Trigorah made her way swiftly back to the alley. The creature was standing in the shadows. The lack of the unnatural aura about her proved that she was, mercifully, still calm.
"When I say so, we are going to cross the road into the opposite ally quickly and quietly. Then I will lead you to a door and into a room inside. You will be silent until I say you can speak," Trigorah instructed.
Ivy nodded. As Trigorah waited tensely for the old man to make the preparations, she watched Ivy closely. The creature was shifting uneasily from foot to foot, her eyes locked on the alley across the way. The box she held was hugged close to her chest. A few more moments passed.
"Why are we waiting?" Ivy whispered.
"Just wait. If we move too soon, the way won't be clear," Trigorah said.
Ivy nodded. Trigorah judged that the time was right.
"Now," she ordered.
"Not yet. Wait," Ivy said, her voice hushed.
"I said--" Trigorah began scold.
Ivy ignored her, stepping further into the shadows. A moment later, Trigorah finally heard the crunching footsteps Ivy's sensitive ears had. She too ducked back further. A large, shabbily-dressed man lumbered by, dragging a crystal-tipped halberd. He paused briefly in front of the alleyway.
"I know him," Ivy breathed almost silently. There was a shiver in her voice and a wisp of blue light.
"Steady," Trigorah warned.
The lumbering figure continued. Trigorah watched as he vanished from sight. Epidime. Fortune had run out sooner that she would have liked. Suddenly, there was a motion beside her. Ivy bolted. Rather than call after her with an order that would certainly be ignored and likely draw Epidime's attention, she held her breath and prayed that she had learned some of Lain's accursed stealth. As she watched, she saw movements that could scarcely have been learned. Long, graceful steps, planting surely despite the icy stone. Soon she was deep in the far alley, gone from sight. Hiding.
Trigorah edged closer to the opening of the alley. Epidime was a fair distance away, and moving further. Stepping lightly, she too made her way across. It turned her stomach not to face him and proclaim her victorious capture of Ivy, but the creature was anything but securely in her grasp at the moment. If she could milk just a drop of information out of her, not only Ivy but the other Chosen too could be her prize. The other generals would have no recourse but to allow her to take her rightful place at the front lines then. Even Bagu would have to relent after having the renegade warriors delivered directly to him.
"Did I do good?" Ivy asked eagerly.
Trigorah shrugged off the odd reaction of the creature and silently led on. The tavern was just a short way ahead, if she remembered correctly. As she walked, she began to gather her questions to mind, readying her techniques. Her instinct screamed warnings about the sudden compliance, even devotion her prisoner was showing. It warned about Epidime and what treachery he may have in store. Nothing could be done for now to deal with such concerns. They were noted and brushed aside. The sound of boisterous laughter and loud conversation heralded the approach of the only building in this part of town that didn't seem deserted or rundown. She stepped up to a sturdy wooden door and gave it a push. Sure enough, it was not latched.
The pair stepped in quietly, closing and latching the door behind them. Inside, the heady aroma of spilled ale and roasting meat momentarily distracted Ivy. Her eyes lingered on the door at the far end of the long, dim hallway. She longed to be on the other side. Badly, she wanted to taste and smell and hear and see what was behind that door. A firm hand on her shoulder snapped her back to attention. There was one door open. It led to a large but virtually empty room. The place was nearly the size of a small banquet hall, but there was but a table and a pair of chairs to be found inside. They slipped in.
Trigorah drew the bolt on the door and tested its strength before turning to Ivy. The malthrope was already seated, placing her box carefully on the ground before folding her hands and smiling like an overachieving student. The general tried to work out what possible reason the creature might have for the complete reversal of trust. Before her escape, they were in the process of re-educating her. Demont had claimed that the process was not complete, but that a few safeguards had been put in place. Perhaps this was one of them reaching the surface. Regardless, best to take advantage while it lasted.
"Now, where are the others?" Trigorah asked.
