Spellbreaker (37 page)

Leandra sat up fast enough to see Holokai kick the door into the hallway. Outside there were three men. The door struck one, knocked him back. Another raised his hands, and something flashed between them. Holokai thrust his leimako through this blaze and into the man's chest. There was a gurgled cry and then a crash. A second flash came from farther down the hall. Holokai grunted and a spray of blood erupted from his shoulder. He lunged out of Leandra's vision. Another flash, a scream.

Leandra struggled onto her feet. There came two more crashes from the hallway. Her knees ached as she hurried across the room.

In the hallway, she found Holokai standing over three bodies, blood spreading around them. He began stalking down the hall, looking for the next threat. The winehouse fell silent for a moment. Then came hushed voices and footsteps from below. A door slammed. Another silent moment. Only Holokai moved.

A simple ambush then. Thaddeus was to knock her out and the three spellwrights would take Holokai and Dhrun unaware. An underpowered attack. By now anyone else connected with the ambush must have fled the winehouse.

Leandra went back into Thaddeus's room. Dhrun had her former lover pinned, both shoulders locked, facedown, on his bed. So long as she had hold of him, Dhrun's divine touch could disspell any text he might extemporize.

Leandra drew a knife from her belt. “Turn him so I can see his right hip.”

“They didn't give me a choice! Lea—”

Dhrun turned him with her lower arms; with her upper right, she landed an overhand punch on his jaw. His head rocked back and he moaned.

“Who?” Leandra asked as she pulled aside his longvest and used her knife to cut off his belt.

“They wouldn't tell me,” Thaddeus moaned. “They were going to kill me. They cast a Death Sentence on me.”

A death sentence was a spell that wrapped itself around the arteries that supplied the heart with blood. Unless it received continuous signal spells, the Death Sentence would contract, deprive the heart of blood, and kill its victim. Dhrun's touch would have dispelled that text, but there was no need to tell Thaddeus that.

“Lea! I swear I wasn't going to cast that spell on y—” Dhrun struck him again in the face.

“Move him more into the window's light,” Leandra ordered while exposing his hip. A moment later, Dhrun rolled him toward the window. “Fire and hell,” Leandra swore.

On Thaddeus's hip, the skin red and swollen under the ink, was the Perfect Circle tattoo.

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Francesca thought it both ironic and fitting that a goddess of justice should have been incarnated first as a deity of death. Ancient Dhamma—willowy, gray skin, lank white hair, all-white eyes—was just one such goddess.

Justice and death, Francesca thought as she and Nicodemus bowed to Dhamma, wouldn't it be nice if the two were related? Certainly something worth praying for. In the state the Creator had left the universe, death and justice weren't simply unrelated, they had never taken tea together. The bastards.

Why should Francesca's innocent daughter have been burdened with terminal disease, and her noble husband bound to mortality, while she—of demonic origin, angry, fractious, often destructive—had been given such a large dose of immortality?

But no matter, no matter, not right now. That was all philosophy. And Dhamma was not the Creator. She was only the goddess that the ancient Ixonians had prayed to for the wicked to die young, the righteous not at all.

Francesca and Nicodemus finished their bows and straightened. He looked more relaxed since talking to Leandra. The poor fool. Lea must have woven him up in some story. Knowing what her daughter was truly up to weighed on Francesca's heart.

Dhamma returned their bow. They were all kneeling in a private tearoom at the top of the Floating Palace. Outside, evening shadows had painted the lake water nearly black.

The Trimuril had asked that Francesca and Nicodemus remain for an emergency war council. Surprisingly the whole affair had taken only a few hours. Call the Trimuril whatever you like—and Francesca had several choice names in mind—but you also had to call her an efficient ruler.

“My Lord and Lady Warden,” Dhamma said, “thank you for meeting with me. I will not keep you long. There is not much to do until Lady Warden Leandra returns to us tomorrow.”

