Steel and Stone

by Ellen Porath

The ettin halted and gazed at the Kernan with both pairs of eyes. “You know Res?” the right head asked suspiciously.

  “I fight for the Valdane, you dolt! Don’t you remember me?” When the right head continued to look stupefied. Caven turned to Lacua. “Do you remember me?”

  Lacua nodded slowly. “Long time ago. Not now.”

  “Let go of me,” Caven ordered. “The Master would be furious.”

  Tanis held his tongue. Slowly the ettin loosened his hold on Caven Mackid. The Kernan straightened his clothing. “Now take me and my prisoner to Captain Kitiara.”

  Res-Lacua gazed from Caven to Tanis. “Prisoner?”

  “Yes. A … a gift for Captain Kitiara.”

  Two sets of eyebrows furrowed. “Not captain.”

  “Yes, the Captain.”

  “General.”

  Caven barely suppressed a double-take. “Yes … Well, take me to General Kitiara.” He drew himself erect. “Now!” he added. The ettin’s four eyes turned toward Tanis, who slumped and tried to look as much like a prisoner as possible. The other ettins mumbled, but in no language that the half-elf understood.

  “Master said to bring to him,” Res-Lacua insisted.

  “To General Kitiara. He meant to say General Kitiara,” Caven insisted. “He told me so. After you left him—ah, just now. I just came from him.”

  Two pairs of pig eyes squinted. Res-Lacua frowned. “Take to Master,” Lacua said stubbornly. “Yes, yes,” added Res. Just as Caven appeared about to insist once more, the ettin’s left face brightened. “But,” Lacua said happily, “General with Master!”

  “Marvelous,” Tanis hissed to Caven as the two were escorted down one hallway, then another, then a third. “Pay attention to the route,” Tanis added. “We may need to leave in a hurry.”

  “Up through the crevasse? How?” Caven attempted to pause to talk to the half-elf, but Res-Lacua hauled him down the corridor.

  “Don’t forget—with luck, we’ll have a mage with us,” Tanis reminded him.

  Several twists and turns later, Tanis and Caven stood before the Valdane in his chambers. The Valdane lounged on a gilded throne, his red hair bright against the purples and blues of his loose silk shirt. Behind him, Janusz worked over a wide bowl on a table set before what looked like a window. Lida assisted him, handing him salvers holding what appeared to be herbs. She didn’t meet the captives’ eyes. Kitiara, dressed in polished black leather leggings, a tight bodice under chain mail, and a sealskin cape trimmed with thick white fur, had no such reservations. Her stare was cold. She stood motionless at the side of the Valdane’s throne.

  The view in the window shifted, and suddenly Tanis was gazing at the battleground he’d just left. But it was different now. Puffy white clouds, looking almost friendly, floated above the attacking army, where before the sky had been clear. The Valdane’s troops were edging out from under the clouds, but the attacking army seemed not to have noticed.

  “By the gods!” Caven murmured. “Magefire?”

  “I see you remember the Meiri, Mackid,” the Valdane said. “But, no, not magefire. Something much better. Something the ice jewels taught the mage. Magesnow, I imagine you’d call it. They, of course”—and he indicated the window—“will think it the agony of the Abyss.”

  “Aventi olivier,” Janusz chanted, and all of the ettins but Res-Lacua vanished from the Valdane’s quarters. Tanis saw the other four appear among the troops in the window.

  Janusz dusted the surface of the bowl with orange powder. “Sedaunti avaunt, rosenn.” Lida’s features grew more tense with each word, as though she were concentrating hard on something deep within her. She still didn’t look up at the newcomers.

  A scream pealed from the window. The roar came from the warriors atop the attacking owls. Snow had drifted down upon them from the clouds. But this snow twinkled, and when it touched Brittain’s flying corps, it burned. Several warriors lost their holds on their harnesses and pitched to the ground below. A few owls gyrated from the pain of the magesnow, unseating their riders and darting this way and that in a frenzy. Thunder rumbled. The minotaurs and the enemy had taken cover under tarpaulins.

  Tanis caught sight of Brittain atop Windslayer, gesturing with his frostreaver and issuing orders as though the magesnow were but an irritant, as though he’d fought many a battle from several hundred feet above the ground.

  “Stop it, Janusz!” Lida suddenly begged. “Stop, at least for now. I can’t stand it. Dreena’s death …” She clutched his black robe with a brown hand.

