The clang of metal from one of the grand stairways to the upper balcony of the rotunda caught my attention. For a moment I thought that Rogomil and the Rebels had somehow blasted through the dome overhead. Then I realized that the clang of metal sounded like armored footsteps, and a far more simple explanation occurred to me.
The frost giants wore armor, and one of them had come to see what had caused the racket at the doors.
I cast a spell and Cloaked myself, and a minute later one of Rimethur’s frost giant bodyguards came down the grand staircase, ducking to avoid smacking his head on the balcony overhead. Like the other frost giants I had seen, he was nine or ten feet tall, and clad head to foot in steel armor. Unlike Rimethur’s armor, his was plain and unadorned, though it look thick enough to stop military-grade bullets. His hair and beard were black and glossy, stark against his silvery-blue skin, and his eyes glowed with the harsh white light of the sun striking snow in the heart of winter. On his left arm rested a shield that could likely have replaced one of the security doors, and in his right hand he carried an enormous axe that could have peeled back the roof of my van like foil. If he hit me with that thing, it would turn me into a pile of hamburger.
The frost giant stopped at the base of the stairs and looked around the rotunda with a scowl, his glowing eyes narrowed. I stayed motionless, my breathing slow and deep, my mind focused on the Cloak. Belatedly I wondered if he could see the glow from the screen of Rogomil’s phone as it uploaded the Rebels’ secrets to the Inquisition. Had I remembered to set on the floor screen down? The frost giant took one more look around the rotunda, muttered something irritated-sounding under his breath, and turned away. He climbed up the stairs, vanishing out of sight. The minute he did I released my Cloak with a sigh of relief, a headache twitching behind my eyes. The frost giant was one of Rimethur’s bodyguards, and he would return to his master. I need only follow him.
I cast another spell, one far weaker than a Cloak or even a Mask. I had learned it from a scroll I had found in Paul McCade’s weird little temple. It was a minor spell of mind magic called an Occlusion. It didn’t turn me invisible like a Cloak, or disguise my appearance like a Mask. It just made me…unobtrusive. Unnoticeable. Part of the background scenery. So long as I didn’t do anything threatening or take any aggressive actions, the frost giants shouldn’t notice me.
In short, I would be Occluded.
I hoped.
I started across the rotunda floor, moving as quietly as I could manage in high heels, which wasn’t very quiet. I heard the frost giant’s steady tread continue up the stairs. I followed him, moving as quietly as I could, one hand running along the stone railing. It felt icy cold beneath my fingers, though the chill didn’t touch me. I considered discarding my shoes, but decided against it. I didn’t want to leave any more physical evidence of my presence behind than necessary, and if I lost my bracelet, walking around barefoot in here would be an excellent way to contract frostbite.
The frost giant climbed to the upper level of the rotunda, and I followed. Jarl Rimethur stood against an ancient painting of Wisconsin’s farmers and workers, his sword in hand, and five other warriors waited with him. The strange bluish haze danced and shimmered around their weapons, the magical aura that would inflict frostfever on anyone wounded by one of those blades.
My father had been wounded by one of those swords. My brother would have died from it, if not for Morvilind’s magic.
Rimethur turned, and the guard started to speak in the jagged, rasping language of the frost giants. I could speak English, Spanish, Chinese, and the Elven language, but Morvilind’s tutors had never bothered to teach me the speech of the frost giants.
Yet to my astonishment, I could understand him. I didn’t know the language, and his words should have been meaningless noise, yet I understood their meaning. The bracelet was vibrating against my wrist in time to the words. Apparently warding its bearer against frost magic wasn’t the limit of its abilities.
With an uneasy feeling I wondered what else the bracelet might do to me.
“What news, Valjakar?” said Rimethur.
“Nothing,” said the guard, presumably named Valjakar. “I thought the door had opened, but it had not. The voidtouched humans must have used heavier explosives, but the Duke’s defenses are sound. I doubt they will be able to enter.”
Voidtouched? I wondered what that meant.
