I turned away, pacing anxiously on the other side of the fireplace in my chamber.
Cynet continued, “Things are coming together faster than I thought they would. I’ll have to accelerate my plans.”
I didn’t want to think about his plans. They included the demise of our people and the death of his father.
I tried to change the subject. “A small troop left this afternoon for Volas Pass,” I said. “Mother went to the Central Fortress. The tournament won’t be held until they both return, a week hence.”
I could hear the soft snick of the carving knife shaving strips from the wood. “The Quahtl will be waiting in the pass. The T’yathan troops won’t return.” I spun to gawk at him. He was unruffled by my shock.
“What did you do?” I whispered.
He glanced up at me, giving me a disarming smile. “Don’t worry, love. Your mother is training troops in the Central Fortress. She’ll be far away from the fighting.”
My stomach clenched. I knew that Cynet was a spy for the Quahtl and that he had told them our plans before on more than one occasion. But the pass was narrow and steep. No one would escape. Should I tell my father? No. I couldn’t betray Cynet. He was the Hand of Dera, her chosen delegate to mankind and the strongest sorcerer of her magic. I was a full-fledged servant of Dera now. I couldn’t betray her Hand. My only comfort was knowing my mother would be safe.
“You signed up for the tournament?” Cynet blew on the figure to clear the shavings.
I nodded. The carving was showing the more pronounced outline of bulging muscles, some in the wrong places, and it reminded me of the carvings I had memorized on the door of the Black School.
“And who else will compete?”
I began to pace again, moving from the hearth to the table beside my bed and back again. “There’s got to be twenty warriors signed up. Everybody’s eager to show off their skills.”
“Yes, but most of them are incompetent.”
“I wouldn’t say that—”
He stopped carving and leaned forward intently in his chair. It creaked under his weight as he shifted. His piercing blue eyes stopped me in my tracks. “Which ones are good enough to beat you?”
I stared at him, my mind racing. What was he getting at? I hesitantly replied, “Fyn. Rowen has learned some new tricks. Then there’s Weylin, and ... Bridei.”
Cynet’s thoughtful expression made me nervous. He turned to study the fire. “We have to ensure that you’re the winner,” he said slowly.
“Mother asked me to enter. She must believe I can win.”
“But you’re weak right now. It takes time to recover from receiving Dera’s mark. We’ve got to tip the scales in your favor.”
I sank into a chair opposite him, the one that I had built and carved myself. The day I finished it was the day I knew I would never be gifted with Ragnell’s magic, as Father was.
Dera’s mark on my heel itched, as though begging to be used. I could feel the ash magic thrumming in my veins. My spells would be more powerful now. I would have the might of Dera behind me. The thought gave me a thrill and left my heart pounding. I leaned forward, staring at Cynet eagerly.
“What do you have in mind?”
He fingered the carving he still held. “A d’taugh.”
The smile slipped off my face. I leaned back into the chair as a cold numbness replaced it. “An assassin? Cynet, these are my friends. I’ve trained with them for years. One of them is my own sister”
Cynet stood up, crossing the space between us in two steps. He placed a hand on either side of me, on the arms of the chair, and leaned in until we were nose to nose. I began to tremble.
“Now is not the time to be squeamish, Alswyn. I’m your family now. You have no sister. You have no father or mother. There is only me, do you understand?” I nodded. My throat was dry. “Dera has no use for cowards. You will conjure the d’taugh tomorrow night in the dungeon and do what must be done.”
CHAPTER 4
The dungeon of my father’s castle was on the lowest floor. He didn’t use it very often. He was a fair judge and didn’t like locking people up. He usually gave them work detail instead, a way to amend their crimes and prove a change of heart. I wondered if he would make an exception if he knew the truth of what I had become.
Cynet and I had worked magic here before. With its sparse population, it was a good place to hide forbidden deeds.
