Blood and Honor (Forest Kingdom Novels) (31 page)

“They are,” said Sir Gawaine. “I did some research on the history of the Unreal when I first came to Castle Midnight. I like to know what I might be up against. As far as I can tell, there have only ever been four major gateways, and they were all the result of High Magic gone bad.”

“High Magic …” Jordan scowled unhappily. “There aren’t many people in the castle with that kind of power. There’s the steward, of course, but I think we can count her out. There’s Roderik, but I don’t see what he could hope to gain by it. And there’s Count William, but I think we can count him out for the same reason. No, Gawaine, there’s only one person in this castle with High Magic who’s crazy enough to do something like this, and that’s Dominic.”

“I was wondering how long it would take you to work that out,” said Sir Gawaine. “That’s why we’re going in this direction. Prince Dominic has a set of spare apartments down this way. I’m betting that’s where we’ll find him and his gateway.”

A low rumbling began in the gloom at the end of the long corridor. It was quiet at first, like a roll of faraway thunder, but it grew steadily louder as it drew nearer. Jordan and Gawaine stopped where they were, and listened. The noise changed from thunder to something that might have been the growling of a huge beast, and Jordan stirred uneasily. But the sound rumbled on, always gaining in volume, roaring, churning, and splashing. Jordan gradually realized what he was hearing. He looked at Gawaine in horror, and saw his own shocked understanding in the knight’s face. They looked back at the corridor, and the great wave of water came boiling down the passage toward them. Dominic had used his water magic to call up a tsunami: a gigantic tidal wave.

“Run!” screamed Jordan, but Gawaine grabbed him by the arm.

“There isn’t time!” he yelled, over the roar of the approaching water. “Get behind me!”

He planted his feet firmly and held his ax out before him, using both hands to hold it steady. The runes on the blade glowed brighter than the sun. Jordan crouched behind Gawaine, and wondered how long it took to die by drowning. He’d only seen the ocean a few times in his life, and he’d never bothered to learn to swim. He clung forlornly to his sword, and wished he could have made a better showing as Viktor. Now he’d never know what kind of prince he’d have made. The great wall of frothing water came surging down the corridor and slammed against Sir Gawaine, only to break apart as it hit his glowing ax and split into two lesser waves that roared by on either side of him. Enough spray and rough water broke free to drench Gawaine and Jordan to the skin, but they were still able to snatch gulps of air and hold their ground. The water thundered on and on; breaking around them and beating against the corridor walls. And then, finally, the level of the water fell away, and the tsunami was past, its fury spent. Gawaine lowered his ax, and let out a slow sigh of relief.

“That was close. That was as close as it’s ever been, and then some. Are you all right, Your Highness?”

“Fine. I’ve always wanted to play the part of a drowned rat.” Jordan tried to squeeze some of the water out of his clothes, and then gave it up as a bad job. “That’s some ax the High Warlock gave you.”

“I’ve always thought so. We’d better get moving. Calling up that much water must have weakened your brother considerably, but it won’t take him long to recover. His apartments should be just down here.”

Gawaine splashed through the inches-deep water and headed for a closed door up on the right. Jordan followed him, wondering absently if the water was draining away through the holes in the floor, and if so, what would happen when all those gallons of water met the blazing magma down below. He decided that he’d rather not be around when it happened, and increased his pace to draw level with the knight. Gawaine finally stopped before a door that looked no different from any of the others. He tried the doorknob, and it turned easily in his grasp. Gawaine eased the door open an inch, and let go the handle. He looked inquiringly at Jordan, who nodded firmly. Sir Gawaine kicked the door open, and the two of them charged into Dominic’s apartment.

The Lady Elizabeth was hanging on the far wall. Crude iron nails had been driven through her arms and legs, pinning her to the brickwork. She’d been gutted, her body split open from neck to crotch. And yet somehow, horribly, she was still alive. Her mouth worked silently, but there was no sanity left in the bulging eyes. In the center of what had been Elizabeth’s abdomen, strange lights and colors moved sickeningly.

A gateway can be anything.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” said Dominic.

Jordan and Sir Gawaine looked around sharply. Prince Dominic was seated elegantly in a comfortably padded chair, one hand cradling a brandy glass. Beside him stood a small table, bearing a silver tray with a dozen or so dainty little snacks. He looked like he’d been there for some time. As always, Dominic wore no sword or armor, but still he looked totally at ease, and in full command of the situation.

