The Alabaster Staff (28 page)

Silence hung in the room.

“Perfectly,” said Massedar. “Kehrsyn,” he said, “thou standest against the shadowy hand of the pharaoh. To thy duties: I have retained thee for the recovery of my own property. Thou shalt apprise me of thy progress. At the least, each eve shalt thou return here and thereafter to bed in a room which I shall have prepared for thee.” He moved closer to her, reached out, and gripped her upper arms in his hands, saying, “Thy future—”

A flare of heat and pain ripped through Kehrsyn’s left arm as his fingers massaged her burn. She cried out and jerked herself out of his hands, dragging the burn through his powerful fingers. Her knees gave way and she crumpled to the floor, her right hand clutching her left arm just below the shoulder, and she scooted away from Massedar.

For a moment, nothing existed but the pain in her arm as it exploded in a surf of fire, but, as her sight returned, she saw Massedar kneel down beside her. She couldn’t read his expression through her teary eyes, but his words carried through the ringing in her ears.

“What is the matter? Speak thou!” His voice seemed at once concerned and demanding.

“They burned me.” Kehrsyn forced the words out evenly. “The back of my arm, right where you …”

She saw Massedar look at his right hand, rub the fingers
together, and smell them. He looked at the back of her left sleeve, then snapped his fingers again.

“Healers!” he ordered, then he leaned closer to Kehrsyn, his voice almost a whisper. “Why didst thou not tell me?”

“It’s just a little burn,” she answered.

“None of the kind,” he replied. “I have but small hopes it is not festered. My best shall attend thee, for I vouchsafe merciful provision on those close unto me. Arise thou,” he said, “and be healed within thy room, that nothing shouldst mar thy smile.”

He gently helped her to her feet and escorted her from the room. Kehrsyn cast a desperate, sidelong glance at her cloak, wrapped around the counterfeit staff and laid under the chair, but Demok stepped forward and picked it up, tucking it under an arm.

Massedar took her to a private room furnished with a comfortable bed, a nightstand with a few drawers and topped by a candle, and a mirror and washbasin. The stand beside the washbasin held a brush and several scented toiletries. These at once thrilled and mortified Kehrsyn, who had never been able to indulge in such luxuries as perfumes and fine soaps and lotions and balms, and who therefore had no idea which might be which, let alone the proper uses and applications.

Demok tossed her cloak on the floor beneath her bed and left the room without another word, leaving her alone with Massedar for a few nervous heartbeats until the healers came, a craggy old man and a half-elf woman with thin, flat hair.

The men discreetly turned their backs while the half-elf helped Kehrsyn out of her jersey. She then wrapped Kehrsyn’s torso in a plush towel for modesty, and the healers inspected the burn.

Massedar sat on the edge of the bed next to Kehrsyn.

“Would that thou mightest abide here after the end of this affair of the staff,” he said, an earnest softness in his
eyes. After a scant breath, he blinked rapidly and turned his head. “What I mean to say,” he said more formally, “is that Wing’s Reach re-quireth someone of thy qualities, someone of great skill at infiltration. Thou couldst be of great service to me, a benefit for which I would reward thee greatly.”

He turned to meet her gaze once more, adding, “Thou needest only to name thy price and it shall be thine, for thou art indeed a priceless treasure. And if thou wouldst help to secure our house against others of thy skill, I shall give to thee all authority within these walls, to command as you saw fit, save only me.”

Kehrsyn shook her head, then tensed as the healers peeled away some dead skin from her burn.

Once the pain had passed, she asked, “Why would you give all that to me? I stole from you, and you’ve only known me, what, two days?”

“That question affirmeth what I have suspected of thee. Thou hast a true and honest heart, one that remaineth innocent and pure despite thy calling.”

“Well, I’m not really a thief. It’s not like that’s something I really want to do. I mean, they made me, you know,” said Kehrsyn.

