Deathcaster

by Cinda Williams Chima

  DeVilliers looked at Lila and raised an eyebrow, as if to say, And you are . . . ?

  “This is Lila Byrne,” Shadow said quickly. “Captain Byrne’s daughter.”

  DeVilliers did a double take. “Byrne? I heard Julianna call you by that name in the meeting, but—”

  “I’m Captain Byrne’s chance child by a nixie,” Lila said. “He barely escaped with his life.”

  “Is that so?” DeVilliers drew her pierced eyebrows together in a skeptical frown.

  Maybe, Lila thought, I should get a sash embroidered with that story so I don’t have to repeat it.

  “You can trust Lila to hear whatever you have to say,” Shadow said. “Just don’t believe anything that comes out of her mouth.” He looked up and down the corridor. “But let’s not talk here. Let’s go back to Kendall House.”

  “Only if a girl can get something to drink at Kendall House,” DeVilliers said.

  “A girl can,” Shadow said.

  And so they walked to Kendall House, Shadow and DeVilliers reminiscing about past bad behavior, and Lila trailing behind, like a scowling chaperone.

  What’s wrong with you? Lila gave herself a mental shake.

  Back at Kendall House, Shadow pulled glasses down from the shelf while DeVilliers circled the room, her hand on her amulet, putting up barriers to eavesdroppers.

  As soon as she’d finished, she poured herself some cider, took a long pull, and sat on the edge of the cold hearth. Lila poured bingo for herself and sat in Shadow’s most comfortable chair. Shadow drank water.

  “What the hell is going on, Shadow?” DeVilliers said. “That was by far the strangest meeting I’ve ever been in. I came in expecting to be pilloried for a massive scummer-storm. Instead, they’ve moved right on to a new succession plan.” She drank again. “Where’s Byrne? Where’s the queen? Is Julianna in charge now?”

  Shadow explained what had been happening in the captain’s absence.

  “So the queen is hiding out in the woods?” DeVilliers shook her head. “That’s not like her. And what’s Bayar doing sitting on council? They could use him in the east.”

  “I think he’s going back soon,” Shadow said. “As for the queen, Captain Byrne is taking no chances with her health.”

  Now DeVilliers looked at Lila, almost accusingly. “Your father.”

  Lila shrugged. “Not my fault.”

  “What exactly happened, Hadley?” Shadow said. “You had four wizards aboard Sea Wolf. How did the pirates manage to sink your ship? I noticed you never mentioned Strangward in council. Did he betray you or what?”

  DeVilliers slumped against the fireplace. “I don’t think so,” she said glumly.

  “You don’t think so?” Shadow poured more cider.

  “It was partly my fault,” DeVilliers said. “I didn’t trust Strangward, and that made me question everything he said. As things turned out, l think I should have listened to him.” She paused long enough to take a drink. “He warned us not to sail to the Northern Islands in Sea Wolf. He wanted to stop in Tarvos and switch to a different ship. We were afraid of a double cross, so we elected to sail straight to Celesgarde.

  “Strangward refused. He asked us to drop him off on the nearest point of land if we insisted on sailing north in Sea Wolf. I refused. I was afraid he was going to alert Celestine. So he took the wind away.”

  “He really can do that?” Lila blurted.

  “Aye,” DeVilliers said. “He can. So it was a standoff, until one of the empress’s ships showed up. Strangward recognized the ship and her captain. He said that there’d be no wizards on board, so we should use conventional weapons so as not to tip the empress off. I told Finn to raise a barricade, Strangward was handling the wind, and Prince Adrian and Talbot went aft to stall the enemy while I readied the guns. They refused to stand down, so I loosed a broadside at the other ship. It was so badly damaged that when we got under way, it couldn’t follow. We were pulling away, and I thought we were in the clear. And then, as I said in the meeting, we took a direct hit to the stern, where Prince Adrian and Talbot were standing.”

  “I thought you said that Finn had put up barricades,” Shadow said.

  “He did,” DeVilliers said, “but they were down when we were hit.” She paused. “Not only that,” she continued in a low voice, “it was wizard flame that hit us. Not cannon fire.”

  “So . . . Strangward was mistaken when he said there would be no wizards on board?” Shadow said.

