"We have prisoners," Gideon said to the guards in his best Taldan accent.
"I don't recognize you," said their leader. At least he didn't object to the accent.
The collaborator said, "He's new. We're getting some fresh faces, seeing as we're about to see action."
"I do recognize you," put in the woman in wizard's robes, looking as though she regretted the fact. Her accent was Chelish. "Where's your superior?"
"He had to see to something down below."
The guard commander said, "Wait here." He was about to climb the spiral stairs when a runner came up the stairs behind.
"Sergeant!" said the young man, out of breath. "No one can find the lieutenant."
The sergeant stepped down and scrutinized the newcomers anew. "Too many strange events. I don't like this at all." Glancing to his left and right he said, "You and you, take the prisoners to the cells." To the collaborator, he said, "You'll be staying here. Tambour'll—"
Gideon didn't need to hear the whole performance to know the genre of the music. He snared a feather and tiny fruit tarts from his spell component pouch, and incanted the syllables to invoke uncontrollable laughter.
(In his mind there was no fresh joke for this situation, though if he had one, it would have begun, A bard, a knight, and a bunch of sailors walked into an evil wizard's tower. They really wished it was a bar.)
Luckily, the Chelish wizard was either unfamiliar with this particular spell, or else was simply startled by the sight of Gideon talking with his mouth full while waving a feather at the sergeant's nose.
The spell worked. The sergeant shuddered in a fit of cackling, toppling to the floor and rolling about in hideous glee.
The wizard snarled and backed away, narrowly saving herself from being bashed by Merrigail's shield.
The collaborator pursued her with his sword, perhaps preferring this to battling his former comrades. Briar wasted no time tossing out weapons and snatching up the sergeant's.
The three guards at the spiral stairway, although startled, were not about to stand idle. Gideon found himself ducking beneath the thrust of one Taldan, while Briar parried the swing of another, getting knocked backward in the process. A third engaged Merrigail.
Behind the intruders, the runner from below bellowed for help. Gideon heard the shout cut off by the sounds of a struggle, but was too preoccupied with the sword in his face to get a good look.
The next moment something quite different preoccupied him.
The Chelish wizard spoke words of triumphant arcane gibberish. A swath of brilliant violet flame slashed across the room, rising from floor to ceiling. It cut off about a third of the room, leaving the descending stairway on one side, the central pillar on the other.
It also burned through the collaborator, and Tyndron, and Asta.
The first fell and did not rise; the second dropped and rolled; the third, still burning, charged toward the Chelish wizard like a flaming longship of the dead.
The defenders took heart. Merrigail was startled and pushed back by her foe. Adebeyo was engaged in a knife-fight with the runner. Briar was knocked to the floor by his own foe, and Dymphna and Hammerton tried to protect him. Gideon narrowly escaped perforation.
This was not the sort of battle that provided nice, neat geometries. Yet Lion Blade training wasn't about conventional battle lines. He growled in his throat and heard the words once more. We are always with you, brother! No force in the world can stop you!
He ducked, rolled, and let the momentum carry him toward the spiral stairs. Once there, he leapt, grabbed at the metal, and swung toward the wizard, feet first.
He connected, disrupting whatever eldritch formula she'd commenced, leaving her open to Asta's attack.
By now his original opponent had followed him. He kicked at the man's sword hand, and by some fierce luck managed to throw off his aim.
Your claws will tear the foe! Your fangs will rip the enemy!
Gideon took advantage of the opening to launch himself at the man, jabbing with his dagger, punching, kicking, until he lost himself in the flurry of the battle, not entirely conscious of his goal until he'd maneuvered the shocked guard into the curtain of fire. As the man shrieked, Adebeyo's dagger claimed him from the other side.
"Thanks," gasped Gideon.
"Look to Asta!" said Adebeyo.
Too late. A blast resembling Karcuna's lightning bolt dazzled Gideon's vision, and he only barely shifted out of its way.
Asta was not so lucky. She fell.
By now Tyndron was up, his clothing still smoking. With a savage swing, he felled the wizard.
Gideon and Tyndron at her side, Asta tried to speak.
"I sail now..."