“These things I know,” he said. “Thou art great of heart and frame, and I sense within thy breast the beating of a heart true to Unther and her people, a heart that opposeth the march of Mulhorand and seeketh to thwart the vainglory of its pharaoh.”

Kehrsyn’s eyes narrowed and she cursed, “Oath breakers. Neither empire was ever to cross the River of Swords. They deserve to—”

Massedar held up a hand to silence her and said, “Prithee, no, I would fain not hear curses from thy lips.”

The half-elf healer glanced over at Massedar, and he nodded, permitting her to interrupt.

“The flesh is badly burnt, my lord. We can use such
abilities as we have. Full healing will take either time or one of thy ointments.”

“She shall suffer not any impairment, for her duties shall be far too important,” he said. “Pour thou out what ointments might be needful.”

The half-elf took Kehrsyn’s arm and turned it so that the burn was easily accessible to her associate. Kehrsyn saw the older healer draw a fine crystal vial from his satchel, finely cut and sealed with a gemlike crystal stopper yet so small that it could hold no more than perhaps a dram in volume. Inside, she saw a pearlescent liquid of bluish hue, thick and milky. She craned her neck to watch as the elder healer unstoppered the vial and raised it to her arm.

He dribbled a few drops out of the vial, aimed so they alighted just at the top edge of her burn. As the thick, gooey drops struck the injured skin, they spread rapidly across the burn like oil on water, coating the entire burn with a faintly luminous layer. The burned flesh began to throb, but it was the healthy sensation of vivacity and youth, a muscle exerting to the fullest.

“I thought it would be an ointment of aloe,” Kehrsyn gasped, “but this is magic … I don’t deserve—”

“Thou deservest not such treatment?” interrupted Massedar. “I protest thou dost. Thou, lovely maiden, art perhaps the most valuable of my house, the sole here who canst my wand recover.”

Kehrsyn looked again at the burn, as best as she could. The damage slowly faded as if it was a knitted shawl unraveling before her eyes. Her arm no longer sent her signals of discomfort and injury. The lack of feeling itself felt great, and the vibrant energy that suffused her muscle made her smile.

“I don’t understand,” she said. “That’s so expensive. Why?”

Massedar took a deep breath, and within his eyes Kehrsyn saw a decision slip into place.

“What hast thy former lord said unto thee in regard to the item that thou hast purloined?”

“Well, no one really knows exactly what it is,” said Kehrsyn, “but they say it’s got … necromancy? And some say it’s the Necromancer’s Staff, made by some powerful wizard a long time ago.”

Massedar sighed in relief and said, “It is good that none truly know, else all would be lost. But thou, thou must know that the import of thy task shall press thee onward to success.”

He kneeled on the floor in front of her, facing her fully and setting her to wonder, ridiculously, if he was about to propose.

“The truth is far more terrible than thou hast been led to believe,” he said. “This work is called the Alabaster Staff. It is an item of legend, tales so old that they are now all but forgotten. The high necromancer Hodkamset didst set to imitate it, in hopes of securing for himself its repute, and created his Staff of the Necromancer, but truly, where his staff is five times as long as this, this work is fifty and five times as powerful.

“The Alabaster Staff is some four thousand years old or more, forged on another world by the ancient gods of our people and imbued with their power. The Alabaster Staff hath within it the authority to command the dead, raising them unto a semblance of life and binding them unto the will of the bearer.

“Make thou not such a face, young mistress. Think thou of Unther! As our army engageth the Mulhorandi army and the enemy is made to fall, those slain shall rise again to serve us, therewith to smite their living brethren and to add again to our ranks. We can drive the Mulhorandi from this ground with their own army!”

Kehrsyn shivered and said, “That sounds horrid, making the dead walk like that.”

Massedar nodded and replied, “Truly, it is a dark summoning, but to see their brethren turn and fight against
them is a just reward for their betrayal of Unther. Breaking a sacred pact that hath stood since the dawn of our civilizations, they crossed the River of Swords, and all that shall befall them shall lie upon their heads.”

