The Shadowmage Trilogy (Twilight of Kerberos: The Shadowmage Books) (68 page)

The lightning storm ceased with the death of her body, leaving the chamber eerily silent. Lucius became aware of Elaine shaking him. Looking up the twin corridors, he saw the two cowled figures advancing smoothly, as if floating a few inches above the ground.

“I can’t fight them,” he gasped. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

Heinrich had already hurled a knife at one of the cabal wizards, but the blade had winked out of existence as it spun through the air, not even passing the length of the chamber.

Another pulse, yet stronger than before, hammered Lucius and he reeled, clutching his head as pain lanced through his mind. He looked at Elaine through hazed eyes.

“The portcullis is jammed,” Elaine shouted, her voice seeming to come from a far distance. “We can’t go back.”

“Distract...” he managed to say, but the assassins understood immediately.

Heinrich readied his sword and sprinted towards one of the cabal wizards. Elaine went to follow him, but Lucius grabbed her shoulder. He saw her glance at Heinrich, but he gripped harder, turning her around as he reached out with his other hand, summoning the energy to build his spell. The fog clouding his mind suddenly vanished, and his vision returned with renewed clarity. Lucius knew that Heinrich had succeeded in distracting the cabal wizards for a brief moment. He also knew the assassin was already dead.

With a ragged breath, he drew in air and concentrated, drawing the magical energies he needed to him, conscious that he had but seconds before the wizards behind recovered from whatever Heinrich had done. He formed a blast of energy and sent it streaming toward the portcullis, but collapsed with the effort. He heard Elaine’s desperate cries as she threw her weight against the shattered portcullis.

Lucius heard a crash of metal, then Elaine was with him, hauling him to his feet. He stumbled forward, then felt her stop.

“Heinrich...” she said.

“He’s dead.”

Elaine froze in place, and Lucius saw her look back, though whether it was to seek vengeance or try a desperate rescue, he could not say.

“Don’t be a fool,” Lucius said. “He’s dead.”

“Then they die too,” she said.

“Elaine, we’ve got to go now. Too much depends on you. Remember the guild!”

“I don’t care about that.”

Lucius looked at her, fear and desperation on both their faces.

“Yes you do.”

Still she hesitated. He grabbed her around the waist and dragged her through the portcullis.

“For God’s sake, Elaine, we leave now!”

For the briefest moment Elaine resisted, then a shadow seemed to fall over her. Her face grew steely; Lucius felt sorry for the next soldier they met.

Behind him, sorcerous energies began to escalate again, poured into a spell of devastating proportions. The thieves fled back up the corridor, and to the spiralled staircase up to the keep’s dungeons. Lucius pushed Elaine into the recess and made sure she was climbing before he cast a look over his shoulder.

Pursuing them down the corridor were several cowled figures. No longer floating serenely, he could see them running with desperate speed as they saw their victims escaping. One flicked a hand in an elaborate gesture, and a tiny red spark shot unerringly toward Lucius.

Sensing the power contained within the little spark, Lucius threw himself up the stairs, his legs pumping as he mounted the steps two at a time. He felt the spark build vastly in intensity, and then a thunderous crash blasted behind him just inside the corridor. The dark staircase was lit up in a brilliant orange as flames clawed up the stairs, eager to consume him.

Yelling at Elaine to move faster, he scrambled up the stairs, feeling the heat licking at his boots and cloak. Dust scoured from the walls by the blast was driven up before the flames, and Lucius began to choke as his vision was clouded. Stumbling, he felt his way up the stairs.

The flames receded as the spell subsided. Not wanting to see what the cabal would do as a follow-up, Lucius hurried up the staircase.

Elaine was waiting for him in the underground warehouse. She was bent over, hands on her thighs as she struggled to regain her breath. Looking up as he approached, also gasping for air, Elaine gave him a poisonous look.

“Bastards,” she said, and Lucius had the unnerving thought that she blamed him for the loss of Heinrich.

He thought of all the things he could say to her – apologies, sympathies, even an attempt at reconciliation – but dismissed them all.

“We have to go,” he said. “They’re still following. I can feel them.”

“They are too powerful for you to fight?” It could have been a jibe at his skill with magic, or it might have been an honest question. Lucius pushed the thought from his mind.

“I can’t face them directly, but I think there is one thing I can do that, if nothing else, will cause them a great deal of frustration.”

Elaine gave him a strange look, but followed him as he ran through the lines of stacked crates to the entrance of the warehouse. Stopping at the door, he gestured for Elaine to get behind him.

“Two birds, as they say...”

Feeling the magic surging within him again, Lucius drew the energies together into a jagged bolt of light. With a push of his mind, he sent it lancing toward one of the columns supporting the high ceiling of the warehouse.

The column blew apart under the pressure of the spell, sending chunks of stone spiralling into the furthest recesses of the warehouse. For a brief second, nothing happened, then came a deep, low, vibrating rumble that seemed to emanate from the keep itself. Sacks of grain tumbled from their piles and crates crashed to the floor.

“Now, we really
do
have to go,” Lucius said, taking Elaine’s arm and pulling her away from the warehouse, retracing their steps into the dungeons.

Behind them, cracks appeared in the ceiling of the warehouse, thin slivers at first, but rapidly growing into wide gashes that streaked across the open spaces between the remaining columns. Rock and earth rained down from the ceiling as the entire warehouse began to shake violently. An ear-splitting crack resounded throughout the lower levels of the keep as the ceiling finally gave way under the pressure of the keep above.

