Veilspeaker (Pharim War Book 2) (17 page)

“It’s nothing. I just got caught by the wards. I’m
fine.”

“We should hurry,” Lina said. “It’ll be up for less
than a minute.”

Jez nodded and stumbled into the passage. Osmund
helped him walk and Villia came in right behind him. Shortly after, the door
slid down, leaving them in a long hall, not quite wide enough for two of them
to walk side by side. Osmund cried out, causing Jez to jump.

“Sorry,” Osmund said. “I ran into a spider web.”

“They’re all around here,” Lina said. “I lost count of
how many I ran into on the way out.” She grinned, and it looked odd in the
light of her glowing sphere. “I didn’t quite catch the ones that high up
though.” Osmund laughed, and she joined him. Then, as if realizing what she was
doing, she turned away, her hand going to the scar on her cheek. “Let’s go.
It’s this way.”

The corridor wound back and forth, and they walked for
almost a half hour, Osmund constantly complaining about spider webs, before
they came to a staircase up. They found another raised stone, and Lina pulled
it. The wall near them slid aside and they found themselves looking into a cell
in the lower level of the dungeon. Jez couldn’t be sure, but he thought it was
the same one he’d found Lina and Varin in. They stepped into it and the door
slid closed behind them.

“Okay, we’re inside,” Osmund said. “What do we do
now?”

“We save my father,” Lina said.

“That’s not the most important thing here,” Osmund
said.

“No, but it is the easiest,” Jez said. “He’ll be in
the level above us. We’ll free him, and you can escape through the passage.”

Lina nodded. Osmund looked like he was going to say
something, but instead only shrugged. They went up, careful to watch for any
guards, but the prison seemed empty. They found Varin without too much trouble,
though he looked little like the man who’d so often stood against Jez in the
political arena. His features were gaunt, and he groaned as they approached.
When Lina saw him, she gasped and ran forward, tugging on the bars.

“Oh father, what have they done to you?”

“Lina?” His voice came out in a rasp almost too soft
to be heard.

“I’m here, Father,” she said through tears. “I’m sorry
I left you. I’m here now.” She turned to the others. “What are you waiting for?
He needs help. Get him out of here.”

Jez turned to Osmund and nodded. The other boy mumbled
something under his breath. Ziary shimmered into existence just long enough for
him to cut through the bars to Varin’s cell. The man still barely seemed to
notice until Lina went into his cell and embraced him. Osmund helped him to his
feet and back down to the lower level. This time Lina found the entrance with
no difficulty and smuggled her father inside. Osmund summoned a ball of fire as
she stepped into the passage, taking her light with her.

“I won’t be able to help you anymore,” Jez said.
“You’re on your own.”

Lina nodded. “Thank you,” she said as she disappeared
down the corridor.

“We should go to my tower first,” Villia
said. “I left certain supplies in my quarters that may be of some use, not to
mention my personal library. I started looking through it when this whole thing
started, but more eyes will certainly help.”

“Can we get there without being seen?”

“I can craft an illusion that would keep us hidden,”
Villia said. “The king might have wards up against that sort of thing, though.”

“We’ll have to try it anyway. Lead the way.”

Villia nodded and raised her hand. The room darkened,
though the ball of fire above Osmund’s hand seemed brighter. They climbed the
stairs into the keep. To Jez’s surprise, no one stood guard over the door to
the prison. In fact, the entire keep was unnervingly empty. There were a few
guards patrolling, but none came near them. There were no servants at all and
only once did Jez see one of the nobility, a tall man who had long ago lost his
hair. Even he was constantly looking over his shoulder until he entered a room.
A couple of times, Villia felt wards woven around a particular area, and they
had to find a way around it.

Finally, they reached the base of the southern tower
and started up. They were two floors up before Villia let the illusion fall,
though they still moved quietly. They had just passed the fifth floor when
Villia paused and cocked her head. She went down a few steps to the door that
led to the main hall on the floor and placed her hand on it

“Well, that’s unexpected,” she said.

“What is it?” Jez asked

“There’s an illusion here. A good one.”

Jez rolled his eyes. “This is your tower. I’m sure
there are a lot of illusions here.”

