Game of Towers and Treachery (The Shadow's Apprentice Book 2)

by Harper Alexander

  And then the source appeared, spilling from the shadows like a nightmare. A fetid underworld ocean, a monster of roiling, churning, writhing waves flocking from the filthiest crevices of the world to its queen.

  Who ever would have guessed that ‘Water Elemental’ would just prove to be a nice way of saying ‘Sewer Sorceress’? It was a last, possibly hysterical comedic thought before all hell broke loose. But she drew inspiration from the notion, owning it.

  In the end, she was no charming water sprite. She was a godsforsaken underworld siren.

  The vicious waves gobbled up the shaft, quickly shrinking the distance to their quarry. Clevwrith backed up a step. Then another. A futile defense mechanism that indicated, for the first time since Despiris had known him, that he was utterly, completely out of his element, the threat before him incalculable.

  Instinct kicking in, Clevwrith did the only thing he could do. He ran.

  Full speed toward Despiris.

  Past her.

  Away into the tunnel behind her.

  He probably thought she would be sensible enough to do the same. Probably thought she was right behind him.

  In all honesty, it took a conscious effort of will for Despiris to stand her ground. To let the water come. She’d known the current would be daunting, but even anticipating it, even controlling it, nothing could have prepared her for what it would be like, standing with that deadly torrent boring down on her with nowhere to go. A flutter of panic rose inside her, a single moment of ‘Oh gods, what have I done?’ fracturing her resolve before she reminded herself she had nothing to fear.

  The water was her lackey.

  A strange calm quelled the panic. The violent, frothing force before her became suddenly beautiful. An entrancing, ethereal kaleidoscope.

  In what suddenly seemed a far-off shore of reality, she had just the presence of mind to part her lips, to manufacture an impression of utter terror for effect, and shriek, “CLEVWRITH!”

  And then the water hit.

  There was no telling whether he heard her over the din of the gushing river. Whether he even had it in him to pause amidst his own terror to consider her safety. She could only hope, as the water engulfed her, that he took the bait – that he would somehow find it in him to fight his way back to her.

  Or at least exhaust himself trying.

  The impact was like nothing she had ever experienced. So far beyond any fall, beyond any punch to the gut, beyond anything that had ever taken the wind out of her, that for a few brief moments in time, it was as if her essence came apart into a million far-flung pieces and transcended dimensions.

  She was stardust swirling with the essence of the cosmos. She kissed oblivion. Encountered the universe. Was trampled like dust across stampede-ravaged continents.

  She flew with the angels and danced with the devil. Forgot her body. Forgot her mind. Abandoned the worldly realm like a toy she’d abruptly outgrown.

  She tasted dirt and sun and blood and music.

  And then the pieces of her came back together, and she was mortal and fragile and conscious once again.

  The calm was there, still, somewhere deep down, but this was no tranquil womb. This was chaos.

  Her chaos, but chaos nonetheless.

  It was instinct to fight the current, to struggle against the dizzying churn that tumbled her body over and over and over again. After what seemed like an eternity, she distinguished up from down, finding the surface as the water level stabilized.

  She came up coughing and sputtering, gasping for breath and thrashing to keep from being pummeled against the side of the tunnel. She careened down the shaft with frightening speed, unable to steady herself long enough to search the distance for Clevwrith.

  Grazing suddenly too close to the top of the tunnel as the water level fluctuated, she submerged quickly to avoid losing her head. This is madness, she thought, wondering how she could ever have thought it was a good idea, bringing this kind of thing down on herself. She’d thought Clevwrith was cocky, and she’d brought the full wrath of an ocean down on top of them, as if anyone could control the ocean.

  She had to reach deep into herself for the reminder: you can control this. She had harnessed it. Controlled it up to this point. All she had to do was find her focus amidst the chaos. Shut out the physical confusion and get back to her tranquil center.

  She submerged a second time, silencing at least the worst of the din. Shutting her eyes, she let the current take her, searching for the pulse of the force around her.

