by A. C. Cobble
“You’re sure?” asked O’ecca.
“Impossible!” argued Chesson.
Ben nodded tersely. “Those men who poured in through the gate are all wearing his armor. Either they are his men, or someone wants the emperor to think they are.”
“They are his men,” declared O’ecca. “I see what is happening now. The Red Lord didn’t come here to accept chastisement from the emperor. He came as an excuse to bring his men into the city. The assault on my father’s towns, everything else we’ve heard, it was part of a plan. He’s been staging this for years. It’s a coup.”
“He was in Saala’s band, didn’t you say?” asked Amelie. “It’s the same plan Saala was accused of plotting that the emperor foiled with the Red Lord’s help.”
A heavy body slammed into the door and the iron bolt rattled.
“Can we discuss this later?” suggested Ben.
There was a staircase that spiraled up into the tower and a broad hallway that led deeper into the palace. Neither one offered an obvious advantage.
“Where to?” Rhys asked Chesson.
“I-I, uh, if we go down the hall we can reach my father’s throne room,” stammered the fop. “That’s where he and his guards will be.”
“Up the stairs then,” stated Rhys.
“But—” Chesson started to object.
Rhys grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and propelled him up the stairs. “Your father’s throne room is also where the Red Lord’s men will be headed. Some of them may already be there, and more are coming from behind. We’d be trapped between them.”
The young man held his tongue as they jogged up the stairs.
For three flights, they found hallways leading deeper into the palace and rooms on the exterior of the tower. The rooms were wide open and designed for entertaining large parties of guests. They offered little defensive advantage.
On the fourth floor, Rhys paused. The tower room was like the others, and a similar hallway led into the palace. The stairs above them narrowed considerably. The decorative touches vanished as well.
“What’s on this floor?” Rhys asked Chesson, glancing down the hallway.
“Guest apartments,” mumbled the emperor’s son. “They’re set high to catch the sea breeze. My father…”
Rhys cut him off. “The Red Lord’s men will be focused on the first floor, but if he’s guesting here, we run a high chance of encountering his men or his allies. Also, they could be looking to secure any valuable guests for ransom.”
The rogue looked up the stairs.
“What is up there?” he asked. “Your man thought we should hide in the tower.”
Chesson shrugged. “I’ve never been that way.”
Rhys snorted then started up the stairs. Whatever was up there, they would have to hope the Red Lord’s men didn’t think it was important either.
They passed one floor which looked to be storage for linens, clothing, and chamber pots. The next floor held a simple kitchen. Water was boiling on a wood-burning stove, but no one was visible.
Beyond the kitchen, they found a thick door that spanned the stairwell. It hung open, so they filed through.
On the other side, Rhys and Ben both tugged to pull it shut. The hinges screeched with disuse. When they finally got it shut, Ben slid a bolt thicker than his wrist through a hasp in the door and into the stone wall.
“Chesson’s man was right,” admitted Rhys. “We could hold this thing for days.”
“We don’t have any food on this side,” mentioned Amelie.
“I wasn’t saying we should, just that we could,” replied Rhys.
They passed another floor which held an empty guard room. There were racks of weapons on the wall, tables where men could spend their time playing cards or bones, and narrow windows they could fire arrows from. The place was prepared to stage a defense, but like the kitchen below, it was abandoned.
They headed higher, Rhys in the lead. Then they paused.
“Karina, you’d better come see this,” Rhys called from around a bend in the stairwell.
The mage had been bringing up the rear of the party. She slipped around the rest of them to join Rhys at the front.
“What is it?” called Ben. “We should keep going.”
He was listening to the sounds of armed men moving around somewhere below them.
“It’s warded,” hissed Amelie.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” protested Ben. “There aren’t any mages in Ooswam.”
Rhys whispered back, “Let’s go quickly but silently as you can manage. Something above these stairs is not meant to be found.”
