Blood and Shadow (The Mage's Gift Book 1)

by Robin Lythgoe

  With a sigh, he set the bowl on the floor. While they wolfed it down, he changed into the clothes the nameless woman had given him. He held the cloth-wrapped bleakstone and wondered if he’d be able to use it when the time came. Stuffing it into his tunic, he rejoined the beasts while they took turns licking the bowl clean.

  “If you’re done with that, I’m going for a walk.”

  Chapter 80

  The coarse clothes made Sherakai itch. He’d become so used to having fine things! He despised his weakness and kept shrugging his shoulders as he dragged Fesh down the steps and into a cell. He’d chosen one further down the corridor and around a corner from the hole he'd occupied. While stashing Fesh and Teth there would be a delicious irony, it was also the most obvious place to look for them. This other cell was larger, too. It might have fit four or five men.

  “What have you been eating?” he grunted as he pulled Fesh down the corridor. Thank the stars and the saints, he’d already got Teth to the cell while the creature still had his legs under him. He weighed half again what Fesh did.

  No time to waste. A rest would have to wait until he got to Tanoshi. With the beasts in their cell, he trotted down the hall and up the stairs, pausing at each landing to check for guards. He worried that he’d somehow missed one stationed at the top, and he’d pop out straight into their arms. Taking a knife from his boot, he tucked it into his sash and tried not to think of the hilt sticking out of some poor unfortunate’s chest. No, not his chest. Put your hideous lessons to good use, Kai. Behind the collarbone or in the armpit.

  He’d practiced with blunt wooden knives weighted to mimic steel. Practice didn’t keep his palms from sweating now. He crept up the last flight of stairs on all fours, then peered up over the edge of the last.

  Bleedin’ Abyss…

  Two guards occupied the space, and he knew no other way out. If he killed them, or even knocked them out, it would draw attention to the fact that he’d been here. He sank down on the stone, thinking furiously. He didn’t trust his skill with his Voice, though Deishi had responded well. His own guilt got in the way, but how could he get around that? Not a cold-blooded killer, Sherakai only needed to gain their confidence for a moment or two. Back down the stairs, he took a lamp from the wall, took a breath, and called out.

  “Fesh? Teth? You win! I surrender! Fesh?” He gathered aro and forced himself to calm. Panic would catch Bairith’s attention. Panic would make him lose his hold of the magic. Calm, calm, do your numbers. “I’m going back to my room, d’you hear me?”

  He stomped up the stairs, muttering calculations under his breath instead of curses. In Galayan, he decided. Then the guards won’t understand even if they do hear me. It took more concentration anyway.

  “Ho, there!” one of the men called out from the doorway as he drew a sword. “Who’s down there?”

  Sherakai lifted his light and shielded his eyes. The second guard stood at his mate’s shoulder. “Sorry, it’s me. Sherakai. We were playing a game and got separated. Have Fesh and Teth come through?” Playing a game, ha!

  “No, and you shouldn’t be down here.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” he apologized again, adopting a stricken look. “I didn’t know. I’ve been down here before. The jansu said I could go anywhere I pleased as long as the door wasn’t locked and I had my guardians with me.”

  “True ‘nuff,” the second guard muttered, “though he stands a bleedin’ good chance of getting lost.”

  The first guard re-sheathed his weapon. “He’s been down before, right enough.” His smile was unkind. “Wouldn’t think th’demons’d get themselves lost, though.”

  Sherakai lowered the lamp and shifted his grip in case he needed to use it as a weapon. He screwed his face into an expression of disgust as he tromped the rest of the way up the stairs. “They’re probably teaching me another lesson.”

  “Y’mean we might see you down here again later?” the guard laughed, stepping aside.

  He shrugged. “We’ve been at this for hours, I swear. I’m so tired.” He drew on the aro to shade his Voice as much as he dared, and prayed Bairith had fallen into a sleep so deep the entire keep might fall down around his ears without waking him. “I just want to go to sleep. Forget any of this ever happened. Just… relax and forget. This is a night like any other, boring and quiet. Don’t know why we need guards on cells that are locked and bolted anyway. It’s not like anyone could get out of those… I could be sleeping, sleeping…”

  He caught the first guard before he tumbled them both down the stairs.

