By Blood Betrayed (The Kingsblood Chronicles) (11 page)

There were several creatures, in addition to a variety of spells, which could transform a man into stone, and Lian prayed that the figures he beheld had not been caused by permanent wards. Many of the petrification spells left the victim with assorted degrees of awareness, and he’d read that the sensation of being eroded away by time was excruciating.

Continuing up the curving outer ramp, he noted that the number of petrified men was increasing. Many were still locked in poses of battle, while others had fallen over.

“A Great Mage died up here,” commented Lord Grey.

“How do you know that, Lord Grey?” asked Lian.

“This many casualties represents more magic than one person could safely cast, Highness,” he replied. “I suspect that this is a result of a deathstrike dealt by one of the more powerful Tower sorcerers. Destroying himself completely in the casting of one last spell might have appealed to him as a more attractive alternative than continuing on to his afterlife, if that was what he thought he was doing, anyhow.

“You cannot actually avoid your afterlife; you can merely postpone it.”

Lian glanced back toward the pack. “I won’t ask how you know that.”

Lord Grey, predictably, didn’t answer him.

The ramp passed one last great hall, a singular one in this case, the final passage into the inner space of the Tower. It was carved with elemental scenes, like the entryways onto the four lower bridgeworks.
I wonder if there are concealed halls for the other three elements up here somewhere
, Lian speculated to himself as he gazed at the compellingly beautiful earth scenes of this fifth and final Earthhall. The lack of symmetry at this level bothered him, for Firavon had been enamored of the architectural concept.

The Great Doors entered the Tower from the south through the Earthhall, and the ramp began there. The ramp then circled counterclockwise past the Firehall, then the Airhall, and finally the Waterhall before beginning its ascent. When the ramp eventually crossed the first bridgeworks, actually the second set of elemental hallways, it first encountered the Firehall, then Air, then Water, and then Earth. When it climbed to the point where it crossed the bridgework that concealed the scrying chamber, precisely halfway up the six-hundred yard Tower, it first met the Airhall. The ramp at the level containing the third bridgeworks, four hundred and fifty yards above the floor, first crossed the Waterhall. Here at the top, the first entry cycled back to the Earthhall.

He could still hear a struggle taking place in the center chamber, a reminder to be as quiet as possible.

There was a throng of statues now, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to pass between them without causing a commotion.

“I fear that you might have to find another way, Highness,” said Lord Grey. He’d already made it abundantly clear that he could see despite his location in a sack contained within a backpack.

“I agree, but unless you
know
another way . . . ” Lian faltered. He wasn’t sure what they were looking for up here, but had hopes that his two eldrich companions would figure something out.

Fortunately, before the corridor became impassable, he reached the end of it. One of the statues had fallen across the doorway, and had recently shattered into powder and shards when the door had slammed shut. Pieces of that statue were scattered widely about.

“Did I do that?” Lian asked.

“Most likely. I can assure you that no one has Sealed the Tower since before the rebellion,” explained Lord Grey. “I would have heard the infernal din it makes.”

Lian nodded. “This will open for me, right?”

“As long as you carry the Key, Your Highness,” the skull said. “Once you pass through that doorway, it will be quite difficult for your pursuers to apprehend you, unless there are open passageways that I am unaware of that permit access to the upper floors. I confess that I do not know the entire design of the Tower.

“With a great deal of magical ability and stamina, as well as a willingness to risk encounters with malevolent defensive wardings, it is possible to penetrate these inner doors without possessing the Key, but it’s dangerous and time-consuming. I know of a Castellan who once Sealed the Tower and locked himself into his quarters. The door to his chambers had to be defeated, at great cost to the mages and their guards. When they finally managed to reach him, he was trying to destroy the Key. In its larger form, as it was when you found it, it is theoretically not invulnerable. However, Firavon built better than the mad Castellan was capable of breaking.

“I remember that several of the higher ranking mages were concerned that the Key might be cracked deep inside where they couldn’t detect the flaw.

“Alas, I digress, and my rhetoric may very well get you killed,” the skull admonished itself.

Lian approached the door and glanced back at his fresh footprints in the powdered statue fragments.

You’d better use up a little of that magic I gave you and remove the traces of my passage
, he said mentally to Gem.

