I knew that he had long since given up his desire to kill me. Peter was a good man. Over the years, working beside us, he had become a part of my family somehow. Now that Dorian was gone, there were few men I trusted as much as him. But he still carried the knife. It had been with him every day. A sign of his early intention, I knew it had become a symbol to him over time. It was precious. It represented his compromise and the bond of duty he had forged with my family.
“I have a knife, yes, my lord,” he answered from habit, returning to his old manner of addressing me.
“I know the meaning of the knife, Peter. I always have. I know why you carried it, and I understand why you kept it, even after you decided never to use it,” I said solemnly.
Eyes wide, he blinked—twice. Nothing like being told by your employer that he knew you had once planned to kill him. I had no time to mince words, though.
Reaching into my pouch, I withdrew the green stone that Lyralliantha had given me. “Hand me the knife,” I ordered.
Mutely, he reached into his coat and drew it out.
The pommel was plain round pewter. Using my fingertip and a bit of pure will, I dented the end of it and held the green stone against the indention. A quick spell fixed it in place. It wouldn’t last for more than a few weeks, but then again, it didn’t need to. “I am immortal now, Peter. The magic that sustains me will keep me forever, unless it is undone. It’s a spellweaving, and normally only one of the ancient She’Har could undo it, but this small stone was created as a weak point.”
“What are you saying?” he asked.
“There are worse things than death, Peter, and I am one of them. Mal’goroth will be here soon, but you won’t be. Wait twenty minutes after you have gone and then use your dagger to crush the stone, any hard surface will do,” I explained.
“I don’t understand.”
“Mordecai is still here, trapped,” I pointed at my chest. “Until the spellweave is broken, he will never find rest. Go with them, live. I will do what I can here, but I won’t win, and I can only imagine what Mal’goroth will do once he has me completely in his grasp.”
“This will kill you?” he stammered.
I nodded.
“I can’t do that,” he protested.
“You have to Peter. You’re the only one who can do it. You’re the only one who really deserves the right. After all these years if you can’t kill me for vengeance, then do it for the man you used to serve,” I told him.
“But you’ll die!”
“Brexus dies, Peter. You’ll be setting Mordecai Illeniel free. You owe him that. Let him rest in peace.” I had waited long enough. My time was up. With a word I used a spell to bring up a wind, pushing him away as it began to lift me.
“I won’t do it!” he screamed into the torrent.
“You will,” I said, making sure my words cut through the roar. “If we meet again, I will kill you.” Thrusting downward with the air I shot skyward. Most of the people below were already running into the keep. I hoped they would make it to safety, but I had done as much as I could.
Racing the wind I sought my opponent. Stupid never dies, said my inner companion. “It does today,” I answered, not caring if I was insane.
Chapter 41
Chel’strathek was waiting for me, just as he had promised. As I neared him, I felt a surge as the defensive shield was activated around Castle Cameron.
“Don’t trust me?” asked the monstrous spider.
“Just making sure we don’t inadvertently damage anything,” I answered.
“You’re a fool. My master will be here within minutes,” two of his legs came up, and with them two writhing lines of spellweaving rose toward me. “I only need keep you here long enough to wait on his pleasure.”
I didn’t answer. Instead I opened my hand and used a simple spell to send the iron spheres it was holding hurtling toward him in a multitude of directions. The air was lit with explosions, some of which tore through his spellweavings, while others slipped past to irritate the beast I faced. Withdrawing my staff from its pouch, I channeled a blazing line of white fire. It sliced through his body and burned a red line across the ground beneath him.
The damage was insignificant, though. It would take far more to subdue him. His body renewed itself almost instantly. It was a fight I knew I could win given enough time, but time was a luxury I didn’t have.
Reaching into my pouches again, I withdrew still more of my iron bombs. The chest that the pouch connected to was deep, and many years ago I had spent considerable time storing them there until it was full. Compared to my present power they represented but a feeble flicker, but I used them anyway.