Rimethur let out a rumbling grunt. “Very well. Let the fools waste their bullets. Soon the Duke will sweep them from the field like the chaff they are.”
Valjakar scowled. “This does not sit well with me, my lord Jarl. Shall we cower in an Elven shelter like old women while the foe circles without? Let us sally forth and teach the voidtouched scum to fear. It has been too long since my blade has drank of human blood.”
“Your martial spirit does you honor, Valjakar,” said Rimethur. “But for now, wisdom suggests that we must remain in the Capitol. The plan of the voidtouched is obvious and childish, but it might well succeed if we venture forth. Should I be slain, the Great King would have no choice but to demand restitution of the High Queen. That would renew the war between our worlds, and the only victors in such a war would be the Archon dogs and the voidtouched human apes.”
Valjakar scowled. “The Archons were fools to challenge us.”
“Truly,” said Rimethur. “The Elves were our ancient foes. Yet the folly of the Archons and their human allies upon Earth threatens us all. Therefore we shall carry out the Great King’s will. We shall make alliance with proud Tarlia and her vassals…and we shall remain inside the Capitol until Duke Carothrace kills the voidtouched and their followers. The human rabble will not disrupt the Great King’s designs.”
He turned, stepping closer to the railing, and I saw the Ringbyrne Amulet glinting against the ornate armor of his cuirass.
It was so close. Twenty yards or so and I could snatch it and run. There were a few problems with that plan, though. For one thing, it rested against Rimethur’s chest, which it was a good eighteen inches above my head. I suspected the frost giant Jarl and his bodyguards would react poorly if some random human woman started climbing up his torso. For that matter, I couldn’t outrun the frost giants. It didn’t matter how fast I was – their long strides would permit them to catch me without much effort. The only option was to grab the amulet and cast a rift way spell to escape into the Shadowlands, and that would take a few seconds to work, which was more than enough time for the frost giants to gut me on the spot.
I had to think of something clever. Like, right now.
“I am surprised to find the voidtouched upon this world,” said another of the frost giants. “The humans are simple, short-lived creatures. Yet that in itself is a shield, for I thought they would not possess the magical aptitude to fall into such evil.”
Valjakar shrugged. “Tarlia can blame herself for that. She was the one who breached the umbra around Earth. Magical aptitude was rare among the humans before the Conquest, or so I understand. If she did not want voidtouched among the humans, then she should not have fled here for her exile.”
“No,” rumbled Rimethur. “Tarlia did not breach the umbra around Earth and open the way for the Elven exiles. Lord Kaethran Morvilind worked the spell, and he found this world.”
“Morvilind?” said another frost giant. “The High Queen ought to execute him. If there was ever an overmighty subject, it is Morvilind the Magebreaker.”
Magebreaker? There was yet another name for Morvilind I had never heard before. But, then…I didn’t really know that much about Morvilind, did I? I had known him for fifteen years, three-quarters of my life. Morvilind had lived for centuries, perhaps even for more than a thousand years, and those fifteen years were but a tiny drop in the ocean of the centuries he had seen.
Maybe it didn’t matter. I knew him well enough. I knew his cruelty, his coldness, and his pride. I knew he had enslaved me so profoundly that I had spent years seeking for an escape and found nothin
g.
“Surely Tarlia is equal to Morvilind in power,” said Valjakar.
“Truly,” said Rimethur, “but the Great King does not wish for a conflict between the two mightiest Elven wizards. Were Tarlia and Morvilind to battle, they would destroy each other, and the voidtouched would seize control of Earth. The Archons would then enslave this world, and the voidspawn would have the victory. For the voidspawn have always had their eye upon this world, even if their influence was limited.” His glowing eyes fell upon Valjakar. “You see, then, why we must wait here? Too much is at stake. If I am slain here, the Great King will have no choice but to renew his war upon the High Queen, and the voidspawn shall have the victory.” He let out a rumbling growl. “Though my blade thirsts for blood as much as yours, young one.”
“Your words are true, my lord Jarl,” said Valjakar. “It must be a grave challenge to wage war across worlds. All I wish is a foe before my blade.”
