None of the others seemed to share Bryte’s sense of urgency. Dishes were placed in the sink to be washed later, the remaining food was put away, and only then did the Widow Kipley summon a horse-drawn cab to take them to the flats.
Bryte waited impatiently by the door for the sound of the horse’s hooves clopping toward them. The others remained in the kitchen, probably discussing this mission, but for once Bryte made no attempt to listen. She didn’t care what they planned. She only wanted to reach Master Onigon, see Oryon released, and learn Stethan’s fate.
She heard the horse when it was still some distance away and traced its progress, which to her seemed all too slow, around a corner and along the street until at last it stopped in front of the boarding house, she gave a loud yell to summon the others.
Lina fished the cocoon holding Oryon out from behind the davenport, and tied the thread holding it firmly around her wrist. She could have done that earlier and been ready, Bryte thought as she ran out the door and reached the cab, only to have to wait impatiently for the others.
By the time they came and the driver put the horses into motion, Bryte was ready to snap at anyone who spoke to her. She sat glowering, keeping her eyes on the road ahead, willing it to shorten, willing the horse to move faster, willing time to speed up to take them quickly to their destination.
None of those things happened. The horse plodded along at a maddeningly slow pace, the road stretched endlessly in front of them, and time seemed to crawl.
“We won’t get there th’ faster f’r you staring at the road and tapping your feet,” the Widow Kipley said.
“Could have taken a motorized cab,” Bryte groused without shifting her gaze from the road.
“It costs a lot more, and the drivers don’t like to go to the flats,” the widow said, reasonably enough.
Bryte was in no mood to be reasonable. “Lina’s got money. And I’d think with all the power everybody’s got, somebody could’ve made a driver take us to the flats.”
“Hush, Bryte,” Kanra warned. “Don’t speak of what you know so little about.”
“The driver can’t hear us,” Bryte said, tossing her head. “Horse is making too much noise.”
“That’s because it’s going as fast as is safe,” Lina put in.
“You’re a fine one to talk about safe. You nearly got us killed the way you were driving last night.”
“But I didn’t get us killed, did I?” Lina said. “And could you have done any better?”
“I don’t know how to drive,” Bryte said.
“Neither do I,” Lina stated flatly.
“You said you hadn’t had much practice. That sounded like you’d driven some.”
Lina shrugged. “It’s pointless to argue.”
Bryte lapsed into sullen silence, and since no one else seemed disposed to talk, the remainder of the ride was passed in a brooding quiet.
They reached Master Onigon’s establishment, and Bryte jumped from the carriage and raced inside ahead of the others. Master Onigon was conferring with a client over a thick ledger. At Bryte’s entrance, he looked up with a startled expression and rose partway out of his seat.
Bryte tripped over a cat that dashed between her feet and fell headlong, bumping her head on the leg of the customer’s chair. She sat up and rubbed her head. Master Onigon was frowning, and the customer stood and bent to offer her a hand. She ignored the gesture and said to Master Onigon, “I gotta talk to you in private right away.”
“My dear, you can see that I have a customer. You can wait in my back room until we conclude our business.”
“No. This can’t wait,” she said.
The customer was glaring down at her, offended by her rudeness. She offered no apology but got to her feet, put her hands on her hips, and glared back.
At a loud hiss and snarl behind her, she looked back at the door. Lina had entered with the cocoon, and two of Master Onigon’s cats were disputing her right to be there with yowls of outrage while the white cat ran to the refuge of her master’s lap.
When the Widow Kipley stepped into the room beside Lina, Master Onigon picked up the cat and stood. “It seems, sir,” he said to his perplexed client, “that I must beg your indulgence. Please allow me to complete our transaction at a later time. I’ll review my calculations, and if you will return later this afternoon, I will have found a way to reduce the rate of your loan still further.”
This prospect mollified the customer. He let Master Onigon escort him to the door, Bryte’s companions stepping out of the way to let them pass. He cast a curious look at the cocoon bobbing about but said nothing. Master Onigon closed and locked the door once the customer was seen off with a handshake and a cheery word.