  The water was her lackey. Her lifeblood. You will yield to me, she commanded, and something in the current changed. The fury organized itself, the strength of the current still towing her onward but a smoother rhythm allowing her to steady herself, to find her equilibrium. The water became a tool, rather than a hindrance. A force to be wielded, rather than fought.

  Her eyes flashed open underwater. The tunnel churned past in an indistinguishable smear, but she could sense its parameters through the water. Could use the water as an extension of herself to perceive every twist and turn that waited in the path ahead.

  In control once again, she surfaced with renewed confidence, leveling out the current to keep well clear of the top of the shaft. She sent her awareness forward, feeling for Clevwrith.

  There. Laboring to keep his head above water in the distance ahead of her.

  Despiris returned to the plan, feigning panic once again. “Clevwrith!”

  She sensed rather than saw his struggle as he turned toward her voice and fought the current. “Des!” His voice was a raucous echo in the tunnel, a desperate edge lacing his cry.

  She had him. Push away the guilt. Marry the charade. With ruthless resolve, she nudged the torrent harder against him, making him fight harder to get back to her.

  She needed him tired. Dead tired. Nothing left to give.

  She felt his resistance, pushing back against the deluge. Felt him inch closer in spite of the overwhelming force.

  He was doing it. Giving all he had for her.

  Her heartstrings clenched, condemning her for this cruel deceit. And yet she did not relent. The game had to end. If she had to sacrifice her peace of mind to end it, nearly killing Clevwrith to keep him from killing himself, so be it.

  Come on, Clevwrith. Dig deep.

  They spilled into another shaft, this one better illuminated by twilit gutter skylights. Suddenly she could see him, riding the current before her. He was swimming, arms churning one over the other, determined to reach her. And by the gods, he was doing it. Slowly closing the distance between them.

  “Swim to me!” he yelled, needing her to meet him halfway.

  But she couldn’t make it easy on him. Making a show of going under again, she flailed desperately, coming back up gasping and coughing.

  He wrestled the waves with an unmatched fervor, surging a margin closer.

  It was everyone’s last mistake, underestimating the Master of the Shadows. His aptitude for the impossible was unprecedented.

  Despiris twisted the current around him, sending him into a spiral. For a few long moments the vortex set him back, holding him under. But he fought his way back to the surface, returning to his quest to reach her. She remembered speculating, once, that he would swim across the entire ocean for her.

  Today, he was proving it. He would swim the ocean, face-off with sorcerers, tear the world apart to reach her.

  Despiris lost track of where they were under the city. They’d ridden the current for what felt like miles, swallowed into the lost catacombs of the underworld.

  Suddenly Clevwrith faltered, treading water as his focus shifted. Had his arms given out? Or was he merely changing tactics?

  Spotting something along the side of the shaft, he changed course, propelling himself sideways instead of toward her.

  Despiris saw it a moment later. The ladder rungs bolted to the side of the tunnel, leading up to an access point.

  Straining with all his might, Clevwrith sn
agged them just before the torrent could sweep him past. His arms nearly wrenched from their sockets as he jerked himself to a stop, but he held on, fastening himself to the shaft. Drained but steadfast, he hauled himself up a rung, half out of the water, and sought a visual of Despiris once again.

  She gushed toward him, his stationary position making her suddenly aware of just how fast she was moving. She would surpass him in mere instants.

  But Clevwrith wasn’t going to let that happen. He launched himself away from the wall as she neared, intercepting her.

  She tried to bolster the current between them, forcing their bodies apart, but he was too quick. His arm snaked around her, and he pulled her to him.

  No matter. He would wear himself out fighting the current for both of them, now.

  She threw her arms around his neck, clinging to him like her life depended on it. And like an anchor, she dragged him down, the current lapping at their faces.

  Coughing, Clewrith thrashed to keep their heads above water. His arm slipped, Despiris plunging under, but he groped for whatever he could get his hands on and hauled her back up.

