Fortress Draconis (67 page)

Will hooked a toe beneath the guard on the Spider’s sword and kicked it up into the air. Rising, he grabbed the blade’s curiously leather-wrapped forte in his left hand. He felt a sting where his last two fingers touched bare metal, then tossed the sword to Resolute. “Catch.”

The sword was not the only thing flying through the air. Vionna flicked her left hand forward, launching a trove of gold coins into Alexia’s face. The princess batted some away with her free hand, but others hit her. She recoiled from them and her advancing foe, then caught a heel on

Vionna’s toppled chair. Alexia went down, hitting her head hard on the stone floor, and the pirate queen loomed up over her, with her sword poised to impale the princess.

It likely would have spitted Alexia, save that Crow grabbed one of the candelabra and lunged, catching Vionna’s swordhand in the device’s tangled arms. Hot wax splashed over the pirate’s face. She spun, tearing the candelabra out of Crow’s grasp. He kept coming, slamming his body into hers and pitching her into and over the treasure chest. It slid down, half burying her in a shower of gold.

Resolute snatched the sword Śfrom the air in his left hand and turned Nefrai-laysh’s next cut easily. The Vorquelf’s right fist came up, clipping thesullancins chin and driving him backward. The dark creature stumbled back, bumping into the table. A feral grin twisting across his face, he parried Resolute’s next lunge with his left hand, grabbing the blade. Nefrai-laysh hissed as Resolute slid the blade free of his grip, then smeared black blood over the dining table. For a half second the black puddle smoked, then it burst into flame, and fire ran the length of the table.

Nefrai-laysh gave the elf a quick nod. “Another piece of prophecy has been given to thee. Be wise, be well, for in agony you will dwell. This is true: death in pyre, born in fire.”

Thesullanciri snapped his head backward and brought his heels up. His cloak merged with the flames on the table, then he vanished, leaving the table burning and thick smoke gathering.

“Resolute, some help here.” Crow had Alexia on her feet, with one hand thrown over his shoulder, but she was all loose-limbed. The elf edged past the table to get her, while Lombo and Dranae rushed forward and scattered the pirates standing between them and the stairs. Orla followed them, and Kerrigan trailed behind her. He still carried the platter with Qwc on it, and the Spritha hugged himself tightly to the sapphire.

Will headed out as swiftly as he could, which meant he paused only to loop a couple of gold chains around his neck and pluck up a leather pouch that felt and weighed as if full of gemstones. Deciding to act the rear guard, he drew a sword from among those stored in the treasury and prided himself on the fact that his choice had not been the most ornate, but a bit more functional than that.

Will followed the others up the stairs and out into the courtyard. The guards at the gate gave them no trouble and Will wondered why until he saw Peri crouched over their bodies. The Gyrkyme crossed to where the princess hung between Resolute and Crow and peered up into Alexia’s eyes.

“More will die for this!” Peri slashed taloned fingers through the air. “More, many more.”

“She had a knock on the head, Perrine; she’ll be fine. We need you to get the DragonCrown fragment out of here.” Crow pointed with his free hand toward Kerrigan and his treasure.

The Gyrkyme shook her head. “I won’t leave her.”

“You must, Peri.” Crow let his voice soften slightly. “You know she would tell you to take it. She’d entrust it to you as she was entrusted to your father.”

“Yes, but remember what happened to the other Gyrkyme that tried to escape with a piece of the DragonCrown. They died in Svarskya.”

Resolute nodded. “But they were not Preyknosery Ironwing’s daughter.”

Peri’s head came up at that. “Where do I take it?”

“Where, Qwc knows where.” The Spritha stood on the platter and hefted the sapphire onto his shoulder, then staggered back against Kerrigan’s chest. “We fly, Perrine, Qwc knows where.”

The Gyrkyme took the gem from him, then narrowed her amber eyes. “If something happens to her …”

“Never.” Crow shook his head adamantly. “I promise.”

Orla patted Perrine on the back. “Get going. You’ve not a moment to lose.”

The Gyrkyme and the Spritha launched themselves skyward, then circled the tower once and dipped down to the south. They vanished beneath the far wall. Will nodded, happy to see them away, then looked to his companions. “How do we get out of here?”

Lombo let loose with a thunderous hooting so loud that Will clapped his hands over his ears. In the distance a half-dozen similar howls answered him. “Lombo’s ship.”

