by Unknown
The oak door swung open. The expected footfall landed to her right.
Shada took a fast step backwards, spun about, and kicked the big door back against the entering Guardsman. The blow slammed his head against the stone wall. As the unconscious man slumped to floor, Shada pulled the sword from his hilt and pushed through the door.
She barely stopped herself from decapitating her sister, Sienna.
Born of a single moment, the twin girls looked nothing alike. Though they shared their mother's dusky skin coloring and green eyes, Shada's hair was a golden blond, Sienna's a copper-threaded black.
Sienna blinked as the blade halted inches from her throat. Shada could not abide her sister's unbreakable self-control.
Sienna pushed the sword aside and stepped over the downed Guardsman, back into the cell. "That was uncalled for, but does give us the advantage of privacy."
Shada turned as her sister stepped past. "There's a plot. We have to warn Father."
"There's no plot," Sienna said. "Close the door."
"I just broke out of here."
"You assaulted the Guardsman I instructed to let you out. There's a difference."
"The Scarlet Guard imprisoned me."
"On my orders."
"You did this?" Shada nearly choked. She had little enough affection for her sister. Sienna was a natural at the scheming and doubletalk of their father's Court. Her every sentence contained wheels within wheels which Shada hadn't the wit or patience to untangle. Even so, this marked a new low in their relationship. "Explain why I shouldn't beat you senseless."
"You defeated the water gorgon." Sienna appeared not remotely frightened. "I've handed you a great victory."
"The water gorgon nearly ate me. And you had nothing to do with my victory."
Sienna offered the sly smile that Shada detested more than all her other expressions combined, the one that said, 'you just can't keep up,' and Shada realized she'd been played.
The day before she'd overheard Sienna discussing an old pirate cache down in the caves that held dozens of ancient weapons. Shada collected swords, the older the better, and had been intrigued enough to investigate. Just as Sienna had intended.
"You tricked me into going into the caves so that I'd stumble over the gorgon?"
Sienna nodded.
"I knew that you hated me, but I didn't realize how much." Shada wasn't sure what penalty she'd suffer for taking a swing at her sister, but she was increasingly certain it would be worth it.
"Don't be a child. I knew you could defeat the beast. I knew that you'd want to. You should thank me."
"Should I also thank you for having me locked up?"
"You should," Sienna said. "I'm trying to save your life."
"Whatever danger I'm in," Shada had no idea what the danger was, but as she did manage to put herself in mortal danger with some regularity, was willing to concede the point, "I don't need your protection."
"Perhaps, Princess." Sir Gregory, the King's Privy Councilor, stood in the door. "But if you hope to survive the night, I'd advise you to take it."
* * * *
"It's a flattering likeness," Sienna said. "If you survive you'll likely see an uptick in marriage proposals."
Shada couldn't look away from the apparition, her face painted large on the evening clouds over St. Navarre, visible from every alley and window in the city. On the upside, she did look good. On the downside, the magical portrait was an announcement that she had been marked for death and would perish in some imaginatively unpleasant fashion before dawn.
She turned back to Sienna and Gregory. "Would someone like to explain why Abraxas the Great and Powerful has decided to murder me?"
"You killed his gorgon," Sienna said.
"That would be the gorgon that you tricked me into killing?"
"That's the one."
"He was apparently quite fond of it." Gregory examined the knots on his oaken walking staff.
"Abraxas put the gorgon in the caves to prey on the fishing schooners?" Shada stalked the circumference of the small room, putting the pieces together. St. Navarre existed in a wary state of truce with Abraxas' mountain city-state. A year ago the mercurial wizard had destroyed the free city of D'Elavere, a legion of his sorcerous shadow soldiers slaughtering its population in retaliation for its growing power and independence. It could be argued that St. Navarre had recently reached a position of power similar to D'Elavere's a year ago. "That's why we wouldn't acknowledge that it was real?"
Gregory nodded. "It seemed wise not to cause a panic."
"It was near to spawning," Sienna said. "If it did, we'd lose half our food supply."
