Elyana was too slow, too tired, and too injured to reach the stairwell, and the tail lashed back from the wall and caught her in the chest. She was flung over the altar where the rest of the armor still lay and instinctively threw out her bad arm to catch herself. She landed on the arm, and knew only a moment of pain before blessed darkness finally claimed her so thoroughly that even the symbol glowing in her armor could not pierce it.
Chapter Sixteen
A Familiar Face
Drink, Elyana."
She did as she was bade, for the voice was familiar, and kindly. Someone was holding a cup to her mouth, and she felt the pressure of the rim and the liquid against her lips. As she swallowed the bitter drink her senses swam back into focus and she grew aware of a hand supporting the back of her head. Beyond Arcil's troubled face she perceived the bulk of the dead dragon, a rough hole in the wall, the open sky beyond.
She blinked.
Her arm ached, but a tingling sensation spread down through her torso and out to her limbs as liquid passed into her throat. Almost immediately the pain in her extremities faded.
Arcil smiled down at her as she blinked again and raised her hand. Nice to be able to do so without pain, without shaking. Although she was still so very weary.
Arcil?
She struggled to sit up, assisted by Arcil's hand. "What are you doing here?" She was still too groggy to convey the depth of wrath she'd intended, and her delivery sounded more grumpy than threatening.
"I thought I was rescuing you," Arcil said drolly. "But apparently you did that all by yourself."
She stared at him, and all of the recent events clattered back into a kind of order.
He chattered on as though they were long-lost friends who'd chanced upon each other in the market. "Imagine my surprise to find the beast already slain. I happened to have some healing elixir, which you were sorely in need of."
Of course he'd been monitoring. The smile of satisfaction left no doubt in her mind.
And this, clearly, was the real Arcil, not another impostor with an illusion spell ...although he hadn't aged, and was more handsome than she had recalled. His chin was a fraction larger, his nose a shade smaller, his hairline ...it was an illusion spell, just one that was worn by the real Arcil.
She could see him watching her as she inspected him, and his smile thinned.
"Murderer," she growled.
His eyebrows rose minutely. "I believe I've just saved your life."
Elyana climbed to her feet, waving off his hand. "Kellius is dead because of you, and I was nearly—"
"I came," Arcil said forcefully, "as quickly as I was able." He actually sounded as though he were the injured party. "It took longer than I hoped to get here because I thought I needed a greater spell ..." He fell short at her look. "You do understand that I'm the one who distracted the dragon so you could get to the tower, don't you? I'm the one who summoned the worm."
"An appropriate choice."
Arcil bared his teeth, then visibly mastered himself.
His manner astonished her. "You're insulted?" she demanded. "After all this, you're offended? You killed Calda, cursed Stelan, butchered poor Kellius ..." She broke off as the image of the wizard's twisted corpse swam before her eyes and her throat tightened. She took a breath, then fixed his now stony face in her vision instead. "It's your fault I was lying here half-dead next to a dragon carcass!"
He did not answer. Only the fact that he'd most likely just saved her life kept her from immediately cleaving him in half, and she glared at him while she gathered her thoughts.
He wore dark leggings and boots, a well-tailored vest, and a shirt with an embroidered collar. Expensive, and likely of various colors, though in the shadow realm it was all gray to her. A shoulder bag lay at his feet.
"I see that you've donned some of the tower's garb, but not the crown," Arcil observed. "Where is it?"
"Hell if I know, and you're not getting the damned thing in any case."
"Vallyn stole the crown, didn't he?"
Elyana simply glared. "I won't let you have it."
Arcil gave a long-suffering sigh. "Yes, well, neither of us have it at the moment. And don't you need it for Stelan in any case?"
"Because you cursed him."
"He was being unreasonable!" Arcil's voice rose. He closed his eyes, and once again took a deep breath and visibly calmed himself. "I know how fond of him you still are."
"People are fond of dogs, Arcil. I love Stelan."
"I'll dismiss his curse—will that make you happy?"
"Happy? That might be a good start—"
"But I need the crown," Arcil said, talking over her.
Elyana's eyes narrowed in fury.
"I need the crown. I have no other option, Elyana. And now I've helped you. You know that you could not have left the tower without my healing."
"I owe you nothing."
"I believe you know better."
"I'm not in debt to you! You owe me for Stelan's curse and the death of Kellius—and for putting all of us through this."
"I am sorry about the wizard," Arcil said neutrally.
"You're always sorry, but you keep doing what you want!"
"I'll remove the curse from Stelan if you help me find the crown. How's that?"
"No." Elyana stepped away to her pack. She could walk from the tower, now, assuming she could scale the cleft.
Arcil groaned behind her as she secured the other strap of her breastplate. She had decided to take the armor and to let the future champions worry as they may about dealing with evil earth-rending gods.
"You don't even know how to wield the crown," Arcil continued. "And I know you don't have access to anyone that can help you understand its workings. There is no need for this. Help me recover the crown from Vallyn, and I'll cure Stelan."
He had a persuasive point, but she wasn't about to admit that to him. "‘Cure' is an interesting word, from the man who afflicted him."
