‘You won’t regret this, my love.’
‘Thank you … love,’ I answered with dripping sarcasm. I looked at Sand, who said nothing. ‘You can cast spells?’
‘I hear this thing faintly,’ he told me.
‘He is not a very talented draugr with spells, my dear,’ Lith said. ‘He is a bit like Taram was, adept in shadows and disguises and perhaps betrayal.’ She walked to Sand and stroked him affectionately.
‘I see. What do you look like without your spells?’ I asked her.
‘The Draugr are not all rotten and dry,’ she said happily. ‘Just dead. They are not mindless zombies.’ Her face paled, the skin went to white, and her eyes were red and fierce. Otherwise, her hair remained red and lustrous. She touched it affectionately. ‘I oil it daily. I suffocated that night, twenty years past. Left me unblemished.’
‘Your mother is uglier than she used to be,’ I told her. ‘I want something first.’
‘Anything!’
‘Sorrowspinner,’ I whispered. ‘I—’ I began and then stared at my finger. There was no finger.
She grinned widely. ‘The ring kept you in control as you know. As the poison did rather kill you, I took a chance it could be removed. I was right.’ She showed the finger to me. It was swollen and ugly, and the black ring was still there, glinting dully.
‘You cut my finger off,’ I said dangerously. ‘Give it here.’
‘Wait, I’ll remove the ring,’ she said and began tugging at it.
‘No, give it here,’ I growled, and she hesitated and handed it over while glowering at me.
‘Technically, it belongs to my family—’
‘Technically, your family is dead.’ I laughed. ‘They should not own anything.’ I ripped the ring off the finger and dropped it into the dust. Damned finger, I thought. And I didn’t truly care. ‘Now. Where is the gauntlet?’
‘At the old keep, High Hold. In father’s workshop,’ she said with a smile.
‘And it is guarded?’ I asked her.
‘It is well guarded,’ she told me. ‘And we will have a small army to help us enter, but we will need you to fight. You are, after all, the Beast of the North. After you get the gauntlet, you will use its powers to help us kill off the enemy in the Tower of the Temple. We will loot Crimson Apex as well. Lots of gold there, and I shall need it later. I’ll spare Illastria. Poor aunt is sort of a mascot. And she knows things.’
‘Very well,’ I told her.
She nodded. ‘Good. It is settled, then. I’m going to help you. Sand will as well. And so will they.’ She nodded at the doorway out of the cell. We were under the city, in Valkai’s tunnels. Out there, a dozen eyes glowed. Then scores. More. ‘They swore themselves to me, after the battle. Mir could force them back to the fold, but she cannot force you.’
‘You have been very busy,’ I breathed, eyeing the dead eyes, and Father’s ending came to my mind. ‘Let us leave them. I’ll have to see if any Brother escaped. And—’
‘Black Brother did,’ she said. ‘Flew out of the battle in the Tower, the last of them. They are looking for him. Perhaps we will find him first. We will sort it out, love,’ she told me and giggled. ‘I wonder how you will introduce me to your kin, should any be alive.’
‘Gods’ laugh,’ Sand cackled and flexed his hand. I could see bone under the skin, and the human part of my brain protested.
‘Valkai?’ I yelled. A pair of eyes came forward. He stepped up to the room, wearing chain. He bowed to me, his eyes devious and evil. ‘I need a route out of the town. And your boys and girls should come armed.’
He turned to Lith, who nodded gravely. ‘We will use the mining route we always used. It leads to your Green Hall.’
‘So be it,’ I said, and we traveled to Crimson Apex.
CHAPTER 18
The night stank of death.
That was due to the army of misshapen rogues behind my back. A host of bright, if dead eyes flickered in the dark as we stared at the High Hold, the ruins of the Blacktower’s ancestral home. ‘I know what Balan and Mir want. And what you claim to want. I know Taram wanted to kill kings,’ I told Lith, who was crouched near me. I was thinking about Sand.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Your Sand still wants to have his own house one day. He told me about his wishes after he was raised. I ordered him to.’ She smiled at poor Sand. ‘Perhaps he shall?`
‘What does Shaduril want?’ I asked her ‘What did Ann?’
‘Ann? To die,’ she smiled. ‘She got her wish.’ She was right. She had always been so sad. ‘Shaduril hoped to kill me.’
‘With good reason.’ I grinned.
