The Gossamer Plain (28 page)

The creature jerked a single fist forward and smacked it hard into Vhok’s face. The cambion grunted in pain as he recoiled from the punch. His head bounced hard against the door, sending stabbing pain through his skull and sparks crackling through his vision.

Amak lashed out with his foot, driving the heel of it into Zasian’s chest. The priest staggered backward, almost losing his balance. Rather than pursuing them, the efreeti faded from view.

“Zasian!” the half-fiend croaked, dizzy. He fumbled for his blade. “He’s escaping! “Vhok shouted.

Burnblood didn’t seem to want to work properly, and the cambion slid to the floor as his balance left him. Settling on his backside, Vhok cursed his complacency. He knew the magic the efreeti was employing all too well; he and Zasian had used it to gain access to the tower and surprise the creature. The efreeti was turning the tables on them.

Insubstantial, his physical body a roiling cloud of vapor, Amak settled to the floor like a puddle and slid underneath the door. Vhok reached for his wand as the gaseous figure slipped away bit by bit. The half-fiend leveled the magical device in the direction of their quarry and grunted the command word. Four sparks darted from the tip and crackled as they snapped into the misty form. The attack didn’t have a noticeable effect, but Vhok knew that such magical darts could hurt even vaporous creatures.

He readied the wand to fire off more missiles, bur the last of the efreeti’s form slipped beneath the door and escaped.

“Damn it to the Nine Hells!” Vhok swore. He slumped against the wall and closed his eyes to try to get the chamber to stop spinning.

“Here,” Zasian said, stepping over to the cambion. “A little healing. Sorry I wasn’t faster,” he added. He placed his hands upon Vhok’s head and said a prayer.

Vhok felt the soothing magic flow into him and dissolve the pain pounding behind his eyes. When Zasian finished the ritual, Vhok waved the priest’s apology away. “We both let down our guard. He’ll pay,” the half-fiend promised, rising to his feet. “But we’ve got to catch up to him, first.”

Zasian grabbed the handle of the door and yanked hard. “Definitely locked,” he said.

“Fortunately,” the cambion said, “I have just the magic to solve this little problem.” He muttered an arcane word, and the bolt in the lock clicked.

The Banite pulled on the handle and the door swung open easily. The duo braced themselves for an attack, but none came.

As Zasian swung the door wider, they could see a massive, smoke-and flame-filled warehouse beyond. The doorway led onto a rocky platform near the ceiling of a vast, open space. Vhok realized that the room before them was cut into the mountain, beneath the tower. Instead of brass construction, everything was glowing, popping stone. Fumaroles along the sides of the chamber vented hissing, foul-smelling gases. Jets of fire spewed from cracks and holes like the magical flames from a wizard’s hands. The entire warehouse chamber shimmered from the undulating heat and rising smoke.

A caravan of great bronze-colored wagons filled most of the floor of the warehouse. Wide and flat, the wagons held stacked

molds filled with still-cooling glass items. Vhok realized the efreet would not unpack the molds until the wagons reached their destination, in order to minimize breakage. Large beasts of burden, vaguely similar to blazing rothe’, were hitched to the wagons. It appeared as though the caravan would be departing soon.

“There,” Zasian said, pointing.

Vhok peered in the direction the priest indicated and spotted a wispy vapor moving against the updrafts in the room. It was headed toward a congregation of efreet who had gathered near a pair of huge bronze doors at the front of the chamber. They seemed to be in the midst of a jovial discussion. They loomed over the handful of manacled azer working at their feet, but one stood a head above the rest.

The cloud of wispy white swirled close and transformed. Vhok recognized Amak the moment he materialized. The efreeti bowed low to his imposing counterpart and began animatedly talking and pointing toward the door where Vhok and Zasian stood.

The larger efreeti, whom Vhok suspected was Hafiz the overseer, looked up and spotted the two interlopers. Anger contorted his expression. The cambion saw him reach for the massive falchion tucked into his sash as the others around him did the same. The overseer pointed and gave harsh commands, and the rest of the efreet spread out, moving toward the duo. A few remained behind, cracking whips at the azer to keep the slaves working.

On impulse, Vhok raised his arm and gave a friendly wave. Then he turned to Zasian. “Let’s go meet him,” he said. “Win him over. That’s why we’re here, right?”

