Lisa Shearin - Raine Benares 01 (22 page)

He
looked down at the floor. “I wasn’t brave; I was scared.”

“You
were scared and you still attacked the prince to protect me.” I grinned.
“Sweetie, I hate to be the one to break it to you, but that’s called brave.”

He
looked up. “It is?”

“If
you
weren’t
scared and attacked the prince, that’d make you suicidal and
a couple of other things you don’t want to be.”

Piaras
almost smiled. “Thanks. Though none of this would have happened if I hadn’t
gotten myself caught.”

“True,”
I admitted. “But they wouldn’t have been after you to begin with if the prince
hadn’t wanted me. So all this is my fault. If there’s any apologizing to be
done, it should come from me.” I tried a weak grin and another hug. “Sorry.”

He
tried a grin of his own. His didn’t make it either. “It’s okay.”

“No,
it’s not. But it will be.”

I had
an idea, and if it worked, it would not only get us out of this room, but it
would go a long way toward giving Piaras back some of his self-respect.

“So,
how are your sleep spellsongs coming?” I asked casually.

I
felt his hand go ice cold beneath mine, and his shoulders went rigid. He knew
exactly what I had in mind. So much for the no-pressure approach.

“I
can’t put five goblins to sleep!”

“Ssshhh!”

“I
can’t!” he mouthed.

“Can’t
or just never tried?” I stopped. That was stupid of me. When would he have had
a chance to put goblin guards to sleep? Garadin said Piaras had the gift, and I
had seen proof firsthand, though not to the extent I was asking. Trial by fire
wasn’t the best kind of final exam, but we didn’t have any other options
available.

“Do
you need to see your subject while you work?” I made my voice all business and
no doubt.

Piaras
had his face in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees. He glanced sideways
at me and gave a single shake of his head. I couldn’t help but notice that he
looked a little pasty.

“Good,”
I said, trying to sound encouraging. “You can do this.”

“How
do you know?” He sounded as close to miserable, and sick, as possible.

“I
don’t.” I wasn’t going to be anything other than totally honest with him. He
deserved that much. Besides, he would know if I was lying to him, and that
would ruin any chance of this working. “But Garadin does, and I trust Garadin.
He said he’s never seen anyone with such a powerful gift.”

Piaras
lowered his hands. I saw a flicker of what may have been hope in his dark eyes.
Hope and surprise—and a healthy quantity of doubt. After all, this was Garadin
we were talking about.

“Garadin
said that?”

“He
did. He told me how you put everyone in the Mad Piper to sleep in just a few
measures.”

That
at least earned a crooked grin from Piaras. At this point I’d take any progress
I could get.

“They
were bored and drunk,” he said. But the grin had widened.

“According
to Garadin, they weren’t bored, and Salton Oakes didn’t get his shipment that
day and had to water down the ale. So they weren’t drunk, either. They were
bespelled—by your voice. Garadin told me he was very impressed.”

“He
didn’t tell me.”

“You
expected him to? Garadin doesn’t give out praise lightly. Trust me, I know.” My
godfather probably wouldn’t appreciate me telling his student how brilliant he
was, but if anyone needed a big dose of confidence, and needed it now, it was
Piaras.

I
could use some myself. Piaras couldn’t do his work until I did mine. Now that
we were away from the press of courtiers downstairs, I felt the ample wards
Primari A’Zahra Nuru had left behind to protect her beloved prince. If I failed
to block those wards completely, Piaras wouldn’t get past the first few notes
of his goblin lullaby. My job was to let the guards enjoy a sleepsong serenade
while covering the figurative ears of Primari Nuru’s wards.

Piaras
swallowed. “I’ll do my best.” His voice was firm and his eyes determined.

And I
would do mine.

“I’ll
shield you while you work,” I told him. “Once the guards are out, we’ll have to
move quickly. Once we’re on the estate grounds, stay close to me. Once we’re
off the grounds, stay
very
close to me.”