“We are happy to assist however we can,” Francesca said with a nod. Nicodemus had already agreed that she should do most of the talking. “Has your investigation into the attacks on lesser deities revealed anything more?”

“I'm afraid the god of the Banyan Districts, who was attacked earlier, has gone missing.”

“Was he attacked again?”

“Possibly, but it might be that he is taking protective measures. I don't want to jump to conclusions. I informed the Lady Warden Leandra of this before she departed.”

“Very wise,” Francesca said. “Was this the reason you wished to meet with us?”

“No,” the goddess said with a slight bow. “As perhaps you both appreciate, the Trimuril is currently preoccupied with governing the pantheon. The present threats provide many opportunities for divine infighting. Preventing such will occupy nearly all of the Trimuril's consciousness for days. So she has charged your daughter and me with maintaining law in Chandralu. Before Leandra departed, we agreed that tonight she would keep the peace in the Lower Banyan, the Naukaa, Jacaranda Slope, and Utra Ridge. I should be responsible for the rest of the city. I offered her the assistance of the night watch, which I had intended to double tonight. However, Leandra declined because her investigations will prevent her from governing the watch. She also feared that they would interfere with her investigation.”

Dhamma paused. “Lady Warden Leandra was adamant about her stance. So I briefly discussed the issue with the Trimuril, who suggested that I ask one of you to coordinate the watch in your daughter's portion of the city since she is so preoccupied.”

Francesca resisted the urge to sigh. The wheels of politics turn, they always must. Leandra was keeping the city from interfering with her meeting with the smuggler, but the Trimuril was trying to provide Nicodemus with the means to interfere if anything got out of hand. It was a shrewd move; Leandra couldn't protest the oversight if it came through her father.

Nicodemus frowned. “Goddess, we should be happy to assist. But I am not sure I could direct the watch so they would not interfere with my daughter's plans.”

Francesca shifted her weight. “Perhaps, husband, I could assist you in that regard?”

The goddess nodded. “We would be most grateful.”

“Before we agree, Goddess,” Francesca said, “we should discuss how we might govern the watch.”

“Either one of you would command the watch in any of the guard stations.”

“That would be kind; however, given the need for delicate control, I wonder if we might move command of the watch to our family compound.”

Both Nicodemus and the goddess looked at her. Nicodemus was doing a fairly good job of keeping his expression unreadable, but Francesca could tell he was annoyed that she was making such a political bid without first discussing it with him.

“In fact,” Francesca continued, “the Wardens might be called upon to keep the peace again. Perhaps we should establish a permanent division of the watch in our family compound.”

“And I suppose,” Dhamma asked, “you should like to appoint and maintain these guards yourself.”

To Francesca's surprise, Nicodemus replied: “To be effective, a commander must be sure of his officers. To better serve the Sacred Regent, the captain of our guards might have a seat on the Outer Council. Perhaps you would agree?”

Pleased that he was playing into her maneuvering, Francesca repressed a smile.

Dhamma put her head to one side and froze in brief consultation with the Trimuril. At last she nodded. “The terms are agreeable.”

Nicodemus raised an eyebrow at Francesca to ask if she was satisfied. She showed him her most winning smile and nodded.

Nicodemus grunted. “Very well. One of us will report immediately to our family compound to assume command.” He bowed.

The goddess returned the gesture. “That concludes my concerns. Please don't hesitate to consult me should you require assistance.”

“Thank you, Goddess. Might we use this room before we set off?”

“Of course, take as long as you need.”

They bowed again and the goddess rose and left the room.

“Subrosa?” Nicodemus asked.

Francesca pulled from her belt purse a sheet of paper and cast from it a subrosa spell. In moments, they were surrounded by the sound-deadening paragraphs.

Nicodemus sighed. “All right, Fran, out with it.”

“Out with what?”

He crossed his arms.

“What?”

“You know something.”

“One or two things.”

“Fran.”

“You're the one who spoke to Leandra. You haven't even told me what you learned.”

