The High Priest and the Idol

by Jane Fletcher

  Tevi jumped from her crouch and scrambled around the balcony. She squeezed past the fatter idols, heedless both of the shouts from below and the arrow that clattered into the wall behind her. The first sentinels were reaching the balcony. Two more were getting ready to follow. Tevi ignored them. The dark archway was now directly opposite where she stood. Two idols faced it, one on either side of her. Tevi stared at them. Which one contained the emanator?

  On her right was the figure of something, half goat, half lizard, with a head encased in a sunburst. On her left was the statue of a six-armed man, naked except for a medallion hanging around his neck. Tevi shuttled between the two, hoping for some clue. Another arrow zipped passed her ear, hitting the man’s medallion, drawing Tevi’s gaze. Engraved on the disc was a crescent moon stamped with an eye. Tevi had seen the symbol before on a medallion worn by Botha, the Nolian priest.

  Of course—Nolius, god of magic. That would have appealed to Ciamon’s sense of what was fitting. On the hillside above Villenes, he had said that Nolius was playing an important role in his plans. Where else would Ciamon have put the emanator? Tevi tapped the statue. It resonated like a copper bell, metal and hollow, but also heavy. Would she have the strength to move it?

  “Stop right there.” The shout came from behind her.

  Tevi glanced over her shoulder. More sentinels were on the balcony. This would be her last throw of the dice. The gap was just wide enough for Tevi to squeeze behind the idol. She braced her shoulders on the wall and pushed, but Nolius would not budge.

  “There’s no point hiding. We know where you are.” The sentinel’s voice was nearer.

  Tevi scrambled up, a foot on the statue’s calf, the other on his rump, and then onto his shoulders. Tevi’s head was now pressed against the rafters of the roof. From her high viewpoint she saw there were six sentinels on the balcony. Five were coming towards her. The last was an archer, standing in front of the archway opposite, arrow on bowstring.

  Tevi placed her feet on Nolius’s shoulders and shoved with all her potion-enhanced strength, throwing the muscles of her legs and torso into the effort. Slowly the statue tilted forward. Tevi let up for a moment. The statue rocked back, and then Tevi pushed again, building on the momentum. For a heartbeat, the idol teetered in a precarious balance and then Nolius toppled, crashing through the weak wooden railing and over the edge of the balcony. Tevi almost followed, but she managed to fling her arm around the neck of the other idol and stop herself falling. Surprised shouts of warning and yelps of fear came from below.

  The nearest sentinel was only a few steps away, sword drawn, but he was no longer looking at her. His attention was on the floor of the basilica and the damage the fallen idol had caused.

  “Whatever you were aiming at, you missed,” Sefriall shouted defiantly.

  “Really? I was aiming at the ground.” But had she succeeded? Had she destroyed the emanator?

  Arrow! Duck! A familiar voice shouted in her head. Tevi obeyed on instinct, her reactions trained by years of experience. Only when she saw the arrow hit the wall did she recognise what she had heard. The voice of her prescience, her one weak sense in the upper dimensions. The voice that plucked warnings from the second dimension of time. The morphology had gone and magic had returned.

  Even as the thought went through Tevi’s head, she was aware of a growing disturbance below. Screams, shouts, and frantic motion. The light in the basilica increased, blazingly, blindingly.

  The sword-wielding sentinel stopped, frozen in his tracks. He had his hand up, shielding his eyes, trying to see what was happening on the ground. Now he turned back to Tevi, hefting his sword. “What sort of trick—”

  “No trick.”

  “What is it?”

  “You can’t guess?” Tevi grinned. “That, my friend, is one of the Coven’s best sorcerers, in full possession of all her ability to work magic. And given what’s been happening, I’d guess that she’s more than a little pissed off at you and your mates. If I was you, I’d run.”

  A fireball shot into the air and exploded, showering sparks. The screams from below intensified. The sentinel threw away his sword and fled, leaping off the balcony without bothering about the rope. Tevi collected his discarded weapon, then moved to a secure section of railing and looked down.