"Asta—" said Tyndron.
"She's gone," said Gideon.
When he looked up, a dread hush came upon the room, save for the crackling of the magical flames and the sergeant's mad laughter.
Seven of them now.
Gideon, Tyndron, and Merrigail had ended up on one side of the fire. Adebeyo, Dymphna, Hammerton, and Briar were on the other.
Merrigail bound and gagged the sergeant.
Gideon said, "I don't know how long this fire will last."
There came from far outside the sound of horns, and battle-cries from many throats.
"The River Guard!" Merrigail said.
"Let's hope Viridia succeeded," Tyndron said.
"Adebeyo," Gideon said, "you'd better judge the situation as best you can. If you think you must come through the fire before it goes out, follow us. If not, defend the stairs and hope the River Guard arrives soon."
"Agreed."
"Good luck," said Dymphna.
"We'll hold them off, Commander," said Hammerton.
"Thank you," said Merrigail, "all of you."
Three of them now.
They ascended into Sebastian's lair. The stairway rose through a stone barrier for perhaps thirty feet, and the sounds of flame and battle faded behind.
Gideon pushed open a trapdoor as quietly as he dared.
As it happened, he was expected.
"Mmph!" came Corvine's voice.
"I was wrong about you in many ways," said Sebastian. "But I was right that you were a good recruit for the Shadow School."
Gideon let the trapdoor fall open. He scrambled for cover in the dimly lit space.
They were in a wide, circular chamber lit by eight windows, all thrown open to the elements, silvery light piercing the eastern side. The room was furnished as a study, and Gideon was reminded both of Headmaster Xeritian's office back in Oppara, and of Admiral Kasaba's meeting room in Cassomir. There was a desk, several bookshelves, various chests, a table with outspread maps, globes of more than one planet, and a sleeping cot.
There was also a pit. A great circular hole filled the center of the floor like the opening to an oubliette, matching the position of the great pillar that had risen through the whole tower.
Corvine's hands were tied behind her back, and there was a cloth gagging her mouth. Sebastian held her at the edge of the pit, ready to shove.
Sebastian looked weary."I'm sorry. Corvine deserves better. She fought fiercely when she emerged from the secret passage."
She tried to stomp his foot, but he evaded her, keeping her at the edge.
"Once I knew she was here, I knew you'd be on your way, too. The fog itself's been hinting of it."
From behind an annotated globe of the green planet Castrovel, Gideon answered,"Just let her go."
"Sorry, no. She's how I make you listen."
"Ungag her, at least."
"Ungag a hostile bard? No."
There was something pensive about Sebastian, even in the midst of his threats. Something had unnerved him. The others were emerging and likewise seeking cover. Good. If Sebastian wanted to talk, let him talk, while they all prepared to fight. "What makes you think she's hostile?" Gideon asked.
"Ha!"
"Grmph!" said Corvine.
"So you w
ant me to listen," Gideon said. "Say what you'll say."
"Go home, Gideon. Just stay out of my way. Soon this will all be over, and everyone will accept the result. You were always meant to be on my side, to help convince the Andorens of our cause. I thought it would help to have you witness events on the Andoren border, see what monsters your democratic countrymen would become with just a little push. Just like in Galt. But you're too stubborn, and the War Fog is too unmanageable. I was a fool."
Corvine snorted.
"I think she thinks you're a master of understatement."
Merrigail and Tyndron had taken up positions around the room. Together with Gideon they formed a triangle around Sebastian.
Yet Sebastian could easily fling Corvine to her death.
"Leave, Gideon. I'll give her back to you if you swear on your brother's grave you'll depart—stay back, Merrigail!"
Merrigail, who from behind a bookshelf had tensed for a lunge, edged backward. "This is about more than Gideon, Sebastian," she said. "He can't speak for me."
"I've been sentimental. Sadly, I should have eliminated you both, as I did Xeritian, once he began investigating my doings. Friendship is a luxury."
"Friendship!" Tyndron spat from behind a globe of Akiton, red planet of war. "You know nothing of friendship, traitor."
"Surrender, Sebastian," said Merrigail.
