Wielder of Tiren (The Raven Chronicles Book 3) (12 page)

Chapter Twenty-Six

L
iam ran back through the castle, dodging servants. Mom was right. He had to protect Hala.

              His mind raced faster than his feet. It made so much sense now. His father’s murder, Sera going missing, Grandfather summoning Mom. Kial. All of it. For the first time since he picked up that strange piece of ore and began to fashion Hala’s dagger, it all made sense.

              It was as if he’d been staring at some gigantic chessboard, with his family as the pieces. Only the faces weren’t always the same. Some he knew, others he’d heard names
of
but never met. And the final moves were taking place. He could only hope that he’d be ready to do what he had to so that his Mom could take that last step.

              When Krilln told him he had a part to play, he didn’t understand. Now, he did. He had to protect Hala from Senyan, at whatever cost.

              Servants dashed about in a flurry of activity. The order to abandon the city had been made last night. Liam was surprised so many people still remained
. Then again, he always traveled light. Never understood the concept of needing sixteen shirts when three would do.

              A sudden flood of people streamed from a hallway, all with fear on their face. A single battle cry pierced the air. Hala’s voice. Panicked, he began to shove aside those in front of him.

              Rounding the corner, he lost his footing and slid into the wall. Looking around, he saw the streak of blood his boots had left. The corpse of a soldier lay in a spreading pool, lifeless eyes staring at him. Sounds of fighting farther down the hall brought him back to his senses. Grabbing the sword from the dead man’s grip, he rose and ran toward the battle.

              One more corner and he found it. Hugh stood, three men around him. A door slammed shut on the other side of the fight.

              “He took Hala. Go!” Hugh screamed at him, then took a swipe at one of his foes.

              Liam didn’t hesitate. Skirting them, he ran toward the door. Throwing it open, he saw Hala struggling against Curtis. Her one free hand clung to the doorframe, keeping him from dragging
her out of the room.

              “Let her go.” Liam kept his voice calm.

              Curtis turned. A sneer on his face. “Or what? You’ll kill me? Don’t make me laugh.” He stood in the doorway, his hand tight around Hala’s arm.

              “I’m going to kill you no matter what. Hala, are you okay?”

              She nodded, the red braid swaying. “Yes. Father?”

              “Holding his own.”

              Curtis jerked Hala toward him, putting her between the two of them. “Just leave. You can’t rescue her. You’re a boy pretending to be a man.”

              Something stirred within Liam’s soul. An energy he recognized was waking up. And she was not happy, needed to be back with one she chose.

              “Hala, Tiren’s close. Do you feel her?”

              A tight smile came across her face. “Yes, I do.”

              “When it’s time, call her.” Liam kept his focus on Curtis.

              “Enough of this chit-chat, boy.” Curtis twisted Hala’s arm behind her back, causing her to bend over in pain. “She’s mine, not yours. If you stay, I will kill you.”

              “You will try,”
he replied
, crouching into
a fighting stance.

              Hala moved fast. Her hand reached out, and the dagger flew from Curtis’ boot and into her hand. She slashed at the arm holding her, rolling out of reach when he released her with a yell and clutched at the wound.

              “Go. Help your father. I’ve got this.”

              She dared a glance at him, “Are you sure?”

              Liam refused to take his eyes off of his target. “I’m tough. I can take him.”

              The two began to circle around the room, dodging pieces of upturned furniture.
Curtiss mocked, “You
can take me? Who do you think you are?”

              Liam stayed on the balls of his feet, his sword point low. His focus trained on the center of his opponent’s chest. “I am Liam. My mother is Arwenna. And I will make you pay for what you and your son did to her.”

              Curtis lunged at him, and Liam dodged, turning away from the sword. He sliced at his back as he passed. Curtis screamed in pain but remained on his feet.

              “And your father? Are you sure he’s who you were told he was?”

              The words washed over Liam. “My father was Joss, murdered by Senyan. That’s who he was.”

