Blackveil

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Blackveil Page 45

by Kristen Britain


  But doubt niggled at her. Who were these “others” who also sought the Sleepers? They must be the disturbance that she’d sensed in the forest. Then there was that music that had become an undercurrent in the etherea, like an itch she could not scratch. It could destroy everything she was working for by strengthening the wall, closing off Blackveil once again.

  As if trying to survive the forest wasn’t difficult enough, she now faced dangers on two additional fronts.

  She hugged Lala and held her close. She would do whatever it took, sacrifice whatever she must, to accomplish her task. Second Empire depended on it.

  RETURN TO TOWER OF THE EARTH

  “We should have told her right away,” Estral said.

  Alton sat at the table in Tower of the Heavens staring morosely at the books piled atop it. Estral stood at the other end, hands on hips. If he didn’t feel bad enough about how things had gone with Karigan, he’d done the one thing he surely wished to avoid: upset Karigan’s best friend. They’d been having this same discussion since the morning of the company’s departure.

  “I was waiting for the right moment.”

  “There is no right moment for that sort of thing,” Estral retorted. “You—”

  Dale suddenly emerged through the tower wall. She took one look at the two of them and backed right out.

  “Oh, forget it,” Estral said, fresh tears dampening her cheeks. “That may be the last time we ever see Karigan, and she left angry and feeling betrayed. Because of us.” She turned on her heel and left the tower.

  “I tried . . .” he mumbled. He supposed he ought to run after her to comfort her, but the last time he’d made an attempt she’d pushed him away. Perhaps he needed to try harder? He just didn’t know the right thing to do.

  “Tried what?”

  Alton squawked and jumped out of his chair. Merdigen. It was Merdigen standing silently behind him. He placed his hand over his thudding heart.

  “Can’t you give a man some warning?” he demanded.

  “You mean you want me to knock before entering my own domicile?”

  “Yes.”

  “Not very likely.” Merdigen conjured a chair for himself and settled down arranging his robes just so. “What did I miss while I was away? Anything new?”

  Relieved to have an excuse not to run after Estral, Alton sank back into his own chair and told Merdigen all about the arrival and departure of the expedition.

  “I should have dearly liked to have spoken with the Eletians,” Merdigen said. “And seen Sir Karigan again. It’s bad luck I missed them.” He brightened upon learning Alton had sent the additional Riders on to the other towers.

  “That is wonderful news,” Merdigen said. “My fellow tower mages will be most delighted, and it should prove useful as well.”

  “And what did you and the others decide about Tower of the Earth?”

  “After numerous arguments and discussions, with some breaks for ale—Booreemadhe is a very good brewer—we concluded that Tower of the Earth must be entered. By you and me. It’s the only way to get answers.”

  “What?” Alton said. “You tried getting in there before, but couldn’t.”

  “Very true. I took the long route that time and found too many broken bridges. But, there is one other possibility, my boy. It is not the safest approach, but it is the only one that remains to us.”

  “And what would that be?”

  Merdigen looked distinctly uneasy. “You must carry the tempes stone to Tower of the Earth.”

  Alton, Estral, and Dale set out for Tower of the Earth the following morning, a raw, gray day hinting at the rain to come. He needed Estral because her singing would allow him to pass through the tower wall, and he needed Dale so she could provide a buffer against Estral’s emotions. Also in case something untoward befell him.

  Swaddled in a blanket deep in one of his saddlebags was the tempes stone. Alton had not known the stone could be removed from its pedestal, but it lifted from the depression that cradled it with no resistance. It was heavy and smooth in his hands, rather like an oversized egg of green tourmaline. The whole time Alton held the stone and packed it, Merdigen fretted and chewed on his fingernails.

  “Don’t drop it! Don’t drop it!” he told Alton. “If it chips or cracks—no! I can’t even think it.”

  “Calm down,” Alton said, “I’ll take good care of it.”

