Weapon of Fear (39 page)

“This
is how I survived the fight at Fiveway Fountain and the fight with the
blademasters.  I know you’ve heard how Lad’s wife cut my throat.  It wasn’t
fake.  The blademasters did worse.”  She brushed one inked arm with the fingers
of her other hand.  “These are my secret.  This is how I survived.”

“They’re…” 
Dee couldn’t tear his eyes away from the black tracery on her pale flesh, how
the lines moved and blurred.

“I
know.”  Her voice ached with pain.  “I may not be exactly human anymore, but—”

“
What
?” 
He looked up into her anguished eyes.  “No!  You’re…”  How could he say it? 
How could he tell her what he really wanted to?

“What
I am I made myself, Dee, and I’d do it again!”  The pain had transformed to
defiance, her eyes flinty.  “If I hadn’t done it, I’d be dead.”

“You
don’t understand!”  It came out harsher than he’d intended, and her eyes
narrowed.  “That’s not what I
meant
.” 

“What
did
you mean then?”  Mya’s eyes were narrow, and her voice accusative.

I’m
walking on dangerous ground here
. 
She might kill him for it, but Dee couldn’t lie to her. 
Maybe it’s the
truth she needs to hear
.

“They’re…beautiful.”

Mya’s
face flushed, and her lips pressed together hard.  She stared at him for a
moment as if she thought he might be mocking her or lying outright.  He opened
his mouth to explain, but she shook her head, one sharp jerk of negation.

“Turn
around, Dee.”

“I’m
sorry.”  Dee whirled and fixed his eyes on the door.  He wanted to explain what
he meant, but he knew that tone.  He listened to more splashing, then she
brushed past him, dressed in her voluminous robe, her secret hidden once more,
a bundle of dark cloth in her arms.

“Get
some sleep.”  Mya opened the door and slipped through without looking at him. 
“We’ve got a lot to do tomorrow.”

“Yes,
Miss Mya.”  He followed without arguing, without saying what he really wanted
to say.  What else could he do?

“N
othing, sir.”  The guard brushed
his knees of dust and looked chagrinned.  Two of Ithross’ most trusted people
had spent the small hours of the morning going through the prince’s chambers
with a fine toothed comb looking for any sign of a secret passage.  “If there’s
something there, it’s got to be hidden with dwarf magic.”

“Very
well.”  Ithross turned to Arbuckle.  “I’m sorry, milord.”

“There’s
got
to be a passage somewhere, or they travelled using magic and the
palace wards are useless.  Of course, I guess we have to consider what the note
says, and who conjured the wards.”  The prince resumed his pacing, refusing to
sit.  He had also refused to eat and sleep.  This had not been a restful or
productive night.

“We’ll
search again, milord.”

“Yes…please.” 
Arbuckle had only shared the truth of the intruders’ visit with the few he trusted:
Ithross, Tennison, Baris, and his scribe, Verul.  Ithross had been apoplectic
at first, then enraged that someone had invaded the imperial chambers.  The
captain had handpicked a few guards and knights to entrust with the
information.  Most of those were in his sitting room now, while a few others
covertly searched the palace for signs of entry.  Arbuckle paced and obsessed. 
How…how had they gotten in?

Then
something the guard said stopped the prince in his tracks.  “Dwarf magic! 
That’s got to be it.  Dwarves built the palace.  They’ve know every stone! 
Summon
them
and have them search!”

“We’ll
summon the clan elders, milord, and post guards tonight.”

And
I spend another sleepless night…
 
The captain had suggested that he move to another room, but Arbuckle had
refused.  Moving might alert Duveau.

Fight
magic with magic
… 
It was Arbuckle’s only hope if Duveau was truly planning to kill him.  That was
why he’d invited one more person to potentially entrust with the information
he’d received last night.

A
knock at the door halted the prince’s pacing.  He nodded, and a door guard
reached for the latch.

“Master
Keyfur, milord,” the hall guard said.

“Admit
him.”  Arbuckle clenched his hands behind his back and tried to look calm.

“Milord
Prince.”  Keyfur stepped into the room and bowed gracefully, his rainbow-hued
robes brushing the floor.  “You summoned me?”

“I
did.”  Arbuckle’s eyes flicked to the guards manning the door behind Keyfur. 
Their hands rested on their swords.  Should this turn out badly, they were
ready.  The prince was betting his life that they could react fast enough to
save his life if Keyfur started to cast a spell.  “Come in.  Can I offer you
something?”  He waved a hand at a table laden with all manner of food and
beverages.

