Obsidian Ridge c-2

by Jess Lebow

  A tall, dark-haired woman wearing a gown that appeared to be laced in the front with thick spider's silk stood up from her chair. "What do you mean, she's no longer within our reach? Did you lose her?"

  The Matron bristled at the accusation. "We did not lose her."

  "If you did not lose her, then where is she?" pressed the dark-haired woman.

  "I have told you," said the Matron in a calm, even voice. "She is outside of our reach."

  "Why would you let this happen? Did you not have a plan for using her to our advantage?"

  The Matron smiled. "Of course I did."

  "Then perhaps you can explain," responded the spider woman, "how she can be of use to us if she is outside of our reach?"

  The Matron took a deep breath and then lifted herself out of her chair. The mage-lit stones on the table flared then subsided, making the room seem darker than it was before. The woman in the spider-silk gown quickly glanced around the table. None of the other invitees would make eye contact with her. Looking at the Matron, she bowed her head and sat down.

  "The princess was merely a way for us to manipulate the king," she started, clearly pleased by her display of power.

  "His recent involvement in the Elixir trade has begun to take its toll on our profits. The kidnapping of the princess was a message to the king. Any further meddling in our affairs will not be tolerated. If he wants to hit us where it hurts, then we will do the very same to him. No one is safe. No one is outside of our reach, not even the Warrior King, Korox Morkann."

  "But things have changed, Matron," said a dark-skinned man near her end of the table. He spoke respectfully, but loud enough for the others to hear. "There is more at stake now. The Obsidian Ridge threatens all of Erlkazar. It threatens all of our businesses and our lives."

  "He is right," agreed another man at the far end of the table. "If Erlkazar is destroyed, who will we sell to? Surely we must change our course."

  The Matron balled her hands into fists and took a deep breath. She glared at the collection of underworld figures, daring them with her eyes to challenge her again. When no one spoke, she continued.

  "The appearance of the black citadel has only strengthened our ploy," she explained. "Not only do we have something the king dearly wants back, but now he has further pressure to negotiate with us in a timely fashion."

  "But Matron," said the dark-skinned man, "you said the princess is outside of our reach. How can we negotiate with the king if we no longer have what he wants?"

  The Matron smiled. "But we do have what he wants. We tell him that we have his daughter. That the only way he will get her back and save his entire kingdom is for him to grant our businesses protection above the law. We will tell him he will get his daughter back when he has not only given us his blessing but also his good name as endorsement to our Elixir."

  "This is preposterous." The spider woman stood up again. "First you tell us the princess is not in our possession, then you tell us she is. You keep talking in circles. But even if you do have her, what's stopping the king from going back on his word once he has what he wants? There is only one way to keep the seat of power in line-fear. We must assassinate the king, turn his daughter over to the master of the Obsidian Ridge, and reap the benefits of the panic that ensues."

  This brought grumbles of agreement around the table.

  "Yes, she is right," said an elderly man sitting next to her. "The king and his line must be taught a lesson. The damage they have done to our Elixir operations cannot go unpunished."

  "The king is useful to us alive," said the Matron. "We know him, and we know how to manipulate him. If we kill King Korox, another man will sit on that throne, and we will know nothing of him. We will not waste the valuable knowledge we have now simply because it gives us a shortsighted gain."

  "We cannot sit here and do nothing," replied the spider woman. "At the very least the Magistrates and their nightly raids must be stopped."

  The Matron shook her head. "The Magistrates we can handle. It's the Claw we need to worry about."

  Simply mentioning the Claw inside this chamber seemed blasphemous.

  The spider woman slammed her fist against the table. "But surely we must do something about the-"

  The Matron cut her off. "Do not cross me," she said. She pointed her finger at the woman. "Up until this point I have been lenient with all of you, but my patience is beginning to fray." She pressed her chair away, the legs grinding across the floor as she forced it back. "You do not need to know everything at this moment. For now, it is enough that you are aware of my wishes." She shook her finger, a mother warning her children. "The king is not to be harmed unless I give the word. We will use him and his daughter the way I have intended. Is that understood?"

