Honor Bound (13 page)

Not every exiled fairy returned.
Vishni knew that. She even knew what became of fairies who drank
too deeply of a sorcerer's magic. But those were stories, nothing
more.

For the first time in her long, long
life, Vishni could think of no horror to add to this
tale.

As flesh returned to the exile's
hands, the talons in Vishni's bleeding shoulder withdrew. She
wrenched herself away and ran, her bat wings hissing behind her
like malicious whispers.

* * *

Mendor, the newest member of
Sevrin's Council of Adepts, regarded his new work shop with a
mixture of pride and dismay.

The night wind whistled through the
ruined wall, and one of the vats of solvent for which Muldonny was
justly famed had fueled the explosion. It would take him years to
rebuild the supply.

The first order of business,
however, was repairing the clockwork guards. A dozen or so had been
heaped in a corner. The exact number was difficult to ascertain,
for thanks to the explosion and the battle that preceded it, none
of the guards remained whole. Mendor suspected that he'd be lucky
to piece together three or four from the scorched pile of scrap
metal.

Which is why he'd been so pleased to
receive twenty new guards this morning, a gift from Rhendish. His
old mentor had also sent a dozen devices that would enable Mendor
to quickly assume the loyalty of Muldonny's remaining
guards.

A clatter in the hall beyond brought
a frown of puzzlement to Mendor's face. Three of the constructs
marched into the room.

"I did not summon you," he
said.

The guards advanced.

"Stop!"

Still they came on.

Mendor dived for the box of loyalty
disks. Apparently the guards perceived him as an intruder. He
should have thought of this. Rhendish had. If only he'd had half
the foresight of his former master!

Two of the guards flanked him,
seized him. Mendor managed to slap a disk onto one of the
constructs, but it made no difference. One of the metal guards held
him while the other threw a chain over the ceiling beam near the
remaining vat of solvent.

The new adept writhed and shrieked
and cursed as the constructs snapped metal bands around his wrists
and attached them to one end of the chain. They hauled him up, tied
weights to his ankles, and dragged the chain across the beam until
he hung directly over the vat.

No inhabitant of Sevrin, much less
an alchemist, could fail to understand the reference. Eldreath had
been dropped into a pit of solvent.

Mendor screamed in terror and
denial.

The third guard raised its mailed
hands to its head. It removed the metal helm to reveal not gears
and wires, but a beardless, familiar face.

"Volgo, why are you doing this?"
Mendor pleaded. "We're both Rhendish's men!"

"Are we?"

"Yes!" he shrieked. "I owe Rhendish
everything! He trained me, he persuaded the council to give me
Muldonny's seat! I'm as loyal as you—"

Horror and understanding dawned.
"You know I'm no traitor. It's you who've turned your
coat."

"Never." Volgo leaned to one side
and spat. "Rhendish is a weakling and a fool. A better man has
always owned my loyalty."

He reached into his metal tunic and
pulled out a silver amulet. Mendor moaned as he realized its
significance. Like every other alchemist, he knew Eldreath's
sigil.

Volgo gestured for the constructs to
continue. He watched as the man was lowered into the vat. Mendor
screamed and thrashed until the solution reached his
knees.

Through it all, the surface of the
liquid remained perfectly calm. When Eldreath had been lowered into
a pit, the acid roiled like an angry sea and a storm raged
overhead. Four imps writhed on the ground, burning from the inside
out as they gave the last of their magic in an attempt save their
sorcerer lord.

But none of the fools who bore
witnesses realized the true nature of that magic: It was not a
rescue, but an illusion.

And when that illusion faded, only
three desiccated imps remained.

* * *

Somewhere in Rhendish's
mansion, a woman shrieked. Honor pushed herself up from the couch
where she'd been resting and instinctively reached for her
sword.

White-hot pain flashed the
length of her sword arm and the room swam and spun. Loss of blood
and the agonizing repairs to her arm had taken too large a
toll.

But the sound of running
footsteps was closer now, and the distant babble of voices had a
frantic quality. Honor made her way to the door of her chamber and
stepped out into the hall.

An apparition of evil ran
toward her, tears streaming down her still-pretty face.

The revulsion Honor
expected to feel did not come. Vishni ran into her arms and clung
to her like a child as she sobbed out the story of the
imps.

When she was finished, the
elf disentangled herself and stepped back. She frowned at the black
furrows scoring Vishni's shoulder. "Those wounds need tending. I
could do it, but Avidan could do it better. We should go back to
the Fox Den."