“Your ship? I think not.” Wheele, backed by a crowd of pirates, strode through the tunnel and stopped at the courtyard’s edge. “Orla, your master detected the traces of your magick on me. He sends his compliments.”

Orla moved forward, interposing herself between Wheele and the others. “Stay behind me. He’s mine.”

“He said you were brave, more brave than intelligent. I’ll enjoy telling him how you died.” The man laughed and drew a slender wand from the top of his right boot. “I had this wand from his hand for me to use against Vilwan spawn.”

He spun the wand between his fingers, then snapped it into his palm and thrust it at her. A green jet of flame lanced out at her, but Orla gestured casually and deflected it to the ground. It ignited the granite there, pooling for a moment, leaving dancing flames to splash their shadows over the courtyard’s walls.

Orla slowly began to circle, only a quarter of the way around, then pivoted on her right foot. Her left foot came forward, toward Wheele, and her left hand came up. A gold spark flew at him as if it were a bee intent on a blossom. Her right hand also came up and flicked a scattering of other sparks toward the tunnel.

They hit the walls, rebounding, splitting and spitting, then swooped down into the pirates. The first spark touched a man and he burst into flame. Another who parried the spark with his ax found its blade molten and dripping. The pirates shrieked and ran, including the burning man.

The spark hit Wheele square in the chest, and the serpent’s head darted its tongue out to lick the magick up. The man shivered for a second, then burst into flames. But he laughed aloud. “You make it too easy, Orla, as he said you would. You’ve sacrificed yourself for your friends, and I shall have them, too.”

Wheele flicked the wand at her and a jagged green bolt of lightning stabbed her through her bowels. It tossed her back against Kerrigan. She grabbed the silver platter and tore it from his grasp as she fell at his feet.

Kerrigan screamed in fury and flashed both his palms at Wheele. A starfall of gold sparks swirled and curled out at the man. They tightened down into a coruscating lash of light that flayed some flame away, but mostly was sucked into the fire. Wheele’s magick blazed more furiously.

“Your apprentice is a fool, Orla. He watches you and does not learn. Your magick cannot harm me.”

“My magick, no,” she gasped as she pointed a quavering hand at him. “But yours …”

With the jerked and pained gesture, Orla sent the silver platter riding a wave of magick through the air. It spun slowly, easily, but always with a purpose, soaring, not drifting toward him. It picked up speed as it flew, turning faster, with the firelight flashing from it, over Wheele, the keep, and the walls. The platter tipped upright at the last moment, passing broadside through Wheele’s fiery armor.

It was in that last second when Wheele realized the threat.

The metal glowed red, then white. It hit him heavily, smothering him like a wet sheet. It poured thickly over his head and shoulders like molten wax. The man’s scream was not enough to bubble the fluid metal, but his tortured expression did contort it. Viscous silver flooded his mouth and splashed down his body, then flames flared. Black smoke billowed around him for a moment, then vanished along with most of the flames. Wheele’s smoking corpse knelt in the center of the courtyard with its head thrown back and its silent silver scream pitched at the cold stars.

His wand clattered to the stone.

Lombo scooped Orla up into his arms. “The wand, the wand,” she murmured before she went limp.

Will beat her apprentice to it, then chased him from the citadel. He resisted the temptation to outdistance the blubbering mage, and likewise didn’t thwack him across his ample buttocks with the wand. Instead, he tucked the wand into his belt, turned to watch their backtrail, and brandished his sword at any shadow that looked the least bit menacing. Because of his efforts or in spite of them, the company made it to the docks unmolested and set off quickly on their escape.

Kerrigan sat on theWhite Shark’s afterdeck, his legs crossed, his hands clutching a slender ebon staff across his knees. He stared intently at the luminous wake trailing the ship, seeking any sign of pursuit. His line of sight had no impediment as the taffrail and several posts had been torn away, leaving a gaping hole between him and the sea. There had been no ships sighted since they left Port Gold’s harbor, but he dared not let his vigilance slacken.

Behind him crewmen grunted and strained, lines creaked, and the sails and pennants snapped as theShark headed east. Flying through the city, they had encountered no trouble and had reached Lombo’s old ship quickly enough. Perrine and Qwc had gotten there before them and released the four Panqui who had been held in chains as galley slaves. They slew the men loyal to Wheele and Reach, and the rest of the crew gladly decided to sail under Captain Lombo again.

