Sworn To Secrecy: Courtlight #4 (11 page)

Ciardis and Lillian walked over slowly to find everyone standing grimly around the fireplace and Inga’s unconscious form. Kane sat on the ground nearby. He had a battle-axe at the ready and was bruised and bloody but not broken. At some point in the battle he’d been hit by something. His right eye was swollen shut with red and purple bruising.

“What?” said Ciardis, “Did something happen to Inga?”  She looked anxiously over at Kane, but his mouth was set in a grim line and he didn’t speak.

She knelt next to the frost giant. Tracing her fingertips on the blue skin, she felt the rigid tension of the frost giant.

“Her skin’s such an odd color.”

Kane said, “It’s not right. It’s more purple than blue.”

“What does it mean?”

“Nothing good,” he replied.

“What else do you notice?” asked Lillian from behind her.

“No heat radiates from her skin,” answered Ciardis, “It’s like feeling a corpse.”

Her heart sped up in fear. Quickly she felt for her pulse.

“She has a pulse. Her heart still beats. But it’s slow...too slow,” she said. “What is going on?”

Turning to Vana Ciardis said, “When you commanded her to sleep it was just a normal slumber, right? To rejuvenate her?”

Vana said, “It was...and it wasn’t. Sleep commands react differently to dark magic. This enchantment on her might have fused with the spell.”

“You mean it made it worse?” Ciardis said.

Vana leaned over to open her mage sight and study Inga’s aura.

Reluctantly she said, “I’m afraid so. She’s gotten worse. Much worse.”

Without commenting further Vana dropped to her knees, put both hands on Inga’s head and called up larger amounts of her magic. They watched silently as Vana pushed more of her gifts into Inga. Ciardis watched Vana through her mage sight. It wasn’t the same as spiraling with her into Inga’s mind. She’d done that only once before with Vana, in the Ameles Forest, as she fought the Shadow Mage’s hold in Barren’s mind. Vana had made it clear she wouldn’t tolerate Ciardis following her magically a second time.

Caemon said sharply, “Nothing’s happening.”

Ciardis said. “Wait for it.”

They all watched, tense, as Vana’s magic pushed against the dark purple barrier of Inga’s mind, time and again with no solution. Finally Vana emerged from her trance.

“Not something you can fix?” said Thanar in a dry tone.

“No,” said Vana, “Not like this. I just tried to wake her and I couldn’t even get past her damn mind shields.”

“She’s trying to protect herself,” said Kane. His eyes were hollow as he waited near his lover’s head.

“What does the mottled purple across her body mean?” asked Ciardis.

“It means she’s in distress...dying, maybe,” said Kane heavily. His tone held no hope.

“That can’t be,” said Ciardis, trembling.

She looked up and around. “By the gods’ own, where’s Thomas?”

Kane said. “He woke some time ago and rushed out. I couldn’t stop him.”

Caemon’s head snapped up. Then he rushed out of the room. Minutes later, Thomas came forward with muffled protests with an angry Caemon right behind him.

“I was just trying to take shelter,” complained Thomas, “Like everyone else. No need to be rough.”

He stopped protesting when he saw everyone gathered around the still form of his victim.

“Oh,” he said.

When he made it to them Thomas couldn’t take his eyes off Inga.

“You have to undo what you have done,” demanded Ciardis.

“I-I can’t,” whispered Thomas.

“Why not?” Ciardis said.

“Well, for one, mind entrapment isn’t
meant
to be undone,” he said, “You push someone’s emotions to the breaking point, confuse their minds and change who they are. And secondly, you all did a number on her. Whoever’s magic spiraled into her, only made her worse on
top
of what I did.”

That was not what she wanted to hear.

Ciardis moved with a speed that belayed her weakened state. “I am
done
with losing friends,
done
with watching everyone around me die
—you
will fix this.”

For a moment Thomas stared straight into her eyes. Darkness appeared in his eyes. She thought that she saw his pupils become orange slits. But it was gone in a flash and she was left to wonder what she had seen.

“I can’t,” he said, swallowing heavily. “I wish I could. Truly, I do. If I had known what I know now, I wouldn’t have taken this job...no matter how those shadow people threatened me. But it’s not in a mind mage’s ability to undo what they’ve done. It either wears off or it doesn’t.”

