The Voice of Prophecy (Dual Magics Book 2) (28 page)

Cestus stepped forward again. “He knows. Dinus, two young
children were brought to the Palace this afternoon. We need to be certain where
they are.”

“They didn’t come this way,” Dinus said. “But there are many
of us, here. They are beginning to gather below, in the servants’ quarters. One
of them will know.”

The Palace Guard looked to Cestus and then said, “Two
children, a boy and a girl, about four years old?”

Vatar took a step forward. “Yes.”

The Guard nodded. “They were brought in by the back gate
about an hour ago.”

“Where were they taken?” Vatar asked.

“To High Councilor Gerusa’s apartment. With a full patrol of
Temple Guards. The Guards haven’t come back down.”

Vatar chewed his lip. The odds weren’t as even as they
seemed. He’d only answer for himself, Orleus, and Cestus in a hand-to-hand
fight. Well, and Quetza. Father was more accustomed to fighting with words.
Even if the odds were even, fighting their way into Gerusa’s apartment would be
risky—not just for them. For the children, too. They needed a better plan, but
he couldn’t see what.  He paced across the corridor and back.

Cestus put out a hand to stop him. “I have an idea. There’s
a way we can get into Gerusa’s apartments without her knowledge. Well . . .
probably. But it’ll be better than trying to break down her door, anyway.”

Vatar blinked. “What is it?”

Cestus smiled grimly. “The servants’ door. There’s a network
of servants’ passages hidden in the walls. All of the higher-class apartments
have a discreet inner door for the servants.”

“Won’t she have locked that, too?” Quetza asked.

Orleus snorted as he and Miceus joined the others. “Knowing
Mother, she doesn’t even know where it is. They’re made to be unobtrusive.” He
smirked. “When I was little, I used to use that door to hide from Mother when
she was in a screaming mood. She never found me.”

Cestus nodded. “Exactly. And even if the door is locked, we
won’t be exposed in that corridor while we figure out how to get in. Anyone we
do pass will likely be on
our
side. If she’s got any spies out watching
for you, they won’t be watching the servants’ stair.”

Father nodded. “It’d be in character for Gerusa to set a
trap for us. She wanted you to guess that she had your children or she wouldn’t
have sent the Temple Guard in full uniform. She’ll be expecting something. But
she’d never think of the servants’ door. She never thinks about the servants at
all unless she needs one.”

“That’s it, then,” Vatar said. “Show us the way, Cestus.”

Miceus stepped back. “You go on t-to the s-servants’ d-door.
I’ll go up. M-Mother will let me in. I’ll d-distract her for you. If she’s
shouting at m-me, that will give you a b-better chance. And I’ll t-try to
protect your ch-children.”

Vatar gave him a brief smile. “Thank you. I’d appreciate
that.” Before they started, Vatar turned to Theklan. “You stay here. You’ll be
safe with Dinus. He’s Cestus’s stepfather.”

Theklan shook his head and then winced. “No, I want to
help—”

Orleus pushed him down into one of the chairs lining the
corridor. “You already have. Now it’s time to step aside. That’s that hardest thing
for a young soldier to learn—when to stop so that he doesn’t slow down or
endanger his comrades.” He gave Theklan’s shoulder a brief squeeze. “We’ll be
back for you before long.”

Theklan nodded reluctantly.

Cestus looked over at Dinus. “Keep him safe.”

Dinus nodded. “There are some Healers among us. I’ll see
he’s taken care of. And good luck.” He fished in one of the desk drawers.
“You’ll also need a map of the servant’s entries. They’re even more of a rabbit
warren than the public corridors. And you haven’t used those corridors for a
long time now.”

Cestus led them back to a small staircase that wound up
through the interior of the Palace. They climbed and climbed, past landings where
dim hallways led off into greater darkness, until the stairway stopped at
another such landing.

Cestus consulted the map Dinus had given him. “This way.”

