by Barb Hendee
"You… your sages… your damn Forgotten History! Or don't you remember what Chap found in Most Aged Father's memories? Undead by the hundreds-or thousands-slaughtering every living thing in their path. And where do you think they came from?"
Magiere pointed her blade at Li'kan.
"Look at this thing! One of those who brought everything to an end… and you want to read to it!"
An uneasy truce had emerged, and Magiere watched Li'kan crouch beside the passage's exit. Beyond, down the row of bookcases, Wynn sat with Osha. Sgaile stood over the pair as the sage ate sparingly from their rations. Sitting beside her, Chap snapped up a piece of dried fish.
Li'kan stayed put but never took her eyes off the sage. Wynn watched her in turn between eager glances at the shelves.
A vibrancy had grown inside Magiere, shuddering through her bones.
At the courtyard gates, when Leesil had told her to get control, she had pressed her dhampir nature down-and that shiver had emerged in her awareness. Or had it been there all along as they approached the castle, only masked by hunger, fury, and the longing that drove her to this place?
She tried to suppress the tremors, as she had within elven tree homes, with their forest's life threading into her. But here, only the castle's cold stone and the ice-capped mountains surrounded them. So what was it that… fed her?
Magiere studied Li'kan, one of Welstiel's "old ones." What fed this monster, alone for so long in this dead place?
"That circlet around her neck," Leesil whispered, "it looks like yours. What does it mean?"
"I don't know," she answered.
Magiere wanted to rend this white monster and leave nothing but ashes in its place. Sgaile approached, slowing with care as he passed wide around Li'kan.
"There is more writing on these walls," he said. "Wynn believes it was all written by this creature, who does not remember that the words are hers… and more of her kind once existed here, at least two others."
"What is she feeding on?" Magiere asked.
"Nothing could live up… " Sgaile began, then lifted his eyes angrily. "Is feeding?"
Leesil tucked in close to Magiere. "I doubt she fed on those anmaglahk we found-by the way she mangled them. But we've never encountered a physical undead that didn't need to feed, somehow, on the living."
Magiere caught Leesil's worried glance. Had he noticed her shaking again or some other sign? She wasn't about to let Sgaile know what she'd suffered in his land, so she had no way to tell Leesil what she felt now. Yes, something in this place was sustaining Li'kan.
"Perhaps the same thing Welstiel hoped to find," Magiere said.
"Are we near it?" Leesil asked.
"Maybe," she replied. "I'll take the lead with Chap. Leesil, you and Sgaile keep that creature ahead of-"
"Not yet," Sgaile cut in. "I have questions."
"You?" Leesil hissed. "You have questions!"
Sgaile's eyes stayed fixed upon Magiere. "That creature is not the only one who stalled amid bloodlust. You halted in midswing… why?"
Magiere didn't know. She had felt suddenly weak, as if her strength had drained away for an instant.
She shook her head. "I just felt heavy, tired, and then it passed."
"That was not the only response you shared with the white woman," Sgaile said.
Magiere instinctively warmed with anger. Before Leesil could snap again, Sgaile went on.
"She echoed your fury. What connection lies between you?"
"What else would you expect?" Magiere spit back. "It's undead. I was born to kill it. And it's not going to just stand there waiting for me to take its head. There's nothing between her and-"
"No," Sgaile snapped, his voice barely above a whisper. "When she stopped and slipped into delirium… even then her expression echoed yours."
Leesil lurched forward, but Sgaile raised one finger at him.
"I know what I saw," he warned; then he walked away with a last hard glance at Magiere as he called out, "Osha, prepare to move on."
Magiere didn't know what to think about Sgaile's veiled accusation. Any denial of her strange reaction to Li'kan, or the other way around, would be a lie.
"Come on," Leesil whispered. "Let's finish this and get out of here."
Li'kan curled her lips back as Magiere walked past.
"Move!" Magiere hissed back.
She headed off along the bookcases, trying to clear her head. Her hunger had waned, and it was barely enough to keep her night sight widened. But the longing was still strong, and it pulled her onward.
