Kyralia 01 - [Black Magician 03] - The High Lord

  The main door opened again. Regin pretended to struggle with the doorhandle. Sonea felt her heart begin to race as one of the Ichani men stepped into the room. He looked at Regin, then down at the table.

  “So I guess you won’t be too eager to save him if the Ichani doesn’t fall for the bait,” Faren whispered.

  “Of course I’ll save him,” Sonea muttered in reply. “Regin might be a…a…whatever, but he doesn’t deserve to die.”

  As the Ichani looked at Regin again, the boy pressed his back to the door, his face deathly white. The Ichani moved around the table. Regin slid around the wall, keeping the table between him and the Sachakan.

  The Ichani chuckled. Reaching out, he took one of the glasses and lifted it to his lips. He sipped and grimaced. Shrugging, he tossed the cup away. It shattered against the wall, leaving a splash of red.

  “Is that enough?” Sonea murmured.

  “I doubt it,” Faren replied. “But he’s got the idea, and might go for something fresher.”

  The Ichani began to walk around the table. Regin edged away. Suddenly he leaped forward and grabbed a bottle of wine by its neck. The Ichani laughed as Regin brandished it threateningly. He made a quick gesture. Regin staggered forward as if struck a heavy blow from behind and sprawled face first on the table.

  The Ichani grabbed Regin by the back of his neck and held him down. Sonea grasped the handle of the door, but Faren caught her wrist.

  “Wait,” he whispered.

  The Sachakan took the bottle from Regin’s hand and regarded it. The cork slowly wriggled out and fell to the floor. He lifted the bottle to his lips and gulped several mouthfuls. Beside her, Faren let out a sigh of relief.

  “Is that enough?” Sonea breathed.

  “Oh, yes.”

  Regin writhed on the table, knocking plates and cutlery flying as he struggled against the Ichani’s grip. The Sachakan took another swig from the bottle, then smashed it against the table. He reached toward Regin with the broken end.

  “That’s not good,” Faren said. “If he cuts Regin the poison will—”

  The door behind the Ichani opened. Sonea’s heart skipped a beat, but Akkarin didn’t leap out. The corridor beyond was empty. Hearing the noise, the Ichani twisted around. He stared at the open door.

  “Good. That’ll delay him a little longer,” Faren muttered.

  Sonea held her breath. The door handle was slippery with sweat in her grasp. If she and Akkarin revealed themselves to the Ichani, he would call out to Kariko. It would be much better if the man succumbed to the drug instead.

  “Here we go,” Faren said quietly.

  The Ichani suddenly released Regin and staggered away from the table. As he clutched at his stomach, Regin hauled himself up and ran through the main doors.

  —Kariko!

  —Rikacha?

  —I have…I have been poisoned!

  Kariko did not reply. The Ichani dropped to his knees and doubled over. A long, low moan escaped his mouth, then he vomited up red liquid. Sonea shivered as she realized it was blood.

  “How long until he’s dead?” she asked.

  “Five, ten minutes.”

  “You call that quick?”

  “I could have used roin. It’s faster, but bitter.”

  Akkarin appeared in the open doorway. He stared at the man, then pulled off his shirt.

  “What is he doing?” Faren asked.

  “I think…” Sonea nodded as Akkarin stepped forward and wrapped the shirt around the man’s head. The Ichani shouted in surprise and tried to pull it off.

  —Sonea.

  Akkarin’s mental voice sounded different—clearer—through the ring. She opened the door and hurried to his side.

  —Hold this for me.

  She took hold of the shirt and held it tightly. The man continued to struggle, but there was no strength in his movements. Akkarin drew out his knife, cut the man’s arm and pressed his hand to the wound.

  Sonea felt the Ichani go limp. It did not take long before Akkarin released him. As she let go of the shirt, the dead man slumped to the floor. She felt a wave of nausea.

  —That was horrible.

  Akkarin looked at Sonea.

  —Yes. But at least it was quick.

  “It worked. Good.”

  They both looked up as Regin entered the room. He regarded the dead Ichani with satisfaction.