  In the middle of the basilica stood a figure that looked mostly like Jemeryl, except it was ten feet tall and encased in white fire. The only other people visible were a couple of sentinels who could not leave the building quickly enough. They either had not noticed the absence of bodies so far or were not trusting that events would continue this way, but Tevi could have told them that Jemeryl would only kill as a last resort. Currently, her light show was inducing all the terror she needed to disperse her opponents.

  A few seconds more and the last couple of sentinels were gone. Jemeryl sent a final fireball after them and then shrank back to her normal size and appearance.

  She looked up. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes. How about you?”

  “I got an arrow in my leg.” Jemeryl sounded furious. “It damn well hurts.”

  “I know. They do.” Tevi swung over the balcony railing, hung briefly, then dropped and rolled. She reached Jemeryl, who sank into her arms. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “I am now. But Sefriall was…” Jemeryl shuddered convulsively. “She’s nasty.”

  “She is.”

  Jemeryl pulled back and looked into Tevi’s face. “You told her to go ahead and kill me.”

  “I knew she was bluffing.”

  “You hoped.”

  Tevi held Jemeryl tightly, remembering the dread she had felt. “True. Quite desperately. But I knew the only way to save us both was to destroy the emanator.”

  “And you succeeded.”

  “It was close.”

  Jemeryl pulled Tevi down into a long slow kiss and then looked into her eyes. “So now do we find Larric and Ashkinet and get out of town?”

  “Sounds like a good plan to me.”

  Chapter Fifteen—Legacy of Evil

  The horse trough used as a battering ram during the riot had been put back in place and refilled. Tevi collected water from it, using her helmet as a bowl. All around, birdsong greeted the dawn that was breaking blood-red on the horizon. The only other sound was shouting, coming from the sentinels’ barracks. News was clearly spreading, but nobody was approaching Tevi, either in challenge or solidarity.

  Jemeryl was waiting back in the basilica. Tevi knelt beside her and started to rinse the blood from her wound but stopped, hearing a sharp intake of breath.

  “Sorry. Did I hurt you?” Tevi had been careful to avoid touching the arrow.

  “No. It wasn’t you. The water was colder than I expected. Silly of me.”

  “You’re sure?”

  Jemeryl nodded.

  Once most of the blood was gone, Tevi examined the damage. The arrow lodged in Jemeryl’s thigh was clear of bone, ligaments, or major arteries, but the edge of the wound was torn and gaping in a way Tevi would not have expected for a simple arrow puncture. It confirmed her suspicions about what Sefriall had done to make Jemeryl scream. Tevi clenched her jaw, fighting to get her anger under control. She would need steady hands. Revenge could wait.

  “Right. I’m going to take the arrow out. Try not to move.”

  “I’ll be fine. I’ve got it under control and can’t feel a thing.”

  “Whether it hurts or not, it’s only natural to react. I want to pull it straight and not do any damage to the surrounding tissue.”

  “You mean, more than Sefriall has already done?”

  The anger again kicked at Tevi’s gut. She met Jemeryl’s eyes. “I’m going to kill her.”

  “No, you’re not.” Jemeryl’s answer was immediate. “It doesn’t matter. We’ve ruined her game of taking over the world. That’s enough of a payback for me.”

  Tevi took a deep breath, trying to calm her emotions. The arguments over what
to do about Sefriall could also wait. Tevi carefully grasped the arrow shaft and pulled. Jemeryl flinched but showed no other reaction. Fresh blood began flowing as soon as the arrow came free, but stopped, even before Tevi could press her hand over the wound to stanch it.

  “I can control the bleeding.” Jemeryl’s voice was tight but not pained.

  “Can you wiggle your toes? Nerve damage can be—”

  Jemeryl’s toes duly wiggled. “I’ll be fine. It wouldn’t hurt to have a trained healer look at it, though. Medicinal magic was always my weak spot.”

  “We’re right by the infirmary. I’ll carry you.”

  Jemeryl gave a soft laugh. “No need to rush. I’m not quite that incompetent. We’ll find Larric and Ashkinet. They might need some attention too. Sefriall can be—” Jemeryl broke off. “We can all see Zorathe together.”