  “Here, what’s this?” the second guard asked. He moved a hand as if to help, but missed.

  “Help me,” Sherakai urged. He hadn’t expected such a quick result. “Easy, easy… All we need do is sleep…” He didn’t dare let go of the spell for an instant. Crooning, coaxing, he convinced the second guard to sit on the floor, but the man refused to stretch out beside his companion.

  “Got a job t’do,” he said, dragging the words from some place far away. His eyes wouldn’t focus, though he kept trying. “Gotta do m’job. Get in trouble if I don’t, y’know.”

  “I know. It’s all right. Look at me.” He tipped the man’s chin up, fingers light against the stubbled jaw. “Let it go. Let it all go and forget. Remember eating supper, drinking ale, laughing with your mates. Good things, quiet things that happen every day. Savory meat, thick gravy.”

  “Ale,” the guard said, his eyes sliding sideways. “It’d be better if it wa’n’t watered. Pehani gets us th’good stuff, but it ain’t free. Like me some ale. Like me some of that gal Sunni, too.”

  “Yes, she’s something, isn’t she? Let her come to your dreams, yes, just like that. Close your eyes and dream about Sunni.”

  “Smells minty.” And with that the guard crumpled sideways.

  Sherakai caught him and eased him to the floor. For a moment, he crouched beside the pair. Thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose, he worked to fill his head with nonsense. And prayed. Would the nameless woman’s promise of help be true? He should have found a way to kill the jansu, but a mage, by the blessed gods. How did you kill a mage? Did Bairith have special wards? He must! Mages were hard to kill, and he couldn’t risk trying without knowing absolutely that he’d succeed. If he were caught—No, he didn’t want to consider what would happen to him or to Mimeru if he’d failed. Numbers.

  “All right, back to work. You haven’t much time,” he told himself.

  Chapter 81

  This level, a long flight of stairs up from the horrible cells, occupied the same floor as the kitchens. Once there, Sherakai had to be careful of the bakers preparing bread for the morning. His nondescript clothes helped. He inched past them. Filling two buckets from a barrel of water, he trotted back the way he’d come. The further he went, the heavier the buckets got. He left one on the stairs and dashed down to the cell where he’d left Fesh and Teth. He repeated the process with the other. The beasts didn’t move. Worried, he put a hand on each ribcage to see if they still breathed.

  Nodding to himself, he returned to the kitchens. Two ham shanks weighed every bit as much as the buckets had. He swore under his breath, then switched to conjugating verbs as he hauled the meat downstairs. Calm and quiet. He left it beside the buckets, then eased the door shut. The bar worked fine in place of a key. In fact, he had to jam it into place. He rested his forehead and one hand on the cold iron. “Sorry,” he whispered. Regret would have to wait. When he’d caught his breath, he loped down the corridor, then up the stairs again. Iniki’s brutal lessons were paying off.

  For a miracle, the two guards still slept in spite of his coming and going. He listened intently, stretching his senses outward. When he was sure the way was clear, he took his boots off and sprinted barefoot down the hall. From that point, he was more likely to come across servants tending to jobs they couldn’t do in the middle of the day. One such pair knelt at the base of another stairway, chatting quietly as they scrubbed the floor. H
e crept behind them, slow and silent. Twice after that he had to wait for people to pass or move.

  Eventually, he reached the Blue Parlor. Waiting outside the door, he glanced up and down the hall several times. Ear pressed to the wood, he stretched his senses out. Was it a trap? Scrunching his eyes closed, he listened again. Only one heartbeat, and it was quick. Nervous. Ru.

  He hesitated. Instinct prompted him to creep up the hall, listening at each door. Not a soul stirred but for the one in the room the nameless woman had chosen. Nerves on edge, he counted backward from fifty to still them. He must be careful. Then he lifted the latch and opened the door a crack.

