Dragon's Tongue (The Demon Bound) (53 page)

Vagner looked like he was considering flight. “Oh…that,” he said. “Well, to be quite honest…” He hesitated again. “I thought it would be appropriate to hide myself when I went out, especially when I saw that Turlough Greenfyn…”

“Turlough!” Alaric and Shona, and even Ronan, all blurted at once, the latter’s effort leaving Alaric a bit dizzy and discombobulated. Their voices echoed alarmingly through the caverns.

“Hold it down!” Vagner said. “Do you want the High Mage to find us before we are successful…?”

“I don’t want the High Mage to find us at all,” Alaric said, his voice rising in pitch. “He’ll just want to kill me…” He stepped closer, and the demon pulled back a though uneasy to have Alaric so near. “Are you certain it was Turlough?”

“Well, yes, I did see him for myself. He was riding some sort of flying platform with nearly a dozen other mageborn.”

Alaric closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Horns!
This was all he needed. There was no way he could match Turlough and an army of mageborn and come out alive. He opened his eyes and shook his head. “This is hopeless,” he muttered.

“We should go on, then,” Shona said, sounding like the voice of reason. “If Turlough finds us before we find Tane…”

“Yes, we must find Tane before Turlough finds us,” Vagner agreed, and his fingers seemed to weave a pattern before him.
Or was it a gesture?
Alaric wondered. “He may be closer than we know…”

Not liking that thought any more than he liked knowing Turlough was about, Alaric took Shona’s hand and started down the stairs. She gave in to the pull. Vagner followed, moving shadow-like at their heels. When Alaric glanced back over one shoulder, he noticed the demon negotiated the stairs with more caution than Alaric imagined was necessary, and in the cast of magelight, the demon seemed to have a hump. Alaric stopped at the bottom and blinked. The hump was gone.
Must have been the light,
he thought.

“Vagner, are you all right?” Alaric asked.

“Fine,” the demon said, stopping. “I’m just a little hungry, that’s all.” He looked away.

“Well, if you’re certain,” Alaric said.

He moved his magelight around. They now stood in a short hall that was blocked by tall double doors. As Alaric approached, he could see the same runes on them as were on the lobes of the statue’s scales, centered in teardrop shapes.

“These are the same runes as are on the statue,” Alaric said. “They must mean something. Vagner, can you read them?”

The demon shrugged and stepped forward. “I have seen their like before,” Vagner agreed, “But I fear I do not know what they mean…”

“Supreme Evil and Supreme Good,”
Ronan whispered.
“The statue is the White One, She who sits at the Center of All Things and holds the Balance of All Things in Her care.”

Do they mean anything?”

“They are not important just now,”
Ronan said.
“Time is not on our side if Turlough is here.
Now, let’s go.”

Alaric put a hand on the doors and pushed. They did not budge. “Vagner?”

The demon touched them as well, and pushed so that his claws dug deep crevices in the floor, and still they would not budge.

“There must be something bolting them from within,” Vagner suggested.

“Wonderful… and just how are we supposed to get through…”

“We do not go through the doors, remember,”
Ronan said.

So which way
do
we go, Ronan?
Alaric thought darkly.

“You are the key,”
Ronan said.

Alaric frowned. A lot of good that did.
Keys open locks,
he thought.
All I know is a song…”

A song.

“Yes, why don’t you sing…”
Ronan whispered.

Sing what?

“The next part of the key.
You remember it, don’t you?”

“Alaric? Shall I look for a mechanism?” Shona asked, and he realized she had spoken to him before.

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Alaric said. He closed his eyes and searched his memory, and a song did come to mind.

“I am the bearer of the light,

I am the keeper of the key

I am the guardian of right

And so you shall open for me.”

There was a grinding noise, but the doors before him did not budge. Instead, to his right, a cleft appeared in the wall of stone, widening into a gap. Shona stepped back, startled.

“That was impressive,” Vagner muttered. “Do you know any more songs like that?”

“Let’s hope so,” Alaric said as he thrust his light into what appeared to be a tall, narrow hall too long for his magelight to reveal much.

With a sigh, he stepped into the crevice. Briefly, his dread of close spaced sent a shiver thought him. Alaric closed his eyes. It’s a tall place, he reminded himself, and took a reluctant step forward into the shadowy gloom.

FIFTY SIX

He can’t keep this up!
Etienne thought as she watched the battle of wills with silent fascination and concern. Fenelon must surely be exhausted, for he had only his own essence as a source of power. Granted, she had seen him push the limits of magic before. But at this moment, he had nothing to fall back on, and she knew well enough recovery would take a long time if he did not find another means of feeding his spells. As it was, Fenelon had been driven to his knees, and a fresh trickle of blood now stained his chin where it seeped from his nose.
This is not good.
He cannot hold out much longer.

