Stepping out of Dal’s embrace, Signe wiped away her tears. “There’s a forge next to the Hellgate. Rendborne has had a blacksmith on hand for the moment some was found. If it’s there it’ll be easy to spot. It’s unlike any metal you’ve ever seen—deep red, like raw meat.”
“Why not use an earthist to fashion the weapon?” Kate asked. “They could do it in half the time.”
“Rendborne doesn’t fully trust the wilders,” replied Signe. “And my mother speculated the Hellsteel might be resistant to magical manipulation, though there was no earthist to test it while we had it in our possession.”
Kate frowned, supposing it made sense. Rendborne’s distrust certainly explained why he would keep the wilder forces here and not in Norgard. “What’s the best way to the forge?”
“There’s an entrance down the hallway to the left. It leads right to it.” Signe took a step toward the door, but Dal reached out a hand.
“You can’t go out there looking like that. Put this on first.” He handed her a magestone that would disguise her face, but they didn’t have one to disguise her soiled tunic and breeches to look like Sevan armor.
“Do you have some rope or twine, anything to bind your hands?” Kate said. “We can make you appear as a prisoner.”
Signe turned to the narrow bed on the far side of the room. A moment later, she ripped a strip of fabric off the sheet and wrapped it around her wrists, holding it to give the appearance that she was bound.
“Good.” Kate turned to Dal. “Get Signe back to camp.”
“Now just you hold on.” Signe jammed her hands onto her hips, dropping the disguise. “I’m coming with you.”
Kate pinned her with a glower. “No you’re not. It’s too dangerous.”
“Kate’s right, Signe,” Dal said, and she shot him a murderous look.
Keenly aware of how much time they’d lost already, Kate summoned her magic and entered Signe’s head. You will go now.
Signe went stiff, eyes widened in shock. “Get out of my head. How dare you! You’re just as bad as he is!”
Kate took an involuntary step backward, guilt lancing through her at the revulsion she sensed in Signe. Corwin had reacted the same the day she tried to free him of Gavril’s control. It’s not the same! She wanted to scream. What she did was for the good of her friends, to protect them. Anger rose up in her, driving back the guilt. “I’m nothing like Gavril. Now get out of here.” Kate invoked her sway again, turning its full strength on Signe. Her friend went rigid, and then a dazed look came over her face.
Dal reached for her as if he feared she would faint. “Kate, what did you do?”
She wheeled on him. “What I had to. Now get her to safety.”
“Or what, you’ll use your sway on me too?” Dal’s reproachful look sent a fresh surge of outrage through her. He shook his head, and before she could answer he turned and steered Signe toward the door.
Kate followed after, locking the door again in case anyone came looking. Dal and Signe moved to the right, back toward the entrance, and Kate to the left. Listening to her friends’ quick retreat, she pushed aside the doubt gaining strength inside her.
She’d done what she had to. No hesitation.
Moving on, she wondered where Corwin and the others were by now, but as before, the fog on her magic kept her from reaching out.
She arrived at the entrance into the Hellgate a few moments later, the doorway aglow with a reddish light and voices echoing from within. With her magic braced and ready as best it could be, Kate stepped through the doorway into a narrow passage between the raised platforms that surrounded the chamber like seats in an amphitheater. Last time she’d been here, those platforms had been full of cages housing drakes inside. Now they stood empty save for a handful of soldiers keeping watch.
Kate eased her way closer, spying the forge just ahead to the right. The fire was lit but no one stood nearby. The few people there were at ground level, gathered in an area not far from the Hellgate’s opening. The last time she’d seen that massive hole in the ground, thick iron bars covered it end to end, darkness lurking within. This time, it stood open, and orange flickering light emanated out of it, from torches and mage lights burning inside. For a second, Kate sensed the depth of the Hellgate, and the sensation made her dizzy.
Pulling her gaze away, she focused on the group ahead. They stood semicircled around a raised area that hadn’t been there last she was here. It looked like wilder work, the floor itself coaxed upward same as Bonner had done with the ladder on the wall. A man knelt in the middle of the platform, held in the position by chains attached to the floor.