              Liam dove in for an attack, the blades meeting a loud clash. His opponent grimaced on the other side of the swords. “Are you certain of that? My son had an obsession with your mother. Even managed to fulfil some of his more base desires where it came to her. There’s no doubt you’re good with a blade. Could be from him.”

              Liam shoved Curtis away, striving to keep his head in the fight. “I am a trained warrior. Or did you think my time with Clan Weasel was simply for a blacksmith
apprenticeship?”

              Curtis moved in again, his blade narrowly missing Liam’s torso. He could see the older man tiring. “My name is Liam,” he chanted as he began a fresh flurry of attacks. “My mother is Arwenna, the Daughter of Hauk.” He hammered away at Curtis, sweeping his legs out from under him. “I will end the terror you and that thing you called a son brought to my family. This is my task.” He growled at his opponent, his voice as cold as the steel in his hands. “Yours is to die.”

              Kicking the other man’s sword out of reach, he watched him rise to his knees. Curtis knew he was defeated. His face was ruddy and his chest heaved from
exertion.

              Liam grasped him by his hair, forcing him to look up at him. “My father was Joss, a Son of Lexi. And you don’t deserve the death I give you.”

              With every ounce of strength he still had, he drove his blade through his foe’s torso until the tip hit the floor on the other side and embedded itself into the wood.

              Picking up the other sword, he went to help Hala and Hugh.

* * * * *

Sera sat in the wooden chair, her mind racing. They had to get out
of here. Before
Curtis came back, ideally. If not, she’d have to do things her mind shied away from.

              Absently, she scratched her head. Her fingers found a hairpin hiding near the scalp, buried in the raven black mass. “Kial,” she whispered as she pulled it free.

              His amazed look mirrored the one she knew she wore. She dashed toward the door, her fingers frantically working to open the pin up.

              “Do you think it’ll work?” Kial asked.

              She didn’t look at him. Instead, she knelt in front of her cell door. “I do. Mom and Dad used to make us practice picking locks. Never understood why, but they said it was a lost skill that would come in handy later in life.” She broke the pin in half. Biting her lower lip, she eased the first sharp end into the lock. “Hush, now. I need to hear the tumblers.”

              She took her time, listening. Her focus stayed on the lock. Sweat trickled down her neck. After what seemed like an eternity, she heard a click. The door moved slightly inward. She was free!

              Darting out, she knelt in front of Kial’s cage. “Sera, just go. Find your mother, tell her Curtis has the dagger.”

              “No. Not without you. If Senyan knows he has it, you’re dead. I’m not leaving you here to be slaughtered.” She eased the first pin into the lock. “Just watch the other door,” she commanded as she got to work.

              Coming at it from this side, and the knowledge of the configuration of the other cell’s lock, made this one go faster. She rose as the door swung open and Kial stepped out. Without thought, she threw herself into his arms and kissed him.

              Breaking away at last, she took his hand. “Let’s get out of here,” she said with a smile. Together, they moved toward the door at the end of the passage.

              Kial held a finger to his lips, and Sera stopped. She flattened herself against the wall as he dared peek through the iron bars that crossed the small window in the door. He looked back at her, mouthing “It’s
clear” before gingerly raising the lever to open the door.

              She followed him through the opening and scanned the area as he shut it behind them. The open space was bare of anything but a table and two chairs. And those were overturned as if someone sitting at them left in a hurry. Two tunnels ran in opposite directions.

              “Now where?” she whispered. For the life of her, she couldn’t remember all the passageways they took when they were brought down here.

              “Left, I think.” Kial pointed to one of the tunnels. “I remember us moving to the right just before they tossed us into the cells.”

              Sera went to gather her skirts and then stopped. “Hold on. I’ve got to fix this.” She pulled the skirt up higher and grasped a piece of fabric that’d torn away from the bottom. With a jerk, she kept ripping it away, removing the bottom quarter of her dress. “Now I won’t trip or have those getting in my way,” she remarked as she tossed the fragment away.

