Tildi stretched out a hand, offering the girl sympathy. Serafina glared at her, and returned to trying to open the double doors. She raised her staff, and red flame rolled from its jewel, outlining them, trying to burn through her mother’s spell. The red light went out almost at once.
“No!” she cried. Rin shook her by the shoulders.
“Accept that she has done it for all of us, silly girl,” the centaur snapped. “Now, hurry! We must not waste the sacrifice! We still need to save all of existence! The thing we must do is up above, not out there!”
Outside, they heard hammering, banging, and the inevitable howl of the Madcloud. Suddenly, a loud wailing noise rose over all and echoed down the ruined valley.
Tildi’s heart went out to Serafina. They both had reason to grieve. She had come to love Edynn. The wizardess had shown her kindness and protected her.
In a moment, she knew that the prophecy that Serafina had worried about for so long had come true. The longing for the book came back in full force, and she felt she had to be with it or die of sorrow. All of the protective wards and spells that Edynn had cast to protect her were gone. She must maintain her own sanity now.
Outside, it was silent except for the roaring of the rain. Serafina pulled herself upright and shrugged off Magpie’s and Rin’s supporting hands. Her face was a mask of grief, but she had no time to mourn. The threat was not gone, nor was their task yet completed. Her hands trembled as they sought for something. Suddenly, she levered her wand at one of the giants that had pursued them inside. A burst of red light brighter than any she had created before burst from it. The stone being wailed as it slumped into a heap of glowing lava.
“Upstairs,” the young wizardess ordered grimly, as the others gawked. “Let us finish this now.”
The great hall was like a huge, hollow box that stretched up at least sixty feet. A flight of marble stairs spiraled around the inner wall and disappeared through the ceiling. Serafina led the way to it, staff and chin held high. The guards flanked Tildi to protect her in the melee going on all around them. The head of a stone giant came flying off and landed with a crash on the floor. Tildi jumped back, but followed resolutely. Not another moment must separate her from the book.
As they neared the staircase, the lowest step picked itself up and stood upright. Teryn and Morag left Tildi’s side to stand between it and the entire company. Being made of marble, this giant was thinner and lighter than the granite beings, but it looked just as menacing.
“Ah, Father,” Lakanta groaned. “Has the man only one idea in his head?”
Serafina didn’t hesitate. “Tildi, flight!”
Tildi snapped out of the daze she was in. She threw off the sodden cloak, and brandished her knife. The words that she had recited so many times on their journey came easily to her. Rin stretched a long arm down and put her on her back. Magpie raced after them and leaped onto the centaur’s back, clinging with his knees.
“You presume much,” Rin said with a snort. But she took a tremendous leap and bounded into the air.
Serafina bespelled the guards and herself. Lakanta jumped up.
“Come on!” she shouted to Tildi. “You’re going to need me! Do I have to go get my horse?”
Tildi pointed the knife at her and chanted the spell again. Lakanta hoisted her skirts in her hands and stumped up the air after them. The first of the stone monsters made a grab for her, but it was too slow.
As they cantered through the air toward the hole in the ceiling, one of the knights bounded up the stairs over the awakening giants. She leaped after them and grabbed onto Magpie’s leg. He hauled her into his lap.
“You’re not going after the book without me,” Inbecca said firmly.
Chapter Thirty-five
It was deadly silent in the room above the hall as Rin’s hooves touched down neatly on the woven carpets that covered the enormous floor. Tildi gazed around her at the fine furnishings, the gloriously colored windows, the polished, painted walls, but her attention was riveted at once by the man who sat in one of the white thrones set in a row, staring at her. He had the bulgy blue eyes she had seen in the stone giants. He felt familiar. Though she had never seen him before, she knew him, but it was not a comfortable feeling. He moved nervously, as if he was going to jump up and attack her, or run away. More important, she knew the object on the altarlike table to his right. It was the Great Book. Tildi breathed. There had never been a more beautiful thing made in the entire history of the world! She began to walk toward it, unable to think of anything but touching it at last. It looked exactly as it had in her vision of the scriptorium where he and his fellow Shining Ones had made it except … except …
“How dare you?” Tildi demanded, halting, tears springing into her eyes at the torn pages, the gaping holes ripped in the perfection of the white parchment. It almost seemed to her to be bleeding into the air around it. She couldn’t see the pieces, nor could she feel them anywhere. “How could you harm it?”
