Magic Lost,Trouble Found

by Lisa Shearin

  He lightly caressed the stone’s surface. “Such a simple thing, is it not, Mistress Benares?”

  My breath caught and my heart hammered in my chest. I actually felt the lightness of his touch, the warmth of him as if his fingertips had touched me, not the stone. I wondered if by controlling the Saghred, he could control me. That wasn’t about to happen, not if I had anything to say about it. I tried not to think that I might not have any say.

  “You still do not understand, do you?” he asked when I didn’t respond.

  His hand remained on the stone, and I felt a warm pressure heavy on the back of my neck. I didn’t know if he was aware of the connection. I felt a shudder coming on and stopped it.

  “You fear what the Saghred would give,” he continued, “because you do not know the extent of its gift.”

  “I never considered madness a gift.”

  “Madness, or an unfettered mind?” His voice was soft and coaxing. “A mind without limits, free to do, to accomplish anything it can imagine. To be without boundaries. As the daughter of Eamaliel Anguis, you will have the honor of experiencing power beyond that of every mage on the Isle of Mid combined. Power the Conclave and their Guardian pets want for their own. Your powers will continue to grow. They fear that. I do not.”

  The stone gleamed in the moonlight and waited. Waited for the decision I didn’t want to make.

  A fire pixie glowed and fluttered near the altar. Either it was the same pixie that had bitten Piaras two nights ago, or it was her twin sister. Or maybe all fire pixies looked alike. I didn’t know. I didn’t care.

  The grand shaman drew a dagger out of his robes. I’d seen its twin last night. A foot-long triangular blade, jewel-encrusted grip, pommel topped with a ruby the size of a child’s fist. That one had been used to tack Nukpana’s letter to me to the embassy gates. I was right; the crazies always carried spares. He put it on the altar next to the casket.

  Piaras’s dark eyes met mine, wide with panic and terror—and hope. A muffled sound came from behind his gag. He hadn’t given up, not yet. He had no idea what I was going to do to keep him from taking that dagger through his heart, but he was hoping I knew.

  I did.

  The goblin grand shaman lifted the Saghred out of the casket and set it on the altar next to the dagger.

  A male pixie clothed in blue flame darted in front of my face, then dove for my neck. I swatted at him, and he fled. Only after he had gone did I feel the sting. I touched my neck and my fingertips came back wet with blood.

  The smell of blood, and the promise of more lured in more fire pixies. They were being cautious—all except Piaras’s pixie. She fluttered around Sarad Nukpana and Piaras, glowing bright orange, eager to feed. Beauty, but no brains. She’d be better off taking her fluttering elsewhere. Piaras struggled in vain against the shackles that bound his wrists over his head.

  Nukpana struck, one-handedly catching the pixie in midair, and crushing her the same way. He wiped the remains on the altar with no more regard than a swatted fly. The Saghred pulsed once with a nearly imperceptible glow. If I had blinked, I’d have missed it. Someone was awake—and hungry.

  Sarad Nukpana’s shields shimmered as he enhanced their power even more. He was being careful. Nothing was getting through those shields unless he allowed it. I was familiar with what he was using—a circle to protect himself against the awakening Saghred, as well as spells, people, and weapons.

  A small silver amulet wasn’t a weapon—but I knew a way to turn it into one.

  The goblin rested one hand lightly on the Saghred, and gestured me to him with the other, still bloody one.

  “Release her,” he told my guards.

  “Sir, are you—?”

  “I said release her.”

  “Your will, my primaru.”

  He gestured me to him again. “If you and the beacon would join me.”

  From what Mychael had told me, I should be close enough to the Saghred to remove the beacon without my usual brush with death. I pulled the diamond chain with the beacon over my head. I could still breathe and stand at the same time. Good. Mychael had been right.

  I hoped my father was right, too.

  Power makes you blind to your own greed—and its consequences. I didn’t know if it would work. I didn’t know if the backlash from Sarad Nukpana’s shields would kill me. But with the goblin’s breath close enough to fog the Saghred’s surface, and Piaras about to be murdered for the sake of a sick experiment, it didn’t matter.

