When Jina finished, the prince touched the spider on his head and asked hopefully, “Do you think you could heal the hole in my head if I remove this?” He knelt and let her examine it.
Kirin saw her horror when she discovered how deeply the spider had been spiked into Terrell’s skull. “Who did this to you?”
“That doesn’t matter,” Terrell answered patiently. “I need to know if you can heal the hole, should I take the device out.”
She gently touched his head with yellow glowing fingers, then shook her own head. “I doubt it, Prince. Working with brains is delicate, I would fear to fail.”
The prince sighed, thanked her and stood back up again. *It’s not all bad,* he sent to Kirin. *At least I can tell when the damned impostor is giving orders in my name.*
*Glad to hear that much.* Kirin’s eyes ran over the malevolent thing and a cold shiver touched his spine. He hurried to change the subject. *Was that the first time you ever killed a man?*
*Yes.* A half-smile, half-grimace flashed across Terrell’s face. *Klairveen’s monsters and the Shadow-bear on Storm Pass don’t, I believe, count. Though I didn’t exactly kill that bear, since it wasn’t alive in the first place, and I had lots of help.*
Kirin tried to think up an appropriate answer; congratulations didn’t seem quite right. His mind still groped for the right word when the world turned purple. He reeled and fell to his knees, then found Terrell had done the same. Silver trumpets of unearthly beauty played inside their heads, every note bearing mingled grief and joy.
*What was that?* he demanded of the prince, more shaken than by the assassin’s attack.
*Proof that you are my twin brother,* Terrell answered in a mental voice full of sorrow. *That was the Stone Throne summoning the Twenty for a choosing. Our mother has died, which means our father is dead too. The crown has returned. At dawn the Hierarchy will begin two days of ceremony, and a golem wearing my face stands ready to usurp my place. Which is also your place. We must cross the miles to Aretzo to stop whatever Chisaad has planned.*
Kirin’s thoughts stuttered over the terrifying events hanging before him. *You mean I have to climb the Hill of Sight too? But I’ve never been trained for this! What if I do it all wrong? What if it just kills me?*
*That is the risk our line runs. It’s the price we pay for being born to the Royal House. I grew up always knowing it. You would have too, if Osrick hadn’t tried to kill you and you weren’t lost to us for so long.* More gently he finished, *I’m sorry the hard truth gets dumped on you all at once.*
Kirin gulped. My mother’s really the Queen? Pieter, I didn’t ask for any of this. I just want you back. Aloud; “You promised me you’d free my father from the mines. You promised me!”
* * *
Terrell hesitated, struggling inside. The survival of Silbar might hinge on him being there for the Choosing. But if I start my reign by betraying this promise to my twin brother, will I even deserve to become King? This could be what that thing inside the Throne is watching for, the choice that makes me fit or unfit for the crown. Which answer will it consider right?
Then he remembered Dona Seraphina’s husband teaching him long ago. Merriten’s words rang in his memory still.
“All your choices are cumulative, my prince. Good and bad, you cannot escape even the least of them, and they will all shape you. When you choose honor and justice and keeping faith with that which is greater than all of us, you lay up the strength you will need if you are to be King. Expediency, arrogance and cowardice, those weaken you. Choose wisely.”
If I turn my back on Kirin, will I set us both on the path followed by Azerin and Zablock?
“I’ll keep that promise.” Terrell sheathed his cleaned sword. “But time is more precious than silver. Do you think you can see well enough in the dark to lead me up this stairway?”
“Hunh?” Kirin answered, baffled. “Yeah, I think so, but why? It’d be easier in daylight. Safer for you too.”
Terrell shook out the blanket and folded it. “I need to be on top of this rock before dawn.” In his mind he added, *Do you feel the node inside Skyrock?*
* * *
Kirin looked at the towering mass. *It’s a focused node, like the Hill of Sight. Not as big, not nearly, but not tiny either.*
*Which means it has prepared spells set into it,* Terrell explained. *That’s why we’ve got to get up there. We’re more than a hundred miles from Aretzo and the King Choosing will happen in two days. We have got to be there, or the Throne may choose another one of the Twenty instead—and Herrip’s hope may come about by default.* His mind shared remembered visions of the world at war and Aretzo burning.