He turned bleary, red-rimmed eyes to her. “I had no choice.” The book’s spindle seemed to rotate in his right hand now. “You do. Leave now. Leave, or I will wipe you out of existence.”
“How could you destroy something that you worked so hard to make?” Tildi demanded. “It took you years of your life! And why did you send the thraik to kill my family? They were simple, hardworking people who never did anything to you at all! Why are you making them attack me? You have the book!”
The face that turned to her was full of pain. “I didn’t send them,” he whispered. “He did. He wants it back. I hear him all the time. I cannot escape him. I hear him now. Do you want to know what he says? ‘Bring it to me.’”
“You did,” Tildi insisted, her hands in fists. “All of my brothers, torn apart by those monsters! You are responsible for the deaths of my whole family!”
“No, Tildi,” Magpie said, over her shoulder. “He didn’t do any of that. This man isn’t one of the Shining Ones.”
“What?” Serafina demanded. “Who is this?”
Magpie laughed bitterly. “It’s our poor, damned, deluded magician, come home to kill himself. Why couldn’t he just drink himself to death on our best brandy? We paid him enough to fill this whole valley with it.”
“Nemeth?” Inbecca asked, in disbelief. “That old fool who ruined you?”
“He didn’t ruin us!” Magpie shouted. “My father did! There, the dire secret’s out.” He tightened his lips. “We’ve all been trying to cover the shame of it for years now.”
Inbecca’s haughty expression vanished, and her blue-green eyes were full of sympathy. “Oh, Eremi, I am sorry.”
The tired eyes of the man in the chair seemed to focus upon the minstrel. “Eremi? You?”
Magpie turned a sincere face to him, and kept his voice low and calm, almost as if he was singing a lullaby. “Yes, me, Eremilandur. We were allies once, Nemeth. Won’t you listen to me?”
“You treated me like a fool! I knew! I told the truth.”
“I know you did. I defended you. Hawarti defended you. My father …” The words clearly cost Magpie an effort, but he got them out. “My father is a fool. He would not listen to anyone, and has to live with his regrets.”
Nemeth sputtered hysterically, “He thinks he can pay for his failures, and send us away, and no one will know.” The pale man leaned forward. “You are different.”
“Yes,” Magpie said, edging smoothly closer to him. “I believed you. But you have a great treasure there.”
“It is mine,” Nemeth said, laying a possessive hand on it. “What I do with it is my business, and no one else’s.”
“Please,” Tildi said, appealing to the wizard. “It doesn’t belong to you. Please, let me take it. It has to go back where it belongs. You don’t know the harm you are causing with it.”
“I do know,” Nemeth said, transferring his insane gaze to her. “It is Soliandur’s punishment for destroying my life. He betrayed me, then humiliated me. I will not stan
d for that.” He lifted his hands, and the book seemed to spin of its own accord. “He should not have made a fool of me before everyone in court! I served him well.”
“But the people who lived on the land you destroyed,” Magpie said, “they didn’t harm you in any way.”
“They belong to him,” Nemeth said. “He cares no more for them than he did for me. He has plenty of peasants.” He spat out the word. The blue eyes gleamed with madness. “I believe it is time to take something he truly prizes. Perhaps the castle itself!”
“Please don’t,” Tildi said, greatly daring. “You could hurt so many people. You must not betray others just because you have felt betrayed.”
The eyes glared at her. “You dare! You who left your past behind, who ran away from offers of honorable marriage? You, who’ve abandoned your modesty. Look at how you dress, smallfolk. You still keep the relics of your past, but you can never go back. The others would be ashamed of you. It is all here!” He slammed his hand down on a page. “What are you doing outside the Quarters, dressed like a boy?”
Tildi felt as if he could see through her to her backbone. Tears sprang to her eyes. All of the progress she had made, the belief in herself that she had built up in the company of wizards and minstrels, crumbled away. She was again a smallfolk girl, defying convention. She would be shunned for this! She bowed her head.
