Cloak Games: Shatter Stone
Page 19
“It’s not fair,” I heard myself say. “Engines don’t work here, and Karst still has an air force.”
The harpies shrieked and dove for us, claws extended.
“Defend yourselves!” shouted Riordan, squeezing the trigger on his crossbow. He and Robert each shot a harpy, sending the creatures spiraling towards the courtyard, and then the harpies were on us.
I threw myself flat as one whooshed over me, wings flapping. The harpy skidded to a stop a few feet away, whirling to face me. The smell of rotted meat washed over me as the creatures spread its wings wide, and I cast a spell. A lightning globe slammed into the harpy’s stomach, and the creature jerked back in a twitching dance as lightning crawled up and down its limbs.
Then its head exploded into smoking ash as Hakon’s sphere of flames shot through its skull. The sphere of fire zipped past me and drilled through the chest of another harpy, exploding out its back, and then shot to the side to kill a third in midair.
Robert and Riordan fought back to back, Riordan with his Shadowmorph blade, Robert with a longsword of gleaming steel. Robert was good, very good, his sword flicking back and forth like a serpent’s tongue, and he didn’t waste a single movement. He deflected the harpies’ attacks and struck home, black blood gushing from their wounds as his blade bit into gray flesh. With his skill and boldness, it was not hard to see how he had reached a captain’s rank.
Robert was good. Riordan was just better.
He also had a better weapon. The Shadowmorph blade bit into flesh and scale and feather without slowing, and soon pieces of dead harpy lay scattered around him. I joined the fight, flinging a lightning globe at one of the harpies attacking Riordan. The creature jerked as the spell hit it, and Riordan finished off the harpy with a slash of the Shadowmorph blade. Hakon cast another spell, his burning sphere blowing another harpy skull into smoldering coals.
There were no more harpies left. The creatures lay scattered around us, either bleeding or on fire. Robert lowered his sword, breathing hard, black slime dripping from the blade. Riordan spun his dark blade, balanced on the balls of his feet, but no other enemies showed themselves.
“Good fight,” said Robert, wiping some sweat from his forehead.
“Down,” I said. “We need to go down, get out of the boundaries of that Seal.” I didn’t see any more harpies flying against the lightless sky, but that didn’t mean the Knight’s other minions weren’t coming to kill us.
“Stairs are that way,” said Riordan, jerking his chin toward a broad flight of stairs that descended to the ziggurat’s next tier. Annoyingly, that would take us closer to the Tower of Regrets, but the stairs went down the tiers in a switchback pattern, and the tiers became wider the closer they went to the ground. If we kept running, we would get away from the Tower and the Seal.
“Great,” said Robert. “Let’s…”
A flare of fire caught my eye.
My head snapped up, and I saw a pulse of yellow-orange fire in the windows of Rosalyn’s chamber in the Tower. A man in a dark suit stood there, fire crackling around his arms as he cast a spell.
A lot of fire.
“Get next to me!” I screamed. “Now!”
The men obeyed, and I began casting a spell as fast as I could, gray light flashing around my fingers. I poured all my strength and will into the spell. The man at the window stepped forward, thrusting his palm, and a sphere of flame the size of a bowling ball leaped from his fingers and hurtled towards us. I cast my own spell, and a half-dome of gray light appeared, rippling and shimmering as I concentrated with all my power to hold it in place.
It was the only thing that saved our lives.
The sphere exploding into a howling firestorm, the flames roaring past us to wash over the black stone of the terrace. The strain pushed against my mind, but I gritted my teeth and held the spell. The Knight of Grayhold had taught me this spell, a spell to resist the power of elemental forces, and I had spent a lot of time practicing with it. I had never resisted such a powerful attack before, but the practice paid off, and the flames winked out without touching us.
A wave of dizziness went through me, and I would have fallen if Riordan had not grabbed my arm. I had used a lot of magic in the last hour, and while my stamina was better than it had been, I was approaching my limits. Magical exhaustion feels a lot like dehydration, with some of the same symptoms, including unconsciousness. Here in Venomhold, that would be fatal.
