The Cage King (17 page)

The last tie released and the flame shaped itself as it stretched out, two wings of fiery plumage reaching for the sky, the neck arching, a red-orange beak, sharp and lethal, opening to cry a song of freedom, of joy.

It infused him, spread through his limbs, and knowledge lit within him, the ancient knowledge of what he was, and the strength to protect what was his.

Nalah.

‡

T
he wing of
flame surrounded her, pushed back the dark, broke through the deep death magic that crept around her with stealthy paws. Nalah jerked, Aislynn’s voice above her.

“Nalah, answer
me
.” Aislynn still had the bow and arrow at the ready, dividing her attention between Nalah and whatever lay beyond their sight.

“I’m here. Someone’s coming, to help us I think.”

Aislynn’s chest rose and fell in a deep breath, the only outward sign of any emotion. “I hope you are correct.”

The words were no sooner spoken than that giggle again, and from the trees the Pale Lady emerged, and she wasn’t part of the magic, she
was magic
, the wielder of such profane power – power as ancient, as brutal, as undeniable as Tenro, housed in this delicate woman before her. The magic manifested as a black sludge surrounding her, its oily tentacles floating in the air close to her body.

The bowstring drew taut, but no arrow was released. Then another giggle, a whisper of wind, and Aislynn’s bow was broken in two in her hand, a clean slice through the center given by a sharp blade.

The Pale Lady gave a demure laugh, her hand coming to cover her mouth. “My little pet, so loves to play. The two before only whet the appetite.” The voice was high, girly, and held madness the depths of which Nalah had never plumbed. “Elf royalty, a princess? Am I remembering right, or perhaps an ancestor of yours? Time, so little meaning.”

One second the Pale Lady was alone, the next a child – pre-pubescent, twelve, thirteen? Boy, girl? – was kneeling next to her, shapeless clothing, black hair long and straight, covering its face except for the strip down the center, wide enough it showed the black eyes. Eyes that were lifeless, but not in a way that suggested zombie. No, there was no soul in those almond spheres. It was an empty container that existed only to please its master.

The child’s face was blank, pure mask, and it was still as the Pale Lady ran her hand over the hair, its arms hanging at its sides, and on the end of each finger were sharp, thin blades, at least a foot long and too far away to tell if they were placed on the child, or part of the child.

“Where did – it – come from? Did magic bring it here?” Nalah asked Aislynn, who’d dropped the pieces of the bow and now held a short sword.

“No, it moved to her side, so fast I did not see until it stopped.”

That was very bad news, considering how extraordinary elven senses were purported to be.

“Another demonstration, little Magic Breaker? So cute, how you kept fighting me and how you were
so overwhelmed
by all the
bad, scary magic
.” The Pale Lady pushed her lips out and scrunched her face in an exaggerated pout.

To Nalah’s eyes, the child never moved from the silver-haired woman’s side, but Aislynn cried out, a sharp sound she clamped down on. On Aislynn’s chest, four long cuts were gouged into her skin, visible through tattered leather, and a slow seep of blood welled forth and darkened the brown vestment.

The mad woman gave a quick triple clap, like a little girl trying to capture her parents’ attention. “Would you like to know a secret? I despise the color red. I wear it to announce what I am to those inferior, but I dream of the day it goes away, when it no longer splashes around me. Alas, my little pet loves it so, and loyalty deserves reward, don’t you think?”

Aislynn stood, weapon at the ready, her face not betraying any emotion or pain from the ever-seeping wound. And though Aislynn tried to step in front of her, Nalah maneuvered to stand at the elf’s side, though her heart thumped hard inside her chest and unlike the elf, her shakiness was easy for anyone to see. But she would stand, and meet her death without cowering.

Arms encircled Nalah, but there were no blades connected, and the arms were too thick, the chest against her back too broad, to belong to the child.

Within and without, wings of fire, strong in their magic, surrounded her and warmed parts she didn’t know had gone cold in the presence of that mad woman. Nalah shifted, looked to her protector. “Esh?”

His eyes were a brilliant blaze, as if she was staring into the heart of an inferno. He let her go, turned to face their enemies, standing in front of her, magnificent and powerful. His back displayed four deep cuts in his back, cuts that were meant for her and were stitching together even as she watched.

“How?” she whispered, her hand moving to stroke the fast healing skin before she stopped herself. Power pulsated from him, and that piece of innate in him she’d sensed now twisted tight around him, mixed with him so completely it was no longer a separate entity but part of him. And it was
beautiful
, every shade of red and orange represented and a songbird’s melody floating around him. “What is this?”

“Yes, what?” The Pale Lady asked, fake simpering in that voice. “I want to know.”

The child next to the white-haired woman lifted its blade covered hands, and the woman’s tongue came out to swipe along the edge. Her eyes widened in a sickening parody of awe. “Phoenix fire and phoenix blood,” she breathed out, a smile without humanity on her face. Her gaze focused on Esh. “How exciting. I don’t have that in my collection. This means we must play.”

From beyond the Pale Lady the albino emerged. Before, he’d been terrifying, but now, with the vicious power flooding through him, Nalah quailed against the horrific onslaught of magic. She huddled closer to Esh. “He’s been magically enhanced.”

He looked down at her, the expression easy and sure. “I know. I can see. Don’t worry.”