“I had to go. You don’t understand.”
“You are a runaway!”
“A wizard’s apprentice,” Magpie countered, his calm voice over her head.
Nemeth blazed at her. “Stolen! You lied to get where you are. It’s all here.” He pounded the book.
Magpie chimed in. “Then all the things you have done are there, too, Tildi. All that you are is more than a girl from the Quarters. Think. Don’t listen to him. He can read your heart. It’s his gift. He’s using your fears against you. Don’t listen.”
She looked up at the young man. He grinned at her. “You’re even braver than I am. I couldn’t go apprentice for Olen. He’s too conservative for me.”
“Olen. Yes.” The wizard leered at them, a smug, superior smile. “You left to become a spy.” He spun the book to yet another page. “A spy, up to no good. You are tied to this place. I have felt scrutiny from here. They must stop looking at me. I hate being spied upon. Ano chetegh tal!” Fire sprang from his fingertips. Tildi suddenly recognized the sign at his hand. It was Silvertree! He must not burn Silvertree! Beside it was another rune, man, magic, green eyes—Olen! Tildi leaped for the book. Nemeth flicked his fingers, and she went tumbling backward, struck by an invisible fist. Teryn picked her up and set her on her feet. Tildi felt her bruised cheek. The book—she must save Olen! She raced toward the man in the chair. The captain and Morag lifted her off her feet and held her back.
Magpie waved his arms, trying to attract the wizard’s attention. “Nemeth, stop!” he shouted. “Leave them alone! They’re not the reason you’re angry.”
“No,” Nemeth boomed, pausing and turning his full gaze upon Magpie, as the flames burned in his hand. The lightning outside seemed to echo his word. “It is Soliandur. You, you are his flesh and blood! He will see how I take my vengeance.”
He thrust out a burning finger and began to draw in the air. Magpie began to protest, but his words were cut off. He fell to his knees. To Tildi’s horror, a rune overlay Magpie’s. His hands thickened until his fingers disappeared in pads of flesh. The young man’s narrow face lengthened, and his teeth curled out like tusks. Magpie cried out. Knobs of bone punched through the fabric along his spine, and his rib cage shrank until his breaths came in pants, starved for lung capacity. He lay on the floor moaning. Nemeth drew himself up. “I will do the same thing to Soliandur. He will suffer before he dies.”
Tildi stared at him. She was horrified at the transformation, but not as much as Teryn and Morag.
“You!” Teryn exclaimed, gazing at the wizard in the chair. “You’re responsible for killing my soldiers!”
Morag, his eyes glowing blue with madness, leaped for Nemeth. He almost reached the wizard, but Nemeth threw the handful of fire at him. Morag dropped to the floor and rolled to one side, avoiding the flames. Teryn closed in on him, too, thrusting at him with her sword. Nemeth created more fire, and threw it at her. She dodged and kept coming. Nemeth seemed to panic. He seized the book.
“Do not come near me! I will burn all of Orontae at once!” he cried. “Rabantae will be next!” The soldiers froze. The book spun again, until it revealed a page with one huge rune on it. He took hold of the edge of the page.
Tildi could not let him harm the book again.
She ran toward him, reaching for the book. Nemeth whipped his hands upward, and a circle of flame appeared around his throne. Tildi wind-milled to a halt, surrounded by a dancing fire that moved outward. The soldiers retreated. If it touched her, it would destroy her. The book needed her.
Though Edynn was gone, she seemed to feel the wizardess with her still. She knew, too, that she was Teldo’s sister, not just a faithless wretch who had run away. She was Olen’s student, Magpie’s friend, and Edynn’s apprentice. Those thoughts gave her confidence. She reached deep into herself and made the wards that Olen had taught her.
“Fornai chnetegh voshad!” The silver lace formed stronger than she had ever managed to make it. The flames had no chance against the protection spell, and broke apart. She glanced back at Serafina, who smiled at her and urged her forward. The young woman aimed her staff at the wizard, and a bloom of red fire flew at Nemeth. He batted at it, and it dissipated. Serafina kept the barrage up, moving closer. The others followed, closing inexorably inward toward the thief.