  Getting this story out of DeVilliers is like prying a barnacle off a pier, Lila thought crossly.

  DeVilliers shook her head. “I guess it was what you might call ‘friendly fire,’” she said.

  “Strangward?” Lila guessed.

  “Much as I would like to think that,” DeVilliers said, staring at her boots, “it was Finn sul’Mander who sank my ship.”

  Shadow broke into the stunned silence. “Finn!” He shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “I know,” DeVilliers said, nodding miserably. “I’ve known Finn since we were lýtlings. He and Prince Adrian were very close, too, before the prince went away. And Finn was one of our best war wizards, fighting against Arden, until he was wounded. He’s changed since then.”

  “War changes a person,” Shadow said, sliding his betrothal ring up and down his finger. “Some of us get stronger, and some . . . anyway.” He cleared his throat. “I knew Finn was struggling, but he seemed to have turned a corner. He was planning a wedding.”

  “Did you confront Finn?” Lila said. “After—you know, when you got back to land? Does he know that you know?”

  DeVilliers shook her head. “It just— I didn’t want to have to kill him, and I didn’t want him to kill me, either. I wanted to bring him back with me, and I didn’t want to have to fight him every step of the way. I decided I’d tell Queen Raisa and Captain Byrne about it and let them decide what to do. I was going to recommend that a healer evaluate him. Someone like my brother, Ty. I planned to ask for mercy for Finn. But when I got back here . . .” DeVilliers trailed off.

  “When you got back here,” Lila said, “you find the queen and Captain Byrne gone, and Finn’s fiancée, Julianna, is running the council. And Finn’s mother and mentor are on the council, too.”

  DeVilliers blinked at Lila, as if she hadn’t expected insight from that quarter. “Exactly. I meant to talk to the queen privately before we released that news to the full council. And now I hear that Queen Raisa cannot deal with any trauma.” DeVilliers blotted at her eyes.

  “I’m so sorry, Hadley,” Shadow whispered. “And I’m sorry about your ship. I know how much you loved Sea Wolf.”

  Hadley brushed that aside. “Ships can be replaced, but people can’t.”

  That’s generous of her, Lila thought. Having been raised on the coast, she knew how much masters prized their ships.

  “See, I feel like I’ve failed everyone,” DeVilliers continued. “And when I looked around that council table, the only friendly face I saw was yours.”

  Shadow embraced DeVilliers, patting her back and whispering in her ear.

  “So who do you think is in on this?” Lila said, to break up the lovefest.

  They both looked up at her. “In on what?” DeVilliers said.

  “This whole thing stinks,” Lila said. “I’ve been around long enough to know a conspiracy when I catch a whiff of it. Finn is engaged to Julianna. He sabotages a mission to rescue the princess heir, and eliminates her brother. It’s not looking good for Princess Alyssa, and Julianna is suddenly next in line to the throne. Does Finn fancy being consort to the queen?”

  DeVilliers frowned. “I don’t know,” she said. “It’s hard to imagine Finn coldheartedly planning the murder of his childhood friend.”

  “Like you said, war changes people,” Lila said briskly. “Maybe it’s an advantage that I don’t know and love any of your friends here at court. I do know that Prince Adrian never trusted the Bayars, and the High Wizard has taken a special in
terest in his nephew. Do you think they’re conspiring together, or do you think Bayar is using Finn to get what he wants?”

  “I’m more inclined to think that Finn’s war experiences have traumatized him,” DeVilliers said a little stiffly.

  “Couldn’t wartime experiences make a person more vulnerable to being used by someone, especially someone as strong-willed as the High Wizard?” Lila said.

  “Possibly,” DeVilliers said, frowning. “Ty said Lord Bayar strongly opposed Finn’s decision to enter the healing service. He wanted him to continue to train at the academy. It was a real bone of contention between them. I’ve heard that, years ago, Bayar was involved in a conspiracy to seize the throne.”

  “Look,” Shadow said, “we can sit here and speculate, but Captain Byrne and Queen Raisa know more than anyone about that history. I think it’s important that we seek direction from them.”

  “But—I didn’t think—I was told that—” DeVilliers sputtered, looking confused.