Tons of rock and debris crashed down into the warehouse, instantly flattening everything within.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

T
HIEVES AND ASSASSINS
flooded the Citadel, presiding over a reign of terror and death as they took revenge on their oppressors. The assassins remained focussed, locating targets of value and importance and sending them to hell with blade, bolt and arrow. The thieves freed by Lucius and Elaine were less selective. They killed anyone they met, be they official, soldier or servant.

Some, the most experienced and the most terrified, kept their heads enough to follow Lucius and Elaine out. Others rampaged through the keep on a killing spree.

Lucius could do nothing for them. He had given them all a chance for survival and escape; their lives were now in their own hands.

Spilling out onto the bridge between the keep and one of the towers lining the Citadel, Lucius and Elaine found themselves at the head of a mob of the most desperate, those who had seen enough of Vos cruelty and just wanted the freedom of the city. Some had managed to snatch up weapons from defeated soldiers, and a couple had grabbed shields as well, but most were unarmed.

A small group of assassins and thieves had taken up position on one of the walls, holding back squads of soldiers on both sides to protect the ladders and ropes they had deployed down the Citadel wall. Their outlines were barely visible in the soft glow of burning buildings in the city, set against a black sky. No cheers of relief came from the men he led, however; stretched across the bridge, they saw the soldiers of the Order of the Swords of Dawn waiting for them.

The Swords, immaculate in their white tabards, were motionless, and their demeanour radiated discipline, halberds held aloft in perfect ranks.

Lucius cast a glance at Elaine, his eyebrows raised. She shrugged.

“Nothing else for it,” she said, turning back to face the rabble of thieves behind her and raising her voice. “We either fight our way through the Faith’s so-called elite soldiers, or we retreat, and die in the Citadel. What say you?”

That brought a ragged cheer from the thieves, albeit half-hearted. Not one of them doubted the efficiency of the Swords.

Raising her sword aloft, Elaine marched forward, and Lucius kept pace by her side. After ensuring the thieves were following her, Elaine picked up her pace, first jogging, and then sprinting as they charged the line.

The Swords of Dawn did not so much as twitch their halberds before the baying horde’s onslaught. They simply waited for the thieves to hit their line, where their training would ensure short work of the desperate charge.

Lucius cursed, having hoped their line would at least begin to soften and drift apart as they received the charge, allowing some thieves to break through and begin a general brawl. Able to get a soldier on his own, two or more thieves had a chance, but fighting like a disciplined military unit gave all the advantages to the Swords. If they would not break, he would have to force them.

A dozen yards from the Swords’ line, Lucius skidded to a stop and dropped to one knee. He thumped a fist to the bridge’s stone surface, flooding the area before him with magical energy, pouring it into a wave that rolled inexorably forward.

Few thieves saw the shimmering wave, glinting with a dull sheen as it sped towards the Swords, but they cheered with sudden elation as the centremost guards reeled back, pushed by the hand of a giant. Those who had taken the brunt of the wave flew backwards into the ranks behind them, while those on the periphery staggered, some dropping their weapons as the thieves hit the disrupted line.

Weak after directing such a powerful spell so quickly, Lucius tried to make his way back to Elaine’s side, but the mob of thieves swept past him. He saw them crash into the line, and their momentum tore the Swords’ formation in two as the centre completely buckled under their charge.

He was aware that those hitting the flanks fared less well, with many being cut down by a sweeping halberd before they had a chance to throw a fist or strike a blow. Most in the centre turned on the guards nearest them with a rare fury, hitting them in the sides and rear, though a few kept on running for the safety of the city. Lucius could not find it in his heart to blame them, though he wished they had stayed to finish the fight.

A stocky knight bawled orders at his men, and the Swords’ formation, though broken in two, suddenly became rigid, the soldiers at the front of the fight steeling themselves to face the thieves. Halberds began to swing again, and men and women started to fall beneath their heavy axe-heads.

Lucius pushed his way through the mob of thieves, trying to reach the centre of the fight, hoping to break the line again and reach the knight. With him dead, the Swords’ morale might be shaken enough for the thieves to regain an advantage. Elaine had already seen this possibility, and Lucius watched as she railed against the soldiers, ducking their slicing halberds, and thrusting her swords past their clumsy parries. An upswing from a soldier drove the shaft of his halberd into her stomach, and then clipped her across the chin. Elaine reeled back in shock and pain.

Seeing this, Lucius grew frantic, desperately clawing his way through thieves to reach her. He heard another hollered order from the knight, and the soldiers closest to him surged forward as those behind closed in, trying to crush the thieves between them in the shattered centre.

Hefting his dagger, Lucius tried to throw it at the knight, but the thieves were being hemmed in tighter and tighter, and there was not enough room to cast it properly. The blade went wide, disappearing behind the knight to fall into the compound far below.

That gave Lucius an idea.

Side-stepping a halberd thrust at his chest, Lucius stabbed forward with his sword, gouging a deep cut in his attacker’s forearm. As the halberd dropped to the floor, Lucius stepped under the soldier’s guard and drove his knee into man’s stomach. He grasped the soldier’s elaborate tabard, then shouted over his shoulder to the thieves.

“Grab them! Push them over the edge!”