"I . . . I was afraid they died, but you saw it happen, and you still want to know where they are, so I guess they are still alive. I don't know where. Do you know what happened to them?" Ivy asked. As she spoke, her nervousness melted away completely, as though she felt she was speaking to a friend.
"It is my belief that they and several others I fought were decoys," Trigorah said.
"Yes. Yes! Ether made a bunch of decoys. She said that she was the real one and that I should follow her . . . she was lying," Ivy said, her voice intensifying.
"Never mind that. Where were you heading before you split off? Why were you in Verneste?" Trigorah asked quickly, hoping to sidestep the angry realization that she had been betrayed.
"Um . . . Well, his sword broke . . . I broke it, I think. We were heading south. Lain wanted me to be safe, so he was taking me there, but he needed to get his sword fixed before we went to Tressor," Ivy said.
"So Lain is in league with the Tressons," Trigorah said. It was a suspicion she had long held, and one that fueled much of her disdain for him.
"Well, he has friends down there. They owe him favors, I think," she said.
"Would he continue south without you? Does he seek something else there?" Trigorah pressed.
"I don't think so. He was only going there so that he wouldn't have to worry about me when he tried to end the war," Ivy explained.
"How does he intend to do this?" Trigorah asked.
". . . I don't know. But he is going to do it. He's amazing," Ivy nearly gushed.
Trigorah suppressed a wave of anger at the hero worship.
"Do you suppose that he will realize you are gone?" she asked.
"Of course!" Ivy said.
"And he will come for you?" Trigorah said.
Ivy nodded vigorously.
"And the shapeshifter?" continued the general.
"Um . . . yes," came the answer, dejectedly. "She won't leave Lain alone." Ivy looked to and fro before adding in a conspiratorial whisper, "She likes him."
"And Myranda. Is it true that she--" Trigorah began to ask.
"SHE'S NOT DEAD!" Ivy retorted before the accusation was even made. "Everyone says she's dead, but I talked to her. I know she's still alive, and Lain knows it, too."
This was new. And if it was true, it would change things considerably, but something about her defensiveness made Trigorah believe that this was the wishful thinking of a naïve mind. Still, it was worth noting.
"Very well. Tell me about Ether. What types of things can she do?" Trigorah interrogated. The others had only the vaguest of details about the mystical creature, and the ability to produce duplicates had never even been considered.
"I don't know. Lots of things. I don't want to talk about her," Ivy objected. "Don't you want to know about me? I can do plenty of things, too!"
"The shapeshifter," Trigorah ordered.
Ivy grumbled and crossed her arms.
"No!" she pouted.
"This is not a game, Ivy. Do as I say," Trigorah warned forcefully.
"But . . . fine. She can turn into fire and water and all of that. Also, anything she touches she can turn into, and sometimes it takes a while. She gets tired quick because she overdoes everything, and . . . um, she hates crystals. One of the . . . ." She paused. ". . . teachers, shoved a crystal into her chest and she would have died if I didn't save her. What I did was--"
"We will discuss you later. First finish telling me about Ether. Do crystals always work? Does she have a defense against them?" Trigorah said, refocusing the purposefully wandering mind of Ivy.
S
he grumbled again.
"No. I don't think so . . . wait. Yes. She turned into one of the silver crawling things that had a crystal right on its head and it didn't bother her at all. So, uh . . ." Ivy began.
"If she takes the form of a creature immune to that attack, she inherits the immunity as well," Trigorah deduced.
"Yes . . . I guess. Are we done with her?" the creature nearly pleaded.
"Very well. What would you have me know?" Trigorah relented. This was the most surreal interrogation she'd ever performed. In the alley, it had been like trying to juggle a tinderbox and a torch, and now it was like humoring a child that was starved for attention. She was beginning to wonder how much of the information she pulled from this damaged mind could be trusted.
"Well, I can play music, and I can dance, and I can sing, too. Do you want to hear?" Ivy babbled.
"Now is not the time for that. Where did you learn such things?" Trigorah asked. Certainly it hadn't been a part of the education they had given her during her development.