  The figures around the room nodded their understanding.

  Gathering her purple robes around her, the Matron walked up the steps. "This meeting is over." Turning as she got to the edge of her private study, she looked down upon the prominent underworld figures. "You shall be summoned when I wish to tell you more."

  With the wave of her hand, the doors of her study slammed closed, and the locks on the heavy doors that led out of the room dropped open.

  Chapter Eleven

  Quinn watched the king pace back and forth across the sitting room floor. Each time he crossed in front of the open balcony doors, he would look out at the obsidian- citadel floating over the water, just outside of the docks. It was as if the man thought that maybe, just maybe, if he willed it to be, the whole thing would simply disappear.

  Despite his best efforts, the Obsidian Ridge didn't budge.

  The sound of footsteps drifted up the stone stairway, adding their rhythm to that of the king's pacing. Then the guest who belonged to the footsteps arrived-unannounced-inside the king's sitting room.

  "King Korox," said Senator Divian, barging into the room, "might I have a word with you?"

  Quinn stepped between her and the king, blocking her path. He didn't go for his weapon, but he left himself enough room to grab it if the need arose.

  The senator pulled up short. "What is this?" She looked past Quinn to the king.

  Quinn didn't budge. "I'm sorry, Senator," he said, raising his hands to make it clear he meant her no offense, "but you came in unannounced. I'm afraid I'm going to have to search you for weapons." He took a step closer. "Please lift your hands over your head. This won't take but a moment."

  The senator took a step away from him. "You will not lay a finger on me." Her voice dropped very low. "Touch me, and you will regret it."

  "Quinn," the king said. "It's fine. The senator can be trusted."

  "I'm sure you are right, my lord," replied Quinn, not backing down. "Senator Divian is without a doubt above reproach, and I give her my sincerest apology. But since we have a magical fortress floating outside our window, illusions and doppelgangers are not outside of the realm of possibility."

  The senator dropped her hands and stood up straight, tugging the front of her robe down and tightening her cloth belt. "Yes, of course," she said, clearly miffed at having her trustworthiness called into question, but also seemingly swayed by Quinn's argument.

  "I will not touch you," continued Quinn, running a hand through his blond hair, "but perhaps the senator could humor me by answering a few quick questions." He took a step back, toward the king, and tried to smile. "Just to let us know that you are indeed who you… well, are."

  Senator Divian crossed her arms over her chest and sighed. "Very well," she said. "Ask your questions."

  "When did King Korox's wife die?"

  "That's common knowledge," she said, glancing at the king. "Just after he took the throne."

  "Yes," replied Quinn. "And what did she die from?"

  The senator, a little taken back by the question, gave Quinn a sideways look. "That… that too is well known," she said. "She contracted a rare and difficult to treat disease, which ultimately proved to be fatal."

  Quinn nodded. "Yes, and
how did she contract it?"

  Senator Divian uncrossed her arms. Her posture seemed to soften, as if she were saddened by this line of questioning. "She was… she was doing research, at my behest, in the catacombs just outside of Dajaan." Her gaze dropped to the floor, and her shoulders slumped. "We never learned what she contracted it from."

  Quinn stepped aside. "I am sorry for bringing up such painful memories, Senator. Please forgive me." He bowed to her, and took a position at the edge of the room.

  Senator Divian nodded but didn't say anything.

  After a moment, the king crossed to her and touched her on the shoulder. "Perhaps we should talk in my private chambers," he said.

  Nodding her agreement, she followed him out of the sitting room.

  King Korox closed the double doors that led into his private chambers and turned to face the senator.

  "I apologize for Quinn," he said. "We're all very much on edge with this… thing hanging over our heads. He is no exception."

  Senator Divian took a deep breath and tried to regain her composure. "Can I ask you a question?"

  The king nodded. "Of course."

  "Do you blame me for the death of your wife?"

  King Korox was stunned by her candor. "How can you think that?"