Magiere did not get far. They all stopped short at the chamber's far end, facing nothing but a wall of ancient stone blocks. Or that was how it seemed.
A long and rusted iron beam stretched across the wall's length, resting in stone cradles, like a door's bar. And while the stone blocks overlapped in construction, Magiere spotted one seam at the wall's center that ran straight from top to bottom.
Leesil traced the seam with his fingers, from the floor up to the beam as thick as a man's thigh. Twin doors built of mortared stone blocked their way, and Magiere couldn't imagine what hinged mechanism might possibly support them.
The pull inside Magiere told her to pass through these stone doors, to hurry beyond them. But why were they barred from the outside? And how could she and her companions lift the enormous beam, let alone open this massive portal?
Leesil slid sharply away along the wall, his hands dropping to his sheathed blades, and Magiere half-turned, reaching for her falchion.
Li'kan stepped silently up to the doors.
The undead pressed her smooth cheek to the beam's metal, as if listening for something beyond. Then her eyes rolled up. Her small mouth began working again, mumbling mutely.
Chap watched Li'kan slip into another semiconscious state. He reached out again to catch memories surfacing in the undead's mind.
He saw only darkness-but he heard the low, distant hiss again, like a whisper-or was it more like a fire's crackle? The sound sped up, buzzing furiously like leaves or insect wings. Chap lost his concentration as Magiere whispered.
"It's here… behind the wall… these doors. I can feel it."
Something shifted in the dark within Li'kan.
Chap almost missed it. Not a memory, but an awareness. Did Li'kan feel him inside her mind? He panicked and began to pull out-too late.
Something cold struck at him from the dark of Li'kan's mind. It thrashed about inside his thoughts, trying to find him and coil about him… and it took hold.
Chap's yelp echoed in his own ears.
"Stop it!" Leesil growled. "Stay out of that thing's head."
"Wynn, what's wrong?" Magiere shouted.
Chap thrashed wildly, struggling to get free.
The chamber and door walls cleared before his eyes. The only thing holding him was Leesil's hands about his shoulders. Chap settled, still shivering within.
Magiere crouched behind Wynn. The sage sat crumpled upon the floor, one hand over her mouth. She shook uncontrollably as she stared wide-eyed at Chap.
"What… was that?" Wynn whispered. "That buzz from Li'kan's thoughts?"
She had heard it as well-but that should not be possible.
Chap could not think of a reason. She only heard him because a taint of wild magic let her hear when he communed with his kin, the Fay. He had learned to use this to speak to and through her. But somehow, as he was rooting about in the undead's mind, she had heard the same sound as he had. It made no sense.
"What happened?" Magiere demanded.
Chap blinked twice, jowls twitching.
It… something… sensed me, he said to Wynn, and she echoed his words with effort. Something inside Li'kan knew I was there… and wanted me out.
"You all right?" Leesil asked.
No, he was not. Chap remembered an unfamiliar voice in the dark that had whispered to Welstiel and to Ubad. He had little doubt it was the same voice in Magiere's dreams. Now Li'kan was mumbling voicele
ssly to herself-or to something only she could hear.
And Wynn had heard it as well.
Somewhere in this old fortification-among the centuries of records or buried in Li'kan's fragmented mind-might lie an answer. But all Chap could think of now was a "presence" that toyed with undead, manipulated Magiere's dreams, and perhaps held sway over ancient Li'kan.
The "night voice," that ancient enemy of many names, Ubad's sacred il'Samar…
It wanted Magiere to have the artifact her half-brother desired.
Chap did not want Magiere to go any further-but he did not realize that the feeling was more than just anxiety for Magiere. Not until she rose, jerked out her falchion, and glared back the way they had come.
Magiere's black irises expanded. She bolted back toward the passage entrance as Chap cut loose with a rolling howl.
"Undeads!" Leesil shouted, pulling both silvery winged blades.
A white flash passed Chap before he overtook Leesil and Sgaile.
Li'kan left everyone behind as she raced after Magiere.