"Yet your father couldn't overtly move against it for fear of starting a war with Abraxas," Gregory said. "No Scarlet Guard."
Shada paled. Her father had been forced to walk a dangerous line in placating the sorcerer while defending St. Navarre's interests. Abraxas had finally decided to put the King's balance to the test. "But the King's daughter, all-knowing Abraxas will never see through that? Good plan."
"It is well known that the King's fair-haired daughter is constitutionally unable to do what she is told." Gregory raised one white eyebrow.
"Abraxas wouldn't have had any the faintest idea it was you if you hadn't bounced his monster's head down Kings' Hall." Sienna sighed. "You hate the Court. I had no idea you'd go showing off."
"I showed the gorgon's head in the Hall so the Schoonermen would know it was dead. We need them fishing." Shada felt her face flush. Everyone knew a whisper in Kings Hall traveled faster to every corner of the city than a Herald's proclamation. "Why didn't you just ask me?"
"The good news is that your sister's stratagem mostly worked." Gregory stroked his elaborate silver mustache. "Abraxas' vengeance is not aimed at the Crown, or the city at large."
"I'm so relieved." Shada looked back to her sky portrait. She claimed to fear nothing, but that was, of course, untrue. Sorcery, with its ability to undo her hard-won combat skills, terrified her. She felt the fear as a band pulling tight about her chest, a metallic taste down the back of her throat.
"The Citadel walls are impenetrable to magic," Sienna said. "You'll wait it out."
Shada knew, they all knew, that anyone Abraxas painted in the sky died during the night that followed. The Pontifex Verisdane had been devoured by church mice, the Seeress Anataillia diced into one hundred and seventeen tiny cubes by her enchanted shears, and the Heirocloyant War Chieftain Tartarus suffocated in an enormous noose of flesh comprised of the muscle tissue of his top lieutenants.
"Return to your rooms," Gregory said. "You're protected within the Citadel walls. The College of Mages is working on protective measures. The night will pass. Everything will be fine."
* * * *
In fifteen minutes Shada had washed the blood from her face and hands, changed into a fresh set of leathers, and rearmed. Swords, knives, and staves lined the bare walls of her sitting room. From these she selected a short sword. Daggers slipped into the tops of her boots. The amethyst bracelets she snapped to her wrists would provide some measure of protection against sorcery. As, she hoped, would her birth. Those born within the protective walls of the Citadel supposedly had potent natural resistances to magic.
From the window Shada kept an eye on her glittering face in the sky. As the night progressed ribbons of flesh peeled back, revealing glistening white bone. She knew what was coming. She'd seen the sky portraits of Verisdane, Anataillia, and Tartarus. Eventually the skin, hair, and eyes would be fully stripped away, leaving nothing but a grinning lunar death's head.
Shada felt hungry and nauseous. She half-wanted to lie down and fall asleep and let whatever awful thing was going to happen to her just happen. She certainly wasn't going to sit around waiting to discover what ghastly fate the sorcerer had in store for her. She was going to hunt him down and kill him first.
A bright light flared just inside her door. The illumination faded, revealing a teenage boy dressed in sapphir
e cloaks too large for his slight frame. Longish brown hair and a scruffy beard failed to disguise his youth.
"Shada." The boy nearly tripped over his trailing cloaks. "I came as soon as I got your message."
Michal, her old friend. Shada watched him carefully. She hadn't spoken to him in the months since he'd joined the Citadel's College of Mages. Magic was a black bag of dirty tricks used by those unable or unwilling to fight fairly, and Shada despised its practitioners on principle, but tonight she'd figured she had nothing to lose by sending a messenger.
He nodded to the window. "You look really beautiful up there."
"I won't for long unless you can help me find Abraxas." She eyed the too-long cloaks. "What are you wearing?"
"He has to be nearby. My new shadowmancer cowl. It's an honor, within the College." Michal gathered the cloaks tight around his waist, as if looking for something to do with his hands. "Don't worry; I don't expect you to be impressed."
"It's lovely. Why does he have to be nearby?"
