Tyrant Trouble

CHAPTER 12

  Have I mentioned that a thousand years ago, when I was sixteen, I dated Rock Decko?

  Rock in black leather and chains was, uh, hot. And I was sixteen. Which I hope explains why I thought he was hot.

  He wasn't much older than me, two or three years, I think. Rock was into motorcycles, worked in a cycle repair shop, and really, really, really wanted to be a bad boy but had no special skills. I am talking fighting skills. He couldn't possibly have held his own in a Hell's Angels type of dust up. So he hung around the edges when bikers came into the shop, soaking up their wild stories and believing them, then putting himself into the lead role.

  I can still hear him telling me, “Babe, this dude came at me, had a knife this long, thought I'd back off, blah, blah, blah.” He had me fooled for about a month. I was really impressed in that teenage nuts way.

  “Weren't you scared?”

  “Nah, babe, nothing scares me.”

  Did I mention he was a really good kisser? Sixteen is easy to impress.

  Fortunately, he didn't own a car and neither of us had a room to go to or money to rent one and hadn't figured a path around that little obstacle. Also, fortunately, Rock hadn't yet been tapped to be a wizard. Most smash wizards don't know they are wizards. It isn't genetic, at least not where I come from. It's more accidental, like discovering you're a natural on the oboe. And that happens when a music teacher hands you one and says, “I think you might be good on this.”

  With wizard mentality, the line is, “Do you sometimes wish for something and are surprised when it happens?”

  Rock and I were a twosome before his big moment. While necking in the back booth of the pizza parlor, because necking on a bike is really hazardous and I have a few scars to prove it, I'd come up for air and tell him about my astrology training, some of it with the local astrologer, some with my gran.

  “You can tell fortunes? Hey, can you pick winners, you know, like for a Seahawks game?”

  Verboten, every astrologer knows that, not because it is illegal but because one teeny error can earn you a lifelong enemy, so I told him of course not.

  That isn't why we broke up. Another guy tried to hit on me, nothing obnoxious, the sort of thing I could have turned off with a polite, “That's my boyfriend over there.”

  Rock didn't give me a chance. The guy touched my arm, just touched, didn't grab, and asked my name and could he buy me a beer. I was on my way back to the booth from a rest room run. I didn't even get a chance to tell him I stuck to diet coke because even in Mudflat they card.

  The bad boy wannabe saw us and flew out of the booth swinging a chain and then there was this messy bloody mix-up, with the owner tossing us all out into the parking lot. I left and headed home. Buses stay clear of Mudflat at night. I had to walk. Lots of time to think. Sure I wasn't a brain but at least I knew a violent boyfriend could be a girl's worst nightmare.

  I told him so the next time he phoned.

  Funny thing, that. He didn't argue, didn't say he was sorry. I heard later that some other girl helped scrape him up off the parking lot pavement where Mr. Pick-Up turned out to be the tougher of the two. And so I put Rock Decko out of my mind.

  Sure, when my cousin Jimmy introduced me to Darryl Decko, six years later, I mentioned Rock. Darryl said, “My half-ass brother? Sorry you've met him, honey. I don't have anything to do with him and he's not crazy about me, either.”

  And I was dumb enough to believe him.

  After the Decko boys, and a list of guys in between, is it such a surprise that I avoid letting myself be indebted to good looking young men?

  The troll is a different story. And speaking of the troll, old Lor was about as attractive and therefore, yes, I trusted Lor.

  Peeking out around the edge of the doorway, I saw it was still night-black. No one guarded the long wall on this side of the castle. I closed the stone door and moved in the building shadow toward the trees.

  A shadow separated from the others. My breath stopped.

  Old Lor whispered, “This way.”

  I hurried to him and whispered back, “We heard Ober send you away.”

  “Aye, but I waited.”

  We circled around the back of the temple, past the stables and up the other side, watching from the far wall until we saw that no one stood near the gate except two temple guards. Yeah, tonight there were two of them. Had the guards decided that themselves? I didn't know what their rotation was so maybe this was routine, something they did when there were others around. Maybe they didn't like Ober and company any more than I did.

  When they opened the gate for me, their torches lighting my way, I glanced back and saw the silhouette of Ober's manservant across the hill, a tall form of hood and narrow cloak. I hadn't had time to do his horoscope and I didn't much want to because I had seen the evil washing through Ober's heart and that was enough.

