“Yes, I should,” Lucy said feelingly, referring to far more than walking on the ice.
Keros sat back on his heels and scratched his bristled jaw as he looked at her. “This would go easier if I gave you some drops to make you sleep.”
Lucy was shaking her head before he finished. “No.”
“Didn’t think so. All right. Relax if you can. Whatever you do, don’t move. And do try to keep your cipher from getting too excited, won’t you?” His voice was brittle. Still he didn’t hesitate.
Lucy sat back in her chair, gripping the arms again and taking a deep breath.
“Ready? Here we go.”
His hand trembled as he pulled his lumpy illidre out. Holding it one hand, he put the other over her ankle. Lucy twitched and caught herself.
The feeling that penetrated her ankle was neither heat nor cold. It sizzled, uncoiling in looping strands of power, wrapping around her pain, and collapsing it like ash. It sank into her bone, winding around and tightening, creating strength. Lucy had a sense of when the bone healed—a fitting together, a sense of wholeness. Then she felt a movement in her swollen flesh, like a sponge squeezing dry.
Without warning, the cipher roared to life. Heat blasted her and she felt incandescent. She convulsed, kicking and flailing. Her head snapped forward and back, her back arching so that she balanced on her heels and her neck. Both chairs burst into flame. Fire licked her, gentle and searing. Keros grabbed her around the waist and flung her to the floor. She landed hard on her side, the air bursting from her lungs.
“Lucy! Can you stop it? Try to stop it!”
She heard his voice from far away. Her veins flowed with liquid glass. She felt the majick surging in her as it had in the alley behind Faraday. She clutched at it; she couldn’t let it get loose again. She’d rather die first. But she couldn’t stop it.
The majick filled her like a dam. The pain was beyond bearing. Lucy wept, her moans soon turning to shrieks. She pushed up on her hands and knees, trying to get out, to run away. But her muscles collapsed. She wrapped her arms around herself, pressing her face against her thighs. She rocked back and forth, needing movement, but the pressure only increased. Her skin felt like it was splitting. Lucy howled, the action giving her some release.
She didn’t know when the majick stopped flowing into her. Slowly she came aware that the pain and pressure weren’t getting worse anymore and the fire had ceased to burn. But she was full of majick and unable to release it. She was stranded on an island of pain with no escape.
“Lucy?”
Keros’s rasping voice was close to her ear.
“Can you hear me?”
Lucy’s only response was a wordless moan.
“Listen to me. When majicars are initiated into the guild, they undergo a rite of passage. They touch raw sylveth. It fills them with an overwhelming majick and either they control it, they die, or they become spawn. I think the cipher is doing something like that to you. You can control the majick.”
Lucy made another inarticulate moan. Keros seemed to understand the question. How?
“It’s different for everybody. My majick comes to me like a wind. I imagine a sail harnessing its power. For some it’s like fire, others like a puzzle, and who knows what else? You have to envision what would contain the essence of your power and bring it into being inside you. Like water in a jar, or fire in an oven. Don’t try to empty it or to put it out. It might kill you.”
Lucy clutched at Keros’s words, trying to make sense of them. Her mind was fragmented, shattered by the tidal wave of pain. She felt raw, like she’d been turned inside out, every nerve ripped from her flesh, every bone broken. She felt the power churning inside her. It was like a Koreion—a great sea worm—its spines ripping bloody gobbets of her loose, slashing away at her flesh with its saw-toothed talons, as it sought a way free.
In the corner of her mind, she laughed at the irony. The essence of this power was a beast that ruled the Inland Sea, destroying ships and swimming in sylveth without harm. Couldn’t it have been a mouse or a kitten?
She convulsed again, muscles shuddering violently. The Koreion of majick was growing again. Soon it would rip her apart. She had to find a way to control it. But how? And then she realized. Not control, contain. One didn’t harness the wind, nor had Keros tried. There was no chaining it, no bringing it to heal with a whip and a stout stick. She must tame it. Befriend it.
