By Blood Betrayed (The Kingsblood Chronicles) (10 page)

“Clever explanation,” purred Jisa, “but inaccurate. The silence was designed so that each operative could hear within each other’s silence. If you had been working together as you assert, you’d have realized that.”

The assassin drew back a half step in alarm, yet was determined to stick to his story. “Milady, perhaps that was the intent, but I can report only what I saw and heard.”

Rishak actually winced. “My beloved designed that spell personally, Alonyu. Were I in your shoes, I wouldn’t presume to question her competence.”

Now Alonyu’s terror lay exposed. “Lord and Lady, I intended no insult. Surely . . . ”

With a dismissive gesture, Rishak interrupted him. “I tire of this. Jisa, he’s yours.” He turned his back on the man to survey the hall.

Jisa smiled, a delicate gesture that momentarily reminded Lian of snow flowers. Then he caught a direct view of her eyes, which displayed a cruelty he’d never noticed in his aunt before.

The Jisad assassin, comprehending his fate, threw his arms out from his sides. From within the sleeves of his robe, short spikes flew toward the closest pair of guards. Before they struck their targets, however, a single note from Jisa shattered them into powder. The distant note, even transmitted through the Artificer-King’s listening tubes, caused all of the metal in the room to reverberate slightly. The weapons of the men nearest the sorceress pealed in sympathetic vibration, causing one soldier to drop his spear.

The guards seized the assassin before he could react; he was stunned by the sudden explosion of iron dust and the thunderous noise resulting from the steel’s clamor. He struggled briefly before his eyes went dull. Jisa was humming a sonorous note, far deeper than Lian would have guessed her range extended. Maintaining the note, she sidled close to her victim, holding a black, obsidian-tipped wand.

As she touched him with it, she released the spell which held him paralyzed and sung a different, harsher song. He had just enough time to register surprise and alarm before his entire body withered and collapsed upon itself.

“Now
there’s
a black spell if ever I heard one,” commented Lord Grey wryly. “Is your aunt enamored of necromancy, by any chance?”

Lian was horrified. It could be reasoned that he owed his life to the greed of the killer and his Trakalan partner, and now the killer had been consumed by some terrible magic inflicted by his aunt. Numb, he shook his head.

“My guess is that is how she stays so young and fresh,” the skull said sarcastically. “They’ll give up on the doors and start looking for you soon, boy. Best get moving.”

Lian shook his head again. “No, I need to hear their plans. We’ll move on in a moment.”

I hate to admit it, Lian, but I think he’s right
, Gem commented mentally.
When they give up on the doors, they’ll concentrate their magic on finding you. And though we are probably safe here, they’ll intercept you when we leave.

So I’ll just go through a door they can’t open, and that’ll be that
, he replied.

The inner doors aren’t likely to be as impervious to magic as the outer walls, Lian. They’ll be able to pierce them or perhaps go around them.

He sighed.

“I wish you two would stop that,” Lord Grey said. “It’s very rude.”

Lian started. “Stop what?”

It was Lord Grey’s turn to sigh. “Mental communication. At least learn to conceal the signs from your face and body. No doubt, the Lady Sword agrees with my assessment. They’ll be advancing through the upper levels of the Tower soon, searching for a way out.

“And there
are
ways out, despite the Sealing,” Lord Grey finished ominously.

So do we take him along
? asked Gem.

Lian shrugged and answered aloud, “Yes, we do. Elowyn won’t have steered us wrong.”
I hope
, he thought to himself.

Chapter Five

“Firavon the Artificer-King is considered by most to be one of the greatest Theocrats, if not the greatest. His power alone raised the great Tower which bears his name, and his reign lasted for one hundred and eighty-three years, far longer than any other ruler in the entire history of the Theocracy. His accomplishments cannot easily be counted, and the books he wrote were reputed to have contained some of the fundamental secrets of Creation itself. His ultimate fate is not known, for he disappeared from his quarters one night without a trace.”

-- From “A History of the Theocracy of Krysa” by the Sage Alionur

Gem hummed a few notes of power, surrounding her charge with a ward against possession.