Edwin Tormane. Kate’s stomach clenched at the sight of him bound like a sacrificial animal.
Realizing how suspicious she must look, Kate straightened up, assuming the posture of a Sevan soldier as she took another few steps forward, close enough to glance about the rest of the area. To her dismay, she spotted Rendborne standing a few feet away from the raised platform with Magnar Fane beside him. Gavril hovered a few yards behind them both—a perpetual shadow, and a powerful one.
“As promised, your majesty,” Rendborne said, bowing his head toward Magnar, “the Hellsteel weapon is ready.”
Rendborne raised a wicked-looking trident in his right hand, the blades at its top fashioned unmistakably out of Hellsteel. As Signe had said, the metal was a raw red color, like meat on a butcher’s block. The head was circular with the three prongs spaced evenly along its circumference, so that when viewed head on, they formed a triangle.
Magnar held out his hand, accepting the trident. Kate watched the exchange in disbelief. Rendborne would never give up possession of such a weapon of power. She could feel its magic from across the room, tingles running down her arms and legs.
“I assumed you would like to be the first to use it.” A smile curved Rendborne’s lips.
Magnar nodded, his gaze fixed on the trident, eyes wide with lust for its power, its magic. The very reason for the years of preparation he’d made to invade Rime.
“Go on, your majesty,” Rendborne said. “Kill the young prince and initiate the rebirth of Sevan magic.”
An alarm sounded in Kate’s head. This was all wrong. A trap, a ruse, a manipulation.
Frozen in place, she watched as Magnar stepped onto the platform. Only then did she see the glass bowls set in intervals around the circular platform, their depths filled with bright-red blood. My blood. She knew it instinctively, and a shiver crawled down her back. Faint lines were etched into the sides of the bowls, magist magic. This was some sort of spell, but what?
She had no answer, and helplessly she stood by as Magnar approached Edwin. There were too many people for her to fight. Perhaps if she had full use of her magic, but the smothering sensation was worse in here. She had a terrible feeling it might be connected to the blood spell.
Edwin looked up at the Godking, his head tilted back and his expression proud and unflinching, no trace of the fear he must be feeling.
Magnar peered down at Edwin. “I will listen and accept your prayers now, princeling.”
“May the three hells take you,” Edwin said through gritted teeth.
Smiling, Magnar raised the trident, angling it toward Edwin’s heart. Kate held her breath, ready to close her eyes and look away. The entire Hellgate seemed to hold its breath with her, all eyes fixed on Magnar and the would-be king of Rime.
“There are no hells,” the Godking said, eyes wide and wild, “for a god.”
Just as Magnar pulled back his arm to strike, a scream rent the silence. The sound of it sent Kate’s heart lurching into her throat. No, no, no, don’t do this. She stepped forward, desperate to stop what was happening, but there was no chance of it.
Corwin rushed headlong toward the platform, sword drawn and heedless of the death that surely waited him there.
23
Corwin
CORWIN DIDN’T THINK. HE ACTED, driven by instinct and need, heedless of the danger.
/>
He’d only just glimpsed his brother, bound in chains and staring up at the Godking with defiance on his face, but that was all it took. They hadn’t meant to come into the Hellgate at all, but to move on, searching the outer chambers. But Corwin had felt the burn in his palm, the uror brand calling out to him in warning. The moment he saw Magnar threatening his brother with that strange trident, he understood.
Now, he ran with all the strength his body possessed—if he could just get there in time, he could stop this somehow. As he leaped onto the platform his foot knocked against one of the glass bowls, blood spraying outward. Someone shouted in outrage, but he barely heard it. Just as he barely felt the ground quake behind him—Bonner supporting him in this mad attempt to save his brother.
Magnar turned toward Corwin, eyes widening as he realized the threat, but he didn’t move to defend himself. Instead a malicious grin crossed his face as his arm swung down, jamming the three-pronged blade into Edwin’s heart.
The metal didn’t break this time; it sank in deep.
“No!” Corwin skidded to a halt, the sound of his shout drowned out by the explosions from Yaron joining Bonner in the attack.