“I’m fine,” I growled. “Fine! Go! Before he casts again! Move!”
Riordan nodded and released me, and we ran for the steps. I shot a glance over my shoulder as we did, and I saw the man in the suit moving towards another of Rosalyn’s windows. I wasn’t sure, but I was thought that was Nicholas up there.
Just to be on the safe side, I extended my middle finger and waved it in his direction before we reached the next tier, ran around the corner, and vanished from sight.
We sprinted down the tiers, the vast stone maze of Venomhold drawing closer with every step. Again and again, I cast the probing spell into a key clutched in my left hand, only for the spell to fall apart. We were still within the boundaries of the Seal of Shadows, and I was starting to wonder if the Knight of Venomhold could seal her demesne from rift ways. No, she couldn’t be that powerful. Else she could have just commanded the Tower of Regrets to collapse and kill us, or she could have had the ziggurat turn to quicksand and swallow us alive.
“Anything?” said Riordan.
“Not yet,” I said. “I’ll let you know the minute…”
We descended to another tier and skidded to a halt.
Anthrophages were running at us.
A lot of anthrophages.
The creatures populated my nightmares on a regular basis. They looked vaguely man-shaped, tall and thin and skeletal. Ropy muscles moved beneath their glistening gray hides, and some of them ran on two legs, but others ran on all fours. Jagged black claws jutted from their fingers and toes, and their eyes were venomous pits of yellow. Like the harpies, they did not have noses, only triangular pits in the center of their faces. Their ears were long and pointed, and a row of black spikes jutted from their spines. The stench of them, a mixture of rotting meat and sulfur, washed over me.
At least forty of the creatures rushed up the stairs towards us, claws tapping against the black stone.
“Oh, hell,” I said.
Hakon drew back his arms, shouted at the top of his lungs, and flung out his hands. Fire roared up his arms, and a sphere of flames burst from his palms and shot past us to strike the first rank of the charging anthrophages. A half-dozen the creatures died with shrill screams of pain, and a half-dozen more burst into flame, the horrible stench of burning anthrophage filling my nostrils. Riordan and Robert sprang forward, swords in hand, while Hakon began casting another spell, his face a harsh mask of concentration. I was increasingly tired, yet I dragged together more magic and started flinging lightning globes into the anthrophages. My spells stunned and burned them, giving Riordan and Robert the opportunity to cut them down, while Hakon simply made their heads explode with his howling globes of fire.
But it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough.
From my vantage point, I saw more anthrophages surging up the stairs towards us, hundreds of them. Dozens of harpies rose from the lower towers of Venomhold, making their way towards us as fast as their black wings would allow. Behind the anthrophages, I saw the glistening red forms of bloodrats, and in the distance, I glimpsed cytospawn floating behind the harpies and cowlspawn waiting behind the anthrophages.
The Knight of Venomhold’s vassals had come to kill us…and there was no way out.
We were dead without any chance of escape, and it was my fault. Why had I opened those damned letters? I had led Hakon and Robert to their deaths. I had made Alexandra a widow and her child an orphan. And Nora had been right about me. I had gotten Riordan MacCormac killed in the end.
Something started vibrating inside my coat.
Something else was happening.
Hope stabbed at me, and I yanked the Nihlus Stone from my pocket. The Elven hieroglyphs upon its surface glowed with blue-white light, and the smooth blue marble felt cool, even cold, beneath my fingers.
The Stone had reset itself.
I threw all the magic I could manage into the Nihlus Stone. Its segments whirled and slid around each other, and again I heard the clicking noise.
And once more a ring of blazing blue-white light and mist erupted from the Stone, shooting through the ziggurat and spreading around me in all directions.
I didn’t hesitate but started casting the rift way spell at once.
This time, nothing blocked it, and I drove my magic into the spell. The curtain of gray mist shimmered up before me, and sunlight stabbed into the Shadowlands as I opened the rift way. I didn’t know where the rift way would take us, but right now I didn’t care. We could either stay here and get killed, or we could take our chances on the other side of the gate.
“The rift!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, my body trembling as I fought to keep it open. “It’s open. Go! Go!”