  “The truth is that the queen is healthier than the council has been led to believe,” Shadow said. “Captain Byrne has the same nose for conspiracy that Lila does. He no longer believes that the palace is safe for the queen. We’ve been sending messages back and forth. Ty is attending her. We should go talk to her, and you can also ask Ty what he thinks about Finn.”

  “You want me to tell the queen what happened?” DeVilliers looked even more miserable than before. “Why do I always have to be the bearer of bad news? First it was Oden’s Ford, and now this. I may as well dress up as the Breaker’s messenger.”

  Lila understood. The only upside to the queen’s illness was that DeVilliers could avoid confessing her failure to the queen. But Lila felt that prickle on the back of her neck—a warning that Death was pausing at the gate, deciding whether to pay a call.

  “We should go tonight,” Lila said. “Something is going on, and I’m afraid it’s going to get ahead of us if we don’t act quickly.”

  37

  BLOOD BROTHERS

  That night, Lila and Shadow rose after midnight and slipped out of the castle close. They met DeVilliers at the livery a few blocks away from the palace, where they kept their horses. By mutual agreement, they spoke no unnecessary word until they were well on their way up Hanalea Peak.

  DeVilliers was glum, lips moving silently, probably practicing what she might say.

  Queen Raisa, I have bad news and bad news, Lila thought of suggesting.

  They passed the ruins of a cabin—little more than rotting boards and a stone chimney. Shadow explained that it had been occupied by a hermit moonshiner years ago, who’d been cursed to live forever. If he was cursed to live forever, Lila reasoned, then why isn’t he still here?

  Gooseflesh rose on Lila’s neck again. There are so many ghosts in this place, she thought, so many forgotten stories. Too much magic for her taste.

  It was a good night for ghost stories. The air was thick and warm, unusual in these mountains, especially before the summer solstice. Branches clattered overhead as the wind rose, and last year’s leaves eddied around their horses’ feet. The moon and stars were obscured by thick clouds. It will storm before morning, Lila thought. She hoped they would be under a roof when it did. Storms on Hanalea could be heart-stoppingly fierce.

  Her stallion, Swiver, seemed to sense the tension in the air, or in his rider, anyway. He plunged and danced and shied at every imagined threat. He was a terrible horse to begin with—cranky, unreliable, cagey as hell. That’s why Lila liked him. They were kindred spirits.

  Lila always felt out of place in the Spirits. She was a city girl and a smuggler, a fair hand with a boat, but no mountain scout. To her, woods were what you traveled through to get someplace with a warm bed, a roof, and ale on offer. She continually twisted in her saddle to scan their back trail, convinced that she heard footsteps following and felt the pressure of hungry eyes.

  Wolves, she thought, and that theory was confirmed when she heard their lonely howling echoing from peak to peak. Swiver didn’t like that one bit.

  What am I doing here? Lila thought, for the umpteenth time. Somewhere to the east, her family lay dead, gulls and ravens picking at their bones. Somewhere, hidden by that wall of mountains, the queen’s army was fighting a desperate battle against the forces of Empress Celestine. Lila had never been the military type, but a dark, vengeful part of her longed to be engaged in a fight that involved the hacking off of heads.

  Thunder rumbled to the northwest, suggesting the rain would be here sooner rather than later. The howling continued. It seemed to be coming from farther up the mountain, from the direction of the temple house.

  Ahead, Shadow had reined in. He looked about, as if perplexed.

  “What is it?” DeVilliers said, coming abreast of him on the narrow trail, glancing back over her shoulder at Lila.

  “We should have been challenged by now,” Shadow said. “The Demonai have been keeping a wide perimeter around the temple house to prevent anyone from getting too close.”

  “Maybe they didn’t want to get wet,” Lila suggested as the first fat drops of rain came down.

  This earned an eye roll from Shadow. Lila got the message. Demonai warriors aren’t afraid of a little rain.

  He seemed to be crafting a retort when a nearby tree exploded, a bolt of lightning cleaving it in half. Lila fought to control Swiver, breathing in burning wood and the metallic smell of death, feeling the tingling in her fingers and toes that signified a close call. The skies opened and the rain poured down.

  That’s when she heard DeVilliers shout for help.

