by C. Greenwood
Geveral was very aware of Keir hovering in the corner, listening.
“The ‘dragonkin’ boy has a name,” he said, although he knew he was wasting his breath. The oracle wasn’t fond of names. She had never seen fit even to share her own. He continued, “And I assume you brought us to illustrate your point to those whose support you would have. I am, after all, one of the catalysts. And no one could look at Keir as he is now and not believe in the power of Eydis’s magic.”
The oracle waved a dismissive hand. “That may be so. But I have a better use for you. I have seen from the beginning the possibility that I would fail to gather the necessary forces. I protected myself against that eventuality by keeping you both close. In a vision, I was presented with a scene of the two of you in a dragonkin stronghold at the far side of the Arxus Mountains. You will fly there to summon a people called the Drejian. Together with the dragons they command, they will fight as mercenaries for us at Endguard. Use my gold, and Keir, to persuade them.”
Geveral struggled to take in this swift change in plans. “Keir? How is he supposed to persuade the Drejian to fight for us?” Geveral asked.
“The oracle has seen truly,” Keir cut in for the first time. “My presence will be persuasive to the Drejian. The eternal voices still guide me. Even now, they speak in my head and tell me I must fly across the mountains to the place of my birth.”
There was nothing Geveral could say to argue with that. But privately he wondered if it might not be the friendly voices of old that counseled Keir now. In his new form, his being mingled with that of the evil shadow monster, how could they be sure his internal guidance came from forces of good and not from Rathnakar himself? And even if it was not Rathnakar’s voice Keir heard now, hadn’t those original voices he trusted so much once steered him toward his death?
But one glance toward the floating half form of the youngling who had sacrificed himself once already for their cause and Geveral knew there was only one question he had any right to ask.
“When do we leave?”
CHAPTER TEN
Eydis
Looking at the towering granite spire, Eydis had the strange feeling that she had stepped back in time. Not so long ago, she had been here before, crouched behind these same low bushes, surveying the open ground between her hiding place and the wizard’s tower. It looked as forbidding now as it had then, like an ice-covered shard piercing the blackness of the night sky. At least the darkness was on her side, the moon and stars concealed behind a thick veil of clouds. And she didn’t have to be wary of a fierce griffin guarding the tower this time. The wizard’s creature was long dead.
It had taken her days of travel through the snow-covered mountains to find this place again. But at last she had arrived, only hours ago. She had left her mount, a rangy mountain horse, back in the trees at the top of the ridge, then carefully picked her way on foot down into the bottom of the valley.
Now she kept low to the ground and surveyed the tower and the empty stretch of ground she would have to cross to reach it, on the lookout for any signs of life. There were no trees or boulders between here and the tower. No place to take cover from unseen eyes that might look out from the upper balconies and windows.
When she had been here before, Eydis had been unable to find any doors or windows within reach of the ground. She had needed to scale the side of the high tower and clamber over the railing of one of the lower balconies to gain entrance. So she was surprised to discover this time that there was an open doorway within easy reach. How had she not seen it on that other occasion? Had it been somehow hidden, maybe by means of a magic spell? Or perhaps this entrance was newly made. Either way, the fact that it stood there so temptingly, open and unguarded, seemed like a strong indication the wizard of the tower was expecting company.
Did he know of her coming? Had he seen her through his gazing ball as she traveled this way? Or perhaps it was someone else he awaited. Whatever the truth, walking through that door would mean knowingly stepping into a trap.
That was why she waited, kneeling in the snow until her fingers and toes were numb with the cold, weighing her choices. She could search for another less obvious entrance, or she could walk boldly through that door and confront her enemy, trusting the luck that had kept her alive this far.
She decided to scale the wall just as she had done before. If she had survived it last time, there was no reason she couldn’t do so again. Abandoning her hiding place, she dashed across the frozen snow-covered earth. She arrived at the base of the tower and made her way stealthily around it, widely avoiding the yawning entranceway that seemed just a little too easy.
She examined the slick, icy wall of granite, noting the carved decorations and fissures in the stone that would offer the most solid hand and footholds. She took comfort in knowing the sturdy climbing boots she had purchased before reaching the mountains would offer better traction than the soft-soled boots she had worn the last time she made this climb. She removed her gloves and stuffed them into the inner pocket of her cloak, suspecting she would have a better grip bare-handed.
Then, preferring familiar danger to the unknown, she chose the same route up the side of the tower that she had taken before. She began her climb, carefully moving from one handhold to the next. The granite was as cold and slippery as she had expected, further numbing her fingers.
As the ground dropped away, she fixed her eyes on the edge of the balcony above. If she could just make it to that bottom balcony, dragging herself over the side would be easy enough. Her hands grew stiff and her arms shaky, even as she got closer to her goal. The cold night wind buffeted her, tossing her hair into her eyes. But she didn’t have much farther to go.
She inched her way to a higher toehold and then another until the balcony was within reach. At last she had something reliable to hold on to as she gripped the railing and dragged herself over. She was so exhausted from the climb that her landing was clumsier than she would have liked, as she dropped to the safety of the floor stones. But she was on the balcony now and sheltered from the cruel wind. Sheltered also, she hoped, from unfriendly eyes.