"I can't! Not like
this."

"You certainly can't stay
here. Rhendish is a sorcerer."

Vishni blinked. "Well. That
explains a few things."

"I'll go with you," Honor
promised. "There are things Fox and Delgar need to
know."

"Then you tell
them!"

"I will, but I can't find
my way into the tunnels without you."

"I'll show you! There's a
tunnel opening in the curiosity room. I'll go with you part way.
Tell them that I got distracted by a story. They will believe
that."

"Vishni."

Something in Honor's tone
seemed to penetrate the fairy's hysteria. She took a long steadying
breath. "I'll come with you."

"There's a way to undo
this," Honor said. "An elfin spell, very old and dark. You should
be able to reclaim your magic from the imps."

She snatched a cloak from a
hook on her wall and draped it over Vishi. They hurried down to the
curiosities rooms and headed for the cage.

But the creatures were
gone. Only a scattering of dust, rust colored and smelling faintly
of brimstone, remained on the floor of the cage.

Someone had gotten here
first.

"We'll find another way,
other magic," Honor promised. "But we've got to get your out
now."

Vishni raise one clawed
hand to point. "This way—"

A man stepped out from
behind a cabinet, a tall fair-haired man with a narrow, austere
face. He was neither young nor old, and he looked much as he had
two hundred years ago, when he left the forest on a mission of
diplomacy.

Honor stared at the living
ghost. And everything she'd learned about Sevrin's recent history
fell suddenly, horribly into place.

A sardonic smile twisted
the man's lips. "I see you remember me, cousin, even after these
many years."

* * *

Honor dropped a hand onto
Vishni's shoulder. "Explosions," she said. "Big ones. Right
now."

Manic glee suffused the
fairy's ravaged face. She flung both arms high, filling the room
with an illusion of bright lights and whirling
fireworks.

It was an act of
desperation; for a fairy on the edge of chaos, casting magic of any
kind could push her over. But it had the desired effect. Guards
came running, and Honor could hear Rhendish shouting commands as he
rushed to protect his precious collection.

She seized Vishni's hand
and dragged her through the magical storm toward the bookcase.
"Open the door. I'm right behind you."

The fairy dropped to her
knees and began to fling books aside. Honor ran to intercept
Rhendish. She drove a fist into his jaw and slung his limp body
over her shoulder.

She ran to the portal,
ignoring the fire in her arm, and dropped the unconscious adept to
the floor. After a moment, Vishni got the idea and helped pull him
through. Honor ducked in after and slammed the door
shut.

She crouched over Rhendish
and slapped his face until he woke up. His eyes shifted to the
half-transformed fairy and widened.

"We need to leave," Honor
said. "
Now
."

"Do we?" Rhendish said
coolly. He sat up and brushed an imaginary bit of dust from the
shoulder of his blue tunic. "And why would that be?"

"Because I'm leaving, and
I'm bound to you for a year and a day."

The adept scoffed. "You
have a strange notion of 'service.' I see no reason for me to leave
my own manor."

Honor shook her head. "It's
not your manor anymore."

"No?"

"No. Eldreath is
back."

About the Author

Elaine Cunningham lives in a fantasy
world. Several of them, in fact. Over the past twenty years, she
has inhabited the Forgotten Realms, visited a galaxy far, far away,
crossed the mists into Ravenloft, sung with the elven bards of
EverQuest, and traveled with the Pathfinders of Golarion. With
Tales of Sevrin, she has finally come home to a world of her own
creation.

To learn more about Sevrin, visit
www.ElaineCunningham.com. This site is updated every week with
Sevrin lore, short fiction, and excerpts from upcoming
stories.

Books by Elaine
Cunningham

Tales of Sevrin

Honor Among Thieves

Honor Bound

Changeling Detective

Shadows in the Darkness

Shadows in the Starlight

Forgotten Realms

Elfshadow

Elfsong

Silver Shadows

Dream Spheres

Thornhold

Daughter of the Drow

Tangled Webs

Windwalker

The Magehound

The Wizardwar

Evermeet

City of Splendors (with Ed
Greenwood)

Best of the Realms Book III: The Stories of
Elaine Cunningham

Star Wars

Dark Journey (New Jedi Order, Book
10)

Pathfinder Tales

Winter Witch (with Dave Gross)

EverQuest

The Blood Red Harp

Spelljammer

The Radiant Dragon (Cloakmaster Cycle, Book 4
of 6)

First Quest

The Unicorn Hunt