Veilspeaker (Pharim War Book 2) (19 page)

Sharim threw his hands toward Lina.
The images of Ziary vanished as she reached up and grasped at her neck. She
screamed. Maries slashed at Ziary, his blade missing the scion by inches.
Without the illusions, Ziary didn’t stand a chance. Jez raised his blade and
charged at Sharim. He was only a few feet away when Sharim saw him. Sharim
redirected his working, focusing it on Jez, and the throne room vanished.

He was in the middle of a courtyard,
chained to a wooden block. The manacles cut into his wrists and the block left
splinters on his face. He turned his head just enough to see the ax gleaming in
the sun. He screamed as it came down toward his head

“I’ve sealed the circle,” Sharim’s
voice shattered the illusion. “Get us out of here.”

The images of Ziary were back and
Maries was struggling to find the right one. He snarled. “The army.”

“The army will come even if we’re not
here. They can’t stop that now.”

Three Ziarys rushed forward. Maries
tried to block one, but they were all illusions. He grabbed Sharim in one hand
and growled at the images before leaping into the air. He went almost to the
ceiling and crashed through the window bearing the image of Sariel. The images
of Ziary vanished, and Lina let out a long breath before turning her eyes to
the hole.

“What is that thing?”

Villia looked like she was about to
be sick. “It’s a portal to the abyss.”

“We need a rope,” Jez said, “as long as
we can get.”

“Why?” Villia asked.

“So you can pull me out of the abyss when I’m done,”
Jez said as he stepped toward the hole.

“What?” Villia’s voice was almost a shriek.

“We need to get Shamarion out. We don’t stand a chance
against Maries without his help.”

“Jezreel, you can’t go into the abyss.” Villia grabbed
Jez’s shoulder before he could take another step. “Even we can’t go into the
abyss. Not and come out again.”

“Maries came.”

“Maries was summoned into this world,” Villia said.
“The focusing crystal made his form permanent, but I doubt he’d be willing to
come into this world fully. The risk would be too great. He’s still a creature
of the abyss, and when his form is destroyed, he’ll return there.”

“You mean if Shamarion is destroyed there, he’ll
return here?”

“He wasn’t summoned. He was sent. I don’t think this
has ever happened before. I have no idea where his power is. If it’s still in
the Keep of the Hosts, he’s safe. If it’s not...” She let out a breath. “It’s
different if you go by choice. You won’t be able to come back, much less bring
anyone with you.”

“How do we get him back, then?”

Villia glanced at the hole. “I’m not sure we can, not
without a focusing crystal and another greater summoning.”

“We can’t just leave him there. He’s a Shadowguard.”

“The Shadowguard are warriors. They have been lost
before.” The ground rumbled, and Villia gave the hole an uneasy glance. “We
need to get out of here.”

“But it’s only one hole,” Ziary said. “If we stay
here, we can hold it against the army. They can’t possibly come at us more than
two or three at a time.”

“Can’t you feel it? Energy is building in that hole.
As soon as it’s enough, they’ll come through, at least a thousand of them, and
these aren’t mortal beings. They won’t care if their form is destroyed. They
will throw themselves on your sword so that the ones behind them can get a
little closer. We’ll be overwhelmed.”

“But...”

Jez glanced at the hole and took a step toward it.
Maybe if he could summon his wings, he could get back out. Villia touched him
on the shoulder, and he jumped. He hadn’t seen her approach.

“If it was that easy, Shamarion would’ve already done
it.” Jez’s mouth dropped open, but she waved away his concern. “I didn’t read
your mind. You were tensing, like you were ready to jump in. It’s not really a
hole though. It’s a conduit of energy, and it can only function in certain
ways. Sharim was right. There’s nothing we can do to prevent those things from
coming through. We have to do what we can to minimize the damage.”

Jez looked from the hole to Villia. Finally, he
nodded, but he pointed to the king.

“Fine, but we’re taking him with us. He has a lot of
questions to answer.”

Ziary nodded and slung the king over
his shoulder. Between one step and another, he returned to Osmund’s form, and
the four of them rushed out of the throne room.