She replied by singing a few short melodic syllables, breaking into bell-like chords which sounded like wind chimes in the breeze. His footprints were smoothed away by a gentle zephyr which remained, redistributing the dust, after he’d opened the door and entered the chamber beyond.

Once he was through, he asked, “Do I need to reseal the door now?” As he awaited Lord Grey’s reply, he propped Gem against the wall and fumbled for the wand that Elowyn had made for him. He put it in his mouth and reclaimed Gem.

“No,” answered the skull. “The Tower will remain Sealed until you order it to Unseal.”

This room, too, was powdered with fragments of the statue, and he concentrated on the wand’s enchantment. His progress left no traces behind, and a small whisper of magic from Gem eradicated the prints closest to the door.

He realized that he’d been in the Tower for some time now, and it was imperative that he find a way out before Rishak’s mages managed to get reinforcements in. Rishak would know that
some
hostile entity was in the Tower, just not what or who.

He noticed that the room he had entered appeared to have been some sort of audience chamber, as he moved through it and into the next room. There were more statues here, but they were all shattered, and the pieces lay scattered forlornly about the room. Lian, concentrating on the wand’s magic, picked his way through carefully, not wishing to lose his balance.

The room was actually a grand hallway, with three doors. Choosing the far door randomly, he slowly opened it. Inside were more statues, most of them intact, but these were different from the ones he’d seen before. They were of several different varieties of creatures, predominantly winged, and didn’t seem to be of the proper proportions.

Lian stopped concentrating on the magic of the wand, and fumbled it back into his pouch. “Carvings?” he asked.

“Enchanted, whatever they are,” replied Gem.

“Agreed,” said Lord Grey with a smug tone. “They are enchanted most strongly. They will provide the way out, My Prince.”

He moved among them, examining sculptures of dragons, great birds, and unfamiliar creatures he assumed were conjured beasts. The floor was littered with debris, for some of the statues had evidently been broken, their pieces strewn about the chamber. The thought occurred to Lian that there weren’t enough pieces to account for statues of the size represented here, as if the statues were mere shells containing . . . what?

Lian, absorbed in his inspection of the beautiful carvings, lost his footing on one of larger broken pieces. His hand flew out reflexively to check his fall, and Gem fell from his grasp.

“No!” cried Lord Grey and Gem together, but too late, for his hand landed on the statue of a gryphon.

Musical, crystalline tones belled from the air around the statue, followed by a flare of electric green light. The statue cracked in a thousand places, like a hard-boiled egg rolled on hard rock. Bursting forth from its apparent imprisonment, the gryphon leapt from its pedestal. Its head was that of a great eagle, richly feathered in white. Its body was enveloped in shimmering golden feathers, and the talons on its forelegs gleamed. Its lionine hindquarters were a resplendent gilt, and its powerful tail lashed.

It hissed and fixed its eagle eyes on Lian, who hurriedly picked up his sword.

Narrowing its eyes, it glanced about briefly, then advanced toward the young man.

“Stop right there!” Lian commanded, fervently hoping that either the gryphon’s bindings or the Key of Firavon would afford him some authority over the beast. Gryphons were immensely powerful, equaled only by the dragonkind for sheer physical might. They were also highly resistant to magic; as a result they were difficult to summon and even more difficult to control.

It did stop, and cocked its head, as if waiting for sorcerous reinforcement to the command. None was forthcoming, so it continued its approach, moving with an agile, cat-like grace.

“Gilaeshar, don’t eat the boy. I believe he can get you out of here,” said Lord Grey, impatience apparent in his voice.

This time, the gryphon halted and settled back on its haunches. “Lorrd Grrey, iss it?” it hissed.

Lian started. He hadn’t realized that the creatures were capable of thought, much less speech.

“In the flesh, so to speak. This is the king of Dunshor’s son, Prince Lian,” he said.

To Lian, he explained, “Gilaeshar here served as mount for one of my previous bearers.”

“Ownerrss, you mean, sskull,” Gilaeshar reprimanded. “Orr have you esscaped your imprissonment?”

