Jorden stood and took Syn’s hand. “And now, my brave little scout, I’m going to go say goodbye to you in ways that you can’t imagine.”
The two started upstairs to their room, but Syn released Jorden’s hand.
“I forgot. I have to tell them one more thing.”
“Don’t delay,” Jorden ordered, “I’m removing my clothing as we speak.”
Syn hurried back down the stairs.
“Dallan, Rika, I have a favor to ask.”
“Of course,” Rika said, “what is it?”
Syn swallowed hard. “Noma, the priestess. She really is a wonderful woman.”
“And?” Rika prompted.
“Well,” Syn said, “don’t the Ha’kan worship Sjöfn?”
Rika grinned, liking where this was going very much. “Yes, yes we do.”
“Then perhaps you could go and atone for me in the temple?”
The figure kneeling at the altar was large, and therefore Noma was surprised, as she neared, to see that it was a woman. A very large woman as she stood upright and was almost a head and shoulders taller than her.
“I beg your pardon,” Noma said, her hand fluttering to her chest. “I did not mean to interrupt your prayer.”
The woman had short, cropped hair, dark brown eyes that twinkled with good humor, and fine features that spoke of aristocracy. Her beautiful lips twitched into a smile.
“You’re not interrupting, priestess. I just am far from home and thought to stop in to offer my devotion to Sjöfn.”
“You worship the goddess of love?”
“All of the Ha’kan do.”
The hand fluttered to the chest once more, and this time remained.
“You are Ha’kan?” she stammered.
“I am,” Rika said.
Noma stared at her as if she had declared herself a unicorn, examining every muscled inch of her while Rika simply stood there.
“I beg your pardon,” Noma said again, “I don’t mean to stare. I have never met a Ha’kan before.”
“We don’t often leave our homeland.”
Noma knew that she was being improper, but she might not ever have another opportunity to meet one of these creatures. “Is it true,” she said, “that your priestesses….” She trailed off, searching for the right words and not finding them, “are different than ours?”
“The Ha’kan are all women,” Rika explained, “and we do not value monogamy as you do. Sex binds our culture together, and the primary role of our priestesses is to foster the sexual health of our people. So yes, I would say our priestesses are a little different than yours.”
“By the Divine,” Noma murmured. She cleared her throat. “I don’t suppose you’ve had time to ‘worship’ with a priestess in our lands.”
“No,” Rika said, taking the fluttering hands in her own, “but I would welcome the opportunity to pay my respects to Sjöfn, if you would be willing to help.”
“I am more than willing,” Noma stammered. She felt another presence at her side, and turned to a second Ha’kan as exquisite as the first, this one with shoulder-length dark hair, laughing dark eyes, and a dazzling smile.
“And you should know,” Rika said, taking one hand while Dallan took the other, “that the Ha’kan like to worship together.”
Chapter 24
Raine moved down the dark corridor, following the dwarf who had come for her at Fireside. He had delivered the scroll, waited patiently for her to read the contents, then nodded when she told him she would be ready to go within the hour. And she had followed him through the imperial city, ducking those she knew were following her, and out into the countryside. They soon lost the remaining group tailing them, aided by some disruptive wolves and a flock of crows that mysteriously decided to attack. Horses were waiting once they knew they were free of their shadows, and the two raced back to Hrafn at a dizzying speed. But they did not enter the town, nor head toward the catacombs, but rather stopped some miles away in the middle of the forest where there was nothing of interest until a hole in the earth opened up and revealed the entrance to a colossal tunnel. And Raine entered the tunnel, at which time some extraordinary machinery groaned and gears rotated and hinges protested, closing the entrance so expertly that the chunk of turf that had been displaced was replaced in one piece, and the earth barely looked disturbed where the massive entrance had been.
And now Raine followed the dwarf down the tunnel, which was less a tunnel and more of a highway, for the Deep Miners were extraordinary in their craft. And the Miners had been down there for some time because the highway was well-lit and had a finished feel to it, and was even decorated with statuary along its length. Dragons seemed to be a predominant theme, and one in particular caused her to stop short. It was a splendid rendition of a magnificent dragon, wings outspread over a muscular, half-naked woman who gazed up at her in adoration.
“Um, is that me?” Raine asked, and the dwarf nodded.
“My love is right,” she muttered to herself, “I really am an exhibitionist.”
They continued on, the thought of the statue causing a little grin on Raine’s face, but she sobered once they reached a series of passageways off the primary tunnel. The dwarf led her into a stone room, and in the stone room the Empress sat waiting.
“Raine!” Aesa exclaimed, jumping to her feet. “I was so afraid I wouldn’t catch you in time, that you had already given yourself up.”
“Malron’a convinced me that was a very bad idea,” Raine said. “And I have yet to come up with a better one.”
“And I have done nothing but think of you the whole time I’ve been down here. I hide away while you risk and sacrifice everything.”
Aesa sat back down on the edge of the stone bed, and Raine took the seat on the stone bench that Aesa offered.
“I want you to take me to Pernilla.”
