Dragon's Tongue (The Demon Bound) (35 page)

“Watching you undo nearly a fortnight of planning and work,” Katrina said sourly.

Etienne noted that the guards traded uneasy glances, but showed no intention of fleeing. Katrina’s hard gaze fixed on them. “Well, don’t just stand there, you two. Go untie Arn. Now!”

Crossbow and sword rushed to their companion’s side and struggled with the tricky affair of knots Fenelon had used.

“These are your men?” Fenelon said.

“Hardly,” Katrina said. “They are locals who volunteered to come here and assist me.”

“To do what?” Etienne ventured.

Green eyes flicked in her direction as though measuring her. “And you are?”

“Etienne Savala,” Etienne said.

Katrina raised her brows just a hair. “Ah, yes. Turlough speaks of you with pride. I would think you were much too wise to be found in the company of my errant nephew.”

“Sometimes I wonder about that myself,” Etienne said, and enjoyed the sight of Fenelon wincing in dismay. “And this is my student, Shona.”

Shona managed a proper curtsey, though it was barely acknowledged.

“Now kindly explain to me why the three of you were attacking these poor men?” Katrina said.

“We had no intention of hurting them,” Fenelon protested. “We thought Tane Doran might be hiding here, and that they were his henchmen.”

“Why here?” Katrina asked.

“There’s a void here,” Fenelon said. “Wherever Tane went, there’s a void hiding him and Alaric. And Turlough said this place was one of the most likely voids to be useful to Tane.”

“Yes there is a void here, but the only person who has been in and out of this place over the last fortnight is me, and I think I would know if that wretched bloodmage was here. If you want Tane, I suggest you look around Dun Ferlie. Last time I sensed one of his ilk, they were flitting in and out of that dun.”

Dun Ferlie.
Eitenne sighed. The fourth Void. The last place they had planned to search.

“But before you chase after Tane, I think you owe me an apology,” Katrina said.

“For what?” Fenelon said.

“For ruining my trap. I’ve been trying to capture that darkling for three nights now. This was the closest we’ve gotten it to our trap.”

“Why would you want to capture a darkling?” Etienne asked.

“It is Turlough’s wish that we obtain a specimen. He wants to study its nature, and since this one was here terrorizing the locals for the last three months, we thought to take it and do them a favor. Now, it’s likely to go elsewhere to feed, and I shall have to track it all over. So if you will excuse me.”

Katrina gestured to the men who hurried over to join her. All save Arn. He cast a surly glance at Fenelon.

“Can I have my armor?” Arn asked.

Fenelon frowned as he shucked out of the bits of mismatched leather. He thrust them into Arn’s outstretched hands. The guard turned and marched away to join his companions. They followed Katrina through her spell gate.

“Lets get out of here before she decides to recruit us into her mad plan,” Fenelon muttered and began a gate spell that would take them back to where the horses waited. “Damn, Turlough. He knew she was here. He could have told us…”

Etienne smiled. “And why haven’t you mentioned your Auntie Katrina before?”

“You have to ask?” Fenelon said tersely as the world split open to let them step out of the forest and back into the copse where the horses were tugging nervously at their tethers.

“Well, yes,” Etienne said.

“Then remind me to tell you about her another time when I’m in a better mood,” Fenelon growled. “She’s not exactly one of my favorite relatives. She’s Turlough’s youngest sister, and she’s too much like him in a lot of ways…”

Etienne sighed and seized her mount’s reins. This was going to be a long, dull ride. Horses were not fond of gate spells.

At least we now know there is only one more place to look
, she thought.

She just hoped Alaric really was there. And after all this time, he was still alive.

THIRTY SIX

Alaric was dreaming of the tower at Gordslea Hold. He climbed its stone stairs, bathed in a strange bluish pallor as the strains of music floated down from above. Alaric followed the sound, reveling in its cheerful nature, eager to find the source. He reached the top step, pushed open the door and slipped into the chamber.

Firelight turned azure in the strange world of his dream, flickering behind two familiar figures seated there. Marda was leaning back in her chair, looking so much younger than Alaric remembered. Before her, seated on Alaric’s stool was Ronan Tey. The bard was bent over his small harp, pulling sweet notes from the strings. But he stopped and turned, and his eyes flashed a mixture of sorrow and joy.

