“Is it safe for me to drop the veil?” I asked Vassago.
“Yeah, why?” he asked me.
“Draining me fast. Sebastian must have been bastard strong to keep this on for days,” I said, muttering the command word.
“That, or you’re not fully practiced and your magic hasn’t strengthened to its full potential yet,” Rasmussen told me softly.
I nodded. “Give me a second, I’m going to check the path ahead.”
“Boss, want me to…”
“No,” Vassago told her. “The lower levels are warded, you must stay with me until we reach the next landing.”
“Oh. Good to know. Way to keep us informed.” She threw him a mock salute.
I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes.
Forty-seven steps up and around. When we reached the top, we found ourselves in the archway of a larger room. A room bustling with activity. It was almost like an indoor fair, with what looked like vendors and trading going on. I knew the castle looked big from the distance but were we even in the castle proper yet, or just one of the keeps buildings? I asked Vassago, and he shrugged at the question, but I saw that we weren’t going to be bothered as we crossed the room—
“We’re good as far as I can tell, crossing the marketplace,” I told them.
“Marketplace?” Rasmussen said, leaving his hood up.
“You’ll see, old man,” Vassago said with a grin, then used a hooked finger to let us know to follow him.
“This is too easy,” Rose whispered to me.
“I know,” I agreed uneasily. “Keep your eyes peeled and don’t hesitate to warn me if you see something.”
“I won’t, boss. I’m going to stick close.” Then she flew off my shoulder and kept her distance between Vassago, close to the ceiling and me.
“We’ve got some bound Fae here,” Vassago said, noticing her being visible. “You’ll be a new face, so take that into consideration.”
“If I run into any, I’ll keep that in mind. They can see through my veil anyway.”
“I was wondering,” I asked.
If I had more time, I would have loved to have shopped there. As it was, we made it most of the way through the marketplace when something I hadn’t foreseen happened. In my sight walking before, I’d just crossed the room. Feeling confident, this time I’d slowed down and looked at the wares and saw one of the last tables was lousy with charmed items, runes expertly scribed into them. Everything from household objects like plates, cookware, a washtub, then to more things like blades, swords, and some truly medieval looking weaponry. There were some new runes I’d not had a chance to look at before…
“Nice pair of Colts you got there, mate,” a swarthy man said in an Aussie accent.
“Thanks, sorry, just looking,” I told him.
“Nice scribes,” he said, admiringly.
“Huh?” I asked him, starting to walk again.
“Whoever scribed your rune work, a steady hand, good solid foundation they have. They for sale?”
“Uh no,” I said, thankful my belt holding the dozen or so spare magazines were hiding under my hoody.
“Damn right shame, I’d like to speak to that bloke, see if he’d like to trade ideas.”
“Sir, we must be going, your appointment with the Empress,” Vassago said.
The man flinched at hearing the Empress, and I gave him a wave, memorizing his face in case I ever ran into him again later on in life.
“He’s curious about you, and he was quite serious about trading,” Rasmussen said quietly.
“Not the right timing,” I told him.
“Just mentioning it,” he said without turning as we’d started walking again. “I can only pick up surface thoughts from afar. He is a fan of Samuel Colt and loved the simplistic nature and deadly beauty of the guns. You’ve got a nicer than normal matching set, according to his thoughts.”
“Yes, with etched runes for accuracy and a steady grip.”
“To help you aim better, the grip that is?” Vassago asked me.
We were walking out through an arch at the far end of the market. It opened up, and sunlight filled the air. We had been in a keep building. I knew that because the main castle rose up in front of us. I had to crane my neck to look up to see the one tower, high above the castle walls.
“No, so I don’t drop it,” I told him simply.
“Ah, handy. As far as I know, my daughter is two levels down once we enter the castle. I can only go so far, but the warding stopped at this level.”
“What do you mean you can only go so far?” Rasmussen asked.
“Because he’s not supposed to go down and see his daughter?” I suggested.
“Yes, it’s only allowed under extremely rare circumstances.”
“Gotcha.”
“Have fun storming the castle,” he said jokingly.
“The Princess Bride? Really?” Rasmussen asked.
Rose clapped and laughed, her voice tinkling like wind chimes, “You never get that one right. Good job.”
“I cheated,” he said and pointed at her, smiling.
Rose turned red in the face and then flew back and landed on my shoulder.
“In all seriousness though, from here on out, it’s going to get a lot harder.”
“What’s your daughter's name?” I asked him suddenly.
“Katerina,” he said softly, “Kat to some.”
“Can we approach the castle?” Rasmussen asked.
“Yes,” Vassago said softly, “it’s once we’re inside that we have to be careful. Khrystiana keeps most of her pet mages in there. There’s no telling who we’ll run into.”
“And aren’t you kept in there?” I asked him.
“No,” he said. “I never joined this willingly, though I will say, it pays rather well. I have a place in Vegas and a house in the Hamptons.”
I cursed quietly, and he smiled a sad smile, “I can’t quite pull off the David Bowie gig to get chicks any more, but it worked for a long while.”