  Lor was right to lead me to the gate. Now no one would suspect secret entrances. They might wonder how I had left Tarvik's room and slipped past them, but this was not their castle. I doubted they knew every exit. They would figure there must be a door from his room to an adjoining room, with that room opening to a different corridor. Or they would believe I was magic.

  That's the most useful thing about superstitious people. They are easy to fool. Oh right, a policeman once said something like that to me about fortunetelling.

  Nance waited for me, wringing the hem of her tunic in her hands and blinking back tears. She sputtered complaints about the lateness of my return, then touched me and sobbed that I was chilled through and would probably come down with fever. After wrapping a blanket over my cloak and pushing me down among a pile of sheepskins, she pressed a cup of hot tea into my hands and insisted it would warm me. I sipped at it, wishing it was coffee, brandy, even their bitter mead, almost anything other than tea. When she settled down, I told her what had happened.

  “It sounds to me as though Tarvik suspects we also have a secret door, probably because he does,” Nance exclaimed. “Be careful, Stargazer. If he ever discovers our way through the stables, we will become prisoners in this temple.”

  “He trusted me with his secret. Isn't that worth something?”

  “Who can be sure of Tarvik? He is safe enough now but someday he will rule and marry Alakar. That will change everything. Those who rule do not remember their friends. Think of Kovat. He prayed with the priests of Thunder until the Daughter of the Sun cured him. Then he was quick enough to turn against them. Those who did not escape fell beneath his sword or died in prison cells.”

  “Tell me more about this Daughter and her consort. Do you remember them?”

  “I remember them, but it was long ago. I was a child when they died. They were both kind to me.”

  “Nance, do you know how she cured illness? How did she cure Kovat?”

  “I only know what I have been told. Fifteen years ago the Daughter and her consort arrived here from the afterworld, from the home of the gods. I was an infant. Tarvik was four. His mother had already died, as had my mother and father. Kovat lay on his deathbed.

  “When the Daughter saw him, she…oh, it is so long since I have heard this tale, let me think. Yes, she lay her hands upon him and prepared a drink for him and the fever left him. He knew then that she possessed great magic.”

  About what I'd guessed. She gave him a swallow of tea or mead or whatever, probably used to wash down a dose of antibiotic.

  Nance added, “No one can do that but a god. Now tell me what Ober said. And what she did.”

  I told her what Ober said. Neither of us was sure what she meant. As for what Ober did, I knew of only one person who could explain that.

  “Nance, is there some way we can speak with the magician of Thunder?”

  “Speak with him? First you request a secret meeting with Tarvik, now you want the same with the magician. Are you mad?”

  “I need to talk to him. He might know what sorts of tricks Ober uses. Knockout drops? Poison? I don't kn
ow much about drugs, but some are made from wild plants. We need to tell him what I saw Ober mixing and find out what it is. Can he be brought here?”

  Nance did her drama queen thing, flung herself back against her pile of sheepskins and tossed her head from side to side, exclaiming, “Life was so easy for me before you came, Stargazer. Tarvik did not suspect me. Ober's guards did not watch me. I went where I chose when I chose. And no one ever asked me to invite a magician to the temple. Stargazer! His eyes hold terrible magic!”

  “Okay. Don't give it another thought.” I gave her my widest smile. “If it is you and me that Ober wants to be rid of, and those were her words, I will patiently await my fate.”

  Nance jumped to her feet. Her small fists beat the air. “You are terrible! Wicked! I cannot think why I listen to you! Oh, have your way. But if the magician's eyes turn my heart and mind forever against you, it will be what you deserve.”

  “Don't look at his eyes, girlfriend. Let me talk to him alone.”

  “And who will keep him from killing you?”

  “Why should he kill me? What would it gain him? No, we'll give him something he wants. Besides freedom, what would he want, Nance? Something I can hand him?”

  “Food and, oh, I cannot believe I am planning this with you! It is madness! I cannot allow it!”

  While Nance moaned and sobbed and shouted her opinions of me, I went outside and heated water over the courtyard fire, carried it inside, washed away the day's dust, and then dried myself with a linen altar cloth. By the time I pulled on a clean tunic and rubbed most of the water from my hair, Nance was almost calm. Not screaming anyway.

  She no longer shouted. She merely glared at me.

  “You win,” she said. “I can think of only one way to do this and when Kovat returns he'll punish us all. I will send word to Tarvik to order the magician brought to us.”