“I could wish for a thousand years, and never see my bonds broken, wingèd one. Are you planning to eat him?” the skull asked calmly. Lian, however, could feel the slick sensation of magic gathering at his back where the skull was kept.

“He can open the doorrss?” asked the gryphon. Its still-narrowed eyes seemed to pierce the prince’s flesh.

“I said it, didn’t I?” asked Lord Grey.

Lian’s forehead furrowed in thought at Lord Grey’s affirmation.
Surely, the gryphon knows that he can lie
, he commented to Gem.

Perhaps his bindings can be used to compel truth in him, and the skull pretends for the gryphon’s benefit
, replied Gem.
Gilaeshar here may never have seen him so lightly held
.

“I bid you peace and greetings, Great One,” Lian said to the gryphon. “I would indeed like to see you free of this dread place, for in unsealing the door for you, I too will have found it.”

It chuckled, “That wall iss the doorr, human.” It extended its wing—a full thirty feet long—toward the far wall of the chamber. “But you bessst dressss the parrt if you wissh to ride on me.” It swept its wing toward a smaller door.

“You mean for me to fly upon you, Great One?” Lian asked, surprised.

“Yess. I would preferr not to be indebted to you, sso I will fly you out of herre. Unlesss you wissh to remain here and try your luck with a demon?” it asked without inflection. It nodded its great head toward one of the demonic statues. Even bound within the enspelled stone, the demons seemed particularly menacing.

“His Highness would be honored to accept your assistance, Gilaeshar. I’ll show him to the riding gear, and we shall return,” said the skull.

Lian followed Lord Grey’s instructions and opened the smaller door. Inside was a dressing room lined with fur-lined leather coats and leggings. The first pieces he tried fit him perfectly, which was enough of a coincidence to make him wonder if magic was responsible. He found well-fitting fur-lined boots and gloves as well, and hung his boots by their straps on his pack. Also in the room were some very large saddlebags, and he chose one and placed his entire pack inside.

“Saddles?” he asked Lord Grey as quietly as he could.

“I wouldn’t try to saddle a gryphon, if I were you,” was the skull’s dry reply.

Heh
, Gem said mentally.
I’ll bet
. She wasn’t exactly happy with this newest development, but at least it was a way out. Lord Grey and the gryphon might betray them later, but her more immediate concern was what Rishak would do if he caught them.

Lian returned to the larger chamber to find the gryphon waiting next to the wall it had indicated to be the door. Lian and Gem relayed mutual alarm across their mental bond, for neither one of them had heard the creature move across the room. If Lord Grey had detected the sound of its passage, he hadn’t made mention of it.

“Hurry,” said the gryphon. “I want to ssee the ssky again.”

Lian approached the wall and said, “Open.” The wall vanished in an instant, and the immediate blast of cold air would have promptly chilled him except for the outfit he was wearing. As it was, it made his left side ache.

“Mount,” said the gryphon impatiently, stomping its hind legs.

When Lian drew near, it lowered its left shoulder and indicated that the prince was to step on its foreleg to climb onto the creature’s 24-hand shoulders.

“Be sure and tell the wall to close behind us,” admonished Lord Grey, “or we’ll have aerial pursuit before long.”

The gryphon said, “Hold tight.”

Lian grasped a handful of quillions in his right hand, but Lord Grey interrupted. “He’ll never hang on by himself. His left arm’s useless.”

The gryphon growled, a deep sound that Lian felt from head to toe, “That issn’t my problem.”

“Make it your problem,” Lord Grey replied calmly. Once again, Lian felt magic gathering from within his belongings.

The gryphon hissed in irritation, but Lian felt his precarious perch on the creature become more secure somehow.

“Huh?” was all Lian had time to say before the gryphon launched from the opening in the wall. Dropping at an alarming speed toward the ground, it didn’t open its wings for what seemed like an eternity to Lian.

As the castle below came rushing toward him, he managed to remember to say, “Close,” at the doorway he’d opened. However, it was already too far away for him to see whether it had actually done so.

He could see that the main hall of the castle had already fallen, as it seemed to charge toward him. He was gratified to see that there were still guardsmen wearing his father’s colors valiantly attempting to hold the towers. Three of the towers were burning, and as he watched, he saw a small group of mages lobbing magical fire toward a fourth.