Rise (War Witch Book 1) (63 page)

Even Chara would never consider setting her warrior senses on high with a trick like that. She knew the young woman well enough to be certain of it. Which left only a fight having happened, and judging by the freshness of the blood, while she and Leto had been entering the main hall.

Glancing over at him, she asked if he thought the source of the scream could be the same as the blood. He shook his head, face grim, not sure of anything. It was certainly possible, though at this point, he wasn't sure what wasn't.

Reaching an intersection, Ramora turned and saw Izra, slumped against the wall, leaving a trail of blood against it as she moved. Leto spotted her as well, gasping. Abandoning their caution, both ran towards her.

He knew she wasn't someone easily defeated. Whoever had done this was a formidable foe, a realization that fanned the flames of anxiety he felt. The closer he got, the more he worried. Just what the Hells was going on?

The Elf limped, her leg pouring blood from a vicious wound, her arms torn with injuries, a long jagged tear down her back staining her clothes. Reaching her, Ramora spun in front, grasping her as the Blessed of Hepheron looked up, half her face covered in blood.

"Izra," Leto said, trying to find a place to touch her that wasn't injured.

"Ramora," she gasped. "Leto. Thank the Gods."

Trying to steady her, Ramora helped her sink to the floor, the Elf weak beyond words from both her injuries, and blood loss. Glancing to Leto, she motioned for him to talk as she set about calling healing runes to her mind, tracing them over her friend as her Rabbit sang power into them.

"What happened?" the Blessed of Grannax asked.

"They're dead," she said softly. "All of them. Everyone is dead."

Ramora froze for a moment, her heart pounding wildly. That couldn't be.
What of Chara? Esteban? What did she mean, everybody?
Panic nearly gripped her as she struggled to stay focused on healing the Elf.

"Izra, look at me, okay?" Leto urged. "Come on, tell me, who did this to you?"

"It was Untar," she replied, voice trembling. "He did it. He killed Bit, Flick, and Sabra. He killed Rick. Oh, Gods, he killed Tanna. It happened so fast. They were dead before I could even react. Gods forgive me, I couldn't do anything to save them."

Leto shook his head in disbelief. "That can't be right."

Ramora tapped his hand, signing that there was Demonic Corruption in the Elf. She could drive it out, but it would require her to invest more power and draw a divine healing sigil on her.

Nodding, he turned back to Izra. "Are you certain it was Untar?"

The Deep Elf nodded slowly as Ramora brushed her blood-stained hair back from her brow, drawing the sigil. "It was him. He was wielding a Netherspear, and had magic. I fought him, but I messed up and let him get off a speed spell."

"I can't believe this," Leto murmured. "Untar would never betray us."

"He murdered Tanna," Izra snapped, grabbing him by the shirt. "He would've killed me, too, but he wanted me to bring you two a message."

"What?" Leto asked, startled by the venom in her voice.

"He said he was heading up to the walls, to greet a special guest," she said, letting go of him. "An emissary, of Draco. He's surrendering the city to him."

Ramora felt her hands clench. This couldn't be right. There was no way a Blessed of Grannax would turn like that. What the Hells was really going on here?

"Ramora," Leto said. "How is she?"

Shaking her head, she let him know she wasn't sure. Her healing magic would take time to be effective, since there was Demonic Corruption in her from the Netherspear. She'd done all she could. Izra's life was in the hands of the Gods now.

"Go," Izra said suddenly, grasping Ramora's hand. "Find him. Stop him. Kill that son of a bitch for what he did."

Nodding, she squeezed the Elf's hand in return and stood, looking to Leto.

"I don't feel right leaving her here," he said.

"Just go," Izra said, pushing him away. "Be careful. He's a sorcerer now. Conjuring, I think. He wove swords out of the air."

"We'll be back, as soon as we can," Leto told her. "Please, Izra, hang on."

Her smile was thin and pathetic. "I make no promises, my friend. Not today. Just make him pay. Do that, and I can rest easy."

Resting his palm on her head for a moment, he stood, looking to Ramora and nodding. Together, they hurried away, racing for one of the stairwells that lead all the way up. There wasn't much time, not even enough for her to fetch her armor.

Izra slumped against the wall and cried softly.

ESTEBAN MASSAGED HIS ARMS,
trying to get the pins and needles feeling to go away as he gave Leena a suspicious look, asking, "Did you have to paralyze me?"