  I tossed the beacon to the goblin. “Catch.”

  The beacon passed through Sarad Nukpana’s shields and into his waiting and bloody hand—shields that ceased to exist when he reached out to grab the beacon. The goblin’s obsidian eyes widened in realization at what he had just done.

  The Saghred, Sarad Nukpana, and blood to bind them—and no shields between them.

  I didn’t know if any of the blood on his hand was his, or if it was all from the dead fire pixie. The Saghred didn’t care. A sacrifice was a sacrifice. And it was hungry.

  A little sacrificial blood and a broken magical circle. The simplest magic was the best kind.

  And greed will make you stupid. Without exception.

  Tendrils of white light wrapped around the goblin’s wrist like steel vines, anchoring him where he stood, engulfing his hand that still gripped the beacon, shooting up his arm to the shoulder, the light coiling and constricting, racing hungrily to consume his body. A high-pitched, strangled shriek came from inside the column of white flame that was Sarad Nukpana.

  Then he was gone.

  The Saghred’s glow diminished to a single pinpoint of light. It winked out, leaving the stone cold and dark on the altar.

  Chapter 24

  After the Saghred consumed Sarad Nukpana, our guards remembered places they desperately needed to be. Apparently their loyalty ceased to exist when their leader did. The fire pixies likewise made themselves scarce. Within seconds we were alone in the clearing.

  As far as distractions went, it was one of my better efforts. And as far as near-death experiences went, I was surprisingly calm. Piaras was alive. I was outside the Saghred. Sarad Nukpana was inside the Saghred. No one was here to keep us from leaving. It wasn’t everything I wanted out of this evening, but I’d take it.

  I cut the gag away from Piaras’s mouth.

  “Are you all right?” I asked.

  He took a shuddering breath and nodded. I couldn’t have agreed more; air was in short supply for me, too. Stupid, tight bodice.

  I pulled one of the hat pins out of my bodice and went to work on Piaras’s wrist shackles. Fortunately there was only one lock. I didn’t want to take my eyes off the Saghred sharing the altar with Piaras, but it wasn’t like I had a choice. I heard a click and glanced up. A’Zahra Nuru had a dainty dagger in one tiny hand and had already picked the lock on one of Piaras’s ankle shackles. I only had one lock to pick and I was still working on it. Not that I was competitive or anything.

  “Thank you, Primari.”

  She smiled. “No, thank you, Mistress Benares.”

  I heard a groan from behind us. The prince must be waking up.

  “Go, I’ll finish,” I told her.

  She rushed over to the prince. If my luck held, he’d be able to walk, too. I had something else to carry. It was lighter, but a whole lot more dangerous.

  The moment I unlocked his wrist shackles, Piaras sat up and pulled a stiletto out of his sleeve.

  “I can get the last one,” he told me.

  And he did. Faster than I thought a lock could be picked. Piaras was very proficient, professional even.

  He saw my surprise and flashed a quick grin. “Phaelan taught me.”

  I was going to have a long talk with Phaelan.

  Piaras removed the last shackle and scrambled off the altar. “What did you do?” He kept his voice low so Primari Nuru couldn’t hear. “Did you have to use…?” He threw a quick glance at the Saghred.

  I sh
ook my head. “Just my brain.” I grinned. “And some fatherly advice. Nukpana didn’t expect either one.”

  The Saghred sat still and dark on the altar. “What’s it doing?” he whispered.

  I grimaced. “Digesting?”

  “We’re leaving now, right?” Piaras sounded like he’d prefer to be already gone.

  “Just as soon as we can get that”—I pointed to the Saghred—“back in there.” I indicated the box.

  “Do we have to take it with us?” Piaras sounded as thrilled with the idea as I was.

  “Afraid we have to.”

  “And you can’t just pick it up?”

  “I’m trying to avoid that.”

  “Probably a good idea.”

  “May I make a suggestion?” asked a cultured voice from behind us.

  We both jumped. I’d forgotten about Primari Nuru.

  “Please do,” I said.

  “As primitive as it may sound, a stick or small branch may be the solution. Turn the casket on its side, then use the stick to push the stone inside.”