Tonight, we settled down in one of the empty cells at the far end. One wall was partially collapsed, and the cell was half filled with a pile of dirt. The floor was cold under the thin fabric of my slippers. I wore the red velvet gown I’d put on for dinner. The bodice was uncomfortably tight, the skirts more narrow than most of my gowns. If I needed to fight, I’d have to hike them up to get a decent range of movement.
I squatted on the floor and pulled a packet from the folds of my cloak. Father thought Cynet and I had gone for a walk in the courtyard. He didn’t question our motives, as Mother sometimes did.
I unrolled the leather. Several dozen pieces of wood were secured tightly inside. I had spent the first two months of my apprenticeship gathering this collection and hiding it under the frame of my bed. Now, I untied a piece of willow the size of my forefinger and rolled the packet back up. I looked at Cynet uncertainly. He stood at the door of the cell, leaning casually against the rock wall with his arms crossed over his chest. A muscle jumped in his jaw.
“You know what to do, Alswyn. Just do it.”
I took a deep breath and placed the willow in the center of the cell. The spell to bring fire had never come so easily. Rapture went through me as I released the magic. I gasped and threw back my head. Dera’s magic was so powerful! Why had I waited so long to accept it from her?
I felt Cynet’s hands on my shoulders. “Very good!” he whispered in my ear. “I said you would be powerful.”
I opened my eyes to see a raging inferno in the center of the cell. The fire was far bigger than the small piece of willow could have naturally caused. My training made me impervious to heat. It washed over me, and I threw out my arms and welcomed it.
“Now,” said Cynet. “Douse the flames.”
I dropped my arms, quelling the fire with a thought. A pile of ashes remained where the wood had been, still glowing and giving off vast quantities of smoke. I breathed deeply, taking in the scent and using my magic to summon the d’taugh. Would the creature answer?
Cynet saw it before I did. He started to chuckle, a low throaty sound. “Yes.” He patted my shoulders. “Very good, Alswyn. Very good, indeed.”
The smoke began to take on a shape. It seemed as though the ashes were flowing up into the smoke itself, solidifying it into a creature more firm and visible. It was grotesquely misshapen, like a man twisted with the horns of a ram and the body of a boar. It was smaller than a real man. And it carried shadowy weapons.
“It needs directions,” Cynet prompted.
I hesitated. Was I really about to send an assassin to kill men and women that I had fought beside, my friends? Could I really give the order that would kill my own sister?
Cynet’s fingers tightened on my shoulders until the grip became painful. If I hesitated much longer, I would face his wrath. I had no choice but to follow through with this.
“D’taugh,” I addressed the shadowy form, “I charge you destroy my enemies this night by the power of Dera. Fyn. Rowen. Weylin.” My mouth was dry. I tried to speak Bridei’s name, but it caught in my throat.
“There is another.” Cynet’s voice was harsh, demanding. It no longer held the admiring tone he had used before.
I tried again to speak Bridei’s name, but I just couldn’t. Memories flashed through my mind of my sister sparring with me on the training grounds, running through the halls of the castle, gathering lilac flowers on the slopes of the hills, getting into a snowball fight, and being reprimanded for stealing sweets from the kitchen. I couldn’t send an assassin to destroy Bridei.
Cynet grow
led, a low sound in the base of his throat. He threw me harshly to the side. I careened into the rock wall of the cell and crumpled at the base of it.
Raising one hand like a claw toward the d’taugh, Cynet said, “I am your master now. You will destroy Fyn, Rowen, Weylin, and Bridei before the sun crests the mountain tops. Now go!”
The d’taugh nodded, its shadowy horns dipping down, and it began to dissipate. The smoke spread out along the floor, wafting out the door. It was done. The creature would seek out each of those in turn that we had named and kill them. I would have a clear path to becoming the King’s Champion. I wasn’t sure I wanted that anymore.
Cynet didn’t turn to look at me, but I could hear the venom in his tone. “Go to your room and wait for me there. I will deal with you later.”
I grabbed my wood packet and fled the dungeon.