“What?” Raine asked, startled. “I don’t think—“
“Wait,” the Empress said, stopping her. “I have thought about this at length. If Pernilla will bargain with you, I will stay with her in exchange for rescinding the contract.”
“And if she won’t?”
“Then you must kill her,” Aesa said firmly.
“Are you sure?” Raine asked, for she thought the Empress’ feelings about Pernilla were far more conflicted than she would admit. “Do you want her dead?”
“I—, I’m not sure,” Aesa said, and Raine recognized that Aesa was more aware of the inner conflict than she let on. “But that will be her decision,” she said, her tone hardening.
“Just so we are clear on this,” Raine began. “If I take you to Pernilla, you will be in danger. She may choose not to bargain with me, and the battle will be heated. I do not fear for myself, but I may not be able to protect you.”
“If Pernilla chooses to let me die, it will be so.”
Ah, Raine thought, a test of sorts. She continued. “If Pernilla does choose to accept my bargain, you must stay with her, and I will have to hunt down and kill Malron’a before she unleashes a bloodbath. But at least the contract will be revoked.”
“I understand,” Aesa said. “And all I can say is that, regardless of outcome, your path will be more difficult than mine.”
That was most certainly true, Raine thought. If she were a gambler, given the story Aesa told, she would put money on the fact that she was going to have to kill Malron’a.
Raine left Aesa with the Deep Miners and returned to the imperial city at the same breakneck speed. And although she was tired and dusty from her journey, she did not tarry long at Fireside but made her way back into the depths of the castle.
“Out on a little jaunt?” Malron’a asked, her pale eyes missing nothing.
“Something like that,” Raine replied. “I’ve come to a decision.”
“Do tell,” Malron’a said in that s
ilky, malevolent tone, settling into a wooden chair.
“I will take Pernilla’s treasure to her.”
The pale eyes stared right through her. “And what prompted this change of heart?”
“A lack of any other option,” Raine said.
Malron’a studied the woman before her, her eyes impudently lingering wherever they chose. It was almost as if the vampyr were mentally engaging in the rape she had threatened, doing so in a leisurely fashion. And Raine was forced to stand before her and accept the scrutiny.
“Would it help if I removed my clothes?”
“No,” Malron’a said, glancing to the ceiling and laughing, “that would not help at all, for it would surely jeopardize everything that I have put in place. In fact, I fear that if you even showed me your eyes, I would toss all my plans to the winds. No,” she continued, “keep your clothes on, Arlanian, and continue with our original plan. Take Pernilla’s treasure to her, and when you are finally in her presence, kill her.”
“And then?”
“And then you will return to me, I will revoke the contract, and you can be on your way.”
“And what of Pernilla’s treasure?”
This gave Malron’a pause and the scrutiny returned. “Is it something that you want?”
“No,” Raine said, “it doesn’t belong to me.”
Once again it seemed they were talking on many levels, and although Raine did not understand the conversation they were having, she seemed to be handling it with some success.
“Then it will become Guild property once more,” Malron’a said dismissively, “and sold for whatever price it will garner.”
A pause in their discussion gave Raine a chance to change the subject. “So where am I to find Pernilla?”
“Normally, I would have no idea, but Pernilla showed her hand at Hrafn, as I knew she would.”
“What are you saying?”
“The vampyr you let live in Hestr is one of Pernilla’s spies, one who leaps up and down our hierarchy with ease. I have known of her for some time and thought you would kill her in Hestr, removing that thorn from my side. Her death would also have served to catch Pernilla’s attention. But alas, you chose a slightly different route, although it was still effective.”
Raine had always been astonished at Jorden and the machinations of the Thieves Guild, but the manipulation and intrigue of the Shadow Guild put them to shame.
“That vampyr was also at the catacombs, and in her haste to attempt to have you followed, she did not realize that she herself was followed.”
“And she went back to Pernilla.”
“Yes, she did. To Mithril Caverns.”
“Of course,” Raine said with a deep sigh. “It couldn’t be the Gardens of Isgeror, or the Plains of Asvor. It has to be the most wretched place in Arianthem.”
“I thought you liked a challenge. But be warned, you will fight from the minute you step into that mountain. It will be a battle like none other, and at the end of it, will be the greatest challenge of all.”
Raine felt their conversation was at an end and turned to leave, but Malron’a’s final words gave her pause at the door.
“And I will give you one last warning, Scinterian, if you seek to betray me and make a bargain with Pernilla, your battle will be just beginning.”
Chapter 25
The black dragon landed in the castle courtyard, disappeared in a flash of red light, and Drakar stepped from the blood-red glow. He stepped jauntily up the stone steps, waving to the bevy of beauties that always seemed to revolve in circular orbit about his mother.
“Is Kylan here?” he asked one of the elder dragons at the door, and the woman shook her head.
“Only the Queen is present. Kylan is out doing her bidding.”
He strolled through the atrium into the inner chamber where his mother awaited. A young man with reddish-brown hair was present and Drakar’s step hiccupped ever-so-slightly, an almost imperceptible stumble. He reached Talan’s side and brushed a kiss across her cheek.