Chel’strathek was moving now, sending his power out in wide ribbons. He fought not to hurt but to bind. His strength was not great enough to give him victory, unless I made some mistake, but he needed to be sure I couldn’t escape. I dodged them and sent more of my iron bombs flying toward him. Focusing my power, I danced around him like a mad bird, darting in and out to avoid his snares.
“Why do you keep using those pathetic iron things?” he exclaimed at last. “Have you no dignity?”
“I don’t know,” I answered loudly. “It may be that I’m too stupid to know when to quit.”
“There is a method to your madness,” he shouted back. “I can see that.”
I flew directly at him, and he flinched backward. He could sense the change in my demeanor. Playtime was over. I came to a sudden stop ten feet away. “You’re right. There may be a pattern here.” Raising my hand I gave him a glimpse of what I held there.
Chel’strathek snarled at me, “More baubles?”
“I may be a fool,” I answered, “but I can spot the difference between diamond and steel.” Speaking the command word, I channeled my power into the stasis enchantment as strongly as I dared.
Aythar surged into the enchanted diamond cubes. My darting flight and useless iron bombs had been a simple ploy to distract Chel’strathek while I set my trap. My opponent might have noticed if he had paid better attention, but his casual disregard for the ‘baubles’ had been his undoing.
Even so, while the area I had arranged the cubes in was much smaller than the capital, the massive aythar concentrated within that area, Chel’strathek’s aythar, resisted the enchantment. For that reason alone, I knew my trap wouldn’t work on Mal’goroth. Using it against a creature as powerful as Chel’strathek wasn’t really wise either, but in this case I outweighed him enough that I felt reasonably sure I could hold him.
My power filled the cubes, and it took far more than I expected. With at least half of my strength channeled within the cubes, the Dark God still struggled. He could no longer move freely, but he still moved, albeit at a slow crawl. Time within the stasis field had slowed but not yet completely stopped.
Standing in front of him, I worried over the next part. The central cube negated the effect of the stasis in a small volume of space around it, in this case an area roughly large enough to hold two or three people. With half of my power in the enchantment, I was no longer stronger than my foe. Moving close enough to finish the battle would be risky.
Chel’strathek’s bulk was great enough that only a small part of him would be released by the proximity of my null cube, or so I thought. No one’s ever done this before, so I don’t really have a damn clue.
Taking the plunge, I stepped close, reaching for him. His face registered surprise as I seemed to appear in front of him, moving, from his perspective, at an impossible speed. His time seemed to normalize as I drove my hand through his hard carapace, but he was still disoriented and dazed.
I pulled, devouring him as I had the usurper’s men in Albamarl. Caught off-guard, he was still incredibly powerful. His will reacted instinctively against the assault on his core, and our minds wrestled for a moment. It was too late for him though, I had taken too much in that moment of surprise. Laughing with a dark delight, I felt him weakening and I tore great pieces of his essence away.
The process accelerated as the scales tipped irrevocably in my favor.
I drained him until all that was left was a dwindling spider’s husk. Within it, the spellweaving that maintained his awareness still pulsed. I could feel it, but even with my newfound strength, it was impossible to destroy. I had reduced him in much the way Mal’goroth had done with the others, until there was little left other than his ‘god-seed’.
The cubes around me throbbed oddly, and I felt them begin to crumble. They still have enough power to destroy most of the region! Desperately I pulled the power from them, but I knew it could not happen quickly enough. Expanding my body, I felt the aythar rippling within them, unstable. With a sudden snap the diamond cubes disintegrated, releasing the power still in the enchantment.
Clenching my mind, the world disappeared in a blaze of swelling light and burning pain.
***
Penelope Illeniel, Countess di’ Cameron and widow of Mordecai Illeniel, stood in the castle courtyard, staring helplessly as the man she loved walked away. She had been dismissed. She felt the pain keenly, a message that hardly needed words. You betrayed him when he needed you. There will be no forgiveness. Be grateful and save the children.