She peered into the shadowed interior of the room the balcony let into. Nothing had changed since the last time she was here. A vast open hall spread before her, tall columns rising to the vaulted ceiling above. There were no furnishings, only endless rows of pillars rising to the ceiling far overhead.
She stepped in from the balcony and walked softly across the smooth, tiled floor, clinging to the shadows of the pillars and the curved walls. Despite her caution, the sounds of her light footsteps seemed to whisper around the room in a faint echo.
A feeling of menace hung about this place. She remembered it well from her previous visit. Now more than ever she knew what evil the wizard who dwelled here was capable of. It was under his orders that a griffin had attacked the adherents and dwarf children who had survived the fall of the Asincourt seclusionary. They had fled into the snowy mountains hoping to escape to the safety of the dwarven city of Runehaven. But because of this wizard, they had met with destruction instead.
Eydis took in a breath of the cold air that filled this chamber and pushed her emotions back down. She couldn’t let her feelings distract at a time when she needed all her wits about her.
Her eyes darted around the chamber. She was the only thing that stirred. There was no sign of the enemy. The only sound to break the stillness was the howl of the icy wind blasting in from the open balcony.
Following the same route she had taken last time, she abandoned the big chamber, creeping through an arched doorway and into a narrow corridor beyond. Here she found the expected set of stairs, spiraling upward. She ascended quietly, one hand on the knife she wore at her belt. She had rearmed herself before setting out for the mountains and would not be easily separated from her weapons this time.
The room she entered at the top of the stairs was smaller and more comfortable looking than the last. There were scarlet wall hangings and elegant furnishings,
including several long tables strewn with collections of unusual objects. There was a pedestal at the center of the room, on which rested a crystal sphere Eydis now knew to be a gazing stone.
Standing before the stone, exactly as he had been the first time she saw him, was the wizard of the granite tower. His back was turned toward her. But she knew him by his height, his colorful velvet robes, and the multitude of tiny silver braids down his back. She knew exactly how he would look when he turned around. How could she forget the sharp features she had seen in her nightmares ever since their first encounter? His eyes would be hard and cold, his skin unusually fair, and his face more youthful than the color of his braids suggested. There would be a long row of scars down one cheek, like the mark of a bear’s claw. Beneath his neck, a gold chain would stretch across his chest. His fingers would glitter with rings.
He was unaware of her presence, as of yet. Eydis used that brief advantage to prepare for the hasty plan she had worked out while she was scaling the tower. Hovering in the shadows, she wrapped her cloak more tightly around her and drew the hood up over her long hair. She summoned up the clearest memory she could of the face of the assassin who had killed Parthenia.
The last time she had laid eyes on that particular enemy was when he had broken into her room at the Green Griffin Inn in Hedgecote. She had concealed herself in a cupboard and waited for a chance to kill him. After he had discovered her hiding place, everything happened so quickly the last thing she had time to do was study his appearance. But she called to mind as best she could his unremarkable features, that ordinary face that could blend into any crowd.
Closing her eyes, she drew on her magic and concentrated on the ability that allowed her to assume any features she chose. She masked herself. It was a flawed likeness, she knew. It was hard to take on the details of a face she couldn’t envision perfectly. But as long as the wizard didn’t look at her closely, as long as she kept to the edges of his vision, it might work. It might get her near enough for her purposes.
She drew her knife and concealed it up her sleeve before stepping out of the shadows.
“I foresaw you would come. I left the door open for you.”
She started as the wizard’s words drifted lazily across the room. She hadn’t thought him aware of her arrival. But at least he didn’t turn at her soft approach.
She couldn’t answer him. Not without betraying that her voice was not the voice of the assassin. She could only ready her knife and move deeper into the room. Her walk was slow. Unthreatening. She approached at an angle, an indistinct figure to be glimpsed from the corner of his eye.
“Do you think me so easily fooled?” His voice sounded amused. “You disappoint me. I hoped we would have developed a mutual respect for one another’s abilities since our last meeting. Neither of us is easily defeated, are we?”
Eydis hesitated, still twenty paces from him, as the wizard turned around for the first time. His gleaming eyes taunted her across the distance.
“You can give up your disguise,” he prompted. “It must be tiring to hold in place.”
She gritted her teeth at the failure of her ruse but did as he suggested. Her face tingled lightly as her skin stretched then shifted into her usual features.
“A very impressive talent,” he observed. “Tell me, is it painful?”
“Not as painful as a knife through the heart,” she said coldly.
His lips twitched. “Is that your plan for me? How subtle of you.”
“It’s not a threat. It’s what your assassin did to Server Parthenia under your orders.”
He made a dismissive gesture. “I didn’t order the slaying of the oracle’s companion. I simply commanded my hired blade to do whatever was necessary to procure the scepter. The same scepter that brings you here now, so very predictably, for duty and revenge. You really think I have it, don’t you?”
“I know you do,” Eydis said, fighting a sudden flicker of uncertainty.
