Promise of Wrath (The Hellequin Chronicles Book 6) (6 page)

I turned and kicked Kay’s head, snapping it back with incredible force, but he rolled with a second blow and the floor beneath my feet tore apart, flying up toward me. I activated a shield of air magic, deflecting the barrage of wood and stone, but it gave Kay enough time to put some distance between us.

I followed him, creating a sphere of air, spinning it over and over until it was a blur. The second I was close enough, I drove the sphere toward Kay, who blocked it with a hastily created shield of rock. The sphere hit the rock and exploded, the magic tearing it apart, and threw Kay back toward the far wall. He impacted with a crunch, bringing plaster down with him as he fell to the floor.

But Kay was nothing if not tenacious, and was soon back on his feet as I closed the distance between us. The glyphs on his arms vanished, replaced with ones of darkness, and a tendril of blood magic whipped up toward me, lacing across my chest despite my shield of air, causing me brief but unimaginable pain.

Kay used the opportunity to close the gap, and placed his hand on my chest. The blood magic caused my entire body to feel as if it were on fire. I staggered back, trying to put distance between us, but my body began to weaken. The use of magic had removed the concentration needed to keep the tranquilizer at bay.

I wobbled slightly, and dropped to one knee, using air magic to blast Kay back, hoping to give myself a moment of respite.

“The tranquilizer not quite gone yet, is it?” Kay bragged. “Soon, you’ll be weak, and then I’m going to tear you in half.”

I was down on both knees at this point, trying to concentrate so I could use my necromancy to slow the effects of the tranquilizer and heal my body, but I couldn’t do both in the midst of a battle. And I doubted Kay was going to give me a moment to myself.

He stepped toward me and kicked me in the sternum, knocking me to the floor, causing me to gasp in pain. The bone wasn’t broken, but there’s no pain quite like an impact on your sternum to make you regret your life choices up to that point. My regrets mostly consisted of not killing Kay a thousand times over.

Kay crouched beside me and placed a hand on my chest. “Hurts, doesn’t it?” His blood magic reactivated and pain tore through me once again as he moved his hand across my torso, settling over my broken ribs. His blood magic ensnared me, squeezing across my chest, and my vision began to darken. Kay was going to kill me.
Kay
.

Anger exploded inside of me as the idea of being killed by Kay caused a fury I had rarely felt before. Kay of all people was going to be my murderer. And that just would not stand.

I created a blade of air in my hand and struck out, aware that Kay was nearby, and hoping he wouldn’t see it until it was too late. His scream of pain and the sudden lessening of my own agony told me it had worked, and I watched him stagger back, blood soaking the inside of his trousers.

“I guess I got you,” I said with a painful laugh. I wasn’t certain I could get back to my feet; I wasn’t even certain I could
feel
my feet, but I looked around and discovered that I’d half-fallen into the ruined floor, one arm out of sight in the hole that had formed there.

I might not have been able to get to my feet to fight, but that didn’t mean I was helpless. With my hand out of sight, I created a sphere of lightning, spinning it faster and faster until I knew it would be a blur. The tranquilizer made it difficult to know just how much magic I was pumping into the sphere, but I didn’t care. I threw in as much as my body would take.

Kay’s expression of murderous intent as he walked back toward me was clear to see, and I knew he wanted to kill me up close. He took a look at the lit-up glyphs over my arms, and smiled.

“I don’t think so. I’m not stupid.”

Thunder rolled high above us, and Kay’s expression changed to one of ever-so-slight uncertainty. He glanced up and I took the moment, launching myself up and toward him, unleashing the magic inside the sphere right at him.

At the last second, Kay created a sphere of rock and fire to counter my own. The explosion as the two spheres met was powerful enough to throw both Kay and me away in opposite directions. For Kay, that meant a trip up through the top of the ceiling and part of the roof, tearing the building apart as he went. I was thrown back into a wall close to the patio doors, where I hastily created a shield of air as the entire structure began to collapse.

I quickly increased the air shield’s power as the room collapsed in on me, raining down huge chunks of wood, brick, and mortar. I kept my air magic flowing freely, keeping the tons of brick a few feet above me as the rest of the roof came down all around me. If I removed my magic, I was dead. A few tons of brick while I slipped into unconsciousness, with no way to escape, would probably do the trick.

That didn’t mean I was about to give up. I would fight to the end, and if I could keep the shield up for long enough, hopefully Diane would arrive before I died. I was only a few feet from the door. If I could just get to it, I could be free.

