Castle of Deception bt-1

by Mercedes Lackey

  “It’s me. Lydia. It’s all right, kid, I had my head turned away. I can still see where I’m going.”

  Unfortunately, so could the guards. And a whole troop of them was flooding into the square, weapons drawn, far too many to fight.

  “Damn,” Lydia muttered. “Selden really is out for blood. No worse damage to a politician than injured pride.” She looked over the grim, well-armed troop and sighed. “I hate to simply surrender, particularly since Selden isn’t going to make things comfortable for us, but ...”

  “Then don’t,” Tich’ki snapped.

  Hovering in mid-air, wings a blur, she stared at the guards, shouting out twisting, intricate, commanding Words in the fairy tongue, her eyes blazing green fire.

  And to Kevin’s amazement, the guards stopped in their tracks, blinking in confusion.

  “Where’d they go ...?”

  “Coulda sworn they were here a minute ago ...”

  “Who ... ? Who are we looking for ... ?”

  “Don’t know ... can’t remember ..—Hey, come on, guys! Day’s not getting any younger, and we have a city to cover!”

  With that, the guards turned and marched away.

  “I don’t believe it,” the bardling gasped. “Tich’ki, what did you—Tich’ki!”

  She came tumbling down into his arms, panting—For a moment Kevin gingerly held her small body, astonished at how light she was, even for her small size. Of course she’s light! he realized. Tich’ki’s a winged creature; she has to be lightweight if she’s going to get off the ground. Probably has hollow bones, like a bird or—

  A sudden sharp stab in his arm made Kevin gasp and drop her. The fairy, who’d pinched him with her hard little fingers, fluttered away, grinning in mischief even though her eyes were weary. “Hoodoo! That, I don’t mind telling you, was hard work.”

  “What was that?” Lydia asked. “That ‘influence-their-minds’ spell of yours?”

  Tich’ki nodded. “You know it. And you know the thing works.”

  “Sure. If you can get enough force into it.”

  For once, Tich’ki didn’t argue. “Right. It’s not the sort of thing I want to do too often.” But then her sharp grin returned. “It’s so much easier lifting purses!”

  “I’m sure that’s true,” Eliathanis cut in coolly. “But rather than discuss thieving triumphs, don’t you think we had best find shelter before one or another of our enemies returns?”

  “Excellent idea,” Lydia said with a wry little bow. “I need to repair my bowstring anyhow, curse that filthy excuse for an elf.”

  Eliathanis stiffened indignantly, plainly torn between the evidence of his own eyes and his refusal to accept that one of his people could sink so low. “Have you any idea where we should be heading?”

  “Yup.” Lydia pointed. “North, guys—The inn’s called the Flying Swan. You’ll know it by the sign. Innkeeper doesn’t ask awkward questions of his guests and keeps the beds vermin-free.”

  “What more could we possibly want?” Naitachal asked wryly.

  Lydia shrugged. “Kevin and I will register as ...” She glanced the bardling’s way, mischief in her eyes. “As friends. Good friends. Very good friends. Right, my lover boy?” She grinned as he reddened, and took his arm. “See you later, everyone!”

  Ah well, the bardling told himself resolutely. Let her have her fun. Not much you can do to stop her, anyhow.

  Lydia’s teasing aside, it would be wonderful to be in a nice dean room again, with a nice hot meal and maybe even—oh miracle of miracles—a soft bed’

  Chapter XIV

  A half-turn of the hourglass later, Kevin wasn’t feeling quite so smug. Lydia, the bardling’s cloak draped not quite concealingly about herself and her scanty garb, was clinging to his arm, giggling all too convincingly as he signed the register and tried to act as though “Estban Eitar” checked into inns with attractive older women all the time.

  He was still blushing even after they had settled into their room—particularly when he saw that the furnishings consisted mostly of one large bed.

  “You could hardly have asked for two beds, sweetie,” Lydia cooed. “Not and keep up this cuddly-wuddly pretense.” To his utter mortification, she snuggled up against him, fluttering her eyelashes elaborately, and pinched his cheek. “Cute li’l lover boy!”

  “Stop that!’’

  “My, my, you do blush prettily!

  “Aw, don’t—”

  A sharp rap on the closed shutters of the single window interrupted him. With a silent sigh of relief, Kevin unlatched the shutters and let; in the rest of their party. Lydia might be a warrior, but she was far too attractive for his nerves!

  “And you complain about clumsy humans, do you?” Naitachal was murmuring to Eliathanis as they climbed into the room.

  The White Elf glared.” How was I to know the drainpipe wasn’t secure?”

  “You did make a most convincing spider, clinging to the wall with every digit,”

  “You could have helped me!”

  “What, and spoil your acrobatic demonstration?” As Naitachal removed and neatly shook out the folds of his black cloak, he gave Kevin a secret but undeniable wink. “A pretty thing it was, too.”

  Eliathanis straightened. “I don’t think—”

  “A pity.”

  “Uh, fellows?” the bardling cut in. “I know you’re enjoying this bickering, but can we please leave it for some other time? We’ve had a rather busy day, agreed?”