Riordan and the others were already moving. They had seen the pulse of light from the Nihlus Stone. Robert was first through the gate, Hakon right behind him. I looked for Riordan, and he grabbed my arm and pulled me behind him as he ran for the rift way.
I looked back, trying to hold my concentration, and saw the dark tide of anthrophages and cowlspawn storm after us.
Then brilliant sunlight stabbed into my eyes, and I released my will. The rift way collapsed, and Riordan came to a stop, breathing hard. I staggered away from him, sand crunching beneath my boots, my head spinning, a salty smell stabbing into my nostrils.
I managed one more step, and then doubled over and threw up.
Or I would have, had there been anything in my stomach.
Magical exhaustion isn’t pleasant. It was just as well I hadn’t had anything except coffee today.
“Like, oh my God,” said a voice.
Two things struck me. One, the voice was that of a teenage girl, full of outrage and surprise. Two, she was speaking Spanish. Mexican Spanish, to judge from the accent.
I blinked and looked up, squinting in the sunlight.
I was kneeling on a beach, Riordan and Hakon and Robert standing nearby. The surf pounded away to my left, and to my right rose a variety of expensive-looking hotels with balconies. There were hundreds of people in swimsuits lounging or walking or drinking expensive-looking beverages. Right in front of us stood a Mexican girl about my own age, wearing a red bikini that she filled out nicely. At least, Robert and Hakon were trying not stare, while Riordan only looked grim as his hand rested on my shoulder.
“Like, you are throwing up on the beach?” said the girl in outraged tones. “While wearing a winter coat? How much did you drink last night?”
“All of it,” I rasped in Spanish. I held up the Nihlus Stone. “And I stole this stupid magic billiard ball, too.”
“Weirdo,” said the girl. “Whatever.” She looked at Riordan and Robert, licked her lips, and then walked away. Well, I say walked, but it was more like she jiggled away. I would have to remember how to do that if Riordan ever saw me in a swimsuit.
“You speak Spanish?” said Robert, in English. He sounded a little dazed.
“Yep,” I got to my feet with a little help from Riordan and didn’t fall over, which I suppose was progress. “And Chinese. Also Elven. I’m a very well-rounded woman. And I feel terrible. Anyone have any idea where we are?”
“Tijuana,” said Robert and Hakon at the same time.
They looked at each other in surprise.
“Playas de Tijuana, specifically,” said Robert. “The beach, obviously. We…used to come down here on leave before I became an officer.”
“So did I, but that was decades ago,” said Hakon.
“Not when I was a man-at-arms,” said Riordan. “Nadia. Did you get…”
“Yup,” I said with a smirk, holding up the Nihlus Stone. “One magic billiard ball, stolen from the court of the Knight of Venomhold and her pet artificer. I bet she’s all kinds of pissed.”
“Then we did it?” said Robert. “We went into Venomhold, took the Nihlus Stone…and we actually got out alive again?”
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’m afraid so,” I said.
We stared at each other for a moment.
Robert whooped and thrust his fist into the air, and both Riordan and Hakon followed suit. Both Riordan and Hakon were usually stoic to the point of somberness, and the sight of them cheering on a beach in Tijuana was so incongruous that I burst out laughing.
I couldn’t help myself. It was just so absurd. One moment we had been in the black heart of Venomhold, and the next we were standing on a beach in Tijuana, laughing our heads off in armor and winter coats while passing tourists and vacationers gave us baffled looks.
“You realize, of course,” said Hakon, once he got his breath back, “that we are stranded in a foreign country with no money.”
“Compared to getting eaten by the damn monsters of the Shadowlands, I’ll take it!” said Robert, and that set us to laughing again.
“Seriously, though,” said Hakon, wiping a tear from his eye. “It is a problem.”
“Yeah,” said Robert. “My SUV is going to get towed.”
“It might be less of a problem that you think,” I said. I opened my coat, because it was hot, and dropped the Nihlus Stone into the interior pocket. I didn’t want to lose sight of the thing. Once it was secure, I drew out the pouch I had taken from Rosalyn’s workshop.