  Merdigen stared at him with an intensity Alton hadn’t witnessed before. “It is not just a pretty stone you’ve got there, boy, it’s what allows me to exist. It contains my essence, who I am. My knowledge, everything.”

  Alton had swallowed hard, finally comprehending the significance of what he held wrapped in the blanket. “I swear to you, Merdigen, I’ll see that the stone remains unharmed.”

  Merdigen nodded. “You do that, boy.” And then resigned to his fate, he vanished, and that was the last Alton had heard from him.

  Merdigen was willing to risk his very existence to see the condition of Tower of the Earth. He’d put his trust in Alton to deliver him safely, and Alton hoped it wasn’t misplaced.

  As if picking up on his thoughts as they plodded at a walk to rest the horses, Dale said, “Do you think Merdigen can tell he’s riding in a saddlebag, or is he just asleep until he gets to the tower?”

  Alton smiled. At least Dale talked to him. Estral remained silent and gloomy and he missed her melodious voice and laughter with unexpected intensity.

  “You’ll have to ask Merdigen yourself,” he replied, “because I have no idea.”

  “I will never understand these tower mages,” Dale said, “or what they are, exactly.”

  “Magical spirits,” Estral said. “Like those in the wall, but manifested as individuals.”

  Dale and Alton gawked at her, but she rode on as if she hadn’t said anything extraordinary. That she spoke at all was startling enough.

  “Merdigen said something like that before,” Dale commented. “But is a magical spirit a living soul?”

  This time Estral appeared deep in thought and did not respond. Alton could only shrug. It sounded like a question for a moon priest. They picked up their pace to a trot. There was still a way to go yet.

  It was drizzling by the time they reached the tower and they immediately tended to the horses and set up camp. Estral stowed her gear in Dale’s tent and Alton sighed at the prospect of another night alone.

  Afterward the three stood together beneath the deepening sky with their hoods drawn.

  “Might as well get started,” Alton said.

  “I will not expose my lute to the rain,” Estral said.

  “I’m sure if you play it in the tent it won’t offend the guardians any,” he replied.

  She only nodded, the hood obscuring her expression.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to go in with you?” Dale asked. “You need someone to watch your back for that . . . that thing in there.”

  “It will be easier for me to shield just myself from the tower defenses. And I need you out here. In case anything goes wrong. If I’m not back out in, say, a couple hours, go to Garth in Tower of the Trees. If something happens to me, there is a chance Merdigen is fine. He may find a way to communicate with Mad Leaf, but from what he says about broken bridges, it doesn’t seem likely.”

  They stood in dismal silence for many moments staring at the tower.

  “I guess I’ll go then,” he said. But before he was two steps away, Estral grabbed him and hugged him.

  “You will come back,” she said fiercely.

  He wrapped his arms around her and pressed his cheek into her hair. “I’ll be back soon.”

  “Good. I’ll play for hours if need be.” She pulled away and glowered at him. “I don’t need to lose you, too.” And she strode toward her tent.

  “Karigan will come back,” he murmured.

  “Karigan can take care of herself,” Dale said. “You, I’m less sure of.”

  “Thanks.”

  She flas
hed him a smile. “Ready?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  He walked toward the tower without looking back, the tempes stone still wrapped in its blanket and tucked in the crook of his arm. By the time he reached the wall, the familiar notes of the wall guardians’ song drifted to him from Estral’s lute.

  He tugged on the hilt of his saber to ensure it would easily clear the scabbard if needed, took a deep breath, and entered Tower of the Earth.

  ’WARE THE SLEEPER

  As soon as Alton emerged into the tower chamber, he called upon his special ability to shield him. He was just in time as lightning forked down on him, the force knocking him to his knees. His nostrils flared at the charged air; he felt his hair rise. He remained absolutely still—more out of mortal fear than discipline—and the magic lightning dissipated. For a moment. He needed to get the tempes stone to the center of the chamber. Merdigen said it did not need to be placed on the pedestal, but it needed to be within the circle of columns.