  “Oh, agreed.” Naitachal raised an eyebrow. “I think we’d best keep watch tonight. If Eliathanis and I could climb up here, so could someone else.”

  “Empty Eyes?” Kevin asked. “Ah, I mean, that elf, the leader of the gang.” The bardling paused. “Whatever he is.”

  “Empty Eyes,” Naitachal echoed darkly. “Well put, Kevin. Empty, he most surely is. I don’t know what his problems might be, what he’s doing here, why he’s an exile from ha dan—Oh, don’t give me that haughty stare, White Elf, you know I’m right about that. And frankly, I don’t care about those problems. I felt Death hovering over him. Between drugs and alcohol and botched attempts at sorcery, he hasn’t much longer to live.”

  “Botched!”

  The Dark Elf shrugged. “You’ve seen my conjured blade. His should have been just as impressive. But it was as dull and nearly dead as the fading life force within him.” Naitachal shrugged. “Enough about him.”

  “I’d just like to know who hired him,” Kevin cut in.

  Eliathanis glanced at the bardling in respect. “The swords those thugs were carrying bothered you, too? Swords are expensive things; most brigands just can’t afford them, or the time needed to learn how to use them.”

  “Great,” Lydia muttered. “Just what we need: another enemy. The sooner we get out of here, the better we’re going to sleep,”

  “Exactly. And,” Kevin added sternly, “that’s why we can’t waste any more time. We have to start working on exactly how we’re going to manage to escape.”

  “Bossy human,” Tich’ki ceased, but for once there wasn’t much sting in her voice. “Ai-yi, I’m getting pretty tired of Westerin myself,” she confessed. “Too many touchy guards for my taste. Let’s see, now ... I can not control every blasted guard that’s going to be watching the city gates. Anyone else here able to work invisibility spells?”

  Silence.

  “I guess not,” the fairy said with a sigh.

  “What about illusions, though?” Lydia asked. “What if we cast some really terrifying illusion, something that would scare the guards away from one of the gates—”

  “By ‘we’ you mean me, I take it?” Naitachal said drily. He shook his head. “Oh, I probably could work up something to frighten a human mind, even if illusion-casting is a bit outside the scope of my ... art But these are trained warriors, not children. Some of them might run, yes—but the rest would almost certainly attack. I don’t care to test my body against their spears.”

  “We need
something more tangible than illusion,” Kevin mused. “Shape-shifting ... except only one of us can shape-shift.” He glanced at the Dark Elf. “What about disguising us by magic?”

  Naitachal held up a helpless hand. “Now that really is out of the scope of my sorcery. Anyone else?”

  “Hey, don’t look at me!” Tich’ki said. “I can’t change anyone but myself.”

  “I have no such talent,” Eliathanis admitted.

  “Well, I certainly don’t!” Lydia added. “Besides, I’ve heard those spells are just as easy to break as illusions. The last thing we’d want is to suddenly change back right in the middle of the guards—And you know. Fate being the fickle lady she is, that’s just what would happen! No, we need some more mundane disguises. Something that doesn’t depend on magic ... Naw, any ordinary disguises would be too easy to penetrate.”

  “Would they?” Kevin wondered—”Go on, Lydia. What of roid physical disguises?”

  She gave him a doubtful glance, but continued, “Well, let’s see ... By now both the gang and the guards know they’re looking for three men and a woman: two humans and two elves, one Dark, one White. Don’t have to worry about disguising Tich’ki.”

  The fairy stretched her wings. “Right. I can always shrink and hide in your hair, the way we did when we were getting out of Smithian.”

  “But it’s hard to hide elves ....”

  “Not too easy to disguise such a ... charmingly endowed woman, either,” Naitachal added gallantly.

  Lydia raised a brow. “Flattery from a Dark Elf?”

  His smile was wry. “It does happen.” ““Yes, yes, I know you’re full of surprises,” Kevin interrupted. “But can we please get back to the subject?”

  ‘Jealous?” Tich’ki prodded.

  “No! I just don’t want to spend the rest of my life in a Westerin prison. Or a Westerin graveyard, either’”

  “Right.” Lydia returned to her musing. “All right. We agree that it’s hard to disguise elves.”

  Naitachal held up a hand. “To disguise male elves ...” he corrected slowly. “Particularly serious, combative types.” He turned to look at Eliathanis, who narrowed his eyes.

  “I don’t think I like what you’re thinking.”

  Naitachal shrugged. “You’re the one who was .., interrogating the dancing girls. I’m sure they’d be happy to help their dear elfy-welty.”

  “They didn’t call me that! And I can’t—I won’t ...”

  The Dark Elf smiled alarmingly. “You can. You will. They did. Listen to me, my friends. I think we’re about to find a way out of Westerin!”

  Kevin squirmed uncomfortably in the saddle of the riding mule, trying to get the yards and yards of gauzy, gaudy skirts to spread out properly, grimly trying to ignore the pretty chiming of little silver bells every time he moved.

  “Don’t squirm, dear,” Lydia cooed. “It tears threads.”