“Actually,
I have not yet broken my fast, and that blackbrew smells absolutely heavenly. 
Thank you, milord.”  The wizard stepped to the table and poured a cup from the
silver service, adding three cubes of sugar before reaching for a spoon. 
Keyfur seemed perfectly at ease, though his eyes flicked from face to face. 
“Something dire has occurred from the look of your guests’ dour faces, milord. 
How may I be of service?”

“I’ll
be blunt, Master Keyfur.  I’ve received information revealing another plot to
take my life.”  Arbuckle watched the wizard sip his blackbrew.  The cup
remained steady.  The previous two attempts on his life were known to the mage,
so the revelation of a third had evidently come as no surprise.  “I asked you
here because I’m in need of magical protection.”

“I
see.  And why, may I ask, did you not summon Archmage Duveau?”  Keyfur sipped
again and reached for a scone from the silver tray.  His face remained utterly
guileless.  Either he was a very good liar, or knew nothing.

“Because
the conspiracy to end my life reaches deep into the palace.”

The
cup in Keyfur’s hand wavered ever so slightly, and the scone paused halfway to
his mouth.  “But, milord, we interviewed
everyone
.”

“Yes,
I know.  You say that you personally determined the truth of questions put to
Archmage Duveau.”

“I
did.” For the first time since Arbuckle had known Keyfur, the wizard’s amiable
demeanor faltered.  He put the scone down on a porcelain plate and brushed his
fingers on his robe.  “You suspect Archmage
Duveau
?”

“I
find myself in need of people I can trust, and Archmage Duveau is
not
among those people.”

“He…
isn’t
?” 

The
shock on the wizard’s face seemed genuine, but that didn’t mean Arbuckle’s plan
couldn’t still fall apart.  He had no idea how close the two wizards were. 
They seemed very different, Duveau, dour and irascible, Keyfur, flamboyant and
gregarious.  The prince was betting that the two had only a professional
relationship, not a friendship.  He couldn’t remember ever seeing them in the
same room at the same time save for a few state functions attended by the
entire retinue.

There
was also the possibility that this midnight warning was nothing but a plot to
sow discord and suspicion among the Retinue of Wizards, denying him their full
protection, just as the blademasters of Koss Godslayer had been taken from
him.  There was only one fact to counter that theory—Arbuckle was still
breathing.  If his midnight visitor had wanted him dead, he would be.  Why go
to the trouble to sow convoluted plots to weaken his defenses when a dagger in
the dark would have done the deed all too easily?  That made the list of
conspirators in his pocket difficult to refute.

“No,
I’m afraid he is not.”  Arbuckle took a steadying breath, letting it out
slowly.  “I’ve received information that states plainly that the archmage has
been recruited by a conspiracy of nobles and magistrates to end my life.”

“That’s…” 
Keyfur’s cup trembled in his hand until blackbrew slopped over the side.  He
cupped his hand beneath it to catch the dribble, then put the cup down. 
“Pardon me, milord, but this is unprecedented.  I…don’t know what to say.”

“Say
that you’re loyal to both the empire and me, and that you can keep me alive.” 
Arbuckle fixed his gaze upon the wizard, watching for any sign of evasion.

“On
the first two points, milord, let me assure you that I am your loyal servant.” 
Keyfur bowed carefully, glancing sidelong at the stern guards, apparently
cognizant of the position he was in.  “As to the last, I’m unsure if I or any
other wizard in the Imperial Retinue could oppose Archmage Duveau.”

“Why?”

“Because
he is
archmage
, milord.”  Keyfur shrugged as if that explained
everything, but everyone in the room just stared at him blankly.  “The entire
retinue united might be able to stand against him, but individually…”

“I
can’t
trust
the entire retinue, Master Keyfur.  I’m trusting
you
. 
Now tell me why Duveau is so invulnerable.”

“Not
invulnerable, milord, but he has earned his position as archmage.  Duveau is
learned in many spheres of magic, and is more proficient in most than any other
among the retinue, perhaps in the empire.”

“Yes,
but I don’t know what he’s
capable
of.”  Arbuckle pursed his lips.  “Can
he bring the whole palace down on my head, stop my heart with a wave of his
hand?”

“He
could not, milord.  He cannot manipulate dwarf-wrought stonework, and is not
versed in death-magic.  That I
do
know.  He’s also not immune to the
effects of his own magic.”  Keyfur looked around the room as if unsure how much
he should say.

“Please
be frank, Master Keyfur.  I trust everyone in this room with my life.  We need
to know what we’re up against.”

“Very
well.  His greatest prowess is in the manipulation of earth-based elements.” 
He gestured toward the ceiling, the knights, the window.  “Stone, metal, even
glass, which is, after all, nothing but fused sand, he can bend to his will. 
He could easily fend off a sword, but he would have to know the stroke was
coming.  If a rock fell from a parapet and he didn’t see it, its impact would
kill him.”