  Lila wheeled her horse, looking for the others, and saw dark shadows swarming through the trees. Had the wolves come for them? She blinked rainwater from her lashes and looked again. Now one of the shadows was in her face, swinging at her with a very real blade, apparently attempting to take off her leg. She twisted Swiver’s head around, trying to back away, and the blade bit into the stallion’s shoulder.

  Swiver had had enough. He reared, his hooves smashing down on the blade man’s head.

  Lila leaned down from her saddle, sword in a two-handed grip, but the man was obviously dead, given that his skull was crushed in. He was dressed in a black robe, like a priest or dedicate, maybe. This pinged a memory, but Lila had no time to dwell on it.

  She looked around. Shadow was on his way to dispatching one of the blade men, but DeVilliers was surrounded, fighting for her life, six on one.

  “What the hell?” Lila said to herself, heeling Swiver forward. “Why pick on her? What’s wrong with us?”

  Swiver was more than happy to contribute by smashing into one of DeVilliers’s attackers. Lila leaned down from her saddle and finished him by severing his head from his shoulders. Well, she thought. You’re hacking off heads. What you wanted, right?

  Shadow had finished his blade man and also came to DeVilliers’s aid. Her assailants were so fixed on her that they scarcely noticed Shadow was there until he began cutting them down. DeVilliers was bleeding from a dozen wounds, but she kept fighting, and they kept coming, with Lila and Shadow circling like snarling, biting dogs.

  Finally, the assassins were all down, if not dead. There were eight of them, all dressed in those dark robes. Lila dismounted and moved to intercept one of them, who was dragging himself forward on his belly. As she raised her sword for the killing blow, she saw that he was lapping at a puddle of mingled rainwater and blood.

  “Scummer,” she growled, taking an involuntary step back, remembering another posse of assassins with a taste for wizard’s blood. She rolled the man over. The blood smeared around his mouth and the telltale silver cup pendant confirmed her suspicion. She narrowly avoided spewing all over him.

  Why do all the bad, creepy things always come around again, while the good things are one-offs?

  With that, the assassin took his last breath and expired.

  Well, Lila thought, nudging him with her foot, at least he died happy.

  This
time, Lila searched the man thoroughly, finding three more blades hidden in various places on his body. In a cloth bag, she found a familiar, crystalline stone. What was it he’d called it?

  Lord Darian’s stone.

  Lila tried to swallow down the dread boiling up in her throat. There was a pattern here that she wasn’t seeing, an unseen puppetmaster working the strings.

  Lord Darian. The image that came to her mind looked a lot like Micah Bayar.

  You don’t even know the man, Lila scolded herself. Can a person inherit mistrust?

  More importantly, had the assassins been on their way to the temple house, or on their way back to the city, their mission accomplished?

  What would she, Shadow, and DeVilliers find at the temple house? A scene of carnage? More assassins? Should they go on or hurry back to town to raise the alarm?

  She knew the answer as soon as the question surfaced. They had to go on.

  Shadow’s voice broke into her morbid thoughts. “Lila. Are you all right?”

  She looked up. DeVilliers was off her horse, and Shadow was supporting her with an arm around her shoulders. She stood dripping in the rain, the streaks of blue in her hair vivid against a face as pale as new snow.

  “I’m all right,” she said. “You?”

  “I’m good,” Shadow said. “Hadley’s lost a lot of blood.”

  “I’m fine,” DeVilliers said, trying to shake off his arm and all but losing her balance. “Who the hell were they?”

  “They’re called Darian Brothers,” Lila said. “Another bunch of them tried to assassinate Prince Adrian at Oden’s Ford. It’s a radical sect in the Church of Malthus. They serve somebody they call Lord Darian.” Lila hesitated, rubbing her chin. “Oh, and they’re addicted to wizards’ blood.” She held up the assassin’s silver cup pendant. “Hence the cup.”

  DeVilliers looked a bit nauseous.

  Here’s a question, Lila thought. Why is it that some people think bloodlust is normal, but blood drinking is disgusting?

  Pocketing the stone and the pendant, Lila searched the rest of the dead, collecting more knives and enough stones to build her own rock garden. Shadow rounded up the horses and led them back to the scene of the attack.