That was the gist of it. That was all that remained.
Gritting her teeth she started moving. People had begun arriving, and among them were her children. Elise, Elaine, Lilly Tucker, and countless others were unloading. Moving quickly, mechanically, Penny began her task.
Get them to our apartments. Once there they would be safe. If she opened that door it would lead to their secret home, far away in the northern Elentir Mountains. It was their bolt-hole, their sanctuary. Mordecai had created it to keep his family from harm, whether he was present or not. They could survive there, isolated and hidden from the outside world.
We don’t have room for several hundred people, but I’ll be damned if I will leave them behind, she thought.
Moments later the shield went up. Walter had activated the castle’s defensive enchantment, a massive shield powered by the God-Stone.
Racing along the corridor, Penny reached their apartment door long before the others and threw it open. So long as the door stayed wide it led to their sanctuary. Once the doors were shut, the automatic portal would close and anyone who opened it afterward, other than Penny or her family, would find only the decoy apartment that they had maintained within the castle over the years.
Heading back down the stairs she gave directions to everyone she passed. Some of them knew the castle already, but most were from Arundel or Lancaster. Elise Thornbear passed her, tightlipped as she carried her granddaughter Carissa. Rose was close behind, leading Gram and carrying Penny’s daughter, Irene. Conall was holding Gram’s hand.
My family, thought Penny.
Lilly Tucker was climbing the stairs awkwardly, holding Moira’s sleeping legs while one of the men carried her torso. Two others followed with Matthew.
“Where’s Peter?” asked the Countess. He had been helping with Matthew when they arrived.
“Mordecai took him aside in the courtyard,” answered Lilly. “I don’t know what he needed.”
Moira Centyr was next, and she heard their conversation. “He’s still down there, guiding people into the keep.” Gareth Gaelyn walked beside her in his draconic half-human form.
Penny frowned. Maybe he gave Peter some task? She didn’t like being left in the dark. “I need to talk to him,” she said as she continued to make her way down the stairs against a constant stream of people.
“Let me help,” suggested Gareth, baring a mouth full of sharp teeth. His unnatural appearance frightened most who saw him and they instinctively moved to give him as much room as possible. Following him down the steps became almost as simple as if they had been alone. People fought to avoid any proximity with the scaled mage.
The courtyard was clearing rapidly. Doron and Millicenth had just arrived with the last civilians from the camp. Peter Tucker stood to one side of the great double doors, ushering people into the keep. “Head down the left-hand corridor,” he shouted. “Follow the others to the stairs, and go to the third landing.”
He gave the Countess a guilty look when she took his arm. “What did he tell you?” she asked, without preamble.
Peter’s thin façade crumbled into tears. “Forgive me, Your Excellency.”
“What?!”
“He knew. I’m not worthy to serve you. Please forgive Lilly; she never wanted to hurt anyone. It was only me,” blurted her head chamberlain. In all the years since he had joined their service, Penny had never known Peter Tucker to break down in her presence. She understood immediately what must be the cause.
“Please hush, you stupid man,” she told him, using harsh words, but a gentle, forgiving voice. “We always knew. The debt was ours, and you have only increased it over the years. You are family now.” She hugged Peter then, squeezing him tightly. “Get upstairs, Lilly is waiting for you.”
Taking a step back, the chamberlain produced a moderate-sized kitchen knife. Openly crying, he offered it to her. Penny had never seen it before, but she had heard the story of it long ago from her husband.
“Put that up before you hurt yourself,” she rebuked him. Waving him away, she ignored his gesture. “Keep it Peter. Mordecai never wanted you to forget, just to forgive.”
Hands trembling, he stared at her numbly for a second before nodding and putting it back within his coat. He was shaking like a leaf, and the Countess worried he might cut himself on the enchanted blade before he could safely store it. “Go,” she reiterated. “Make sure everyone is inside before you close the door to our rooms.”