“You bastard,” said Jordan. “How could you do that to her? She was your wife!”

“You’re even more sentimental than the man you pretend to be,” said Dominic, amusedly. “Ours was never a love match, actor. Elizabeth thought she was using me as a means to power. In fact, it turned out to be the other way around. Poor Elizabeth.” He gestured languidly with his free hand, and all the water soaking Jordan and Gawaine’s clothes suddenly disappeared. “There. That’s better. I don’t know why you’re looking so shocked, Gawaine. You know perfectly well that you despised Elizabeth, and she you. Or perhaps you’re merely worried about the castle. Fear not. The Unreal isn’t nearly strong enough yet to break through without my gateway. As soon as it’s caused enough chaos to suit my purpose, I’ll destroy the gate, and the Unreal will be back under control again. Simple, but elegant, don’t you think—like all the best plans.”

“What do you hope to achieve by all this?” said Jordan slowly. A dizzying anger had begun to burn within him, but for the moment he kept it firmly under control. “What’s so important that hundreds of people in the West Wing had to die because of it?”

“Just a little general chaos,” said Dominic, “which my people, carefully forewarned, will take advantage of to gain the best positions in the castle, and destroy Lewis’s troops. William’s men will be too busy coping with the Unreal to interfere, until it’s too late. By the time I finally close the gateway, my people will control Castle Midnight, and my rule will begin.”

“You take care of Dominic,” said Gawaine to Jordan. He turned to stare at the gateway. “I’ll take care of this abomination.”

“I’m afraid I really can’t allow that,” said Dominic. He rose to his feet in a single languid movement, pivoted on one foot, and kicked the ax out of Gawaine’s hand. “Now, old man, let’s see how good you are without a magic ax to protect you.”

Gawaine cursed angrily, and reached for Dominic with his bare hands. The prince smiled, and gestured lightly with his left hand. Gawaine groaned once, and slumped to his knees. Fat beads of sweat formed on his face, and ran away in steady streams.

“Have you ever considered,” said Dominic conversationally to Jordan, “how much of the human body is water? Water I can control, by my magic? In fact, have you ever considered what a man would look like, after every drop of water in him had been drained away?”

Jordan palmed a flare pellet from his sleeve, nicked the wax coating with his thumbnail, and threw the pellet at Dominic’s face. The prince fell back a step, taken by surprise, but the pellet still cracked against his forehead and broke open. Flames roared up around his face, and his hair caught alight. He screamed, and beat at the flames with his hands.

Jordan ran over to the gateway, sword in hand. He stood before Elizabeth and then stopped, as he realized he had no idea what to do next. Compassion, outrage, and not wanting to look a coward had brought him this far, but the gateway was more horrible than anything in the corridors. Elizabeth should have been dead, but somehow the gateway was keeping her alive. The power that implied was far beyond anything Jordan could hope to defeat. He’d never felt so scared in his life. He couldn’t seem to get his breath, his legs were shuddering, and his stomach churned with tension. He was no hero or soldier—he didn’t belong here. Jordan swallowed hard, and shook his head doggedly. He remembered the tsunami, and his regret at never having had a chance to act as a prince should. Now he’d been given the chance. Whether he lived or died no longer seemed as important as it once had. All that mattered now was destroying the gateway before the Unreal broke free of its restraints, and killed everyone in the castle. Jordan raised his sword, and tried to figure out where to strike for the best. He was still just as scared. He just didn’t care anymore.

The churning lights shining deep in the gutted body pulled at his eyes, mesmerizing him, and he jerked his gaze away with an effort. He could hear Dominic groaning and cursing, and stumbling back and forth behind him. And then Jordan looked up, and his gaze met the mad eyes in Elizabeth’s face, and he knew what he had to do. He took a firm grip on his sword, and cut at the Lady Elizabeth’s neck. His sword bit deeply, and blood spurted out in a thick jet. He cut again, and severed the head completely. It fell past him, and bounced once on the floor before rolling away. The eyes still moved, and the mouth worked silently. And then blood welled from the gateway in a steady stream, and in the blink of an eye the gateway fell in on itself, and was gone. The body hanging on the wall was just a body, and Elizabeth’s head lay still and silent on the floor. Jordan turned away.