  “Yes,” Sonea agreed. “But we won’t be able to do it again. The other Ichani heard him say he was poisoned. They won’t fall for the same trick.”

  “But your assistance is appreciated,” Akkarin added.

  Regin shrugged. “It was worth it to see one of those bastards get it.” He put a hand to his throat and grimaced. “But I’m not sad to hear I won’t have to do that again. He nearly broke my neck.”

  Every man ought to have an ambition, Cery told himself as he stepped between the broken gates. Mine is quite simple: I just want to get inside all the important places in Imardin.

  He was proud of the fact that, though he hadn’t quite turned twenty yet, he had managed to enter almost every major building in the city. The exclusive areas of the Racecourse had been easy enough to sneak into disguised as a servant, and his lock-picking skills had gained him entrance to some of the mansions within the Inner City. Thanks to Sonea, he had been inside the Guild, though he would have preferred to have succeeded because of his own skills rather than because he had been taken prisoner by a meddling, bigoted magician.

  As he crossed the courtyard, he couldn’t help smiling. The Palace was the one important place left in Imardin he had never been able to sneak into. Now, with the Guard defeated and the heavy Palace gates hanging from their supports, nobody was going to prevent him exploring.

  Not even the Ichani. According to the watchers posted by the Thieves, the Sachakans had left the Palace an hour ago. They had been inside the building for only an hour or two, and could not have destroyed everything in that time.

  He stepped over the charred bodies of guards and peered through the broken doors of the building. A large entrance hall lay beyond. Delicate staircases wound up toward the higher levels. Cery sighed with appreciation. Moving inside, he wondered why the Ichani hadn’t destroyed them. Perhaps they didn’t want to waste their powers. Or perhaps they had quite sensibly left the stairs standing so they could reach the upper floors.

  Cery looked down at the mullook symbol on the floor. He doubted the King was still in the Palace. The ruler had probably left Imardin once the Inner Wall fell.

  “Avala is going to be a problem.”

  “Probably. She likes to wander. I expect she’ll wander away from Kyralia soon enough.”

  “Got her eye on Elyne, I suspect.”

  Cery spun around. The voices were distinctly Sachakan, and were coming from beyond the Palace entrance. He cast about, then ran toward an archway at the back of the hall. Just after he had skidded through it, he heard their footsteps echo on the hall floor.

  “We all heard Rikacha’s call, Kariko,” a third voice said. “We know how he died. He was a fool for eating their food. I don’t see why we need to come back here to discuss his mistake, and Avala and Inijaka probably agree.”

  Cery smiled. So Faren’s nasty little trick had worked.

  “Because we have lost three already,” Kariko replied. “Any more, and it might be more than bad luck.”

  “Bad luck?” the first Ichani scoffed. “The Guild got Rashi because he was weak. And Vikara might still be alive. We can only be sure that our slaves are dead.”

  “Perhaps,” Kariko agreed. He sounded distracted. “But there is something else I want to show you. See these stairs? They look fragile, don’t they? As if they shouldn’t be able to hold their own weight. Do you know how they stop them falling down?”

  There was no reply.

  “They put magic in them. Watch this.”

  Silence followed, then a tinkling sound. The sound grew louder, until the hall suddenly filled with a c
rashing and shattering. Cery gasped and peered through the archway.

  The staircases were collapsing. As Kariko touched one railing after another, the beautiful structures buckled and dropped to the floor, fragments scattering everywhere. One slid in Cery’s direction. An Ichani glanced toward the archway, and Cery quickly ducked out of sight.

  Leaning against the wall, Cery closed his eyes. His heart ached that something so beautiful could be so carelessly destroyed. From the hall he could hear Kariko laughing.

  “Magician-made, they call it,” the Ichani said. “They put magic in their buildings to strengthen them. Half the houses in the middle of the city are made this way. What does it matter that the city is deserted? We can gather all the magic we need from the buildings.” His voice lowered. “Let the others wander for a while. If they had returned here, as I instructed, they would know this, too. Come with me and we’ll see how much power the Guild has left us.” Footsteps followed, then stopped. “Harikava?”

