Lisa Shearin - Raine Benares 01 (46 page)

I
didn’t move.

Tiny,
pale lights appeared and flickered in the trees on the opposite side of the
clearing. Each flicker brought them closer to us. Fire pixies. No doubt they
considered the stone altar one big buffet. My job tonight was to make sure
every last one of them went to bed without supper. The guards had probably rung
the dinner bell the moment they chained Piaras to that altar.

“I am
but a student, Mistress Benares,” Sarad Nukpana was saying. “There is much to
learn, and much to be accomplished. You will assist me in my work.”

He
placed the casket on the altar and opened it. Piaras seemed to stop breathing.
So did I.

Nothing
happened. The Saghred didn’t steal anyone’s soul. My father’s ghostly hands
didn’t shoot out and wrap themselves around the goblin’s throat. Absolutely
nothing.

I
expected something. From Nukpana’s expression, nothing was precisely what he
expected.

He
lightly caressed the stone’s surface. “Such a simple thing, is it not, Mistress
Benares?”

My
breath caught and my heart hammered in my chest. I actually felt the lightness
of his touch, the warmth of him as if his fingertips had touched me, not the
stone. I wondered if by controlling the Saghred, he could control me. That
wasn’t about to happen, not if I had anything to say about it. I tried not to
think that I might not have any say.

“You
still do not understand, do you?” he asked when I didn’t respond.

His
hand remained on the stone, and I felt a warm pressure heavy on the back of my
neck. I didn’t know if he was aware of the connection. I felt a shudder coming
on and stopped it.

“You
fear what the Saghred would give,” he continued, “because you do not know the
extent of its gift.”

“I
never considered madness a gift.”

“Madness,
or an unfettered mind?” His voice was soft and coaxing. “A mind without limits,
free to do, to accomplish anything it can imagine. To be without boundaries. As
the daughter of Eamaliel Anguis, you will have the honor of experiencing power
beyond that of every mage on the Isle of Mid combined. Power the Conclave and
their Guardian pets want for their own. Your powers will continue to grow. They
fear that. I do not.”

The
stone gleamed in the moonlight and waited. Waited for the decision I didn’t
want to make.

A
fire pixie glowed and fluttered near the altar. Either it was the same pixie
that had bitten Piaras two nights ago, or it was her twin sister. Or maybe all
fire pixies looked alike. I didn’t know. I didn’t care.

The
grand shaman drew a dagger out of his robes. I’d seen its twin last night. A
foot-long triangular blade, jewel-encrusted grip, pommel topped with a ruby the
size of a child’s fist. That one had been used to tack Nukpana’s letter to me
to the embassy gates. I was right; the crazies always carried spares. He put it
on the altar next to the casket.

Piaras’s
dark eyes met mine, wide with panic and terror—and hope. A muffled sound came
from behind his gag. He hadn’t given up, not yet. He had no idea what I was
going to do to keep him from taking that dagger through his heart, but he was
hoping I knew.

I
did.

The
goblin grand shaman lifted the Saghred out of the casket and set it on the
altar next to the dagger.

A
male pixie clothed in blue flame darted in front of my face, then dove for my
neck. I swatted at him, and he fled. Only after he had gone did I feel the
sting. I touched my neck and my fingertips came back wet with blood.

The
smell of blood, and the promise of more lured in more fire pixies. They were
being cautious—all except Piaras’s pixie. She fluttered around Sarad Nukpana
and Piaras, glowing bright orange, eager to feed. Beauty, but no brains. She’d
be better off taking her fluttering elsewhere. Piaras struggled in vain against
the shackles that bound his wrists over his head.

Nukpana
struck, one-handedly catching the pixie in midair, and crushing her the same
way. He wiped the remains on the altar with no more regard than a swatted fly.
The Saghred pulsed once with a nearly imperceptible glow. If I had blinked, I’d
have missed it. Someone was awake—and hungry.

Sarad
Nukpana’s shields shimmered as he enhanced their power even more. He was being
careful. Nothing was getting through those shields unless he allowed it. I was
familiar with what he was using—a circle to protect himself against the
awakening Saghred, as well as spells, people, and weapons.

