“Barely within window range. We can’t let them see us.”
Vigorre ducked as Borlen swung the boom across the boat and the sail filled. Beside him, Kevessa asked, “Do you need wind?”
“Not now,” Borlen said. “Better keep everything dark. But be ready when we get closer to the base of the cliff. I don’t like the look of those rocks.”
Vigorre peered at the Matriarch’s palace looming at the top of the sheer cliff. “If there really is a secret entrance, it’s well hidden.”
“It wouldn’t stay secret for long if it wasn’t.” Borlen pointed to the dark shape far across the water. “Is that them?”
“Yes. Don’t get too close.”
“But don’t hang too far back, either,” Kevessa warned. “All our hard work will be for nothing if we come too late.”
Vigorre resisted the urge to comment sarcastically on the obviousness of her statement. They were all on edge. This was their only chance to save Ramunna and win redemption for the Wizards’ Guild. If they failed, the Matriarch would die. Her heir would surrender to the Marvannans, ending all hope of wizards establishing a presence in Ravanetha.
Nirre landed on the side of the boat in a flurry of wings. She tore at the fish she’d caught, gulping down chunks of flesh. Vigorre watched her, marveling anew at the power in her sharp talons and hooked beak.
Nirre paused. After a long moment, grudging words formed in Vigorre’s mind, forced out against the resistance of every instinct the raptor possessed. Want some?
No, thanks. Vigorre appreciated how much of a sacrifice the offer was for the still half-wild bird, but he had no desire to eat raw fish, even if it was considered a delicacy in parts of Giroda. You enjoy. Just stay close.
Nirre returned to her meal. Kevessa shuddered and looked away. “Are we close enough to open a window?”
“I think so. Keep it low and small.”
Kevessa put her hand well below the sides of the boat and pressed her cheek into Nina’s fur. The ball of light that opened over her palm grew only as large as Vigorre’s fist before clearing to a thin ring of sparkles. Within, he glimpsed shadowy figures moving.
Kevessa hunched over the window to study it. “They’re very near the rocks now. One of them is arguing with the captain of the fishing boat.” She listened intently. Vigorre leaned close so he could hear the conversation without Nina having to make it any louder.
The man at the wheel was nearly shouting. “This is madness! I told you there’s nowhere to land between the docks and the ice caves. If we go any closer the waves will smash us into the rocks.”
The figure in gray cut him off with a curt gesture. He spoke with a thick Marvannan accent. “Don’t you trust your own Keeper? Yoran Lirolla gave us the coordinates.” He turned to one of the others, who was squinting through a sextant. “Are we on course?”
The man nodded. “See that outcropping?” He pointed. “It’s directly beneath the point of the third-highest tower, just as Keeper Yoran’s message indicates. We should be safe to approach another five hundred feet before we switch to the rowboat.”
“Five hundred more feet?” The captain glared at the Marvannans. “Keeper Yoran said nothing about sacrificing my ship.” His fingers tightened on the wheel. “I’m a simple fisherman. I never asked to get tangled up in whatever you’re plotting.”
The man who seemed to be the leader of the Marvannans stepped threateningly close. “You wish to see the Matriarch overthrown, do you not? You desire to see the true Purifier faith ascendant in Ramunna as it is in Marvanna?”
The captain’s gaze faltered before the Marvannan’s stare. “Of course.”
“Then you will continue to steer as my navigator directs you.” The Marvannan’s voice was a threatening growl.
Kevessa looked up from the window as the men fell silent. She squinted at the cliff. “There’s the third-highest tower.”
Vigorre traced a line down from its point and spotted what must be the outcropping the Marvannan had mentioned, a faint shadow against the rock of the cliff. “There. Borlen, do you see it?”
“I’ve got it.” Borlen scowled. “This is ridiculous. None of the secret passages I know come anywhere near here.”
Vigorre shivered. “Maybe it was built centuries ago and forgotten.”
“More likely I wasn’t high enough in rank to be told. Lirolla had to learn about it somehow.” Borlen’s glower deepened. “I wonder which of my former superiors is the Purifier traitor?”
