Straken (52 page)

Even so, the force of the attack knocked her off her feet and sent her sprawling down the hall, tangled in her black robes. Furious at herself for her inattention and desperate to regain control of the situation,
she sprang up again, but a second explosion immediately knocked her down once more. Pyson was moving toward her by then, leveling a steady barrage of incendiary magic, trying to keep her down long enough to finish her. She rolled and twisted, using the wall to lever herself back to her knees, and launched her own Druid Fire in response. But her efforts were weak and unsustained, and the Gnome kept advancing.

Then Shadea wheeled back, and Grianne was forced to turn her attention to the new threat, lashing out at the sorceress before she had a chance to join the attack. Shadea screamed in fury as the magic of the wishsong knocked her backwards. But Shadea was physically much stronger than Grianne and was quick to regain her balance. Within seconds, Grianne was under attack from two sides.

Just as it seemed that she had exposed herself too quickly and would pay the price for her impatience, Kermadec came charging down the hallway with a second Troll right behind, slamming into a cluster of Gnome Hunters that tried to slow him, scattering the gnarled figures as if they were made of paper. Roaring with a ferociousness that froze the blood, the big Troll went right at Shadea.

But Shadea a’Ru had fought on the Prekkendorran and was no stranger to hand-to-hand combat. Moreover, she was very nearly as strong as the Troll. She met his rush with a howl as ferocious as his own, slipped his grasp, and let his momentum carry him into the wall. Then she wheeled back on him, able to bring her magic to bear now, and sent the Druid Fire burning into him.

Just as she did so, the second Troll came at her, as well. “Kermadec!” he roared in what seemed more a battle cry than a warning.

Down went Shadea a’Ru and the second Troll in a tangled, thrashing knot, rolling over and over on the stone floor. Kermadec was struggling to rise, but Pyson Wence joined the attack and searing Druid Fire slammed Kermadec back against the wall, knocking the breath out of him and leaving his thick hide steaming from the heat. The Gnome struck at him again and again, shouting for his Hunters to move in and finish him.

But Pyson made the same mistake now with Grianne that she had made earlier with him. He forgot about her. She surged to her feet in a white-hot fury, summoned the power of the wishsong, and struck out at him with every ounce of strength she could manage. Sensing his danger, the Gnome turned from Kermadec toward her just in
time to receive the full brunt of the attack. She had a glimpse of his terrified face as he fought to protect himself. For just a second, his defenses held. Then they fell apart, and Pyson Wence simply exploded.

So damaged by the Gnome Druid’s attack that flames were licking at the burned places on his body, Kermadec was trying to get up again. “Atalan!” he called desperately.

Shadea a’Ru broke free of Kermadec’s brother, wheeled away, and went into a crouch. When she came out of it, she was holding a long knife at waist level. Atalan came at her fearlessly, his massive arms reaching out to crush her, but she sidestepped him easily in a practiced, fluid movement and drove the knife hilt-deep into his chest. Atalan sagged from the blow and dropped to his knees, gasping.

Shadea kicked his body aside and turned back to Grianne. Hands lifting, she attacked anew, sending a hail of Druid Fire into her enemy. Grianne was able to fight off the attack, but only barely. The force of it knocked her backwards once more, and she struggled to keep her feet as she sought to defend herself, trying in vain to mount a counterattack.

She felt her defenses crumbling. She felt the heat of the Druid Fire beginning to break through.

Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Kermadec, his great body bloodied and steaming, lurch to his feet. One hand grasped a spear he had taken from one of his Gnome attackers. Bracing himself against the wall, he gripped the spear in one huge fist, set himself, and heaved it at Shadea.

Too late the sorceress realized the danger. She wheeled to protect herself, but the spear caught her in the chest and drove her back against the wall, the force of the throw pinning her fast. Her body jerked and her head snapped back. Her eyes went wide with shock and disbelief. She screamed and flailed, trying to break free. She sprayed Druid Fire everywhere. But the blow was fatal, and a moment later she collapsed and did not move again.

The remaining Gnome Hunters were already in flight, disappearing down the hallway as fast as they could manage. Grianne stood alone among the wounded and the dead. She lowered her hands, dispersed the magic she had summoned to defend herself, and stared at Shadea a’Ru. The sorceress was staring back at her, eyes blank and
unseeing, face twisted in a death mask. Grianne looked away, sickened, then walked quickly over to Kermadec. The big Rock Troll slid down the wall into a sitting position, his chin sunk on his chest. Blood and burned patches were everywhere on his massive body.

She knelt before him and gently raised his head. “Kermadec?” she whispered. “Can you hear me?”

His eyes opened and fixed on her. “Mistress,” he replied, his voice thin and reedy. “I told you they were vipers.”

She bent forward and kissed his face, and then cradled him against her and whispered, “You great bear.”

P
en Ohmsford, his parents, Khyber Elessedil, and Tagwen descended through the corridors of Paranor to the furnace room, then back down along the hidden passageway that led to the outside world. They encountered no one on their way. The silence of the Druid’s Keep was deep and pervasive and gave the false impression that it was deserted save for them.

But once they were outside, they heard the sounds of the battle being fought at the north wall, and although they hadn’t seen the Trolls arrive, they could pretty well guess at what was happening.