Turlough looked no better. His face had gone red, and his limbs trembled with exertion. The hand that clutched the Lunari stone was white-knuckled from the effort. Even with the assistance of that stone, he risked exhaustion. Yet he had not called for assistance, and Etienne strongly suspected he would not. Greenfyns were notoriously stubborn, no matter what generation they hailed from.
Pure male pride,
she thought. It was disgusting.

“Yield, damn you,” Turlough hissed.

Fenelon said nothing. He preferred to keep all his concentration focused on holding his mental shields against Turlough’s onslaught.

But for how much longer?
Part of Etienne feared the consequences of this match would be more costly than health or pride. Wherever Alaric, Shona and Vagner had gone, the longer this took, the further into unknown dangers they would be thrust. Etienne knew the demon would do its utmost to protect the two. But what if they met Tane? The demon had been the bloodmage’s slave—and still was—before it attached itself willingly to Alaric. Etienne feared Alaric might be no match against the experienced bloodmage when it came to mastery of the beast.

So how do I end this?
she wondered.

She knew it had to end before the damage was irreversible.
I gave Turlough my word I would not speak or cast spells.
She was not one to go back on her word. On the other hand, she had already damned herself as a party to this mad scheme.

At the moment, no one held her. In fact, she was being ignored.

She shifted just enough to allow her to take a step backwards, putting her behind the battlemage guard who had first captured and brought her on board. He took no notice of her action, his gaze as intent on the battle as the rest. She allowed herself furtive glances back and forth and saw concern on several of the faces, though whether it was for Fenelon or Turlough, she could not be certain. Even the platform’s navigator was absorbed in the process. Etienne wondered how many of them were laying odds on the outcome. No doubt, sgillinns had already passed hands as to who would be the victor.

Let us see what I can do to upset those odds.
Her own staff leaned against the rail, taken from her hand when they brought her on board. She took another small step towards it, eyed the distance speculatively, then glanced at the guard. Her current position allowed her to see the slip knot that held the leather strung strand of Lunari beads around his neck. Once more, she let her gaze flicker to the mages around her. Turlough was breathing hard. Fenelon’s face grew lines of pain.

Yes, this had to stop. Etienne took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and touched her own core of power, summoning her own essence. She whispered, and opening her eyes, she stretched her hands. One towards her staff…the other towards the guard.

The stout oak limb carved in runes suddenly leapt into her right hand, and at the same moment, the battlemage’s beads unknotted, flinging the strand in her direction. She caught them just as he gave a startled cry and turned to stop her.

Etienne had the advantage of both proximity and weaponry at the moment. Her staff spun in her right hand as she crouched. The guard lunged in vain. Oak caught him across the jaw and threw him off to one side, and she was quite pleased when he became an unwitting hurdle to the next mageborn whom he fell into and knocked down.

“What?” Turlough broke off his painful rending of Fenelon’s mental shields to turn and see what was happening.

“Adhar buail!”
Etienne called, and reached for the power of the Lunari stones. Essence surged into her left hand and glided across her nerves like wildfire. She raised her staff and struck the surface, and the magical power enhanced the blow so the platform tipped sideways. Suddenly, everyone save Etienne, who had braced herself for the shift, began scrambling for handholds. Fenelon fell, released by his guards as they fought for their own balance. He struggled to get up just as Etienne shifted around with her staff, preparing to do battle like one of the shield maidens of old.

As proper and lady-like as she always appeared, she had not neglected any aspect of mage training, and that included knowing how to defend against any attack by non-magical means. With surprising ferocity, she snapped around and danced aside, barely eluding the grasp of a guard who had gained his feet and lunged for her. Too late, he saw his mistake looming. Etienne’s staff was suddenly in his path, catching him across the collarbone. The force of his own forward momentum was checked, and being clothes-lined on an unstable surface in that manner threw his feet out from under him. Etienne felt just a twinge of sorrow for him as he landed on his back hard enough to knock the wind out of his lungs.

“So sorry,” she said, kneeling at his side just long enough to snatch off the string of Lunari beads he wore. “May I borrow these?”

His hands flailed in weak protest, but she took them anyway. The platform’s navigator was frantically seeking to right the still rolling surface in order to keep them from crashing to the ground, and Etienne told herself this was no worse than riding the river barges of her homeland. She managed to get to Fenelon’s side and pulled him to his feet. He staggered.

“My lady, you are a godsend,” he said with a fractured smile. “I wish they would stop rocking this boat.”

“And you’re in pain,” she said as she slipped her staff into her belt. “Hold onto me.”

“Whatever you command,” Fenelon said and wrapped arms around her.