"I don't know how I know, I just know. And I am very good. Watch!" Ivy said, pulling the box from the floor suddenly and beginning to open it.
Before the latches could be undone, Trigorah's sword was at the ready.
"Stay your hands," she warned.
Ivy flinched, startled.
"Hey! I was just going to play the violin for you!" she scolded.
"Creature, as long as you are cooperative I will permit you to behave as you wish, but do not forget that you are my prisoner. Trust is acceptable, but obedience is mandatory. I am not your friend. I am your captor," Trigorah growled, her blade's point held a whisper away from Ivy's throat.
"You wouldn't hurt me," Ivy said dismissively.
"I will do what I must to achieve my ends. Consider this your last warning," Trigorah said with finality.
The general was accustomed to loyalty, obedience, and fear. She would not be dismissed.
"But we are supposed to be friends. Don't you feel it, too? You and I are supposed to help each other," Ivy said, confused by the threatening action.
"No. You only believe that because of something that was done to you while you were being created," Trigorah seethed. Her logic screamed for her to stop, to weather this behavior. She could not bring herself to heed the warnings.
"Oh, what do you know? I mean, look at that ugly thing on your arm. Who would wear that?" Ivy said, in the same infuriating tone, pointing to the outstretched arm that held the sword.
Trigorah looked to the bulge under her sleeve that Ivy had indicated.
"You will not mock my band," Trigorah said, pulling back the sleeve to reveal a gold band engraved with runes clasped tightly about her upper arm. "This band was presented to me before I swore allegiance to the four generals. It represents my honored position at the head of the great army of this great land. The day I remove it is the day I forsake my superiors and forsake my kingdom. It has not left my skin since the day it was given."
Ivy twisted her head to try to get a better look at the runes.
"To quench the flames and dim the light? What does that mean?" Ivy asked, perplexed.
"What foolishness are you saying?" Trigorah hissed.
"That's what it says. There are other runes after it but that is what the little ones say. You mean you didn't . . ." Ivy began to explain, but suddenly she seemed distracted.
The creature sniffed at the air, concern quickly turning to fear.
"He's here," she said, terror beginning to spill off of her again.
Trigorah turned to the door. A sudden thunderous blow buckled the hinges. A second splintered them free. As the ruined tatters of door collapsed into the room, the hulking form of Epidime stepped inside. Ivy cowered behind Trigorah, who slowly sheathed her weapon.
"What are you doing!? He will kill us!" she shrieked.
"You have made a number of very influential individuals very upset, Teloran," Epidime scolded with his characteristic coolness.
"I have also captured one of the Chosen, something those same individuals could not do. I think that deserves some consideration," she countered.
"Ah yes. Ivy, as they call her. Demont's pet project. Tell me, how is it you managed to keep from lighting her short fuse for so long?" Epidime asked.
"Never mind that. It is quite likely that the others are coming, and I do not think it wise to face them here," Trigorah said.
"Why are you talking to him!? He is evil! We have to go!" Ivy said.
"Why . . . does this little beast trust you? That is a remarkable feat, General," Epidime admitted.
"Are you listening to me? We need to get to a more defensible position," Trigorah said.
Epidime still gazed at the trembling figure of Ivy.
"You didn't strike me as though you were in any hurry to leave before my arrival. Besides, I doubt we will find a position more defensible than the city," Epidime said.
"Up until your arrival, I had handled the situation with at least some semblance of tact. We might have escaped notice. And this isn't a fort, Epidime, there are civilians here," Trigorah protested.
"Collateral damage is a part of war," he replied.
Trigorah held firm. "You've seen what they can do. The entire city may be destroyed."
"Acceptable losses," came the logical reply.
"Acceptable? Hundreds of people would lose their lives for two? We are supposed to protect these people!" the general urged.