"My apologies. I couldn't be certain if you were really you or not," she said.

Chara frowned. "So, you've figured it out as well?"

The aide nodded. "Earlier, when Untar dismissed me from my duties."

"So, I was right," the young woman fretted. "He's not really Untar at all."

"How is that proof?" Esteban mewled, still tingling from the bespectacled woman’s strange attacks.

"Please," Chara snorted. "Haven't you noticed before? He wouldn't know his right foot from his left shoulder without her there to tell him."

"You praise me unduly," Leena said softly. "I am but a humble assistant."

"Lady, that's the biggest understatement ever," Esteban grumbled.

Leena offered a shy smile. "I admit, I'm also a skilled assassin."

"Seriously?" Chara gaped.

"You can't tell, of course," Leena replied as she unbuttoned her jacket and slid it off, revealing the intricate network of tattoos that graced her arms. "I keep it well hidden. I'm Leenatra Adaway, a Silken Sister."

"Oh," Esteban murmured softly. "Damn."

"Uh, you mean that super-secretive group of women assassins that nobody is supposed to know anything about lest they face certain death in their sleep?" Chara fumbled.

Leena smirked. "Yes. That."

"Um," the young woman offered slowly.

"It matters not," the other woman replied. "Those who have shown themselves worthy, by standing against the tide of corruption, siding with the rightful Gods, may know of us should the need be great. I believe that today, it is."

"Okay, so, not gonna die horribly in my sleep." Chara nodded quickly. "Good to know."

"Very good," Esteban added.

"I take it the two of you came up here looking for some sign of what's happened to Untar, then?" Leena asked as she slid her jacket back on, buttoning it.

"That was our plan, yeah," Chara admitted. "Though, I guess you beat us to it."

The aide shook her head. "I only arrived a moment before you. I've had to take great care to move about the castle unnoticed, as I'm no longer supposed to be here."

"Then you've also noticed that there are a lot fewer guards on duty than usual," Chara said.

"I have," she replied. "I noticed many going up to the walls, while most headed out into the city. I believe an attack is imminent, and they, like Untar, have been replaced. Likely by Doppelgangers."

Chara felt a chill run down her spine. "Demon Seed."

"Yes," Leena nodded. "However this has happened, we have little time to stop the attack, if any."

"Okay," Esteban said slowly. "But how did you know we hadn't been replaced?"

Leena shrugged a bit. "Lady Chara, really. Her defiance is something no creature of evil could imitate that effectively, not even a Doppelganger."

"I'm not sure that's a compliment," Chara muttered.

"It is, I assure you," the assassin said with a smile. "I've been taught to see many things in how a person stands, moves, breathes, even to read their eyes for signs of their intent. I had no doubt you were you, just as I had no doubt that had I killed him, you would've killed me before I drew my next breath."

"Comforting," Esteban sighed.

"We should get moving," Leena said, looking back down the hall. "They're searching for you."

"Untar's quarters," Chara nodded. "Last place they'd look."

Taking the lead, with Esteban watching her back, Chara noted Leena covering the rear and wondered just how Untar had gotten one of the legendary assassins of the Silken Sisters for a personal aide. Of course, until now, she hadn't even be certain they really existed, their legacy one of myth and rumor rather than any fact.

She still wasn't entirely convinced she could trust the other woman, but the tattoos on her arms fit with what little she'd heard of the guild, though even that, really, was suspect. For the moment, she decided to let it be, as the woman easily could've killed Esteban, and hadn't.

Looking up at Esteban, she saw her concerns mirrored, and shook her head. If Leena was right, then they were right in the middle of a full-scale Demon Seed attack on Lansing. It was no time to ponder the mystery of a near-mythical guild of female killers.

Turning back to the door, Chara nearly screamed as Rick flickered into existence, his spirit projection half-visible, ghostly, and as always, creeping her out more than a little. Catching her breath, she had to admit, she was glad to see him.

"Chara," he said with relief. "Esteban. You're still alive. Thank goodness. I've been searching all over the castle for some sign of anyone."

Leena slid up next to her. "Lord Westerman."

"Ah, good," he sighed. "You're not hurt, either, Leena. I'm glad to see it."

"Gods, Rick," Chara finally said. "You nearly scared the shit out of me."