They trotted quietly up the stairs. They rounded one bend, and Ben saw the fading glow of runes on the wall. Shimmering silver faded into the dark stone. Ben swallowed. Amelie was right. He grimaced and kept going. Around the next turn, he found a solid stone wall spanning the stairwell. Rhys and Towaal had vanished.
He glanced down at Amelie and saw her looking at him wide-eyed.
“Come on,” hissed Rhys.
Ben jumped. The rogue was nowhere to be seen.
A boot slid out of the stone wall and settled on the top step.
“It’s a light shield,” muttered Amelie.
“Like we used on the ship!” exclaimed Ben.
The rogue’s head slid through the barrier. His body seemed to be leaning out of solid stone. He growled, “We don’t have time for this. Get up here.”
Swallowing, Ben raised a hand and watched as it passed into the stone. He felt nothing but air. He walked through and found himself on a stairwell just like the one below.
“The skill it would take to form a barrier like that which holds up under close scrutiny is unprecedented,” declared Towaal. “Be ready for anything.”
They continued up two more flights, Rhys edging around them to retake the lead. Towaal followed close behind, clearly prepared to launch an attack at whatever they found.
At the top of the stairs, they stopped again. Ben peered between Towaal and Rhys at another door. This one was fashioned of pale wood. In the center was the copper face of an old woman. The face was friendly, but the eyes held a mischievous look, like it had been waiting for them.
The door opened and a young girl looked down at them.
“Hello, Rhys. It’s been a long time.” She paused. “You’ve gotten older. Have you been getting yourself into trouble?”
Ben watched his friend’s back. The rogue was tense, like he was prepared to attack. The tip of his sword raised, then it dropped. His shoulders slumped.
“Hello, Lady Avril.”
The girl rolled her eyes. “No one calls me a lady anymore, not that I ever was one. You know that, Rhys. Now, I am being rude. Bring your friends and come inside.”
The girl turned and disappeared through the door.
Ben met Amelie’s eyes and saw the fear reflected in her look. Lady Avril, the former Veil. Supposedly dead for over three hundred years. Not anymore.
Nervously, the companions followed her through the door.
They found themselves in a small, elegant chamber. A curtain obscured a bed on one side of the room, and a small table with a single chair rested against the other. In the middle, the stone floor was covered in a plush rug and comfortable-looking chairs. Books and an odd assortment of devices sat scattered across every flat surface. Near one window, Ben spied an onyx table like a smaller version of the one they’d found in the Wilds for far-seeing. Even to a layman’s eye, the room was filled with a wealth of magical devices.
“Who are you?” demanded Chesson, drawing up to his full height.
Avril looked at the young lord. “I am an advisor to your father.”
Chesson snorted. “I know all of my father’s advisors, and you are not one. His concubine, perhaps. Did he give you all of this? If you’re not in the quarters with the rest of his harem, then you must be quite the roll.”
Avril smirked and turned to the rest of the group. “We’ll have to kil
l him.”
Ben blinked. Lady Avril looked to be no more than sixteen or seventeen summers. Blond hair, blue eyes, red lips, a simple white tunic with blue skirts. As she declared Chesson’s death sentence, she looked as innocent as any girl from Farview discussing whether they should bake cookies or a cake.
The former Veil looked at O’ecca. “Her too.”
O’ecca dropped into a fighting stance, her naginata held ready in front of her.
Avril flicked her wrist. A tight burst of air smacked O’ecca across the room. Her weapon went spinning and she crashed into the wall, slumping to the ground. Another blast of air whipped Chesson’s head around. A sharp crack filled the room, and Chesson fell lifelessly to the floor.
Towaal and Amelie both raised their hands, prepared to attack, but Rhys held up a hand.
“Wait.”
Lady Avril raised an eyebrow at him.
He glared at her. “You could flee instead of killing them.”
She smiled sweetly. “I do not see how that is advantageous for me.”
“I need this girl,” stated Rhys.