"We've detected a nemesis conjuring. It's the only way Abraxas can hurt you through the Citadel walls." Though slight of frame, Michal was a natural fighter. He'd been one of Shada's few confidants, training with her on the proving grounds, until he'd betrayed her by joining the College. "He can't move magical energy through our walls. A nemesis doesn't require that energy. It draws its power from the victim's negative emotions."
"Negative emotions?"
"Fear, anger."
"My heart is full of all love for mankind, so I've nothing to worry about." Shada wasn't concerned about fear, which she rigidly controlled, but she imagined her anger might bury her a hundred times over.
"I know how you feel about my vocation," Michal said. "But tonight you need to take me seriously. Abraxas is crazed with fury. Two of our adepts passed out just casting the runes."
"Just because of the stupid gorgon?"
"Abraxas' mind's been twisted by centuries of sorcery. He apparently considered the gorgon his, uh, closest companion."
"Ick, sorcerers. I probably don't want to know." Shada touched the hilt of her sword and found that her hand was trembling. She ran a mental inventory of possible burrows within a half-mile of the Citadel. "How far away can he be for the spell to work?"
"You can't leave the protection of the Citadel. Abraxas is incredibly powerful. He can shape-change, possess, transmute himself into virtually any form. Only the Citadel walls restrict him to using a nemesis." Michal put a tentative hand on her shoulder. "I'll do everything I can to protect you."
Shada shrugged him off. No way was she going to let Michal get himself killed on her behalf.
Michal colored and turned away.
"How does the nemesis work?" After ignoring him for months Shada didn't like hurting Michal's feelings, but imagined she'd enjoy causing his death even less.
Michal spoke to his shoes. "It amplifies your strongest negative emotions, causing—"
The bolts on the door drew back with a sharp, metallic crack.
"Hide," Shada whispered. "Go 'poof' or something."
Michal made a complex gesture with both hands and vanished just as Sienna strode into the room. Outside the door, Cavalier Escroat took up a bodyguard's position.
"College adepts are casting protections," Sienna said. "How are you doing?
"Peachy." Shada's heartbeat double-timed at the fear in her sister's voice. "Want to watch the skin slowly peel off my face?"
Sienna's stare settled on Shada's weapon–studded outfit. "Whatever you're planning, don't. You can't fight this thing."
In her heart, Shada knew this was true. If the Heirocloyant Tartarus wasn't able to fight Abraxas, she hadn't a prayer. For precisely this reason, her sister's words were a deathblow, extinguishing her last illusions. Shada felt herself deflate, adrenaline draining from her limbs. "I hate you," she whispered.
A red haze seemed to settle over the room. The fine hair along Shada's arms rose, her skin tingling as if in the presence of lightning.
Sienna turned and stalked toward the door.
Shada sighed. She knew that Sienna, in her condescending way, was trying to help. She was about to apologize, but found herself unable to do so. Why should she apologize? This mess was Sienna's fault.
"If you hate me so much, why don't you kill me, Shada? You've such skill with a blade." Sienna plucked a dagger and a sword from the wall. "You're daughter to the King, and yet you're a joke. Do you have any idea what the courtiers say of you? It's a tragedy you're so breathtakingly stupid. Just a touch of subtlety and you might be of some use."
"Still your tongue." Shada felt so angry she couldn't breathe. She drew her sword. "Or lose it."
"You can't begin to understand the mortification I face every day." Scarlet light shone in Sienna's eyes, as if she was staring into a fire. "Did you know that visiting dignitaries sometimes confuse us? Address me as you? Unbelievable. You're ignorant and careless. Your answer to everything is a punch in the face."
Shada's breath quickened. Behind Sienna, the door clanged shut. The red haze thickened. Things that a moment ago seemed very complicated were suddenly simple. So many of her problems would disappear if Sienna stopped breathing.
Clearly Sienna wanted her dead. She was jealous of Shada's skill and beauty and independence. She'd sent Shada to die in the tentacles of the water gorgon, but when she'd survived that, Sienna had decided to finish the job herself.
"Do you know how someone like myself, with only the most rudimentary combat skills, can make years of weapon and martial arts training absolutely useless?" Sienna pivoted and threw the dagger.