She didn’t have much time. The sinews of her body were pulling taut, attenuating with the pressure. There was a cracking sound and fire ignited in all her joints. Her mind splintered apart. She grasped at the pieces, trying to focus. It was like fighting a rip current. The pain dragged at her, pulling her down, pulling her apart. She struggled against it, gathering her scattered senses, piecing her sanity back into a fragile semblance of wholeness. It was decrepit and missing pieces, but it would have to do. She set to work, following instinct and hope.
She began by calling up an image of herself in her mind. Carrot-headed, plump, snub-nosed, and freckled. The edges of the vision were misty, but it was recognizable enough. Next she thought of the power within her, the Koreion wrapping her in its strangle grip. Her imaginary self stood inside the heavy coil of its body, wedged between the mesh of spines that porcupined down its entire length.
She hesitated, uncertain of what she ought to do next. Should she talk to it? She had no words. They skittered senselessly across the surface of her mind, spinning away into nothingness. She lifted her imaginary hands and laid them on the body of the beast. Its skin twitched, soft as cashmere. Lucy was astonished. She’d not expected anything so wonderful.
The skin beneath her hand rippled with muscle and suddenly the Koreion’s head reared up above her. It dripped with soft, waving protrusions. Fine, needle-sharp teeth densely crowded its long, pointed snout, the slitted nostrils fluttering open and closed. Lucy could see her reflection in its enormous lidless eyes, like shining black mirrors, wider around than she could reach, and slashed with silver in the shape of a scythe moon. A single pair of limbs protruded from its powerful shoulders. They were tipped with four-fingered claws; the talons of each were as long as Lucy’s legs and were serrated. In between they were webbed.
Confronted by the enormous beast, Lucy’s hard-held focus began to unravel. Befriend this? The idea was absurd. The best she could do was offer herself as a meal—not even that. A snack. She waited for it to strike, for a wickedly clawed foot to rip her open from stem to stern, for the spined coils to crush her. But nothing happened. The mounting majick halted as the beast scrutinized her.
Except for in works of art, Lucy had never seen a Koreion before. Odd that she’d choose such a creature to represent the cipher’s majick. Or maybe not. It was a creature of sylveth and it was perhaps the most frightening animal she could imagine. But it was not real, she told herself. It was only a figment of her imagination. A way to think about it so that she could control it. As if a Koreion could be controlled.
Whimsically, she held out her hand, startled when the sea dragon stretched out its head, touching her fingers. Its muzzle was covered in feathery scales that tickled, even in this place that was no place. Its tongue slid out its mouth. It was brilliant blue and vee shaped, with a white stripe up the center. The tip widened into a slightly cup-shaped oval. Its paper-thin surface was covered with fine, wire-sharp bristles and silvery veins. The sea dragon brushed its tongue over her hand. Fire erupted where it touched. Lucy jerked back, turning her hand over. The skin was scored by dozens of fine cuts that bled freely.
The Koreion stretched out its head again. Its breath washed over her wounded hand. Coolness smothered the heat. The blood stopped flowing. White scars like embroidery floss remained.
“Thank you,” imaginary Lucy said.
It whuffled her fingers again. A sudden sense of well-being surged through her. The pain of the cipher’s power eased suddenly. She moaned her relief, feeling the majick settling down inside her, like churned sand
sifting to the bottom of the sea. It was still there, heavy and waiting, but no longer threatening. For now.
She slowly became aware of Keros urgently calling her name. She relaxed her concentration, allowing the images of herself and the Koreion to fade into shadow. Drawing a deep breath, she opened her eyes.
They didn’t open.
Terror ripped through her. She groped at her face, digging at her eyes. There was no blindfold, nothing at all to prevent her from opening them. Except that she couldn’t. Her stomach heaved violently and bitter vomit erupted from her nose and mouth. She choked and gagged, feeling Keros’s hands grip her arms. She clawed at him, fighting him off with savage, inarticulate snarls.
Suddenly the Koreion was there in the darkness behind her eyelids, rising up as if from the black waters of the Inland Sea. Its face filled her mindscape, so close she could taste its breath, like brine and wind. Lucy cringed from it. She had no control of this thing. It was inside her, but separate. Alien.
