Andrew slammed his fist on the table. “I hate this! I hate having to fight our own people.”
“I know, but they’re not our people anymore. They chose a different master. It’s a waste of resources and talent, but they’re the enemy now and we must think of them as such.”
“Yeah, but I don’t have to like it. How long will it take Damien to find this scholar?”
Lidia only half heard him. Several sorcerers were approaching at high speed. It wasn’t Damien and Imogen, they’d barely left. No one else knew where the sanctuary was, so who was it?
“Lidia? Are you still with me?”
“Yes. There are sorcerers approaching. At least three and maybe more. I fear we’re about to be attacked.”
Andrew was on his feet in an instant. “How could they have found us?”
Lidia’s lips twisted in a frown. “A spy bug probably followed Imogen and I from the Tower. Their soul force signature is so small I wouldn’t have noticed unless it literally landed on my robe. Despite Thomas’s assurances, it seems rats have infested his house.”
“Are you sure he isn’t the rat?” Andrew asked.
Lidia shrugged. “As sure as I can be about anyone outside our immediate group.”
The sorcerers were directly above them now. She sensed four, none of them a match for her one on one, but together they could give her a run for her money.
Would they try and breach the entrance or just collapse the place on them? Lidia hoped for the first since she could kill them one at a time as they entered.
“Lidia?”
The first explosion shook the sanctuary. “Looks like they’re planning to bury us alive. To the safe room, quick.”
Andrew led the way down a short hall that ended in a heavy steel door. Dirt fell from the ceiling as more blasts rocked them.
He heaved it open and they went in. The safe room was really just a reinforced steel box with an air vent that ran half a mile underground before emerging in the center of a clump of boulders.
With her sorcery to reinforce it, the box was strong enough to withstand just about anything sorcerers of the attackers’ power could throw at them. Lidia conjured a message sphere, shaped it to form a single word when it reached Damien, and launched it down the vent.
“What was that?” Andrew asked.
“An SOS. Let’s hope he gets it before they get to us.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The golden orb streaking through the frigid air exploded five feet from Damien, the shards of soul force forming a single word. “Help.” If his master didn’t even have time to write a proper scroll, then things must be really bad. Heaven’s mercy, he never should have left the sanctuary. It had seemed safe enough at the time, after all, no one knew where it was.
“Keep looking for Mariela,” Damien said. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“No time.”
He prepared to leap into the air when Imogen grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. “Don’t you think I can keep up?”
Damien favored her with his gentlest smile. “Not tonight.”
He shot into the sky, drew deep from his core, and blasted south. The countryside became a blur around him.
Damien flew faster than he ever had, holding none of his power in reserve. If there was a fight, he had Lizzy’s power to back him up.
Ten minutes later he spotted streaks of gold raining down from the sky. The enemy sorcerers were trying to collapse the sanctuary tunnels.
He reached back and pulled Lizzy from her sheath. Demonic soul force crackled around her blade like gray lightning. She picked up his anger and fed on it.
The sorcerers finally noticed him, not that it would do them any good.
He slashed Lizzy, releasing her power at the same time.
Three of the sorcerers were pierced through the chest, their personal shields as effective as cloth against Damien and Lizzy’s combined power.
The fourth tried to flee, but Damien lashed out, wrapping his core in a barrier and sending him hurtling to the torn-up earth. He landed hard, bounced, and lay still.
Soul force still swirled through his body. He survived, though when the archmage got finished questioning him he might wish Damien had killed him outright.
With the immediate threat dealt with, Damien turned his focus downward. Uncle Andy and his master had to be under there somewhere. He slowed his breathing and closed his eyes to better focus.
Where are you, Master?
He walked slowly across the uneven ground. The sorcerers had done a real job on the place. In some places five-foot-deep gouges had been blasted out of the earth.
Damien stopped. There they were, thank goodness both felt alive. He conjured a giant shovel and started digging. Three scoops later his construct hit something solid.
The shovel vanished revealing a flat sheet of metal. Damien frowned, sliced a circle out of it with Lizzy, and tossed the disk away. Uncle Andy and the archmage stared up at him, their faces streaked with sweat, but otherwise none the worse for wear.
“You called?” He grinned, sheathed Lizzy, and extended a hand.
His master let him help her up and out, a sign of just how much power she had to use to keep the box from collapsing. Once she was out of the way, Uncle Andy gathered himself and leapt through the opening, landing easily a little ways away.
“Good timing as always, Damien.” Uncle Andy brushed himself off and glared around at the mess.
“I kept one of them alive if you have questions,” Damien said.
His master narrowed her eyes. “Where?”
Damien nodded toward the fallen sorcerer and they all walked over. He was still unconscious and from the way his legs bent, wouldn’t be walking anywhere anytime soon.
A thin beam of soul force shot from his master’s finger and slammed into the unconscious sorcerer’s left ear. He sat up and screamed.
Terrified green eyes darted from the archmage, to the king, to Damien, and back again. The sorcerer was about twenty, with a round baby face, short dark hair, and thin lips. He wasn’t a sorcerer Damien had met before, but then he didn’t socialize much.