‘Yes. She hates me for taking Taram. I did an idiotic thing, really, but I loved him,’ she whispered and leaned closer to me. ‘He is really a rotten, whore mongering bastard. He cheated both of us with so many women. That’s one of the reasons I want to kill him myself. And the fact he can disturb my plans.’
‘Anything else?’ I asked her. ‘For Shaduril.’
She looked uncomfortable. ‘She dreamt of children and happiness and living by the sea,’ Lith said uncomfortably. ‘Now she only desires my life. And yours.’
I laughed mockingly. ‘She had mine already. Perhaps she is sated?’
Lith stammered at that and looked suspicious. Then she shrugged and pointed at the ruins of High Hold. ‘Look. There will be a guardian. It’s on the top floor. You have to deal with it first. I’ll tell you where to go. And be careful with the magic. We all hear and see the Dark Mistress. The dead call the magic that, by the way. We tap the Mistress and call forth spells, and it is easier for us than it is for the living. The dead are clever magicians. Your kind Stir the Cauldron, which sounds idiotic, by the way. Makes you lot sound like some sort of a glutton. Elves speak of Glory, the denizens of the undercrofts, of Svartalfheim, they See the Shades. But a Cauldron?’
‘Shut up,’ I told her.
She clapped my shoulder. ‘Be careful when you try these powers. Do not try to invent new ones while fighting unless your life depends on it. You might die.’
‘And why do you not follow me in there, if I may ask?’
She shrugged. ‘As I said, the guardian has to be dealt with. But there is also a key. I’ll go and fetch the key to Balan’s workshop,’ she said ferociously. ‘The house holds but a dozen men now.’
‘The butler?’ I asked her. ‘Gray?’
‘He is a draugr, an elder one, raised that first night, so do not worry,’ she grinned. ‘He is not there. Ready?’
I eyed Sand, the boy I no longer quite knew. He was strange, intense, a member of the pack lurking in the night. Terrifying. But an ally.
For now. She was not telling me everything.
‘I am,’ I said.
‘Sand comes with you. To help you,’ she explained. ‘Well then. Let’s get to it.’ She turned to the dead and the hulking Valkai. ‘Take the thugs to our house. Rip it apart,’ she told him. ‘Let none escape. Pack up the valuables I listed. Meet in the foyer when we are done. Don’t eat Illastria. Must hurry.’
Valkai nodded. He sent men around the darkness, in pairs and threes. ‘Lead on,’ Valkai told Lith, who grinned.
‘Good luck, Beast,’ she told me, pushed to lean on my chest and kissed me full on the lips. She broke it off and disappeared, an army of dead behind her.
Sand chuckled. ‘I don’t envy you. She is a handful.’ His eyes were glowing, but there was something strange about him. ‘I’m not sure what will become of us.’
‘We will not part ways, Sand,’ I told him bravely if sadly. ‘You are hers. But you are my friend.’
‘Didn’t have much choice,’ he grinned and indicated his hand. ‘But this … the condition can be useful. No pain, really.’ He smiled wickedly, and I agreed wordlessly. ‘Shall we go deal with the guardian?’
‘We shall,’ I told him.
We marched through the ruins of the fort. The curtains were still flapping in the windows, spookily, making a strange sound. Mice were r
unning up and down the walls as we entered the gate. We walked on, crossed a dark yard full of swaying flowers, bones and debris. ‘Has seen better days,’ Sand noted.
‘We go in and up there to that room,’ I told him.
‘Up?’ he asked and followed my eyes.
There on the top floor, a light flickered. It was weak, frail, but still there. We entered the doors, rotten and ajar and witnessed a half crumbled fortress. Excellent paintings had been burnt, the stones cracked and melted in places. There were rows of dry corpses in the great hall, all tied in gray sacks, their feet showing. Some were hoary, near skeletal; others were fresh.
‘The ones who had to die to make us,’ Sand whispered. ‘And the ones who stayed in Helheim, despite Mir’s power.’
There were over two thousand of them. Some were villagers, many were Jesters. ‘Oh my gods,’ I whispered. ‘And they cannot resurrect the ones they used to give you spark?’ There was a stench of death wafting up from the room, and I retched. Sand cocked his head curiously.
‘No, they are gone, and we stumble on,’ he whispered. ‘Hel’s curse and blessing. I am not sure which, yet. There,’ Sand said and nodded at a dark stairway leading up. ‘Make no noise.’ He skirted ahead, treading softly. He hesitated, and I felt him grasping at the flames of his Dark Mistress. He blended with the shadows and shot up to the roof. He looked down at me. ‘This is really strange.’
