Return of the Sorceress (10 page)

Maddoc hobbled forward and gazed deep into Nearra’s eyes.

“If you are in there, Asvoria, if you work even the simplest of magics, you shall be paralyzed. And then you’ll be mine at last!” The evil wizard chuckled, the sound more like a raspy cough than a laugh.

He turned turned and shuffled toward the door. “Follow me,”
he said without turning back to look at her. Maddoc walked out of the chamber, Oddvar following close on his heels. Nearra hesitated for a moment longer, but realizing she didn’t have any other options, she did as Maddoc commanded.

The wizard led them down a gloom-shrouded corridor. They walked past a number of wooden doors, and Nearra wondered what dangers might lurk behind them.

Before long they came to an open entrance that led to a spiral stairway. They ascended the stone steps and stepped off to walk down another corridor, Maddoc stopped before a door. He made a small gesture and the lock clicked open, and the door swung inward of its own volition. Maddoc then indicated that Nearra should go in first. She didn’t want to, but she
did
want to keep Maddoc in doubt as to whether she or Asvoria was in control, and she knew Asvoria wouldn’t hesitate to go into the room. So Nearra stepped inside, hoping that she wasn’t walking into another trap.

Maddoc and Oddvar came in after her, and then the door swung shut, though it didn’t lock this time.

Nearra looked around. Lining the room were shelves filled with books, scrolls, and stacks of loose vellum. A large fireplace was set into the wall opposite the door, in which a fire was blazing away, though it did little to dispel the room’s chill. In front of the fireplace was a carved wooden and leather chair and a polished mahogany side table. Several feet from the chair stood a full-length wardrobe mirror, the glass surface spiderwebbed with cracks.

But the feature that dominated the room was the large tapestry hanging on the wall above the fireplace. It portrayed a striking woman in a green dress trimmed with red fur. She had long raven-black hair and intense violet eyes. Around her neck hung a medallion shaped like a sun, and at her feet rested a silver sword.

Nearra knew at once that the woman was Asvoria.

“I don’t know what the sorceress used this room for,” Maddoc said. “When I first discovered Cairngorn Keep nearly twenty years ago, the room was empty, except for the chair and that tapestry. It took me more years of research to discover that Asvoria had placed her spirit into the tapestry in a last desperate attempt to escape a group of so-called heroes that had come to the keep to capture her. And it took even longer for me to discover a way to free her spirit from the tapestry and implant it into the body of a living person.” Maddoc looked at Nearra. “In case you’re not following along, that would be you.”

She turned to Maddoc. She knew that by saying what she was going to say next, she would destroy any illusion that Asvoria was in control, but she didn’t care. “In the chamber with the paintings, I had a vision of my family being attacked by a blue dragon. Was it true? Did that really happen? Are they …” She couldn’t bring herself to say
dead.

“Perhaps what you experienced was a vision of the past, or maybe a vision of a future that might come to pass—
if
you don’t cooperate with me.”

She should’ve known better than to ask: Maddoc lied as easily and naturally as he breathed.

“Why did you choose me? Why not use one of your goblin servants … or Oddvar, for that matter?”

The Theiwar looked suddenly startled, as if it had never occurred to him that he could possibly be the subject of one of his master’s magical experiments.

“There were a number of reasons,” Maddoc said. “Most of them having to do with magical factors too esoteric to concern you. But I suppose the main reason was simply that you were close at hand. A keep of this size doesn’t run itself, you know. I maintain a staff of servants, drawn from the peasantry that live in the surrounding area. Few of them wish to work for me voluntarily,
so I’m forced to use various methods of persuasion. Sometimes all it takes is money. Other times my agents in the field, such as Oddvar here, must resort to more physical means. In your case, money was sufficient.”

“My case?”

“You worked as a servant for me, Nearra. Your family was so poor that when Oddvar came to your cottage one day and offered you a bag full of steel coins in exchange for ten years’ service, you jumped at the chance.”

Oddvar grinned. “Your parents were against your coming here, even through your father sold us firewood. But you said something to them … let me think … ah, yes! You said, ‘Maddoc’s money will spend just as good as anyone else’s,’ and you let them keep the steel and accompanied me back to the keep.”

Nearra was stunned. “That means I used to live and work here, that I knew you and Oddvar and … Davyn.”

“I wouldn’t say you
knew
us,” Maddoc said. “You were a servant, after all.”

“Why didn’t Davyn ever tell me?”

“Because he’s a liar. Don’t you see that, girl? He’s been working for me all along. Whose idea was it to come here, eh? Who brought you to Ravenscar?”

Nearra knew that Maddoc was just trying to break down her defenses and destroy whatever hope she had left. Davyn had long ago admitted helping Maddoc and he’d repented his actions. In the year since she’d come to know and care for Davyn, he’d made up for whatever transgressions he’d committed against her a dozen times over.

“It’s most ironic, isn’t it?” Maddoc said. “You first came to Cairngorn Keep only because you wished to help your family. A noble, one might say heroic motive. And now your body is host to one of the wickedest beings ever to plague Solamnia. What’s
the old cliche? No good deed goes unpunished? In your case, I’d say the sentiment fits, wouldn’t you?”

Oddvar chuckled with dark mirth.

Nearra felt a surge of anger. If she could access Asvoria’s magic, she’d blast both of them to cinders on the spot! But she forced herself to remain calm—or at least as calm as she could, given the circumstances.

