Authors: Blake Charlton
Spellbound (23 page)
Cyrus scanned the sky above the line of watchmen. “There are no lofting kites over the lycanthrope hunt,” he reported, and then he looked back at the temple. “But the pilots that attacked us at the temple are drawing closer.”
From somewhere ahead of him, Nicodemus laughed humorlessly. “She hasn't tried this in a while. Whatever the two of you are, you've got her riled up.” He issued a few commands in the kobolds' language. Three shadowy figures ran away into the dark.
“What's happening?” Francesca asked. “Gotten who riled up?”
“Deirdre,” Nicodemus answered. “She's declared a breach, claiming a lycanthrope snuck over the walls. She's mobilized the watch from other districts to sweep this one for lycanthropes.”
Cyrus spoke. “We can't backtrack without the lofting kites spotting us.”
Nicodemus grunted. “So we'll have to go through the line.”
Francesca started to object. “But that would mean killing everyâ”
Just then a kobold voice called out in the dark.
“Stay here. Don't move,” Nicodemus ordered and then trotted off. A moment later two other darkened figures returned. The line of watchmen was now only twenty yards away. Another trumpet blast sounded somewhere off to the right.
“Fran?” Cyrus whispered.
She reached out and took his hand. “Let's slip away whileâ”
Yet another trumpet blast sounded; this time it was three quick notes, the signal for a lycanthrope sighting. A chorus of distant shouting filled the night.
Cyrus turned and saw two of the lofting kites flying in the direction of the trumpet blast.
“This way and fast,” Nicodemus said somewhere in the darkness.
A rough kobold hand landed on Cyrus's shoulder. They ran parallel to the line of watchmen, away from where the horn blast had come. After maybe fifty yards, the kobolds turned and led them straight for the torchbearers.
Cyrus swallowed and looked for an escape. Perhaps he could dash away? No good. They were flanked on either side by dark figures.
A man appeared before them, standing atop a rubble pile and facing away. He was bare to the waist, tawny skinned, with long black hair tied into a ponytail. A man in a green and white cloak stood not twenty paces away, staring at the strange man. Ahead of them was a break in the line of watchmen.
Cyrus frowned beneath his veil. Farther away another three-note horn blast sounded. Lofting kites circled above the spot. The kobolds led the group forward through the break in the line. “That was Nicodemus?” Cyrus whispered.
“You thought it was the Queen of Spires?” she asked dryly. “I'd have guessed the lack of breasts would have been a giveaway.”
“Fran, I'm just trying to figure out what's happening. Nicodemus has Canic allies among the watchmen who are letting us slip through the line?”
“I think so. He made it sound as if they've done this before. But I'm notâ”
“Did you see that?” Cyrus interrupted.
“See what?”
“I ⦠I'm not certain,” he said. He thought he had seen a flash of blue in the sky above them. But it had appeared and then dropped so quickly it couldn't be a patrolling kite.
“Something's wrong,” Nicodemus said beside them. Cyrus turned to look at him. “Not enough kites are flying to the false alarm our man sounded.”
“What do we do?” Francesca asked.
“Nothing else to do at this point but run forward,” Nicodemus answered.
They left the ash and rubble and entered an alley between rows of houses. “What do you thinkâ” Nicodemus started to say when glass shattered behind them.
Cyrus turned back to see two men holding poles atop which shone the brilliant blue light. “Lucerin lanterns,” Francesca whispered.
Before the lantern bearers stood two men armed with spears and large rectangular shields.
Breaking glass now sounded behind them. Cyrus turned to the other end of the alley and saw two more men with similar poles. A swordsman stood between them, dressed in bright scale armor and hefting a massive Lornish greatsword as if the weapon were as light as a dried palm frond.
No, Cyrus corrected himself, not a swordsman, a swordswoman with long black hair.
The kobolds hissed and leapt into action, cocking their arms back to
hurl missiles of darkness at the brilliant blue-white lantern. But each kobold spell dissolved into nothing before it could reach and destroy the light source.
hurl missiles of darkness at the brilliant blue-white lantern. But each kobold spell dissolved into nothing before it could reach and destroy the light source.
Nicodemus's figure appeared beside Cyrus. While barking orders, he flung his arm out in what seemed to be a backhand throw. Instantly, a blast tore through the night as the alley wall before the swordswoman exploded. Cyrus turned away just before a shockwave slammed into him and knocked him back a step.
When he looked down the alley, he saw the swordswoman had stepped back a few paces. A line of blood ran down the face of a lantern bearer, but neither of the bright blue lights had been damaged.
Nicodemus cocked his arm back as if to throw another spell, but then there came the sound of breaking glass from above. Cyrus looked up to see a green-robed hierophant crouched atop a roof, holding a blue light out on a pole so that it was directly above them.
The lucerin glare washed over Nicodemus and his kobolds, clearing the subtexts off of their skin the way rain might wash away wet paint. For the first time, Cyrus looked at the party.
There were five kobolds, their midnight skin and blond hair more alien in the strange light. All were armed with hatchets. Four of the monsters had formed a protective square around Cyrus, Francesca, and an old wizard with white dreadlocks and blank white eyes. The old man was cradling a blue parrot. A fifth kobold stood beside Nicodemus.
Cyrus pulled up his veil and saw that his breath was again filling his cloth with sentences. The lucerin light had disspelled whatever censoring text Nicodemus had cast on his mind.
Nicodemus spoke to his own party. “No one starts slashing until I say.” He turned to face the woman carrying the greatsword. “Deirdre will want to talk for as long as she can slip the demon's control so we can get ready. Magistra DeVega, can I ask for your help?”
“You can ask,” she said with her usual calmness, “but the clerics haven't developed a cure for death by idiotic leadership.”