‘I am a Jotun, Sand,’ I grinned up at him; despite the fact he was not the man I had known. ‘I know it is strange.’ He nodded, looking severe and I missed his sense of humor.
We navigated the staircase, climbed over some dark rubble, and finally ended up on the third floor. There, silence reigned. Ways ran left and right, silent, dead, old, and cold. A wind was fluttering the cobwebs, and rats were silently making their way in the remains of the rafters. Half of the fort had crumbled. To our left, there were rooms, and from the last one, something threw a bit of light to the floor outside the room. I nodded at Sand, and we trotted that way, as silently as we could. A cat crouched by the door, staring at us. Sand stood there, staring at the thing, whispered a word, and the cat fell asleep. He looked at me, shrugging.
‘Mad,’ I whispered, very softly. He did not argue.
I reached the door, glanced inside, and there stood the guardian of the fort.
Shaduril.
She had sworn to kill me for sleeping with Lith. She wanted to kill Lith for her crimes. She was dead, and slave to her desires and would likely not listen to reason. She loved me; she hated me. And Lith had sent me there to deal with the guardian. Bitch, I thought, and Sand was nodding as if he had read my mind.
She was looking out of the window, humming gently. She held a hand across her chest. The room was neatly arranged but looked dead. Just like Balan’s had been, in the Crimson Apex. The flowers in the vase were ancient. There was just a hint of their old color remaining, shades of red, and yellow. The bed had yellowed sheets, and the pillow was faded with red stains, and I guessed that was where Shaduril had died, for there was a hole in the roof and starlight glittered high up there in the sky. There were chests and armoires in the room; one was open with dresses and shoes. She was singing, chanting actually, softly, as if not awake and likely, she was not.
‘Sunlight, sisters, is what we shared, once in past when we were paired,
Nighttime came, the stars grew dull, out in the ocean there flew an ivory gull.
Now we are still, lost and cold, and bereft of any former goodwill.
Sleep well, Ann,
My undeath alone will be dull as a dry bone.’
She swayed and giggled, dreaming, perhaps stalking the dreams of others, alone, and missing her sisters.
Then, there was an explosion.
Dust rumbled down around us as the Crimson Apex was under attack. I felt the dead calling out for magic, spells of death and destruction were hurled at the gates, the guards and Draugr rushed to take or to hold the home of the Blacktowers.
Shaduril shook as she awakened. She rushed to gaze out of the window. ‘Lith,’ she breathed and turned.
And flew back as my rock-sized fist smashed her face.
I grabbed her roughly, feeling regret and threw her. She tumbled over her bed, over a chest and landed on her back to the corner. Sand rushed by and scuttled along the walls and shadows, strange and fast. The echoes of alarmed men rang in the night; the fort was on fire, but I had to deal with the girl I had loved. Or still did? Shaduril shot up, but Sand’s scimitar rushed down from the top and impaled her hand to the floor. He craned his neck and chuckled. ‘Didn’t you once feel so superior to me?’
‘How?’ she breathed. ‘Sand?’
‘Lith’s treachery’ he said darkly. ‘And now we have business with you.’ Her eyes settled on me.
‘Lith?’ she cursed. ‘She is out there. First, she took Taram. Then you. And now she sent you here—’
‘She took your face,’ I said patiently as I crouched over her, huge and menacing. It still felt strange to change my size, but also very natural. ‘And she saved me by taking the Harlot’s face. You, on the other hand, killed my father.’
‘Lith is out to rule, you idiot! That’s all. You are her willing tool,’ she said and grinned madly as she struggled on the floor. ‘I loved you. You made an undead piece of filth love you, and then you betrayed her. Didn’t you know the difference between her and me? Would I have–’
‘No,’ I agreed. ‘You would not have done what she did. I made a mistake.’
‘A bad mistake, Maskan. You should not make a draugr your enemy. We don’t forget quickly,’ she laughed as she struggled with the scimitar piercing her hand.
‘If you struggle, Shaduril, if you make this hard, if I have to fight you, you are doing Lith a favor. She sent me here. And all I need is the gauntlet,’ I told her empathetically. ‘And you? You lied to me.’
‘Yes,’ she hissed. ‘As I was ordered.’
I spat. ‘You told me lies to my face. Lith is rebelling, but you did not.’