  "It's just that-" She shook her head. "It's nothing." She wrapped her arms around Korox's waist and laid her head on his chest.

  The king returned her embrace. "She knew the dangers of going into the catacombs. And she went willingly. I do not blame you for anything."

  The senator looked up at the king and smiled. "I just didn't want to think that…" She paused, looking into his eyes.

  Korox leaned down and kissed the senator, cutting off the end of her thought.

  "Thank you," she said, releasing the king from her embrace. "I'm sorry. Sometimes I just feel a little awkward. Though it is not common knowledge to most people that your late wife was helping me with research, it is common knowledge to you. I would hate it if you thought my actions were responsible for you losing your wife."

  "Do you think I would invite you into my private chambers if I did?"

  She shook her head. "No. I do not think you would." Turning away from the king, she strolled to the other side of the room-to the other doors that led out to the private terrace. Throwing them open, she looked out at the forest and the roads beyond, leading south.

  Korox watched her as she moved. "But now I have a question for you."

  "And what is that?"

  "Do you think it is too soon?"

  The senator looked back at the king. "Too soon for what?"

  "Too soon for us?" he said. "The queen has been gone for less than a year. I don't wish to betray her memory."

  "I think the queen would not want you to be alone," replied JDivian. "I like to think she would approve-that she would have picked me to look after you in the event of her death."

  "Do I really need that much looking after?" he said, chuckling.

  The senator turned back to the view, nodding. "Oh yes. More than you know."

  The king came up behind and placed his arms around her. "From here you can't even see the Obsidian Ridge. If only this were the case in every window of the palace."

  "Have you thought about what you are going to do?" she asked. "When you find Princess Mariko?"

  The king sighed. "You mean if I find Princess Mariko," he said. "It's been two days, and still not a sign of her."

  The senator continued to look out at the view, talking over her shoulder. "Either way, if you're not going to give this Magus Xeries what he wants, then we need to prepare our alternatives." She turned around.

  "And what do you think those are?" He curled up his fist, unfurling one finger. "Fight? Our army is useless against such a foe." He unfurled a second. "Flee? The evacuation plans are progressing as fast as they can. Still, I'm not even Sure we can move everyone far enough away to avoid his wrath." The king lifted a third finger. "We've already tried negotiating." He threw both hands in the air. "What else is there?"

  "Magic," she replied.

  The king shook his head. "We don't even know the true extent of this man's power yet. For all we know, he's not even cast his first spell."

  "Perhaps," she replied. "But I've been thinking. What if all of this is just parlor tricks meant to scare us into submission?"

  The king gave her a forced smiled. "I know what you are trying to do." He touched Divian on the shoulder and let his fingers slide down her arm. "But while downplaying the power of the Obsidian Ridge may comfort me in the short term, the simple fact of the matter is that we both know Xeries means what he says. You yourself said there are powerful wards protecting the black mountain from magical spying and infiltration. If you can't break through, then I'm afraid there is no one in Erlkazar who can."

  Divian squeezed his hand, trying to smile back. "Yes, there is powerful magic surrounding that place. But what we do not know is if Xeries put them there himself, or if they are the result of artifacts he possesses."

  The king tilted his head. "Even so, just to possess such things must mean he has some power. At the very least he is tremendously resourceful."

  "True," said Divian. "But so far, all we've seen him do is make a stone obelisk appear out of thin air. An apprentice wizard could do that."

  The king shook his head. "Divian, you can give up on this now. Your effort is appreciated, but I know you don't believe that. It would be foolish to underestimate this man-if he is indeed a man-after what we saw happen to that unit of soldiers. And you are not fool."

  "I am just worried about you. That's all," she replied. "Even kings need hope."

  "Yes, we do. And I thank you for recognizing that," replied Korox. "But to muster enough magical force to drive Xeries out of here, even if he isn't as powerful as we think… it would require us to gather nearly every mage in Llorbauth, and then some. We'd be dealing with magical forces that quite frankly haven't been mustered since the Time of Troubles."

