The Warrior's Tale (73 page)

Twenty-Five

The Castle of Iron

I

'm not surf
, what I expected to find at the Palace of the Evocators that night As we approached my nerves were snapping like tighdy strung lyre strings. The palace bulked over us, light glaring through the windows; but it was absent of any other sign of life, save the low, machine-like throbbing of the ground we walked on.

There was
little
cover on that hill and as we leaped over naked ground from rock cluster to tree I began to regret our coming. I'd cast a spell to dull the scent of our auras in case any hunting demons were lurking about, but there was nothing I could do about the bright moonlight menacing overhead. Even when we finally crept into the palace's dense shadow, I felt no relief. The air stank of sulphurous magic and my hackles were stiff, hot pins in my flesh. I wasn't comforted when I saw the big main gate, although closed, was not guarded.

I grew more nervous as we crouched behind a thick clump of rosemary and I probed ahead with my senses for a magical net and found nothing. Our Evocators have always been a secretive and wary lot and I think if I'd have brushed against the expected alarms, I would've turned back right then. Their very absence, however, heightened my suspicion. Even then, I hesitated.

Polillo leaned close to whisper: 'What'U they do if they catch us?'

Not long ago - before Amalric tamed them - the Evocators would've put us to death - most horribly. They'd once falsely accused my brother, Halab, of heresy and slew him; so the Anteros have more reason than most to be wary. But the new breed of Evocators who reign must abide by the same laws as the rest of us. What could they do to the hero of Lycanth, the killer of Archons, besides publicly humiliate her? At least that's what I wanted to think. So my answer to Polillo was a shrug - who knows? Still, the dutiful reasoning of a good

Orissan citizen nearly prevailed. What I ought to do, I thought, is to confront the Magistrates
and
the Evocators tomorrow. I could show them proof things were not as they believed. There was the blood of Ismet and the other murdered Guardswomen for evidence. Some of us had even witnessed the demons who'd killed them. Yes, I thought, this is a fool's errand I'm on.

It was then I saw the panther. She was crouched by the main gate, peering through the bars. She turned her head and looked at me, eyes glowing in a beam of moonlight that had escaped the shadows. I felt a tug, as if she were beckoning. Then she turned back, rose to her feet, and ghosted through the bars to disappear on the other side. From Polillo's lack of reaction, I knew she hadn't seen the big cat. I signalled to her and we slithered across the grounds to the gate. We knelt by it, checking for a guard, but once again we saw no one about. Then I spotted something clinging to one of the bars. Looking closer, I saw it was a tuft of black fur. It had the powerful odour of cat. I plucked it off and nearly tossed it away. But some instinct intervened and I put it in my pocket instead. Then I motioned to Polillo - it was time.

She boosted me to the top of the gate. As I balanced there, she leaped, grabbed the topmost crossbar and swung over to drop on the other side. Marvel at my friend's great strength steeled my confidence; I jumped and she caught me in her arms and set me sofdy down. I grinned at her - just like old times! She buried a laugh, thumped me on the back and together we slipped down the path to the palace.

Off to the side I saw the panther again. She was waiting beneath the arch of a small doorway partly hidden by the thick-columned trunk of a poplar. When I turned towards her she vanished inside. Polillo was as surprised as I was when we came to the arch and found it was nothing more than an empty frame. It was as if the carpenter had built the frame, then became so busy with other things he forgot to mount the door. We waited for a long time to make sure there was no one lurking for us inside. I probed forward with my senses, but found nothing magical to impede us. Polillo unlimbered her axe and I drew my sword. I nodded to her and we entered. As we went inside I had a mad thought - if they do catch us, we can always feign drunkenness. No one ever doubts a soldier when she says liquor made her do it.

We entered a long, dark corridor. Its walls were smooth and blank, made of some kind of black metal. As we cautiously made our way down it and saw the lack of doors or openings on either side, our tension grew, realizing there was no escape but the way we'd come.