"I'll always respect you, Merrigail. But the time for Andoran's independence has passed. It's time to come home. Mother, come forth!"
An eerie keening arose from down the shaft. Bursting forth like water from a geyser came the War Fog. At it heart there seemed to dance a shape, a beautiful elven woman with a hint of cruelty to her features, and more than a touch of resemblance to Sebastian.
The look she offered Gideon mixed fury with maternal concern. She seemed animalistic, not quite sapient, as though the imprinted personality danced on a knife-edge dividing self-awareness from pure hunger.
"He won't help us, Mother! But there are those who will. The River Guard attacks the gate—go to them. Turn all of them you can!"
Out the open window she flew. Behind her trailed white-green mist like the body of a cloudy serpent.
Sebastian said, "You may think she's a monster, but she's Taldor's salvation."
"Not according to your father," Gideon said. "He spoke to me, you know. His ghost. You know what he said?"
"My father?" Sebastian looked startled.
Corvine acted. This time her foot connected with Sebastian's, and she threw him off balance, into the vast coil of fog. She broke free, teetering at the pit's edge. Tyndron was closest, and he sprang to grab her before she plunged. He worked at the knot binding her wrists.
Gideon and Merrigail engaged Sebastian. But Sebastian had reason for his arrogant self-confidence. Tentacles of fog formed at the half-elf's gesture and lashed out at his former companions. They hit like whips. But worse than the pain was seeing the faces within it, dimly glimpsed visions of Asta and Grizzendell, Leothric and Xeritian, so many others all the way back to Gideon's brother, Gareth. Gideon shuddered, struggling to avert his gaze.
When he did, he saw Merrigail transfixed by the fog as well.
"Zethril!" Sebastian shouted. "Get in here!"
"I'm busy," came the voice of the former bosun. And now he saw Zethril beyond the window, backing up along a narrow ledge and jabbing his sword at Ozrif, who advanced with a pair of blades in his juggler's hands.
"Ozrif!" said Gideon.
"Sorry for the delay." Ozrif tossed a sword to the now-freed Corvine, who grabbed it mid-air.
Sebastian tumbled to engage her, with dagger drawn. Meanwhile, the War Fog weaved and writhed, lashing at Sebastian's foes. Gideon shut his eyes and ran through it to reach Sebastian.
He opened them a little too early, and again his vision swam with the images of those who'd died. He sank to one knee.
A female voice shouted, but it was not his dark muse. It was Viridia.
"You are loved, brothers!" she sang out. "You will triumph! Your claws will tear the foe! Your fangs will rip the enemy!"
There she was, at the westernmost window. She leapt into the room and commenced to spin, her bardic presence energizing the moves of a whirling dance of Qadira, a war dance, embodying the paradox of serenity in motion. It was as though Viridia's blurred form was the center of the turning universe, telling Gideon the cosmos itself wanted him to endure.
He rose.
Sebastian reeled away as Gideon lunged with his dagger, then riposted, slashing a wicked cut into Gideon's arm.
Corvine swung at Sebastian, with much the same result as Gideon. "Keep...pressing him...Gideon..."
Now Merrigail was here, too; perhaps Viridia's song had broken the fog's hold. And Ozrif had entered, Zethril pursuing.
"Allow me to trade opponents," Tyndron said to Ozrif, and the two elves squared off, their swords dancing a waltz with an inevitably bloody finale.
Gideon, Merrigail, and Ozrif jabbed, swung, and kicked, while Viridia whirled and Sebastian danced between opponents, stabbing at his former colleagues' vitals. Yet they began landing blows against him—nothing deadly, but enough to rattle the man.
"Surrender," Merrigail repeated. "The battle turns."
"Which battle?" Sebastian said.
In the distance they could hear the panicked cries of soldiers, and the shouts of frothers.
"So," Zethril was saying to Tyndron. "I get to put you in your place at last."
"My kind grew tough on Golarion, while yours sunned yourselves in Sovyrian."
Zethril's retort was in Elven, as was the subsequent duel of words. The duel of steel went on without either side gaining the advantage.