  Tanis saw a look of regret pass over the evil mage’s features. “I can’t, Lida,” he said softly. “This is war, and I must do my part. It will be over quickly.”

  Then the screams ended, as though Janusz’s prediction had come true. But Tanis could see that the mage was as surprised as he was.

  “What is it?” the Valdane demanded. “Is it over already?” He sounded disappointed.

  “They’ve gone above the clouds,” Janusz said wonderingly. “By Morgion, they flew right into the clouds and through them! The pain …”

  “But they’re safe now?” Lida asked.

  “For the moment.”

  Lida sighed.

  “Raise the clouds, you idiot,” the Valdane snapped. “There must be a spell for that.”

  “Valdane,” the elder mage said with a sigh, “despite what you may think, there is more to magic than reciting a few words. Much study is involved. And …”

  “And?”

  “… and I am not yet fully adept in controlling the magesnow clouds. It requires a great deal of study from my books and conferring, practicing, with the ice jewels.”

  “Well, then, study!”

  With another sigh, Janusz indicated a blue-bound book upon the table. Lida brought it to him and bent her head with his over the tome.

  The Valdane pulled himself erect and gripped the arms of his throne. “Now,” he said to the half-elf, “about the ice jewels …”

  “We don’t have them,” Tanis said.

  “Yet you know what they are.”

  Caven broke in. “We traveled with Kitiara, after all.”

  The Valdane smiled, but the movement was devoid of humor. His blue eyes glinted. “Where have you hidden them?”

  Kitiara put a gloved hand on the Valdane’s shoulder. “They haven’t hidden them,” she said to the leader. “They have them now.” Janusz and Lida looked up from their work.

  Nausea rose in Tanis. Brittain was right; Kitiara had joined the Valdane. He and Caven had ventured across Ansalon only to meet their deaths at her whim. “I left the pack in Darken Wood,” the half-elf said sullenly. Janusz laughed, but Lida made no sound.

  “Yes,” Caven echoed. “In Darken Wood.”

  “No,” Kitiara corrected them. “You brought my pack with you.” She pointed to the pack in Tanis’s hand.

  The Valdane turned in his throne and stared hard at Kitiara. She met his gaze. “I told you you could trust me, Valdane,” she said softly, smiling provocatively. “We’ll make a great pair. I’ve proved that, haven’t I?”

  “Astounding,” he murmured.

  “Tanis,” Kitiara declared, “cooperate with the Valdane. Join our cause. It will be well worth your while.”

  “I forget where I hid the ice jewels,” Tanis said. He let his eyelids drop and glanced to the side, marking where Res-Lacua stood, holding his and Caven’s swords. Neither man would die without fighting, that was certain.

  Kitiara stepped down from the dais that held the throne and moved toward the table where the two mages sat. “Tanis, Caven,” she said. “Don’t be fools!”

  “This is ridiculous,” the Valdane snapped. “Ettin, take the pack from the half-elf.”

  “Wait!” Kitiara commanded. Surprisingly, the leader held up a hand. “Bring the jewels to Janusz, half-elf. He’s the only one who can use them, anyway.”

  “He’ll kill everyone who stands in his way,” Tanis said. “Including you, Kitiara.”


  “But, Tanis,” she rejoined smoothly, “I have no intention of standing in the mage’s way, or the Valdane’s.” Her brown eyes stared straight into his tilted hazel ones. “Come here, Tanis. Come stand by me and Lida, both of you, and bring out the ice jewels where we all can admire them.”

  Res-Lacua, clenching the captives’ swords in one hand, stood between Tanis and Kitiara, and Tanis understood then.

  “Tanis, don’t!” Caven shouted as Tanis stepped forward with the pack. An arm’s length from Lida, the half-elf opened the false bottom as the Kernan leaped forward. Violet light from the jewels spilled into the room, and the Valdane gave a moan. Janusz’s eyes glowed, while Lida’s filled with tears.

  Then suddenly Kitiara was at their side, their swords in her hands. The ettin gaped witlessly. The Valdane swore and drew his dagger.

  “Tanis!” Kitiara shouted. “Give Lida the jewels!”

  The swordswoman whirled toward the female spell-caster and ordered, “You, mage, you’ve been studying with Janusz. Use the jewels to get us out of here. Now!”