Chap heard Osha and Wynn scrambling to follow as he ran after the white woman. If other undead had come here, and Magiere found them first, on which side would Li'kan stand?
* * *
Chane followed Welstiel along the castle's pillared wide corridor and the feral monks clambered in behind him, anxiously sniffing about. He followed suit and caught a thin scent, barely noticeable. It reminded him of old, rancid seed oil, but where had he smelled this before?
Welstiel's eyes glittered with anticipation. He kept onward in silence, until they all passed through a tall archway shaped like the outer gates and front doors. Straight ahead, a wide stone stairway led to upper floors, and to the left and right, narrower passages stretched into the dark.
One feral screamed.
Chane whirled, backing away as he pulled his longsword. A shadow shot out between the hunkering monk's shoulder blades and arced into the chamber's upper air.
"Spread out!" Welstiel shouted, pulling his own blade.
Chane turned circles as the monks scattered, snarling and crying out, but he kept his eyes on the shadow above-like a pair of wings gliding on a wind, though no breeze flowed through the dark chamber.
"From the walls!" Welstiel shouted.
Chane spun away toward the foot of the wide stairs. Another shadow stalked in, low to the floor, coming from the archway, a silhouette of black paws stretching up to four narrow legs. As it drew closer, a head and long snout took shape.
A wolf. In two quick steps, it leaped at Chane.
He flinched, unable to dodge away, and it passed straight through his chest.
Chane stumbled as deep cold flooded his torso.
"They cannot damage you!" Welstiel called out. "They are only ghosts!"
"No," Chane rasped, clutching his chest. "They are something else."
Ferals thrashed about, clawing and screeching, as the shadows assaulted them. Welstiel swung his sword, and steel rippled through a shadow bird's flapping wing. But the translucent creature flew higher, unfaltering. Welstiel flung his pack aside.
Chane did the same but peered upward uncertainly. Steel had no effect upon these things.
The two younger monks lost all control, their twisted faces frantic as they slashed at empty air. Jakeb looked even less coherent, though he was silent. Only Sabel and Sethe remained calm and pulled weapons-her knife and his iron cudgel.
Cold pain spiked between Chane's shoulder blades.
He choked as a shadow darted out of his chest. It flew upward, but this time he clearly saw the shape of its head and tail-a raven.
An eerie howl filled the chamber.
Chane quickly scanned about for either shadow wolf, but the howl had come from somewhere more distant. Its dying echo rolled from the narrow passage to the chamber's left side. Yellow-orange light glimmered in the dark therein, and another shadow wolf bolted out of the narrow opening.
No, this one was silver-coated, and Chane recognized Chap.
The dog barreled into the room like a beast gone mad. And directly behind him came the blur of a white figure. Glistening black hair whipped about her naked body. Her wild, slanted eyes glinted.
Chap charged straight at Welstiel, and his howl twisted into raging snarls. A startled Welstiel barely ducked out of the dog's way.
"Assist me!" Welstiel ordered.
Chap wheeled about, charging again, and Jakeb threw himself in the dog's path. Chap snapped and slashed at the monk with fangs and claws, trying to get past. Chane looked back to the naked undead.
Her smooth, perfect face filled with confusion, until one young monk rushed her with hooked fingers. Before the monk landed a grip, she snatched him by the throat, flinging him away one-handed.
The young feral spun head over heels, until his body slammed into the chamber's side wall. He slid down to the floor in a twitching, broken heap, and then ceased moving at all.
Chane turned his eyes back on the woman-this illusory frail thing.
This was one of Welstiel's "old ones."
She could destroy them all effortlessly. Before Chane could look for a way out, another figure emerged from the narrow passage.
Magiere's eyes were black amid the yellow light behind her. She skidded to a stop with her falchion drawn.
Chane's throat tightened at the sight of that blade, but her attention was not fixed on him. Her eyes widened, unblinking, as they locked on Welstiel.
Leesil emerged behind Magiere, wearing a glowing amulet upon his chest. A tall blond elf in a dark tunic came next.
Escape was no longer an option.
