Shards of Time

  He went back up the tunnel and looked for a place to watch for Klia without being seen. He found a depression in the rocky hillside overlooking the site where he could lie down and settled in to wait.

  Lying still like this he didn’t get hungry quite as fast as he did when he was hiking around, but he’d still eaten twice before he saw Klia coming up the trail. He waited until she’d reached the entrance, making sure no one was following her, then whistled to catch her attention. She looked around quickly, then gave him a relieved grin as he scrambled and slid down to join her.

  “She may be watching.” She waved him into the shelter of the tunnel but pulled back from his touch. “Don’t. She smelled you on me last time.”

  “Of course. Klia, we’ve figured out a way to free you.”

  “Thank Sakor and Illior! How?”

  “Well, you’re going to open the seal.”

  She gave him an incredulous look. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I am. It’s the only way.”

  “I won’t do it! What is my life compared with the risk of letting her back into the world? We have no idea what she’s capable of. I don’t believe she’s shown me more than a particle of her power.”

  “We’re ready, Klia. We’ve killed a dyrmagnos before. All we need is for you to open the seal.”

  “Alec, it’s insane!”

  “That’s what Thero said, until we convinced him that it’s the best thing to do.”

  “No, I—”

  Alec took Thero’s sealed letter from his tunic and handed it to her. “He said you should read this before you make up your mind.”

  Klia broke the familiar wax seal and turned away to read it in the light from the mouth of the tunnel.

  My beautiful, beloved Klia, I have no doubt that you have refused to do as we ask. Please reconsider. If we do not destroy Rhazat now, there will always be the chance that the Great Seals will be broken again, when there is no one there to stop her from ravaging the island and the lands beyond. I believe she is weaker than she once was, after being imprisoned and without a food source for so long. We have the magic and the means to destroy her and we must. But more than that, I cannot bear to take your life and the life of our child by leaving you there and setting the seal. If you refuse to help us, then know that I will be dead a moment after Alec brings word of your answer. I do not mean that as a threat, my love, but tell you so you will know the truth. I cannot, will not live without you, though our spirits are forever apart, just as Khazireen and Nhandi are separated. He has mourned her for a thousand years and I suppose I will join him there. There is a role in this for you, Klia. You must help us. I know you have the means to do so. Rhazat must be with you when you do break the seal. You must, if you can, snatch away the false skin—Nhandi’s, we believe—that she wears and whatever power that it lends her. And you are armed. Beyond that, you must trust us and the Four. The fate of future generations lies in your hands. I do not have the words to encompass my love for you, except to say that my heart beats with the same rhythm for you as yours does for me, and I know your love for me is boundless. Please, my love, do as I ask. With all my heart I implore you. Thero

  Klia read it over twice, feeling every impassioned word strike at her heart and her resolve. She rubbed her eyes and turned back to Alec. “Do you really think we can destroy her?”

  “Yes, but not without you.”

  She pressed a hand to her brow, torn between hope and resolution.

  “Every Mourning Night, I watch you and the rest of your family make a sacred vow to protect Skala any way you can,” Alec said softly. “That’s what’s being asked of you now. We have to end her.”

  “I need time …”

  “We don’t have time.” He pointed at the cave. “The others are there in the darkness on the other side, waiting for you to do the one thing none of the rest of us can do. You have to bring her here and break the seal.”

  “And you?”

  “I’ll be working from this side. Another reason for you to hurry. I’ve only got so much food and I have to be strong enough to pull a bow. Once the seal is broken, magic should work here.”

  “So you believe she wears Nhandi’s skin as a disguise?”

  “Yes. Perhaps it even lends her some kind of power.”

  “That explains what I saw when I looked at her reflection and when I stabbed her.”

  “You stabbed her and she didn’t kill you?”

  “She won’t kill me as long as there’s any chance that I’ll do as she asks.” Klia kept the new scars on her hand and side to herself. “So, I’ll get her here as soon as I can.”

  Alec let out a pent-up breath. “You’ll do it?”