  “Will Tarvik do that?”

  “I will not ask him as his cousin. I shall command him as temple priest. I shall say the magician holds knowledge you must have to complete the task Kovat set for you.”

  “Clever you. But let me make one change.”

  Nance clapped her hands over her ears and cried, “I do not want to hear it!”

  I said it, anyway. In the back of my addled brain an idea grew. I needed to know more than what the magician might say in the presence of Nance and Tarvik. “Nance, I don't want the magician brought here. Instead, tell Tarvik to have his guards escort me alone to the magician's cell.”

  Her howls of protest should have kept me awake, but it had been a tiresome night and I tuned her out.

  Her howls were nothing compared to Tarvik's anger. The next day we spent an unpleasant afternoon stuck in the stale-smelling temple with Tarvik. Nance had made me don temple robes, again, so I felt about as grouchy as he acted. He could hardly believe my request, much less consider granting it.

  “You want to see who? Have you gone mad?” he said.

  There were a whole lot of hard truths I was tempted to shout at him. But Nance was right. If I was going to get my way, I had to let her win through intimidation. For someone who didn't know that phrase, she had the behavior down pat.

  Trouble was, for all I knew the guy loved Alakar, or lusted for her. Hey, he was nineteen and the girl was gorgeous. That bit about not wanting her was Ober's thought, not mine. He tended to treat me like a pet, picking me up to toss me on his horse, tucking in my hair so it would not be noticed, fastening my cloak when I looked cold.

  Oh yes, he liked to hug me, and probably any other available female, and might have progressed to grabby if I let him, but it was nothing more than flirting. I knew that. I was entertainment, amusing him with my reactions to his teasing.

  “I speak for the Daughter of the Sun,” Nance chanted for the third time.

  Tarvik glared. He had left his guards in the courtyard, as requested, and entered dressed in his temple garb of fur-trimmed cape and gold armbands. In his out thrust hands lay his offering, a gold trinket cradled in a soft new temple cloth. Today the cloth was another one of the linen ones I loved. I didn't have much use for jewelry in the middle of the Olympic Mountains, but clean towels? Definitely included on my want list. The silk ones served Nance's hobby nicely but were useless when it came to drying my hair.

  Nance ignored his offering.

  “The Daughter rejects all gifts from those who refuse her small requests.”

  “How can I know this is truly the Daughter's request?” Tarvik demanded.

  “The Daughter sent me a vision of the magician speaking with the templekeeper,” Nance chanted. “Do you question my visions, son of Kovat, faithful servant of the Daughter?”

  Tarvik thrust out his lower lip. We waited.

  At last he said, “What if the magician harms the templekeeper or - or anyone? My father's anger will be toward me.”

  Nance repeated the answer I had given her. “If he could do harm, he would have escaped by now. The Daughter knows the courage of brave Tarvik exceeds the powers of the magician.”

  Of course we won. We knew we would. Had we argued with Tarvik in the courtyard, dressed in tunics, our faces unpainted, he might have held out against a cousin and a stranger. But here in the musty shadows of the hanging lamps, overseen by the portraits of his father's gods and faced by two fully costumed priests of the Daughter, he could drag his feet a bit, but had to give in to Nance's demands.

  Wish I could have had such power over the magician. With a pouch of food hidden under my cape, I followed an escort guard back to the castle, then through a creaking metal gate, then down a winding stone staircase into the damp smell of basement.

  Backed into his cell, the magician faced me with the defiant hatred of a captive who knows where to place the blame. As the guard closed the door behind me, I began to doubt my judgment. Why had I thought I could gain information from this man? I had outdone him in front of a powerful warlord, taken his one chance at freedom. His gaze followed mine around the cell.

  “Not pretty, is it? Soon Kovat will tire of you, too, and you will find yourself entombed in a like place.”

  Mold sketched odd patterns on the stone walls. Light filtered through a grate far overhead. The cell, a man's height in width and depth, was beneath a courtyard of the castle, reached by twisting narrow stairs and foul-smelling corridors. The magician had no comforts of sheepskins or bench, only the earth floor, cold and hard beneath his body at night.

  Remembering the bribe, I drew the pouch of food from the folds of my cape and held it out to him. He accepted it, his bony fingers curling like talons around it. I waited while he ate the cheese. The bread he concealed beneath his tunic before handing back Nance's pouch.