Kirin swallowed a lump in his throat. How would his family survive that? What would happen to his tiny son in such chaos, without him there? *Dung. All right, let’s get going.*
But in his heart he wondered, what do I do if you betray me?
CHAPTER 53: TERRELL AND KIRIN
Terrell tested the crumbling step before he put his weight on it. He couldn’t see it in the dark and had to feel for the stone through the thick military boots he’d taken off the dead soldier.
*Stay to the left here,* his brother—my true brother!—told him. Terrell sent back a silent assent and groped his way forward in Kirin’s wake, his left hand on the mountainside and his mind trying to ignore the deepening gulf of air to his right.
Jina had agreed with Terrell’s decision and given it her blessing. “Your paths run together from the ruined city to the Stone Throne,” she told them. “I know not what you will do after that, but those paths narrow every day. Speed is your chief ally now. May the One God bless and keep you, princely brothers.” Then she and her remaining men had left them at the foot of the long stair and withdrawn to the cave.
The long stair often constituted little more than chiseled niches between stretches of steep pathway. The route wound back and forth like a snake across the narrowing bulk of Skyrock, whose central mass seemed to be made of hexagonal columns of black stone welded together. At first they were in the rock’s shadow and, almost blind, Terrell had to allow Kirin to lead him by the hand. The steady flow of Terrell’s Light into Kirin’s Shadow felt weirdly comforting on the fraught trek; Terrell tried to keep his mind on his feet. But presently the trail shifted to the southern face of the huge monolith and Calm’s light lit their way. They made better time after that with Kirin walking ahead to scout the steep trail, but Terrell’s awareness of the tumbled slopes dropping away beside them grew stronger.
He tried to convince himself that it was no different from crossing Storm Pass, but this trail wasn’t a tenth the width of that one and had no comforting exterior wall to ward erring feet. Several times they had to step over cracks in the mountainside that dropped sheerly into darkness. One gaped more than a yard wide and he had to nerve himself up and jump, trusting Kirin to catch him if he missed.
He’s so comfortable in the dark. The way demons are supposed to be. Terrell pushed the thought aside, but it didn’t quite go away. I couldn’t do this without him. I’m not even sure I can do it with him. But every hour is precious and dawn is still far away. I must take the risk.
Then the zigzagging path curved around an outthrust buttress and dived into a black crack.
“It’s stairs again,” Kirin reported from the darkness. “Almost a ladder. Looks like it goes to the top. Can you manage a ladder in the dark?”
Terrell steeled his will. *I must. Lead on.*
The climb wracked him with growing terror of the lengthening fall. He couldn’t see his hands and feet or what they touched.
Terrell sensed Kirin doing his best to help. The acrobat swept small pebbles to the side and chucked larger rocks far out into the gulf of air, to give Terrell the cleanest footing that he could. Terrell knew his growing fear of the long fall behind them leaked through the mental bond. He struggled to keep it under control.
I’m a Prince of the Royal House. I can do this. I will.
&nb
sp; * * *
Is that what it’s like to fear falling? Kirin wondered, astonished at the sensations from the prince’s mind. Horrible! How is he ever going to climb down again?
When at last they crawled onto the top of Skyrock, the prince simply lay panting for a while as he clung to the flat stones like a lover. Kirin, embarrassed for him even as he admired Terrell’s bravery, looked around.
They were on the eastern edge of an oval space perhaps a dozen times the size of his room in the Sulfur Serpent. The top of the mass of hexagonal columns had been smoothed by some art; he could clearly see how they were welded together with barely visible seams between them. Skyrock fell away sheer on all sides and the edges were crumbly. Some of the outer columns had cracked free and even fallen; he stayed clear of those. All around stretched a vast gulf of night air.