The knife in her hand trembled against his neck. She lowered it slowly and he dropped to his knees in relief.

“Then what do we do?” whispered Ciardis.

“We wait,” said Vana. “She’ll either overcome the deeper paralysis or she won’t.”

Thanar added, “Right now her conscious is fighting for control of her mind. If she loses, I believe she’ll die. Which is why the purple of her skin is signaling distress. She’s fighting for her very existence.”

“You’re saying that all we can do to support her is stand here.” Ciardis felt helpless and furious. Inga had saved her life countless times. She wouldn’t let the frost giant who’d survived a mine blast and a trek through the frozen artic die before of a feeble mage’s inept attempt to silence her.

Caemon put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. Instead of shrugging his hand off, she leaned back into the support of his arm.

“No,” said Kane as he stumbled to his feet. “It’s not.”

“What then do you suggest?” Lillian said, her voice sharp and focused. “If anything can be done, then we will do it.”

Everyone nodded their assent. Even Thomas.

“There was something Inga once told me,” Kane said, his voice low as he looked down upon his love fighting for her life. “That frost giants can commune together. They can share their strength and share their energies. It’s how they fight so well in battle. Not just as a physical unit, but as a force of shared power. The others will be able to share with her and fight to help her retake her mind.”

“So you’re saying that we need to get her back to the frost giant camp,” said Ciardis.

“Yes,” said Kane.

“Then let’s go!” said Ciardis.

“No,” said Lillian and Caemon at the same time.

Ciardis turned to them with fury on her face. “She’s dying.”

“We know that,” said Caemon. His tone was patient. “But we came here for a reason and Inga knew that.”

Before Ciardis could protest Kane spoke up. “He’s right. You need to continue with your mission. You need to warn the court of what is coming. Nothing can stop that, and you must not let anything stand in your way. I can escort Inga to her sisters.”

“And my nephew will get you as far as the northern mountains,” said Lord Steadfast in assurance.

Kane nodded his head in thanks. “Then it’s settled. We’ll be on the move within the hour.”

Ciardis knew it was for the best. Inga needed to go, Kane had to stay with Inga to protect her, and she needed to stay in Sandrin for her original mission. She ached to go with them. But she knew that it was better to stay and to fight this battle.

A few minutes later, Lillian said, “Now that that’s settled, perhaps we should all get some rest.”

A mumble of agreement followed. Ciardis wondered with unease where Raisa had disappeared to.

“What about Raisa?”

Thanar said, “It might take minutes or hours for her to complete the turn back. Depends on the dragon and most don’t share that information publicly.”

“Right, so?” Ciardis said.

“She’ll be fine,” said Caemon with a yawn, “She has teeth big enough to spear a human if someone messes with her.”

Ciardis said with a patience she didn’t feel. “I wasn’t worried about
her
safety
,
I was worried about
ours.
We need to know why they came after us tonight and how she knew they were coming. Not to mention if anyone or anything else will be coming tonight.”

Thanar grimaced.

Lillian spoke. “You’re right.” Her tone held unflattering surprise.

“Thank you mother.”

“But there’s no predicting if or when she’ll come back,” said Vana.

Ciardis said, “I know. At the least we can have someone wait for her. A servant maybe. Then they can wake the others.”

“Not a servant,” said Lillian, “We need someone skilled in defense in case of another attack. A mage would be even better. It should be one of us.”

“We should set up a watch then. Everyone takes a shift, so that we all can get some rest. We’ll keep an eye out for her and trouble that way,” said Caemon

“Agreed,” said Thanar.

Ciardis nodded.

Then Thanar added, “Everyone sleeps in the parlor.”

As one Lillian, Vana, Ciardis, and Thomas turned to look across the hallway at the destroyed parlor with cushion stuffing still floating in the air and chairs like kindling strewn across the floor.

They looked back at Thanar with a range of expressions on their faces.

He quickly amended his statement.

“Everyone sleeps in their chambers with their door open so they can hear each other call out,” he said.

“That sounds much better,” said Vana in a voice like sweet poison.

