Beyond the Boundary Stones (The Chronicles of Tevenar Book 3) (64 page)

Vigorre cried out. He felt as if the knife had plunged into his own chest. The power the Mother had intended for him would pour through the Matriarch instead, as deadly and destructive as when the ancient wizards had abused it.

Tharanirre fell from the falconer’s arm to dangle by her jesses. Her blood splashed to the floor. The Matriarch tried to keep her hand against the eagle’s breast, but it slipped away.

“Why isn’t it working?” she cried. She whirled on Josiah. “Did you lie to me, or not tell me everything? What else must I do?”

The guard pulled his hand away from Josiah’s face. “Nothing,” the wizard apprentice spit. “That’s how we all did it. But the Mother’s not stupid. She won’t give you her power. It was people like you who made her take it away!”

The Matriarch strode down the dais steps and slapped him hard across the face, leaving a bloody handprint on his cheek. She waved at the falconer, sending droplets flying. “Take the creature away and burn it.”

The falconer scooped the limp Tharanirre into his arms. “But your majesty, such a magnificent—”

“Get it out of my sight!” she screamed. The falconer’s shoulders slumped and he turned to make his way down the steps.

Vigorre tensed. The Matriarch kept ranting at the wizards, but he stopped listening. The falconer’s path to the exit would lead right past Vigorre’s hiding place behind one of the soaring columns that lined the room. He pulled his knife from his belt.

As the man trudged past, Vigorre slipped behind him and set the knife against his throat. “Be silent or die,” Vigorre growled in his ear.

The man stiffened. After a moment he cautiously nodded. Vigorre pulled him behind the column. He frantically studied the eagle, swallowing as he saw a faint motion at her throat. “You want her to live?”

The falconer’s eyes flicked down to Tharanirre, then up to Vigorre. “Yes,” he whispered.

“I can save her. If you try to stop me I’ll have to kill you.”

The falconer nodded. Vigorre released him. He watched the man closely for a moment, but he didn’t move. Without taking his eyes off the falconer, Vigorre set the point of his knife to his palm and drew it across, just as the Matriarch had, clenching his teeth at the sharp pain.

The falconer turned Tharanirre so her gaping wound faced up. Vigorre laid his trembling hand across it, feeling the liquid warmth of her blood and his, and the rapid flutter of her heart. With everything in him he prayed,
Mother, please…

Gold clouds swirled. The Mother shimmered into being before him. She smiled at him, although there was sadness behind her eyes. “
Now
are you willing to humble yourself beneath this eagle and allow her to use my power through you?”

“I am.” Vigorre dropped his eyes. “Forgive me for taking so long to see—”

She cut him off with a dismissive wave of her hand. “It’s not yet too late. My power can still be returned to all my children. But you must act quickly. I’ll help you as I can.”

“But, Mother,” Vigorre protested, the impossibility of the task overwhelming him. “The Matriarch has turned against us. Yoran and Davon won’t rest until she goes to war against Tevenar. The whole Wizards’ Guild is in danger. How will we survive? Let alone expand!”

“The road will be difficult, but don’t despair. There
is
hope. Tell the others. In the coming days all of you will be tried to the limits of your strength and resourcefulness and faith. But if you persevere and serve me as well as they have so far, we
will
triumph.”

She raised her hand in blessing and faded from his sight.

The world solidified around him. The gold clouds coalesced into a sphere of warmth and light surrounding his hand. A voice spoke in his mind.
Hold still. This will take a moment. Idiot woman. A shallow scratch would have been sufficient.

An odd pulling sensation drained the strength from Vigorre’s legs. He sucked in a deep breath and pressed his palm harder to Tharanirre’s bloody feathers. A blast of sensation assaulted his senses. Salty-dark-discordant-stinking-heat mutated rapidly to harmonic-sweet-fresh-warm-shimmer.

In a twist of lithe muscles the eagle broke away from the falconer and scrambled to perch on Vigorre’s arm. Her talons bit through his robes into his flesh.

Sorry.
The voice in his head didn’t sound very apologetic.
I’ll try not to hurt you, but I won’t let myself fall.

It’s all right,
Vigorre told her, although it felt like daggers were jabbing into his skin. His gaze fell on the falconer, who was watching them with round, astonished eyes. “Give me your glove,” he ordered.