  Lida closed her eyes and began to chant. She held out her hands, and Tanis leaped to place the eight remaining stones on her palms. A spasm of pain cross her face, but she continued to speak the words of magic. “Teleca nexit. Apprasi-na cos. Teleca nexit. Apprasi-na cas.” Over and over she chanted the strange words, until they wove in among themselves like fine needlework, one word indistinguishable from the next. “Teleca nexit. Apprasi-na cas. Teleca-nexitapprasinacas.”

  Janusz raised a hand to strike Lida, but Caven jumped forward, sword at the ready. The Valdane hurtled toward Kitiara with fury, and Tanis whirled to shield the swordswoman.

  Res-Lacua blinked stupidly at the humans. Then he saw the sword of the bearded, black-haired mercenary slash the hand of the Master. As Janusz cried out and flung himself back against the wall, clutching his hand, the ettin came to life. “Master!” he roared, grabbing Caven around the midsection. He hurled the Kernan against the opposite wall and laughed at the sound of Caven Mackid’s neck breaking.

  Kitiara lunged at the ettin, her sword piercing the two-headed creature through his one heart. With his last vestige of strength, Res-Lacua tossed her against the Valdane’s throne. Kitiara slid, unconscious, to the floor.

  Lida’s voice cut through the furor. “Tanis!” she cried. “I can’t use them! The jewels … they’re too powerful.” She moaned, then collapsed, sobbing, against the table, the glowing stones spilling from her lap across the floor.

  Tanis had no time for the lady mage. Caven was dead. Kitiara lay senseless on the floor, perhaps dying. That left the half-elf alone against the Valdane and the mage. Tanis plunged toward Janusz. Even as the half-elf flew toward the wizened spell-caster, Janusz spoke new words of magic, and Tanis slammed into an invisible wall. The mage grinned at the half-elf. “A protection spell,” the wizard noted.

  But Tanis’s attention was riveted. The Valdane’s fingers were bloodied, even though neither Tanis nor Caven had touched the leader. “The bloodlink,” the half-elf rasped. “Wode was right. What hurts one, hurts the other.… Maybe what kills one will also kill the other,” he added in a louder voice.

  The mage’s smile never wavered. “The force field protects us both,” he said. “And you won’t survive much longer in any case. I can magically summon minions at any moment.”

  Lida raised her head. “No, Janusz,” she whispered. “You can’t cast magic through such a protection spell. You would have to lift the first spell in order to do that.”

  Tanis waited at the periphery of the zone of protection, his sword in one hand, his dagger in the other. “And as soon as you lift it, I will kill you,” he said.

  Tanis beckoned the lady mage to his side with a gesture. Kicking the spilled jewels aside, Lida hurried to Tanis.

  “The poem,” he said softly. She raised her brows in question. “The portent, I believe, was sent by your mother from wherever she is, either dead …”

  “… or escaped to Darken Wood,” Lida broke in. “As I believe.”

  Tanis went on, his voice a low whisper. “The poem called for you and Kitiara and Caven and I to be together with the jewels, for you to work the magic to end all this.” Janusz’s gaze never left them. The Valdane was curiously still, his eyes alert. Tanis continued. “But Caven is dead, and Kitiara is unconscious. There’s only we two, Lida … Kai-lid.”

  Lida’s mouth opened slightly. Tanis saw her lips move, and he realized she was reciting the poem of portent to herself. Her focus shifted; she turned inward, and her eyes, her face, went blank for a moment. Then she spoke. “Xanthar isn’t at the battle, is he? He is dead.” It wasn’t really a question. Tanis nodded.

  Lida swallowed hard and dipped her head. When she looked up, there was new resolution in her eyes. She faced Janusz. A flicker of puzzlement showed in the older mage’s face. She addressed the Valdane, who noted her movements warily. “You knew my mother long ago,” she said. “You tormented her ceaselessly, until she called on those who would succor her, and escaped. It was to her eternal sorrow, I believe, that she couldn’t take her young daughter with her, but the rules of Darken Wood are strange and often unfathomable … as I well know.”

  Lida drew another breath; her voice grew stronger. “When the time came, she appeared to help me.” Lida clasped her hands and recited,

  “The lovers three, the spell-cast maid,

  The tie of filial love abased,

  Foul legions turned, the blood flows free,

  Frozen deaths in snow-locked waste.

  Evil vanquished, gemstone’s might.