"My word is good, Elyana. I lied only once to you, and have vowed never to do so again."
She closed her eyes. "How long do you need it? A week? A day?"
"You're mocking me."
"Words cannot encompass what you're doing, Arcil. How long do you need it to assemble an army of shadows or whatever it is that you want?"
"In truth, I only require it for a few moments. What do you intend to do with it?"
"That's my business," Elyana said slowly, grimly enjoying the look of frustration on the wizard's face.
He scowled but remained silent.
Elyana sighed inwardly. As much as she hated to acknowledge it, her best course lay clear. "I'll help you, Arcil. But you have to lift Stelan's curse. Now. And I must have the crown when you're through."
His penetrating gaze might have given the dragon pause. He took a long, deep breath. "Very well."
"Lift the curse."
"Gather your things, and I shall do so."
"As easy as that? You don't have to teleport to him, or—"
"I must cast a spell," Arcil said. "We are agreed, then?"
"I suppose we are," she said, trying not to dwell on her anger. If Arcil had been this straightforward to start with, none of this—the deaths, the journey, the pain—would have been necessary.
She gathered her gear, and the armor, and the lance, which she found lying cockeyed on the stairs, and then they started up. Arcil said nothing until he began his spell.
After only a short while he declared that he was done. She thought about challenging his veracity, but knew he'd only repeat that he'd only ever lied to her once.
"We can teleport down to Stelan's boy from the top of the tower," Arcil told her.
She gestured for him to precede her on the stairs.
<
br /> The portal closed behind them the moment they stepped clear.
"Stand ready," Arcil said.
"Don't we need to be on the roof to teleport?"
"No. It's the walls that are warded to prevent departure."
He noticed her crestfallen look. "What is it?"
"Nothing." Nothing but a tragic error. If they hadn't returned to the roof, unthinking, maybe Kellius would still be alive.
Or, she thought, if they had teleported from the tower and all five had faced the dragon without benefit of the armor, maybe all five of them would be dead.
Elyana's eyes drove up toward the ceiling, above which Kellius's shattered corpse probably lay. "Goodbye, Kellius," she said softly.
Arcil's hands stirred the air and he spoke harsh syllables in a stentorian voice. Black swirls formed around him and spiraled out in an expanding circle to envelop both them and the equipment. In a moment the rest of the tower dissolved. This spell did not evoke the sense of confusion and dislocation of the bard's magic. It was more secure and certain, somehow. Perhaps it was due to the ease with which Arcil cast it.
In a moment the trees took shape as though Arcil had conjured them into being. Elyana turned to take stock of their surroundings as Drelm appeared on her left.
His gaze shifted between her and the wizard, and his expression slowly darkened.
"What's going on?" he demanded.
"Where's Vallyn?" Elyana asked. She saw Renar scrambling down from a large tree.
Renar moved toward Elyana. "Praise Abadar! It's good to see you." She saw him searching behind her, consternation narrowing his eyes. "We saw you enter the tower," he continued, perplexed, "and we watched, and we saw the dragon fly up there ...I tried shouting a warning to you, but—where's Kellius, and why's Vallyn wearing Arcil's disguise?"
"This is no disguise," Arcil said calmly. "I arrived in time to save Elyana. There was no help for Kellius. Has the bard returned to you?"
Drelm was lifting his greataxe.
"I don't understand," Renar said.
Arcil's well-groomed eyebrows lowered as the half-orc stepped close. "Be careful."
Drelm did not leave off.
"Hold!" Elyana commanded. "I asked a question. Where's Vallyn?"
Though puzzled and angry, Drelm managed to divert his attention to answer. "He was with you."
Elyana cursed quietly.
"What's wrong?" Renar asked. "Is Kellius really dead?"
"The dragon slew your wizard," Arcil said matter-of-factly.
Elyana wanted to add "thanks to you," but held back.
"Where's the dragon now?" Renar demanded.
"I killed it," Elyana said bluntly.
"By yourself?" Renar asked. Elyana's withering look was all the verification required.
"That is a mighty deed," Drelm said affably. "And now you've captured the wizard! But where is Vallyn?"
"Vallyn stole the crown." Elyana was aware that Arcil waited politely to correct the half-orc, so she continued quickly, "and Arcil is assisting us by his own choice. He has lifted the curse from your father, Renar."
"He has? Wait a moment—this is really Arcil?"
"Do you believe him?" Drelm asked.
Elyana looked at the wizard for only a moment. "I do." She turned to the others. "Vallyn stole the crown. Have you seen him?
"The last we saw, he was with you," Renar answered, still staring at the wizard.
"He must have teleported to another point in the valley. There's no telling how far he's gotten. Arcil—any idea how long I was unconscious?"
"A few minutes at most."
"So the bard has less than a quarter-hour lead," Elyana said. "But magic can fix that. Arcil, can you teleport to him?"
"I have to know a place, or scry it, before I can teleport to it."
"So scry it!"
"I can't."
"Why not?"
The wizard looked distinctly uncomfortable. "There are two problems with that. The first is that I have a limited number of powerful spells I can throw before I exhaust myself."