Its maw opened slowly, widening until she could see nothing else but its V-shaped tongue and the silvery blue walls of its mouth. Its fanglike teeth gleamed as if lit by a white light. Lucy gasped, her chest and throat clamping tight. Her heart rattled against her breastbone as the beast drew closer. Then suddenly it lunged at her. It snatched her into its mouth, flicking her into its throat with its tongue.
It swallowed her.
Crushing force enveloped Lucy. She screamed and thrashed, closed inside the silvery blue cocoon of the beast’s gullet. Everything she touched felt like razors sleeved in hot silk. Then the cocoon began to shrink, closing hard around her. It pressed suffocatingly against her, the pain of it beyond anything she’d ever experienced. Deeper and deeper it sliced, until she felt like she’d been chopped into a thousand pieces, every drop of her blood squeezed out. She prayed for oblivion, for release.
Then the pain was gone. It vanished like it had never been. Instead a feeling of well-being and comfort seeped through her, dulling the sharp edges of remembered agony. She panted, her heart still pounding as if it would tear through the walls of her chest.
“Lucy! Lucy!” Keros sounded frantic.
She opened her eyes. She opened her eyes. Relief made her giddy. She took a slow shaky breath. “Do you have to be so loud?”
Keros snorted. “I suppose that answers my question. Come on, let me help you up.”
Lucy let him take her hand. Part of her was astonished and grateful that he was willing to touch her after the cipher’s attack.
Acrid smoke filled her nose and she coughed. Panic surged up inside her again as she remembered the chairs catching fire. She lurched about, clutching Keros’s arm. “Fire!”
“Easy, now. It wasn’t like Salford Terrace. I’ve put it out. Though it appears I need some more furniture.”
He pushed the smoldering chairs out into the mud-room next to the kitchen and brought two more from the sitting room, pointing imperiously to her to sit in one. She wiped her mouth with the back of her arm as he opened the windows before returning to the table and sitting down opposite to her. Lucy was still reeling, and her gaze lingered on the black scars marring the wood floor.
“How are you?”
She turned her attention to her injured ankle. The bruising had vanished and with it the swelling. She rotated it, feeling no pain.
“You healed me,” she said, knowing it wasn’t the answer he was looking for.
“Seems so.”
“Why did the cipher do that? This time and before?”
“I don’t know what happened in Salford Terrace. But this time, my healing might have triggered a defensive spell. It might have thought I was trying to tamper with it, so it decided to finish you off before I might free you.”
“It thought. Lovely. It has a mind of its own.”
Keros shrugged. “In a manner of speaking.”
“Then why didn’t it do it the first time you healed me? Or even the second?” She dragged her fingers roughly through her hair. “Gods, I’m making a ridiculous habit of it.”
“I don’t know why it didn’t flare up. You’d have to ask Errol Cipher about that. It’s complex majick, and what he did…who knows how it works?”
“At least it’s decided to let me live for now,” she said darkly, the memory of pain etched indelibly on her bones.
Do you mind if I ask how you controlled it?”
“I—” Lucy hesitated, the moment stretching.
“Never mind. It’s not really my business,” Keros said, going to grab a broom to sweep up the debris from the burnt chairs.
“No, it’s not that,” she said quickly. “It’s just—”
He waited. But when she couldn’t find the words again, Keros’s mouth twisted into a bitter smile.
“Don’t worry about it. You’ve said it often enough. You’ve no reason to trust me.”
His expression was an odd mix of resentment, uncertainty, and…hurt. She looked at him, astonished. He cared. When had that happened? She’d thought his aid stemmed from his guilt over giving Marten the drops. She’d been grateful for the help, no matter the reason, but knowing he felt something more for her struck her to the soul. She grabbed his arm.
“It’s true; I don’t have any reason to trust you, except that you’ve been faithful to your word all week. So stop being an ass and sit down,” she snapped. “Do try not to interrupt.”
Keros gave her a startled look and acquiesced, sprawling in his chair with a bemused smirk.