“So you are a wizard,” he said furiously. “A wizard and a spy! I am beset by enemies! You shall not take the book from me!” He created handful after handful of fire, his movements growing ever more wild. Flames flew everywhere.
The shield protected Tildi. The tapestries over his head were burning, now, and the rugs were smoldering. Rin let out a loud bellow as a gout of flame landed on her mane. She beat it out, and charged at Nemeth, blood in her eye. The wizard cringed, snatching the book off the table and holding it to his chest. He reached out at her, his fingers twisting.
“Voshte!” Serafina cried. Silver lines wound themselves around Rin, covering the rune.
“That will not stop me,” Nemeth barked. He started to wind through the pages. He must be looking for Rin’s rune. He would kill or deform her, the way he had done to Magpie, the way he had harmed Morag and Teryn’s soldiers. She must take the book from him so no one else would get hurt.
Morag hefted his polearm, and threw it at Nemeth. The wizard shrieked as it struck the wooden throne above his head. He clapped the book shut on the page he was perusing, and threw more gouts of flame at the oncoming soldiers.
“I must … I must stop you,” he muttered. “The book is mine. It’s mine!”
Rin reared up and battered at Nemeth with her forelegs and snapped at him with her whip. The lash struck him across the face. He fell back, his forehead bleeding. He flung up both hands, and Rin tumbled backward. Lakanta and Teryn closed in from both sides. Nemeth sent them flying, too. They rose up and charged him again. He rolled up the book, and gathered himself, as if preparing to leap out of his seat. He tucked the book under one arm. Serafina moved from side to side, covering him as if with a crossbow. Nemeth watched her eyes, poised to spring as soon as he could. Teryn took him by surprise, bounding forward with her sword on high. She chopped down. Nemeth shrieked. Blood spurted from his shoulder. He waved both arms, and Teryn flew backward helplessly until she struck the wall. She slid down bonelessly. Morag went to her rescue. Serafina fired another blast of red fire at him.
Tildi saw her opportunity. She rushed toward the wizard, arms out. He met her charge with an outstretched hand.
“Not so fast, little one,” he hissed. Tildi danced to a halt. With a sick feeling she knew what he meant to do. He was going to alter her rune, as he h
ad poor Magpie. He must not!
“Ano chnetegh tal!” she cried. The green flames sprang into being. She threw her fire at Nemeth. He flicked his fingers, and the flames curled into his palm. Instead of sending it back at her, he shrieked. The green demon-fire refused to leave his hand. It clung to his skin. He shook his arm, hoping to make it fall, but succeeded only in spreading it to the hangings on the wall. Tildi feared for the book. It must not be harmed!
She sprang forward and grabbed hold of a corner of it. The parchment burned horribly in her grasp, like the first time that she had touched the leaf, but many times worse. She wondered if she would die from it, wondered if her limbs were withering like Halcot’s hands. She must prevent it. Go past the pain, she told herself. It’s no worse than a scald from a cooking pot, even though her teeth were clenched so hard she feared she would break them. With an act of will, she took hold with her other hand. Both curled with agony, but she would not let go. She had the book at last!
Nemeth wailed as his precious book slid away. He must get it back! He had only one hand to use now, for the green fire would destroy it. He held fast to the spindle, chanting the spell to surround the small female with a ring of fire that would consume her. He would take the book as she burned to death. The spindle slipped out of his fingers, out of his reach. The little girl turned to crawl away from him. He threw himself after her and seized her foot. The boot came off in his hand, and he found himself looking at the strange, toeless little foot of his vision. At that moment he knew he was doomed.
“Give it back to me!” he bellowed, as the book disappeared into the web of flames that surrounded him.
Tildi defied him. She wrapped herself around the scroll and huddled over it, holding to a patch of bare floor. She sensed that the book hurt, too, from having been torn by Nemeth. It wasn’t exactly intelligent, but it was alive. They soothed each other in the midst of the battle. She was no longer hungry, thirsty, or tired. She had the book. It made her feel profoundly happy in spite of the pain.
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