  Down the tunnel they raced, churning and twining, stuck in a turbulent dance that sought to pull them apart at the seams.

  They jetted down another shaft. Dizzy. Breathless. Hopeless.

  But there was another flight of rungs, jutting from the wall. Rushing too-quickly toward them.

  “Come on, Des!” Clevwrith cried, hauling her toward the rungs.

  Despiris floundered alongside him, trying to slow him down. Once again she brandished the current, flaring a swell between Clevwrith and the wall.

  He missed, careening onward down the shaft.

  Three times he tried, and three times she secretly inhibited his attempts, until his struggle became solely a matter of keeping his head above water, all other goals forsaken. Only then did she relent, shifting her efforts to keeping him aloft, letting the torrent ease them closer to the edge at long last.

  Clevwrith made a hasty grab for the next set of rungs, and this time Despiris didn’t stop him. He found purchase, jarring them to a halt.

  “Hold on, Des,” he urged, his choked voice and pained expression a testament to how much the ordeal had taken out of him.

  Silently, Despiris seized a rung, no longer needing to prolong his hardship. Enough was enough.

  She let the water subside, the shaft draining around them. Clevwrith trembled against her, barely able to cling to the rungs as the weight of his own body returned.

  No longer could she keep the guilt at bay, knowing what she was about to do. Knowing she was going to turn his heroic actions against him, and return the favor of him saving her life by imprisoning him. She couldn’t back down now, though. She’d come too far.

  Ruthless.

  Clevwrith buckled the instant the water drained past his knees, slopping into the shallow trickle that remained. He caught himself on hands and knees, barely holding himself out of it, the filthy water lapping at his lips. When the stream finally bled out into mere puddles, he collapsed outright, sprawling across the wet ground in defeat.

  Despiris crawled over to him. In another life, another time, she might have curled up alongside him. Might have probed to see if he was okay, helped coax him to his feet. But today she was not that person.

  Today, she was the huntress. The victor. The betrayer.

  She groped for the shackles clipped to her belt. When she straddled Clevwrith, reaching for his wrists, he was too numb, too spent, to question what she was doing. Unsuspecting, he let her take his hands in hers. He thought nothing of it, either totally senseless or suspicious of nothing more than that she wanted to hold him, to give and receive comfort.

  And so, just like that, she clapped the irons around his wrists. First one, and then the other. A dull flash of alarm found its way into his eyes, but by the time he thought to pull away, it was too late.

  She had him.

  The Master of the Shadows was caught.

  26

  The Getaway Inferno

  “For there is no trap which cannot be thwarted from the inside. No snare we cannot contort ourselves out of. No doom which cannot be solved as a mere riddle.” – Clevwrith

  *

  She saw the instant it dawned on him. Read the subtle progression of deduction and emotion on his face.

  First, he froze, stunned that she could take advantage of the situation in that way. Then came a spark of alarm, of disbelief, as he recalled she was an elemental. As he wondered if she could possibly have planned the entire thing.

  Wondered if he had underestimated her. If he knew her at all.

  Then came a flicker of hurt. A hard setting of his jaw as the inevitable stab of resentment replaced the hurt.

  And finally, a cool façade of resignation.

  Despiris grappled with her own emotions, unable to find any gloating words of triumph as she knelt in the gutter water atop her catch – unable to find any words at all to explain herself. It was torture, looking him in the eye, and yet she could look nowhere else, something inside her desperate to connect, to take responsibility, to beg forgiveness.

  Too exhausted to fight, Clevwrith broke her gaze and stared up at the top of the sewer shaft. “Congratulations, Des,” he said quietly, tone completely devoid of emotion. “I’m not sure when this became a competition of cruelty, but you’ve won.”

  Despiris blinked, and she wasn’t sure if the drop that rolled down her face was a tear or sewer water squeezed from her lashes. Ruthless. The word echoed in her mind. A fact, an accusation, a cry of regret… Impossible to say, really.