“Alaric,” he said, his voice softly ringing like the harp he had stilled with his long fingers. “I’m so sorry…”

Alaric felt tears in his own eyes. “Why?” he whispered. “Look at the trouble you have caused me with this curse…look at what has happened to me. I…I…” His throat grew thick. “I loved both of you like a family, and you both betrayed me…”

He wiped a sleeve across his eyes as moisture flowed. Ronan’s expression became one of deep pain as he set his harp aside and rose from the stool to flow across the room like a spirit. “Alaric. Lark,” Ronan said. “Do not be afraid.” He pulled arms around Alaric’s shoulders and drew the youth close, kissing his forehead. Alaric felt the warmth of another soul embracing his own, sending comfort rolling through him.

“I had no choice,” Ronan said. “I had to keep this hidden. Had to rid myself of the burden before Tane caught up with me. My secret will be safe with you.”

“But Tane will have it now,” Alaric said, pulling away. “He’s trying to break me.”

Ronan nodded. “I know, but you have nothing to fear. I have arranged everything.” He glanced at Marda as he spoke. Alaric saw her face growing wet with tears.

“That’s my fault,” Marda said, and she glided across the expanse to join them. Her face shifted from young to old before Alaric’s bleary eyes. “I should never have…”

“Marda, this is not the time,” Ronan said.

Alaric clutched himself and turned away. “But Tane…He will find the secret now, won’t he?”

“Perhaps,” Ronan said.

“And then he will kill me,” Alaric said and shivered. “He will feed me to that silly demon and…”

“There may yet be a way to stop him,” Ronan said. “But you must trust me, Alaric. You must do exactly what I say.”

Alaric whipped around. “And what price would that trust hold?” he asked. “My life? My soul? How can I trust you after…”

“Silence!” Ronan shouted, and the very commanding presence of his voice took Alaric’s speech away. “You must do what I ask, when I ask, or all will be lost!”

Alaric pulled back, unsure as to why, but he felt as though he was being dragged from the tower and sucked out of the dream by a stinging blow that came from no where.

“Wake up!” a voice called from afar.

“Do as I ask,” Ronan whispered.

“Wake up!” The voice was more persistent, and the burn that warmed Alaric’s face again knocked his head off to one side. With a choking gasp, he opened his eyes.

Tane was there, face set in a frown. “It’s about time you woke up,” the bloodmage said.

Alaric shivered.
Ronan?
he thought. Why could he still feel Ronan’s presence?

“Let us begin once more,” Tane said. His fingers supported Alaric’s head while his thumbs pressed the young man’s temples and drew circles there. “Relax. Open your mind to me.”

Alaric tried to pull away.

“Do not fight me!” Tane snapped and pushed Alaric’s head hard against the wooden back of the chair.

Alaric froze. Tane took a deep breath and resumed the gentle massage.

“That’s a good lad,” Tane said. “Now, look at me. Relax and let me in…”

Alaric tried to relax. It was hard. Fear seeped into him with the bloodmage’s cold essence. Horns, it was almost like being raped the way Tane’s essence thrust this way and that without any respect, pushing aside the memories he had already seen in search of new ones. This time the bloodmage was not gentle. He forced himself around, battering the slightest resistance with heavy precision. Alaric knew he was resisting in a small way. He couldn’t help it. Tane was too strong and had no qualms about mentally lashing out so his presence would be cold as ice one moment and hot as fire the next.

All through it, Alaric could see the various scenes of his life with Ronan Tey. Of the times they sat up in the apple tree together, tossing fruit down to Marda who caught them to fill the basket. Of singing duets before the family hearth, watching appalled as his sisters continually flirted with Ronan and tried to make Alaric miss a note or two of the song.

Tane examined these things then shoved them aside. “It has to be here…has to be here,” Tane’s voice muttered coldly.

Then he found the stairs and unfathomable dread rose in Alaric’s heart.

“No,”
Alaric felt Ronan whisper from afar.

Tane ascended the stairs to the tower, dragging Alaric’s presence of mind in his wake. He broke down the door with a wave of his hands and entered into the room, and then walked straight over to the dreaded wall.

“This has to be it,” Tane said.

Alaric wanted to flee that place, and his dread of the wall rose like bile, but Tane’s strength of will was great, too strong to allow Alaric to break free. The bloodmage’s essence greedily attacked the wall, pushing at its giving surface. That it did not burn Tane amazed Alaric. Tane merely pushed again, and his hand stroked the amulet of harp wire and bones hanging from around his neck.

Alaric felt Ronan’s presence as though the bard were right at Alric’s side. But Alaric was unable to break off watching Tane to look around and be sure. And besides, Tane was casting his strength against the gelatinous wall. He was burning it away, opening a hole into the other side.

A song began to swell. Words in an ancient tongue flowed through the hole. Tane jerked them out, absorbing them, filling the air with brilliant images. A pair of mountains. A waterfall. A valley encased in ice. A cave. The song spread all these around, and Tane laughed.