              “Think it’s a good idea to leave it here?” Kial asked.

              She nodded. “I’m not carrying it, and it’ll let the others know we were here at some point at least.” Looking back at Kial, she whispered, “Let’s get out of here.”

              Without another word, they disappeared down the tunnel.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

T
hey rode in silence. Thick pillars of black smoke drifted toward the sky above Tanisal. The burning had begun.

“Ramberti’s given the order,” Arwenna said. “The only innocent people left will be looters. Those that hope to gain off the haste of others.”

She heard Y’Dürkie shift in her saddle. “They are not innocent, Arvenna. They are unlawful thieves. Let them burn vith the city.” She paused, “Do you think that ve vill be able to find Sera and Kial vithout much trouble?”

              Arwenna nodded once, guiding her horse through the remains of the city wall. She turned her horse away from the main road leading to the castle. “Yes, I do. It’s going to be easier to find them than Liam, Hugh, or Hala. Unless Senyan’s managed to capture them as well. Think about it, Y’Dürkie. Where was the Corrupted hiding the last time we came here?”

              “You believe he vould seek solace from the Templars of Silas again? I thought the Order vas purged.”

              “At one time, it was. That was almost twenty years ago. Curtis found a new stronghold, yes. But he’s been here for a few weeks now. The Chapterhouse here was abandoned. None of Silas’ true followers would return to the site. It’s familiar to Senyan and Curtis both. Even with his opulent quarters in the palace, Senyan would want someplace he could hide. And few would enter.”

              “Makink it a perfect place to hide someone. The cells vere vell constructed, they vould hold many. It is a sound plan.”

              They rode in silence, weaving around various bits of furniture and broken pottery that must’ve fallen off of wagons. “I’m glad the populace took Ramberti’s warning to heart. I wouldn’t want this place full of people when Nannan arrives.”

              Y’Dürkie sighed. “I agree. I know innocent people die in vars. That does not mean I like it.” She paused. “Do you think Hugh and the other two vould think to look at the Chapterhouse?”

              “Hugh might, if you told him that story. Or Liam, since Joss shared so much with him. If they’re not there when we find Sera and Kial, we go looking at the palace. I somehow doubt they’re on a ship waiting for us.”

              “Because you believe ve vill find Senyan vith them.” She stated it as fact.

              “He needs Kial at hand to kill him. He won’t want to run the risk of him leaving. And Sera will be there. If we find one, we find the other two.”

              Arwenna brought her horse to a stop. The iron gate swung idly in a light breeze. The chain that once barred any from entering hung broken in pieces from the bars. Dismounting, she removed the bridle from the horse. “Set them free, Y’Dürkie. If we come out of this, our escape will be to the sea. I’d rather give them the chance to flee as well.”

              Once the horses were on their way, she turned to the buildings in front of her. That the fight would happen here felt right. It needed to end where it really began. When Bohrs murdered her and Y’Dürkie. Where Senyan stopped fighting the whispers of Corse and gave himself over to him fully. Where she tried to kill Corse for the first time.

              A flurry of movement across one of the top patios drew her eye. A flash of brown and green as three figures ran just out of sight. She tapped Y’Dürkie on the chest, and pointed to the spot. The steely hiss of her sword leaving its’ sheath was the only sound they made as they darted for the staircase leading up.

              Near the top, Arwenna stopped. Placing a finger to her lips, she strained to pick up the sound she’d heard a moment ago. Footsteps, moving
fast, headed their
way. The small landing they stood on had a single door leading off of it. They flattened themselves on each side and waited. The door swung open toward her, obstructing her view. A surprised squeal from a woman, followed by “Thank the Gods!” Pushing the door shut, she saw Sera hugging Y’Dürkie.

              “Sera?” she called, darting to her daughter.

              Sera turned, “Mom!” she cried, flinging herself into Arwenna’s arms.