Shada was too shocked to deflect it. The blade sank into her side. A burning below her ribs blossomed into a searing pain along her flank. She gasped and pulled the weapon free, her hip and fingers sticky with scarlet blood.
Sienna stalked toward her, sword raised. "Strike first."
Shada tried to lift her own weapon, but moving her arm ignited blinding surges of pain. She stumbled backward.
"You can't stand me being so much smarter than you." Sienna spat the words. "Father prefers me. Everyone at Court prefers me. All this training and fighting. As if you're ever going to be anything more than marriage bait."
Raising her sword arm brought tears to Shada's eyes. The weapon was useless to her. She couldn't reach the daggers without giving her sister a fatal opening. Sienna's martial training was limited to basic assassination techniques; in any fair contest, armed or barehanded, Shada would mop the floor with her. But Shada couldn't stop her sister's blade without a weapon of her own.
Sienna chopped at Shada's neck.
Shada let go her sword and dropped to the floor. As her hands took her weight her side burned as if a knife had been reinserted in the wound. She bit her tongue and kicked straight out, catching her sister's ankle.
Sienna fell, the sword clattering from her grasp.
Shada threw herself on top of her. She pushed past the astonishing pain in her side and wrapped her hands tight around Sienna's neck. She drove both thumbs into her throat.
Shada, no!
Michal's voice in her head. A mage's trick.
It's the spell. You're both caught in the nemesis.
Shada pushed down harder, trying to crush Sienna's windpipe. She was going to win.
Sienna's right leg whipped over Shada's head, her foot hooking her below the chin and peeling her backwards. Sienna rolled away, toward her sword.
This is Abraxas' revenge. The sorcery will keep growing in strength until one of you kills the other.
Shada climbed to her feet and pulled the daggers from her boots. It made sense. And she believed him.
But she didn't care. She could feel her fury feeding the sorcery but was helpless to stop it. This was exactly what needed to be done.
The room is magically sealed. I'm outside the door with Escroat, Gregory, and the mages, but we can't penetrate the spell as long as you keep powering it. Shada, the nemesis is using your ange
r to kill you. The only escape is to let go of it.
As if that were something that could be done by simply deciding to do so. Shada could no more let go her anger at Sienna than let go a limb. She was certain she would be free of it as soon as she separated her sister's head from her body.
Shada crossed her knives to catch Sienna's inelegant thrust. Her sister used her momentum to slam Shada halfway out the open window. Shada's side ached as she pushed back with her knives. Cool night air surrounded her. The Citadel courtyards lay far below.
Shada brought her knee up fast, into Sienna's gut. Her sister gasped and broke off the attack.
In the silver light thrown by her decaying face in the clouds, Shada saw shapes moving in the courtyard. Eerie figures that seemed made of smoke, slowly gaining definition.
Abraxas' shadow soldiers.
Shada's mind raced. She forced herself to ignore the angry clamor in her head and think. The sorcerer couldn't conjure his troops from outside the Citadel walls. Which meant that he was already within them. He was going to slaughter the Citadel's inhabitants the same way he'd destroyed those of D'Elavere.
Why, then, was he bothering with the nemesis?
Because his vengeance was aimed at the Crown. Shada's increasingly ghoulish face in the sky was merely misdirection. The College of Mages was oblivious to Abraxas' gathering army because they were pre-occupied with the sorcerer's public threat against Shada.
Fear cleansed the raging sorcery from her mind. Every man, woman, and child in St. Navarre was in terrible danger. Her battle with Sienna was worse than meaningless. It was a purposeful distraction. It had to end. But the nemesis could only end with one of them dead on the floor.
Shada felt a moment's hesitation, a mixture of sadness, resentment, and pride that fought against her sudden clarity. But she understood what had to be done.
As Sienna circled in for the kill, Shada dropped her daggers to the floor.
St. Navarre's best chance for survival lay in Sienna. Shada's skills were useless against sorcery. She'd proven that tonight. To have any chance of survival, her father would need Sienna's subtle counsel.
Shada closed her eyes and awaited the killing blow.