Magnar jerked the trident free of Edwin’s chest, then turned to face Corwin. He raised his hand, ready to meet Corwin’s assault, but froze at the red raw light emanating from the tips of the trident. The light thickened into something almost tangible, and the color transformed from red to black until it resembled a living shadow. The shadow thing rose over Magnar’s hands like black smoke, and he dropped the trident as if it burned, but the shadow didn’t stop. It swept over him, pouring into his nose and mouth and ears. Choking, he turned and fled just before Corwin reached him.
With an agonized cry, Corwin stopped when he reached his brother and knelt beside him, praying he yet lived, but the light had gone from Edwin’s eyes even as the blood still spilled from the wound in his chest. Rage and horror and despair filled Corwin, leaving no room for thoughts or reason. With his soul still screaming, he stood and sheathed his sword, then stooped to pick up the Hellsteel weapon. If Magnar claimed himself a god, then he would die like one. Corwin spun around, dimly aware of the soldiers rising to meet the attack. But none of them were wilder or magist, and they were thus ill equipped to defeat Bonner and Yaron.
Spying the Godking, Corwin leaped off the platform after him. But Magnar was too far, and a swarm of soldiers converged around him, guarding his hasty retreat. Corwin turned, hoping to head them off, but then his focus abruptly changed as he caught sight of Gavril fleeing just ahead. Hatred spurred Corwin after him. If he could not have Magnar, he would settle for Gavril—and he finally had a weapon that could harm him.
Gripping the trident tightly, Corwin raced after the wilder. Gavril had a head start, but he was slow and soft, his only strength his magic. But you can’t reach me now. Not with the vial around his neck. Gavril stumbled and fell, and it was all Corwin needed to close the gap. Not waiting for the man to turn around, Corwin aimed the trident at his back. Gavril didn’t deserve an honorable death.
“Corwin, don’t!” Kate screamed from behind him.
Her words didn’t register in his mind, which was racing with all the memories of pain and suffering Gavril had inflicted upon him. With a powerful thrust he plunged the trident into Gavril’s back. Gavril cried out, but before Corwin could relish the victory, savor in the sudden freedom from the Tenets, something struck him from behind, knocking the weapon out of his grip. Gavril was plunged forward, and he fell on his face with the trident sticking out from him like a spear through a felled boar.
Corwin turned to see that it was Kate who had struck him, barreling into him so hard she had fallen over. Too bewildered to understand her actions, he turned to retrieve the trident, only to have Kate scramble to her feet and push him back away from it.
“Don’t touch it.” Kate pointed to the weapon, where, as before, a sickening red light was pouring out from it, quickly turning into that living black shadow. “Back away. Don’t let the smoke touch you.”
Corwin gaped at her, confusion muddling his thoughts. What was happening? The shadow was spreading across the ground like fog. He shook his head. “We can’t leave it.” He reached for the trident again.
“Don’t.” Kate grabbed him once more, and before he could shake her off, Bonner appeared beside them. He reached through the smoke for the trident in Gavril’s back, ignoring Kate’s shout. Hands gripped around the weapon, he pulled it free.
“Now we go,” Bonner said with a sharp look at Kate. She didn’t argue, but turned and hurried for the door. Corwin followed after her, casting a glance at Bonner running beside him. There was no black smoke around the weapon anymore, but when he looked over his shoulder, he saw it still spreading throughout the room, emanating from where both Edwin and Gavril lay dead. The sight of it made the hairs on his neck stand on end. It showed no sign of stopping and would soon cover everything.
They raced along the outer hallway toward the exit. Several Sevan soldiers tried to stop them, but Kate reached out her hand and a moment later the men dropped to the ground. She may have just knocked them unconscious . . . but Corwin didn’t think so. His stomach clenched. She’d killed them so easily, without a second’s hesitation. In that moment she hardly seemed the person he’d known and loved before.
“The wilders in the camp,” Bonner said over his shoulder at Kate. “Can you reach them with your sway? Tell them where to flee?”
She shook her head. “Not yet. We need to get outside.”