The corridor emerged into an immense chamber, lit only by cold moonlight spilling in through the high windows. As one part of me sniffed for danger, another wondered how the roorn could be so dark, if from outside we'd seen light pouring through the windows. Then my head was spinning faster as I saw the chamber was entirely empty -not one bench, not one bit of decoration, not even a fireplace to stave off a winter's chill. The only other egress besides the one we stood in was far across the chamber. It gaped like a single dead eye. We slunk towards it, hugging the dark, metallic walls. As we passed one of the windows, Polillo's hand suddenly gripped my shoulder hard. I stopped, bracing for an attack, or fast retreat, depending on what was the matter. She jabbed a finger at the window. I could see her eyes were wide with amazement, possibly even fear. I realized she wanted me to look outside. I couldn't - it was too high, coming just to Polillo's chin. She made a stirrup with her hands; I stepped into it and she lifted me up.

At first, I didn't know what I was looking at. Then, terror bloomed as I saw what it
wasn
V. The view should've been of Orissa sleeping peacefully under the watchful eye of the hilltop Palace of the Evocators. Instead, I saw a drear landscape. Across a desolate courtyard were tall, black iron gates. Swooping out from the window I was looking through were high black walls that climbed on either side to frighteningly familiar turrets. I nearly gagged as I realized where we were. This was
not
the Palace of the Evocators-it was a faqade, a fake. In fact, we weren't even in Orissa. Instead, we were high on a nightmare mountain - inside the Archon's black iron
castle
.

I dropped to the floor and sagged against the wall. Polillo was staring at me, wondering what was going on. I had no answer; and even if I had, I was too stunned to speak. Then I heard talons scrape and I jolted up to see the demon rushing at us.

Polillo and I leaped apart. He howled at being denied an easy kill. He turned towards me, pivoting his massive toad-like body as if he carried no weight at all. Polillo came at his back, but the demon lashed behind him with one of his huge, furred feet, catching her in the chest. The blow hurled her clear across the chamber where she slammed into a wall and slumped to the floor. But her attack gave me a breath of advantage and I ducked under his taloned blow and slashed at his belly. The blade bit deep and the demon screamed in pain. He leaped back before I could follow through, slashing with his claws at the same time. One talon tip caught my sword with such force that it was ripped from my grasp. He came for me as I scrabbled for my blade. But he moved slowly, blood oozing from the deep wound I'd made. Even so, I was only just scooping up my sword when he came close enough to strike. I was off-balance and there was no chance to dodge. Still, I tried - twisting awkwardly away; knowing I hadn't a hope. Before the blow struck I heard a meaty thud and without even a gasp the demon crashed to the floor. I rose to see Polillo standing over him. Her axe was buried in the beast's skull. She put her foot on his body for leverage and drew it out, then used his fur to wipe the axehead.

She touched her chest where he'd kicked her and winced: Tm going to throtde the next woman who says she's jealous of my tits,' she said. 'All they do is get in the way.'

I laughed wildly, not caring how loud it echoed in the steel chamber. Polillo laughed back and we hugged each other. Then we drew apart.

'I
do
love you, Polillo,' I giggled.

'Bet you say that to all the demon-whacking girls,' she giggled back. The laughter faded.
'He
knows we're here,' I said. 'Good,' Polillo answered, hefting her axe. 'Let's go find the bastard and kill him.'

We walked boldly to the other entranceway, boots echoing loudly against the steel floors. The corridor it opened into was as long and dark as the other, but we whispered fire beads to life and held them high to light the way as we advanced. The corridor twisted in wide curves that carried us downward; and the deeper we went, the heavier came the strange machine-like throbbing. Several times I thought I'd glimpsed the shadow of the big cat moving around a bend. Then my sword hand began to burn and I looked at my palm and saw the twin-headed lion scar was swollen and livid with blood. We were getting close. We turned one more corner and I saw light ahead.

I signalled a halt. In a few moments there would be no time to think. The odds on our side were laughably poor - only sword, axe and muscle against the Archon's magic. And I had no Gamelan beside me with his vast experience of tricks, and trunk of sorcerous powders and vials. In fact, I had no magical implements of any kind. Then I remembered Gamelan saying that Janos Greycloak had disdained such things. He said they only helped you focus your thoughts and energies. Well,
good
for Greycloak, I thought. Good for that back-stabbing, friend-cheating son of a poxed whore. And as I cursed him, and cursed our foul luck, and cursed myself as well for my schoolgirl magical skills, the image of the panther popped into my head. I remembered the fur I'd put in my pocket.