  Silence greeted him.

  “Ru?” he whispered.

  Tension released within. “Kai,” his sister breathed, opening the door to embrace him tight and hard.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, pushing her away to look her over. To his relief she was garbed in quilted pants and layered tunics like his own.

  “Yes.” She drew him close again. “I’m better. Still a long way to go, I fear, but I won’t slow you down, I promise.”

  “You won’t,” he agreed, the woman’s warning ringing in his ears. “I won’t let you. Come, we mustn’t waste time. I need to get our food still.”

  “No, I have it right here.” She dragged a pair of packs from behind a chair. “Food, blankets, four waterskins, fire starter, and a rope. Cloaks, too.” She held up a good, thick cloak. “They were here when I arrived.”

  “Who brought you?”

  “I don’t know. I was a little… fuzzy. It was a woman, and she said you’d be along shortly.”

  “And here I am.” He picked the packs up by their straps. They were heavy. “Bring the cloaks. Stay close. Be quiet.”

  “I’m right behind you.”

  As they snuck through the keep, they stopped and started half a dozen times to avoid servants and guards. Sherakai had never realized what a busy place it was in the middle of the night. He led Mimeru to one of the clerk’s offices, listening with ears and aro to make sure no one was inside. He gestured her in and closed the door behind them. Quiet. Calm. He focused on his memory of Aishe running. The rhythmic thud of hooves against earth. The smooth movement of muscle. Sunlight on his face.

  Crossing to the narrow window, he pushed the drapes aside and peered out. Satisfied that this side of the building lay deep in shadow, he unlatched the glass and eased it open. Another quick check, and he dumped the packs and clambered out, then turned to help Mimeru. She gasped as he lifted her free of the sill and set her on her feet.

  “You didn’t used to be able to do that,” she whispered.

  “Thank Iniki.”

  “Maybe another time.”

  He did not respond, but reached up to straighten the fabric and pull the window closed. Bairith’s gardens took up a significant part of the inner courtyard. The high walls offered protection from the wind, but it was still cold enough to take his breath away. Little drifts of white brightened the corners. The air held the promise of snow. Would it help hide them or ruin their chances completely?

  One pack over his shoulder and the other in the opposite hand, Sherakai led the way through the frozen garden. With a finger to his lips and then pointing to the ground, he guided her to the edges of the gravel path. It made going slow, but kept them from giving themselves away with the crunch of gravel. When he reached the corner nearest the stables, he pulled her down and set the packs beside her.

  “Wait here,” he whispered. He wanted to run across the space, but forced himself to take a moment to calm himself. It was perhaps the most difficult thing he had ever done—thinking ahead, remaining alert, and keeping himself as serene as the Starglass. He was not and he knew it, but if he dwelled on how much that frightened him the game would be up.

  Just as Mimeru touched his forearm, he got to his feet and walked across the yard to the great stable doors. He inched one open and slid inside. While his eyes adjusted to the dim light cast by a hooded lantern down one aisle, he listened for the sound of someone moving about. Only the snuffle and thump of the horses greeted his ears. He waited a little longer, then made his way a little down the aisle. Still nothing.

  Satisfied, he returned to where he’d left his sister. “I need you to take this,” he said, gently turning her about and lifting the pack. She threaded her arms through the straps. In the scant light her face shone pale. Why did it scare him so much? He swallowed the tightness in his throat and counted backwards in Galayan. As if he belonged there, he hefted the other pack and strode to the stable door.

  “Inside,” he whispered, glancing around as Mimeru ducked through the narrow opening.

  The guards atop the wall had their attention focused outward. Slipping through the door, he pulled it shut. The thump echoed and he froze. A horse nickered.

  When none of the grooms appeared to investigate the sound, he hurried to the narrow siege door. It opened easily, but beyond lay pitch darkness. He hadn’t thought of that and wanted to swear in frustration, but Mimeru was right behind him. One hand held before him, he stepped inside. He had an awareness of plenty of space, but extended his hands and his senses to make certain.