  “I accept your gift but I owe you nothing in return,” he said.

  “Whatever you give me, you give to protect yourself,” I said.

  “Why is that?”

  “Your life depends on Kovat's whim. I can probably gain a favor or two from him. Once in command, the lady Ober will have no use for me. Then you'll lose me as your one chance out of here.”

  “Why should you help me? It was you who destroyed me.”

  “No. No, I didn't. You destroyed yourself. You didn't have good answers for Kovat's questions.” My words were brave enough but I still wasn't going to look in his eyes. Hypnotism is funny stuff, nothing I have ever understood or been willing to try. It can be shot through with bad magic.

  “What is it you want?”

  “I saw something I hope you can explain to me.”

  “Why should I do that?”

  “Because I don't know what is planned. Maybe the overthrow of Kovat's son. Maybe the destruction of all of us.”

  He squatted in a corner and turned his face to the wall. Hunched up, his thin hands and feet protruding from his tunic, he looked old and sick and defeated. “This matters not to me. One ruler will entomb me, another will behead me. Where is the difference? A quick death might be easier.”

  “Is there
nothing I can offer you?”

  “A way out,” he whispered against the stones.

  “I'll do what I can when Kovat returns but there's no way to help you escape now.”

  He glanced up. I turned my eyes away.

  “Would you help me if you could?”

  “In return for the right information, why not? Your captivity is no use to me.” And that was true. He was a weak, weary old man, separated from friends and home. If let go, he would disappear into the mountains. He'd want freedom far more than revenge.

  “I could tell you how to free me.”

  True, I wasn’t scared of a sickly old man, but what about Kovat when he returned? If he discovered I had helped the magician escape, and Kovat had an unpleasant ability to know exactly whom to suspect of what, what would happen to me?

  While I worried that through, I nodded. “Go ahead, tell me.”

  “I could tell you the contents of drugs to add to the drinks of the guards that would make them sleep through any sound. You could steal past them and release me.”

  “And when they woke up they could hack me to death.”

  “Make your own choice. Whatever you want of me must be paid for with my freedom.”

  The guard rapped his sword hilt against the outer surface of the cell door. I called to him to wait a moment longer. Then I told the old man what I had heard and seen in Ober's chamber.

  “I know her magic,” he said. “I know those signs and powders she uses. When I am out of this place I will tell you what it means.”

  “Tell me quickly and I will try to get you out.”

  “Later will be beyond caring, dark woman. I am weary to the brink of death and you have not much longer. Now I will tell you how to mix the drug to overcome the guards. Make your choice when you wish. But if you hope to save yourself, you had better choose soon. What Ober mixes can be fatal. She learned from a deathwalker.”

  He had barely time to tell me the leaves I must grind and simmer and add to a drink for the guards. First, grinding coffee beans is the limit of my culinary skills. Second, his mixture might be deadly. I think we both knew I wasn't going to do it.

  The guard knocked again, opened the door, and said it was time to leave.

  I had no more than returned to the temple courtyard when Nance attacked me with questions. “What did he do? How did he speak? What are the cells like? Did he cast a spell on you? Did he tell you what you need to know? Will he help us?”

  I described the prison cell with its shaft of light entering through the ceiling grill. She clapped her hands and exclaimed, “Yes, I know where that is! The grill opens to a small courtyard so the guards can check on the prisoner from above. Did he tell you what you sought?”

  I told her his bargain.

  Nance shrieked, clapped her hands over her mouth and stared at me, her eyes wide above her crossed fingers.

  “He said Tarvik's life lay in Ober's hands.”

  “Do you believe him? Is he lying to gain his freedom? If you help him, you will destroy yourself, Stargazer. Promise me you will try no such madness.”

  I nodded. I'm not suicidal. For now we were safe enough. And who could know what might occur. Maybe my suspicions were wrong. Better yet, maybe bad weather would change Kovat's plans and he would return before Ober attempted whatever she was up to.

  “Nance, what exactly is a deathwalker?” I asked and waited patiently for her to go through her usual series of screams and threats after which I added, “The magician warned me against the deathwalker.”

  “The magician? The magician said that? Oh Stargazer!”

  “So tell me, what exactly is a deathwalker?”

  “I don't really know. I only know the tales Lor tells. Some say that man can kill you with a touch. Some say he is already dead. Some say his soul is gone, that he traded it to an evil god.”