"What's the real reason?" Elyana demanded.
"Well," Arcil answered after a moment, "I don't actually know how to scry, myself. I had another wizard create an artifact for me some years ago so that I could use it."
"So you don't have to use a spell—that's even better."
Arcil cleared his throat. "Please don't take this the...there's nothing prurient in it—I would never..." At sight of her narrowing eyes, he spoke quickly. "It's centered only upon you."
Gods. Elyana's hands clenched and the wizard inched away. "You've been spying on me?" Her voice was low, dangerous.
"No—no ...I just wanted to look in on you from time to time. On my friend Elyana. To make sure you were all right. I swear to you that was all it was."
"Do you want a medal for that? Gods!" She gritted her teeth and breathed in deep. "Do you have no decency?" Elyana turned on her heel. "Gather our things." She indicated the armor and lance with a wave, then tore off the breastplate. "This is for you," she told Renar.
"But ..."
"Do as she says," Drelm instructed him.
Renar persisted, lowering his voice. "Vallyn's our friend, Elyana. Are you sure he stole the crown and it's not some trick of this wizard?"
"I can kill you, boy," Arcil said softly.
Elyana glared at her old comrade. "Arcil may be twisted, amoral, and soulless, but he's only ever lied to me once. Vallyn must have been planning to steal the crown from the start."
"But he's our friend," Renar repeated lamely.
"Time's wasting," Elyana told him. "Pack up the gear and move."
His head still swimming with the sudden shift in alliance and attitudes, Renar was only tangentially aware of the strange and marvelous armor with which Elyana had returned. He replaced his own breastplate and gauntlets with the finely made stuff. It was lighter than his own, and unmarred by even the smallest dent or flake of rust. He then helped Drelm wrap the rest of the armor and his original breastplate in their bedrolls, making cumbersome backpacks.
"What kind of symbol is this?" Renar asked Drelm, patting the broken harp thing on his chest. Arcil glanced at him then looked away. The elder wizard stood apart, and Elyana waited with her back to him beside a tree bole.
"No idea," Drelm replied.
"A symbol of two gods," Elyana said without turning.
Renar wasn't sure he felt comfortable wearing something sacred to any god other than Abadar, but withheld further comment as they started back, staying to the trees. "I can't believe Kellius is dead," he told Drelm quietly.
"He was brave," Drelm said. "I imagine he died well. The lady will tell us the tale when she is ready."
"He was a good man." Renar had difficulty believing the kindly spellcaster was really gone, and wondered, perhaps, if he had simply fallen off the tower edge. Might he come flying after them, as he had when they'd first thought him dead?
Surely Elyana would have told them if there were hope. She was being remarkably quiet, though. "It's hard to believe Vallyn was a traitor."
Renar was aware of Arcil keeping pace a few steps to their right, but the wizard's sudden pronouncement startled him all the same. "I never did trust him," Arcil said.
No one replied.
Elyana led them, watching the terrain. Somewhere in this valley was likely a small fortune hidden in a dragon's cave or hoard, and it would make some adventurer very happy one day.
It was odd that the forest never shifted, only the plain. The peculiar shifting landscape erupted twice after they exited the woods. The first time, a battalion of hyena-headed men marched suddenly into view with leveled pikes, only to disappear as quickly as they'd come. The second time a small hill laden with blo
oming flowers materialized on the valley's far side, bringing with it a sweet honey scent that lingered pleasantly even after it vanished.
Elyana glanced back at her charges and flexed her mended arm. She had not been able to keep from doing that, no matter that it seemed fully restored.
Once she had the crown, she was going to demand the degenerate wizard turn over whatever it was he'd used to scry on her, and then she'd smash it into a thousand pieces. She couldn't remember when she'd been so angry, but she strove not to give in to the fury. The landscape was too dangerous to lower her guard. Later, she could be livid. Later she could mourn the death of noble friends and old friendships.
The crystals covered the black earth ahead of them. She loosened the sword in her scabbard. There'd been nothing in the crystal forest the first time, but there were no guarantees.
Worries crowded in around her. What was Vallyn really planning? Later, she told herself. And then she heard the faint hollow clatter of wood against wood. As of an arrow against a bow.
"Down!" she roared, even as she threw herself flat.
Renar and Drelm cast themselves to the ground after Elyana. Arcil was a second slower.
Renar noticed that an arrow was sticking out of the wizard's shoulder when he dropped. His respect for the hated Arcil rose several notches when he observed that the man tugged the thing out with nothing more than a dark oath. Were all of his father's old comrades this tough?
"Lose the pack, young baron," Drelm hissed to him, then crawled for cover as figures popped out from behind the crystals. The identity of their attackers was no longer a mystery, for after the first arrow someone with a Galtan accent was cursing and another was ordering a second volley.
Renar contorted himself to stay flat as he wrestled off his cumbersome backpack. He followed on his belly after the captain, who was heading for a boulder.
And then darkness dropped all around them, so thick he could see nothing, not even the hand in front of his face.
Plague of Shadows Page 21