  Tevi hesitated, wanting to argue, but Jemeryl was the best judge of her injury. Even so, Tevi cut a strip off the red cloak she had been wearing and tied it around Jemeryl’s thigh, ignoring her protest. “Humour me. It can’t do any harm.”

  Jemeryl’s words died in an affectionate smile that made Tevi’s chest constrict.

  Wounds never hurt in the rush of battle. Not until the pace slowed afterwards would they burn. Blood was merely red liquid when the sword struck. Only in the cold aftermath did it gain the ability to turn Tevi’s stomach. Tevi had been desperate when Jemeryl had fallen and screamed, but the urgent need to act had kept her focused. Now Tevi had time to think, and remember.

  How could she forget that Sefriall had deliberately caused Jemeryl pain? Had threatened her life? Tevi put her hand on her lover’s leg, feeling the warm pliant texture of skin. This touch was necessary for Tevi’s existence. Words were inadequate to express how very precious Jemeryl was to her. Tevi wrapped Jemeryl in a hug and buried her face in Jemeryl’s neck, smelling the familiar body scent. Tears burned Tevi’s eyes at the thought of ever losing her.

  Jemeryl rubbed the back of Tevi’s head. “Honest. I’m all right.” Her tone was soft with reassurance.

  Tevi nodded, shoving away the fears. “Shall we go?”

  They paused at the doorway of the basilica. The tumult of birdsong was still in full spate over the rooftops of Kradja. A last few stars still glinted but the sky had lightened to pale blue. In the streets bordering the temple, townsfolk were emerging from their houses. Fear and caution were the norm in Kradja, making it hard to judge whether the people were more reticent that usual. However, the absence of sentinels was conspicuous. How would events go once the news spread of the return of magic? Sefriall’s plans for holy war would be curtailed. Would she still be able to keep control of the town and temple?

  Jemeryl was cautiously testing her weight on her injured leg. Tevi saw her shiver. They had both been wearing loose leggings under their tunics against the night chill, but Tevi had needed to cut Jemeryl’s off before removing the arrow.

  “Are you cold? Do you want to borrow my—” Tevi reached for her waistband as she spoke.

  Jemeryl stopped her, catching hold of her wrist. “I’m fine. The day will heat up soon enough, and walking will help. Let’s go.”

  The temple did not open for worshippers until dawn and the main hall was deserted except for a half dozen sentinels standing vigil over the idol. Now the glamour was gone, the sentry duty did not carry the same incentive and Tevi suspected volunteers would be harder to come by. Certainly, the sentinels’ body posture showed they were cold and bored. The bowed heads spoke more of tiredness than piety. At the sound of footsteps, a couple glanced up. The uniforms Tevi and Jemeryl were wearing muted any immediate reaction but the discord with their causal stroll clearly caused confusion. Sentinels were supposed to make some attempt to march.

  “What are you doing here?” The officer barked the question.

  “We’re looking for our friends,” Tevi replied.

  “What?” The officer’s voice became yet more strident. “Which battalion are you with?”

  “Oh, we’re not sentinels. We stole these uniforms.”

  “Are you a fool?”

  “Do you know, you’re the second person to ask me that today, and it’s not even breakfast time yet.”

  “I don’t know what you think you’re doing here, but you’ve made a mistake.”

  Tevi smiled. “You’re either very brave, or behind with the news. Either way, the mistake is all yours.”

  The officer turned to his subordinates. “They match the descriptions we’ve been given. Take them down to the cellar, and then find out what’s happened to the sentries on the door.”

  “You might want to think about doing that the other way around.”

  The officer had clearly had enough of talking and ignored Tevi’s advice. “Don’t just stand there. Get them.”

  Jemeryl waved her hand idly, like someone trailing her fingers through water. A stream of sparks spun away, dancing in the dim light. The mere sight was enough to stop the advancing sentinels, although they did no more than watch in bewilderment until the sparks struck them. The soldiers in the lead jerked back and yelped, as if stung by hornets. The others were still fumbling for their swords when the sparks reached them also.

  “That looks like it hurts,” Tevi observed, grinning.