“But …” began Kehrsyn.

“The foot of Pharaoh Horustep of Mulhorand standeth upon the neck of Unther,” interrupted Massedar. “Nothing must be spared to save our empire, for if we fail, the entire nation shall be yoked into slavery.”

O
nce Massedar and the healers had left, Kehrsyn sagged against a wall and slumped to the floor with a heavy sigh. She ran her fingers through her hair and tried to figure out what had happened to the simple life she had once led. So much had changed, she could hardly remember it.

Kehrsyn didn’t know what to do in her newfound home. That Massedar had decreed her presence did not change the fact that she was unused to such treatment and felt out of place. She had gone from being an intruder, to being an agent, to being thoroughly searched, to being embraced and healed, all in the space of two days.

She put her shirt back on, tossing her towel on the bed. She pulled her cloak out from under the bed and saw that Demok had placed it there in almost exactly the same position as she had placed it on the floor of the reception room. Such meticulous care struck her as odd, but she was thankful that the false staff was still safely tucked
away in its shroud. She pulled it out and ran her finger around the crack in the handle, feeling the slight roughness of the finish. She couldn’t help but admire Eileph’s craftwork. It must have taken some fine magic to reassemble it so solidly. She tucked it away in her cloak and slid it back under the bed.

Shy and nervous, she left her room and timidly walked to the kitchen and dining area. She asked about meals and ended up with bread and cold, spicy gravy to tide her over until supper. Though the others were polite enough, they looked askance at her when they thought she wasn’t looking. Her sharp ears picked up their whispers, many of which insinuated less than honorable activities between her, Massedar, Ahegi, and others. Her ears burning in shame, she retired to her room to stare out the window at the cold rain and sort out her thoughts.

The city guard swept the streets of the excess refugees, breaking her reverie. They moved sullenly about their task in the numbing downpour, rousting the refugees, who were loath to yield up whatever mean shelter they had found under overhanging eaves.

A while later, Kehrsyn heard the jangle of the bell that announced dinner. She got up and went downstairs. That time, however, her footsteps were more confident, for she had a plan. She would prove her value to Massedar that very evening.

She ate dinner by herself, alone at one end of a long table. She watched the exits of the dining room carefully, keeping an eye peeled for Massedar’s baldheaded advisor. He did make an appearance, bullying his way into the room, demanding a meal to be delivered to his suite, then shoving his way back out again.

As he left, Kehrsyn rose to follow. She saw that he had turned right, toward the foyer at the main entrance, and guessed that he was heading for one of the corner stairwells. She moved to the opposite exit of the dining room
and glided to the foyer herself. Listening carefully, she heard Ahegi’s labored breathing as he climbed the stairs. It seemed that his lifestyle had taken its toll on him over the years.

Quiet as a ring-tailed cat, Kehrsyn sauntered across the foyer and ascended the stairwell, keeping a full revolution of the stairs between her and Ahegi. She heard him puff his way up to the third floor, then, immediately afterward, she heard the rattle of keys.

That meant his suite was right off the stairwell, but she had to know which door was his. She quickly ascended the last revolution of stairs, reaching the third floor just as he entered his rooms. His eyes caught the motion behind him, and he glared at her sudden arrival. She waved with a nervous smile and proceeded to walk down the hall.

“Your room,” he growled behind her, “is one floor below.”

Kehrsyn stopped short.

“Oops,” she said, with what she hoped was a convincing giggle. “I guess I’ve just been up here more often than in the—er, my room. Sorry,” she added with a cheesy grin and scooted back down the stairs.

When she heard the door close, she padded back upstairs and paced off the distance from the door Ahegi used to the adjacent doors to either side. Keeping her ears peeled for any approaching footsteps, she peered under each of the doors. She saw lantern light coming from beneath the door Ahegi had entered but not from either of the adjacent ones.