Gareth Gaelyn still stood beside her, silent but with a pensive look. “That knife…” he said letting his words trail away.
“Mort told me it was one of the first he enchanted,” she explained. “It’s a long story. Don’t worry about it now.”
The draconic archmage furrowed his brow but nodded. It was not the first time he had seen magic that he didn’t understand, especially where Mordecai was concerned. But the stone, it didn’t look like a human enchantment.
Penny’s mind was already working on other things. Peter’s outburst had solidified her gut instinct. Telling him that was not the act of a stranger. Only Mort would say that to Peter. The more she considered it, the more firmly she believed it. The man inside the armor was more than a dead body, more than a magical copy. He was her husband, in every way that mattered.
The cold behavior and constant insistence of a different identity had been carefully calculated to make things easier for her. So I could let go. It would be much harder for me if I knew he was still in there, still suffering, if the man I loved were dying again, today. Unbidden, the vision of Dorian Thornbear’s diamond bladed hands struggling to push Rose away appeared in her mind.
Her heart and mind came together then, her emotions crystallizing into one hard resolution. “To hell with this!” she growled, startling Gareth from his own thoughts.
“What?” he asked as his eyes focused on her. In one hand he held a small white figurine.
She scowled. “I said, ‘to hell with this,’” she repeated. “If he thinks he can have things his way and run off to die, while I hide in a hole, he’s never been more wrong!”
Gareth stared at her curiously, unsure what to say. Despite his constant and unwelcome contact with humans, he still found them alien in subtle ways. Penny placed a hand on his arm, sending involuntary shivers up his spine. Gareth disliked being touched.
“Will you carry me to him?” she asked, her eyes burned into him with fiery determination.
The dragon-mage blinked. “If we are seen, your children will be orphans,” he warned her. “Mal’goroth will not let us escape.”
“We won’t be seen,” she assured him. Raising her voice, she called to Millicenth, “Lady, I require your aid.”
The goddess came closer, her body seeming to glide across the intervening space. “I am bound to
heed your words,” she answered.
Perfect, thought Penny. “Gather your brothers, Karenth and Doron. We are leaving. Wait for me here,” she commanded.
“That is unwise, Countess,” advised the goddess.
Penny ignored her and ran for the key chamber, hoping Walter would still be there. I’m tired of being told what’s wise and what’s not, she thought.
She nearly ran headlong into George Prathion exiting the key chamber. His father was close behind him. “Countess,” said Walter, greeting her. “Shouldn’t you be upstairs?”
“Is that where you’re heading?” she asked him.
“Of course,” he answered. “I’ve left the shield up as requested.”
“We’ve had a change of plans,” she said quickly.
Walter’s eyes narrowed. Penelope Illeniel was a strong willed woman, but she was a poor liar. “We?” he queried.
She pursed her lips, “I.”
He nodded, preferring honestly, “What do you want me to do?”
“Turn off the shield, and go with me to find my husband,” she answered with a perfectly straight face.
Walter was a cautious man, some thought him a coward, but time and experience had taught him some hard lessons. “Why?” he probed, “Is there something we can do?”
“I’ve been a fool, and now he’s going to make a martyr of himself. Hide us, let me reach him. If nothing else you can help him escape. You’re the only one who could do it. Only a Prathion would have a hope of eluding the power of a god,” her words were firm and unapologetic.
“One mistake and we all die. If not for your children’s sake, what of mine? I don’t want my family facing the terrors of our future without their father beside them,” he argued. In the past, when Mordecai and Penny had first encountered him, Walter’s family had been held hostage. Kept from them for years before reuniting, his sense of duty to his wife and children was paramount to him now.
Penny didn’t hold back. “You would have no family if not for Mordecai, nor would you be alive. You died and he brought you back. You owe him everything.”