  “Two of the three lovers appear to be gone, Valdane,” Lida went on. “But I am three, too. I am Lida Tenaka, handmaiden to the Valdane’s daughter,” she said. “Or so I appear to you.” Her hands untied a pouch at her waist, took out a pinch of herb dust, then opened another sack with the same fluid movement.

  “I am also Kai-lid Entenaka of Darken Wood, friend and student of the mentor, Xanthar,” she went on.

  She tossed the herbs into the air; red and blue dust caught in her sleek black hair.

  “Temporus vivier,” she whispered. “Reveal, reveal.”

  At that instant, Lida’s hair gleamed ash-blond, not black. The Valdane uttered a cry. The woman’s azure gaze, so like her father’s, skewered the Valdane.

  “And finally I am Dreena ten Valdane,” she concluded, “saved from death by magefire through the love of my servant.”

  Janusz moaned deeply and spoke a word of magic. At that moment, Tanis was able to push forward; the spell of protection had dissipated. The half-elf flung Dreena aside, even as the Valdane dove for her. Tanis hurtled toward Janusz and drove his sword deep into the wizened mage’s breast.

  The older mage collapsed without another word. At the same time, the Valdane screamed in agony, crashing to the floor at Dreena’s feet. Blood spurted from the leader’s chest, not from Janusz’s, although the sword stuck in Janusz’s breast.

  The sound of chanting rose behind Tanis. Dreena was twirling around slowly, hands outstretched, an ice jewel in each cupped palm. “Terminada a ello. Entondre du shirat.” She swirled faster, her slippered feet a blur at the hem of her robe. “Terminada a ello. Entondre du shirat.” Tanis heard a groan come from the walls around him. At that, Dreena slowed and halted. She shook her head, tears in her eyes, and spoke. “Janusz’s death will bring destruction. I have done what I could to give us some time to escape. But we must leave now, quickly.”

  “And the jewels?” Tanis asked, hurrying to the unconscious Kitiara and gathering her in his arms.

  Without a word, Dreena flung the stones from her with a spasm of disgust.

  Beads of water appeared on the ice wall. The dying Valdane tried to reach for an ice jewel, but Tanis kicked the stone out of his reach. Suddenly, as the room grew warmer, the floor turned damp and slick. Tanis and Dreena made their way carefully to the door. They paused at Caven’s body. “We’ll have to leave him,” Dreena murmure
d.

  “I know.” Tanis offered a silent farewell to the Kernan. The ice blocks were gradually giving way. At the doorway, Dreena hesitated, looking back at the mage who had loved her, and her father who had betrayed her, but Tanis forced her out into the corridor.

  The mage had slumped to the dais. The Valdane tried to crawl after the trio, but he collapsed after a few feet.

  Snow sifted from the ceiling, a gray-white veil drawing a curtain on the room of the dead and the dying.

  “Tanis! Hurry!”

  Tanis ran down the corridor after Dreena. Suddenly the ice walls lost their illumination, plunging them into total darkness.

  “Janusz is dead. Thus so is my father,” Dreena said flatly. “Shirak.”

  Magelight glowed around them, lighting their way. Dreena halted in confusion in the maze of corridors. “This way,” shouted the half-elf, and guided by the magelight, he sped down one corridor, Kitiara a heavy weight across his shoulder. Soon Tanis saw the rope coiled at the portal above the dungeon. He slid to a halt at the opening. “Can you levitate us up through the crevasse?” he asked the mage.

  “I don’t know,” she replied. “I can tr—”

  A roar interrupted her words. The two of them leaped back as tons of snow crashed down from above the dungeon.

  “The crevasse,” Dreena said weakly, her face paling to porcelain in the magelight.

  “Is there another way out?” Tanis demanded.

  “Not that I know of.” At that instant, Dreena grabbed the half-elf’s arm and towed him back up the corridor. “Janusz’s quarters!” she shouted back. “His books!”

  Many of the corridors had collapsed inward by now. Tanis, burdened by Kitiara, stepped carefully over the ice shards and drifted snow that impeded their path. He saw the luminous circle of magelight disappear through a door, and followed.

  Then ensued a supreme test of the half-elf’s patience. As the ice palace crumbled around them, he had to wait while Dreena riffled through the mage’s parchments and books, then, when she crowed with joy and burrowed into one bound sheaf of parchment, he had to wait minutes longer while she studied and memorized the appropriate spell.