Maddoc continued. “While I would of course prefer to gain total control of the sorceress, after a year of trying to force the Emergence, I am willing to accept a lesser prize.”

Nearra felt a stirring deep inside her mind and she knew that Maddoc had peaked Asvoria’s interest.

“Go on,” she said.

The wizard pointed to the tapestry. “See the amulet around her neck and the silver sword that lies at her feet? From my research, I’ve learned that the amulet is called the Daystar and the sword is called the Aegis. Both are objects of incredible mystic power. Asvoria will help me obtain them, and once both objects are in my possession, then I shall release her.”

Nearra could sense that Asvoria was intrigued, but the girl didn’t like the sound of Maddoc’s offer. “What do you mean by ‘release’?”

“I shall remove the paralysis spell that I placed upon you. Asvoria will be free to assume complete control of your body.”

Nearra felt a stab of fear at Maddoc’s words. “And then what happens to me?”

The wizard shrugged. “Perhaps you will be but a passenger in your own body, still thinking and feeling but unable to actually do anything. Perhaps it will merely seem as if you go to sleep, and Asvoria will be in command of your body while you slumber. Perhaps you will simply cease to exist. What does it matter, so long as I get the Aegis and the Daystar?”

Nearra felt the spirit of Asvoria begin to rise upward from the depths of her mind, as if the sorceress was a swimmer who had been submerged too long and was desperate to return to the surface for air.

“Do you really think you can be trusted, Maddoc? Why would you be satisfied with only two magical objects when you could have all of Asvoria’s knowledge?”

Nearra sensed the spirit of Asvoria hesitate, and then withdraw once more deep into the mind of her host.

Nearra looked at Maddoc and smiled. “No deal.”

The wizard’s lips tightened and his face reddened with anger. But when he spoke, his voice remained calm. “Very well. We’ll just have to do this the hard way. It shall take me several hours to make the necessary preparations. In the meantime, Oddvar will escort you to quarters where you can rest until I am ready for you.”

Maddoc turned toward the dark dwarf. “You know where to take her. If she shows the slightest sign of resistance, prick her with your knife.”

The Theiwar grinned at her as he drew a dagger from his belt. “Don’t worry, girl. The blade’s not coated with poison this time. It’s smeared with a fast-acting sleeping potion. One nick and you’ll be instantly rendered unconscious.” The dwarf’s eyes gleamed. “Of course, there’s always the chance that my hand might slip and I’ll cut you more deeply than I intended.”

Nearra had to keep herself from shuddering. “I won’t give you any trouble.”

Maddoc opened the door and gestured for Nearra to walk through. She obeyed and Oddvar, holding the dagger tight in his stubby fingers, followed.

But just as Nearra reached the door’s threshold, she detected movement from the corner of her eye. She turned her head and
saw a small brown mouse sitting atop a large book on one of the shelves. The tiny animal seemed to be gazing at her intensely with the most remarkable blue eyes. Their color was so clear and piercing that they almost seemed to glow.

“No trouble, remember?” Oddvar said, and Nearra realized she’d stopped walking to look at the mouse. She turned to the dwarf, nodded, and Oddvar marched her down the corridor to whatever prison awaited her.

When the girl was gone, Maddoc glanced over at the bookshelf where she had been staring before she’d departed. He saw nothing but books and scrolls. But whatever had caught Nearra’s interest didn’t matter now. He had a problem—a big one.

Since he’d removed Asvoria’s spirit from the tapestry that had been its home for centuries and implanted it within Nearra, he’d continued to research spells dealing with spiritual transference. After experimenting on countless animals and combining elements of several different rituals, he believed he had finally developed the spell he needed. But conducting the enchantment would’ve demanded a lot of him when he’d been healthy. Now, suffering from the aftereffects of his familiar’s death, the ritual would take even more out of him. Worse, he hadn’t anticipated needing to recast the paralysis spell upon Nearra, and he feared he wouldn’t have even the strength to conduct the Rite of Emergence. This was why he’d offered to make a deal with Asvoria, but unfortunately, Nearra and the sorceress hadn’t accepted it.

He needed to find a way to restore his strength within the next few hours. And then it came to him. There was one way. It was dangerous and might very well have serious consequences for him. But Maddoc was willing to take any risk to increase his knowledge and power. And if all went as he hoped, after tonight
he’d be the single most powerful wizard in Solamnia—perhaps in all of Krynn!

His cold dark heart momentarily warmed by dreams of power, Maddoc left his study and closed the door behind him. He didn’t see the fly that buzzed out into the hall just before he pushed the door shut, a fly whose multifaceted eyes were a most striking color of blue.

    T
ell me again … why we couldn’t … take the main … road.” Ayanti spoke though gritted teeth as she struggled to maneuver her equine half through a tangle of brush. In the forest, green leaves were just beginning to peek out from their buds, though the undergrowth was already well developed, too well for Ayanti.

Elidor tried not to smile at the centaur’s plight, though it wasn’t easy. Horses—or beings that were half-horse—were simply not designed for woodland travel.

“Maddoc expects us to attempt to rescue Nearra,” he said. “He’s sure to have his agents patrolling the road to his keep.”

Elidor and Ayanti led the others. Elidor so he could watch for traps, and Ayanti because if they came to a section of the woods she couldn’t pass, they’d all have to turn back and find another route more conducive to centaurs. Ayanti had made it so far, but not without much struggling and even more complaining.