  “No worse than getting an arrow in your leg.”

  Suddenly, Jemeryl moved in a faster, punching gesture. An archer on the stairs had shot at them. The arrow exploded midair, showering burning splinters of wood and feathers on the floor.

  The sentinels did not hang around to see more. Tevi watched them flee. “It might be an idea to keep one to question.”

  “Any preference?”

  “In theory, the officer should be the best informed, but who knows with the sentinels? It’s obvious nobody thought to let them in here know about what’s been happening outside.”

  “He’s still as good a pick as any.”

  Jemeryl pulled her clenched fist towards her. As if the officer had been a puppet on strings, he tripped over nothing and crashed to the ground. He was still frantically feeling his legs as Tevi reached him. His face was twisted in panic.

  “Don’t. Please. Oh, my legs.”

  Tevi crouched beside him. “We just want a few answers, and then you can go.”

  “I’m not—”

  Tevi cut through his babbling. “You may have spotted that the ability to work magic has returned. My companion is a Coven sorcerer and Sefriall has just been rather nasty to her, so she’s not in a good mood. You really don’t want to waste her time.”

  The officer’s eyes locked on Jemeryl’s black amulet and his mouth clamped shut.

  Tevi continued. “There are two other Coven sorcerers Sefriall has got prisoner. We’re here to find them. It’ll be a lot easier all round if you tell us where they are. Three elderly priests were captured at the same time. I wouldn’t mind a chat with them either.”

  “They’re…they’re…” The man’s voice was a high-pitched squeak. “I’ve not been involved with them. But…in the cellar. That’s where they were taken. But I don’t know anything about it.”

  “This cellar you know nothing about?”

  The officer nodded.

  “Would that be the same one you ordered your men to take us to?”

  “I…I…yes.”

  “So you can give me directions on how to get there?”

  He held out an arm, pointing. “Through the arch there. A corridor. The last room on the right. The stairs down are in the corner.”

  Tevi patted his cheek. “Thanks.” She stood and faced Jemeryl. “You can let him go now.”

  The officer scrambled away.

  News was definitely spreading. Shouts and banging doors echoed from all around as Tevi and Jemeryl left the great hall. When they were halfway along the corridor, a sentinel burst through a doorway ahead, still struggling to pull her shirt down over her head. Her face emerged from the cloth. The sudden expression of shock was extreme enough to be comi
cal. The half-dressed soldier skidded to a stop, turned and fled in the opposite direction. Tevi and Jemeryl followed sedately.

  The room they reached showed signs of being hastily vacated. Chairs were overturned and the rear door was ajar. Tevi led the way to the stairs.

  “I remember this,” Jemeryl said. “It’s where I was put when I was first brought to the temple.”

  “How long were you kept here?”

  “Only a few minutes. Sefriall rescued us. It’s funny, looking back. I was so pleased to see her.”

  “I wouldn’t mind seeing her as well at the moment, but it wouldn’t be funny.” Tevi could feel the anger still seething inside.

  “We’re here to get Larric and Ashkinet, not revenge.”

  “That’s if they’re still here. If they’re awake they’ll most likely have—”

  The underground room at the bottom of the stairs was too dark to see, but this was not the reason Tevi’s words had died in her mouth. The stench of blood, excrement, and death assailed her, recalling foul memories. There was only one place that smelt this way. She heard Jemeryl snap her fingers and a light sprang into existence, confirming what her nose had already told her. Tevi tasted bile, rising in her throat.

  Bloodstains splattered the flagstones of the floor. To one side stood a heavy table, scattered with implements Tevi took only the quickest peek at. Stained leather straps hung off the corners. She did not need to see more. Crude partitions at the rear divided part of the cellar into two cells. Moans were coming from the one at the right, turning to whimpers of fear as the light increased.

  “It’s all right. We’ve come to rescue you. We’re not the…” Tevi bit back the words. “We’re not the people who’ve done this.”

  The whimpering did not stop. Why should it? Charades of rescue were a common trick played by torturers. The victims needed to see her face. Maybe then they would believe their ordeal was over.