They were forced to go single-file in the cramped hallway,
which zigged and zagged seemingly at random. Eventually they stopped at a
T-intersection where Cestus paused to consult his map again before taking the
right-hand turn and continuing on. Here, at least, there were tiny slits in the
wall, high up, that allowed some light to filter into the corridor. Now, at
regular intervals, the floor slanted down and then back up to the original
level.

Vatar followed close behind Cestus. “This is all
inside
the walls?”

“Mm-hmm,” Cestus answered quietly without pausing. “The
Palace wasn’t always one building. The first Council members—the ones who
portrayed themselves as the Caereans’ Sea Gods—each had their own dwelling on
this island. Each in a different style, of course. Over the centuries, the
buildings all grew together. The first hallway we took from the stairs was
actually between those original buildings. Now we’re walking between the ‘new’
outer wall and the outer wall of one of those ancient houses. When the floor
dips, we’re going
under
one of the windows, so the view isn’t obstructed
for the Talented Fasallon inside. These hallways are usually much busier. Most
of the servants must be downstairs.”

“When the High Councilors and their families start calling
for their dinner and no one comes, things will start to get interesting,”
Father said.

“That was always part of the plan.” A corner was visible up
ahead when Cestus stopped. “This is it.”

Vatar reached for the door handle. He heard
Caution
in his mind. It was hard to argue with that advice, even if it came from the
mysterious voice. He concentrated, using his Far Sight to see what was on the
other side. “It looks like . . . it comes out in a closet?”

“That’s right,” Orleus said. “Can’t get much more
unobtrusive than that.”

Vatar extended his Far Sight a little farther. “No one in
the bedroom. They must be in the room beyond.”

Vatar resisted the urge to look farther now, remembering
that it was possible for someone with Talent to detect the use of Far Sight or
Far Speech. He’d want to know where everyone was when they made their move.
That might change between then and now. Best to wait and look only once. The
bedroom would make a good staging point.

He jiggled the door knob. Locked. He stared at the door.
Silently, he thought,
Help me, Thekila.
He heard her answer,
I will
.
It was more immediate than Far Speech
;
Thekila was already there, in his
mind. The door began to tremble. Another thought seemed to be in his head, too.
The voice.
The hinges,
it said,
the hinges are the weakest point. You
know that.

He did know that and he should have thought of it himself.
There was no point in alerting their foes when the door into the closet crashed
open. This part of their assault was more like a hunt and called for stealth.
The hinges would be much quieter. Vatar shifted his attention to the hinges.
The screws began to work themselves out of the stone that held them.

Very soon, he had the door off its hinges and they all filed
through into the large closet and the bedchamber beyond. They could hear raised
voices from the room beyond.

“I can’t understand what’s keeping Matia. I’ve rung three
times. Miceus, go down and see what’s keeping her.” Gerusa’s voice.

Miceus’s voice answered. “Of c-course, M-Mother. Just l-let
me t-take these l-little ones to Athra. She’ll l-look after them f-for you.
She’ll know what t-to d-do for the l-little g-girl. And Z-Zavar will have my
ch-children t-to play with. It’ll b-be easier f-for you without them here.”

“No. Those two children stay where I can see them,” Gerusa
answered. “They’re going to deliver their father right into my hands. Then,
once he’s been seen to attack a High Councilor within the Palace itself—in my
own chambers—the Council will be forced to withdraw their idiotic protection of
him and his family and friends.”

“B-but he’ll j-just b-be c-coming f-for his ch-children!”
Miceus objected. “W-Won’t the High C-Council t-take that into account?”

“Don’t be more of an idiot than you can help. Of course
there’ll be no sign that the children have ever been here by the time I call in
the other Council members. Selene will see to that.”

Father tapped Vatar’s shoulder and mouthed, “I told you so.”

Vatar nodded. He extended his Far Sight again. The room on
the other side of the bedroom door was furnished with plush couches and chairs.
Gerusa sat in a big chair by the window. Across from her, in an identical
chair, Zavar huddled against Savara’s unconscious form. A single guard loomed
over him. Miceus stood between Gerusa and the twins. He expanded his view to
find five Temple Guards standing near what must be the main door.  Zavar turned
his head, as he always did when he sensed Vatar watching him. Vatar hastily cut
the connection lest the little boy give them away.