Thanar grimaced and turned his eyes away with a grumbled, “I’ll take first watch. Lillian you’re second.”

As they left the library and walked up the stairs, a hollow knock rang out from the massive front door. They all turned and stared at the entrance. A maid scurried from behind the curved grand staircase, where the entrance to the servant’s quarters lay, dodged a pile of nasty looking nail-spiked wood, and proceeded to open the door.

She spoke to the gentleman outside quietly and then shut the door. Turning around, she addressed the haggard group gathered on the stairs.

“Master Steadfast,” she said in a timid voice. “Two men from the magistrate’s court await outside.”

Lord Steadfast frowned and climbed down the stairs, weaving around Ciardis and Caemon, and Vana, who stood with a sharp knife in each hand and an expression that said she was ready to disembowel someone.

“It’s less than three hours to dawn,” he murmured. “What could possibly be so important at this hour?”

“I didn’t even know the magistrate’s minions worked this late,” said Lillian in a sharp voice from where she stood at the base of the stairs.

“Yes.” Thanar frowned. “Be careful, Lord Steadfast. It might be a trap.”

The maid waited in the parlor hall for his instructions.

The lord of the manor visibly straightened his waistcoat. He gave his order to the maid. “Open the door.”

The maid curtsied and pulled it open wide. When the two men standing on the doorstep looked inside they saw the lord chamberlain standing in the hall foyer with a group of blooded and bedraggled individuals standing a few feet behind him. They took off their caps and smoothly bowed to their host.

“What can I do for you gentlemen on this late night? Or early morning, depending on your preference.”

The men got the hint. They hastily rose and stated their business.

“We’re sorry for the late hour, your lordship. We’re here as wranglers on behalf of the magistrate’s court. Lady Lillian Weathervane is to be confined to the house immediately.”

The second man licked his lips and handed over the sealed scroll he carried in his hands. The lord chamberlain said nothing. He merely took the scroll, unrolled it, and read it line-by-line.

“It’s signed and sealed with the personal seal of the high magistrate, Lady Weathervane,” he said reluctantly, “I fear that this is a legitimate order, although quite unusual to be delivered at so late an hour.”

The men shuffled.

Lillian swept up the parlor hall as elegantly as if the floor wasn’t covered in nails, wood, stone, and assorted odds and ends from the destroyed chambers adjacent to the hallway. She silently took the scroll from the lord chamberlain. After a minute she let it snap closed.

“What were the specifications of the house confinement as told to you?” she asked.

“We’ve been given a tracking bracelet. It’s a second-tier model that will notify the courts not only of your whereabouts but will also render you unconscious and/or immobile if you so much as step foot outside of this manor,” said one man.

“What exactly do you mean by the ‘manor’?” Ciardis called out.

“The physical building, your ladyship,” he said. “Even the grounds are off limits.”

That was what she had been afraid of. They weren’t joking around.

“And how exactly, then, am I supposed to get to my trial a few days hence?” asked Lillian.

“There’ll be someone here to escort you on the morning,” said the second man.

“It seems we don’t have much of a choice,” said the lord chamberlain reluctantly as he adjusted his spectacles. “It was signed, sealed, and approved.”

“Very well,” Lady Lillian said. “Let’s get this over with.”

She turned and sat down on the only piece of unbroken furniture in the hallway—a spare butler’s stool.

Hiking up her dress, she displayed a bare ankle. The glare she leveled at the men said she was just as likely to kick them in the chin as let them attach the bracelet to her ankle.

The two men looked at each other and then back at the lord chamberlain. He smirked.

For once, he wasn’t on the receiving of the Lady Weathervane’s ire.

T
he next morning dawned cool and peaceful. Or, well, as peaceful as it could be when the parlor had been completely obliterated, the dining room was no longer recognizable, and the library was a warzone of fluttering paper, broken shelves, and disarrayed furniture. Ciardis could hear the bustle of the servants in the hallway and their not so subtle chatter about the destruction and havoc that had been wreaked on their home. The conversations made her uneasy. She had no doubt that the emperor was aware that she and her family were guests of Steadfast Manor, but it wouldn’t do for the entire city to know about the state of their affairs. Gossiping servants would spread that news faster than wildfire.