The triangular peak of God’s Footstool loomed above the western horizon, its moonlit ice gleaming in the night. To the east, beyond basins and low hills, the icy tops of the Black Mountains surged like a frozen wave. North and west the sullen fire of the Hellmouth volcano glowed below the rim of the world. South the desert sands stretched to the horizon. This must be the Sand Sea that he’d heard about, that lapped close to the western edge of Sulmona.
Beneath them the Node sank deep into the World. He could feel it without even trying, constrained by powerful spells into a column of power that made his Shadow fret in hunger. His mind kept a tight grip on his personal monster as he turned to Terrell.
“We’re here. Now what?”
* * *
All the way up Terrell had fought the quivering terror gnawing at his gut. I climbed the Warburg stair and the Hill of Sight, and both were taller than this, he told himself sternly. The terror answered with a scream of but I couldn’t fall so far on either of them!
The flat top of Skyrock gave him blessed relief.
At Kirin’s question he forced himself to sit up and look around. The edge of the constrained node lay right under him. He could feel the structured spells wrapping around it like helical ladders, forcing the node into a tight cylinder filling less than a third of the stone spire. Kirin had knelt just outside the edge of the node and from the way he looked at it, was none too happy to be even that close. It must be a little like staring at the point of an arrow in a drawn-back bow aimed at your face.
I can do this. Terrell got to his feet and walked to the center. The confining spells forced the node’s power upward, an awesome potential trembling under the smooth caps of the hexagonal columns. His Light burned in his chest in response. The Duermu magic differed from any other he’d ever dealt with, but not, he thought, impossibly so. It must work at least somewhat like the Hill of Sight. Activation first.
He sank his magical awareness into the node, much like using the Stone Throne. There were wards and simple trap spells, almost laughably easy to bypass. He swept them aside in his haste, searching for the action spells.
“Oops.” Chagrin took him as a guardian spell rose to block him. It manifested as blue manacles that extruded from the stone floor to lock onto his ankles and hold him fast. A message construct launched itself from the node and flew west, probably toward Artep. Capture and alarm in one.
“Did you mean to do that?” Kirin asked him skeptically.
“Argh. No.” Terrell tried to cajole the spell into releasing him; nothing happened. Idiot! he berated himself. Of course the Duermu mages had a subtle trap waiting!
After several more fruitless tries Terrell had to admit he was truly snared. *This is so embarrassing.*
Kirin got up, ambled over and stuck his hands into the blue bonds. The spell abruptly died and the glowing manacles disappeared. Kirin smirked and strolled back to resume his seat.
I deserved that. Terrell suppressed a sigh and searched—very carefully—for the activator. This time he found it and gingerly opened it.
A cloud of spells appeared around him, evidently crafted by generations of Duermu mages and priestesses. He knew gratitude that there were less than half as many as cluttered the top of the Hill of Sight. Then he settled in to the search for one that he could bend to his desired use. A mental push here and pull there, and—
A blazing column of light shot up into the night sky.
For a moment Terrell simply bathed in it, glorying in the sensation of disciplined power at his command. Then he modulated the column into alternating bursts of short and long beams. It took long enough that the first faint hint of dawn touched the eastern horizon before he finished. The encoded message would repeat until he stopped it. Confident at last that the node would keep pulsing light into the sky without his attention, he staggered out of it and collapsed next to Kirin. Should I think of him as Ryghar? But that’s not the name he expects to be called by. Better I stick with Kirin.
“All right, I’m impressed,” his twin brother said testily. “But what’s it doing?”
*Calling,* Terrell answered smugly, leaning back flat on the stone to watch the pulsating column ascend toward Heaven.
*Calling who?*
*The only ones who can get us to Sulmona and Aretzo on time; the Ilvar Clan.*
*And who in the Nine Hells are they?*
A black speck appeared against the lightening eastern sky. That was fast, they must have had a night lookout on duty. I didn’t know they were willing to fly in the dark. *The flying wizards, who can get us to Sulmona in a day. We’re going to rescue your father and my best friend Penghar.* He gestured toward the speck, which slowly grew bigger. That Ilvar mage must be setting new speed records for crossing the desert.