“They’re in the main room,” Vatar said. “With Gerusa and six
of the Temple Guard.”

“And the children?” Veleus asked.

“In a chair by the window, on this side of the room. One of
the guards seems to have been detailed to keep an eye on them. The rest are
watching the other door. Our best chance is surprise.” He chewed his lip for a
moment and looked around at his four companions. “If you think you can handle
the guards by the door, I’ll go for the children.”

Orleus nodded. “Good plan.”

Vatar hefted his spear. Orleus, and Quetza drew their
swords. Father picked up a stone statue that sat on a small table by the bed
and held it like a club. Cestus picked up the table for the same purpose.
Orleus reached for the door knob.

Vatar put out his hand, shaking his head. “Surprise,
remember? I have a better idea.” This door was not nearly as sturdy as the one
from the servants’ corridor. Vatar narrowed his eyes and concentrated on the
door. It flew off of its hinges and landed with a thunderous boom against the
far wall.

Vatar rushed through immediately. Orleus and Quetza were on
his heels. Father and Cestus followed.

The door blew across the room, knocking the sergeant, who
had been standing behind his men at the door, back against the far wall. Vatar
turned immediately towards his children. Only his quick movement in that
direction saved him. The sergeant’s sword whistled past his ear and struck the
stone of the wall.

Vatar wheeled around, bringing his spear up to parry the
sergeant’s second blow just in time. Vatar had never practiced fighting with
spear against a sword. In close quarters, the longer reach of the spear was more
of a disadvantage than he’d expected. Even with the shaft shortened, his was a
weapon meant for open spaces. He struggled to adjust the moves Orleus had
taught him so as not to leave himself open to a quick jab from the sergeant’s
shorter, more maneuverable weapon.

The sergeant aimed to cut the shaft of his spear, but Vatar
twisted so that the sword skidded along the spear blade throwing up sparks.
This was the same spear Vatar had made for the tiger hunt, the spear he’d
unknowingly sung magic into. He had no fear that the sergeant’s blade could
damage the spear head.

Amid the sparks, Vatar saw the tiniest crack in the
sergeant’s blade. Striking the stone wall had started a fracture, possibly at a
spot that was already weak. If Vatar could just strike that place hard enough,
the blade would break.

Vatar was driven back by the sergeant’s onslaught. No chance
to concentrate on the weak spot in the sword blade. It was all he could do just
to bring the spear up to parry the next blow. And the next. Sweat from the
exertion dripped down and stung his eyes, blurring his vision. Vatar shook his
head in an attempt to clear the sweat and dank hair from his face. The sergeant
pulled his sword back for a great, two-handed down stroke. Vatar raised the
spear in the nick of time, and the sergeant’s sword shattered as it struck.

The sergeant stepped back quickly, feinting with the jagged,
broken edge as he fumbled for his knife. The distance allowed Vatar to bring
his spear up into a more familiar position. He thrust the spear forward,
straight through his opponent’s heart.

Vatar let out a shaky breath. He had to place a foot on the
sergeant’s chest in order to free his spear. He ignored the clash of swords
behind him. His job was to rescue his children. He turned away from the door,
toward the window where his Far Sight had told him he’d find Zavar and Savara.
His way was blocked.

Between Vatar and his children, Miceus wrestled with the
guard who’d stood over them. At least their struggle also served to block
Gerusa, who tried to dodge around them to reach the children. Miceus would have
been overcome immediately, if not for the guard’s obvious reluctance to hurt
him too badly. Gerusa had no such compunction.

Vatar saw the blade flash in her hand and cried out. “Look out!”

Miceus looked up. Just then, the struggle turned him so that
his back was to his mother. Gerusa plunged the knife down into Miceus’s back.
He grunted in surprise and then slid to the floor. At a gesture from Gerusa,
the surprised guard turned to block Vatar. With a roar of rage, Vatar swung the
spear, opening a gash in the guard’s throat.

