The Grand Crusade (53 page)

Erlestoke brought the quadnel to his shoulder, cocked, and shot. The weapon’s thunder echoed loudly, but the splash of flame was nothing compared to the magick. The lead ball caught one of the Bloodmasks over her breastbone, knocking her back before she could complete the casting of a spell. The energy that had been gathering in green tendrils around her clawed hands now consumed them, filling the air with greasy smoke.

Dranae shot as well, shattering a Bloodmask’s leg. The shield he’d raised against a fiery torrent collapsed. The golden flame jet hit him solidly and burned away everything between hips and collarbones.

The prince shot again, then drew Crown. He parried a sword thrust by one of the Bloodmask soldiers, then slashed back again, opening the man’s belly. The wounded man reeled back, clutching his midsection, and knocked another soldier askew. Erlestoke lunged, skewering the second soldier. Dranae shot again, snapping the head back on a third soldier, and those spattered with her brains turned and ran.

Erlestoke’s third shot killed one more of the Bloodmask mages, but his contribution to the battle was almost unnecessary. Murosan sorcerers took great pride in their combat abilities, and their Vilwanese brethren were no match for them. As they went through the estate, room by room, they quickly killed those mages who offered resistance, and found several already dead by poison. They’d clearly killed themselves after sending out a message viaarcanslata.

Rumbellow hefted one of the devices. “I can try to learn who was getting the messages, but if the person at the other end smashes hisarcanslata, I’ve got no way of figuring that out.”

“It doesn’t matter. I know where the messages eventually ended up.” Erlestoke toed the mage’s dead body. “And I know what message I want him to get. Dranae, if you wouldn’t mind helping me, I think we can deliver it pretty quickly.”

In the Oriosan Throne Room, Erlestoke and Dranae took a step back and viewed their handiwork. They had beheaded every one of the Bloodmasks and, using tools at the estate, nailed every mask to its owner’s face. Then they

gathered them all up in a sack, and Dranae flew to Meredo. Using passages he knew about, Erlestoke entered the palace unseen.

Once in the throne room they placed the heads on the throne and around it in a circle. In the mouth of each head they placed a gold coin. On each of the coins, King Scrainwood’s profile had been defiled by having the eye gouged out.

The dragonman looked at the prince. “How do you think he will react to this?”

“He’ll be angry and terrified. Nefrai-kesh beheaded my grandmother and left my father holding her head. He’ll relive that moment for each and every one of these. He’ll know we know, and he’ll know we got in here and out again without being seen. It will give him pause.”

“You know Vilwan is involved.”

“I do. First things first, however. Chytrine, then my father, then Vilwan.”

Dranae smiled as they started back to the passage that would take them out of the castle. “You humans are interesting. You use such a barbaric way to send a message that, while direct, is also subtle.”

“This,subtle?” Erlestoke frowned. “How would a dragon have sent this message?”

“Your father’s head would have been the centerpiece.”

“Okay, I see it. Yes, by dragon standards, this would be subtle. Let’s head back to the Midlands, and I’ll work on not being so subtle.” Erlestoke clapped his friend on the back. “After all, we don’t want Chytrine to have difficulty understanding our message to her.”

Kerrigan woke with a start as Resolute and Trawyn entered the cabin arguing in Elvish. It took him a moment or two to realize what they were speaking and to start translating. It didn’t help that Trawyn’s Loquelven tended to be rather highborn and Resolute’s Elvish deliberately swam through the gutters.

Before Kerrigan could figure out what they were fighting about, Resolute switched to the common tongue and pointed at the comatose elf. “Wake him up now.”

Trawyn held a hand out. “Do nothing of the kind, Kerrigan.” Her eye flashed at Resolute. “Look at him. He still has that purplish cast to his skin. His system has not been purged of the dreamwing. He’s as likely to kill us as anything else.”

“Nonsense. If he were that helpless, he’d have been caught and killed by the Aurolani long ago.” The silver-eyed Vorquelf looked at Kerrigan. “Have you seen any sign that he is out of control?”

“No, none. He’s not even been casting magick, as near as I can tell. He’s just been sleeping soundly.”

“Remove your spell and wake him up.”

“Resolute, consider what you are doing.”

“I am, Highness.” The Vorquelf pointed north. “In two hours we’ll be coming into Saslynnae. I want to be able to move fast, get to thecorüesci, get Will, and get out. I’ve waited too long to wake him up. I need him able to get us in quickly, and if he’s addled, I need to know now.”