  I blinked. “A stick?”

  “The Saghred only responds to direct contact. You would not actually be touching the stone. You should not be harmed.”

  “Should not?”

  Her half smile made her look almost girlish. “So the legends say.”

  “No disrespect intended, Primari, but if it’s a legend, it’s safe to assume those who wrote it are dead. Since I can’t be sure it was from old age, and since I have blood on my hand.” I paused, fighting off a case of the heebie-jeebies. “I’ve been in the Saghred once tonight. It spit me out that time, and I’m not about to try my luck again.”

  The goblin paled, no mean trick with her skin tone. “You were inside?”

  I nodded. “And it’s not a trip I want to repeat, especially now that Sarad Nukpana’s been added to the welcoming committee.”

  Someone was coming toward us. Fast. And they had a lot of company close behind them. My first instinct was to run. But with the Saghred still on the altar, and not a stick in sight, running wasn’t a viable option. Against my better judgment, I stayed.

  It was Mychael and Garadin. There wasn’t a mark on either one of them, which was probably more than could be said for the Khrynsani ordered to take them to the compound. Several Guardians were close behind. Vegard was one of them. He looked a little on the pale side, but he was upright. He looked around the clearing and grinned.

  “Ma’am, you were supposed to leave something for us.”

  “Sorry about that. They left early.” I nodded toward the Saghred. “I got the feeling they didn’t like the company.”

  The big Guardian looked where I was looking. He went a shade pasty. “I can understand that.”

  Mychael looked like he wanted to do something along the lines of a rib-crushing hug. I was experiencing a similar urge toward him. He knew it. I knew that he knew. With the Saghred on the altar and more Guardians arriving in the clearing, I decided that we could always indulge ourselves later. First, I had a soul-eating stone of power to poke with a stick.

  Mychael had a bare blade in his hands. I couldn’t help but notice that it was Khrynsani. I’d imagine its previous owner no longer needed it. The Guardian looked around the clearing, not trusting what he didn’t see. “Where’s Nukpana?”

  Using the smallest gesture possible, Piaras pointed at the Saghred.

  Mychael raised an inquisitive brow.

  “It wasn’t pretty,” I told him.

  “No doubt.”

  “I’ll fill you in on the details later.”

  “I wish you would.” He locked eyes with me. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

  His eyes reflected concern, relief, and rage all at the same time, and I knew in no uncertain terms that if the Saghred and I hadn’t taken out Sarad Nukpana, Mychael would have. I suddenly felt warmed to my toes.

  “No, I’m good.” I looked at the Saghred. “I’d be better if that was back in its box. Though at least I think it’s finished what it’s doing now.”

  “Where’s the beacon?” he asked.

  “Nukpana had it in his hand.”

  “It’s inside, then.”

  I nodded.

  “Then why’s it still sitting out in the open?” Garadin asked, moving closer to the Saghred than I thought safe.

  “Do you want to touch it?”

  Garadin stopped. “Not really.”

  Mychael sheathed his sword. I didn’t think that was a good idea either.

  “Have you considered using a stick?” the Guardian asked.

  Apparently he and the primari had heard the same legend.

  “It’s been suggested,” I said.

  “Then let’s do it. We need to get out of here.”

  Mychael went and knelt next to Chigaru and A’Zahra Nuru. He touched the prince’s temple and raised one of his eyelids to check the damage.

  “He is not badly injured,” the primari told Mychael. “He only needs time.”

  “Time’s in short supply just now, my lady.”

  I’d really hate to survive this long only to have the Saghred slurp me up for dessert, but considering where we were—and who and what was out there—I had to agree with his suggestion to vacate the premises. But that didn’t mean I had to like what I had to do before we left.

  “I’ll find a stick,” Piaras volunteered.

  I sighed. “And I’ll poke the rock.”

  He found one. Quicker than I wanted him to. Now it was my turn. Mychael offered to do it himself, but I couldn’t let him. This one was mine. I didn’t want it to be, but that wasn’t how things had turned out.