“That isn’t necessary,” pronounced Lord Grey with a trace of humor in his voice. Neither one bothered to respond.

Spell in place, Lian picked up the skull with his gloved right hand. Even through the leather, he could feel the slick sensation unique to items highly charged with magic. Despite the duration of the skull’s residence in the pigeonhole, there was no dust behind it, nor cobwebs. He gently placed Lord Grey on the table top.

The skull seemed to sigh, his relief evident. “You have no idea how long I have been in that dreadful slot. I am grateful to you for taking me with you. For this, I assure you that you’ll have no trouble from me.”

“I’m afraid I have only your word on that,” Lian replied, removing a coarse linen bag from his pack and holding it up in front of the skull. “Will you find it offensive to ride in a sack?”

Lord Grey chuckled, “I’ve been subjected to far worse, Your Highness. No, I won’t be insulted. You need your hand free.”

Lian maneuvered the skull into the sack, not the easiest of tasks with one arm, and asked, “Is there any hope that you’ll hold your tongue while we’re on the move?”

Lord Grey didn’t respond.

“Lord Grey?” Lian asked after several moments.

“I was taking a last look around before leaving this place, Highness. It holds many unpleasant memories for me,” Lord Grey replied from within the sack. His voice wasn’t muffled in the least.

I don’t buy that
, Gem said.
Tell him to be quiet
. She suspected that Lian’s question had invoked a binding.

No, I’d rather not antagonize him. I suspect he’s compelled, but I’ll be polite about it.
He said, “Lord Grey, are you bound in more than one way?”

The skull sighed again. “I said you’re perceptive. Yes, you can command my silence. There are other bindings, but I trust you’ll forgive me if I fail to describe them at this time.”

“No problem, sir,” Lian replied. “I prefer not to use compulsions, anyhow.”

“Because you don’t have the magical ability to impose them, no?” surmised Lord Grey.

Lian shook his head. “No,” he replied, not bothering to deny the accusation. “If you’ve been silenced, is there any way you can initiate conversation?”

“No. I’m compelled to remain dumb. Just don’t abuse the privilege,” he said.

“I won’t, Lord Grey,” he promised, his tone respectful as he addressed the skull. “Can I, um, command you to make the decision whether to speak if I have already given the order to remain silent?”

Despite the fact that the skull had no eyes, not to mention that he was also in a sack, Lian clearly imagined its narrowed eyes. “Why would you want to do that?”

“For example, what if you possess vital information, and I’ve unintentionally silenced you because I merely wanted your volume lower? I’d prefer that you have the choice of speech or silence.”

Lian, what are you doing
? asked Gem worriedly.
You may need to silence him.

Trust me. I know a little of bindings. I doubt that this one has any flexibility in interpretation, particularly by him
, Lian replied to the sword.

Gem performed the mental equivalent of a blink. His guile surprised her.

“Well, Highness, I appreciate your confidence in my judgement, but you simply must be specific in your requests to me about silence,” Lord Grey said after a moment of thought. “The one who bound me was not inclined to place such modifiers on my enchantments.”

“Who bound you, if I may ask?”

“You may ask, young prince. However, I will not answer. That would, I think, be tantamount to revealing my identity.”

“So you aren’t compelled to answer me?”

“No.”

“Are you compelled to answer truthfully should you choose to reply?” Lian asked.

“No to that as well, which confirms the answer as true, does it not?” Lord Grey said. “May I remind you that we don’t really have time for you to interrogate me about my history right now, Highness? We should be on our way.”

How does that confirm his answer
? asked Gem.

Because if he’s telling the truth, the answer really is no, and if he’s lying, he’s confirmed that he can lie
, Lian responded lightly.
Either way, he can lie, and this is something I needed to know before I could proceed.

Ah. I don’t recall you being this smart, boy
, Gem said.

Are you kidding
? Lian asked her, thinking of his encounter with the goddess. Could she have somehow influenced or expanded his mind?

What do you think? Don’t get a swelled head, you won’t fit through the doors
.