  “I’m going to have a look around here. This place is probably full of magically strengthened structures.”

  “Just don’t eat anything,” the third Ichani said.

  Harikava chuckled. “Of course not.”

  Cery listened as the footsteps retreated and faded away. One set remained, however, and his heart sank as he realized they were growing louder.

  He’s coming this way.

  Looking around, he saw that he was in a large room. Several archways broke the walls on his left and right. He hurried through the closest one. A corridor ran parallel to the room and a passage intersected with it opposite each archway. Cery cautiously peered out.

  The Ichani stood within the room. He glanced around, then looked in Cery’s direction. As he started toward the archway, Cery felt his mouth go dry.

  How does he know I’m here?

  He didn’t fancy waiting to find out. Turning from the archway, he dashed away into the Palace.

  36

  An Unlikely Rescuer

  A distant boom echoed through the passage. Akkarin exchanged a glance with Sonea, then moved to a ventilation grille set into the wall. She looked out into the alley beyond and listened carefully. Normally there would have been a constant hum of activity, but instead there was only an eerie silence.

  Akkarin frowned, then signalled for their guide to continue. For several minutes the only noises were the soft sound of breathing and the tap of booted feet on the floor. Then Akkarin stopped abruptly and his gaze shifted to the distance.

  “Takan says messengers are reporting that Kariko has come back out of the Palace again. The Ichani are destroying buildings.”

  Sonea thought of the faint boom she had heard, and nodded. “They’re wasting their strength.”

  “Yes.” He smiled and his eyes gleamed with an old, familiar predatory light.

  Approaching footsteps drew their attention to a shadowy figure farther down the passages.

  “Looking for the foreigner?” The voice was aged and female. “He just broke into a house near here.”

  Akkarin started toward the old woman. “What can you tell me of the place?”

  “Belongs to House Arran,” she said. “Has a big stable, and a yard in front, and a house the other side. Walls around it. No passages under it. Have to get in from the street.”

  “How many entrances?”

  “Two. The main one at the front, and a gate to the yard. The foreigner got in through the front.”

  “Which is closest?”

  “The gate.”

  Akkarin looked at Sonea. “Then we’ll go in that way.”

  The old woman nodded. “Follow me, then.”

  As they started through the passages again, Sonea touched the ring on her finger.

  —What are you planning?

  —I’m not sure, yet. But I think it might be time to use your method.

  —My method? You mean Healing?

  —Yes.

  —Then I should do it. He’ll probably recognize you, but he might not recognize me.

  Akkarin frowned, but didn’t answer. The woman led them to a small door, which they squeezed through one by one. On the other side was a room full of barrels.

  “We’re inside a house on the other side of the street,” the woman explained. “Just go up those stairs, and out the door at the end of the hall.” She smiled grimly. “Good luck.”

  Following the woman’s instructions, Sonea and Akkarin reached a sturdy servants’ door. The lock was broken. Akkarin peered out, then pushed through. They stepped out into a typical Inner Circle street. Across the road was a plain wall, broken by a pair of large wooden gates. Akkarin strode swiftly to them, and looked through the narrow gap between.

  “There are two entrances to the house from the courtyard,” he said. “We’ll enter through the closest.”

  He glanced at the lock, and it clicked open. Sonea followed him through and shut the gate behind her. A large rectangular yard spread before them. To the left was a long building with several wide doors—the stable. To the right was a two-story house. Akkarin hurried to the house, manipulated the lock of a door, and they slipped inside.

  A narrow corridor lay beyond. Akkarin gestured for silence. A distant creaking and footsteps from the floor above reached their ears.

  Seeing a movement in the corner of her eye, Sonea glanced out a small window beside the door. She caught her breath as she glimpsed two magicians and a richly dressed man hurrying toward the stables.

  Akkarin moved to her side. The three men reached one of the large stable doors. The magician’s companion threw the door wide, obviously expecting it to be heavier than it was. Sonea caught her breath as it smacked against the wall.