“Move us farther south. I suspect that fishing captain is going to take off like the Armada’s pursuing him as soon as he drops off the Marvannans.”
“I don’t know. I think we can safely assume the approach to the landing spot is clear, but if we venture too far off, we’re going to be the ones smashed on the rocks.”
“Good point.” Vigorre looked at the small figure huddled in the bow. “Tesi, can you and Mimi keep an eye out for submerged rocks? Keep your window small and low like Kevessa’s doing, and be ready to shove the boat away.”
The Girodan ducked her head. “We will do so.” A faint haze of golden light silhouetted her body for a moment, then dimmed until it was barely visible.
Vigorre shook his head. It had been a month since Tesi had joined the wizards, and she was as much an enigma as ever. She quietly and competently assisted with patients, greatly increasing the number of people they were able to help, listening and diligently applying everything they taught her about the Mother’s power, but otherwise kept to herself as she always had.
Three days ago, when Kevessa had sent word by Nalini that the attempt on the Matriarch’s life was imminent, Vigorre had offered to let Tesi stay behind. It wasn’t her homeland at stake. But she’d surprised him by insisting on being part of the venture. She’d kept watch with them through the long dark hours each of the past three nights, silent the whole time except when directly addressed.
Low and urgent, Kevessa said, “They’re getting into the rowboat.”
A glance at her window showed the gray-shrouded figures descending a rope ladder and picking up oars. Vigorre swallowed. Timing was going to be critical. They couldn’t get so close the Marvannans spotted them, but they couldn’t lag so far behind the Matriarch was dead before they could intervene.
The wait seemed interminable. He peered over the dark waves, unable to see much. He wished he could send Nirre up to watch, but he needed his familiar close. Finally Kevessa reported, “They’re heading toward the cliff. The captain’s taking the fishing boat north.”
Vigorre could just make out the white sails of the fishing boat drifting away, but the Marvannan’s rowboat was lost in the gloom. “Borlen, take us in. Do you want Nirre to give you some wind?”
“That would be too visible. Maybe push the boat from under the water?”
Vigorre put his hand on Nirre’s back where she perched on the side of the boat. Can you do what Borlen wants?
She responded by pulling energy from him. The water around them took on a faint golden shimmer. The boat accelerated.
The cliff was looming overhead when Kevessa said, “There’s a tiny cove hidden behind that outcropping. They pulled their boat in and landed. I don’t see any doorway, but one of them is feeling around—”
The boat lurched. Vigorre lost contact with Nirre as he slid across the bench and collided with Kevessa. Borlen cursed and hauled on the tiller. The sail flapped loose.
“Your pardon,” Tesi said, breathless. “We diverted the boat from a rock.”
“Good work,” Vigorre said, scrambling back to grab the flapping Nirre. As soon as his hand met her feathers she renewed the propulsion on the boat. “Maybe you can help push, keep us headed in the right direction.”
She nodded. Mimi added their power to Vigorre and Nirre’s. They avoided several more rocks by a wider margin. Then they were at the outcropping.
“Stay back,” Kevessa warned in an urgent whisper. “They’ve got the door open, it was camouflaged to look like the
rest of the stone, but they’re not all through yet.”
Vigorre’s muscles protested as Nirre drew yet more strength to halt the boat’s progress and hold it in place outside the dark crack in the cliff face. He was glad for Tesi’s help, and for Borlen’s when he prodded the snake coiled at his feet and Shadow added their energy to the task.
At last Kevessa gave the all clear. Tesi leaned over the bow and guided them into the cleft. Nirre and Shadow propelled them forward. The glow from under the water illuminated the narrow space, but Kevessa didn’t protest, so Vigorre assumed the Marvannans had closed the door behind them.
Sure enough, when they shoved the sailboat onto the narrow strip of pebbles next to the Marvannans’ rowboat, only a blank rock face confronted them. Vigorre would have sworn the stone had never been touched by anything but wind and water. Kevessa scrambled out of the boat ahead of him and went to an indistinguishable spot near the left end of the tiny beach, peering into the window Nina kept open over her hand. “Here,” she said. “The Marvannans had a key. But I think I can—”
The golden glow of the Mother’s power slid into the rock. Kevessa screwed up her face. “The mechanism reset when they closed the door. Nina, give it a push there, then hold that back while you twist here—”
Something clicked loudly, and a door-shaped section of stone swung inward. They all froze. Kevessa peered into her window for a long moment, then shook her head. “They’re climbing some stairs. I don’t think they heard.”