Suddenly there burst up the stairs the welcome faces of Adebeyo, Dymphna, Hammerton, and Briar, followed by shouts of pursuit. Adebeyo took one look around, slammed shut the trapdoor, and supervised the others in sliding furniture to cover it. Pounding commenced from below.
The trapdoor began to burn.
"Devils?" Gideon said.
"They're becoming ubiquitous!" said Adebeyo.
Gideon sliced Sebastian's shoulder, and for once the man didn't spin away. Merrigail cut his leg. Ozrif didn't land a blow, but his movements hemmed Sebastian in, and now Sebastian teetered at the edge of the pit, just as Corvine had.
Corvine herself gestured and sang, and Gideon caught the words, "Look at me, Sebastian Tambour; look at one who views you with horror."
In a sense, it was the opposite of Corvine's spell of loathing. Although Sebastian didn't cease fighting, his eyes couldn't turn away from her. He still fended off attacks, but surrounded and compelled to study one foe, it was a losing battle. "Mother!" he called.
There was a great roiling in the mist, and it was as though some ship of cloud-dwelling giants was hauling in the anchor line.
Viridia danced faster, pouring her magic into her movements, spinning it out to touch her comrades, invigorating them. Sweat glistened on her face.
The white visage of Sebastian's mother flowed into the chamber. Tendrils of fog representing her dress lashed out and engulfed Tyndron and Zethril where they dueled. The elves shuddered, for the moment forgetting their feud.
"Mother, destroy them!"
Whether it was Viridia's dance that emboldened Merrigail, or simply Commander Hannison's inherent selfless bravery, the Eagle Knight ran to the window to intercept the War Fog.
Gideon found himself transfixed by the sight. Merrigail swung at the cloudy entity, and her sword passed through it harmlessly. But the fog reached out with ivory hands and clutched Merrigail's throat. As the Eagle Knight shuddered, the entity shrieked.
Merrigail fell as though her legs had been cut out beneath her.
Gideon felt a nothingness as deep as the pit nearby. Only it was inside him, had always been inside him, had been torn open the day Gareth died and had never gone away. It had merely scabbed closed, ready to be torn open to admit the darkness once more.
The world
seemed to pivot and blur, and a portion of his mind that still struggled to sift and analyze realized the despair was in part the effect of the wail. Yet not all.
"Merrigail!" people were shouting, but he heard Corvine and Viridia's voices the loudest.
For a moment everyone hesitated, even the War Fog.
Corvine's spell ended. Sebastian stared at Merrigail's body.
Viridia left off her dancing, and ran to face him. Her voice was ragged. "She's dead!"
"Merrigail..." Sebastian said.
"She might have loved you," Corvine said.
"Was it worth it?" Gideon demanded.
The fog's hesitation continued. Sebastian shook, and Gideon had the sensation that he was looking at two components of the same living thing: one flesh, one fog.
He stared. Something was changing.
Within the fog, beyond the ghost-witch, stood the indistinct image of an old wizard, as if in a portal to some mist-shrouded otherworld.
"You act as if Taldor's a parent you must live up to," Gideon said to his former friend, watching the shade of Tarquin. "But Taldor is more like you, Sebastian. A grown man who must learn to make his own way. A man who must let go of what's past. That, perhaps, is something your father would like to see."
"How dare you speak of him?"
"Ask him yourself." Gideon pointed into the fog.
And he saw that Sebastian saw.
Stranger still, his "mother" saw. She turned around and gazed into the realm of mists and memory and beheld the figure of her husband.
With a cry, she ran toward him, the two figures seeming to diminish, as if into the distance. It did not have the look of a friendly reunion.
"This isn't possible," Sebastian said.
"No?" Corvine said, nodding at Gideon. "Think of it, Tambour. If your mother's personality survived within the fog—"
"—why not your father's?" Gideon said. "Weaker, perhaps, unable to reach you or take control. But still present. Still grieving. And as we grew nearer Mistwatch, he found a way to influence events."
"She'll destroy him..." Sebastian said. "Mother will destroy him."
An explosion of fire blew open the trapdoor and toppled the burning furniture. Hammerton, Briar, and Adebeyo were knocked from their feet as well.
The Dagger of Trust Page 31