“I am sure you do, but I do not,” responded Avril. She placed her hands on her hips and tilted her head. “Even when we worked together, we were never friends. I wouldn’t have helped you then. Why do you think I will now?”
“I don’t need your help. I’m only asking you to refrain from killing this girl.”
Avril started tapping one of her fingers on her hip. “And?”
“We have a common cause,” suggested Rhys. “You need us.”
“I do?” asked Avril, her lips forming an oval of mock surprise.
“You need us to defeat the Veil,” pressed Rhys.
Avril studied them, her fingers tapping a quick rhythm. “Where is Gunther? He is the one I need, along with the staff you took. I watched you leave the Purple’s fortress. You had the staff, but not the mage. Now you have neither. Where is it, and where is he?”
“He took the staff on a mission for us,” lied Rhys. “Without our help, you will never find him.”
Avril snorted and crossed her arms.
“You know that is the truth, or you would have already found him. He slipped by you, and he will continue to do so. We can help,” pleaded Rhys. “You’ve been plotting against the Veil for a long time. She is still there, and you are still in hiding. You were outmaneuvered all of those years ago, and from what I see in this room, nothing has changed. You need the staff, you need Gunther, and you need us to get them.”
“You have no idea what I have been doing these years,” declared Avril. “I’ve been busy.”
“You need her too if you want to stay in Ooswam,” said Ben, pointing to the unconscious O’ecca. “She is the answer to the Red Lord and the demons. When the Red Lord is defeated, she can convince the emperor to raise his army and stand against the demons. If he doesn’t, your tower will be overrun just like the rest of Shamiil. Unless you have another plan for the demons that is.”
Ben watched the former Veil. Since they arrived, her face had been expressive like a canvas she painted her thoughts on. Now, it was blank. He’d surprised her.
“You don’t know about the demons, do you?” asked Ben.
Avril pursed her lips. She sighed dramatically. “Very well. Tell me about the demons.”
“Hundreds of them,” responded Ben. “Maybe thousands. The Purple was building an army of them. They kept them in the tunnels below the fortress. We destroyed the Purple, but the demons were released. They’ll come here next.”
Avril took a step toward her far-seeing table then paused. She looked to Rhys, frowning.
He nodded confirmation.
“Maybe you can survive an attack by several hundred demons,” continued Ben, “but Shamiil cannot if the city is unprepared. To stop them, if you even have the ability, you would have to use enough power that even the mages in Alcott would feel it.”
“She doesn’t have the strength to stand against hundreds of demons alone,” declared Rhys.
“Are you sure about that?” snapped Avril.
He stared at her. “I am.”
Lady Avril set her hands on her hips and frowned around the room.
Finally, she admitted, “You are right. I cannot stand against so many of those creatures. Where is Gunther? If he is still in the fortress, why is he not stopping them? He could stand against a hundred demons with that hammer of his.”
“I told you, he’s on other business,” responded Rhys.
Avril’s frown turned into a glare.
“We plan to confront the Veil,” said Ben. “Will you help us?”
“I will not.” She paused. Her full red lips pressed together. “I will not hinder you though, either.”
“Can you heal her?” Ben asked, kneeling beside O’ecca. “Let’s call it a sign of good faith.”
Lady Avril knelt beside O’ecca. “Haven’t you heard? Mages don’t help out of good faith, we always get our due. What will you offer me, young man?”
“When the time comes, we’ll help you against the Veil,” said Ben. “You have my word.”
“Your word,” smirked Avril. “What kind of currency is that? Tell me where Gunther is, and I will heal the girl.”
Ben stared back at her impassively.
“He has a task that is too important to be thwarted by your meddling, no matter the consequences for us,” claimed Rhys. “We will not tell you where he is now, or ever, if we cannot remain friendly.”
Finally, Lady Avril acquiesced. “I will heal the girl. The boy was dead the instant I struck him. Not even I can do anything about that.”
“What are we supposed to tell his father?” muttered Ben, glancing at Chesson’s dead body. “He was meeting with us right before the attack. It will be well known within the palace.”