The keep was in an uproar. The shaking
caused by the opening of the portal had sent everyone into a panic. The guards
were nowhere in sight. Servants and the rest of those who had retreated to
their quarters when the demons had attacked ran toward the exits. There was so
much commotion that no one noticed the limp form of the king on Osmund’s
shoulder. Rather than going through the secret passage in the dungeon, they
just left through the main door. The grounds were unguarded, and a few people
thought to go to the stables to procure horses. Jez and his companions,
however, just stayed with the main body of people. The drawbridge was down, and
they crossed the moat without incident. Once they were on the streets, the
crowd thinned.

“It doesn’t look like the panic has spread to the city
yet,” Jez said.

“It will. I suspect Sharim had some sort of mental
working over the keep so that the people would remain calm. Otherwise the fear
would already be out here. A lot of people saw the demons though, and it’s
difficult to keep something like that hidden, even with mental magic.”

“If there’s that kind of working, why didn’t you
detect it?”

“Sharim is very good,” Villia said. “Better than he
should be at his age. Even instinctual magic can only take one so far.”

“Do you think someone could be controlling him? Or
maybe he’s an afur.”

Villia pursed her lips. “He’s not controlled. It’s not
possible to force someone to complete a ritual. They’re too complicated and the
control offered by mental magic is too clumsy. As for being an afur, it’s
possible. I’ve seen him age, but we’re not bound to one form, and growing up
can be managed, but why would he want to summon demons?”

“Maybe he resents being forced to wander for so long.”

Villia shook her head. “You don’t know what you’re
talking about.”

“All I’m saying is that it’s possible not all afur
regret rebelling.”

Villia sneered. “No, you’re wrong. We were all created
with a purpose, and you can’t imagine what it’s like to have that purpose
denied to you. You who left the Keep of the Hosts a mere dozen years ago and
who will return within a century. We were banished millennia ago and are doomed
to wander until our final judgment, never knowing peace or rest. We all regret
what we did. Some of us have nothing left but the regret.”

Lina stepped between them. “This is all rather
fascinating, but maybe the middle of the street isn’t the best place to discuss
this.”

Jez glanced around. Nobody seemed to be paying
attention to them, but that could easily be an act. He could see the same
thought reflected on Villia’s face, and the afur nodded to Lina.

“You took your father back to the house?”

“I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go.”

Villia nodded. “It will be cramped with all of us in
there, but it’s a start.”

“Can you hide the king?” Jez asked.

Lina eyed Haziel’s limp form. She started to nod but
shook her head instead. “The illusions in the throne room took all I had.”

“I can do it,” Villia said.

She waved a hand, and the king vanished. That drew
startled glances from those around them, but just then, the ground rumbled and
red smoke billowed from the keep. Villia went pale as a wave of sulfuric scent
washed over Jez. His blood went cold.

“Does that mean what I think it means?”

Villia nodded. “The army has started
coming through the hole.”

The room had been tight with only four people in it.
With six, they could barely fit. Varin huddled in a corner, hugging his knees
and shaking back and forth. Lina knelt by his side, trying to comfort him. The
king did nothing on his own. He would walk if led by the hand. If not, he would
just stand still with a blank expression on his face. He alone seemed not to be
bothered by the heat of so many people crammed into such a small room.

“Do we really have to hide in here?” Jez asked. “With
their army arriving, they wouldn’t bother looking for us.”

“We’re the only thing that’s a threat to them,” Villia
said. “If they’re not looking for us, they soon will be.”

“A threat?” Osmund asked. “Last time we outnumbered
them and we had a pharim with us.” He glanced from Jez to Villia. “We had at
least one, and we barely made it out of there alive. What kind of threat could
we possibly be to them?”

Villia gave Osmund a level look before gesturing
toward Jez. “What kind of threat could an untrained boy pose to the demon lord
of nightmares?”

“That was different,” Jez said. “I fought Marrowit in
the dream world. I wasn’t limited by human flesh.”

“What are you talking about?” Lina asked. “That demon
was destroyed by a contingent of pyromages when Mount Carcer was about to
erupt.”

Jez, Osmund, and Villia looked at each other, but no
one said anything. Lina’s expression went from confused to angry. She glared at
Jez. “What’s going on? Who are you?”

Villia put a hand on her shoulder, but she drew away.
“No, there’s more happening here.” Lina turned her gaze to Osmund. “I thought
you were the freak, but neither of you are ordinary mages, are you?”