Nicodemus ignored this. “It's time to prove you're no demon worshiper. When the sharp objects start flying, destroy the lucerin lanterns, starting with the one above us. Don't shatter it or a rain of lucerin will cover our skins and censor us.”
“As you so delicately pointed out earlier, I've no prose style for wartexts.”
“Magister Shannon can write the appropriate spells,” Nicodemus said calmly, “but he hasn't the strength to cast them.”
“I'll do what I can,” she muttered.
“Hierophant,” Nicodemus said to Cyrus, “see what you can do to help.”
Cyrus was about to point out that Nicodemus had disspelled all the text in his robes when the other man cupped his hands to his mouth and called, “According to Avel's ancient laws, I demand parlay.”
The woman in scale armor with the giant sword called back, “Parlay is reserved for combatants at war, not for monsters and outlaws.”
Francesca whispered to Cyrus, “That's Deirdre, the one I told you about.”
Nicodemus called back. “The ancient Kobold Realm of the Pinnacle Mountains is reborn. We speak for its tribes who are at war with your master.”
The old wizard, the one whom Nicodemus had named Shannon, murmured to Francesca, “Don't worry, Magistra; she'll talk. She wants to give us time to spellwrite. Now, look at this text in my right arm.”
Deirdre called back. “The serene Canonist of Avel recognizes only the six human kingdoms.”
“I am human,” Nicodemus called back. “And I seek to preserve the peace. The city's ancient law gives me the right to parlay. Will your canonist deny her city's own law?”
Cyrus frowned at this exchange. It seemed scripted, as if they had previously performed this act. Perhaps they had.
Deirdre began to tremble. For a moment, it seemed as if she would fall forward. But then she stood up straight and handed her greatsword to the soldier bearing the lucerin lantern next to her.
The man grunted when he took the weapon; he had to sink its point into the mud to keep from dropping it.
“We parlay,” Deirdre called out. “Send out your captain.”
Nicodemus stepped a few paces forward and waited for her.
As Deirdre approached, she stumbled as if drunk. “Hide her!” Deirdre whispered harshly as she drew near. She brought the back of her hand to her brow, covering her eyes. “Hide her! I can't keep her image from Typhon. I can'tâ”
“Cyrus, stand between us and the cleric,” Nicodemus commanded.
“Whatever happens, don't let Deirdre see her.”
Cyrus stepped in front of Francesca and drew a few sentences from his veil and into his shoulders. By rewriting them to long and stiff paragraphs, he turned his robe into a screen.
“You can look at me now, Deirdre,” Nicodemus said in a softer tone.
She didn't move.
“Deirdre,” Nicodemus half-whispered.
As the woman lowered her hand, Cyrus saw that she was beautifulâdark olive skin that made her wide green eyes even more striking. She looked vaguely related to Nicodemus.
“Nico,” Deirdre said. “Every time I see you, I expect the wide-eyed apprentice I knew in Starhaven. So strange that you've become ⦔ She gestured to his bare chest and the kobolds.
“No longer game-piece Nicodemus.”
“Something sad about that,” she said. “But at least we haven't killed you yet.”
“This time you might. Really, my friend, I'd give better odds to a peasant attacking a Lornish paladin with a toothpick.”
“You said that last time.” She quirked a half smile. “When you filled the sanctuary with that wretched tarlike darkness that slowed everyone down.”
“And well I should have; you punched a broken chair leg through my left arm and knocked me off a five-story building.”
She sniffed. “You're lucky that's all I did. That sticky darkness ruined my hair for days.” She paused. “It is good to see that Shannon is still alive. I thought we had murdered him when we caught you in that Canic warehouse.”
Cyrus found himself leaning closer, trying to better hear everything they said.
“How did you know to catch us in this alley?” Nicodemus asked.
Deirdre shivered. “After we found you with the rebellious militia, we figured a tree-worshiping watchman was letting you slip through our lycanthrope lines. So after forming this company, I placed these men just behind the only company with Canics.”
Nicodemus grunted. “Is there any way you could be a shade dumber?”
“Was just about to ask you to be a shade smarter.”
“If we somehow escape, I promise we'll recover the emerald and free you. I was so close today, before the Walker came. But why did you send me Franâ”
“Don't say her name,” Deirdre interrupted with a sudden twitch. She covered her face and looked away. “Don't say her name or let me see her. Typhon is suspicious again. He looked, not very deeply, into my mind. But it's changed things; he is more aware of my mind now. If I see her or hear her name, it will be harder to hide her memory from Typhon.”
“I will keep her hidden,” Nicodemus said quickly. “What can you tell me?”
“Almost nothing or Typhon will see it in my mind. But I can tell you this: there are two Astrophell wizards, agents of your half sister, in the city. I'm not sure why.”
He nodded. “We've avoided their kind before.”
“This is different. They came straight into the sanctuary to treat with the canonist. They were ⦠aggressive. I'm not sure why but Typhon has
refused to kill them. He's ⦠excited about one of them, the woman. I think she's an avatar. Likely her deity belongs to the Alliance of the Divine Heretics.”
refused to kill them. He's ⦠excited about one of them, the woman. I think she's an avatar. Likely her deity belongs to the Alliance of the Divine Heretics.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I can't think of another reason why Typhon should not immediately eliminate her. I suspect he wants to capture her or imprison her the way he did Boann and Cala. Whatever the case, she poses a great threat to you and the ⦔ She flinched. “The one I should not see.”
Nicodemus nodded.
“But I do have one small triumph; I learned what the Silent Blight is.” She quickly explained that Typhon was using the emerald to inhibit Language Prime's ability to misspell. When Nicodemus asked for more detail, she shook her head. “That's all I know, Nico ⦠but regarding ⦠the woman ⦔ She paused as her head jerked.
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