good idea, the lattice said. From what I know of tactics, you should not drop your weapon in the middle of a fight.
Daric ignored the voice. “Your turn,” he told Breen – or whatever the thing was controlling him. “Just let her go, let her come to me.”
Breen looked down at Mairi. His eyes started to blink. He swayed once, then his lips were moving, as if talking to himself.
Daric frowned. What was wrong with the man? He looked like he was arguing with himself. Absently, he wondered if Breen had his own lattice attached to his skull.
Not a lattice, no, Daric’s lattice said. But if he is possessed, maybe the host is arguing with the possessor.
That made sense, Daric thought. But which of the two had their hand wrapped in Mairi’s hair? Who was controlling the body now?
It must be the demon, Daric thought. Breen is a nasty bastard, but I doubt he would murder an unarmed woman.
“You can let her go,” Daric repeated. “We’ll leave you in peace. I promise.”
Breen appeared to shake himself. A moment later, he seemed to gather his wits.
“I think I will keep hold of her for a little while longer. Not that I don’t trust you, Colonel, but, well, I don’t trust you.”
“I have given you my word, Breen. Just let her go, please.”
Again, the man swayed. He seemed to tighten his grip on Mairi’s hair. His lips were moving so fast, Daric wondered if he could understand what he was saying to himself.
“Breen?” Daric said. “You were going to let her go, remember?” He took another small step forward.
What was wrong with the man? He was staring at the wall, now, his lips still moving. If Daric could get a few steps closer, he could…
“That’s far enough,” Breen said, his voice commanding. “If you want your wife back with all her limbs intact, you will wait here until I free her.”
Breen backed toward the door. Dagger still under Mairi’s chin, he freed his other hand from her hair and reached back for the door handle.
Three things happened in the next few seconds: Mairi thrust an elbow into Breen’s knee, Daric dipped at the waist and gathered a handful of dirt, and Mairi rolled away from Breen, the reflexive swipe of his blade barely missing the back of her neck.
Daric threw the dirt in Breen’s eyes just as His Lordship made a stab for Mairi’s back. Mairi rolled again, but only as far as the wall. There was a lamp hanging on the wall above where she crouched. She paused a moment to get her bearing, then, seeing Daric waving her forward, she rolled onto her feet and ran for the first door.
Daric was waiting for her. They turned together, and Daric felt a brief moment of relief – they were going to escape; they would run back through the secret passage, and they would escape. But before the thought could fully form in Daric’s mind, the basti took his legs out from under him.
He fell hard onto his left knee. Crying out, he grabbed Mairi’s elbow and tried to push her toward the door. “Run!” he shouted. “Get out of here.”
Had she run then, she may have escaped, but she hesitated long enough for the basti to turn on her.
They were both cornered, one door to their left, the other to their right, neither was close enough to make a run at. And with the basti awake, how far would they get?
Breen was rubbing his eyes. “Very clever,” he said. “You almost had me.”
Daric, still on the floor, his knee numbed from his fall, leaned away from the basti. Mairi, who was crouching behind him, her arms around his chest in a loose embrace, was shaking, Daric noticed. Why had she not run when she had the chance?
They were both cornered: Breen to their right, blocking the second door, the basti in front, blocking the first. For a cat, the basti was doing a remarkably good job of looking annoyed. Maybe she was angry at Daric lulling her to sleep. Whatever the reason, she was creeping forward, one huge paw at a time, her eyes fixed on Daric.
“Don’t look at her eyes,” Daric whispered. “She will draw you in.”
Breen let out a short laugh. “Oh, I think we are beyond that stage, Colonel. I might have liked to have you in my ranks, but you have proven far too troublesome. Better you were gone, I think. Kasini?”
Breen spoke the question to the basti, then waved a finger toward Daric. The giant cat seemed to grin as she took another step forward, her sharp teeth reflecting the dull light from the single lantern.
Daric gripped Mairi’s hand and gave it a squeeze. He glanced over his shoulder. Seeing her fearful expression was like a hammer to his heart. Would she have the wit to run this time? He could only give her a few seconds.
“Get ready,” he whispered.
Daric pulled his good leg under his backside and readied himself. He would have to be quick. A grab for the neck, maybe tangle a hand in the big cat’s fur: he had to hold on long enough to give Mairi a chance.
He was about to lunge, when Breen made a strangled cough. He reached up to his throat, then fell back against the wall. Daric watched as Breen’s face paled. Eyes wide, His Lordship slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor, all the while clawing at his throat. He was trying to say something, but Daric could not understand a word of it. The more he spoke, the more it sounded like two people talking.
The basti had ceased her advance. Apparently, she was as curious as Daric was – what had happened to Breen?
The host is fighting back, the lattice said. Interesting; there are few texts on such battles. Can we stay and watch?
Daric, still sitting on the floor, ignored the question. He looked up at Mairi. “Go. Now, while he’s down. Run!”
“I’m not leaving without you,” Mairi said, and she tried to pull him to his feet.
Daric made it up onto his good knee, but could not put weight on his injured leg.
He reached up for Mairi’s shoulder, just as Breen said. “Hurry. Kill me. Do it now.”
Breen had stopped clawing at his throat. He was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall, breathing heavily, his face a river of sweat.
Daric, leaning heavily on Mairi’s shoulder, managed to hobble over to him. “Who are you
? Why did you—?”
“Kill me. I can’t hold him much longer. Kill me, now!”
Feebly, Lord Breen raised his knife and handed it to Daric, hilt first. Daric took the blade, but only to disarm; he was not about to kill a defenceless man.
I believe that would be a mistake, the lattice said. Judging by the blackened circle around his eyes and the cold pallor of his skin, not to mention he was talking Faesai a few moments ago, I would say your friend is losing his battle. Better to kill him now. Unless, of course, you have a summoning shard and can find a Cral Priestess. Do you have a summoning sha—?
You know I don’t, Daric Sent. And stop talking. I’m not going to kill a sick, unarmed man.
I don’t think that is a very good id—
“Breen,” Daric said, ignoring the voice in his head. “What can we do?”
Breen looked up at him. Eyes pleading, he said, “Kill me. Please.”
He was shaking now, his hands on either side of his head, rubbing hard at his temples. Daric looked down at the knife in his hand, then at Mairi. He hated this man for what he had done to his wife, dreamed of what he would do when he finally caught up to Breen, but how could he kill the trembling wreck now sat before him?
Mairi was shaking her head. “Tie him up,” she said. “Use his belt.”
Yes, that a good idea, tie him up.
Daric handed Mairi the knife, then bent down to unfasten Breen’s belt.
But the instant he touched the buckle, the basti sprang at him, teeth bared, claws ready to strike.
Daric hobbled back. Bumping into Mairi, he tripped and landed hard on his bad leg. A shriek of pain burst from his lungs, and he grabbed his injured knee. Mairi immediately dropped to his side, her arm under his neck, holding his head off the dirt.
“Breen,” Daric groaning. “Quickly, you must—”
Before he could finish, telling Mairi to bind His Lordship’s wrists and ankles, a streak of silver flashed before Daric’s eyes. The cat backed away from the black blur that was now in the cellar with them. Another streak of silver, and Daric watched, open-mouthed, as Ally spun in the air. The basti bound toward the door. Ally followed.
The Ship of Tears: (The Legend of the Nine: Part One) (The Eastern Kingdom Chronicles Book 8) Page 40