“Well,
that’s good news,” Sir Calvert said.

“Forgive
me, Sir Knight, but it is
not
good.”  Keyfur gestured at the armor clad
warrior.  “Duveau could easily wad your armor into a ball…with you inside it.” 
He turned back to the prince.  “And do the same with any metal-clad guard or
warrior.”

“Bloody
hells…” Sir Calvert muttered, then nodded apologetically to Arbuckle.  “Pardon,
milord.”

“No,
I want everyone here to speak freely.  Please, Master Keyfur.  What else?”

“Most
of the palace itself is dwarf-wrought, and therefore beyond his skill to
manipulate.  He’s less apt with magic that manipulates the other elements; fire
water, air, life, and death.”

“
Death
is an element?”  Ithross looked aghast.

“It
is, but necromancy has been banned in the Empire of Tsing for centuries,
Captain, and rightly so.  Duveau will not be raising armies of undead to assail
us.  He’s also not as learned as some of us in the more esoteric disciplines of
magic.  I can bend light and create some pretty illusions, for instance, that
he can’t penetrate.  Mistress Ellis is more proficient with runemagic.  However,
none of the retinue would last long in a duel against Duveau, I’m afraid.” 
Keyfur looked around at the crowd.  “He is…formidable.”

“What
might we use against him?”

“As
I said, metal weapons would likely not reach him if he was aware of the
attack.”  Keyfur furrowed his brow as the knights and guards traded worried
glances.  “Fire can certainly burn him.  Bone, wood, ivory, and horn are likely
materials for more useful weapons and armor.”

“The
swordmasters of the far west wear wicker armor, milord,” Ithross said.

“Yes,
and it’s no match for a decent weapon,” Sir Calvert countered with a frown.

“Your
pardon, milord, but if Duveau has been named as an assassin, why not send him
away?”  Keyfur lifted his abandoned cup of blackbrew and downed it at a single
swallow.  “Once outside the palace, even
he
can’t breach its magical
barriers.”

“Even
though he’s the one who put those barriers in place?”

“Yes,
milord.  A door or wall is a barrier, after all, even to the one who built it.”

“Well,
that’s something.”  Arbuckle chewed his lip and resumed pacing.  “In answer to
your question, I have no actual evidence against him or the conspirators save a
scrap of paper from an unknown source.  Though I doubt it, this could be an
elaborate fabrication to discredit me or lower my defenses.  If I have Duveau
or the other conspirators arrested or expelled without charges or evidence,
there would be repercussions.”

“I
see.”  The wizard looked thoughtful.  “And do you know when the attack will
occur?”

“The
note said that he would strike before I’m crowned emperor.”

“That
leaves us little time to plan.”  Keyfur nodded.  “You must wait for him to make
his attempt, then thwart him.”

“Or
find hard evidence of this plot.”

“That’s
not likely, milord.  Duveau is an intelligent man.  If he’s going to strike,
there’ll be no warning.”  The wizard’s eyebrows rose.  “Which begs the question
of how he plans to accomplish the task and escape the palace.  You’re rarely
without company, milord.  There would be witnesses.”

“Well,
I won’t be without guards even when I sleep, I’ll tell you that!”  Arbuckle thought
of his midnight visitors and shuddered. 

“Could
he make it look like an accident, or frame someone else?” Ithross asked.

“That’s
entirely possible.” Keyfur nodded.  “Yes, if it appeared as if someone else
committed the crime, he would remain blameless.”

“But
how do I keep him from killing me if we don’t know when or how he’ll strike?”

“Keep
some guards close who wear no metal, milord, but they must not appear unusual
in any way.  Also, I should remain at your side whenever possible.”  Keyfur
nodded to Ithross.  “I can tell your guard captain what to look for if Duveau
should attempt to strike using a doppelganger or cause a distraction with a
simulacrum.”

“You
mean a
disguise
?” Ithross asked.

“A
magical disguise, yes.  Duveau’s aren’t as good as
mine
, but they are
convincing.”

“But
you can’t stay by my side constantly without tipping our hand that we know
something.”

“Your
pardon, milord, but I can.”  Keyfur smiled and withdrew a tiny crystal from a
pocket.  “With your permission, milord, I’ll demonstrate.”

Arbuckle
tensed, and Ithross stepped between him and the wizard.  At the captain’s hand
signal, several more guards formed around the prince.

“I
want to see this, Captain.”  He had to trust someone.  “Proceed, Master
Keyfur.”