Sir Gawaine was sitting on his haunches, pale and drawn but now clinging grimly onto his ax. There was a scuffing sound to Jordan’s right, and he looked quickly around to see Dominic leaning against the wall by the door. He’d put out the flames by conjuring up water, but not before the fire had done its worst. Half his hair was gone, and his face was horribly disfigured. There was a drifting smell of burned meat in the air. Dominic peered at Jordan with his one good eye, and raised a shaking hand in a mystical gesture, only to stop as Gawaine lurched to his feet again, ax at the ready. Dominic smiled at Jordan, his teeth horribly white against the scorched and blackened flesh of his face.

“I’ll watch you die by inches for this, actor.”

A split in the air opened before Dominic and swallowed him up. The air sparked with static, and then was still. Jordan and Sir Gawaine looked at each other.

“Always has to have the last word, your brother,” said Gawaine.

They put away their weapons, and Gawaine glanced briefly at what was left of the Lady Elizabeth.

“Poor lass,” he said quietly. “I never liked her, but no one should have to die like that.”

“Let’s get out of here,” said Jordan. “I’m so tired, I’m asleep on my feet.”

Gawaine smiled wearily. “I’d forgotten just how hectic life can be at Castle Midnight. You’d better grab some sleep while you can, Your Highness. We’ve closed the gateway, but it’s only a matter of time before the Unreal grows strong enough to break through on its own. And we still don’t know how much damage Dominic’s troops have done under cover of the chaos.”

“Doesn’t this place ever quiet down?” said Jordan disgustedly. “I’ve appeared in murder mysteries that were less complicated than this.”

“The only way this castle will ever know peace is when there’s a king on the throne. That’s the truth you always have to remember here. Castle Midnight needs a king. Any king.” He stretched slowly, and shook his head. His chain mail rustled softly, as though protesting. “Let’s go. And Jordan … I wouldn’t mention Elizabeth’s death to Viktor. Not just yet. It had better be our secret, for the time being.”

Jordan nodded, and he and Sir Gawaine left the room and made their way back down the corridor. The Unreal was gone, and the West Wing was nothing more than cold stone and warm lamplight. There was a peaceful stillness to the air, like the calm after a thunderstorm has passed. Jordan felt a slow wave of tiredness moving through his body as tense muscles gradually unwound, but even so he wasn’t fooled by appearances. Behind the air of normality, the Unreal was still there, waiting.

Jordan and Sir Gawaine found the rest of their party waiting for them back at the barricade. Captain Doyle and his men were looking after the exhausted steward and Mother Donna, while Cord stood guard a little distance away. Taggert had one arm heavily bandaged, but was well enough to be arguing firecely with Doyle as to whether or not she was fit enough to return to duty. The two of them broke off and looked around as the guards raised a cheer on seeing Jordan and Gawaine. Many willing hands helped to pull the barricade apart and make an opening for the returning heroes. Wee Geordie and the ghost dog were jumping up and down excitedly, and apparently vying with each other to see who could make the most noise. Gawaine took it all rather brusquely, but Jordan was in his element. It had been awhile since he’d known adulation like this, and he intended to enjoy it while it lasted. He clapped Doyle on the shoulder, and smiled magnanimously at the guards.

“The gateway’s been destroyed,” he said loudly, and grinned at Taggert. “You should have a slightly easier time of it for a while, Steward.”

Taggert grinned back at him, and moved forward to stand before him. “You saved my life, Your Highness. Hell, you saved all our lives. I don’t know what happened while you were in exile, but I thank God for it. You’ve come back a fine and honorable man, Viktor, and I’m proud to serve under you.”

She drew her sword and raised it in the ancient warrior’s oath of fealty. There was a clash of steel as the guards raised their swords, too, and then one by one they knelt and bowed their heads to Jordan. Captain Doyle and Captain Blood knelt with their men, their faces proud and glowing and just a little awed. Taggert, Damon Cord, and Mother Donna sank to one knee, and bowed their heads. Jordan had strong feeling that things were starting to get out of hand. He looked to Sir Gawaine for advice, and found the knight was kneeling, too. Jordan looked away, and found Wee Geordie and the bloodhound looking at him worshipfully. He swallowed hard and waved weakly at them all with his hands.