Magic Lost, Trouble Found

Page 56

He smiled. “Not at all. You found me, so it must be going well.”
“As well as can be expected—at least for one of us.” I could look right through my father and see the wraiths floating behind him. I winced. “You’re the Saghred’s Guardian. Isn’t it supposed to like you, or at least not eat you?”
The corner of his mouth quirked upward. “Being here wasn’t exactly my idea, either.”
“I can understand that.” I risked a quick glance at the wraiths, then lowered my voice. “Not your ideal roommates either, I’d imagine.”
“All of those here were victims, some were more innocent than others. Few are actually evil; their greed and lust for power blinded them to the danger.”
I thought of Ocnus. “Greed makes you stupid,” I muttered.
My father nodded, a twinkle in his gray eyes. “Without exception. The more powerful you are, the more blind you are to your own greed—and its consequences.”
Sounded just like Sarad Nukpana.
“Could you have found a less creepy place than a crypt to hide it?”
“Under the very noses of those looking the hardest for it. In a place they would disdain. It was perfect.”
Apparently Sarad Nukpana liked it well enough to meditate upstairs. I decided not to mention that. The less creepiness I had to deal with, the better.
I held the beacon by its diamond chain. “I believe this belongs to you. Any way I can give it back?”
“Unfortunately, I’m in no condition to accept it.”
Unfortunate was right.
I closed my hand around the disk. It was warm and oddly comforting. “Isn’t it supposed to be attached to you forever or something?”
“I was ambushed by mercenaries, probably hired by the Khrynsani. I escaped with my life, but not with the beacon. The Khrynsani were close to finding the Saghred. Too close to risk leaving it where it was. To move the stone is to risk discovery. But to come in contact with the stone is to risk being taken.”
“And you had to touch it to put it in the vault.”
My father nodded.
“The stone wanted a snack before being put to bed.”
He laughed, a rich silvery sound. “I never thought of it that way, but you’re exactly right. When it hungers, it will feed.”
“I know. Prince Chigaru told me.”
My father’s expression darkened. “A Mal’Salin.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. I take anything he tells me with a grain of salt—and one hand on my nearest dagger.”
“As well you should, but in this case he didn’t lead you astray.”
“I know that, too. I get the feeling the Saghred’s bad to know and worse to be around.”
His eyes grew sorrowful. “As am I.”
I drew a trembling breath. “Did my mother know that you were the Saghred’s Guardian?”
“I tried to keep that from her as well. When you’ve lived as long as I have, you take and guard any semblance of a normal life that you can have. The Khrynsani had picked up my trail again—and they would soon find Maranda. I protected her in the only way I knew. I left her, drawing my pursuers with me.”
I had a feeling where this was going. “Except they didn’t follow.”
His expression reflected equal parts anger and sadness. “Not all of them. I only discovered later what had happened to her—and about you.”
My mother, alone against the Khrynsani’s best shamans. She had only been a marginal sorceress—like me. She hadn’t stood a chance. Thanks to the Saghred, I wasn’t so marginal anymore—and I was determined not to share her fate.
I blinked back tears. “Why didn’t you—?”
“Try to contact you? So you could be hunted down like your mother?”
“I see your point.”
“I kept watch over you, through trusted friends. Even they didn’t know the connection. It was safer that way. But eventually, my secret was betrayed.”
“Sarad Nukpana found out.”
“And tracked you down. I did not want what has happened to you to happen. I am sorry, Raine. I have tried to protect you, but there was no other way.”
I tried to shrug. I wanted to cry. “I’m none the worse for wear.”
“None of this should have happened. I ask for your forgiveness.”
“No one’s been wronged,” I managed past the lump in my throat. “No need to forgive.”
A look of surprise passed over his flawless face, surprise and pride. “But your life, your family, friends…”
“I have a responsibility to my family—all of my family. Guarding the Saghred is your job; I’m thinking now that it’s my job to help.”
“You’re very brave.” Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but he appeared to be getting more insubstantial, if that was possible.
“I guess that makes me my father’s daughter,” I whispered.
He smiled. “And your mother’s.” He looked up and the smile vanished.
I looked where he was looking. I saw a gray void. He must have seen more.
“What is it?” I asked.