  Alton shifted his eyes, peering into the gloomy heights of the tower. He discerned no movement, no hint of the creature’s presence, but he knew it was there clinging to the shadows. He knew it must be watching him.

  There was no use in delaying the inevitable. The sooner he delivered the tempes stone, the sooner he could leave the tower. He checked his shield once more, then sprinted. Lightning slammed into his shield and sizzled on the stone floor all around him. Each step brought a new discharge of power trying to blast him from existence. One jolt hit him so hard it knocked the tempes stone from his hands. He fumbled with it, the blanket that was supposed to protect it hampering his grasp.

  “No!” Alton cried. He saw in his mind’s eye the green stone striking the floor and splintering into pieces.

  As it tumbled from his fingers and plummeted, he dove after it and caught it—caught it soundly. His heart hammered in his chest and he closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath. He’d almost lost Merdigen!

  He leaped the rest of the way between a pair of columns and fell into the center of the chamber, thudding to the floor beside the skeleton. Once again, as he stilled, the lightning ceased.

  Like the other towers, passing between the columns seemed to transport him to some other place. But wherever this other place was and whatever it had once been, it was now a burned out ruin of blackened, seared ground and dark murky sky. Nothing lived here, not even a speck of grass. Nothing. It was a shadow land.

  Alton moved carefully so as not to spark the tower’s defenses again, making a nest of the blanket and resting the tempes stone on it. Its fiery green glow sparkled with its own inner fire, adding living light to the desolation all around. He wondered if Merdigen would know he’d almost been dropped. Alton hoped not because he’d never hear the end of it.

  “Tsk, tsk,” the mage said, materializing next to the pedestal and looking down on Alton. “Quite a disaster in here.”

  “What do you think happened?” Alton asked.

  “Give me a few minutes to look around.” Merdigen circled the pedestal with Haurris’ sickly tempes stone upon it, and then gazed down at the skeleton. He muttered to himself and shook his head.

  Alton tried to lie as still as possible, but naturally he had an itch below his left shoulder he was dying to scratch. Resisting the impulse made his eyes water. It did not help he was face-to-face with the skull. He wished Merdigen would hurry up.

  “Sad, very sad,” Merdigen murmured.

  Alton watched out the corner of his eye as Merdigen moved beyond the columns to explore the tower chamber at large.

  Where was the creature thing? he wondered. He tried to focus—to listen for stealthy movements—but he only heard Merdigen clucking to himself. All else was silence. There wasn’t even a touch of a breeze in the scorched landscape he lay in. The air was stagnant, acrid.

  “Are you almost done?” Alton demanded.

  “These things take time,” Merdigen said. He returned to the center of the chamber and gazed once again at the tempes stone, stroking his beard. “I believe the skeletal remains to be Haurris’. How he came to such an end is impossible to know. Unless ...”

  “Unless what?”

  “Unless he managed to leave a trace in his tempes stone, but from the looks of it, that’s not very likely. The spells about the chamber definitely have Haurris’ signature, both the barrier that prevented you from entering the tower the first time, and the defensive spells. I’m beginning to think he also destroyed the bridges that prevented me from coming here in the fall.”

  “To what end?” Alton demanded. “Why would he want to keep us out?”

  “Not just keep us out,” Merdigen replied, “but to trap something within.”

  Alton shuddered. “Can you see it? The creature?”

  “No, I cannot. If it is here, it is remaining utterly still in the shadows. Amazing that it has survived Haurris’ defenses. And for how long, I wonder.”

  “What now?”

  “I am going to take one more look around to make sure I’m not missing anything,” Merdigen replied. “Then we are going to return to my tower with Haurris’ tempes stone.”

  Alton’s breath of relief raised a puff of sooty dust. He was pleased Merdigen did not insist they remain in the tower to complete his investigation of what had happened here.

  Merdigen wandered away, weaving between the columns, looking up, looking down. He then returned and gazed at the skeleton.

  “I would that we could collect his bones for a proper pyre,” Merdigen murmured. “But I suppose they are safe enough where they are for now.”