"An end best served by removing this threat to their freedom. Interesting that you are so eager to seek higher ground the moment I arrive. One might almost suppose you have other motives. A less understanding superior might even suspect insubordination. However, that cowering little prototype behind you has earned you the benefit of a doubt or two. Permit me to subdue our present prize. Afterward, I will even allow you to tell me what you have learned, rather than simply taking it from you," Epidime said.
"What? No! NO!" Ivy cried.
She tried to run, but with her mind still set on suppressing her emotions lest she ruin this place, she wasn't fast enough. The gem in the blade of Epidime's weapon was brought to bear on her head. A bright, intense flash of light and crack of energy surged forth.
A moment later, Ivy dropped to the ground, forced into a deep and unwilling sleep.
Chapter 29
Not far to the south, Ether released an ear-splitting cry of pain as the attack upon Ivy earned the shapeshifter a punishment of her own. She dropped swiftly to the ground, crying out and clawing at the mark on her head. Far behind, Lain watched the spectacle. For the last few hours, Ether had been leading him like a signal beacon, tracking Ivy through some arcane means, but a gust of wind had brought a trace of her scent to him, and Ether would no longer be necessary. The smell was mingled with others. Hundreds of people. She was in a town. If his sense of direction had not failed him, this was a place called Fallbrook.
Two scents asserted themselves above the others. The first was the one that had been missing further south. Trigorah. The other was that of a man he had known as Arden, one he now knew to be General Epidime. Two generals. The situation smacked of ambush, but there was nothing to be done. For a few moments more, he watched the sky ahead. The dawn was throwing a pale gold against the clouds. If indeed the generals were prepared for him, darkness and the shapeshifter would be welcome, if not indispensable, allies. For the moment, it seemed he had neither. The one piece of luck had been the proximity of this place. Ivy must have been trying to find them to have come this far.
Any hint of cover had been left behind long ago. Lain was sprinting across open field. His trained mind cataloged dozens of mistakes he was making. From the deep, distinct footprints he was leaving to the proximity of a well-traveled road, he was keenly aware of his carelessness, but time afforded nothing more. His eyes focused on the town ahead, mapping out entrances and exits. Bringing to mind what he remembered of the rooftops and back alleys. Formulating what little of a plan he could. Working out
where troops might be hidden, where they might gather and how to evade them. Determining where she would be. No time could be wasted searching. If this was indeed an ambush, he would have to know precisely where she was even before he reached the fringes of the city.
After a short distance, he found the smoldering form of Ether. She was standing, trying to regain her composure. The state she was in was almost beyond description. It seemed as though she was caught halfway between her stone and flame forms. Veins of fire swept slowly across a black stone body, glowing white-hot and flaring every few moments.
As she heard his approach, she turned to him. Her eyes, glowing like two embers, showed a mixture of fear, desperation, and anger. The sight of him was enough to spur her back into the air, the flame finally regaining its full force.
#
Ether's cry had not escaped the notice of the generals. Indeed, every eye in the city was turned to its source. The once–nearly-empty streets of the place were now peppered with the residents that the war had spared. Whispers passed quickly through the crowd. Tales had been told of a monster or demon that had spawned chaos in another town not long ago. It had assaulted one of the king's men. Was this that beast?
Trigorah and Epidime reached the street a step behind the last patron of the tavern.
"And you are certain that there are only two coming for her?" Epidime said thoughtfully, unfazed by the growing unrest around him.
"The shapeshifter and the assassin," Trigorah said. "A force that I hesitate to face without any reinforcements."
"There will be reinforcements. For the time being, we shall offer up some fodder," Epidime said.
The imposing warrior forced his way through the roiling crowd to the center of the street.
"Attention! The creatures that approach are enemies of the Northern Alliance. You are hereby drafted into the great Alliance Army. Defend this building with your lives!" he barked.
Fear and doubt turned instantly to pure chaos. Some searched madly for something to arm themselves with. Most ran in panicked mobs, seeking some form of shelter to hide from the carnage that was sure to rain down.
The Book of Deacon Anthology Page 83