He
nodded solemnly. “I understand.”

He
didn’t, but I wasn’t going to be the one giving him the gruesome details of
what was waiting for us outside the estate walls—and probably inside as well.
He’d find out for himself soon enough.

My
part was almost as challenging as weaving a lullaby for five Mal’Salin royal
guards. More than five, actually, but I wasn’t going to tell Piaras that
either. I would shift my shields to let his song extend to the guards outside
our door. I didn’t want to be climbing down a potentially rotten trellis at
night with goblins at my back. I could feel Primari Nuru’s wards around and
inside the house. Once those were disturbed, Prince Chigaru would have every
guard on the estate after us. There were enough things out there without
Mal’Salin royal guards to deal with. I estimated it was about three hours until
midnight. During my previous visit to The Ruins, I had found out the hard way
that this was the height of feeding time. Not the best time to be out and
about, especially when those doing the feeding considered you tasty.

The
amulet, beacon, or whatever it was had been helpful until now, at least when it
came to shielding me. If it helped with what I was about to do, I would gladly
overlook its previous attempt on my life.

While
it wasn’t necessary for the goblin guards to actually hear Piaras’s song, it
was necessary that there not be any magical barriers in his way. Master
spellsingers could blast through just about anything, and while Piaras might be
able to do the same, the less work he had to do right now, the better. The
shields I was about to put up wouldn’t be a problem. They were to keep nosy
wards from listening in—Piaras’s song just needed to get out.

It
took a few minutes of concentration on my part to nestle my shields into place
just above the goblin primari’s wards. It was a good fit. Nothing disturbed.
Nothing activated. Everything shielded. Too well shielded. I did good work, but
this was way beyond my capabilities. Even Garadin might have been impressed. It
looked like the beacon was up to its new tricks, but I’d have to worry about
that later.

Now
it was Piaras’s turn.

He was
hesitant at first—not from any lack of knowledge of his craft, but from too
much knowledge of our situation. He knew what was at stake, and the pressure
showed. His first few notes were tentative as he felt his way through the
melody, concentrating hard to get just the right blend of tone and intensity.
Concentrating too hard. The song suffered as a result. It might cause a few
yawns down below, but that was about it.

I
held up a restraining hand. “Wait.”

He
stopped midnote, his face pale and strained. His breath seemed to stop as well.
This wasn’t going to work, not like this.

“You’re
trying too hard. I know you don’t want to hear this, but you need to relax.”

“Relax?”
Piaras’s tone and expression were equal parts panic and disbelief.

“I
know. Easier said than done.”

“Yes,”
he said, as if I couldn’t have uttered anything more obvious.

“You’re
going to have to ignore the goblins,” I told him.

“I’m
singing to them. The spell doesn’t work without an audience.”

“You
know what I mean. Ignore who and what they are. Think of them like the people
at the Mad Piper.”

“No
one at the Piper wanted to kill me.”

I
hated it when logic reared its ugly head.

“The
goblins don’t want to kill you either. At least not right now. That leaves you
free to think happy, peaceful, sleepy thoughts at them.”

Piaras
looked at me like I had lost my mind. I wasn’t entirely sure he was wrong. But
I was entirely sure that if he didn’t get this right, the goblins would kill
both of us, and there wouldn’t be anything happy or peaceful about it.

He
thought about it, decided something, but didn’t look happy with his decision.

He
sighed. “You’re right.”

I’m
glad he thought so.

I
took both his hands in mine. “You can do this. I know it, and so do you.”

He
began his song again. Quietly, shyly, but without the fear of his first effort.
The soft, gentle melody rose to weave a vision of warm spring evenings, the
golden pulse of fireflies, and the scent of night-blooming flowers. The song
rose and fell like rolling swells of a ship in a calming sea, or a mother’s
hand at a cradle. Floating above it all was the heartbreakingly beautiful song
of a nightingale.