“He’s here.”
“What? Who?”
“Sarad Nukpana. He’s here.”
Damn.
My father was fading. “Go now.”
I reached out toward him. “But I don’t…”
I was on the cold dirt floor, in Mychael’s arms, the small white stone box he had brought with us clutched in my white-knuckled hands. The lid was closed and the box glowed softly as if from within. The Saghred—and my father—were locked inside. So much for how the Thief of Souls earned its nickname.
“Who put—?” I asked him.
His face was impassive, but pale. “You did.”
The door to the miniature vault was still in place. I didn’t ask how. I didn’t remember, and at this point I didn’t care.
“They’re alive,” I told Mychael. “All of them.” I didn’t mention my father. I didn’t know how to say it, and Prince Chigaru didn’t need to hear it.
A light sprinkling of dirt and salt fell from the tunnel roof.
The goblin looked up. We all did.
“We must leave,” the prince said, his voice low and urgent.
We didn’t need to ask why; we all knew the dirt didn’t fall by itself.
“Is there another way out?” Mychael asked.
“None that I know.”
Mychael looked at Riston, and the Guardian ran silently down the corridor.
I wrestled my way free of Mychael’s arms.
“Let me up.”
“Can you…?”
Standing by myself stopped his question. I wasn’t dizzy or in the least bit weak. I was angry, more angry than I’d ever been in my life. And that anger steadied me more effectively than a sharp slap in the face. My mother was dead and my father was trapped for eternity inside a rock. No hope of help. No hope of escape. All because of the Khrynsani—and especially because of Sarad Nukpana.
Some magic users lost their concentration when they got angry. I wasn’t one of them.
The goblin grand shaman was in the mausoleum above us. That Riston didn’t return to report only confirmed it, but I didn’t need to wait for confirmation. I could feel him. I could feel the fear he brought, the pain. He would wait, and then he would come after me. I would not die in a hole in the ground.
The only sound was the single word Chigaru had just hissed. Its simple eloquence summed up his opinion of our situation. I couldn’t have agreed more.
With the Saghred clutched to my side, I started off down the corridor.
Mychael caught my arm. I wrenched it away.
“He’s up there,” I told him.
“Let me go first.”
“Not this time,” I said.
I ran to the foot of the stairs.
Sarad Nukpana stood at the top. He was smiling.
“There you are, Mistress Benares. I believe you have something for me?”
The goblin grand shaman almost sounded happy. I imagine he was. He thought this was going to be his lucky night.
I wasn’t entirely certain he was wrong.
Chapter 23
The mausoleum was more crowded than it had been when we had left.
We had used one light globe so as not to attract attention. The Khrynsani had torches, a lot of them. They didn’t need to sneak. They belonged there.
They also outnumbered us at least five to one.
Vegard lay unmoving on the ground, his scalp bloody, his ax still in his hand. More than a few motionless goblins shared the ground with him. The bloodied ones were probably Vegard’s work, those with no visible marks of violence were probably the result of Garadin and Primari Nuru’s attentions.
I saw why Garadin had called a ceasefire. A pair of Khrynsani temple guards held scythelike blades less than an inch from Piaras’s throat. It looked like Piaras had made a magical contribution of his own, or tried to. I glanced at Mychael. His face was completely impassive. No clues there.
Sarad Nukpana held out his hand to me. I didn’t have to ask what he wanted. I looked to Mychael. The Guardian didn’t hesitate. He nodded once, tightly.
I did hesitate, and I certainly expressed my disbelief. “What?”
“Give it to him.” Mychael’s voice was perfectly level, utterly controlled.
There were two ways I could interpret that statement. One would be a lot more enjoyable. Unfortunately, I didn’t think that was the one he meant.
“I am gratified to see you are being reasonable, Paladin Eiliesor,” Nukpana said, his tone equally flat. He didn’t know what Mychael was up to either. That made two of us. Garadin looked baffled, too. Apparently it was contagious.
I did a quick search for another option. It didn’t take long, since there wasn’t one. Give Nukpana the Saghred and I had nothing to bargain with. But if I refused, things would get ugly in short order, with more bloodshed a virtual guarantee.
So what I said was, “I’ll make you a deal.”