“Nothing helpful. She believes that the River Thief was wearing her face as a ploy to win devotees who were mistakenly worshiping her.”

“Do you believe that?”

“I can't come up with another explanation. Can you?”

She reached out and took his hand. It wasn't really fair. Nicodemus could touch so few people that he was unduly swayed by physical touch. “Nico, I just want what's best for our family.”

He looked down at her hand. “The two of you are so similar it's frightening.”

“What do you mean?”

“Lea also took my hand when she wanted to blow smoke in my eyes. I let her do it so she wouldn't shut me out.”

“Nico, you shouldn't let her get away with that.”

“Why? So that she could be alienated from both of her parents?”

“She doesn't respect you when you let her get away with things like that.”

“I'm not trying to win her respect, Fran. I'm trying to get her to accept my bloody help before something disastrous happens.”

“And how's that working out for you?”

Nicodemus let go of her hand and pressed his hands to his face. “At least the door is still open.” He dropped his hand and reached for hers, but she withdrew it. He looked up into her eyes. “Fran, please, what do you know?”

“I know enough to keep the city watch from interfering with Lea's investigation.”

“Will you share?”

“We have to keep the watch away from the Lesser Sacred Pool at dusk, but we should keep them close enough in case help is needed.”

“And why must we do this?”

She studied his face but said nothing.

“Fran, why are you withholding this information from me?”

She paused. “I believe that we shouldn't interfere or we might prevent her from gaining some precious information. And … the last time I interfered … well, we both know how that ended up.”

“You don't trust me not to interfere?”

“I don't trust myself.”

That admission shut him up for a moment. “The only reason I played along with your idea of running the nightwatch from our compound is that I told Lea I would try to spend the night there. I'm hoping that she'll come to me with her trouble.”

“Were you going to have her followed so you could know if she gets into trouble?”

“I am considering it, but I haven't yet.”

She smiled. “Perhaps we should have someone near her in case her plans go awry.”

“You're already up to something?”

She changed the subject. “But what are you going to do in the compound other than wait around for Lea to come to you?”

“Well, now there's the nightwatch to command, but I was thinking that I should start writing another metaspell—”

“Nico, that's an excellent idea; I was just thinking earlier about how you should in case Vivian tries something.”

He nodded slowly. “I'm glad you agree. But you're avoiding my question.”

“We should trust our daughter, right?”

“We have trained her well. She's been an excellent Warden so far. Well perhaps not excellent, letting the River Thief escape her for so long. But very good.”

Oh Nico, Francesca thought, how wrong you are there. But should I tell you before I know more?

Nicodemus continued. “Do you know of a reason why we shouldn't trust her?”

Francesca did, but she said, “Give me until tomorrow to tell you everything. I will say that I've discovered Lea has had dealings with a smuggler from the empire. I am not sure of their relationship, but I wanted to give her the chance to meet with him at the Lesser Sacred Pool to see what she might learn. If we interfere, even if we simply make Lea tell us everything, that might spook her and scare off the smuggler. We can't risk that.”

Nicodemus thought about that before nodding. “All right. What are you planning?”

“I won't follow her, but I'll hide near the Lesser Sacred Pool in case something goes wrong.”

“Fran, how do you know that's she's meeting a smuggler?”

“Give me until tomorrow morning? Let's just trust her for tonight.”

He again pressed his hands to his face. “Well … I suppose we can give her tonight at least.” He started to say something more but then stopped.

She squeezed his hand. “Give me until morning.”

“Then I had better leave for Chandralu.”

She kissed his hand. “Thank you, Nico. I'll place my followers in the compound as well. Oh, I have picked up a young demigod. His name is Lolo and the twins will be looking after him. Nothing for you to worry about.”

He frowned at her.

“I'll explain in the morning. Meantime, you have the metaspell to worry about. By the way, what was wrong with you down in the front hall?”

“What do you mean?”

“When I asked Ellen and Rory to work together, you looked like someone poured ice down your pants. Does Rory have some other girl?”