  “Yes. Keep yourself safe until I return.”

  “Eat first, before you go back.”

  Klia shook her head. “She can smell that, too. Besides, you’ll need every mouthful. Illior’s Luck to you, Alec.”

  “Sakor’s Flame to you.”

  Klia nodded and strode away up the tunnel. Skirting the town, she walked up the riverbank for a while, then turned and let herself fall to the ground as if in a faint.

  And then she waited.

  Rhazat descended the hidden stair that led from her chamber to the tower cellars to see to her remaining prisoners. There were only two now; she’d made them last as long as she could, like a child hoarding sweets, but she could feel herself beginning to fade. It was time to send out her hunters, and for that she’d have to fortify herself. It took food to get food. If noble Klia refused to comply for much longer, she would make a meal of her, too, before the precious life force left the woman’s body. Then she’d continue to bide her time; if a royal princess disappeared, others would surely come, or the hold of the seal would continue to weaken. As long as there were people on the island, she would not starve.

  Reaching the base of the stairs, she conjured a light and made her way through the echoing darkness to the chamber of cages. Fetid air greeted her as she opened the heavy door, and she breathed it in with pleasure. Decay and excrement were like perfume in her nostrils, rich and sensuous.

  Nine cage doors stood open, each with the rotting remains of a soldier she’d fed upon. The last two precious meals, a bearded male and a blond female, blinked in the glow of her light as she approached them. Rhazat stood a moment, trying to decide which sort of life she was in the mood for. Then the female began to cry and that decided her.

  “Poor dear,” Rhazat said with mock concern as she touched the lock on her cage. “The strain is too much for you, isn’t it? Come, let me grant you peace.”

  “Leave her alone!” the male snarled, reaching through the bars, clawing the air in her direction. “Take me, you bitch.”

  “Are you in such a hurry to die?”

  “No, Captain,” the female said, fighting to regain control of herself. “It’s my turn and I’m ready. I can’t stand another moment in this cursed place.”

  She walked out of the cage to stand at attention before Rhazat, who laughed merrily at such posturing.

  “Really, my dear, does it matter so much if you die with your head held high?”

  “It does to me.”

  “As you wish.” Rhazat grasped the woman’s head between her hands and pressed her lips to her brow, gasping with pleasure as the life force flowed into her. When it was done, she dumped the carcass back into the cage and licked her lips.

  “You might as well eat me, too,” the male said, bravado spent. It sounded quite dispirited.

  “I shall. Your friend wasn’t nearly as filling as I’d hoped.”

  As she’d anticipated, he came out fighting, but she still had enough strength to hold him by the throat and kiss away his life.

  She climbed the stairs to her chamber feeling positively spritely, then made her way down the main stair to the receiving hall, calling for Klia. “Come, my dear. Time for your luncheon!”

  When no answer came, Rhazat shrugged and went to the kitchen. If Klia was in the t
ower, she would have answered. She made no attempt to hide from her.

  In the kitchen she carved the remaining meat from the arm of the male she’d dined on two days before and transformed it into acceptable fare for her guest. Not so nourishing as it would have been as a direct source, but she could hardly expect Klia to willingly dine on her own people. Drawing the essence of the meat forth, Rhazat molded it into a sparrow pudding and a quince tart.

  When Klia still had not returned in time for the evening meal, Rhazat sent out a dra’gorgos, which soon returned with the limp body of the princess in its arms. She appeared to be in a faint. At Rhazat’s gesture, the dra’gorgos placed Klia on the floor of the receiving chamber and disappeared.

  Kneeling beside Klia, Rhazat gently patted her thin, pale cheeks. She was growing very thin. “Come, you must eat.”

  Klia’s eyes fluttered open, and she lay there looking up at Rhazat. “I’m not hungry.”

  “Of course you are. Why deny it?”

  She pulled Klia up and slipped an arm around her, guiding her back to the dining room and into a chair. “Just a simple meal, my dear, but you may have as much as you like.”