No cheer remained in his voice when he turned to his uninvited guests. “I’ll lose a good portion of the interest I would have charged on that loan,” he said, addressing Bryte. “I assume this matter is of utmost importance. You’ve put me as well as yourselves at risk by coming here, you know.”
“It is important,” Bryte began eagerly, but the Widow Kipley interrupted.
“These two,” she indicated Bryte and Lina, “have stirred up trouble enough to put the entire Community at risk.”
Master Onigon walked to the floating shroud and gazed at it as though he could see the occupant within it. “I know, Pauline, that you would use that net only in an extreme circumstance. You’d better take seats and tell me what this is about.”
More precious minutes were spent finding chairs for everyone, taking some from the back room and borrowing a bench from outside the shop. Bryte refused to sit. The shroud floated in their midst like a white cloud. Lina, the Widow Kipley, and Kanra all began to talk at once, so that Bryte, who’d launched into her tale along with the others, was forced to shout.
“Silence!” Master Onigon thundered. And when his guests ceased speaking, he said in a lower voice, “We must have order. Miss Mueller, you will tell me why you, rather than Pauline, are holding the cord to the power net, as well as who is inside it and why. Then, Bryte, you will explain the urgency of this matter, and Pauline, you will tell me how you were persuaded to leave your home to venture here.”
Bryte noticed that he did not include Kanra, who sat on the fringe of the group, looking distressed. But her own relegation to second place took precedence over any concern she felt for the priestess. “I need to tell you about my brother,” she said. “It can’t wait.”
Lina was not to be put off. “Neither can this,” she said, giving the thread a sharp tug, so that the shroud bobbed up and down like a ship on a rough sea.
With that, she proceeded to explain about Oryon and how Lord Inver had done something that changed him. While Bryte fumed, Lina told how her first rescue attempt had resulted in her own capture and the taking of her power.
“Can you restore it?” she asked.
“Possibly. But first we will hear Bryte’s story.”
About time! Bryte recounted how she’d learned of her half-brother and where he was hidden, how she’d gone to the temple only to be thwarted in her attempt to rescue the boy she’d thought was Stethan, and how she and Kanra had subdued Oryon and escaped with the boy she knew as Corey. She gave an abbreviated report of their encounter with Mr. Donner, the ride in the truck, and Oryon’s escape and abduction of Corey. She pointed at Kanra and said, “She says that Corey and Stethan were switched, and it was Corey, not Stethan that Oryon killed. If that’s so, I need to know whether he’s killed Stethan, and if not, where Stethan is. So you gotta find a safe way to let Oryon out of that net thing and make him tell us.”
“Ah, you don’t ask much, do you?” Master Onigon said. “I’ll do what I can—after I’ve heard from Pauline.”
Bryte groaned. More talk! She wanted someone to do something. She had no idea what the Widow Kipley—Pauline—might have to say, but she knew the woman to be longwinded, and her patience had run out. She’d force someone to do something.
Master Onigon was h
olding the white cat, but the others, while no longer snarling and spitting, were still baring their teeth and emitting low growls, while keeping a safe distance from Lina. Although Lina could not shapechange, the cats must sense the panther within.
Bryte fixed her gaze on the cat closest to Lina. While everyone’s attention was focused on Pauline or on Master Onigon, Bryte took a single step—onto the cat’s paw. Its loud yowl drew everyone’s gaze.
Bryte reached out, grabbed the thread that extended from Lina’s hand to the net, and yanked as hard as she could. The net unraveled. Lina grabbed her and pushed Bryte away, but she kept her grip on the thread.
The net opened. Oryon tumbled to the floor.
“Little fool!” Lina shouted and tried to throw the net over Oryon. But Bryte, still holding fast to the thread, prevented the throw.
Oryon stirred, groaned, and opened his eyes. “Set wards!” Kanra cried.
“Won’t do any good,” Lina said. “He can break wards.” She turned on Bryte and tried to wrest the thread from her.