The halls of the castle were deserted by now. Shadows danced on the walls, thrown by the flickering flame of torches placed periodically in sconces on the walls. I kept glancing back over my shoulder. Was Cynet displeased enough to send the d’taugh after me? In its smoke form, it could slip under doors, kill someone silently in their sleep, and no one would know until morning. I thought I could sense its presence and feel it tugging me down as though I were falling into the depths of a dark lake. I was drowning, and I didn’t know how I could ever resurface and breathe the air again.
I was surprised when I looked up and realized that I stood in front of Bridei’s door, rather than my own. I turned hesitantly away. Cynet had ordered me to wait for him in my chambers. What would he do if I wasn’t there when he arrived?
A whisper of a feeling caught my attention. It came from the other end of the hall. I whirled around to see tendrils of smoke creeping along the floor, coming toward Bridei’s door. I didn’t think. I simply acted.
“Bridei!” I banged on the door with a fist. “Bridei, wake up! You’re in danger!”
My emotions were a flood that overwhelmed me. I couldn’t let Bridei die. No matter what Cynet said, she was still my sister. Nothing could erase that, not even the atrocities of Dera. I wouldn’t let Bridei die. Not this way.
Several agonizing moments passed before I heard the bolt slide back from the door and I stopped pounding on it. The d’taugh was almost on top of us.
Bridei opened the door and blinked at me sleepily. Her braids were a tangled mess, her eyes red. “What’s going on, Alswyn?”
I pushed past her into the room, slamming the door closed and throwing the bolt back into place. It wouldn’t do any good, but it made me feel better. “I couldn’t sleep,” I lied. “I was wandering the halls when I saw it. It was headed for your room.”
“What did you see?”
I pushed Bridei back toward the weapons hanging over her mantle. A low fire burned there, and I still had my collection of wood chips, but if I worked ash magic to banish the d’taugh, Bridei would witness it, and she would know what I had become.
Instead, I grabbed the staff propped on its hooks above the mantle. “It’s a d’taugh!”
Bridei’s expression sharpened, her eyes snapping wide. She threw off her robe to reveal a short sleeping tunic and yanked the broadsword from its place on the wall. I didn’t know how these weapons would fare against the d’taugh. All of the quarter staffs were imbued with Ragnell’s wood magic, thanks to my father, but the sword was an ordinary hunk of metal, little use against smoke.
We stood side by side and faced the door as tendrils of grey began to creep under the frame and enter the room. D’taugh preferred to attack unawares, but it wouldn’t back down from a fight. Especially when it had the upper hand.
“This means there’s an ash sorcerer in the castle,” Bridei said. Her expression was tight, her words clipped.
I swallowed hard. Actually, there were two.
Her sword swayed, held loose and ready to move in any direction as the d’taugh began to take shape in front of us. “Father will have to send for a challenger.”
Her words sent a chill through me, but I didn’t have much time to be afraid of a challenger. Even though the mark on my heel burned, I resolutely held my ground. I would cope with Dera’s wrath later. For now, I pushed back my emotions and locked them away, as Mother had taught me. I was left with a clinical serenity that would allow me to guide my warrior’s instincts to command the situation.
I gripped the quarter staff in slick, sweaty fingers. The grooves of the carvings pressed into my skin. I couldn’t use Dera’s magic, but I could rely upon my father’s strength in the staff I held.
The d’taugh stepped forward, gliding across the ground. It raised a jagged weapon. Smoke steamed off its limbs, drifting to the side.
“It’s trying to surround us!” I said.
I swung the staff at one of the wisps. From the corner of my eye, I saw Bridei do the same with her sword. The smoke drifted back from my staff, repelled by the wood, but Bridei’s sword sliced right through it. I stepped to the side, swinging the staff at the smoke near her.
“The d’taugh!” Bridei yelled.
The creature had reached us. It raised its weapon and brought it down. Bridei caught it on the edge of her sword.
I felt something wrapping itself around my right leg. I looked down to see my ankle encased in smoke. I swung my staff at it. I felt a small stab of pain as the staff touched the smoke, not in my leg but in my middle. It seemed I was connected with the d’taugh and could feel its pain.