  None of her explanations matched anything I knew about. The magician of Thunder was little more than an old man with a few stage tricks. So probably the deathwalker was also overrated, a man who once murdered someone under odd circumstances, creating rumors about himself.

  While Nance fussed around me, I drew a circle on a tabletop. As I did not know an hour, all I could use was the day Kovat had given me. That meant placing the sun on the morning horizon of the deathwalker’s chart and hoping it showed a message from that spot. I knew from memory the placement of the slower planets. I added them. After what I had felt in Ober's chart, I didn't want to do his horoscope and certainly I didn't want to touch it.

  Nance leaned against the table. “What do you see in your magic circle?”

  “Nothing much, little more than I saw in the charts of Erlan and Kovat, but then, this one not only lacks the moon and near planets, it lacks the placement of time.”

  “You sound like my chants. Your meaning is clouded.”

  “It is,” I sighed. “I hoped for some clear message but there isn't one.”

  Turning to look at her, I dropped my hand to the table for support. “When can we get out of these robes?”

  A shock of cold ran through my hand. I stumbled back.

  “Stargazer? You look pale. Are you faint?”

  I stared at the circle. The sun. His heart. I had touched it.

  “Nothing but cold,” I whispered.

  “You're cold? Shall I make you some tea?”

  “No.” I didn't know what to tell her, disbelieving what I felt. Not the pits of the earth, not the swirling horror of Ober's heart. Something worse. Slowly, not wanting to do it at all, I reached out my hand and pressed my palm over the sun in the deathwalker's chart. “It's cold, his heart is a piece of ice.”

  “That's no surprise. Notice how the other guards avoid him? He is wicked, that's certain, and I think they fear him.”

  “Worse than that.” I continued to press my palm to the table. If I had not felt the cold I would have thought there was simply nothing to feel. This business of heartbeats baffled me. Yet I felt them every time I touched the sun in a horoscope. I had felt the pounding of Erlan's heart, the lighter rhythm of the hearts of Ober and Alakar. “His heart is frozen. Not cold, frozen. No heartbeat, no pulsing, nothing.”

  “And that means?”

  “What does it mean, you tell me what it means when a heart does not beat.”

  Her eyes widened and she paled. “I told you, Stargazer, I told you. The man is dead. He has no soul. And his heart no longer beats.”

  “Which is why he is called a deathwalker?”

  Nance shrieked, “I hate this! Don't tell me more! I don't want to know!” She ran out of our rooms and back toward the altar room, and while I stood staring at the circle, I heard her banging around with the candlesticks. I waited. She calmed down enough to return.

  “We have to warn Tarvik. Ober mentioned Kovat's death. It may be only a wish on her part, but still, Tarvik needs to know.”

  “How can he beware of an unknown danger?”

  I shrugged. “Distance, maybe. He could make himself unavailable? Avoid her and stick close to his guards?”

  “Impossible. Guards could protect him from an attacker with a dagger, but magic? Also, Tarvik must dine with his guests. He can do no less as host.”

  Hadn't thought about the etiquette among the unwashed. “Could he pretend to be sick and stay in his room?”

  “If Ober seeks to harm him, that would give her an opportunity. She could claim to bring him healing potions and instead poison him.”

  “I don't think she wants him dead until he's married to Alakar. But she might have a potion to make him obey her. Maybe he needs you or me at his side to slap his hands if he tries to drink stuff he shouldn't? Or better, we claim the Daughter wishes us in attendance to cure him with our constant prayers?”

  She moaned. “How easily you expand the duties of the temple. And how is Tarvik supposed to know your plan?”

  “How about I go secretly tonight to warn him?”

  “Not without me.”

  After considera
ble arguing I was forced to accept, once again, this kid could at times be stronger and more stubborn than myself. What would Tarvik think, after showing me the secret door and telling me he trusted me, if I popped up in his room from the passageway entrance and brought along Nance?

  “No one knows of this passage, not even my father,” he had said, and put my fingers on the touchstones so that I could use the passage. “I trust you,” he had said.

  If I was not so sure Ober planned to damage the guy, I would never break that trust. Now I had to balance his anger against my fear for his safety.

  I told Nance, “He is going to hate me for this. But that's better than letting her drug him.”

  “Better for all of us,” Nance pointed out. “If Ober gains control, Stargazer, you'll end up roommates with the magician.”

  That was a yukky thought.