“He is addicted to dreamwing, Resolute. He might be lucid one moment and utterly insane the next. Suicidal at the worst, useless at best.”

“Better we learn now, Highness. Kerrigan, do it.”

The young mage stood and pulled his sleeves up. He looked down at the elf, then reached his right hand out. He let energy gather, then a golden spark

drifted from his palm as lightly as a lint flower seedpod. It danced in an unseen breeze, then sank and touched the invisible shell of the spell he’d cast. The instant the spark touched the spell, it shot off in skitter-jagging golden lines all over and around the elf. For a heartbeat he vanished from sight, then reappeared but did not move.

Resolute frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.” Kerrigan prepared and cast a simple diagnostic spell. It started at the elf’s feet and worked up, cataloging his well-being. Nothing overmuch seemed wrong, save for traces of something Kerrigan assumed to be dreamwing in his system and some foreign object encysted near a rib.Feels like a stone, maybe an arrowhead. The spell crept up his body uneventfully until it reached the level of his icy blue eyes.

They snapped open, and Kerrigan jolted back. The top of the chest housing Qwc snapped shut. The youth sat abruptly, vaguely aware that in his former state he would have crushed the chest and the Spritha. He grabbed at the foot of the bed to steady himself, then felt another pulse of power and fury slam into him.

Who dares?

The words came without sound, but had an essence to them that Kerrigan quickly dissected. That the interrogator was the elf came as no surprise, but his venerability belied his appearance. He was millennia old—older by far than anyone Kerrigan had ever dealt with. The DragonCrown fragment from Vorquellyn had tainted him. Fury and profound sadness perfused him. The dreamwing did dull him, but his presence sharpened with each heartbeat, and once he attained clarity, he’d be able to reduce Kerrigan’s brain to mush.

Unbidden, the dragonbone armor rose through Kerrigan’s flesh. Bone plates covered him from head to toe, shredding his shirt at shoulders and popping buttons. The laces on one boot snapped and his belt buckle screamed under the pressure. Talons grew on his fingers, gouging wood as he held on tighter.

Kirun?

The elf’s assault faltered for a moment and Kerrigan took the chance to push back. He drove his consciousness into the Elf’s brain and, despite finding himself dwarfed by what he found there, announced himself loudly.Not Kirun, but one of those who would keep his legacy from Chytrine.

Kerrigan realized he was taking a calculated risk there. This elf had known Kirun—otherwise he’d not have recognized the look of the armor. Since he had secured two fragments of the DragonCrown and fought Aurolani forces, the youth assumed he was Chytrine’s enemy.

The elf’s presence grew quiet and the pressure against Kerrigan relented. Then, as if being inside the elf’s mind were not strange enough, something truly odd happened. The elf’s mind turned away and began to have a conversation with another presence. Kerrigan could not decipher anything that was going on between them, but he recognized some sense of what was happening.

He’s conversing with the dragon in the Vorquellyn fragment! Kerrigan had similarly conversed with the dragon associated with the ruby fragment. Kerrigan had not realized who it was he’d spoken with at the time, and the experience had not been wholly pleasant.Imagine having a dragon as your only companion for over a century.

It was not so unpleasant. Her capacity for enduring my torment is infinite. The elf’s mind redirected attention to him.Leave me.

Another push rocked Kerrigan back and the bed’s footboard broke. Kerrigan fell off the chest and onto his back, clutching a piece of wood. The armor did not cushion his impact with the deck, for it had faded, leaving him on the floor with splinters under his fingernails.

Trawyn helped him up, then opened the chest. Qwc still slept, and it worried Kerrigan that he had been doing so much of that. As he knelt and cast a diagnostic spell, the old elf sat up and Resolute pressed the point of Syverce to his throat.

The elf glanced at Resolute and spoke in even tones, though condescension dripped from his words. “Remove the blade, child, or we shall be forced to take it from you.”

“In common. Make it easy for us.”

The old Vorquelf considered for a moment, then nodded. He repeated his warning. “Did you understand us this time?”

Resolute lowered the blade, but did not resheathe it. “I’m sure you have a very interesting story to tell, but I need to know one thing and one thing only. Can you get us into thecorüesciat Saslynnae?”

He looked past Resolute to Trawyn. “You are a Loquelf. Why are you in the company of feral children?”