The priest gave Vhok a bemused smile, mildly surprised at the suggestion. “All right,” he said at last. “It just might work.”

Vhok slipped Burnblood into its sheath and considered

how best to reach the floor of the warehouse. A narrow set of steep steps cut into the natural stone wall descended toward the ground level. The staircase and the wall next to it cooked the air with their heat and Are.

“Meet you at the bottom,” the cambion said, and leaped over the end of the rocky platform. He channeled his innate magic, floating down to the floor at a casual pace. When he settled his feet on the ground, he strolled toward the efreet, who were stalking toward him menacingly.

Hafiz led the pack. Bare-chested, he looked fierce and angry. He had adorned himself with brass jewelry, necklaces and earrings, and a set of bracers on his thick, muscular wrists. The horns jutting from his furrowed, demonic forehead were slightly lighter in color than his deep red skin, as were the tusks protruding from his mouth. He did not look in a mood to parley, but Vhok maintained his air of calm and casual friendliness.

“Greetings, O exalted Hafiz!” he called out, waving again. “My companion and I”—and the cambion jerked a thumb over his shoulder toward Zasian, who had taken the stairs—”come before you today as weary travelers seeking your aid. I pray we can offer you some mutual benefit in exchange, hmm?”

Hafiz, taken aback slightly by Vhok’s disarming smile and words, drew up a few paces from the cambion. He turned his falchion point down and leaned against the pommel as he studied the half-fiend. The other efreet fanned out to form a semicircle around Vhok. Zasian joined his companion and offered a bow before the overseer.

“Who sent you here?” Hafiz demanded, his voice even deeper and more rumbling than Amak’s had been.

“No one,” Vhok said. “Well, that’s not entirely true. A foolish azer clan lord showed us where this magnificent mine was, and asked us to rid it of your presence, but we thought

better of such nonsense and came instead to pay homage and negotiate some assistance.”

At the mention of the azer, Hafiz bristled. A deep growl issued from him and his eyes glittered. The other efreet reacted similarly. “You are pawns of the azer?” the overseer said. “They think they can send two puny outlanders to slay us? That is rich!” The efreeti laughed, a thunderous, echoing sound. He leaned back, guffawing heartily.

Vhok maintained his smile, but he seethed at such disrespect. Puny, indeed, he thought.

When Hafiz regained his composure, Vhok continued. “Our thoughts exactly,” he said. “Obviously, we offer you notice of their presence in the mountains overlooking this mine. If you wish to capture them, that is your concern. We, however, must reach the City of Brass as quickly as possible, and thought perhaps we might offer ourselves as guards for your next caravan heading to that august city.”

Hafiz eyed the cambion with a smirk. “You wish to go to the City of Brass?” he said. “How excellent. I have just promised my brother a new shipment of exotic slaves for his amusement.” To the other efreet gathered around, he said, “Seize them.”

Aliisza wanted to scream. Just die already! she thought. Choke, or cut your own head off, or drown in your soup kettle. Whatever you do, get out of my head!

But the old woman didn’t react. She took another hack at the log, trying in vain to split it. Another feeble attempt, and the log skittered away again. Aliisza tried to turn her back on the scene. She could still feel it going on. The elderly man, standing in his soldier’s uniform, bow slung across his

back. She felt him watching the woman, the tears welling in his eyes.

She hated them both.

She felt his pain.

The alu forced the image to fade. Instead of the garden at night, though, she found herself inside the tailor’s shop. The girl with the apron appeared in the back doorway. Master Velsin stared at her in anger and sent her to the private room, where she would spend the day half-naked in front of lascivious men who ogled her and pawed at her body and worse.

No! Not this again, Aliisza groaned. Enough!

The alu jerked her sword free and tried to slice the girl’s head from her neck. The blade passed right through the image. The girl never reacted. She slowly, inexorably made her way into the dim room and began to disrobe. Aliisza tried to hack at the girl, the dresses, the lecherous Yrudis Gregan. The scene never changed, never wavered.

Aliisza flung her sword away and forced the image to fade.

She saw no garden, only the temple of Ilmater. A young woman, face beaming, prayed to her new god, thumbs pink and fresh. Aliisza summoned a magical ball of flame. She tried to blast the girl, the temple, scorch it and burn it to the ground.