  Hurried footsteps sounded above her. The three men disappeared inside the stable, leaving the door open. Silence followed. Sonea felt her mouth go dry as more footsteps sounded above. There was a pause, then a door closed and an Ichani strolled out into the yard. He stopped at the center of the courtyard and looked around carefully. Seeing the open stable door, he started toward it.

  “I don’t like it, but you’re right. Inijaka will recognize me,” Akkarin murmured. He looked at Sonea. “We don’t have time to come up with a better plan.”

  She felt a chill run down her spine. It was up to her, then. All the possible ways the Healing trick could fail ran through her mind. If the Ichani shielded, and she couldn’t touch him, and then she wouldn’t be able to use her Healing powers, and…

  “Will you be all right?”

  “Yes,” she replied. She glanced outside and saw the Ichani disappear inside the stable.

  Akkarin drew in a deep breath, then opened the door for her. “I will be watching. If it doesn’t work, shield. We’ll fight him openly instead.”

  Sonea nodded, then stepped out into the yard and hurried across to the stable entrance. Peering inside, she tried to make out details in the dim interior. A figure was walking down a wide aisle between stalls. The Ichani, she guessed. He moved through a door in the far wall and out of sight.

  She stepped inside. As she started down the aisle, three figures hurried out of a stall. They saw her and froze. At the same time, Sonea saw the face of the richly dressed man and felt a shock of recognition and dismay.

  —You didn’t tell me it was the King!

  Kyralia’s ruler looked her up and down, his eyes widening in recognition. Watching him, she felt dislike and anger stirring. A memory rose of the Guildhall. Of the King endorsing the Guild’s punishment of exile. Then she thought of the Purge and of her aunt and uncle being driven out into the slums. She thought of the dwells hiding in the passages, never warned of the coming invasion.

  Why should I risk my life for this man?

  The moment the question ran through her mind she hated herself for asking it. She could not abandon anyone to the Ichani, no matter how much she disliked them. Straightening, she stepped aside.

  “Go,” she told them.

  The three men hurried past. As th
ey moved out of sight, Sonea heard a noise in the room beyond the far wall. Turning around, she saw the Ichani returning. His eyes met hers, and he smiled.

  It was not hard to feign terror as he started toward her. She backed toward the doorway and felt the sting of a barrier. The Ichani waved a hand and she felt a force push her forward. Resisting the urge to throw it off, she allowed herself to stumble toward him. When he was a mere step away, he looked her up and down.

  “So there are a few Kyralian women here,” he said.

  Sonea struggled as the force enveloped her, holding her arms against her body. Her heart began to race as the Ichani moved closer until she could feel his breath on her face. He slid his hands under her shirt. She stiffened with alarm and horror as she saw his expression change to a lecherous sneer.

  A wave of panic rushed over her. She couldn’t move, so she couldn’t touch him. If she couldn’t touch him, she couldn’t use her Healing powers on him. And if he proceeded much further, he would discover the black robes beneath her ordinary clothes.

  —Fight him, Akkarin urged.

  She sent out a wave of force. The Ichani’s eyes widened in surprise as he was pushed away. Striding after him, she attacked quickly and rapidly. He planted his feet, raised his hands and sent a strike in return. She staggered backward as it pounded her shield.

  He laughed. “So they were robes I felt under that shirt. I wondered where all the magicians went.”

  Sonea felt a surge of hope. He thought she was an ordinary Guild magician. She could still attempt to trick him if she pretended to grow weak with exhaustion.

  —I’m outside the door, Akkarin sent. What do you want me to do?

  —Wait, she told him.

  When the Ichani struck again, she let herself stagger away until her back met the wall. He advanced, and she cringed as he struck again. At the fourth strike, she let her shield waver. He smiled maliciously as it fell, took out his knife and held it between his teeth.

  She moved as if to dodge as he reached for her. Catching her arm, he hauled her back and pressed her against the wall with one hand. She grabbed his wrist, closed her eyes and sent her mind into his body.