  “Does that mean you are ready to go?”

  “It does.”

  Alton checked his shields once again and rose. The lightning descended on him and he gritted his teeth. Though it did not touch him, the power of it battered him, threatening to knock him down again.

  “Fascinating,” Merdigen said.

  It was not the word Alton would have used, but he needed to focus on what he was doing and maintain his shield. He reached for Haurris’ dingy tempes stone, and at his touch a ghostly figure sputtered to life, a bent, ancient man with a long bristling beard.

  “ ’Ware the Sleeper,” it intoned.

  “Haurris!” Merdigen cried.

  The figure did not acknowledge him. It flickered, and repeated, “ ’Ware the Sleeper.”

  Alton lifted the stone from the pedestal and the figure vanished.

  “I hope there’s more than—” Merdigen began.

  A screech shattered the still air and out of nowhere something fell from high above and collided with Alton knocking the stone out of his hands. He heard it clatter onto the floor and Merdigen’s wail, but he was busy defending himself from claws slashing through his shields. Lightning ripped overhead.

  The creature bowled him over and he fought to keep it at arm’s length as he worked to strengthen his shields. It was hard to concentrate with that wild and savage thing—all bones and sinew—snarling and lashing at him, seemingly impervious to the lightning that struck at it.

  Alton threw it off him, rolled, and staggered to his feet. Before the creature could pounce on him again, he grasped the hilt of his sword.

  “No!” Merdigen cried, but too late.

  Alton drew the sword. A bolt of lightning flash-blinded him and struck him off his feet. He tossed his sword away from him and lay there stunned, thinking that if not for his shielding, all that would remain of him would be a smoking pile of cinders. Then the creature was on him again, hissing and digging through his weakened shields for his neck.

  They rolled on the floor. Rolled over the skeleton of Haurris, bones snapping beneath Alton’s back. He heaved the creature off him once more and rose to his knees, breathing hard. His hands were covered in blood—his own, he thought. The creature crouched, ready to spring on him again. Alton could make out little of its features, except for its spidery limbs and glowing green eyes.

  The creature launched at him. Alto
n grabbed a broken thigh bone and plunged the sharp, fractured end into the torso of the creature.

  A keening filled the tower. Alton fell away covering his ears. He lay on the floor amid Haurris’ bones, too stunned to move, the cry echoing in his mind.

  When it faded, he saw Merdigen gazing down at the creature on the floor.

  “If that had been an ordinary bone you’d used,” Merdigen said, “and not that of a great mage, you might not have killed this creature.”

  “What? Why?” Alton asked. His voice was hoarse and he tasted blood.

  “It was Eletian. Or at least it had been at one time.”

  The creature was nothing at all like the living, breathing Eletians he’d met. Its flesh was taut parchment spread over angular bones, the glow gone from its eyes, its hair like a snarled cobweb clouding its face.

  “You may be only the second person to end the life of an Eletian since the Long War,” Merdigen said. “You brought to an end an otherwise eternal life.”

  Alton glanced at his bloody hands. The second? Then he realized Karigan had been the first.

  “Can we leave now?” Alton asked, appalled and exhausted.

  “Indeed,” Merdigen said. “I’ll have some time to think about all this until we reach my tower. Don’t forget Haurris’ stone.” After a pause he added, “And don’t drop me this time.”

  “I did not—” But Merdigen had vanished before Alton could complete his sentence.

  He ground his teeth. It wasn’t fair Merdigen could just disappear when there was something he didn’t want to hear. The mage had the easy end of things, too. Alton checked his shields and braced himself for the lightning that would descend on him the moment he moved.

  He gathered both tempes stones and his sword, and ran for the tower wall with the lightning hammering him all the way. When finally he stumbled outside, he found himself the object of concern and attention from the two women who awaited him. Pleased by their solicitous ministrations, he thought perhaps he’d the better end of the deal after all, especially when Estral shifted her belongings to his tent.

 

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