“I won’t matter if you don’t do something about the Red Lord,” advised Avril, standing from where she’d been working on O’ecca. “I suggest you deal with that situation quickly if that is your intention. I will let you go, but when the time comes, I will hold you to your word. You will not have to wait long, but I warn you, do not cross me, boy.”
Ben nodded uncomfortably.
O’ecca blinked and groaned.
“You should be regaining energy quickly,” the mage told the girl. “I boosted your natural reserves. Within a day or two, it will dissipate. You will feel very weak. During that time, do not overextend yourself.”
Ben reached down and helped O’ecca to her feet. She stared at Chesson’s prone body.
“He didn’t deserve that,” she accused Lady Avril.
Avril smiled coldly. “There is only one person who I care gets what they deserve.”
O’ecca scooped up her naginata and glared murderously at the former Veil.
“Care to try your luck again, girl?” asked Avril.
O’ecca shook her head.
“The emperor is aware I am here,” continued Avril, “but he does not know my nature. He thinks I am a scholar of sorts. I did not lie when I said I am his advisor. I would like it to stay that way. I’m willing to let you go as long as it remains beneficial to me. If I feel you are becoming too talkative or becoming a risk, I will kill you as easily as I did that fool Chesson. Understand you cannot harm me. You could only die trying. Depending on how spectacular your death is, it may inconvenience me.”
O’ecca turned from the mage, refusing to make eye contact with her.
Turning to Rhys, Avril instructed, “Make sure she understands, or we’ve wasted our time discussing her fate.”
“I will,” agreed Rhys.
“Go now,” said Avril. “The Red Lord’s men converged on the emperor’s throne room, but he was not there. The Red Lord is now trying to find him in the harem quarters. The emperor is not there either, so the Red Lord will not stay long. The hallways are clear, but I cannot promise they will remain so.”
Rhys nodded to Avril and turned to go, waving the rest of the party after him.
> Ben heard Avril make one last comment as he followed Rhys down the stairs.
“Do not think I didn’t recognize you, Karina Towaal. I remember you as a brash, undisciplined initiate. Nothing seems to have changed.”
“I remember you as an arrogant woman who constantly thought too much of herself and underestimated those around her,” rejoined Towaal. “I guess that’s two of us who haven’t changed.”
Avril laughed a delicate, tinkling titter. “Maybe you are right, or maybe I have changed. I cannot defeat the Veil alone. I have realized that. I’ve set the stage for her downfall, though, and many people will have a role to play. Be ready when it is your turn.”
Towaal didn’t respond. Ben heard her coming down the steps behind them.
“That was weird,” remarked Ben.
Rhys grunted.
“What if she finds out where Gunther is?” asked Amelie.
“Assume that woman can hear every word we say until we’re out of this compound,” instructed Rhys.
They fell silent after that.
“What happened up there?” asked O’ecca finally. “All I can remember is that one moment the woman was threatening my life. Then, the next I wake up, and she’s kneeling next to me. I saw Chesson. She killed him after she attacked me, didn’t she? Who is that woman?”
“She’s a bad memory,” answered Rhys.
“She acted like she knew you,” mentioned Ben.
“She used to,” acknowledged the rogue.
Before he could elaborate, they made it to the palace levels of the tower and found a man standing near the foot of the stairs. He had black armor with the red stripe of the Red Lord’s men painted on his chest.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
Rhys responded by pounding his fist into the unsuspecting man’s face.
The guard collapsed on the stone floor.
Rhys grimaced and shook his hand before drawing his long knives. He winked at Ben. “It’s easier with these. If that man’s head was any harder, I could have broken a knuckle.”
“This place is swarming with the Red Lord’s men,” said Ben, ignoring his friend’s attempt at humor. “How are we supposed to protect the emperor from them?”
“You kill a snake by cutting off the head,” declared O’ecca. “We don’t need to battle every one of his men. We just need to find the head of the snake.”