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured, hoping in some way he would see that she wasn’t doing this because she wanted to, that it wasn’t because she was some poor sport dead set on winning, whatever the cost. In time, maybe, she could explain, but not here. Not now. It was too much. Something she was still sorting out for herself.

  Clevwrith’s gaze came back down to hers, now empty and unreadable. “Don’t be.” It was impossible to say if the words were bitter or sincere. Perhaps both.

  She couldn’t take it anymore. Couldn’t stare any longer at her reflection in his gaze, at the conflicted girl betraying a most beloved soul for the second time. Setting her jaw, she tore her gaze from his, climbing to her feet and hauling him up after her. He gave little resistance, his lagging bodyweight the only deterrence he had left.

  Despiris pushed him up against the rungs. “Climb,” she instructed.

  Wordlessly, Clevwrith obeyed, but it was slow going, his body still quivering from exertion. They climbed out on Cashmere Street, Despiris taking his arm and leading him north down the cobbles.

  It was a strange feeling, marching Clevwrith down the street as her prisoner. Not the proud moment nor victorious win she’d imagined in other scenarios.

  No; it felt grim. Wrong.

  You could still let him go, a treasonous little voice reminded her, but she quickly snuffed it like a candle that would give her away in the dark. If Clevwrith escaped the royal dungeon, then he escaped, and that would be on him. But she had to see this through. Had to at least have it on the record that she’d done her job, fulfilled her end of the bargain.

  Had to at least initiate the idea that the Shadowhunter operation was no longer necessary, that all parties employed for the purpose could be disbanded.

  They walked for blocks in silence, until Clevwrith’s knees buckled. Despiris caught him instinctively, but he righted himself before crumpling outright. Ushering him toward a building, she paused to let him rest. Propping himself against the wall, he surveyed the street around them, letting his strength replenish.

  It was a quiet part of the city, a row of smaller storefronts run by sole proprietors, mostly closed for the night. A single lit gaslamp illuminated a lone carriage parked in the street ahead, evidence that some dedicated soul was working late, but the rest of the street lurked dark and dormant.

  “It’s cute, you know,” Clevwrith
piped up, bringing her attention back to him. “That you can be so cruel and yet still so naïve.”

  In spite of the guilt, of the hundred ways she already condemned herself for her iniquity, she still bristled at being insulted, couldn’t help the spark of defensiveness that came with her nature. Naïve? “Meaning…?”

  “I told you not to be sorry. And that’s because you have nothing to be sorry for. This doesn’t mean you have me.” He held up his shackled wrists. “You don’t have me until I’m behind bars. And it’s a long way yet to the palace. You think I’m just going to walk to my doom? I’m not that complacent. I think I’d rather stand here all night.”

  A trickle of dread moved through her. Dread that he would force her to play more cruel cards yet. “I can get a horse, Clevwrith.” There’s one just down the street. “Please. Don’t make me drag you.”

  “I think I will.” His spirit was returning, a sparkle of defiance once again alight in his eyes.

  Weary of how difficult this was proving – emotionally, as much as anything else – Despiris sat down on the edge of a gaslamp base, the stone slab just wide enough to create a slight bench. She should have expected no less, of course. Why would Clevwrith make this easy on her? She didn’t deserve that. She’d done a despicable thing, and he had no more wish to spend his days behind bars than he ever had. Of course he still wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

  Despiris glanced down the lane, considering the carriage. The driver was away from his post, leaning against the gaslamp having a smoke as he waited for his passenger to return from their business inside. It wouldn’t be that hard to make off with his carriage. Of course, Despiris would be a fool to stuff Clevwrith in a carriage and expect him to stay there for transport. No. There was no doubt in her mind he would procure his escape if she took her eyes off him for more than a minute. The carriage was a no-go. She would have to tie him to the horse itself, and make him walk in plain sight.

  It would not be nearly as easy to make off with the horse if she had to take the time to secure Clevwrith, and then also take care not to drag him to death as they made their escape.