After a moment’s hesitation, the falconer stripped off the thick leather glove and held it for Vigorre to thrust his hand inside. When the eagle stepped over to his protected arm, Vigorre sighed in relief. He fumbled to unfasten the blinding hood from her head.

When it finally came off, she regarded him with one brilliant black eye.
Much better. My thanks.

Vigorre stripped off her jesses while he tried to decide what to do. The Matriarch’s voice had continued in the background, growing louder and more shrill as she continued to berate the wizards. Now she reached the peak of her outburst. “Tevenar will pay in blood and flames for your betrayal! I will avenge my daughter on the corpses of every wizard and beast in your precious Guild. And after I’ve laid waste to your homeland I’ll turn my wrath against your Marvannan allies. You’ll regret the day you listened to their promises!”

Vigorre’s mind raced. What chance did they have, one wizard and familiar against the whole force of the Matriarch’s guards?

A strategy occurred to him. It was audacious and rash, and success would depend far too much on luck, but he didn’t have time to think of anything better. The Matriarch was gesturing dramatically at the guards restraining the wizards. “Take them to the dungeon. The lowest level. They’ll learn how those who betray Ramunna suffer!”

He leaned close to the falconer’s ear. “I need a distraction. Yell for help.”

He wasn’t sure whether the man would obey, but hopefully his plan would work even if he didn’t. He reached for Tharanirre with his mind, picturing what he wished her to do.
Do you understand?

Yes.

Vigorre pulled her to his chest and pressed his cheek against the smooth golden-brown feathers of her head. With his free hand he shoved the falconer out from behind the pillar. The man stumbled toward the center of the room. Vigorre thrust out his hand and a stream of gold light burst forth, struck the falconer’s back, and propelled him forward. As Vigorre had hoped, he bellowed, “Help! That madman attacked me!”

Tharanirre shoved him halfway to the Matriarch before releasing him. Vigorre sprinted in the opposite direction. It was working—everyone’s eyes were fixed on the falconer, who was flailing his arms and loudly describing what had happened. Vigorre dashed for the door as the crowd milled about, obstructing the guards who were striving to reach the place from which the falconer had appeared.

A few raised voices called attention to his passage, but he made it into the corridor and around a corner before any guards followed. He clutched Tharanirre close and ran along the path the guards would have to take to conduct the prisoners to the dungeon.

The first door he tried was locked, as were the next several. But finally one opened under his hand and he ducked inside. It was a storage room of some sort, piled with assorted clutter. As he pulled the door nearly closed and panted in the darkness, his nose told him that the huge pile of what he’d taken for vases must be the palace’s supply of extra chamberpots.

Booted footsteps tramped down the corridor. He peered through the slender crack, shifting Tharanirre so she could do the same. A cluster of guards passed, then the bound Elkan, propelled by another guard and followed by more. Each of the other captive wizards passed in turn. After a significant gap came the familiars. A dozen men each restrained Tobi and Sar, and that must be Shadow in the bag suspended from a spear supported by two guards. A single guard brought up the rear, Nina dangling by the scruff of her neck from one careless hand.

At a thought from Vigorre, Tharanirre sent a stealthy thread of light spooling toward Nina’s guard. It struck him and expanded into a soft glow that enveloped his body. He froze in place. His fingers opened and Nina dropped to the ground.

Vigorre braced himself against the strain as a second thread of light poured into the squirrel. She wasn’t badly injured, just bruised and dazed from the rough treatment. Healing her took only a moment.

The other guards continued forward, apparently unaware of the ambush, so Vigorre didn’t dare speak aloud to convey his plan. But he didn’t have to. As soon as the light around Nina faded she streaked forward, dodging the guards’ marching feet, and vanished under Kevessa’s skirt.

Vigorre and Tharanirre turned their attention to Shadow, freezing his guards and ripping his sack open. The snake’s ropy coils twisted as he fell. He hit the ground, surged forward, and sank his fangs into one of the guards bearing Tobi’s trussed body.

Chaos erupted. Gold light flashed from Kevessa, freezing more of Tobi’s guards. Borlen flung himself against his guard; Tharanirre sent the Mother’s power to break the ropes binding his hands as Shadow slithered up his leg. He put out a hand and gold light swept a guard’s sword into his grasp.