  Kevin glared at her. The warrior was a sugar-sweet confection, her tanned face softened with powder and paint, her lithe, muscular form disguised by a frilly bodice and layer after layer of gauzy skirts in a dozen shades of pink. A silky cloak of dusty rose shot through with gold threads was thrown over the whole thing, her black curls—and Tich’ki—hidden under its cowl. Yes, but at least she’s a woman! I feel like an idiot.

  What made it worse was that he knew he looked rather alarmingly like a girl in all this frippery: a slightly scrawny one, perhaps, a bit too athletic even for a dancer, but a girl nevertheless. The bardling rubbed a reflexive hand over his chin, not sure whether to be discouraged or glad right now that at almost sixteen he still didn’t need to shave very often. Smooth cheeks would help the illusion.

  If only the illusion wasn’t quite so good!

  Eliathanis, riding beside Naitachal, was plainly feeling the same way, sitting his mule in silent misery. Kevin bit back a laugh. What a pretty girl the White Elf made!

  Both elves were, of course, slim and beardless as all their kind, and despite Eliathanis’ martial calling, their long, silky hair and elegant, fine-boned faces made it quite easy for them to pass as women. Naitachal’s dark skin had been lightened to a more nondescript tan with judicious use of powder, making him look more like a half-elven hybrid than a perilous Dark Elf. Unlike the unhappy Eliathanis, he seemed to be having a wonderful time.

  After all, Kevin mused, how often does a necromancer get a chance to act silly?

  It had been Eliathanis’ dancing girls, of course, who had lent them all this gear, with the understanding that it would be left for the dancers to gather up again outside the walls. The dancers, the bardling decided, were definitely getting the better of the deal, winding up with what was left of Lydia’s not quite honestly gained coins as well as getting their gear back.

  Well, actually, it was Councilman Selden who was paying for the whole thing. In a manner of speaking, anyhow.

  Kevin censed suddenly. There to one side stood Empty Eyes, the elven leader of the street gang.

  “Gently,” Naitachal murmured. “You’re a harmless dancing girl, that’s all you are.” The Dark Elf straightened slightly, startled, then chuckled. “Well now, what do you know?” he continued softly. “Our disguises really do work! Did you feel that slight tingling just now?”

  “Yes.”

  “That dissipated shame of an elf tried casting a Dispel Magic spell on us!”

  Naitachal leaned sideways in the saddle to give Empty Eyes a flirtatious wink and a blown kiss—Kevin exploded into laughter, just in time managing to turn it into girlish titterings.

  “L-look at his face! He—he—he doesn’t know what hit him!”

  Naitachal swept back his silky hair with a toss of his head. “Too skinny for my taste!” he declared in a light tenor so unlike his usual baritone that Kevin burst into laughter all over again.

  Eliathanis shot the Dark Elf a dour glance. “Stop that! Show some—some self-control!”

  Naitachal grinned. “Loosen up, dear! You look ravishing.”

  “Leave me alone, will you? Or are you really enjoying this?”

  The Dark Elf’s grin widened. “Of course I am! Come now, cousin-elf, where’s the harm in it? It’s rather fun to play pretend!”

  Eliathanis only growled. Kevin wiped his eyes, trying not to smear his makeup, hearing Tich’ki, there in Lydia’s hair, tittering so hard she was having trouble catching her breath.

  “Straighten up, dears,” Lydia cooed. “Here are the guards. Look pretty, now!”

  Kevin tensed all over again, seeing the men’s grimfaced competence, the weapons never far from their hands, hearing the guards muttering something about “Selden” and “Those thieves aren’t going to get past us.” Sure, their disguise had been good enough Co fool Empty Eyes, who had probably been drunk or half-drugged anyhow. But these were sharp-eyed professionals. Could it possibly fool them as well?

  Apparently it could. “Look at the girl in pink,” one said, nudging another. “Bet she’d warm a cold night!”

  “Warm it, hell, she’d set it on fire!”

  “The one next to her’s not bad, either.” Mortified, Kevin realized they were discussing him now.

  “Awfully stringy,” someone muttered.

  “But there’s something to be said for those acrobatic types!” The guard who’d first spoken leered up at the bardling. “Come on, sweetie, give us a kiss for the road.”

  Feeling tike a prize idiot, Kevin managed to work his lips into what he hoped was a flirtatious smile. To his horror, the guard reached up, trying to pull his head down. Before the bardling could panic, Naitachal leaned down to whisper conspiratorially:

  “You don’t want to kiss her.”

  “Oh, I don’t, do I?”

  “Heavens, no! The last man she kissed got so hot and worked up he followed her for days. We finally had to throw him in a lake to cool him off. You would not have believed the steam!”

  All the guards laughed. “Bet you could raise some steam,” one of them shouted.

>   “Oh, darling, you wouldn’t believe what 1 can do!” Naitachal gave them all a dazzling smile—”My, my, my, what handsome fellows you all are! What a shame we have to leave just now.” The very essence of a delighted dancing girl, the Dark Elf laughed and simpered and blew kisses at them all—Only Kevin caught the faint hint of contempt flickering in the kohl-rimmed blue eyes. “Now, we really must say good-bye,” Naitachal said, pretending to pout—”We have such a long way to go!”