“Aye,” sighed Rimethur, “and age does not dull the lust for battle, at least not among the frost giants. Well, we shall do our duty. Now it seems our duty is to wait. So wait we shall.”
He leaned against the wall and sat down with a clang, the floor vibrating a little beneath my shoes. Valjakar and the other frost giant guards spread out, keeping watch on the rotunda doors and the other stairs leading into the legislative and office wings of the Capitol. My heart sped up a little bit. The flat disc of the Ringbyrne Amulet rested against Rimethur’s chest, and when he sat, that put it right at my eye level. The chain holding it to his neck did not look that sturdy.
I could grab it, run, and open a rift way to escape. All of the bodyguards were watching the doors. None of them were looking at me. If the Occlusion spell held, if I walked up to the Jarl without doing anything aggressive, they wouldn’t notice me until I seized the amulet. Rimethur was sitting, and even a frost giant would take a moment to get to his feet.
The opportunity had come my way. I dared not turn it away. This was my best chance to get the amulet. I took a few deep breaths, concentrating on the Occlusion spell, and then started forward. None of the frost giants saw me as I passed their ring. A few of them frowned, perhaps noticing something that seemed slightly amiss, but the Occlusion spell kept them from realizing my presence. I was thirty yards away from Rimethur. Then twenty. A couple more steps, and I would…
Then it all went to hell.
The Ringbyrne Amulet flashed, blue light pulsing in the gem in the center of the silvery disc. The amulet let out a chiming sound, and Rimethur frowned down at it. At the same time, the bracelet vibrated against my wrist and let out an identical chiming sound. I froze in mid-step. The frost giants had stood in a ring to guard their Jarl, and that also meant they now encircled me.
I was trapped.
It seemed the Knight had set me up to fail after all.
“A voidtouched!” roared Valjakar, raising his huge mist-wreathed sword. “Kill the human! Kill it!”
I cursed and gathered power for a spell, focusing upon the bracelet. My only chance was to cast a rift way and escape to Grayhold before the frost giants killed me. Yet as the guards charged, as Rimethur rose to his feet like a gray-armored storm cloud, I realized that I couldn’t work the spell in time.
For the second time that day, the certainty of my death closed over me.
Oh, God. Russell. I was so sorry…
“Hold!” thundered Rimethur. His voice boomed through the rotunda like a thunderbolt. The frost giants might have thirsted for blood, but they obeyed their Jarl. They came to a stop, though they did not lower their weapons.
I grinned and cast my spell. Rimethur might have wanted to take me alive, but it would do him no good. The hesitation had given me the time I needed to finish the spell, and I focused the magic upon the bracelet, expecting the rift way to snap open in front of me.
Instead, the spell fell apart. The ice beneath my feet flashed with blue light, and my rift way spell unraveled. I should have realized the truth. The magical ice prevented anyone from opening a rift way within its influence. That way Rimethur and his guards need not worry about enemy wizards opening rift ways within the rotunda.
It would have been more useful if I had realized that about two minutes ago.
“Ah,” said Rimethur. “You attempted to open a gateway to the shadow realm? Do not bother. The warding ice will prevent the creation of any such gates.”
“I kind of figured that,” I said…or I tried to say.
The bracelet shivered against my wrist again, and I said the words in the frost giant language. It was the damnedest strange feeling. I knew what I meant to say, and somehow the magic of the bracelet made my lips and tongue form the proper words in the frost giant language.
Just what the hell had the Knight given me?
“It is a human female,” growled Valjakar. He cast a spell, and I turned towards him, but it was only the spell to sense the presence of magical forces. “It bears a protective amulet. Jarl, I suggest we take the amulet, strip the creature naked, and watch it freeze to death. The humans are soft-skinned and weak-blooded, and are unable to withstand the cold.”
“No,” said Rimethur, his voice thoughtful.
“The creature has come to assassinate you, my lord!” said Valjakar. “If you do not wish to shed blood within the High Queen’s domain, that is right and honorable, but if the human female freezes to death not a single drop of blood will be spilled.”