Kevessa and Nina froze more of Tobi’s captors. Vigorre directed Tharanirre to help, but she was struggling to keep control of the three they already held.
Closer,
she ordered.

Vigorre burst from the closet and ran toward the fray. The strain eased considerably as they neared their prisoners, but after they seized two more he was panting and shaking again.

Two things happened simultaneously. The man Shadow had bitten collapsed, fighting for breath. And Borlen plunged the purloined sword into the heart of the guard who’d held him.

For a moment Vigorre was forcefully reminded of the sickening sensation of his sword sliding through the flesh of the men who’d attacked Josiah. He shook off the memory impatiently, recalling a far more significant detail of that encounter.
Will the Mother let you kill them?
What had Josiah said Sar had done? Broken a blood vessel in their brains?

Not unless it’s necessary to save a life. But I can disable them.

Do it!

She ripped a deep surge of energy from him. One after another the men they’d held frozen screamed and fell. Vigorre panted as the drain on his energy let up. Tharanirre turned the Mother’s power against each of the other guards in turn, pulling bursts of strength from Vigorre’s muscles to deal with each. Borlen and Shadow saw what they were doing and copied them. Kevessa hesitated a moment, but then she and Nina joined in.

By the time Tobi thrashed free of her bonds, most of the guards were on the floor, some writhing and cursing, others still striving to reach wizards or familiars. Vigorre and Tharanirre worked on stripping weapons from their hands and shoving back any who crawled too close to one of their companions. Borlen dropped the last guard as he was raising his sword to strike Elkan. The mountain cat leaped to Elkan’s side and he sank his hands into her fur.

Josiah ran to Sar and stripped the bridle off his head as gold light broke the ropes around his neck and legs. “Vigorre!” he exclaimed delightedly, pointing at Tharanirre on his arm.

Elkan looked up from Tobi to focus on the eagle. An expression of relief and pleasure broke across his haggard face. “Thank the Mother.”

Vigorre shrugged and shifted Tharanirre into a more comfortable position. His arm ached under her weight. “You won’t be so happy with me when you hear the whole story.”

Elkan dismissed that with a wave. “Later. Right now we’ve got to get out of the palace and make it somewhere safe.” As the rest of the wizards gathered around them, he considered the injured guards, frowning. “What did you do to them?”

Vigorre consulted with Tharanirre. “Dislocated their hips. At least, I think that’s what she’s showing me.”

Borlen nodded. “It will keep them from going for help.” He swiped his forearm across his forehead and pointed at Elkan. “The guard medic knows how to pop them back into their sockets. If we try to heal them they’ll just be on us again.”

Elkan didn’t look happy, but he nodded. He turned away from the injured guards and lowered his voice. “You know the palace best. How do we get out?

Borlen shook his head with a grimace. “We don’t have much choice but to fight our way out the main gate.”

Elkan nodded. “Let’s go.”

They pressed into a tight knot, Elkan and Tobi in the lead, Vigorre and Borlen just behind carrying their familiars, Kevessa with Nina, Josiah, and Sar bringing up the rear. The eagle shifted restlessly on Vigorre’s arm. He cleared his throat. “Maybe Tharanirre can fly ahead and scout for us?”

Elkan glanced back. “It’s probably wiser to keep her close. But you can open a window. In fact, all of you should. Scan in every direction so we have as much warning as possible of what we’ll have to deal with.”

Face hot, Vigorre ducked his head. He stuck out his free hand and stared at his palm.
I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.

Hold still.
A glowing gold dot appeared above his hand. It rapidly expanded to a sphere and cleared to show a corridor that Vigorre supposed must be ahead. Tharanirre hunched her shoulders and glared at the window.
I guess this will do. But I’d rather be flying.

More golden spheres bloomed around them, but before Vigorre could turn to look a cluster of soldiers strode into view over his palm. His heart raced. “Look out! Guards approaching, about twenty, straight ahead.”

Elkan nodded and called a halt. Tobi shifted their window to focus on the guards, and they both studied it intently. Tharanirre let their window fade. Vigorre set his hand on her back and braced for another combat.

As soon as the soldiers came within range, Elkan said, “Now!” Tharanirre pulled energy from Vigorre and sent a strand of light shooting forward. She disabled one guard before his sword was fully drawn, several more as they charged forward. Around them, the other wizards did the same. The whole skirmish was over in less than a minute.