More tendrils of smoke were surrounding us. “I can’t keep up with them!” I stumbled over constricting skirts and envied Bridei her short tunic.
“Back to back!” Bridei commanded as she parried another of the creature’s thrusts.
I jumped into position, facing the opposite direction as Bridei. The smoke was everywhere now. It stung my eyes and crept into my nostrils. I no longer found the scent alluring.
I swung my staff at it, and Bridei matched swords with the creature itself. Each time I connected the staff with smoke, I felt a stab of pain and became weaker. Was my fate tied to the creature? If we managed to kill it, would I die too?
Bridei grunted as she barely managed to block another hit. The d’taugh was driving her back, step by step. It was only a matter of time before we collapsed under the onslaught.
Bridei gasped as the d’taugh got past her defenses and scored a hit on her shoulder. The spot turned black.
“Bridei!” I felt her sag against me.
“I’m ... okay.”
She didn’t sound okay. I had to do something to stop this. I paused long enough to pull the leather packet from my cloak. Poplar would banish the creature. Could I throw it on the fire without Bridei seeing?
Bridei suddenly barked a short, dry laugh.
“What’s the matter?” I demanded, my heart in my throat.
“Wind. I’m such an idiot!”
“What?”
She turned, shoving her sword in my free hand and yanking the staff away from me.
“Bridei, what are you doing?”
She didn’t answer. Instead, she began to spin the staff with both hands. It moved faster and faster, becoming a blur. It was like a fan, pushing the smoke away from us. A hum rose from the quarter staff. Ragnell’s magic filled the room. The d’taugh hesitated. It seemed confused. But that wouldn’t last for long.
I moved away from Bridei, giving her space to work. But I also had another task in mind. While her back was turned, I ducked toward the fire. I slipped a piece of poplar from my packet and tossed it into the coals. Mentally pushing magic at the fire, I commanded the wood to become ash and grabbed a handful. I wasn’t sure what type of wood Bridei had been burning in her fire, but hoped it would mingle well with the poplar.
Before Bridei could see, I spun around and tossed the ash at the d’taugh. The creature immediately cringed back, turning to stare at me with its faceless head. Then a wail rose inside my skull. I clapped my hands to my ears, but it didn’t help. My knees buckled.
�
��It’s working!” Bridei said.
I tried to shake off the noise echoing inside my skull. I blinked rapidly. It helped that the smoke was clearing. The d’taugh shrank, feet crumbling into a pile of ash on the floor. Bridei looked over her shoulder at me and gasped.
“Alswyn!”
Her face hardened into rock, and she swept the staff out of its spinning motion into a direct jab at the d’taugh. I doubled over as if she’d landed a punch in my gut. The d’taugh disappeared.
Bridei scrambled to my side. “Alswyn! Are you okay?”
I nodded. The pain was fading quickly. She helped me stand and brushed soot from my dress.
“That thing was pushing you into the fire?” She shook her head. “A sword is next to useless against a d’taugh.”
I realized I’d dropped the sword when I made a dash for the hearth. I gave her a crooked smile. “I was doing just fine with the quarterstaff until somebody grabbed it right out of my hands.”
She snorted. “A child would have done better. You needed a little demonstration on how to properly use the thing.”
I yanked the staff from her and spun it to rap her lightly on the head with the tip. “Now who needs a lesson?”
“Why, you little—”
I danced away from her grip, laughing. It felt good to laugh. The last time we’d bantered like this was before my engagement. It seemed the world had grown dark since then, and I’d only just noticed.
Bridei swept her sword off the floor and came after me with the flat side aimed at my butt. I scampered around her bed, yanking up my skirts, then leapt on top and jumped over as she followed me.
The clang of the warning bell stopped us both in our tracks. The blood drained from my face, leaving me cold and shivering. I looked at Bridei and saw the dread I felt mirrored in her eyes. But she didn’t know what I knew. The trap at Volas Pass was sprung. Our troops were doomed.
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