“Observe,” said Rimethur. “The human is but lightly dressed. The cold should have incapacitated her.”
“She bears a warding amulet,” said Valjakar.
“Aye,” said Rimethur. “But what manner of warding amulet, that is the question, is it not? Well, human. You seem to wish to speak with us.” A hint of amusement entered the alien voice. “Perhaps you should indulge me and show us your amulet.”
It didn’t seem that I had much choice in the matter. I lifted my left arm and pushed back my various sleeves, revealing the twisted silver bracelet and its flaring blue gems. Come to think of it, both the metal and the gems looked similar to the Ringbyrne Amulet upon Rimethur’s chest. In fact, both looked as if they had been made by the frost giants.
The Knight had given me a frost giant relic?
“That is the metalwork of the frost giants, my lord Jarl,” said Valjakar, scowling at me. “The human female is a thief. It has stolen the bracelet from us.”
“No,” said Rimethur, his glowing eyes narrowed. “No, she has not. At least not from me. For I know the origin of that bracelet.”
“You do?” I said.
“It is called a sengejarme,” said Rimethur. “It is given as a gift to those who have done the frost giants a great service. Specifically, that sengejarme was given to the lord of the Shadowlands known to your people as the Knight of Grayhold.”
Valjakar growled. “Then the female has stolen the sengejarme from the Knight.”
“No,” I said. “No, I didn’t. He gave it to me.”
“Did he, now?” said Rimethur. “A most interesting tale.”
“Lies,” said Valjakar.
“Considering what the Knight of Grayhold customarily does to those who attempt to rob his stronghold,” said Rimethur, “it is most unlikely this wizard girl could have done so.”
I stared at him, my mind trying to absorb these new details. If the sengejarme was a badge of honor, a token of esteem, why had the Knight given it to me? It had protected me from the frost magic, yes, and given me the ability to speak the frost giants’ language. But with the Knight’s magical power, he could have accomplished all that with a few spells. So why give me a token of the frost giants’ esteem?
Something else occurred to me.
Rimethur seemed entirely unsurprised. The sensible thing to do would have been to kill me on the spot. Yet he hadn’t.
A stranger thought came to me, but it made a peculiar amount of sense.
Had the Knight and Rimethur planned this between them?
“Y
ou’re…friends with the Knight, then?” I said at last.
“Friends?” said Rimethur. “Certainly not. We are not fond of each other. Rather, let us say that we share a common enemy. That is often a more reliable bond than friendship.”
“Your enemy?” I said. “Who is your enemy? The High Queen?”
Rimethur chuckled. “I am here to make alliance with the High Queen at the command of my sovereign.”
“The Rebels, then?” I said.
“The voidtouched humans you call the Rebels are the tool of my enemies,” said Rimethur. “Perhaps they were not, once, but that has changed over the last century.”
“The Archons, then,” I said. “You’re allying with the High Queen against the Archons.”
“Closer, but still not quite upon the target,” said Rimethur. “The rebel Elves who call themselves the Archons, for all their posturing, are also a tool of my enemy. Think, wizard girl. All the pieces are in front of you.”
“Voidtouched,” I said. “You said the Rebels had been voidtouched.” Corvus had said the Dark Ones came from the Void beyond the Shadowlands. “That means…that means they were touched by something from the Void.”
Valjakar snorted. “Brilliant.”
“Voidspawn,” I said. “You were talking about the voidspawn. That must be what you call the Dark Ones?”
Rimethur nodded. “Some among your race call the voidspawn the Dark Ones. An appropriate title.”
“The Dark Ones, then,” I said, understanding coming as I recalled the dark magic Rogomil had threatened to use. “You and the Knight are both enemies of the Dark Ones.”
“Yes,” said Rimethur. “Tell me, wizard girl. Did you know that there were once other Knights? That in ancient epochs, thirteen Knights held demesnes in the umbra of Earth?”
“No,” I said.
“Ah,” said Rimethur. “Did the Knight of Grayhold tell you the purpose of his office?”
Cloak Games: Omnibus One Page 29