Villia shook her head. “I’ve been wandering the earth
for longer than you can imagine. When I leave a place, I leave no sign than an
afur was ever there. I took down all my illusions, but this feels like mine.
It’s probably why I never noticed it before.”

“So you missed one.”

Villia snorted. “Don’t be foolish. Even rushed, I
would never make such a mistake.”

She moved a few steps back down to the door. Jez let
out a breath. “Do we really have time for this?”

Villia turned to look at him. “Someone has been
crafting major workings. You’ve twice been wrong about who that was. Don’t you
think it’s important to investigate who is crafting illusions good enough to
nearly fool a pharim who specializes in them?”

“But you’re not a pharim,” Osmund said.

She let out a slow breath. “Not in any way that
matters, but I do still know illusions. This one is no insignificant working.”

“What’s on this floor?”

“A few supply rooms, nothing of any importance. Spare
quarters to house any of my guests.” She went silent for a second and met Jez’s
eyes. “And Sharim’s room.”

Jez’s opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t think
of what to say. Osmund was shaking his head. Villia ignored them and pushed
open the door and strode in, forcing the two of them to hurry to catch up.

“You don’t really think it might be Sharim, do you?”
Jez asked. “I mean he’s so...” he fumbled for words.

She nodded. “We don’t know who made this illusion. For
all we know, it could’ve been the king intending to throw people off his
trail.”

“Is he skilled in illusions?”

“Not as far as I know, but it’s possible.”

They walked down the hall before stopping before a
plain wooden door. Villia extended her hand and nodded but didn’t open the
door.

“Sharim’s room?” Jez asked.

Villia nodded. Jez took a deep breath and pushed open
the door. The room beyond looked ordinary. The only piece of furniture was a
bed that seemed barely wide enough for the apprentice to sleep in. The blankets
were scrunched up at one end, and a book Jez recognized from his time at the
Academy rested in the center of the bed. He picked it up and showed it to the
others. It was a beginner’s guide to illusions.

“Why would he have this?” Jez asked. “I’ve seen him.
He’s no beginner.”

“Perhaps to throw off suspicion. Things here are not
what they seem.”

Villia lifted her arms and her eyes glowed violet. For
a second it looked like nothing would happen. Then, the room shimmered. The
smell of sulfur flooded in, and the ceiling shed blue light. Jez looked up and
gasped.

A circle of runes glowed in the ceiling. Jez
recognized the combination as a binding circle, one more powerful than any
working he had ever crafted without tapping into Luntayary’s power. A being
clothed in sapphire robes sat chained in bands of light. He was kneeling on the
ceiling as if it were the floor.

“Jez,” Osmund said in a quiet voice. “Look at his
sword.”

The blade hanging from the beings hip was made of
crystal. Jez stared at it, not able to believe what it meant, but with the
illusion dispelled, he could feel the power emanating from the blade. There was
only one type of being in all of creation that had one of those.

“That’s a Shadowguard.”

The circle holding the Shadowguard was
immensely complicated, weaving runes in combinations Jez could scarcely
imagine. It even seemed to draw power from the stone itself, a thing Jez had no
idea how to achieve. He was still years away from being able to craft a working
even remotely close to this, but fortunately for him, destroying was far easier
than creating. He gathered his power and threw it into the circle. A triangle
with a horizontal line through it sputtered and went dark as cracks spread
through the stone. The pharim raised its head and looked down at them. He extended
his wings. The runes glowed, but the one nearest him brightened briefly and
went out. One by one, the light coming from the other runes flared before dying
until the circle had gone dark. The pharim extended his wings and launched
himself from the ceiling, turning in the air to land on his feet between Jez
and the bed. He stood up straight, showing signs of neither injury nor fatigue,
but of course, he wasn’t human. Even his body was more a reflection of his will
than an actual physical form.

The Shadowguard’s deep blue eyes focused on Jez.
“Thank you.”

“You’re the one set over Maries?”

“I am Shamarion, and you are Luntayary.”

Jez blinked. “You know about that?”