“That will give Shadea something else to think about!” Tagwen grunted, a smile on his bearded face. “Kermadec won’t rest until he has the Ard Rhys safely out of there!”

That knowledge seemed to give him some sense of peace, and he quit muttering about how he should be back in the north tower trying to help her. Pen was grateful for that because, given that he was the only one sympathetic enough to permit it, most of the muttering was being done in his ear. While he appreciated Tagwen’s concern for his mistress, he was struggling with his own problems.

Pen was beginning to contemplate in some detail the task that lay ahead of him. He had thought he would be safely out of danger once he returned to Paranor with his aunt, so the news that he must go off and find a changeling demon and confront it with the darkwand
had come as an unpleasant surprise. Once again, he was being asked to do something without being told exactly how he was supposed to do it. Only this time, he was being asked to confront a very dangerous creature. It was one thing to go into the Forbidding and bring back the Ard Rhys, who was ready and willing to come. It was another to force a demon to go back into a place it did not wish to go.

At least he had his parents to help him. And Khyber, as well. They were much more self-possessed and experienced than he was. His father and Khyber had the use of magic, as well. That should give them an edge once they found the demon. Still, it was his responsibility to use the darkwand to return the demon to the Forbidding, and no amount of reassurance could disguise the fact that he didn’t know how to do that.

As they moved away from the base of the cliffs on which Paranor rested, slipping quickly and quietly into the forest toward
Swift Sure
, Pen found himself wondering what demons were like. He hadn’t really seen any in the Forbidding, unless you counted Weka Dart, and he didn’t. The Ulk Bog didn’t seem like a demon to him; he envisioned demons as being something much more fearsome and threatening.

In any case, he didn’t know what he was going to do once he met a real one, but he thought it might be a good idea to figure out something before the moment arrived.

They passed through the trees to the clearing where
Swift Sure
was tethered, climbed up the rope ladder, and set about releasing the anchor ropes. His parents did most of the work, his mother taking the helm and his father working the lines. In minutes they were airborne, lifting away from the woods, rising swiftly into the air. He stood with Tagwen and Khyber at the railing and looked down on Paranor. The north wall of the Druid’s Keep was under attack by huge numbers of Rock Trolls, their size and build unmistakable from any height. The Trolls were spread out all along the wall, but the greatest number were bunched together at the gates, and from the surge pushing inward it seemed clear that the gates had been taken.

Then
Swift Sure
was moving away too rapidly for them to follow the action below any further, and Bek was calling out to Khyber as he moved toward the ship’s bow. The trio moved away from the railing
in response and joined the elder Ohmsford in front of the foremast.

“Will you use the Elfstones now?” he asked Khyber.

“What am I looking for?” She already had the Stones out and was holding them in the palm of her hand. “I don’t know what a demon looks like. I don’t know what sort of creature I ought to tell the Stones to find.”

Perplexed by the problem, they stared at each other in silence for a moment. None of them, after all, had ever seen a demon or had any clear idea of what one looked like. If they didn’t know what they were looking for, how were they supposed to find it?

Then Pen said, “Try holding on to the staff, Khyber. It helped me find Grianne in the Forbidding. If its purpose now is to find the demon, it might help you here.”

He handed her the darkwand, which she took from him and held out in front of her in one hand while gripping the Elfstones in the other, summoning their magic. The moments crept by. Nothing happened.

“It isn’t working,” she said, a hint of panic in her dark eyes.

Pen took the staff back from her. “I guess it only responds to me. Let me try. If it showed me how to find Grianne, it should show me how to find the demon, as well.”

He gripped the darkwand and turned his thoughts to the demon and the Forbidding. Instantly, the runes began to brighten all up and down the length of the staff, their glow soft at first and then building in intensity. When they began to dance off the staff like fireflies, Pen said quickly, “Now, Khyber! Put your hand over mine and use the Elfstones!”

She did so, gripping the staff with her left hand and lifting her right fist to call forth the magic. The response was immediate. The Elfstones brightened like blue fire, their light flooding from between her fingers in brilliant shards and exploding away toward the southwest. The light showed miles and miles of plains and hills, green expanses of grasslands and farms, then tightened to a point where a single airship sailed steadily west across the landscape. The craft was huge, a great warship, its decks thick with the black-and-silver uniforms of the Federation but stripped of any visible weapons. The vision tightened and settled on one man, an imposing patriarch with
flowing white hair and a strong, imperious face, who stood in the pilot box as if to oversee its workings, his arms folded across his chest as he stared off into the distance where the thick forests of the Westland spread away from the broad, gleaming surface of a sunlit lake.

Seconds later, the image flared once and went dark, and the magic faded.

“Sen Dunsidan,” Tagwen declared, loathing in his voice. Then he realized the implications of what that meant. “Shades!” he breathed, his face going pale.

“You’re sure about this?” Bek asked, putting a hand on the Dwarf’s broad shoulder.

Tagwen nodded firmly. “There’s no mistaking him. He’s come to Paranor enough times that I should know. Prime Minister of the Federation, but a snake of the first order. I would have been willing to bet everything I own that he was Shadea’s ally in sending the Ard Rhys into the Forbidding. He’s always hated her, ever since she manipulated him as the Ilse Witch. She made it up to him, but he never forgave her. He isn’t the type to forgive anyone.”