  That night Nance and I, wrapped in dark cloaks like cat burglars and led by a protesting Lor, crept from the stable and moved silently in the shadows of the shrubs and outcropping rocks.

  We left Lor at the trees near the castle wall to wait for us. I didn't have to tell him about the secret entrance. He was well aware of the sliding door into the stable and he wasn't dumb. Sure, he would have figured it out. He wouldn't tell.

  We were a stone's throw from the castle when we were challenged. The voice was sharp, dry, inhuman, put it all together and my closest description is that it sounded like a magnified scrape of bones.

  “Who goes there? Identify yourself.”

  Grabbing Nance's shoulder, I pulled her down flat on the ground and lay with an arm over her, did a whole lot of very soft whispering. “Shhh.” Because I figured he could probably hear us breathe.

  Lor's deep voice announced loudly, “Me. The stable keeper.” Lor seldom raised his voice, so the noise was to warn us and to cover up any sound we made.

  Nance lay motionless as she got the message. I slowly ran my hand up her back until I felt the fabric of her hood bunched at her neck, then pulled the hood up over her blond hair. My hair didn't matter because it was as dark as the night anyway.

  We raised our heads and I felt Nance gasp. Felt a bit like gasping, myself. We did both manage to keep still.

  “Why are you out?” the scratchy voice demanded.

  His silhouette was clear against the starlit sky, taller than most men, hooded, long cape swinging out above his narrow boots. Nance whispered, “Deathwalker.”

  Lor said, “Been at the kennel. Got a dog out.”

  “Have you found it?” The voice ran like ice cubes down my spine.

  “Not yet. Be going to circle the castle.”

  “Why would one of your dogs be at the castle?” The tall shape moved toward Lor, and it looked to me as though only the boots moved. No swinging of shoulders, or turn of head.

  “Wouldn't. Woods beyond, might go there. Rabbits.”

  The figure reached Lor and stopped in front of him. We could see them both, the deathwalker looming over Lor, Lor holding his ground, not backing so much as a half step.

  “Who is with you?”

  “You're right,” Lor said slowly. “Shoulda brought another dog.”

  “Not dogs. People. Who else is out here with you?”

  The persistence of the man was not good. I poked Nance, then starting inching on my belly toward the castle wall, trying to keep my face down so it wouldn't reflect starlight. The rest of me was fairly well concealed.

  Lor said, “Could use a lad to track dogs.”

  I dug my elbows into the ground and pulled myself forward and felt Nance move beside me. Slow going.

  As though Lor guessed as much, he actually kept up a conversation, maybe a first for Lor. “Don't got one.”

  “A boy to track dogs? What are you going on about, man? Can't you call the dog?”

  Lor did a very loud throat clearing, harrumphed a bit, coughed, then said, “Don't know dogs, do ya?”

  We were at the door. I looked over and saw Lor step slightly away so the man turned automatically to stay near him. Effective, but then, I knew Lor was clever. The deathwalker now had his profile to us and that meant the rim of his hood blocked any side vision.

  I stood up, touched the stone, and as the door slid open I reached back and pulled Nance through.

  “What's that! Did you hear that?”

  “Hear what? You hear the dog?”

  “Not your stupid dog! There's a person over there by the wall!”

  Not any more. The door was closed and Ober's man could wander up and down the wall all night, peering behind shrubs or running his hands along the stones. He wouldn't find a sign of us.

  Catching Nance's hand, I led the way. Throughout our blind journey down the black corridor I repeated to myself the arguments I would give to Tarvik, reasons he would have to accept. It would be no quick win. He would resist what would seem to him a coward's withdrawal from his duties as ruler. Also, a guy who carried a token of his promised beneath his tunic next to his heart seemed to me unlikely to suspect her of evil intentions.

  Now that I had talked with the magician, I was prepared to argue with Tarvik until daybreak, if need be, because I was so sure of the danger planned for him. And in one matter only was I wrong. I misjudged Ober. The woman had no patience, wasted no time.

  When I pushed aside the rug covering the opening to Tarvik's room, Tarvik sat alone on the stone floor, propped into a corner of the walls, his head dropped onto one shoulder, his eyes and mouth open but his mind and all his senses closed.

  I flew across the room and knelt beside him, grabbing his shoulders, then running my hands over his face and whispering his name.

  His skin was as cold as the stone walls.

  Nance stuffed her knuckles into her mouth to keep from screaming.