              “Thank the Gods,” she whispered, relief flooding through her as she held Sera close. Pulling her away, she asked, “Are you okay? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

              Sera wiped at a few tears escaping from her eyes. “No, we’re fine.” Arwenna realized that Kial stood just to her left. “I found a hairpin in my hair and picked the locks.” Sera laughed a little. “And here I always doubted you and Dad when you said it would come in handy one day.”

              Arwenna drew Sera in close again, unable to let go quite that fast. When at last she did, she looked at both of them. “Go to the docks, find a way to signal the Cygnet. Ramberti said he’d make sure Captain Wolfgang remained to get us out. If you find Liam, Hala, or Hugh on the way there, take them with you.”

              “We can’t leave yet. You need Hala’s dagger. We know where it is.”

              She looked at Kial. “It’s not with Senyan, or you’d be dead.”

              “Curtis has it. I saw the top of it in his boot late last night. He was, um, threatening Sera.”

              Arwenna looked at her daughter and the brief shadow of fear that crossed it. “I can imagine how. That’s a story for later. Where was he last time you saw him?”

              Sera replied, “We were down in the cells, that way,” she pointed at the door they’d come through. “Two guards came in, said Senyan wanted him immediately. That Ramberti had ordered the city evacuated but that Curtis had to stay behind. They left, and we didn’t see another soul until we ran into the two of you.”

              “If that’s the case, I’m betting he went back to the castle to try and confront Ramberti before he left.” She looked at Y’Dürkie. “Take them back to the palace, find the others. I’ll search the compound for Senyan. When you find the dagger, bring it back.”

              “I’m not leaving you alone.” Sera exclaimed.

              Arwenna sighed, “It’s okay, Sera. Really. This is my task, not yours.”

              “It vill be safer if ve stay together, Arvenna,” Y’Dürkie spoke up. “Ve saw three others ahead of us. Ve do not know if they are friend or foe. I vould rather stay and make sure you live to meet Senyan.”

              Looking at the three faces in front of her, Arwenna nodded. It wasn’t worth arguing with them at this point. “Fine. But don’t get in my way. He’s not going to just lie there and die.”

              With them behind her, Arwenna began to climb the steps to the plaza again.

              The morning sun rapidly warmed the stones, making the morning dew evaporate. Small tendrils of steam reached up from the ground below them, parting as they walked.

              “Mom! Sera!” Liam’s voice shouted at her.

              Turning, she saw him running from a darkened archway. Hala and Hugh followed.

              Liam reached her first, gladly welcoming her embrace. “We have something for you,” he stated calmly as he moved away. He guided Hala by her elbow to stand in front of her.

              Reaching into her waistband, Hala produced her dagger. The emerald pulsated with light, and life. A faint green shimmer tinted the blade itself. “Thus ends my tenure as a Wielder of Tiren. The final honor is yours.” Hala extended her hands, the dagger cradled between them, toward Arwenna.

              A crossbow bolt flew into Hala’s arm, tossing the dagger as she screamed in pain. Arwenna turned toward where the bolt came from. Senyan stood in the doorway, the crossbow sliding from his grasp as his attention wavered.

              Following his gaze, she saw it. Halfway between the two of them, Hala’s dagger waited. She ran, her arm reaching for it, determined to reach it before he did.

              The sky darkened above her, and a sudden gust of wind blew across the terrace, knocking her to the ground. Cursing, she frantically searched the shadows for the dagger. A scream pierced the air. Arwenna heard Hugh call her name as she caught the green of the gem in the darkness. She dove for it, rolling away from the wind and noise.

              Once she stopped rolling, she unclenched her hands and saw the dagger resting in the palm of one of them. Raising her head, she blinked.

              Nannan stood on the plaza, her body shimmering in a multitude of metallic scales. Part of a bloody cloth clung to a claw. Her massive head turned toward Sera and Kial.

              Something hovered in the air, dark and undulating. The blackness began to coalesce into a single ball. It hovered for a moment, then moved in front of Kial.

              “The time is here, Son of Corse. Choose your path.” The dragon’s voice echoed across the city.