  “There wouldn’t happen to be any elaborate containment spells or extra-strength incantations I could use, would there?” I asked anyone and everyone who might know.

  Mychael answered. “There are, but none that have been particularly effective. Personal shields have been the most often used.” He turned to A’Zahra Nuru. “My lady, do you know of any?”

  The primari was supporting a now half-conscious goblin prince. “I am sorry; I do not.”

  Great. I wondered if the poor sots the Saghred had inhaled for breakfast, lunch, and dinner over the ages had used shields, or just thrown caution to the wind. I was willing to bet most had been cautious, like Sarad Nukpana—right before they had been consumed.

  No spells. No incantations. Just me and mine, poking at a stone with cataclysmic power with a stick. If I was the Saghred, I would have been insulted. Hopefully it wouldn’t take any resentment out on me.

  I turned the casket on its side; and wielding the long, forked stick like a rapier, made contact with the Saghred and pushed it neatly into the box. Point control was good for something. I closed the lid using the same maneuver. Power prickled up my arm, but other than that, the rock didn’t seem to mind the contact. I shuddered, blew out the air I’d been holding, and picked up the box. The beacon was in the Saghred with Sarad Nukpana. In theory since I no longer had the beacon, I should no longer feel a connection with the Saghred.

  No such luck.

  “I really hoped I’d be able to get rid of this.”

  Mychael was looking at me funny. Not the good kind of funny. I looked down at myself. I wasn’t glowing or anything.

  “What?” I asked.

  “The bond is still there.”

  He didn’t ask it as a question. I wish he had. He knew it as well as I did. Must have been kind of obvious somehow. The power the Saghred had offered me to destroy Sarad Nukpana was still there, inside me, waiting just below the surface. Waiting for what, I wasn’t really sure. Oh boy.

  Mychael’s lips set in a grim line. “Is it trying to influence you?”

  “No. At least not right now. It feels more like a big dog with very big teeth on a very short leash.” I grimaced. “A well-fed dog at the moment. Any idea how often it gets hungry?”

  “Not a clue.”

  “Not what I wanted to hear.”

  His expression w
as unreadable. “We’ll be taking it back to Mid.”

  That was good news, but I didn’t need the Saghred’s help to know his thoughts. That wasn’t all Mychael wanted to take back to Mid with him.

  “I would like it very much if you would come with me,” he said.

  I assumed since he asked nicely there wasn’t a trip over his shoulder in my immediate future. Good to know.

  “Because the Saghred thinks I’m its new psychic roommate?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Think someone on Mid could help me serve the eviction notice?”

  “Probably.”

  I wanted to be rid of the Saghred, so that was a good reason to go to Mid, but it wasn’t quite good enough. Not anymore. I walked over to where Mychael was and looked up at him, a challenge in my eyes and a tiny smile on my lips. “Is there another reason you want me to come home with you?” I asked softly.

  A corner of his mouth quirked upward. “One.”

  “Does that reason have anything whatsoever to do with the Soul Thief?”

  “Nothing,” he murmured.

  My smile broadened. “Can you answer me with more than one word?”

  His smile melted into that boyish grin. “Maybe later.”

  Garadin cleared his throat. “Riston has boats waiting for us.”

  Piaras started. “What about my grandmother?”

  “Not to worry, my boy,” Garadin said. “She’s safe with Tam Nathrach.” He glanced at me. “Your primaru does good work.” He only sounded slightly begrudging.

  “He knew where Nukpana was keeping your grandmother,” Mychael explained to Piaras. “We worked it out ahead of time that he would take a few Guardians, rescue her, and destroy Nukpana’s workroom so he couldn’t open any more Gates from Mermeia. Nukpana’s overworked his shamans for the past few days, so Tam didn’t encounter much resistance.”

  The Ruins were quiet as we left. I don’t mean quiet as in serene. I mean silent in an unnatural and bad way. The only sounds we heard were the sounds we made, and I wasn’t the only one who didn’t like it. Blades were out. Crossbows were ready. I knew only too well you couldn’t rely on footsteps to announce some of The Ruins’ nasties. Too many of them didn’t have feet.