  Klia watched, listless as a doll, while Rhazat filled a plate and set it before her. She sat there, hands limp in her lap. A tear ran down her cheek, and more followed. She did not sob or wail, simply sat there in silent despair so sweet Rhazat was tempted to devour her on the spot.

  “What is wrong, my dear?”

  Klia kept her gaze on the plate and shook her head.

  “What’s that? I don’t understand.”

  Then, so softly Rhazat almost didn’t hear it, “I want to leave.”

  “Why the sudden change of heart?” she asked.

  Klia placed her hands over her belly where the child was stirring, and more tears rolled down her cheeks.

  “Ah, I see.”

  “Will you let me go, if I do what you want?”

  “Of course! I wouldn’t be so ungrateful not to. Are you saying you wish to break the seal?”

  Klia just sat there for another long moment, then gave an almost imperceptible nod.

  “Was that a yes?” Klia nodded slightly, but Rhazat wanted to savor her victory. “Say the words, my dear, so I can be certain we understand each other.”

  Klia closed her eyes, and more tears spilled from between her lashes. “I will break the seal. I will free you, if you promise to let my child and me live and go our own way, free of you forever. Swear you’ll have no further hold on us and I’ll do as you ask.”

  “Princess, you fill me with joy. All I ask is that you break the seal. Then you will indeed be free to go. I swear it by Seriamaius, whom I worship and hold most dear.” Never mind that the Eater of Death was the patron of liars and murderers, she thought with an inward smile. It was such a pleasure to see the first, cautious glimmer of hope in those tear-filled blue eyes.

  “Now eat, my darling, and then you must rest. Tomorrow is soon enough. I shall miss you, you know, although I liked you better when your pride had not been broken. Such a shame that it had to come to this, eh?”

  Klia sank her head in her hands. “Must you mock my shame?”

  “Where are my manners! I beg your pardon, my dear, only I am so pleased with your decision that I neglected to dissemble my true feelings toward you. Now eat.”

  Klia ate in grim silence. When her plate was empty she sat back and looked at Rhazat.

  “Please,” she whispered, blinking away more tears. “Can’t we just get it over with now?”

  “Tomorrow, my dear. Who would have thought you’d be in such a rush to betray your people?”

  The following morning Klia looked more dispirited than ever, but she ate heartily without being coaxed and rose as soon as she was finished. “I’m ready.”

  “Come along, then. Would you care to ride your horse one last time?”

  That struck a spark of feeling. “No,” Klia muttered, and said no more.

  Thero’s first act of preparation the previous day, after casting another light, had been to dry the floor of the cave. He sealed the cracks where water was leaking through, then translocated the water.

  “That was a necessary risk.” He sat down on a bedroll. “I mustn’t do anything else that uses a significant amount of my strength, apart from setting the wards, and that won’t take much.”

  He set out a large crystal box he’d summoned from his workroom, and two smaller ones he’d brought with him. Without head or hands, the rest of the dyrmagnos’s body would be little more than a useless revenant, incapable of much harm. Next, he took out two sacks, one containing gold dust, the other salt. With these he laid out the lines and patterns of the threshold spell. Even if Rhazat broke through the one at the wall, it might wound her so much that she would not be able to break through the one blocking the mouth of the tunnel.

  The rest of the salt and gold he sprinkled over their heads. It clung glittering in Seregil’s hair that hung beneath the head scarf and sparkled in Micum’s bushy eyebrows and moustache. He could only imagine what he looked like.

  “What does this do?” asked Micum.

  “I don’t know how much it takes to affect her, but this can’t hurt.”

  “I’ll take all the protection I can get.” Micum looked around the cave. “It’s bigger than I thought, but still close quarters.”

  Seregil’s dark laugh echoed among the dripstone formations. “All the more reason to make it a short battle.”

  They took watches after that. Micum went first and though Seregil tried to sleep, too many thoughts were racing through his mind as he tried to mentally prepare for the battle ahead. It was difficult to do, since no one knew what would happen when Klia broke the seal; perhaps they’d all end up crushed by a cave-in. When he finally did go to sleep, he dreamed of Alec, lost in darkness and calling his name. Seregil felt his way down an endless tunnel until he stumbled over something large and soft. Reaching down, he felt a head and a long braid, sticky with blood.