“Are they going to see the light from the window?” How were they going to follow the assassins if they couldn’t watch where they went?
“They’ve got torches. I think the glare will hide the glow.”
He didn’t like it, but she was probably correct. “All right. But stay at the back, and try to keep us around a couple bends from them.”
That wasn’t difficult while they were climbing the narrow stair that corkscrewed up through the cliff. Nirre dug her talons into the leather pad on his shoulder. Her hatred of the confined space beat at his mind; he stroked her and gave her what reassurance he could. The other familiars seemed to be doing well enough. Nina gave an occasional nervous chitter from Kevessa’s shoulder, but Mimi was relaxed as she padded at Tesi’s heels, and Shadow slithered beside Borlen as if he owned the place.
After an exhausting climb they reached another concealed door. It opened to a long level corridor that stretched straight for many hundreds of feet, occasional branches splitting off on the far side.
“I recognize this passage,” Borlen whispered. “We’re on the lowest level, with the kitchens and servant’s quarters. From here they can reach anywhere in the palace.”
Vigorre acknowledged him grimly. In order to avoid being seen, they had to wait until the Marvannans were much too far ahead for Vigorre’s comfort, their pool of torchlight and muffled footsteps dim in the distance, before they slipped through the door and followed. When their quarry vanished down one of the side passages the wizards ran to close the distance. Vigorre was terrified the whole time that Kevessa’s window would show the Marvannans bursting into a lighted room and falling on the unsuspecting Matriarch, but it displayed more dark hallways, then more stairs, these cutting sharply back and forth, flight after flight.
Would they have the energy to fight when they reached their destination? Vigorre’s heart hammered so hard it felt as if it would burst from his chest, and Kevessa panted raggedly as she toiled up the endless stairs. But Tesi seemed unaffected. Her home was in Giroda’s mountains, he remembered. She was probably inured to climbing. Borlen’s soldier training was evident in the tireless drive of his steps.
When Kevessa’s window showed the Marvannans stopping by a seemingly blank section of wooden wall which slid open to reveal more dark corridors, Borlen cursed softly but fiercely. “That leads to the Matriarch’s private quarters. The traitor must be a member of her personal guard; they’re they only ones who know how to open it. I would have sworn all of them were loyal.”
Kevessa’s voice was strained. “Yoran Lirolla likes to threaten people’s loved ones to force their cooperation.”
“Who did he learn that from?” Vigorre urged them forward as the Marvannans entered the new passage. “The Matriarch is as ruthless as her enemies. If the consequences wouldn’t be so dire I’d let them have her.”
Borlen would have argued, but Vigorre waved him silent and hurried on. The Marvannans turned through the maze of corridors with confidence. He didn’t dare let them get too far ahead now that they were surely about to strike.
The window showed them stopping abruptly. Kevessa put out a hand to halt the wizards just before they blundered around the corner. Borlen clenched his fists. “The Matriarch’s bedchamber,” he mouthed.
How late was it? Would the Matriarch be abed yet? Her entertainments frequently lasted until near dawn. Did the Marvannans plan to conceal themselves and lie in wait? The wizards would have to do the same. Everything depended on the Matriarch witnessing them save her.
The leader of the assassins pressed his ear to the door. After a moment during which Kevessa seemed to be silently arguing with her familiar, Nina sent the viewpoint of the window into the room.
Moonlight spilled through a bank of windows overlooking the ocean, illuminating the huge curtained bed. From behind closed velvet curtains came the sound of movement, murmuring voices, and occasional low moans of pleasure.
Vigorre’s face grew hot. Of all times for the Marvannans to arrive! The assassins couldn’t have planned it better. The Matriarch would be even more vulnerable than if they’d caught her sleeping, because Borlen said she always had guards present while she slept. The window showed no one else in the bedchamber.