“I will be a god!” he cried. “Oh Mother of Shadows, I will set you free, and I will be a god!”

“No!” Alaric cried in vain. “No!”

Stop him
. Ronan’s voice vibrated inside Alaric.

“I can’t,” Alaric said.

“Stop him!” Ronan said.

“I don’t know how…I can’t…I…”

“You have the ring,” Ronan said. “Take my hand…”

“Take my hand…”

An image appeared before him. Ronan gathered like a mist, stretching a bony grasp. Alaric wanted to scream as much at the sight of the skeletal apparition as at the shadow the song was giving birth to; a great winged shadow with cold eyes that stretched to cover the land.

“Take my hand.
Alaric, open your eyes.
Take my hand…”

Alaric opened his eyes. Tane was there. His eyes were closed as he leaned over the youth trapped in the chair.

Take my hand.

Alaric’s arms were pinioned by the shackles to those of the chair. But as Tane leaned and chanted in a strained voice, the bone amulet dangled close.

Take my hand.

Alaric struggled to shift…to reach.

Take my hand…

Alaric’s head thundered. Tane was shredding the wall to take the rest. Alaric stretched fingers and hit the bones. He started them swinging towards the hand on which he wore the silver ring Marda had left him. Her treasure. Her prize…a gift from Ronan Tey.

The bones swung back and forth like a pendulum, and on the third try, Alaric seized them in his grasp. They suddenly crumbled into dust.

Cold fire raced into Alaric’s hand and up his arm. Cold fire burned in his mind.
Ronan!
It was Ronan Tey’s essence, bitter as cinnamon and bright as white fire. Ronan’s spirit tore into Alaric’s mind like a fury and went after Tane. Alaric screamed, and his voice was echoed by another. Tane howled, lurching back, letting go as he stumbled and fell down. There were voices shouting but Alaric barely heard them now. His own head thundered. Ronan was there Ronan was inside Alaric, fighting to give voice to spells Alaric did not know. The cold fire rampaged until Alaric could no longer bear its weight. His mind turned to blackness and only then did the pain go away.

~

When Tane screamed, Vagner lurched over to the circle’s edge. The bloodmage fell away from his victim, dropped to his knees and clutched his head between his hands. Bone powder left a wide swatch across his clothes. He coughed at the dust he inhaled. But because of the circle, Vagner could come no closer. The demon cursed. Fine mess this was.

“Tane!” Vagner said. “Tane, answer me!”

But Tane crawled about like a wounded beast, clutching his head and moaning in pain. The bandits traded frightened looks, slowly backing away from the circle. If they fled and Tane passed out as the youth had, there would be no one left to assist the bloodmage.

By the black barb, what did you do to him, little bard?
the demon thought.

“Tane!” Vagner called again.

“Shut up, damn you,” the bloodmage hissed and used the back of the chair to clamber back to his feet. “Your voice is thunder in my head, demon. Be quiet!”

Vagner said nothing. Slowly, Tane reared upright. He passed a hand through the air in the general direction of the edge of his circle of power and whispered the words of the spell. The glow of magic died. Two steps from the chair, Tane collapsed again. Vagner rushed in to offer help, only to be shoved aside. The bloodmage turned towards the three bandits cowering like frightened deer at the door.

“You two,” Tane said, gritting his teeth in a tight white line. “Unchain him and take him back down to the cell…lock the door. And you…” His gaze turned on Vagner, sinister in its amusement. “Stay with him, demon. Should he revive, keep him off the dais until I come down. Do you understand?”

Vagner nodded, not liking the secrets whispering from those hooded eyes.
What are you plotting now?
the demon thought.

“Then go!” Tane said. He gestured to the leader of the bandits. “You come here and assist me…”

The man obeyed as Vagner helped the others with Alaric’s removal. As the demon followed the bandits and their unconscious prisoner, his own unease grew tenfold. The leader of the bandits helped Tane off the floor, but the bloodmage merely shook his head.

“Don’t bother,” Tane said softly. “I need to rest a moment. I have another task for you and your men.”

Another task?
The demon whisked over into the shadows, then slipped closer to the door.

“Lock them both into the cell, then lock the doors leading into the dungeons. I no longer have need of the young man or that wretched creature.”

“But…” the bandit began.

Tane raised a hand. “You and your men will find a chest of silver down in the great hall. It’s hidden beneath the second stair. It’s yours, payment for your services…but I expect two things in exchange, and you know that if you do not do as I ask.”

“Name it,” the bandit leader said. He already knew the price disobedience carried.