No one reacted. The temple remained intact.

The alu yanked a dagger from her boot. She stared at the blade, feeling her heart pound. She would put it into her own eyes. They couldn’t make her see the visions if she had no sight. Anything to make it stop. She held the pointed end up, stared at the very tip.

With a rush of resolve, she rammed the dagger into her own skull.

White light blazed, and pain. So much pain. She screamed,

yanked the dagger away. She clutched at her ruined eye, trying to hold the hot dampness in place. The pain made her dizzy. She sank down to her knees, sick to her stomach.

The other one, she told herself. Finish it.

Still clutching the dagger, she felt for the tip, placed it upon the closed lid of her remaining orb. The pain made her hand tremble. She didn’t think she could do it.

Before she could think about it, she shoved the dagger home.

The world spun and went dark in a haze of pain.

Aliisza came to awareness. The sun warmed her face, but the air was cool. The alu heard the sound of two children playing. The streets of Sundabar bustled with life on the far side of the garden wall. Her eyes were closed, but she could see the brightness of daylight through the lids.

She brought a single hand up to her face. Afraid, she touched one eyelid. It was intact. She turned away from the sun and let her eyes flutter open.

She could see. The memory of the terrible pain remained with her.

Damn you, Tauran, she cried, thankful and angry all at once. I can’t live this anymore. Please! Help me!

She hated herself for being so weak. It wasn’t just the visions. She might have been able to watch them all day long if they were merely visions. It was the sorrow. She felt what her ghost tormentors felt. She knew their suffering. The anguish seeped into her, made her hurt. She couldn’t block out the hurt.

The girl with the apron appeared, spoke to the children. Aliisza didn’t even hear the words. The sadness radiating from their father, standing in the corner of the little garden, was drowning the alu. Numbly, she followed the young woman. She felt the girl’s worry, felt her concern for her siblings.

And for her unborn baby.

There isn’t enough food, the girl thought, and Aliisza could hear her. The rent is overdue. Sadil needs new shoes, and Kaiga, a cloak. How can I take care of this baby? Master Velsin will be angry that I’m late, but it was so hard to arise and dress. I need to eat, but the children need it more.

Stop it, Aliisza pleaded. Stop telling me this.

Oh, an apple, the girl thought, slowing by the barrel of fruit. Just one. I could take it—he wouldn’t see.

Yes, Aliisza silently shouted. Take it! Eat it! Take care of your baby!

No, the girl thought. I shouldn’t. It’s not right.

Fool, Aliisza scolded. Serve yourself first. The merchant will not know the difference.

How could I raise my child to be truthful and honest if I cannot even follow that advice myself? the girl thought. No, she decided firmly.

That last thought hit Aliisza hard. How can I look my own child in the face, if I ever get to see him? she wondered. What would I tell him of myself? What could he care?

I’ll beg Master Velsin for a few extra coppers, the girl mentally continued, ignoring Aliisza’s revelation. Just a couple, to help with the food. I’ll even…

The last thought from the girl came to Aliisza as an image, and it made her cringe. She was willing to debase and humiliate herself, let the cretin touch her, for the sake of her younger siblings and her unborn baby.

To the hells with that, Aliisza thought. Enough.

The alu raced ahead to the tailor. She entered the back room and found the man sitting at his work table, laying out fabric. The stink of his lecherousness roiled off him. She found him disgusting. She wanted to kill him.

You worm, she thought. You’re too low to seek out the

willing pleasure of a harlot? You have to prey on this girl? What did she do to you?

To Aliisza’s utter amazement, the man was looking at her. He seemed surprised to see her standing there.

“Who are you?” he asked. “What are you?”

Aliisza couldn’t speak. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t happening. Was it?

“Coward,” she said. “I ought to slide this blade through your gut right now, let you dangle upon it and bleed out. It would take several days, you know. And I’ve got time.”

The man blanched. “I don’t know you,” he stammered, standing and backing away. “Tell me what you want. Coins? They’re in the strongbox. T-take them. Please. But don’t hurt me.

Delighted, Aliisza crossed the floor and stood directly opposite the man, facing him across his work table. “Never mind who I am,” she said. “All you need to remember is that I exist, and I know where you live.”