The Panqui had carried Orla below to the largest cabin and had laid her in a berth. Kerrigan had followed, hoping to heal her, but Orla roused herself enough to send him back up on the deck. “Stop the ships, Adept, or we are lost.”

On deck it had been close to panic. Sailors dropped into the galley benches and took up the oars to get the ship moving, while others cut the anchor lines or lowered sails. Lombo barked orders loud and fast. The crew responded admirably, and the ship got under way, leaving the harbor by the light of the flaming stronghold. Ś

Kerrigan had felt his face burn shamefully. He had clearly seen that Orla’s spell had not worked to destroy Wheele. Why did he assume that more and more powerful of the same would do it? As he had watched the man’s sorcerous armor incorporate his magick and grow stronger, he had searched for spells that could counter it, snuffing the fire and Wheele, but there were so many choices and Orla lay dying and …

The Adept had shaken himself, determined to make amends. As theShark pulled away, he moved to the afterdeck and studied the ships. He forced himself to be calm, to ignore all the chaos around him, then reached out with the spell he’d used to destroy the other pirate ship. He chose Vionna’sOcean Witch as his first victim. He did not pluck it out of the water, as he needed to preserve his strength to deal with each ship in turn. Instead he took hold of the mast and started it shaking as if it were beset by an incredible gale. He worried it, working it back and forth, then, with a big push, drove it down through the keel.

Water geysered up through the holes in the hull and deck. Sailors scattered, diving for the bay as the first ship began to wallow. Kerrigan shifted his attention to the next largest and the next, tearing away rudders, snapping masts, crushing the galley deck, and breaking oars apart. After that he tightened his right hand into a fist and pounded it down on his leg. With each blow a piece of pier exploded, chasing sailors to dry land.

His last blow, delivered through tear-filled eyes, had crushed the taffrail. Lombo had grabbed his hand before he could further smash the ship and held on until Kerrigan’s rage had fled, taking with it his strength. Sobs had wracked him, so Lombo scooped him up and carried him below, placing him in a chair beside Orla.

Part of Kerrigan wanted to fall asleep, but he didn’t let himself. Instead he levered himself to his feet and cast a diagnostic spell over his mentor. The impressions he drew from her were of a severe burn, akin to the sort of wound one would create by casting a lightning spell at a target. Kerrigan had cast the same diagnostic spell on a rabbit that had been hit by such a spell and felt similar damage.

That kind of damage he could have healed, but before he could start working on her, Orla’s eyes flickered open. “No, Kerrigan.”

He’d blinked. “I want to fix you.”

“No. Check again. Traces of magick.”

Kerrigan had cast another spell on her, one used for detecting magick, and he did find some residual magick in her. That surprised him, because a combat spell like the lightning spell couldn’t have left an impression behind.Traces are only left when something is enchanted.

He switched to a forensic spell, one that probed in faint degrees. It tested the edges of enchantment and was employed by scholars on Vilwan as a way to puzzle out the nature of enchantments on all manner of items. In casting the spell he immediately got a sense of two spells lingering there. One was active, slowly poisoning her, and the other had quiet tendrils wrapped around the first. What surprised him about the second spell was that he got so small an impression of it that he almost missed it. A mage of lesser talent certainly would have.

Kerrigan had straightened up and thought for a moment, and then a moment longer.Just as Wheele’s shield ate up my spell and increased his, could this second spell do that to the first, hastening her death?. He wanted to do something, but didn’t know what.

He gathered up her hand in his. “Orla, you have to help me. If you don’t, you’ll die.”

She winced, her face grey and pinched. Her brown eyes opened only slightly. “I’ll die anyway.” The words came in a rush, with her chest rising before, and descending fast as she spoke. “When you healed me … you fixed more, yes?”

Kerrigan nodded slowly. “Simple things. Wear and tear.”

Orla smiled slightly. “That’s why I’m not dead yet.”

“What?”

“Heslin knew who would hunt him and his.” She paused for a moment, her eyelids dipping. Her body shook with a new jolt of pain, but she gave his hand a squeeze. “The wand … read my magick, modified the spell cast. Heslin liked finesse. Tailored it to kill me. But I’m not me, because of you.”