“What on earth?” said Hakon, as astonished as I had ever heard him.
The pouch was full of cut rubies.
“Rosalyn must have used these in her work,” I said. “Maybe magical devices need gems for some reason. Anyway, she had a pouch full of these, and I figured we could put them to better use.”
“I’m not sure I approve of stealing,” said Robert.
“It’s not stealing,” I said. “It’s the spoils of war. We took these from a vassal of the Knight of Venomhold, and you two are sworn to her mortal enemy of the Knight of Grayhold. If it makes you feel better, I’m the one who stole them, and you can each consider a quarter of the proceeds….um, an honorarium.”
“An honorarium,” said Hakon, his voice dry.
“You know, your grandchildren are going to get married someday,” I said, tossing the pouch to myself, “and that’s expensive. And Robert’s about to have a baby.”
“Children are expensive,” said Riordan.
“Yeah,” I said. “You have to buy diapers and…baby hats and things.”
“You don’t have children, do you?” said Hakon. “Very well.”
“I assume you know how to turn those into cash?” said Robert.
“Like I said.” I tucked the pouch back into a coat pocket. “I’m a well-rounded woman.”
Chapter 12: Foretelling
As it turned out, getting out of Mexico and back into the United States took a bit of work.
In the old days before the Conquest, evidently it had been a lot easier to go from Mexico to the United States undetected. I once read a book that claimed that billions of dollars of illicit drugs had once flowed across the border between the two countries, a problem that the pre-Conquest Presidents of both the US and Mexico had been unable to solve. After the Conquest, the High Queen had solved the problem in her usual fashion by executing everyone involved in the production, transport, sale, and consumption of illegal drugs. (The book, of course, praised the mass slaughter as an example of the High Queen’s strong hand and firm commitment to justice.) To this day, transporting drugs across the border resulted in seventy-five lashes in a Punishment Day video, which usually caused death from blood loss
and sepsis.
So, getting across the border took a bit of work, but I managed it. We stole a car, and I Masked myself as a Knight of the Inquisition. The terrified border guards let us pass without a challenge. Once we reached Los Angeles, we ditched the car, and I Masked myself as someone else and contacted the associates of Mr. Rojo, a crime lord with whom I had done business in the past. I sold all the rubies at a very steep discount, since Mr. Rojo knew I was in a hurry to sell, but I nonetheless made a lot of money from the sale.
In fact, even after the money was split four ways, I still made a lot of money.
We bought an old van for cheap. It wasn’t in great shape, but it only had to last until Wisconsin. I used a burner phone to call a tow truck business in Milwaukee and arrange for my van and Robert’s SUV to get towed, and we drove from Los Angeles to Milwaukee. Riordan and Robert did most of the driving, which was nice. Hakon was utterly exhausted from our exertions, and the old man slept from Los Angeles to the ruins of St. Louis. I was just as tired from the amount of magic I had used, and I spent most of the trip sleeping.
But when I was awake, I brooded.
I thought about the Nihlus Stone and wondered why Morvilind wanted the thing.
I thought about Rosalyn and what Morvilind had done to her. Was that going to be my fate? I had always assumed I would get killed at some point or another, though I hoped to save Russell first. But what if I survived? What if I became a madwoman like Rosalyn, serving a dark power like Natalya Karst in hopes of vengeance?
Because I could see myself doing that in exchange for power. I had to save Russell, and I had to obtain enough power that no one could ever dominate me again. Everything else was secondary…even what I might do to myself in the process.
But as I thought about Rosalyn, I wondered if the cost might be too high.
I did keep my promise to Hakon and Robert. I composed a lengthy email on a second cheap burner phone, detailing everything we had heard about Karst and Nicholas and Baron Castomyr and the Rebels in Venomhold, and then I sent the email to the Inquisition’s anonymous address. Once that was done, I pulled out the phone’s battery, smashed it against wall until it fell apart, and threw it out the window as we drove over the Mississippi River. I doubted the Inquisition would do anything about it. Likely they knew all about Nicholas already, which was why the Rebels had taken refuge in Venomhold.