He leaped forward to reach his children, but Gerusa was
already there. She held the knife, grotesquely dripping Miceus’s blood, against
Savara’s unresisting throat. “Stop! Or I’ll kill them both.”

Vatar couldn’t gather the power of speech. He wouldn’t have
wasted words on Gerusa at that point anyway. He began to gather Thekila’s power
to fling Gerusa away from his children.
No. That won’t work, Vatar,
Thekila said in his thoughts.
That Power can’t be used against a living
thing.
He paused fractionally. He truly didn’t care about the Tenets at
this moment.
It’s not the Tenets. It won’t work against a living thing. You
must concentrate on the knife. Like I did when Maktaz attacked you.
 Vatar
nodded, even though Thekila was miles away. It felt like she was in the room.

At a glance, the knife was wrested from Gerusa’s hand by an
invisible force and sent flying across the room, crashing into the far wall.
Before she could recover, Vatar cast his shield between her and his children.
Then he did something new. He began pushing the shield away from Zavar and
Savara. Driven by this invisible barrier, Gerusa was forced into the corner and
pinned there. He pulled the ties of the nearest curtain down and tied her
securely before releasing the shield.
Are you all right?
He asked
Thekila, aware of the potential drain of using the shield.

Fine. Don’t worry about me.

Vatar knelt and gathered Zavar into his shoulder, laying a
hand on Savara’s head. Only then did he turn to see what was happening at the
door. Father leaned heavily against the wall, breathing painfully, with Cestus
hovering at his side. Two of the guards were also down—possibly permanently.
Vatar drew on Thekila’s powers to flick the swords out of the hands of the
remaining guards. “Stand where you are. Drop any other weapons. Now.”

The stunned guards complied. Cestus darted in and picked up
the discarded swords and knives. Vatar stood up, leaving Zavar on the chair
next to his twin. “Which one hit her?”

Zavar pointed at one of the disarmed guards. “Him.”

Vatar crossed the room in two strides. “Let’s see how you
like it.” He put all the power of his years of working at the forge behind that
punch. The guardsman went down in a heap. Everyone in the room heard the crunch
of breaking bones. Vatar turned back. He stopped long enough to assure himself
that Miceus was still breathing. Then he strode to his children. He gently
lifted Savara and started towards the door.

“Where are you going?” Orleus asked.

“You can take care of things here. See to Miceus and Father.
I need to get Savara to Boreala as soon as possible.”

“There are other Healers nearer than the farm, Vatar,”
Cestus said.

Vatar shook his head. He didn’t trust anyone but Boreala
right now.

Quetza stepped forward. “I’ll take her. I can get her there
faster than you can.”

Vatar drew a deep breath and nodded. Quetza stepped to the
window, throwing it open. She melted into a white wyvern. Her change seemed to
flow outward from her center until a small dragon with snowy white scales
replaced her. Vatar suppressed the chill seeing this dragon-like creature up
close gave him. He held Savara out and Quetza very gently took the girl in her
taloned paw. Then she turned and leaped out of the window, stroking powerfully
with her leathery wings. She wheeled and flew back towards the hills and
Vatar’s farm.

Vatar watched, holding Zavar close, until he could no longer
see anything but a white dot high up and far away. Then he turned and his chest
tightened with guilt. He’d been so taken up with worry for Savara, he hadn’t
thought of the other injured.

Father sat in the chair recently vacated by the twins,
breathing hard. Cestus hovered at his elbow, head swiveling between Father and
the disarmed guards. Orleus knelt on the floor next to Miceus.

Vatar crossed first to Father. “Are you all right?”

Father waved a hand. “Fine. Not a scratch on me. Just not as
fit as I once was.” He attempted a chuckle and ended up with a painful cough.
When he’d caught his breath, he continued. “I don’t think any of the guards
relished the idea of stabbing a High Councilor. But when I broke that statue
over the head of one of them, his friend punched me in the gut. Knocked all the
air out of me.”