The prisoner focused on Uncle Andy and thrust out a hand. Nothing happened since Damien still had his core blocked.
The archmage ignored the gesture and said, “I have questions. You will answer them. Refuse…”
Her golden lance shot out again, this time grinding into his broken leg. The sorcerer howled and clutched his knee.
“I see we understand each other. Let’s start with your name and who sent you?”
“Zaire, and my master, the Binder in Chains, sent me.”
The archmage shook her head. “The first I believe the second not so much. I doubt a fallen archangel halfway around the world is directing everything you people do. Try again.”
“He directs all through his followers. The hierarchy controls everything so we have order. Why can’t you understand? All our master wants is for the world to have order. If you would submit yourselves to his rule, your deaths would not be necessary.”
Zaire spoke with the breathless enthusiasm of a true believer. Damien shook his head at the man’s eagerness to enslave himself. If all the Binder’s followers were equally devoted to his cause, this would end up being a harder fight than he’d hoped.
Zaire’s pained howl cut off Damien’s train of thought.
“I’m not interested in your corrupt philosophy,” the archmage said. “Who ordered you to follow me and attack the sanctuary?”
“Our orders come from the capital. I don’t know who sends them, I swear.”
“Better.” The archmage glared at him. “Were you four the only Binder worshipers at the Tower?”
“Yes.”
“What are the Binder’s followers planning?”
“I don’t know the details.” Zaire flinched as if expecting another blast. When it didn’t come he continued. “I’m only one step above the bottom
of the hierarchy. I follow orders, I don’t ask questions.”
The archmage turned to Uncle Andy. “I doubt we’ll get anything more useful out of him.”
Uncle Andy nodded and moved to stand directly in front of Zaire. “You are a traitor to the crown and your country. The punishment is death. Damien.”
The king stepped aside and Damien took his place, Lizzy bare in his hand.
“Wai—”
His head hit the ground with a wet plop. A flick of Damien’s wrist shook a few drops of blood from Lizzy’s blade before he sheathed her.
“So what now?” Damien asked.
“We need a new base,” the king said. “Suggestions?”
“Sounds like the Tower is secure now,” Damien said.
“No, that idiot didn’t know enough to be sure,” the archmage said. “The last thing we need is to end up somewhere surrounded by potential enemies, all of whom are sorcerers. What about an inn? A simple illusion would disguise Andrew and no one would think to look for us somewhere so out in the open.”
“I like it,” Uncle Andy said. “Which one?”
Damien pointed northeast. “Imogen and I flew over one about five miles that way. I doubt you’ll find anything closer. Speaking of which, I should rejoin her.”
“Be quick,” the archmage said. “And on your way let Al Elan know we’ve moved. He can tell Jennifer. We’ll meet up at the inn when you’ve both finished your missions.”
Damien frowned. “I hadn’t thought about Jen. If she’s on the run with Karrie and the queen, do we really want her leading an army of Binder worshipers to an inn filled with innocent people?”
“Good point.” Uncle Andy ran his hands through his hair. “Tell them to keep their distance until they shake off pursuit. Once they’re in the clear, have Al Elan contact Lidia. That ghost power of his allows that, right?”
“I think so.” Damien wasn’t exactly an expert on Al Elan’s power, but from everything he’d seen contacting the archmage should be simple enough for him. “Did any paper survive the attack? If he’s out of body when I show up, I’ll need to leave a message.”
“No, you’ll have to improvise,” his master said. “And do it quickly. It feels like things are spinning out of control.”
Damien knew exactly what she meant. Hopefully Jen was okay.
Chapter Thirty
Qang led the way out of Hood’s tavern. Binder glanced one more time over his shoulder. Leaving the ax behind didn’t sit well with him, but he had no choice for the moment. Being helpless wasn’t something he dealt with often, even over such a relatively minor issue. Binder firmly believed that with his power, he should be able to resolve any situation. Foolish and arrogant the other archangels had called him. Perhaps they had a point.
While Binder might not be able to solve the riddle of the ax, he could certainly deal with a bunch of humans with too high an opinion of themselves.
They’d barely gone three blocks when he sensed a familiar presence behind them. He caught a glimpse of Teng hiding behind a rain barrel. He sighed and kept going. The girl kept pace for a couple more blocks.
Finally Binder stopped and turned. “Why are you following us?”
Teng slunk out of an alley. “Got nothing better to do. Thought maybe you could use some help.”
Binder nearly laughed aloud at the suggestion. Still, the girl seemed harmless. “If you wish to join us, then walk up here at my side. I won’t have my people cowering like common criminals in alleys.”
Teng scurried out and ran over, taking up position at his left elbow. He would take her as his valet, show the world how high a street urchin could rise in his new world. She would serve as an example, just as those who opposed him would serve as examples in their own way.
The trio gradually moved from the working class part of town to the wealthy part. Groups dressed in fine silk and dripping with gold stared at Binder and his entourage. Or perhaps it was his wings that drew the stares. Either way he didn’t care. Let them look on their new master, even if they didn’t know it yet. Soon enough everyone would know.