I tried to shuffle forward, but the movement of the shield forced more brick to fall, some of it slamming into my left leg and causing me to yell out.

I don’t know how long I was like that. I don’t know how long I knelt there, covered in brick dust and filth, as the tranquilizer went to work, as my strength ebbed away, but it felt like a long time. Eventually I heard voices, but couldn’t quite make out who was talking. I shouted for help, but only heard a muffled reply.

Suddenly half a dozen golems, the product of a sorcerer using water and earth magics together, crashed through the debris and lifted the rubble above me. My magic vanished, but I didn’t have the strength to crawl out through the new hole they’d made.

“Whoever you brought with you, I thank you,” I told the person I was certain was Diane, who stood just beyond the ruined building.

“No problem,” a man said.

I looked up, horrified as Mordred’s face came into view. He had a folding chair in one hand that he placed beside my head before sitting down.

I tried to throw magic at him, but I was too weak as the tranquilizer took its full effect.

“Don’t try to fight me, Nathan,” Mordred said. “We need to have a good long talk, you and I. And frankly I can think of no better time than when you’re helpless and about to be crushed by a falling building.”

CHAPTER
6

September 1195. City of Acre.

Y
ou want to just tell me the names of everyone involved in the attack on Avalon, or would you prefer I start cutting you first?”

“Ah, Nate, ever the smooth talker,” Mordred said with a grin. “You don’t need to do anything to me. Just listen and maybe you’ll learn something useful.”

“Mordred, I’ve learned a lot from you over the years, mostly about how to betray your friends and murder innocent people. Those are two things you excel at. Oh, and being completely twisted in your head. That’s a talent of yours, too.”

“We will leave you two alone,” Nanshe told me. “Do not kill him. I will not have death committed here.”

“I promise,” I said, biting down on the frustration. The fact that I was so close to ending Mordred’s life meant it took every bit of discipline at my disposal to calm the rage that just being this close to him created.

When we were alone, I turned back to him. “What do you want?”

“Your help.” He spoke with the same confidence that he always showed. But there was no taunting, no need to try and get one over on me or anyone else. It was just a statement of fact.

“No. Not now, not ever.”

“Then you can go on not knowing who is behind this plot. Nanshe knows torture won’t work on me; you cannot force me to tell you anything. All you have to do is aid me, and hope I’m honest.”

“I would spit on your honesty if I thought for even one second you had any.”

Mordred stared at me, and I knew with all certainty that if he weren’t in chains, he’d try to kill me. But I needed his help if we were to figure out who was plotting an attack on Avalon.

“Why did Merlin send you here, I wonder?” Mordred asked. “I mean, I’m sure these fine people could figure this all out on their own. Maybe he doesn’t trust them? That would be interesting, wouldn’t it? Merlin accepting the Mesopotamians into the fold, but not really trusting them: that’s not a good basis for a friendship.”

“And you’d know all about friendship,” I snapped before I could stop myself. I took a deep breath and forced myself to remain calm. “I’m not doing this, Mordred. I’m not getting into an argument with you. It’s what you want, and frankly I can’t be bothered to allow you to make me angry right now. Either tell me what you want or you can rot down here.”

A smirk spread across Mordred’s face, which did little to ease my need to punch it repeatedly. “You’re not much fun anymore.”

I kept my mouth clamped shut.

Eventually he understood I wasn’t going to argue with him. “I need your help,” he said at last. “Despite the fact that I hate you and everything you stand for, I know you. I know you won’t let innocent people get hurt.”

“Since when have you cared about innocent people?”

“I care about this one.” Anger leaked into his voice a little.

“Why?”

“None of your business. Her name is Isabel. She’s currently being held here in Acre, under guard in a house close to the marina. You will find her and help her escape this place. You will do this, and she will come to no harm. Only then will I tell you what I know.”

“Who is she?”

“All you need to know is her name.”

“Actually, no, I need a little more than that. I need to know what she looks like, I need to know what she is, I need to know why she’s under guard, and I definitely need to know why you want her freed. I’m not in the habit of breaking people out of secure areas on the say-so of a madman.”

“She’s twenty-six, human; long, dark hair, olive complexion, green eyes, and her name is Isabel. That’s all you need. Go find her.”

“No.” I turned to leave.