  "While I will admit that I did come here to lift your spirits, I am not entirely convinced that my idea is without merit." She slipped her hand around his waist again. "Gathering the spellcasters-a convocation of mages-is not a bad plan. Besides, what other choice do you have?"

  Chapter Twelve

  The burlap sack slipped from Princess Mariko's head. A dim corridor, lit by fading mage-lit stones, came into view. The walls and floor were slick and damp, and the air smelled of mold and dry blood.

  Finally managing to chew through the cloth gag her captors had tied around her mouth, the princess spat the remnants to the floor.

  "You'll never get away with this," she growled. Her hands were tied at the wrist behind her back. Greasy lowlifes surrounded her on all sides, their sickly complexions looking jaundiced from the glow of the torches they carried. Though she didn't know the names of these people, she recognized their faces from her nighttime visits to the docks.

  "Oh, no?" said the man leading the way through the dingy hall.

  "No," she snarled. Mariko did, however, know the name of the man who led them-Jallal Tasca. "And aren't you supposed to be dead?"

  Jallal stopped and spun on his hooves. Pushing his way through his guards, he put his face right in front of hers; so close Mariko could smell the boiled ham on his breath, pieces still stuck between his sharpened teeth.

  "And where'd you learn that?" Jallal balled up his hairy fists, biting off each word as it rolled out of his mouth. "From your lover perhaps? Did the Claw tell you that?"

  Mariko was momentarily stunned. "What are you talking about?" Her words were unconvincing, even to herself.

  Jallal smiled. "Surprised that we know about your little romance? Did you think you could keep it a secret forever?"

  A large rat scurried through the rubbish littering the hallway. It squeaked as it traversed the long, pockmarked wall, sniffing everything twice as it passed but finding nothing worth its time in the piles of discarded refuse. It disappeared around a lo
ng, curving corner.

  The princess watched the rat until it slipped out of view, then she looked back at Jallal. She pointed toward the rat with her chin. "Friend of yours?"

  "Laugh it up, Princess." Jallal turned away and resumed leading his group down the hall. "You don't have long to live anyway. Might as well enjoy what little time you have left."

  The group started to move again, and one of the guards behind the princess prodded her forward with the flat edge of his sword. She stumbled a bit, not ready for the shove, but quickly caught her balance.

  "You're going to pay for this, Jallal," she said. "I'm going to get out of here."

  "I'm sure you are, Princess. I'm sure you are." Jallal's words dripped with sarcasm.

  The princess tugged on her bonds as she walked. They were tight, and she couldn't budge. "And when I do, I'm going to hunt you down like the mongrel you are." As her frustration rose, she spoke through her teeth, each word growing louder and more intense. "And I'm going to personally flay the skin from your body, piece by piece."

  This last bit made everyone cringe.

  "So un-princess like," taunted Jallal. "And who's going to get you out of here? Hmm? Is the Claw going to come to your rescue?"

  "I don't need anyone to rescue me," she said. "I'll get myself out." She struggled with her bonds, feeling the rope loosen a bit with her repeated movements. "Besides, if you think you can catch the Claw by using me as bait, then you've sorely underestimated both of us."

  Jallal chuckled. "I hate to damage your self image, Princess. But you're just one small piece of the puzzle."

  The hallway took a long, sloping curve to the right and headed downward. The group came upon the rat, still searching through the refuse on the ground. Its little nose bobbed up and down, as it sniffed its surroundings. Then suddenly, it stopped, sitting back onto its hind legs and clawing at the air.

  "What's its problem?" said the guard behind Princess Mariko.

  A large dark splotch suddenly peeled away from the wall and fell to the ground. The dimly lit hallway made it difficult to determine what was happening, and at first, Mariko thought it was just a piece of loose stone or a large patch of moss on the damp rock that had lost its grip and was sloughing off onto the floor. Then that piece of moss unfolded to twice its original size, and snapped tight, wrapping itself around the rat like a thick rug.