He’d said that to her before so many fights, but he always meant it, and he always won. With that, belief in him calmed her, and with a smile to show her faith in him, she let him fight.

Watching Esh had always roused something in her. He was made to fight, his movements strong and deadly and so decided. There was fear for him, but it was a small undercurrent, barely noticeable amidst her admiration. Instead, she concentrated on the animal grace he exuded as he went after his prey, the muscles bunching with restrained strength and his body sinuous in the way it flexed and spun.

Now, with the phoenix, it went further. He fought as one with his flame, the new power giving a heretofore unknown power to his blows, the flame following each strike to deepen the wound, painting the albino in streaks of blue and black and red, breaking bone and crushing flesh.

The albino once terrified her, but now it was pathetic how it fell before Esh. Esh stepped back as the albino lay on the ground, the body releasing magical vapors. The phoenix lifted its head in a war cry.

The Pale Lady had an intense frown on her face as she stared first at the body, and then toward Esh. “I don’t like this game anymore.”

The black coils of magic surrounding the woman arced out with sudden speed, the ends morphing into the faces of snarling black dogs with rows and rows of white shark teeth, green saliva dripping from their fangs, magic that was visible only to Nalah, but all three fell to the ground as the dogs tore into them.

Pain was her world, but she fought to keep her eyes open because Esh rose beside her, his own magic coming to the fore, his magic in the form of the phoeniex with wings beating fast, the beak sharp and ripping into the black magic, but the multitude of dogs clamped down onto it with fierce jaws, and the bird screeched in fury and pain.

And then…

and then

The world was no longer red or black, but a deep rich green shot with silver. It separated the magics and threw back the dogs. The dogs howled with rage, snapping and growling at the intruder but pulling back all the same.

A wave rolled through – so hot it froze all in its path or such a deep, deep cold it incinerated?

The black tentacles of the Pale Lady circled in long sweeps across the landscape, probing and pausing and when confronted with the wave, jerking back, hesitating in their path before they rushed forth, and the two opposite magics
collided.

And Nalah’s magical shields, battered and bloodied for so long, fell.

‡

W
hat the
fuck
? The pale woman pulled back her attack, and now something else was entering the battle. Esh’s flame settled in him, aware but still. This incoming second power must be connected to someone good, or at least on their side.

Beside him on the ground, Nalah tore at her braids and began screaming, bringing her knees to her chest and rocking her body.

“Nalah!”
He fell to his knees, the elf coming to crouch beside her as well. “Was she hit?”

The elf ran her hands over Nalah’s head, across her still screaming mouth. Nalah seemed unaware, still locked in her mind. “Strong magic can break the minds sensitive to it.” The elf looked up to the pale woman, then around. “And the magics here are some of the strongest of this world.”

Nalah’s screams were interspersed now with sobs, her head moving back and forth. “What can we do?”

The elf shook her head. “I have no skill in this area.”

Esh rose, ready to tear through the pale woman, but the elf grabbed his wrist. “Let
go
,” he said, and the words were a snarl. She may be an ally, but he’d destroy anything to protect Nalah.

“Wait,” the elf replied, and motioned with her head to the path that led to the building.

Down the path came the red-haired woman, the impressive sword in her hand glowing with blood and magic, a veritable inferno of escaping power. The skin of her sword arm was marked with red flames…no, not marked. The flames moved in the skin, reaching up past her shoulder to the edges of her neck.

Rorth moved at her side but traveled some steps behind, enough to let her swing that huge sword without hitting him.

The woman walked straight ahead and never took her gaze from the pale woman. The white-haired woman returned that look, her face twisted and without the previous maniacal glee. The child at her feet hissed at the swordswoman, but clung to the pale woman’s skirt.

The redhead walked without stopping on her journey to the other woman while Rorth went toward the elf. As the swordswoman passed before him, the flame in him rose, and it
bowed
to her.

Beneath him, Nalah’s screams turned to constant whimpers. Ahead of him, the redhead walked until several feet away from the other, the sword steady at her side and the other woman square in her sights.

The look between the two women was as familiar to Esh as the break of bone. It marked bitter enemies, those who would fight without the promise of money or glory, only to feel the pain and humiliation of the other.

The pale woman spoke first, breaking into a simpering smile. “Dragon Slayer.”

“
A Rainha Flor-Cadaver
.”

The pale woman cocked her head and pushed out her lower lip. “You always break up my funnest games. Why can’t I have the phoenix?”

“You wanna play?” The redhead twisted the massive sword with a roll of her wrist, the flames in her skin jumping at the movement. “That’s why I’m here.”

The pale woman’s face lost all artifice, and pure and simple hate shone from her as her eyes rose to the swordswoman’s hair. “I so despise red,” and the words were a curse, spat with deepest loathing. She held up her hand, Nalah’s ring encircling one pale finger. “Tell Reign next time to come himself and not send anything as pathetic as a Skin Dweller to do his dirty work.” And she and the child disappeared, Nalah’s ring and all magic connected to her going with them.

The fire on the redhead’s skin faded until her arm was bare, her power pulling closer, and once she sheathed her sword, Esh felt nothing further from her. She turned, taking them in. “Ais, what’s the story?” She walked towards them, her gaze falling to the slashes across the elf’s chest. “Immediate care?”