He gave her a slight grin. "Sorry about that. I'm glad I found you though. I don't have much time left."

"What do you mean?" Esteban asked.

Rick gave him a sorrowful look. "I'm afraid I'm already dead. I managed to invoke my Divine Gift just beforehand. I have no body to return to, and don't know how much longer I'll be able to stay like this. Please, listen carefully."

"Whoa, back up," Chara gasped. "What do you mean you're dead?"

"Never mind that," Rick chastised her. "It isn't important right now. What does matter is that it was Untar who attacked us, or rather, someone who looked like him."

"A Doppelganger," Leena nodded. "We assumed as much."

"No," the Blessed of Terakus said, shaking his head. "I saw past his guise. He's a Dark Blessed, one of Derril's. A sorcerer, I believe. He had mystic energy spiraling around him. That's not what you need to know, though."

"I'd say that's pretty damn important," Chara shot back.

"Not as much as the crest he wore," Rick replied. "A black dragon, reared back, breathing fire."

Esteban went wide-eyed. "Surely not."

"I'm afraid so. He serves Draco. Somehow, he's managed to strike at us before we could strike at him." Rick flickered for a moment, then settled, paler than before. "I'm almost out of time. Listen, he's very dangerous. He took out our entire team before any of us could react. You have to find Ramora and Leto and let them know."

"The entire team," Chara echoed in shock. "You can't be serious. They're... wait..."

"Dead, yes," Rick replied. "I'm sorry. This was all I could do. The rest, it's up to you three now."

Chara felt a spiral of panic grip her. "What can we do? He took out six Blessed by himself."

"Listen to me, Chara," Rick pressed, fading as he spoke. "If anyone can figure it out, it's you. I have faith in you. You're smarter than you believe yourself to be. Think of it like a game of Masters. You'll find a way."

Shaking her head, Chara recoiled as he grew more transparent. "I'm not... no.... wait... I can't do this."

"You have to," he urged. "Trust yourself, as I do. Be strong."

Chara fell back into Esteban, feeling his strong hands grip her shoulders as Rick vanished. For a moment, all she could do was stare at the door in front of her, unable to fully process what had just happened.

They were gone. All of them. Rick, Sabra, Bit, Tanna, Flick, and even Izra. Dead. It was too much. This couldn't be happening.

"We need to move," Leena said quietly.

"Move?" Chara asked. "And do what?"

"Whatever we can," the other woman said, voice grim. "Whatever we must."

Chara gave a bitter laugh. "Didn't you hear him? They're all dead! For all we know, Leto and Ramora are, too! Oh, Gods... Ramora! What are we supposed to do without her? How are we supposed to fight back, when they've got someone capable of this?"

Leena stepped closer, gathered the linen shirt Chara wore by the front and yanked her up from Esteban. "We fight. Even if we die, we fight. We do not give in. We do not lay down. We never give them that. Not ever. If we cannot save our friends, then we will avenge their deaths, or die trying. That is what we can do. It is all we can do, and what we must do."

Slumping, Chara shook her head. "I... don't know."

"Then whimper and die," Leena snarled, shaking her. "Or take a stand, and give everything to try and hold back the darkness. The choice is yours. Make it now."

"Hey," Esteban warned softly. "Back off."

"No," Leena snapped. "I have no time to coddle you, or her. If our allies lie dead, then it falls to us. It's as simple as that. We can either do all in our power, or cringe and wait for death. I would rather meet my end on my feet, than on my knees. What of you?"

"Give her a moment to grieve," the big Cat shot back.

Leena shoved Chara back. "We don't have time. We can grieve our fallen should we survive today, or surely, we will lie beside them."

Scowling, Esteban pulled Chara closer. "You think we don't get that? All I'm asking is a moment!"

"It's fine," Chara said suddenly, pulling away from him. "She's right. We don't have time for this."

Leena cut her gaze away. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," the other woman said, shaking herself. "Thank you. I'm back. I'm ready. Let's get moving."

"Beloved," Esteban offered, reaching for her.

Chara pushed his hand away gently. "We need to do whatever we can. Leena's right about that. Right now, we need to find out what's happened to the real Untar. As I recall, while we were looking for information on Draco in Imicot's library, there's a spell that lets a sorcerer copy someone’s physical appearance, but the person they're mimicking has to still be alive in order for it to work. That means Untar may well still be in there, and able to help us."