“Lina.”

Villia’s voice was gentle, and a warmth blossomed in
Jez’s chest. He could feel himself calming, but Lina’s face twisted in a scowl.
“Don’t try that manipulation with me.”

Villia nodded, and when she spoke again, her voice was
back to normal. “Forgive me. You have been thrust into a situation greater than
most people ever experience. You’ve done remarkably well thus far, but perhaps
you should take your father and go. Whatever danger follows us is unlikely to
come after you once we’re separated.” She looked to Jez and Osmund, both of
whom nodded. “I think we can get you out if we work together. You’ll be safe.”

“Until a demon army takes over Ashtar, you mean.”

Villia inclined her head. “It’s possible the army will
still be stopped.”

She pointed at Jez. She was nearly screeching. “You
want me to go, but him to stay? He’s just a peasant who was raised to the
nobility by a traitor baron.”

Jez tense his muscles but calmed at Villia’s look. “He
is a mage, and as you pointed out, he’s no ordinary one.”

She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. Her
skin cleared of the dirt smudges, and her clothes straightened and looked
freshly washed. The scar faded from her face. She opened her eyes, but shook
her head, and her illusions faded. She let out a soft laugh.

“It’s a little silly, isn’t it? Taking comfort in
looking like that.”

Villia smiled. “We find peace where we can.”

She shook her head. “I’m a mage too. What can I do to
help?”

“Nothing,” Osmund said before anyone else could respond.

“I did save your life less than an hour ago.”

Osmund glowered but didn’t say anything. Villia shook
her head. “You’re not exactly a battlemage.”

“Neither is Sharim.”

Villia and Lina looked at each other for a long time
before Villia turned to Jez. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“It’s up to you. Do we bring her with us?”

“Him?” Lina cried out.

“Me?” Jez said at almost the same instant.

“You are...” Villia’s eyes flickered to Lina. “What
you are, and I am what I am. If anyone makes this decision, it makes sense that
it should be you.”

“But that’s not fair. He hates me.”

Villia turned her gaze to Lina. “Perhaps that is more
a statement against you than it is against him.”

“But...”

She lifted her hand and Lina went silent. She turned
to Jez, pleading with her eyes.

“Why do you want to come?”

Her lips quivered, and she looked at her father still
huddled in a corner. She let out a long breath. “They have no right.”

Jez’s mind flashed back to the time he’d been standing
over his father as he withered away under the sleeping sickness. Jez had
managed to bring him out of it, but it had been too late. The greater part of
Bartin’s soul had already been consumed by Marrowit. That event more than
anything else had set him on his path to battle against, and ultimately
destroy, the demon. He gave a slow nod. Osmund gasped, but Villia smiled. She
turned to Lina.

“Welcome to the team.”

“What do we do now?” Osmund asked.

“They’ve probably opened other portals by now.” Villia
said.

“Other portals?” Jez asked.

Villia nodded. “He’ll use them to bring demons here
more quickly. They won’t be nearly as powerful as the main one in the throne
room, but they’ll all be linked to it. We need to find a way to close the main
one.” He glanced at the king. “It would help if we had access to the royal
magic Sharim used in his ritual.”

“Don’t we need the throne for that?” Jez asked.

“Both the throne and the king, yes, but as long as
whatever is affecting the king has a hold over him, we don’t have either. Can
you free him?”

“Maybe,” Jez said as he walked over to the king. “I
saw what Shamarion did to the soldiers, but I need a better understanding of it
before I try it myself.”

Jez put his hand on the king’s forehead and closed his
eyes as he searched for a sign of what was influencing him. It didn’t take him
long to find the web around Haziel. Thousands of strands latched on to both the
king’s mind and his heart, and Jez knew that so long as even one remained, the
king would be under the influence of whoever put the working on him. Any one
strand would be so thin it would be practically impossible to see. It was only
when they were together that he could see them. It was unimaginably complex,
and tearing this away wouldn’t be as simple as taking down the circle around
Shamarion. That time, his efforts had cracked the ceiling, and he couldn’t risk
that here. If he didn’t do it right, he’d leave the king’s mind damaged and
vulnerable to Sharim’s control.