I was
glad he wasn’t aiming at me.

I
casually strolled over to the window and looked down into the garden as if
admiring the view. I was. Goblins were dropping like flies. It started
gradually. A spear dropped from relaxing fingers. A head bobbed to an armored
chest. A goblin body leaned against the outer wall. Piaras accomplished it all
with extreme care and control. Garadin was right; Piaras had a genuine gift.
Tonight I was grateful for it.

I
returned to the settee. I couldn’t help but smile. “Good work,” I said in the
barest whisper.

For
the benefit of anyone who either looked or came into the room after we were
gone, I left an image of Piaras and I still seated and passively awaiting our
fate. Another shield would keep anyone from seeing us leave through the balcony
doors. My usual mirages looked solid enough, but they wouldn’t stand up to
touch, and would dissipate in about ten minutes—good old smoke and mirrors
magic.

What
sat looking back at me wasn’t my usual work.

If I
hadn’t known I was standing by the glass doors, I would have had a hard time
believing that wasn’t me sitting at the foot of the bed. Piaras looked
similarly challenged.

“That’s
good,” he said, looking a little wild-eyed.

I
swallowed. “Yeah, it is.”

I
tried to ignore myself sitting behind me and picked the lock on the glass
doors. The beacon apparently deemed me qualified, and let me do that all by my
lonesome. I was right about the trellis. It was iron, bolted to the house, and
built for the ages. I was grateful for the builder’s attention to detail. The
guards slept peacefully on the ground around us.

We
had to cross an expanse of lawn to get to the forest. It was windy, and the
clouds raced overhead. In a few seconds, I estimated a large cluster would pass
in front of the moon, giving us better cover for a dash across the lawn.

At
that moment, a goblin sentry came around the corner of the house and plowed
into Piaras. It was one of the guards who had pulled him off of Prince Chigaru.
Unfortunately, he remembered us, too. So much for quiet.

“You!”
he roared, and lunged for Piaras.

Piaras
jumped back with a startled yelp. He didn’t think, he just reacted—with a solid
right hook to the goblin’s temple. The guard dropped like a rock, a surprised
look frozen on his face. I was surprised, too, but for different reasons
entirely.

Piaras
stood over the sprawled form, stunned by his own handiwork. “That’s for calling
me bait,” he finally managed.

Someone
had been teaching Piaras bite to go with his bark. “Where’d you learn that?”

Piaras
winced and shook his fist against the sting. “Phaelan thought it was something
I needed to know.”

I
might have known. “What else has he been teaching you?”

Piaras
flashed a sheepish grin. “You really want to know?”

“Probably
not.” I peered out into the gloom. It looked as clear as it was probably going
to get, but not nearly clear enough. There were things out there. And
considering the hour, chances were better than average that we were going to be
meeting some of them. I stripped the goblin of his weapons and handed Piaras a
long dagger.

“Phaelan
teach you to use one of these?”

He
looked uncertainly at the blued-steel blade in his hand. “We’re working on it.”

“Hopefully
you won’t get a chance to practice tonight.”

I
took a curved sword and a pair of throwing knives. The guard probably had more
on him, but I didn’t want to take the time for a more thorough search.

We
ran across the lawn and into the cover of the trees. They were low and dark and
more than adequate to hide us. After we had gone about fifty yards, I stopped
and listened. No one was following. But that didn’t mean something wasn’t
following. I was quite sure something was, and I didn’t need the beacon humming
against the center of my chest to tell me about it. The hair on the back of my
neck was doing a fine job.

I
took us in a direct line away from the estate. Distance was more important than
direction right now. We were in The Ruins, so I could safely assume that
anything following us wanted to kill and eat us, and probably not in that
order. When I no longer felt anything breathing down my neck, I’d stop and get
my bearings. Our pace was even faster than the goblin guards had set bringing us
into The Ruins. Survival was a powerful motivator.