Chane readied himself for an onslaught, not knowing who would come at him first.
Chap was still harrying Jakeb, trying to get past to Welstiel, and only three other monks remained on their feet.
"Chane!"
He twisted toward the familiar feminine voice.
Chane froze, staring at Wynn.
A second elf, taller than the first, stood at the passage's arch with his arm wrapped protectively around her. She leaned into the young elf, her cheek pressed against him, and the cold lamp crystal in her hand illuminated her round, olive-toned face. Her small mouth opened halfway at the sight of him, and she clutched the elf's cloak.
Chane went hollow inside.
And that emptiness filled with rage. It built on a desire to tear the elf's arm from its shoulder socket and rip his throat out-anything to take that offensive hold off of Wynn. He almost dropped his sword to free both his hands.
Sabel hissed as she rushed around Chane, straight toward Wynn. He could not grab her in time. Leesil charged out, shining blades in his fists, their outer edges running like wings down his forearms.
Chane snarled, ready to kill the half-blood or jerk Sabel back, whichever of them he caught first.
Sabel swerved, and swung for Leesil's face with her knife.
Wynn pressed against Osha, her emotions in a tangle.
Welstiel was here. How was this possible? And he was surrounded by robed figures casting about and screaming at shadow ravens and wolves. She had seen their tabards before and recognized them-the Sluzhobnek Sutzits, the Servants of Compassion. But they were horrible, twisted and savage. Her heart sickened at their pale skin, colorless eyes, and the misshapen teeth in their snarling mouths.
Only Li'kan stood staring about, as if lost.
And Chane…
Wynn cried out his name before thinking. Truth struck her like poison or sudden illness.
Chane had come with Welstiel… to get the orb.
Chap ripped into one robed undead, tearing the back of its calf, and then charged straight at Welstiel with his muzzle dripping black fluids. The silver-haired monk was too fast and twisted about, back-fisting Chap and driving him off. Chap's voice shouted in Wynn's mind.
Get Magiere away! She must reach the orb first… before Welstiel!
Wynn ducked from under Osha's arm, shouting as she reached for Li'kan.
<
br /> "Magiere, go! You must find it now!"
Aside from Magiere, Li'kan was the only one who might know how to get through the stone doors. Wynn's fingers closed on Li'kan's chill skin, and the undead half-turned.
Li'kan's expression flattened at Wynn's touch.
And Wynn was suddenly aware just how foolish her action was.
Magiere faltered when she saw Welstiel.
He looked shabby and weatherworn, but the white patches at his temples still glowed. How could he have found this place, when she'd only learned of it in her dreams two moons ago? She could only see one answer.
Welstiel had trailed her, perhaps from the very day she and Leesil had left Bela, some half a year ago.
Magiere hadn't seen him since the sewers of Bela, but she'd learned much of him since then. Images of her mother surged up-Magelia lying on a bed, bleeding to death in a keep as Welstiel took away an infant Magiere.
They shared a father he had known and she had not, but which of them was better for it? A small piece of Magiere might have pitied her half brother. But the greater part longed to rip his head from his shoulders and watch his body burn.
Hunger came back, and Magiere's jaws began to ache. Tears flooded from her eyes as the room brightened in her sight. She clenched her grip tight on the falchion's hilt.
Sgaile flew past, shining garrote wire in his hands as he went straight at Welstiel.
Leesil raced toward a mad, robed female brandishing a crude knife.
"Magiere, go!" Wynn shouted. "You must find it now!"
Magiere barely heard this over the rage telling her to rend any pale-skinned thing in her way-and get to Welstiel. Turning her head with effort, she saw Wynn's small hand wrapped around Li'kan's forearm.
Fear welled within Magiere's bloodlust.
But Li'kan just stood there and made no move to strike the sage. The white undead twisted her head, her gaze falling upon Magiere.
Li'kan rushed Magiere before she could react. The undead's small hand closed on Magiere's wrist. She bolted for the corridor, jerking Magiere into motion.
Magiere's hunger and rage vanished.