“Don’t break that!” the Widow Kipley screeched, throwing herself at Lina and pushing her away from Bryte.
If Lina had her powers, Bryte knew that neither she nor the Widow Kipley would be any match for her. As it was, the widow and Bryte together had a hard time holding Lina off, and the thread, strained, began to fray.
“No-o-o,” the widow wailed, clawing at Lina’s arm.
“Stop!” Master Onigon’s voice thundered across the melee, freezing the three contenders and Kanra, too.
Bryte could not move, but she could see and hear. She saw Oryon sit up, look at them, and grin. And she heard Lina say, “Well, now you’ve done it!”
15 THE DIRE REALMS
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THE DIRE REALMS
What’s happened? Where am I? Where’ve I been?
Feel dizzy, weak. But I’m alive.
Lina. Should have known she’d get away from Lord Inver. And get me away from him. Wonder how she managed that. Last thing I remember, I was going into Lord Inver’s office after a call from the guards. And then—nothing. I was nowhere. Couldn’t feel anything, hear anything, do anything. Awful. No wonder I passed out.
But I’m free now. The old man’s done something to the rest of them. He’s using power—a lot of it—to keep them from moving.
I can move. I can sit up. And—yes! I still have my power. Don’t they realize that? Or that I’m still under Lord Inver’s control? I should be angry about that and about the things he’s made me do. I still can’t feel anything—not anger, not sorrow, not happiness, not even despair. I can only do my master’s bidding, terrible as that bidding is.
Oryon was gazing around the room with a puzzled expression. Why hadn’t Master Onigon frozen him? But apparently ignoring Oryon, Master Onigon carefully unfolded Bryte’s hand from around the thread, and just as carefully untied the end of the thread from Lina’s wrist and pried open Lina’s hand to loosen her hold on it. Good! He’s going to use it on Oryon.
Instead, he rolled the thread into the ball, pressed the ball into the Widow Kipley’s hand, and closed her fingers over it.
Suddenly Bryte could move. She stepped back, away from Lina. Kanra collapsed into Master Onigon’s desk chair. The Widow Kipley raised her hand and stared at the balled power net Master Onigon had put there as if she could not believe that the thing had come back to her.
Only Lina remained still as a statue.
Oryon leaped to his feet and grabbed Bryte by the throat. She fought, fighting and kicking, until she ran out of breath and everything was turning black.
Why didn’t someone do something to help her?
Oryon yelled and loosed his hold. Someone had done something. The Widow Kipley pulled Bryte away from Oryon and supported her while her breath came back.
A panther had leaped on Oryon, clawing his back, digging its teeth into his shoulder. Lina had gotten her power back. No wonder he’d yelled. He hadn’t been prepared for her attack. He staggered and fell beneath the panther’s weight. The panther crouched on his back, tearing and clawing, but not killing.
“He’s got to tell us what he did with Stethan,” Bryte panted, elbowing free of the Widow Kipley’s hold.
Master Onigon grabbed Bryte’s arm and pulled her toward him, away from Oryon and the panther. And the Widow Kipley threw the power net. It covered and swallowed up both Oryon and the panther.
“But he didn’t tell us anything!” Bryte said, struggling in Master Onigon’s grip.
“Behave yourself,” he ordered. “Your rash act nearly cost you your life. And the young man isn’t likely to tell us anything now.
“But I told you, I’ve gotta know whether Stethan’s alive or dead.”
“If he’s dead, waiting a while more to know won’t change anything,” Master Onigon said unfeelingly. “If he’s alive, we need a strategy for saving him, and we won’t get that with you indulging in these impulsive behaviors. Your impatience has cost us more time than would my listening to all the accounts so that I could proceed wisely.”
Bryte was all the angrier because she knew he was right. She had acted foolishly. I don’t care, she told herself. I won’t apologize. Nobody but me cares about Stethan.
The three cats presently in the office were sniffing the place where Lina had sat and casting suspicious looks at the shroud, once again floating on the end of its tether. The white cat gave a loud and triumphant meow.