“Exactly the kind of overconfidence that nearly cost you your life the first time we met. This time it will be the end of you.”
He removed his gaze from hers and nodded toward the walls. “Look around you, mistress of masks. Notice anything new and surprising about this room?”
Wary of a trick, she cast a brief glance around the chamber. For a moment she saw nothing amiss. Then her attention was drawn by a shifting motion in one wall. At first she thought her eyes were deceiving her. The curved walls were subtly moving, one merging into another so that the doorways and windows letting out of the room disappeared. There was only an endless circle of unbroken stone, enclosing and trapping them inside this room.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Eydis’s dismay must have shown on her face, for her enemy made a sound of mock pity. “Poor catalyst of chaos. You shouldn’t be too distressed. Know that even had you succeeded in some wild scheme to kill me and flee the tower, you would not have managed to rescue the scepter and change the course of fate. That opportunity has already passed.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, hating the doubt in her voice.
“The scepter of power that you and your oracle so badly want has already been carried away to the tombs of Umanath and the dark grasp of one I think we are both familiar with.”
Eydis went cold with fear, even as she tried to disbelieve his words. “Impossible. You wouldn’t give such a valuable object over to Rathnakar. Not when keeping it could increase your own power.”
“You overestimate my boldness.” His voice held a hint of regret. “Much as I would have liked to hold the scepter in my hands, even I dare not rival the Raven King. That ancient foe and I have met in another time and, if I must face him again, I would rather do it as an ally. That is why I instructed my assassin to carry the scepter directly to the dark master as soon as he obtained it. With such a gift, I will have his favor.”
While he spoke, Eydis’s mind worked quickly. There would be time to take in the implications of what he was saying later. For now, she must find some way out of the trap she had walked into. She dared not attack the wizard while he was prepared for it. She had discovered once before his ability to freeze an enemy and hold them fixed in midair, helpless to move. She must make him feel unthreatened, giving him no excuse to unleash that magic on her now.
So she kept her knife up her sleeve and backed slowly away until she brushed against one of the many long tables standing around the room. She leaned casually against the table, her hands on the edge, and tried to keep him talking.
“If you think courting Rathnakar’s favor will guarantee you protection in the days ahead, you are mistaken,” she said. “He will show mercy to none.”
The wizard tilted his head and looked amused. “And you think you and your oracle could offer me better protection?” he asked.
“Maybe.”
Keeping her face to the wizard, she reached behind her and began a stealthy exploration of the contents of the table. Maybe somewhere among that collection of strange treasures would lie a distraction or an extra weapon to be used to her advantage.
The wizard scoffed. “You place too much faith in your oracle. She is not all you believe her to be. She is a freakish fraud, possessing minor powers. Nothing more.”
“So I have learned.”
Eydis’s fingers ran over the objects on the table, identifying them in her mind’s eye. A stack of books. A carved wooden box. The polished skull of a small animal. None of these were of use.
Aloud she said, “But for all the oracle’s failings, we are on the same side. And if all join together, we may yet prevent the coming chaos.”
Her searching fingers stumbled across something she couldn’t identify. What was it? A heavy statue worked in some sort of metal. As she traced the fine details of scales and coils, a memory flashed through her mind of a time when the bite of a small viper had once sent her into a trance. This sculpted likeness of a hooded snake could be just the advantage she was looking for.
The wizard
laughed sharply.
Eydis flinched before realizing he was reacting to her words. He had not detected the careful movements of her hands.
“Me? Join with the oracle and her catalysts of chaos? Why would I attach myself to a cause doomed to failure?”
Eydis opened herself to her magic and allowed a thin trickle to flow through her hands into the cold statue. She felt it turning to flesh beneath her lifetouch.
Unaware, the wizard continued. “We eternals do not take the same short view as you mortals. Unlike you, we cannot be claimed by old age, only by violence. So all I have to do is seclude myself here in my tower, far off from the petty wars of men, and wait for the chaos to pass. Rathnakar’s rule is coming, but he has no cause to interfere with me. Not now that I have shown I will not act against him.”
The snake began to move in Eydis’s hands. She wanted to take hold of it and hurl it at the wizard. Maybe that would distract him long enough for her to leap forward and plunge her knife into him. But the snake was coming alive too quickly and it had other plans. It wriggled free of her grasp and slithered out of reach.
The wizard was concluding his argument. “And now, mistress of masks, I have the opportunity to prove my friendly intentions toward Rathnakar in one final way. By destroying one he hates.”
The distance between them was still too far, but there was no more time to fumble after plans or unexpected weapons. Eydis had to attack before he did.
Quick as lightning, she whipped the knife from her sleeve and threw herself at her enemy.
She had not gone two steps when he raised a hand and cast a blue light from it. The magic shot across the room and struck her like a dash of cold water. She froze immediately in midair. Her fist, holding the knife, was locked into position. One foot was off the floor. She couldn’t move.
“Now, doesn’t this feel familiar?” asked the wizard, lazily approaching her as she hovered, helpless in her awkward pose. “I believe we found ourselves in this position once before.”