“Etienne!” Turlough shouted. Lorymer had helped the High Mage to his feet, but the continual rock of the platform kept him off balance. “You gave your word!”

“And now I must take it back,” she said.

Etienne tightened her arm around Fenelon’s waist, and leapt off the edge of the platform, calling out the words of her flying spell as she dragged him along. He gave a startled yelp.

Horns,
she hated flying as much as she hated levitating, but there was no other choice. An involuntary squeal slipped from her throat as she and Fenelon plunged ground-ward then began to soar. She had not realized they had flown the platform so high. Fenelon merely clung to her, laughing.

“Now I know why I love you more than life, Etienne,” he shouted. “A man cannot help but fall for a woman like you. Whatever reward you desire for rescuing me shall be yours.”

“I’ll hold you to that later,” she called back. “Here!” She thrust the second strand of Lunari beads into his hands. “You’re heavier than I thought!”

Grinning, Fenelon wrapped the strand around one wrist to bind them in place, then helped her to do the same with the other set before he let go and called his own flying spell. The sudden lurch of losing his weight startled Etienne, and she nearly lost her concentration, but she quickly compensated for the shift and turned, gliding towards the center of the crater.

“No, not until we lose them,” Fenelon called, coming along side her.

“How can we lose them?” she asked.

“Follow me. I’ve got an idea.”

He veered like a hawk on wing, rolling over with an envious grace as he shifted directions and headed west towards the waterfall. Etienne took a wider, more comfortable turn, trying to ignore the cold wind searing her face. The angle allowed her to momentarily glance backwards.

Turlough’s men who still wore Lunari stones were launching themselves from the now stable platform in pursuit. Turlough himself was shouting for the navigator to follow as close as possible. Etienne turned back to face the waterfall, a giant wall of wild moisture shearing a wide path down the edge of the crater to form the river below.

Whatever Fenelon had in mind, Etienne hoped it would work. For this time, she suspected Turlough would not forego the use of a gag to still her tongue.

~

“
You’re pulling far too much essence from me
,” Vagner thought as he cautiously walked along the tall, narrow corridor of glittering stone in the wake of the young mageborn pair.

Tane’s greed for power to renew himself was taking more toll on the demon than he liked.

“
I take what I need
,” the bloodmage whispered back through the mind link he now shared with the demon. “
It is not your place to question, but rather to give me what I desire
…”

“
Even if you risk killing me
?” responded in kind, and wondered if his link to Alaric would give this conversation away.

“
I own you, demon
,” Tane said, not bothering to hide his contempt. “
I have every right to kill you, considering that you betrayed me
.”

“
Only because you betrayed me
,” the demon retorted. “
You left me to die, still wrapped in that wretched child’s form
.”

“
You deserved that punishment and more
.”

“
Indeed
?” the demon thought. “
Yet had I not managed to survive, would you now have the opportunity to fulfill your goal to be a god
?
You failed to get all of his knowledge, remember
?
If he had died, and I had died, you would never have found a means to get to the Dragon’s Tongue
.
So much for all your plotting, lost on a whim for vengeance
.
You made the mistake of not making certain you had the whole key
…”

“
Chide me not, monster
!” Tane snapped, and Vagner felt a lash of pain ripping into him with his True Name. It took effort not to cry out… To keep moving step by step. “
I could just as easily make your death swift and painful right now
!”

“
And just as easily reveal yourself in the process
,” Vagner hissed in his mind. “
For if I were to die now, the spell that currently protects you from detection would die as well
.
Are you ready to sacrifice your precious prize, all for the pleasure of punishing me
?
I doubt very much the little master would willingly lead you to what you seek once he knows you are here
.”

“
They are children compared to me, demon
,” Tane said. “
I could master them because they would have nothing to fight with, while I would have all your essence
.
With that, I could force them to take me to the Dragon’s Tongue, and there would be nothing they could do to resist
…”

“
Are you so certain of that victory
?” Vagner challenged. “
My essence would not last you as long as you think it would
.
And the magic in this place is well beyond your grasp, or you would have used it instead of my essence to renew yourself
.
But have you not noticed how that same power that eludes you favors the little bard
?
Where do you think he gets the power to sustain that mage light
?
Not from me
.
Are you truly ready to risk all you have sought for
?”

Silence resonated in the demon’s head. He could feel the controlled intake of a deep breath being slowly released. Tane had apparently realized he was mistaken in his assumption. “
Very well, beast
.
You have made your point and earned yourself a reprieve for now
.
But remember, once I have the Dragon’s Tongue, I will no longer need you or your essence
.
Nor will I have mercy to spare you for your insolence
.
You will die, and they will die, and all the power in this place will be useless to Alaric Braidwine once I have Dragon’s Tongue in my grasp
.”