  He started awake, knowing he wasn’t going to sleep again until this was over. Micum was standing by the skull, yawning.

  “You were whimpering in your sleep, Seregil. Anything I should know about?”

  “Just a bad dream. Get some rest. I’ll take over now.”

  Micum went to the wall near Thero, rested his sword across his knees, and closed his eyes. It was only a moment before he was snoring softly.

  Seregil’s watch was uneventful. Micum woke and went above to see what time of day it was.

  Tonight it had been Vhadä who wasn’t ready to go to sleep. “Tell me more about your ghost, Mika,” he asked.

  “He’s nice. There was another one who broke my arm, though.”

  “So that’s what happened!” Vhadä’s eyes widened in the light from the night lamp. “I didn’t think ghosts could really hurt anyone.”

  “This one did. But all the others I’ve seen didn’t pay much attention to me.”

  “Others? How many have you seen?”

  Mika realized he’d probably said too much again.

  “Come on, Mika, we’re friends, too, aren’t we?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can’t you tell me about the other ghosts? I promise I won’t tell.”

  Mika still hesitated, but he didn’t want to hurt his friend’s feelings. “Well, I guess you know that the old governor was killed by ghosts.”

  “Everyone knows that.”

  “So that’s why my master came here: to try and find out how it all happened.”

  “What about the barons? Why did they go with him, and that big fellow with the red-and-silver moustache?”

  “They’re helping my master, but that’s all I can say.”

  “Are they really going to the oracle’s cave? What does that have to do with the ghost at the palace?”

  Mika had really talked himself into a corner now. “Can you really keep a secret?”

  Vhadä put his hand on his heart. “I swear by Illior’s owl
s.”

  “You just found out about them.”

  “Yes, but you said they’re sacred to the Immortal who watches over my people, so that’s a very serious oath. Come on, Mika, you’re making me itch I’m so curious.”

  “You really, really can’t tell anyone. There’s a bad thing at the palace, a sort of monster, and my master and his friends are going to kill it. But they have to go to the cave to do it.”

  “What kind of monster?”

  Mika shook his head. “I’ve already said too much. But they are very brave, and …” To his horror, his lower lip began to tremble as he thought of Princess Klia still caught in that bad place. “They’re very brave.”

  Vhadä patted his shoulder. “Don’t cry. Are you scared they’ll get hurt?”

  Mika wiped his nose on his arm and nodded. “But they’ve had lots of dangerous adventures and always come home. So I know my master will come back.”

  “Unless the monster kills him,” Vhadä observed, which only made Mika want to cry again. Embarrassed, he turned on his side and pretended to go to sleep. Worry was making him feel sick in his stomach.

  “I’m sorry, Mika,” his friend whispered. “I won’t ask any more questions. Good night.”

  Mika really tried to go to sleep, but he couldn’t after talking to Vhadä. At last he got up and got dressed as quietly as he could, then stole downstairs, keeping a sharp eye out for the ghostly woman. He didn’t see her, though, and made it outside to see if his ghost friend was there.

  He was, only this time he was up by the pond. Mika ran to join him. “Is my master safe? And the others?”

  The ghost boy didn’t seem to understand. Instead, he pointed urgently up the road again, just like the night before, and finally stamped his foot in frustration.

  “You really think I need to go back, don’t you?” Even though the boy didn’t really answer him, Mika had the strongest feeling that he was trying to warn him about something. “Is it about Rhazat?”

  The ghost understood that. He nodded and disappeared as if the very sound of her name had scared him away. Mika stood there, biting his lip as he tried to decide what to do. Master Thero had told him to stay here; there was no arguing that. He said he’d send for him if he needed him. But what if he couldn’t? What if Rhazat had caught him and was torturing him like she had Mika? Then his master couldn’t send for him, because his magic wouldn’t work!