  “Put your pack down here by the door, then come help me,” he said, backing out.

  She responded wordlessly, fear shivering from her.

  In the stable proper, Sherakai made his way to the tack room. The hooded lantern hung from a peg, providing faint golden light. He listened at the door. Mimeru listened with him. He could feel her straining to catch any man-made noise.

  A little at a time, he lifted the latch. This one squeaked. One or two of the horses stirred, but not a sound came from the stairs leading to the grooms’ dormitory. He pressed his forehead against the door frame and whispered a verse from a song he used to sing with his mother. When his heart steadied, he grabbed a pair of bridles, handing them both to Mimeru. “Get the lantern and take these to where you left your pack,” he whispered against her ear. He followed with a saddle.

  Lifting the hood on the lamp a little, he saw they were in a small chamber. A barrel of torches stood beside another door in the back wall. A heavy crossbar held it shut, blocking entrance from the other side. Mimeru followed him, and between them they lifted the bar and set it down on a floor covered with bits of old hay. The dust made his nose tickle.

  “Stay here,” he said to her pinched expression.

  Halfway back with the second saddle, he heard the tread of someone on the stairs. A glance back showed the gleam of a light.

  He ran.

  In the hidden room, he thrust the saddle at Mimeru and spun on his heel to close the door. He left it open a crack and pressed his face to the seam to watch.

  “Hey, beautiful.” The stablehand rubbed a nose hanging out over a stall door. “How are you? Everything good? I thought I heard something up here. Did you see anything, eh? No, how could you? Nobody hung a night lantern. You probably like it better that way, eh? Easier to sleep when it’s dark.”

  The horse bobbed its head and nuzzled for a treat.

  The stablehand laughed softly. “I got nothing for you, girl.” Fending her off, he moved back down the aisle. Sherakai couldn’t see him, but he heard the squeaky latch lift. After a moment or two, light flared and spilled out of the tack room. The stablehand hung a new lantern on the peg and drew the hood down, returning the aisle to semi-darkness. Then he held his own light up and peered into the shadows either way. Going back into the tack room, he reappeared with a pitchfork and explored a little further.

  Sherakai eased the door completely shut. In the corner, he made out the faintest glimmer of light. Mimeru had put the hood all the way down on the lantern and hidden it behind their packs. Calm, calm, calm! The stablehand would go away. They’d be fine.

  And then the door opened behind him and he tumbled backward.

  Chapter 82

  The man gave a muffled shout of surprise, dropping his light and swinging the pitchfork. The lantern crash
ed to the floor and went out. Sherakai jerked sideways to avoid the descending tines. A line of pain carved across his back and he gasped. Iron tines pinned him to the floor through his tunic. He reached for the man’s leg.

  His opponent yanked the pitchfork free and brought it up for another stab.

  Arm wrapping around the other man’s ankle, Sherakai punched him in the side of his knee. The man swore and stumbled away, hefting the pitchfork again.

  New light spilled from the concealed chamber.

  On his knees, Sherakai grabbed the shaft above the tines. He shoved the tool outward, keeping hold to prevent it from dropping. Off balance, the man stumbled forward. He pulled his head up at the last instant, and Sherakai’s fist crashed into his throat. He dropped like a load of stones, hands going up around his neck as he struggled to breathe.

  “Kai?” Mimeru’s terrified voice came from behind him, where she stood brandishing her own pitchfork.

  “I’m fine.”

  The stable hand was not. A harsh, creaking noise came from him and Sherakai felt his way up to the man’s head. “Light?”

  A moment later, Mimeru brought the lantern. Kneeling beside the pair, she opened the hood enough for them to see. The man’s eyes showed white with terror. In a flash, he recognized the man who had brought him water all those months ago when he’d hidden in Tanoshi’s stables, sick with grief. Horror washed over Sherakai and set his heart to pounding.