“She’s under guard because she was caught with me. They tell me it’s for her protection. This is despite the fact that she has nothing to do with the plot, nor does she know anything about it. She was here before I arrived; she’s training to be a physician. She was just unlucky that I happened to be there when Nanshe and her guard turned up. I’d already decided to go to the authorities by then, but getting caught sped things up a little.”

“Why do you want her protection removed? What is she to you?”

Mordred was silent for several seconds. “She helped me. Telling those I was
working with that I wouldn’t help them got me a lovely silver stab wound. She found my bleeding body and nursed me, even though she didn’t have to. She had no way of knowing I’m a sorcerer. I want to repay that kindness. And I don’t want her protection removed; I want her out of the city. That’s the only way she can be protected.”

It didn’t sound like the Mordred I knew to repay kindness with anything but pain and suffering, but we needed the information he had. “I’ll have to talk to Nanshe about getting her whereabouts.”

“The guard must not know,” he said. “I don’t want her tracked and hounded. I’ll repeat myself for those who are hard of hearing: I want her out of the city. Take her to Jerusalem or something. France would be a good idea.”

“France? But she lives
here
. I doubt she’s going to want to move that far. I can get her out of the city. I’ll arrange passage north, maybe to Constantinople.”

“Fine, just get it done. And hurry, because if these people carry out whatever they’re going to do, Acre is going to be a city you’re not going to want to be inside of.”

“How can you possibly know that without knowing their plan?”

“When I tell you who’s involved, you’ll realize just how much danger we’re all in.”

“I’ll let you know.”

“Don’t take long,” Mordred called after me as I walked away. “People’s lives are counting on you doing as I ask. And I know how much you care about them.”

I found Nanshe outside of the building talking to Gilgamesh. Both of them turned toward me as I got closer, clearly expecting me to give a report.

“Mordred wants a woman by the name of Isabel removed from the city,” I told them, and I gave all of the details that Mordred had divulged to me.

“I spoke to the woman when she was arrested. We do not believe she’s involved, but we are keeping her guarded for her own protection. Those who Mordred betrayed might want to get to him through her. Siris is with her.”

“Who is Siris?” I asked. All I knew of her was that she had been considered the goddess of beer. Why any group of deities needed one for beer, I’d never really understood, but most of the different pantheons had at least one.

“Ah, you haven’t met,” Gilgamesh said. “We thought it best to have someone there we trusted, just in case it turned out this Isabel was important. Turns out she’s not. Except to Mordred, and no one cares what he finds important.”

Gilgamesh was a great warrior, a smart man, and had been a benevolent king for the most part, but he was also arrogant, with a fiery temper, and unable to see the quality in people he hadn’t personally fought, either beside or against. Everyone else was either unimportant and beneath his concern, or someone he wanted to do battle with. It was one of the many reasons why he wasn’t in charge of the Mesopotamians.

“Gilgamesh, can you ensure the city’s defenses are good enough? If Mordred thinks we’re about to have unwanted visitors—and that would be a good assumption to make—I’d like someone of your caliber checking everything.”

Gilgamesh beamed and walked off without saying a word.

“A vain but brilliant man,” Nanshe said when he was out of earshot. “I just wish he didn’t pick fights to get to know people.”

I remembered the first time I’d met Gilgamesh three centuries earlier. I had bruises on my bruises after that encounter: an encounter I lost. Although to be fair, Gilgamesh never once lorded it over me.

“Something feels wrong about all of this.”

Nanshe regarded me for a moment. “Mordred isn’t usually someone to aid Avalon. Even in a roundabout sort of way. You think he’s involved in something more?”

I nodded. “Maybe this Isabel is all a big distraction. Maybe she’s involved without even knowing it. She could have been regarded as a target for something or other. When a particular person leaves the city, it’s attacked. It’s clutching at straws, but I don’t have a lot of other ideas at the moment.”

“Maybe we should go see this woman—or rather,
you
should.”

“Come with me. I’d like someone else’s take on this, and frankly, anything Mordred is involved in clouds my judgment.”

She agreed and we were soon walking together through the busy Acre streets. “At least you know it clouds you,” she said after a few minutes.

“That doesn’t mean I’m able to stop it. For a long time I just wanted to save my friend; I figured no matter what he did, he could be brought back to us. Then he attacked Arthur, almost killing him. After that, I’m not interested in trying to save Mordred anymore.”

“You want him dead.”

“Yes. He deserves to die for what he’s done. He shouldn’t be able to hurt anyone else. Too many have already died at his hands.”