‘Lith is stronger than I am,’ she said quietly. ‘I did want to run away with you. But would you have? I am dead.’
I shrugged. ‘I don’t know. All I did for your family was to spare you from Morag, who loved you but not as a lover. All for you and Sand.’
‘And to avenge your family!’ she hissed and looked forlorn as I mentioned how Morag had liked her. ‘Sand,’ she glowered at the boy above her, ‘was supposed make you feel sorry for robbing me. He found me in the harbor, suggested you rob me, and then he would have led you to save me. I did not ask for you to love me!’
‘I did. And you did,’ I told her. ‘You are dead. Can you even love? I—’
Her eyes flashed, and she turned away with an unreadable expression. There was grief, loathing, hatred on her face. She spoke with a small voice. ‘I am. And yet, I still feel such distant memories. I loved Taram once. He was careless, amusing. I was dutiful and shy. And then you came along. With that grin. I love you still.’
‘The gauntlet, Shaduril,’ I whispered. ‘And I shall spare you Lith’s attentions. I will need you against her.’
She shook her head. ‘The Black Grip. That gauntlet was beyond Father’s powers to tinker with. Yes, it is hidden. And no. I’ll not give you the thing. I cannot.’
‘Shad—’
‘I rejoiced when I saw you led away,’ she sobbed with conflicting emotions. ‘I hoped for your death. And Taram’s, but the gods took Ann instead. I have been waiting for Lith since she disappeared. She knows I want her dead. And she sent you to me? She will regret it. So will you.’
‘Do not,’ I told her. ‘I’m not as I was. I might not care to spare you if you try to hurt me. Calm and help me.’
She was nodding her head. ‘I’d be with Ann, Maskan,’ she told me with angry intensity. ‘And while I want Lith dead, I am sure she will die one day and join us in Helheim. She will suffer. You would keep me? With you? No. You would not love a husk of a woman who looks l
ike this. Look!’ Her face changed. It was dry and yellow, her hair was lustrous, but in places white, and there was an old gash running across her face, and it had taken one of her eyes. I flinched, and she saw it. She smiled sorrowfully and looked away. ‘I died right there on that bed, love. So, do you desire me?’
‘I desire the laughter of the girl who ran to the beach,’ I told her honestly. ‘I don’t know I can love what is left of your body, but I loved that person. I am your friend, at least.’ She stared at me in confusion, and then cackled and struggled, and Sand kept her there on the floor though with difficulty.
‘It is guarded,’ she said. ‘The Black Grip. And you have no magic …’ Her eyes enlarged as I showed her my missing finger. ‘You can—’
‘I can hear and see the power. I can Stir the Cauldron, or the Dark Mistress, Shaduril. And I can change my size, looks. I don’t know anything, really, but I am much more than I used to be. I am learning to be something of a Jotun, even if the human part still lingers there behind my skull,’ I told her darkly and picked her up. Sand’s scimitar left her hand. ‘I don’t want to hurt you. I care for you. But I will need it. The gauntlet. I’ll use it to kill Mir and Balan.’
‘I don’t have it.’ She laughed.
‘Take me to the gauntlet or I’ll pluck your legs off,’ I said sweetly and perhaps even meant it.
‘You will take the gauntlet and do what with it?’ she said dubiously. ‘Dagnar is too far gone for you to reverse that. You cannot get into the Tower, even.’
‘I am a shape shifter,’ I said. ‘All Jotuns are. I can fly,’ I told her with a growl, and she nodded reluctantly. ‘With that gauntlet, I can kill them. Father told me it would help me.’
She considered it, struggling with her emotions. Her face softened, then hardened, and finally she shook her head. ‘I won’t,’ she said with manic intensity. ‘Not after you slept with her.’
I thrust her out of the window, and she fell with a shriek. I hesitated, wondering if I knew what I was doing. Then I jumped after her. My form blurred and changed. It was strange, going from one into another, from a giant into a bird, and all my senses thrust out the old fears. I knew what to do and how, and I glided down as a huge, dark raven, flapping my wings, feeling the wind ruffle my feathers. It felt so natural. It was draining, but not unlike running. The feeling of flight was wonderful for all the few seconds it lasted though unfamiliar enough for me to make a very ungraceful landing. Shaduril was picking herself up; her leg bent unnaturally. I changed back, taking deep breaths. ‘See? No tower is blocked to me.’
The Beast of the North Page 33