Lucy chewed the inside of her cheek. How to explain to him when it didn’t make any sense to her? She made a frustrated sound, wishing for a glass of Sarah’s Shepet. Keros seemed to read her mind, fetching a decanter of brandy and pouring out a healthy dose for each of them. Lucy nodded thanks, cupping the glass in both hands and gulping the liquid, appreciating the rush of heat in her belly. She set the glass down and he refilled it.
“At first I thought I sort of made friends with it,” she said at last, swirling the golden liquid pensively.
“Made friends with it?”
Lucy grinned. “Yes.”
“But?”
Her smile faded. “I thought it worked. But when I pulled away it…swallowed me.”
He frowned. “What do you mean? What swallowed you?”
“You said to picture the power as something. So I did. It was a Koreion.”
His face went slack, his brows shooting up. “Couldn’t you have picked something a little more innocuous, like a mouse—or, by the depths, knucklebones?”
“That’s just it. I’m not sure I did the picking. I think it did.”
“The cipher?”
She shrugged. “Or the majick.”
“Oh.”
“Oh? That’s the best you can do? You’re the majicar. What does it mean that it swallowed me?”
“You’re hulled?”
“Are you asking me or telling me?”
Keros stood, coming around to put his hands on her shoulders, his fingers rubbing in gentle, soothing circles. Lucy leaned her head back against his stomach, marveling again that he was willing to touch her despite the threat of the cipher.
“It didn’t kill you. That’s all that matters. Now, are you hungry?”
“Enough to eat my boots.”
“I think I can manage something better than boots. But one day you ought to learn something about cooking,” he said as he went to the stove, where an orange pot sat.
“I suspect either the cipher will have me or the Bramble will, long before I need to cook.”
“You could get very hungry in the meantime.”
“You mean if you decide to stop taking pity on me?”
“Indeed.”
“I have the jewels. They ought to buy me a dinner or two.”
“Yes, your stolen booty. Likely the bulletins have gone out on them. You’d doubtless be arrested the moment you walked into a pawnshop.”
“Terribly formal, pawnshops, aren’t they? I ought to be able to find
someone less rigorous in their standards. I won’t get as much from a fencing cully, but certainly enough to eat for a sennight or two.”
“Or the cully will steal the gems, cut your throat, call the guard, and get the bounty. I don’t know if the Crown Shields will care if you’re dead.”
“You’re a very cynical man.”
“And you should learn to cook.”
“I expect I’ll be able to filch something from the kitchens at Sweet Dreams,” Lucy said offhandedly, tracing the grain of the kitchen table with her forefinger.
Keros stopped in the middle of ladling lamb and rice stew into a bowl. “You’ll what?”
“Filch something from—”
“I heard you. I thought perhaps my brain had melted out my ears and I was hallucinating. It appears that yours has done the melting. Exactly how do you plan to gain access to Sweet Dreams? And why would you even want to?”
Lucy let go of her droll manner. In perfect seriousness, she said, “I have reason to believe that I might find some answers inside. I’m hoping you’ll help me get in.”
Keros gave her a hard stare and returned to serving the stew. He brought it to the table with a crock of butter and some crusty bread. She watched his shuttered face as she ate. She should tell him about her talent, about the stranger, about her blackmailer. He should know everything before he went any further with this. She finished her stew, pushing the bowl away and picking up a slice of bread. She tore it between her fingers, nudging the crumbs into designs.
“I’ve been able to sense the presence of majick since I was child. That’s how I found your house without Marten. That’s how I found the ciphers….”
She told him everything, feeling a certain relief in sharing it. He listened without Sarah’s anger, without her family’s horror, without any reaction at all.
“So that’s why I want to get inside Sweet Dreams. Will you help me?”
She’d find a way inside the bagnio one way or another, but it would help considerably if Keros would use his majick to disguise her entrance. She’d dye her hair and dress as a maid. Her hands were callused and rough from her customs work. No one would ever suspect her. There was likely an army of maids working in the bagnio. She’d blend right in with their ranks.
The Cipher Page 25