Lian collected his pack and placed Lord Grey’s sack inside of it. Shrugging it on gingerly, he managed to get the straps over both shoulders. “Let’s go. I believe Elowyn indicated that up was a possible a way out, though I don’t quite understand how it could be.”

“I would imagine that he probably intended for you to enlist the service of one of the flying beasts that can be found on the higher levels. You will be glad to have me along, I am quite sure, before this is done,” said Lord Grey.

The prince retraced his steps to the exit of the scrying chamber, where he hesitated with one last, longing glance at Firavon’s fantastic spying device. Privately, he vowed that one day he would return to learn more of it.

As he exited the scrying chamber into the Waterhall, he could hear chanting far below. The Undead rats were excitedly making their way downward, hoping the noise represented food. Where previously they had looked askance at Lian, now they ignored him completely.

Lord Grey said softly, “I’ve woven a cloak about you, Highness. Most of the Undead cannot see you now unless they have been somehow directed against you.”

Lian wondered how he’d managed such sorcery without intoning any spells. It occurred to him that perhaps the ability was a function bound into the enchantments of the skull itself. If Lord Grey were indeed an aid to necromancy, as he suspected, that would have been a practical magic to add to the spell’s enchantments.

Stay alert
, he reminded himself, laying aside his speculation about the skull and it powers for later consideration.

He took stock of his physical situation. His left shoulder was still completely numb, but the area around the joint was starting to throb in pain. He hoped this was a good sign.

As they trekked upward, he kept Gem unsheathed in his right hand, but the hideous creatures of the Tower seemed to ignore him for the moment, as Lord Grey had predicted.

On two occasions, Gem and Lord Grey both urged him to detour, their arcane senses perceiving unearthly danger.
Demons are loose in here, too, lad
, Gem cautioned along their bond,
and I won’t be much assistance against them except where my edge is concerned.

What about the power you took from me earlier?
Lian asked.

It wasn’t much. Elowyn never was a great magician
, Gem replied.
I drew only enough for one or two minor spells. I wouldn’t be expecting anything fancy like battle magics.

At length, they drew even with the upper bridge, three quarters of they way up the height of the Tower. During the time it had taken them to climb the long spiraling ramp, one of Rishak’s mages had magically ascended the open space in the center of the Tower.

The unfortunate man had encountered one of the demonkind, and in his struggle had no attention to spare for Lian, stealthily concealed in a passageway. The mage hovered in mid-air, surrounded by a blue-white shield that flashed reddish energy with every pass of the demon. He was chanting rapidly, sustaining his defensive magics. His tenor voice was almost cracking in fear.

From far below, a lightning bolt crackled upward to strike the demon, a hugely muscled man-shaped creature with long, blade-like claws. The bolt did not harm the creature, in fact it did little more than distract it; however, the demon bellowed with rage and dove toward the second mage. At the temporary reprieve, the first mage sighed in relief, stabilized his defensive magics, then descended cautiously, hoping to employ a mortal magical shot against the demon.

While all three were thus occupied, Lian took the opportunity to duck back into the corridor and continue his ascent. Pitching his voice as low as he could manage, he asked, “How many of those things are running around loose up here, Lord Grey?”

Lord Grey considered the question for a moment, then answered so quietly that Lian had to strain to hear his words, “What we just saw was probably one of the ward demons. I suspect that the first mage was searching for a way out of the Tower. You shouldn’t have as much trouble.”

“I hope not,” said Gem, just as quietly. “That hideous thing was a Third Order demon, at least.”

“Fifth, actually,” replied Lord Grey. “It is, I believe, a minor noble of its sort. The two who are battling it had better be first rank battle mages, or they’ll be dinner.”

“I was under the impression that you are a necromancer,” said Lian. “How do you know so much about demons?”

Lord Grey said, “I have served dark magicians of one sort or another for a very long time, Highness. Let’s just say that I’ve seen that kind of demon before.”

Lian wasn’t satisfied with the skull’s perfunctory explanation, but ignored it for the time being. Here in the upper quarter of the Tower were signs of the final defenders’ struggle against the rebel army. Scattered about were statues of men clothed in robes and others clad in armor. Many were shattered, but some were surprisingly intact, and amazingly detailed.