“He hates you. I’ve never seen anyone hate as much as he does. The merest mention of your name was enough to confirm to me how much he wants you dead. I’ve rarely seen a hate as strong as that. It burns at his soul. It consumes him.”

“You sound conflicted about it.”

“I’m merely wondering where such a hate came from.”

I shrugged. “I wish I knew. We were friends. I was away for a few years, traveling, learning, doing Merlin’s bidding. When I returned, Mordred was being hunted for murder. He was a fugitive, killing innocent people for no reason. He’d changed into an entirely different person from the one I’d known; he was now full of hate and evil. I’d never have thought such a change possible unless I’d seen it myself.”

“It appears he does not like keeping allies, either.”

“I don’t know who supports him. He turns up with different people, years apart, with no reason to it other than to hurt Avalon, me, or Merlin. Sometimes all three. There’s no pattern to it—at least none I can understand. Maybe his addled brain makes more sense of what he does. Somehow I doubt it.”

“I searched Isabel’s home when we found her; interviewed her, too. I don’t believe she’s in a relationship with Mordred: at least no more so than the friendship he claims.”

“You’re certain about that?”

“Hellequin, I have people who work for me who are
very
good at their jobs. And I interviewed her myself, just to be thorough. There’s no sexual relationship there. It’s a dead end.”

We reached the house and I looked up at the three-story white-bricked building while Nanshe walked off and spoke to the two guards at the front door. Both of them walked away a short distance, allowing us entry to the house.

The interior was sparsely decorated, with some seating and a few tables but nothing to suggest that anyone lived here on a permanent basis. There were no personal items, and everything was spotless. Two guards sat on chairs near the rear of the building, playing cards. Both stood to attention when Nanshe walked past.

“We use this building for some of our more . . . important guests,” Nanshe told me. “Sometimes you want to put someone in a place without every guard in the city knowing about it.”

We climbed the stairs and Nanshe unlocked the door at the top, allowing us onto the floor above. It was considerably more comfortable here, with more furniture in the one massive room. A divider sat at one end, behind which I could spot the end of a bed.

A woman stood up from a chair by the window and walked over to us. For a second I thought she might have been Isabel, as she fitted the rather pitiful description of olive skin and dark hair, but her eyes were brown, and any notion about her identity was thrown aside when she embraced Nanshe.

“Hellequin, this is Siris,” Nanshe said, introducing me to the striking woman before me.

“A pleasure,” I said with a slight nod of my head.

“You’re the fabled Hellequin, shadowy hand to Merlin,” Siris said with just a touch of mockery in her voice. There was a power behind her deep-brown eyes that surprised me; it was at odds with the cool, calm exterior she presented.

“I assume you expected me to be taller,” I said with a smile.

Siris laughed. “I was going to say that, but I assume you hear it often.”

“Taller, broader, able to turn into a dragon. I’ve heard a few tales, yes.”

Siris suddenly appeared a lot more interested. “A dragon?”

“I’ve heard it a few times. Also a demon, the devil, and a few others. The stories are always bigger than the truth. No dragons, I’m afraid.”

“Shame. I’ve never seen one.”

“If you two are quite done, Siris, can you tell us where Isabel is?’ Nanshe’s voice held only a hint of reproach.

“She’s on the roof. Don’t worry; she’s unable to fly, so getting off there would be quite the trick. I’ve discovered that people are more likely to talk if you allow them a little freedom. I wanted to know if she knew more than she was letting on.”

The three of us continued up to the roof, where Isabel greeted Siris and Nanshe while watching me with caution.

“This is Hellequin,” Nanshe told her.

As I was introduced to Isabel, I wondered for a moment if maybe there was something more between her and Mordred. Back when we were friends, Mordred had been with several different women, usually more than one at a time, and usually each relationship had burned brightly until it had extinguished itself and he’d moved on.

“Mordred sent me here,” I told her.

“Where is he?” Isabel asked Nanshe, ignoring me completely.

“Safe. He’s a dangerous criminal,” she assured her.

“He was never dangerous to me, just kind.”

“He told me you helped save him after he was attacked.”

Isabel appeared confused for a moment. “Yes, of course,” she said, and I wondered if that was a lie. “He’s my patient, so I would like to see him.”

“That’s not going to happen,” I told her. “Not now, not ever. He’s a murderer and all-round vicious bastard. You’re lucky he didn’t cut you into tiny chunks and feed them to the sharks.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about!” Isabel snapped. “Kindly leave.”