“Hello mother, I thought you would be alone.”
Talan examined her son’s handsome features, an enigmatic, perhaps even sorrowful expression on her face.
“Is something wrong?
“Of course not, dear boy. Tell me what you’ve learned.”
Drakar glanced uneasily at the red-haired young man, but Talan vouched for him.
“Elgar is one of Kylan’s most trusted consorts,” Talan said, “you may speak in front of him.”
Again, Talan’s words were layered, as if there was some underlying meaning. “You look familiar,” Drakar said to the young man, squinting at him through dark brows.
“I can’t imagine why that would be,” Elgar said.
“Hmm,” Drakar said, then dismissed him. “Anyway, Volva has rallied a large number of lesser dragons, and even a few of the elder.”
“Where are they?” Talan asked.
“They are near Thorny Peak,” Drakar said.
Talan considered the location. It was at altitude, many mountains, tricky currents, a few plateaus on which to land.
“That is a prime place for a battle of dragons.”
“Exactly my thought,” Drakar said. “I believe they are gathering in force.”
“Then we shall meet them with force,” Talan said.
“We are going to war?” Drakar said, his eyes gleaming.
“We are,” Talan said firmly. “Let’s end this one before the real one begins.”
“Was it wise, my Queen, to speak so openly front of him?”
Talan was again staring out the window, Drakar having gleefully bounded from her side. Elgar hovered off to the side, protective of his liege.
“Of course not. There will be a trap waiting for me at Thorny Peak.” Talan said, “But I will not be going to Thorny Peak.”
“But what will you do?” Elgar asked, confused.
“I will send all the others in great force, to make it look as if an attack is coming. If the attack is anticipated, I will know I have been betrayed.”
“But what will you do? Elgar repeated.
“I will remain here, alone. I must send enough of the others to make it look like a legitimate attack, but I will have them break off at the last instant, then return via the Frozen Straits. Those passages are narrow, but the winds will funnel them back here the quickest.”
Elgar went to one knee, awed at the brilliance of her plan. “You are wise beyond words, my Queen.”
Chapter 26
Syn was half-asleep in the back of the caravan, sprawled on a bag of corn flour, a blindfold over her eyes. Packer, true to Noma’s word, had accepted her as temporary help. His reservations about her abilities were evident, but when Syn showed him she was far stronger than she looked, he nodded his acceptance. He was adamant that she must say nothing about the trip or that she would endanger his life and all others on the caravan. Syn convinced him her intentions were purely mercenary, some quick coin, and then she would be moving on to another town. Packer had agreed, but only on the condition that the first part of the trip be made with her blindfolded.
That was fine with Syn, it allowed her to sleep and not engage in conversation, which no one seemed partial to, at any rate. She would have been unable to reproduce their route, as none of her skills translated well in the forest, and she would have been instantly lost. This area was so large and the Tavinter so few, they could not reasonably search other than by blind luck. And if the trail was wiped clean by magic, they had even less a chance. But if Syn could verify that Skye was here, narrow the search area down by time traveled, then they might have a chance of finding her.
This would be one the most dangerous tasks that Syn had ever attempted, even more dangerous than sneaking into the imperial castle and stealing the Emperor’s scepter beneath his nose.
It was imperative she not be discovered, for it would certainly mean her death. And if she was found out, it was likely the sorceress would flee with her prisoner.
Syn did not dwell on these possibilities. Instead, consistent with her roguish nature, she rolled over and went back to sleep.
Signe sat in the garden reading a book. She had given up on the vapid romances and determined she would never read them again, even if she had loved them before. There was not much of a selection, otherwise, but there were some bland historical tomes that were slightly better than the romances. Eydis sat across from her, also reading, but Signe would look up from time-to-time and find Eydis staring at her.
“Have I done something wrong?”
The corner of Eydis’ mouth turned upward, a small half-smile more acerbic than sweet. That hard edge that had appeared after Signe had killed the hell hound had become a permanent fixture. She was not cruel to Signe, far from it. But her cloying sugariness had turned to an amused sarcasm, her solicitous attention to a possessive fixation, and her gentle advances to fierce, dominating passion. Whereas before, Eydis had hovered about her, she now felt as if her lover stalked her from the shadows. It was such a dramatic change that Signe wondered if Eydis had been hit on the head as well. But then she wondered if perhaps this had been their relationship before her head injury and that Eydis had used her memory loss to attempt to reframe it to something more gentile. If so, the attempt had failed, for this felt far more natural to Signe than what had preceded it. And she had to admit, she liked it better, which confused her even more.
“No, my love. I have never been more pleased with you.”
Even her words now all seemed to have double meanings, as if Eydis were perennially entertained by some inside joke. But more than anything, there was some great tension present that had not been there before, as if something were coming, something that Eydis was waiting for with anticipation.
Signe returned to her book, chewing her lip, and that unconscious gesture was all that it took. Eydis stood before her, hand extended.
“Come my love, let’s go lie down.”
The Shadow Games: The Chronicles of Arianthem VI Page 18