Qang stopped outside an iron gate that opened into a manicured front lawn. Beyond the lawn waited a mansion painted red and green with gold dragon downspouts. No guards were visible, but Binder sensed far more people inside than the merchant lords. Part of him hoped they tried to stop him. After the attempt on his life, he was eager to demonstrate the folly of opposition.
“Who’d have guessed they were hiding in my own house?” Qang shook his head. “No manners at all.”
“What do you mean, your house?” Binder asked.
“This is the lord mayor’s residence. The council chamber is in the center of the building. The lords consider it neutral ground so the monthly meetings are held here. I can’t believe they’d have the nerve.”
“Wait here, Teng,” Binder said.
“Me too?” Qang asked.
“No. I need you to point out Wei.”
Qang’s face fell. “Of course.”
“I want to come,” Teng said.
“I’m sure she knows what Wei looks like,” Qang added, hopeful once again. The miserable coward.
“What I’m going to do isn’t for a child’s eyes.”
Teng laughed. “You can’t imagine what I’ve seen living on the streets and working for Jet. I doubt you could do anything to shock me.”
She was probably right, but just because she’d seen horrors didn’t mean she should have to witness more. Besides, this would be a good first lesson in obedience. She’d need to learn it if she wanted to serve him.
“Stay. Here.” Binder strode away with Qang at his heels.
A short flight of stairs led to a wraparound porch decorated with a line of painted chairs, all in perfect condition like no one ever sat in them. A pair of ten-foot-tall double doors warded the entrance to the mansion. Immediately beyond them waited two people, both powerful warlords.
“Will the guards obey you and stand down?” Binder asked. He didn’t want to use up any more resources if he could help it.
“No one does anything I say,” Qang said. “I’m a figurehead, nothing more. I told you that already.”
“Even your guards ignore you. That’s rather pathetic.”
Qang shrugged. “The guards’ job is to keep an eye on me for the lords. If they happen to kill someone wanting to hurt me that’s a bonus.”
“Their disregard doesn’t bother you?”
Qang gestured at the mansion. “Look around. I live in the nicest house in the city, have servants to wait on me, and no responsibilities beyond letting the lords meet in my dining room once a month. How is that not the perfect job?”
“It seems we shall agree to disagree.”
Binder gestured and the doors swung open. The two warlords, a man and a woman dressed in jade uniforms and armed with curved, single-edged swords, swung into place, blocking their advance.
“Withdraw if you wish to live,” the woman said.
“I was about to say that very thing,” Binder countered.
The guards accelerated as one and attacked.
Powerful as they were, Binder saw their every move. The instant they closed, his hands shot out, catching them each by the throat and lifting them off the ground.
The blades slashed at his flesh without penetrating. Mortal weapons, even ones as fine as these, couldn’t harm him. Only something imbued with divine power like Hood’s ax was a danger to Binder.
He shook them like a terrier with a rat until they went still. “Hear me well. You serve your masters with loyalty and honor. I prize both those qualities. The merchant lords’ time ruling this city is at an end. If you wish to die for your masters, I will grant that wish, but if you want to continue serving the empire, drop your weapons and pledge yourselves to me.”
A moment of pregnant silence was followed by swords clanging to the floor. He released the guards and they both took a knee before him.
“Good. Are there any more warrio
rs I need to worry about?”
“Archers line the balcony overlooking the council chamber,” the man said. “They aren’t warlords, but you will find no finer shots in the empire.”
He nodded. Archers didn’t concern Binder in the least. “Remain here. I will return when my business is complete.”
Both lowered their gaze as he passed between them. Those two would serve him well. He might even make the woman a knight to replace his fallen worshiper.
Qang resumed his duties as guide and directed Binder down a long hall lined with paintings of men far too perfect to be accurate. Each painting had a brass plaque under it engraved with a name.
“My predecessors,” Qang said when he noticed Binder looking. “Every lord mayor since the capital’s founding. Originally, this hall’s purpose was to intimidate petitioners with the long history of the position. Now it serves as a reminder of how meaningless the job has become.”
At the end of the hall of mayors waited another set of doors, these painted red with gold pulls.
“This is it?” Binder asked.
“It is. Beyond that door are the most powerful men and women in the city. I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to meet you.”
“Stay here while I deal with the archers,” Binder said.
Qang offered no argument, as expected. Binder pushed on the doors but found them locked. He leaned into them, while enhancing his strength with divine soul force. Something cracked then the doors swung in.
The council room was a surprisingly bare chamber with a massive, round table in the center. Six people, four men and two women, sat in straight-backed wooden chairs. They all stared at Binder like he was nothing more than an ill-timed servant carrying a tray of cheap wine.
A second after he entered, arrows rained down on him. Binder glanced up at the ten bowmen working their worthless weapons as fast as their hands could pull arrows from quivers. He could have killed them all with a thought, but he simply stood under the storm of arrows and waited until they ran out of ammunition.
He took a step deeper into the council chamber, spent arrows crunching under his feet. “Qang. Which one is he?”
On Blackened Wings Page 12