Shamarion inclined his head. “Sariel told us of your
fate. We are to treat you as a mortal, and not involve ourselves in your
affairs unless you involve yourself in ours.” A smile crept across the pharim’s
face. “I take it that by your presence here that you know of Maries and have
decided to oppose him.” Jez nodded and Shamarion spread his wings. “I look
forward to fighting by your side again, Luntayary.”

“You mean we’ve fought together before?”

“Of course. When the foundations of the world were
being laid, we worked to banish the demons from this realm.”

Osmund gaped at him. Villia smiled, but the expression
faded when Shamarion glared at her. Jez cleared his throat. “Yeah, I don’t
really remember that.”

“Ah yes, Sariel said he’d locked away your memories.
Well, it’s only a temporary matter, and you’ll be back among us soon.”

Jez blinked. Sariel had promised he would be allowed
to live his life. “I will?”

“Of course. Surely no more than sixty or seventy
years. Perhaps eighty at the most.” He smirked, and Jez let out a sigh of
relief. “I suspect it will be considerably less if you continue to involve
yourself in matters like this. They are, after all, quite dangerous, but then I
can’t really blame you. It must be so tedious to go about in mortal form.”

“Um, that’s not really the point.”

“No, of course not. My charge has been loosed upon the
world. I need to bind him again.” He turned to Jez’s companions. “The mongrel
can be useful, but I see no reason to take the traitor with us.”

Osmund stiffened. “Mongrel?”

Shamarion turned to him with a raised eyebrow. “It is
an accurate term, is it not? You are neither fully human nor fully pharim. I
meant no offense by it.”

“The more polite term is limaph,” Jez supplied.

“Half-breed?” Shamarion wrinkled his nose as if
smelling something unpleasant. “That’s not accurate at all. He is far less than
half pharim.”

The response caught Jez off guard. “You mean limaph is
a word in some other language? Which one?”

“Tirantian,” Villia said. “It’s been perhaps three
thousand years since anyone spoke it.”

“No one asked you, traitor,” Shamarion said.

“Actually, I did,” Jez said. “Or at least I asked
anyone who knew. Look, can you just call him a limaph? It can’t be wrong if no
one even speaks the language anymore. Better yet, call him Osmund.”

Shamarion thought about that for a second, and
inclined his head to the limaph. “Forgive me for my careless words, Osmund.”

Osmund looked at Jez who only shrugged. The larger boy
looked unsure of himself. “Okay. I forgive you.”

“Excellent. Shall we go deal with this mage and banish
Maries?”

“Just one second,” Jez said. “Who was the mage?”

“A boy, though he seemed to have much more power than
one of his age should. I underestimated him. I only hope we can stop him from
enacting his plan.”

“It was Sharim, then, but he already enacted his plan.
Maries is free.”

Shamarion shook his head. “Maries was only the
beginning of the plan, and he can only call so much of his army at one time.
Unless he wants to spend a year summoning them, he’ll need help. The mage wants
to create gateways throughout the city and use those to summon the whole of
Maries’s army. With enough, he can bring them through in a single day.”

“Is he strong enough to do that?” Jez asked.

“Not alone, but I do not know if he has allies.”

“Do you know where he would be?”

“Such a circle would require a place of power.”

“The throne room,” Villia said. Shamarion sneered at
her, but she continued. “If Sharim has taken control of the king, he may be
able to use the power of the royal magic.”

“The traitor may be right.”

“Can you stop calling me that? I’m trying to help.”

“Will your help make it so you never turned away from
your duties and rebelled? You are what you are.”

“She’s coming with us,” Jez said.

“Luntayary, I don’t know.”

“If Sharim was able to bind you, we’ll need all the
help we can get.”

“I think it’s a bad idea, but as always, I will submit
to the will of those set above me. It will be as you command, Luntayary. With
your permission?”

Jez nodded and Shamarion drew his sword and walked out
the door. Jez started to follow, but Osmund grabbed his arm.

“Did you know you outranked him?”

Jez shrugged. “I had no idea.”

Shamarion didn’t bother to go around
the wards. He walked straight through them, disabling them as he entered.
Before long, a group of soldiers ran at the party. Shamarion waved a hand and
azure sparks flew forward. One hit each soldier, hey stopped in their tracks
and looked around. One asked where he was, but Shamarion just continued past
them.