Master Onigon addressed his pet: “Yes, she’s gone for the time being, but that wasn’t meant to happen, you see.”
Bryte knew to whom Master Onigon referred. “Why don’t you let her out?” she asked the Widow Kipley.
“Can’t, without releasing him as well, and he’d recover quicker this time. That is, assuming she hasn’t hurt him too badly.”
“Well, if she has, you can heal him,” Bryte pointed out, reaching down to pet the white cat, who had come to rub against her legs.
“Young lady,” Master Onigon intervened, “you are still delaying the progress of this discussion. If you want your half-brother rescued, I suggest you leave it to your elders to determine what action is to be taken and when.”
Bryte bristled. Master Onigon was treating her like a child. Deep down inside, she knew she was acting like one, but she stifled that knowledge. It was her brother whose life was at stake, and Lina and Oryon were her employers and friends. Well, Lina was her friend, and Oryon had been until Lord Inver had gotten hold of him. Bryte would not leave this whole matter to her “elders.” Since they seemed determined to shut her out of their decision-making, she would shut them out of hers.
Because, suddenly, an idea came to her, and she made a decision. The way was open between her and the door. Master Onigon sat in his desk chair, Kanra stood out of the way, behind Bryte, and the Widow Kipley stood between Bryte and Master Onigon, holding the tether so that the shroud floated like a white cloud in front of her.
Bryte was still idly scratching the white cat’s head. She scooped up the skittish animal and tossed it at the Widow Kipley. It let out a terrible yowl and clawed the Widow as it slid down the front of her dress. The widow let out a scream and grabbed for the cat, releasing the tether, as Bryte had hoped. Already on her feet, Bryte grabbed the tether and ran for the door, got it open and raced out into the street before the others could stop her.
The shroud bobbing beside her like a large balloon, Bryte ran past startled strollers and street vendors. One set of footsteps pounded behind her; she guessed that Kanra was chasing her. The Widow Kipley and Master Onigon would have no hope of overtaking her; Kanra was younger, more physically fit, and not encumbered with the weightless but bulky shroud. But Bryte knew the flats; Kanra did not.
Instead of taking the most direct route to her destination, Bryte swerved around corners and cut through narrow lanes between buildings, and very shortly she no longer heard the pursuing footsteps.
She doubled back and took her familiar route to the
haunted mound where for so long she had held silent discourse with her half sister. She was winded by the time she reached the mound and had to pause to catch her breath before climbing it. Passers-by gave her wide berth, and it occurred to her that the shroud bobbing beside her must seem a ghostly thing, all too sinister in this eerie place.
She heard footsteps, heavier than Kanra’s, then a triumphant, “Aha! I guessed she’d come this way.” She recognized Master Onigon’s voice.
No time to waste! She climbed the mound, and at its top she drew in the tether and pulled it in the way that unraveled the net and snapped its threads back into a tight ball in her hand.
Oryon tumbled to the ground. Lina, still in her panther form, fell on top of him and stayed there, preventing him from rising.
Huffing and puffing, Master Onigon and the Widow Kipley reached the base of the mound and stood looking up at Bryte, the widow’s face a study in horror and Master Onigon’s filled with anger.
The panther reared up and metamorphosed, and Lina stood beside Oryon, who still lay prone. She looked around her and shuddered. “What are we doing here, of all places?” she asked.
“I remembered how this mound scared Oryon. I figured it would be a safe place to let him out of the net so he could tell us about Stethan.”
“And he and I both warned you never to come here again,” Lina said. “You don’t know what this is.”
“I know what you said it was, but I never—”
The ground beneath her feet rumbled and shook. The Widow Kipley started up the mound, but Master Onigon pulled her back onto level ground. Oryon sat up, looked around wildly, and reached for Lina. She took his hand and with her other hand grabbed hold of Bryte’s arm.
BRYTE'S ASCENT (Arucadi Series Book 8) Page 15