She sighed heavily. “You would do best to answer Resolute’s question.”

“Resolute?” The old one looked at him again. “That was not your birth name.”

“Understand something, Grandfather, we haven’t much time here.”

Kerrigan rose from his place by the chest and rested a hand on Resolute’s shoulder. “Resolute, give him a chance.” The young mage looked at the old elf. “I’m Kerrigan Reese, late of Vilwan. That is Princess Trawyn. You know she’s a Loquelf. In the chest over there is Qwc. He’s a Spritha.”

“We know, boy. We’ve been in the world since before the Spritha existed.” He threw back the thin blanket they’d used to cover him. “We are known as Magarric.”

He looked up at Resolute and Kerrigan, then at Trawyn. “They are children. Certainly you know our name.”

She frowned for a moment, then her eye widened and she sank to a knee. “My lord, forgive me.”

Resolute snarled. “I don’t care who you are. Can you get us into thecorüesciat Saslynnae?”

“We can.”

The Vorquelf frowned. “Princess Trawyn seems to think your dreamwing addiction makes you unstable and possibly dangerous.”

“We know. That’s the only explanation for the spell this human put on us.” Magarric bowed his head in Kerrigan’s direction. “A dreamwing addict would be dangerous, but we have used the herb enough to make accommodations to it. We knew what we were doing when we bred the plant.”

“Your claiming to have created that blossom does nothing to make me confident of your sanity.”

“That’s a risk you will have to endure if you wish to enter thecorüesci, isn’t it?” The elder elf shrugged. “We will get you in.”

“Are you sure you can?”

“Of course, child, we are very certain.” Magarric smiled as he swung his feet onto the deck. “You see, I created it.”

Kerrigan felt the jolt running through Resolute. The Vorquelf dropped to both knees, then pulled Kerrigan down beside him. Resolute reached out and laid Syverce at Magarric’s feet. “I beg you forgive my rudeness.”

“You are a child, albeit a large one. We wondered how you would fare. Kerrigan tells us you are Chytrine’s enemies.”

“Yes, my lord.” Kerrigan found himself joining Trawyn and Resolute in replying. It was as if there was something about Magarric that prompted a response.

“Why do you wish to enter thecorüesciV

Resolute’s head came up. “My lord, it has been told to us that the one who would destroy Chytrine is waiting for us within thecorüesci”

Kerrigan glanced at Resolute. “He might like more information than that.”

Magarric smiled for a moment, then his eyes unfocused. His body shook once, then he blinked. “Doubtless we do wish the whole of the story. How long have we until we reach Saslynnae?”

“Less than two hours.”

“Very good. Leave us. We must prepare.” He looked down at Syverce. “You wield that blade from Sylquellyn without pain?”

Resolute nodded, then took it up again. “It was given to me by the one we seek.”

“Indeed.” The old Vorquelf smiled again, then his face contorted and his back bowed as if he’d been stabbed. He gasped for air and Kerrigan prepared a spell, but Magarric held a hand up. “No, do not bother. Your magicks cannot cure this pain, Kerrigan. We are linked to Vorquellyn. Its pain is our pain. The closer we get, the more we shall hurt.”

Kerrigan raised his eyebrows. “And stepping on the island?”

“Excruciating, we are certain. It matters not, however.” Magarric sighed slowly. “Even at this distance, we have a sense of the one you seek. To meet him, we would endure anything.”

Kerrigan pulled Qwc’s chest with him as they left the cabin. Trawyn and Resolute both remained even more quiet than usual. As they came up into the wheeldeck, he set Qwc down by the railing, then looked at the two elves. “Who is he?”

Trawyn leaned heavily back against the rail as Resolute paced beyond the wheel and back. The wind tugged at her hair and chilled Kerrigan through the rents in his shirt. She seemed lost in thought, then she nodded.

“Kerrigan, you know there are four elven homelands now, including Vorquellyn. You know because of the presence of Resolute’s sword, which is from a homeland that no longer exists, that there have been others. At one time there was only one homeland. The coming of men and other creatures created pressure, and instead of going to war the nine princes of the then king decided to split the homeland into smaller realms. They took centuries to determine how to do this and they established that to do it, they would createcorüesci. They laid out the boundaries of their realms, created magicks to define them, then invested great power in thecorüesci. They created the homelands and bound themselves to thecorüesci‘?