Polillo must've thought I'd gone insane as I grabbed it out and knelt to the floor, muttering to myself as thoughts swirled about in my brain like litter before a windstorm. Then I had it - prayed I had it - and pressed the fur against my scarred palm.

Daughter of darkness -Swift night slayer -Hunt with me, now; Hunt the two-head beast, Who waits in his lair; Hunt his black wizard master, Wherever he may flee!

My palm burned hotter, so hot I almost cried out. I opened my hand and saw the fur and the scar had vanished. But my palm still stung and I reflexively licked it to soothe the pain. In an instant, the pain was gone. I rose, my mind clearer than it's ever been. It was as if I'd drunk from a magical spring of clarity. I started towards the light again, strong and confident.

I hadn't gone half a dozen steps when sorcery smashed into me like a wave lifting out of an uneasy sea. But I held my ground against the buffeting and struck back with all my will. The wave retreated, but I knew it was coming again and in my mind I built a sea wall and this time when it roared down on me again, it burst against that wall. I laughed crazily and turned to urge Polillo to follow me, to rage with me against the Archon.

But she just stood there, her face a mask of pain. She croaked at me: 'Rali, I—' Another wave of pain gripped her, cutting off the rest. As I went to help she suddenly stiffened, rising to her full height. Now, instead of pain, hate mottled her features. She opened her mouth and the Archon's voice burst from her lips: 'Now, you shall die, Antero!'

Polillo swung her axe at me with all her incredible strength. I fell back. The axe whiskered past and clanged into the metal wall. Such was the force of her blow that it left a huge ragged hole in the steel as she dragged her axe back to swing again.

'Polillo, don't!' I screamed, although I knew it wasn't Polillo who was attacking me.

I backflipped as the axe came crashing down again, this time splitting the floor. As I came up, I saw an opening as she raised that mighty weapon. Even in Polillo's hands, an axe is a clumsier weapon than a sword. And I was faster, much faster. I only had to leap inside her guard and run her through. All my training and experience screamed at me to strike. But I could not, would not kill my warrior sister. I'd rather die myself. And I almost did as she swung. I ducked under the axe and scrambled away. Polillo followed me down the corridor, cursing me in the Archon's booming voice, striking at me whenever I was in reach. The metal corridor resounded with the death-dealing music of her axe.

Another opening presented itself and this time I did jump forward, shifting my sword into my other hand. I hammered at her with my fist, putting all the force I could muster into the punch. But Polillo's ribs were like cabled steel and I nearly broke my wrist. She laughed, but it was the Archon's booming laughter. She lifted me by the back of my neck effortlessly, as if I had no substance at all. I struck out again, not at my friend, but at the laughter, at the Archon. I felt bone crack under my knuckles and that mouth - Polillo's lovely mouth - became a bloody maw. She spit blood and broken teeth at me. She shook me like a pig killing a snake and I was helpless against her berserk rage. Then she flung me away and I was sailing through the air, twisting, desperately fighting to land on my feet. But my sword - which I had in a death grip - got in my way and I fell heavily on my knees.

Fear drove me to my feet. I'd landed facing the light at the end of the corridor. I could hear her coming after me so I sprinted forward, running as fast I could. But rage made her faster and I knew she was almost on me. Any second and my back would be split by her axe. Then I was out of the corridor, nearly blinded by bright light. Just ahead, a rail blocked my way. I dropped to the floor and heard Polillo grunt in surprise. Then she was falling over me and I heard her slam against the rail.

My head came up and I heard her scream. This time, it wasn't

Archon's voice, but Polillo's; my Polillo, screaming in fear. She plunged over the railing and I heard her shout: 'Rali!' The shout was cut off. And the only sound I could hear was a great machine, churning, churning, just beyond the rail. I groaned up, limped to it and looked down.