They reached the bailey a few moments later to find the encampment in chaos. The wilders had sensed Gavril’s death the moment it happened, the release of the cursed Tenets, and the reaction was as expected—they too were freed from his control, and fighting back. Triumph swelled in Corwin’s heart as he took a moment to explore his own mind, savoring the realization that it was indeed his own again. Gavril’s magic was gone.
“I’ll get as many as I can,” Kate said, a look of concentration spreading over her face. “I’ll send them to the dragon caves.” She stumbled, and Corwin caught her, pulling her upright.
They raced into the fray, wilders unleashing their spells left and right while the Sevan soldiers fought back. But Bonner and the others didn’t engage. They only ran, their purpose escape for now, not victory. Corwin guessed Kate must be reaching at least some of the wilders, for several of them began to retreat.
“Bonner, can you make a hole for us?” Corwin pointed at the battlements, but Bonner must not have heard him, for he didn’t respond. It didn’t matter. A moment later another earthist did it for them, and Corwin suspected Kate might’ve had something to do with it. Corwin plunged through the hole in the wall after the woman, leading the way.
Once in the woods, they hurried over the familiar ground to their encampment, dodging around trees and jumping limbs and brambles. In moments they arrived at the camp, the spot so well hidden that for a moment Corwin doubted it was the right place.
“Dal! Signe! Everyone!” Kate shouted up at the trees. “We need to flee, now!”
Dal appeared from around a tree, with Signe looming just behind him. “No one else is here but us.”
“What do you mean?” Bonner strode toward Dal, his stoic expression showing signs of splintering into panic.
“Just what I said. When we got here there was no sign of any of them. Harue, Xia, Wen, Valora, they’re all gone. So are their horses.”
“It makes no sense.” Kate turned a quick circle, eyes scanning the trees surrounding them as if she could spot their path.
Corwin fisted his hands in frustration, fingernails digging into his palms. “We can’t wait for them. Let’s go.”
They all turned at once and headed down the path where they’d been keeping their horses penned inside a makeshift corral that Xia had built using the trees and bushes themselves to form the walls. A few moments later they were on their way, racing through the woods as fast as the steeds could manage.
Once out on the road, Corwin glanced behind him to see a squad of Sevan soldiers giving chase. He drew the bow off his saddle.
“I’ve got this, Corwin,” Kate said. Casting her gaze over her shoulder, the Sevan horses suddenly bolted sideways, dumping their riders with stunning ease. Kate slowed her own horse long enough to stretch out her hand to the fallen soldiers. None of them tried to rise, either asleep or dead by her magic. Corwin didn’t care to speculate which.
They rode on at a grueling pace. Soon all the horses were panting and coated in lather, steam rising off their necks, but they couldn’t slow down, not until they reached a safe distance from the Hellgate. By then, it would be nightfall. Corwin glanced at Yaron, hoping the man had strength left to set the wardstone barriers, or they would be drake food by morning.
“We must stop soon,” Kate said as they breasted another hill. “Or risk killing the horses.”
Yaron pointed to the west. “There are ruins nearby. It’ll be easier for me to set the barrier there.”
The ruins he spoke of turned out to be nothing more than a pile of stones with a few pillars still standing. It looked like it might once have been a cottage, an ancient remnant from a time before nightdrakes. Still it would be enough to give them cover until dawn. Even with magists, the Sevans wouldn’t be foolish enough to pursue them at night, not with the drakes around.
They made camp quickly, Yaron seeing to the wardstone barrier and Kate to the horses, while the rest gathered wood for the fire. The nights were still too cold to go without it. As they did, they’d each given an accounting of the events at the Hellgate. Dal was shocked to learn of what had happened during the failed ritual—most notably Corwin’s recklessness.
Once the barrier was set, they gathered around the fire, each taking turns keeping watch. The barrier would repel drakes only. We could use a few of them now, Corwin thought, in case anyone was still chasing them. Then he reconsidered, remembering the wilders in the encampment—their magic would be dormant at this point, and if the barrier failed for even a moment, they were all done for. Worry pricked at him, and he wished them goddess protection.
Shadow & Flame Page 28