Terrell added, *At least, I hope we are. If we’re in time.* It would be a horrifying irony to arrive late, to find Darnaud triumphant over Pen’s cooling corpse. Exactly the sort of cruelty in which the Pale Seraph known as Salim the Tormentor delighted. But if Pieter were alive and Pen defeated Darnaud, perhaps Kirin would want to stay in Sulmona with his father?
If I use such excuses to prevent him from exercising his right to try for the crown, will that not be only a degree better than actively betraying him? Terrell wondered. Did Azerin and Zablock walk this path before me? Father Seraph Haroun, shield me from Desrey’s temptation! Now more than ever I must cling to the path of honor in every particular.
Kirin stared at the distant mage. Terrell sensed his twin’s hopes soar. Together they waited as the mage raced the rising suns toward their perch, and Skyrock continued to blast its summons into the sky.
* * *
More than a full candlemark later, Terrell silenced the summoning spell moments before the carpet slid to a stop on the rock. He recognized one of the younger Ilvar sons through the man’s bundled robes even as the seated mage bowed from the waist.
“Your Highness.” The Ilvar pulled back a scarf covering the lower half of his face as he spoke reverently. “My uncle told me the code you two agreed upon, but I little dreamed that I would have the honor of answering your summons. How may I serve you?”
“First, by flying myself and my companion to Sulmona, and second by summoning the Master of the Air and the other fast fliers of your clan to meet us there. My Royal Wizard has betrayed me, a usurper wears my face in Aretzo, and the Twenty have been summoned.”
“Then do you wish me to send a message construct to Aretzo to delay the Choosing until you can arrive?”
“No.” Terrell scowled to the southwest. “I can’t trust any message sent to the Palace to get through, and I don’t want to give away my location. I don’t know who else may be collaborating with him, but the mage guild at least is likely compromised. I fear the Hierarchy may be as well. But the Stone Throne itself cannot be suborned. We must get to the Hill of Sight with all possible speed, but first, a message and then ourselves to Sulmona, where the life of my closest friend is threatened.”
The young wizard face blossomed in a delighted grin. “Then wrap yourselves in your blankets and sit close behind me, My Lords, for the wind is cold when you travel as we do.”
*Wait a minute,* Kirin protested, sending Terrell a memory of Kirin’s struggle at the river crossing. *He needs to use magic to hold that thing up. What happens when the spells meet my Shadow? We’ll all fall!*
*Then you must restrain it,* Terrell told him somberly. *You will have the help of my Light. We’ll share the blanket in flight as we did in sleep.*
An echo of Kirin’s answering gulp quivered in Terrell’s throat. *Dung on a rope. I hope this works.*
*As do I,* Terrell thought back. *For I will not leave you here at the mercy of Herrip’s assassins—and we must rescue your adoptive father.*
Kirin’s jaw firmed and he nodded decisively. *Thank you.*
A quarter-candlemark later, with message constructs cast and sent to warn Pen and summon the Ilvar Clan, Terrell knelt close behind the mage. Kirin pressed against his left side and they wrapped their lone blanket about them. Kirin had to clutch the blanket’s front edges together with both hands to keep the wind out; his teeth clenched nearly as hard. Terrell reached beneath the blanket’s bottom edge to grasp the mage’s belt with his right hand and slipped his left arm around Kirin’s shoulders. He hugged his blood brother close to share body-heat, and to feed Light to the hungry Shadow. “We’re ready, Mage.”
The young Ilvar answered happily, “Then hang on, My Lords!”
The thick fabric under their knees stiffened and rose, and away they flew through risk and fear and hope, as the rising wind cut at them and the Sand Sea unfolded beneath their fragile craft.
Shadow and Light Page 52