“Did you hear that oinking? I heard oinking. His mattattas were definitely oinked,” Rose said sarcastically.
“Yes,” he said smugly, “but we’re not here to talk about my indiscretions, are we?”
“Nope, save the daughter, get away, enduring an endless torment.”
“That doesn’t sound very good, that last bit,” Vassago told me.
“That last bit was for you, we still have a butchers bill to pay,” I told him, my voice going cold.
“Yes, I can see you’re still angry. I told you, whatever your price is.”
“He’s telling the truth, for what it’s worth,” Rasmussen told me.
“I know, dammit. The anger helps me focus.”
“Then get ready, because here we go.”
22
The courtyard between the market building and the castle proper was large. There were stalls for livestock and more than a few chickens ran around, pecking at the ground. Even though half the people were dressed in modern clothing, it was like stepping back in time. It was almost like an old King Arthur book or movie, and I wasn’t talking about the Monty Python version for once. Rose saw several faeries, but none were flying free, and I hissed at her when she looked like she was about to go off and go talk to some.
“But, boss…”
“After we win the day,” I told her.
“Win the day, beat the bad guy. Epic battle,” Rose murmured.
I got why she was upset, but there was no time. Six guards, three to a side, guarded access to the castle.
“Lord Vassago,” one of them said with a derisive snicker, “here to call upon the Empress?”
“I’m here to call upon your mother,” he said, deadpan.
Several of the guards snickered, and the one who spoke gave them an evil glare. Vassago just stared at them.
“Nobody wants to play? Good. I don’t have time to deal with petty matters.”
“Aye, like boinking Geoffrey’s mother again, e
h?” One of the laughing guards said.
They broke into laughter again, and the guard who’d first spoken got red in the face, and Rose snorted. I heard her, but the guards didn’t, and for that, I felt lucky. She wasn’t hiding, but she did have both hands over her mouth. Vassago went to move, and the angry one stepped in the middle of the doorway, blocking him.
“You know, you’ll pay for that.”
“You know, you keep threatening me, I might take you seriously and do something about it,” Vassago said. “Geoffrey, you are way out of your weight class here. I suggest you step out of the way.”
“Step out the way; you hear that, boys? Step out of the way?”
Vassago had one glove off and was pulling the other one off. I watched, fascinated, unable to look away.
“Yes. Move and cease your droll self-amusement or the consequences will be on your head,” he told them.
Three of the guards shuffled a step to the side, giving more room or moving out of the way, I didn’t know which. The other two stood their ground and Geoffrey looked absolutely fucking furious.
“You know how it is. You pull your fancy stuff here, you’re dead, your daughter’s dead and the whole world, as you know it or care about, is dead.”
Vassago was treated poorly by everyone at the castle, from the lowliest dog feeder to the basic guards. How had the world’s foremost feared assassin come to be such a humiliated being? It didn’t make sense to me. Was this part of keeping him in line?
“You know, it might be worth it, just to wipe that smug smile off your face… or I can have another roll in the hay with Meredith and see if you get another little bastard brother?”
Rasmussen’s eyes went wide, and he stepped back into me. I had anticipated that as I saw the guard's hands start to glow with a crackling energy and he held one hand up as a shield as he drew the other back as if to pitch a baseball. Vassago didn’t hesitate, just reached through the conjured shield and touched the mage's hand. He fell in a heap. For a second, Vassago shivered and then licked his lips and looked at the other two guards.
“Your choice, you can do something about it, or stay out of my way, as I warned you.”
“Uh… Go ahead Lord Vassago,” one of the guards who’d made room said.
“We don’t have time for this,” Rasmussen said, grabbing Vassago by the shoulder and roughly grabbing him. “You know my time is valuable.”
I followed in their wake, stepping over the fallen guard who twitched and then rolled over retching. We’d gone twenty or thirty feet when I looked back and saw him being pulled to his feet by his compadres. We’d gone through the doorway into the castle proper and the thick stone walls we’d gone through opened up into a great room. Orbs of mage light hovered near the ceiling here and at the far wall was a stone staircase that went up on one end, arched down at the other, with guards, subjects, mages and… mundane politicians mingling. I did a double take when I saw my state senator conversing with a female mage, both drinking from tiny teacups.
“What is this place?” I asked, looking back at the guards, “and how much trouble are we in now?”
“This is a place where Khrystiana consolidates and solidifies her power. The grand staircase up goes to the living quarters and kitchen. The next floor up from that is the throne room.”
“Downstairs is your daughter?” I asked him.
“Yes,” he said quietly, “At least, last I knew.”
“What about the tower?” Rasmussen asked.
I realized he was right; most castles should be lousy with staircases, especially one as big as this, but that didn’t mean they all had to be on the same level. Still, this castle was otherwise decorated like a medieval castle. Stonework, torch sconces along the walls, arched windows, some with stained glass, some without, to take advantage of the light. I flipped to my mage sight and saw some very serious signs of magical protection on the main floor as well. It looked like a containment spell, but to contain what?