A wooden panel in the wall swung silently open. One by one the Marvannans crept in. The occupants of the bed continued their activity, oblivious.
“Now!” Vigorre cried. He tossed Nirre into the air and charged behind her as she flapped through the hidden door and burst into the bedchamber. “Matriarch! Beware!”
The noise from the bed abruptly halted. The Marvannans whirled to face the wizards.
Nirre raked her talons down the face of the leader, then whirled to land on Vigorre’s shoulder. Can we kill them? he demanded.
Only if there’s no other way to stop them from killing.
He hadn’t expected anything different. Disable them, then.
Nirre pressed against his ear and sent the Mother’s power flowing out his reaching fingers. It surrounded the leader of the Marvannans. Vigorre felt a deep wrench and heard a sickening pop as she tore the Marvannan’s hip out of its socket.
The man cried out as he collapsed. The rest of the Marvannans fell on the wizards, save for one who rushed the bed.
Golden light fended off a blow from a sword and a thrust of a knife. Vigorre ignored them as he fought to make his way through the press of struggling bodies. Nirre, quick—
Lord Renarre burst through the bed curtains, naked, a rapier in his hand. He plunged it into the Marvannan’s belly and ripped it free in one swift movement. The wounded man kept coming; Lord Renarre parried his blow. Nirre threw the Marvannan across the room with the Mother’s power. He crashed into the wall and fell sprawling.
“Get away from us, demon!” Lord Renarre brought his bloody sword up to menace Vigorre. “I won’t let you touch her.”
Vigorre threw up his hands. “We’re here to help,” he protested. “The Marvannans are trying to kill the Matriarch!”
Renarre spared a brief glance at where the rest of the wizards were battling the Marvannans. His brow furrowed.
The Matriarch emerged from the bed and took a stand next to her husband. She, too, had a sword in her hand. A lace-edged sheet was wrapped around her body. Her eyes took in the situation in one furious glance. “Marvannan assassins, all of them,” she spat.
“No, your majesty, I swear—”
Nirre sent gold light bursting from Vigorre’s spread hands. The Matriarch lunged
aside; Lord Renarre lurched to intercept the beam. The Mother’s power enveloped a streaking arrow and froze it mid-flight, inches from where the Matriarch’s heart had been an instant before.
Renarre fixed Vigorre with a hard stare as the light died and the arrow clattered to the floor. The Matriarch ignored them and backed toward the door, sword held defensively before her. “Guards!” she bellowed.
A quick glance showed Vigorre that the wizards were rapidly neutralizing the Marvannans. Several more lay writhing or moaning or ominously still. Borlen held one pinned to the ground while Shadow efficiently hobbled another. Kevessa was panting hard as Nina struggled to cope with three at once. Tesi had both hands out, golden threads spooling from each to a frozen prisoner. She stared in helpless horror as the last Marvannan lurched toward her, sword raised.
“Tesi, have Mimi—” Vigorre cursed and flashed an image to Nirre. The eagle sent light from his hand to slam aside the descending weapon and shove the man to the ground.
But Tesi kept staring as Nirre dislocated her attacker’s hip. Vigorre whirled to follow her gaze.
The main door of the bed chamber was open. A man in the uniform of the Matriarch’s personal guard stood there, taking in the combat, his face showing not surprise or horror, but calculation. As the Matriarch backed toward him, all her attention on the battling wizards and Marvannans, he grimaced, drew his sword, and thrust it into the small of her back.
Nirre’s light reached the guard an instant too late. The Mother’s power froze the attacker, but his sword had penetrated deep into the Matriarch’s body. Vigorre raced toward her as she swayed and sagged to the ground, a stunned expression on her face.
Borlen and Shadow finished with their opponent and sent their power to drag the traitorous guard away. Vigorre dropped to his knees beside the wounded Matriarch, reaching for her back.
She grabbed his arm. “Save my baby,” she rasped.
Dear Mother, was she pregnant again? Vigorre glanced with new horror at the guard’s sword, which surely had been deliberately aimed to skewer both mother and child. “We’ll try,” he promised.
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