“Available to Khrystiana from her personal quarters of the throne room. I don’t know much of the castle beyond that. There are modern-ish lavatories scattered here and there. They aren’t total savages here, despite what you might think.”
“If we don’t get this show on the road, I might need to hit the head,” Rose complained, “so more walking, less talking.”
“What about those guys?” I said pointing over my shoulder at the guards walking our direction.
“You do need a little bit of a distraction to get downstairs, now don’t you? Hurry along,” Vassago said and then opened his arms wide as he passed us, “Geoffrey, have you not had enough yet?”
There was a hell of an argument going on behind us, and all heads turned as the guards pointed and swore, but none got close to Vassago. For whatever reason, shields didn’t work against life mages. Maybe it was because magic was as much a part of a living mage as breathing air was. Life mages were destined to be healers, but if twisted, their powers could be absolutely awful, and life mages like Vassago were bastard hard to kill. The flip side of that was the potential for being tortured like I’d threatened to do, so it was always a catch 22. I didn’t think I’d ever met somebody as powerful as Vassago, with perhaps the exception of Zania. Both were beyond comprehension in their raw magic and abilities.
“He’s providing the distraction, boss,” Rose told me.
“Yes, let’s not get bogged down,” Rasmussen said softly.
“How far away can you sense others?” I asked Rasmussen.
“What do you mean?” he asked softly as we walked to the stairwell across the room.
“We know the girl's name now. Can’t you contact her directly, mind to mind, like you did when the zombies were smashing their way through the Bureau?”
“If she was within the range of sight, possibly, but I don’t know her, so to reach her mind remotely would be impossible,” Rasmussen said.
“I was just checking. How about this, can you check on chatter downstairs? See if you can pick up any stray thoughts, get into somebody’s head and look around?”
He just looked at me like I was stupid.
“Hey, I spent most of my life on the run from you guys. There are serious gaps in my education. Usually throwing lead at it at 950 feet per second works,” I said, tapping the pistol on my left hip.
“Yes, well, perhaps you should fix that sometime. You know what bothers me about all of this?” he asked, stopping in front of the side of the stairwell that went down.
“No?”
“All these people. I’ve surface scanned most of their minds. A good majority of them don’t have any idea who runs this castle, nor do they care. It’s a confluence, a meeting point and a center of trade. It has been for centuries apparently.”
“It’s in the middle of nowhere, no roads, no landing strips, no cow paths leading somewhere…”
“Which means it’s been a part of the magical community the entire time. There’s a ton of residual magic here.”
“He’s got that right boss, this place glows like a tiki torch,” Rose said, landing on my shoulder so she wouldn’t have to shout over the noise of people in the room.
Two guards from the argument with Vassago broke off and started double-timing it in the direction of the stairwell. I tapped Rasmussen and nodded in their direction, and he stood still. I couldn’t see when he used his magic, but being this close to him I could almost feel it.
“They are alerting the Empress that the slave known as Vassago has attacked and disabled a house guard and is refusing to heal him.”
“Sucks to be him,” I said turning away, hoping they didn’t recognize us from having walked in with him.
“Indeed.”
“Boss, want me to do my thing?” Rose said pointing at the stairwell going down.
“I…”
I looked into the futures of me walking down the stairs alone.
The stairs spiraled down, much deeper than the kennels had been. Twenty steps in, I started t
o feel dizzy, and I could smell the rank odor of decay and corrupted flesh. I slowed my walk so my footfalls wouldn’t echo on the stone stairs. The smell only grew stronger, and I could hear a shuffling sound. Wind buffeted my neck, and Rose appeared, not waiting like I’d asked her to. I turned to send her back up, but my words elicited a moan. Loud shuffling sounds and then a shriek pierced the air as a mass of undead shot up the stairwell, bypassing me but snatching at Rose before—
“Oh man,” I said softly, shuddering.
“What did you see?” Rasmussen asked.
“I think I know where Sebastian’s playground was,” I told him quietly.
“Undead?” he asked.
“Yes. I have a way past them, but neither of you can come with me,” I told him, “not until I figure things out.”
“How do you… Ohhhhh. What happened, boss?” Rose asked me.
I hesitated. “In the futures, I told you to stay here, and I went down, you came after me anyway.”
“Like I should, I’m your backup, your sidekick, your secret weapon,” Rose told us.
“Thing is, I have an artifact that makes me invisible to the lesser undead,” I whispered, “and in my futures, even if you land on me you aren’t protected. They get you and—”
“Brains!” Rose said, then started walking on my shoulder, arms out, stiff legs, in a funny Frankenstein impression.
“Something like that, except they don’t leave enough for you to come back.”
“Rotten bastards,” Rose spat.
“That’s precisely it by all sounds,” Rasmussen said and grinned when Rose turned to shoot him a hateful look. “What do you need us to do?”
“Can you be my lookout up here and beam me a message if somebody is coming my way?”
“Beam you a message?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. “Remember the sight range thing?”
“Can you try? It’ll beat sending either of you into danger. I’ve already checked, and the athame I pulled off the UC mage at the bureau—”
Second Sight: The Rune Sight Chronicles Page 21