A
small silver amulet wasn’t a weapon—but I knew a way to turn it into one.

The
goblin rested one hand lightly on the Saghred, and gestured me to him with the
other, still bloody one.

“Release
her,” he told my guards.

“Sir,
are you—?”

“I
said release her.”

“Your
will, my primaru.”

He
gestured me to him again. “If you and the beacon would join me.”

From
what Mychael had told me, I should be close enough to the Saghred to remove the
beacon without my usual brush with death. I pulled the diamond chain with the
beacon over my head. I could still breathe and stand at the same time. Good.
Mychael had been right.

I
hoped my father was right, too.

Power
makes you blind to your own greed—and its consequences. I didn’t know if it
would work. I didn’t know if the backlash from Sarad Nukpana’s shields would
kill me. But with the goblin’s breath close enough to fog the Saghred’s
surface, and Piaras about to be murdered for the sake of a sick experiment, it
didn’t matter.

I
tossed the beacon to the goblin. “Catch.”

The
beacon passed through Sarad Nukpana’s shields and into his waiting and bloody
hand—shields that ceased to exist when he reached out to grab the beacon. The
goblin’s obsidian eyes widened in realization at what he had just done.

The
Saghred, Sarad Nukpana, and blood to bind them—and no shields between them.

I
didn’t know if any of the blood on his hand was his, or if it was all from the
dead fire pixie. The Saghred didn’t care. A sacrifice was a sacrifice. And it
was hungry.

A
little sacrificial blood and a broken magical circle. The simplest magic was
the best kind.

And
greed will make you stupid. Without exception.

Tendrils
of white light wrapped around the goblin’s wrist like steel vines, anchoring
him where he stood, engulfing his hand that still gripped the beacon, shooting
up his arm to the shoulder, the light coiling and constricting, racing hungrily
to consume his body. A high-pitched, strangled shriek came from inside the
column of white flame that was Sarad Nukpana.

Then
he was gone.

The
Saghred’s glow diminished to a single pinpoint of light. It winked out, leaving
the stone cold and dark on the altar.

After
the Saghred consumed Sarad Nukpana, our guards remem
bered places they desperately needed to be. Apparently
their loyalty ceased to exist when their leader did. The fire pixies likewise
made themselves scarce. Within seconds we were alone in the clearing.

As
far as distractions went, it was one of my better efforts. And as far as
near-death experiences went, I was surprisingly calm. Piaras was alive. I was
outside the Saghred. Sarad Nukpana was inside the Saghred. No one was here to
keep us from leaving. It wasn’t everything I wanted out of this evening, but
I’d take it.

I cut
the gag away from Piaras’s mouth.

“Are
you all right?” I asked.

He
took a shuddering breath and nodded. I couldn’t have agreed more; air was in
short supply for me, too. Stupid, tight bodice.

I
pulled one of the hat pins out of my bodice and went to work on Piaras’s wrist
shackles. Fortunately there was only one lock. I didn’t want to take my eyes
off the Saghred sharing the altar with Piaras, but it wasn’t like I had a
choice. I heard a click and glanced up. A’Zahra Nuru had a dainty dagger in one
tiny hand and had already picked the lock on one of Piaras’s ankle shackles. I
only had one lock to pick and I was still working on it. Not that I was
competitive or anything.

“Thank
you, Primari.”

She
smiled. “No, thank
you
, Mistress Benares.”

I
heard a groan from behind us. The prince must be waking up.

“Go,
I’ll finish,” I told her.

She
rushed over to the prince. If my luck held, he’d be able to walk, too. I had
something else to carry. It was lighter, but a whole lot more dangerous.

The
moment I unlocked his wrist shackles, Piaras sat up and pulled a stiletto out
of his sleeve.

“I
can get the last one,” he told me.

And
he did. Faster than I thought a lock could be picked. Piaras was very proficient,
professional even.

He
saw my surprise and flashed a quick grin. “Phaelan taught me.”

I was
going to have a long talk with Phaelan.

Piaras
removed the last shackle and scrambled off the altar. “What did you do?” He
kept his voice low so Primari Nuru couldn’t hear. “Did you have to use…?” He
threw a quick glance at the Saghred.

I
shook my head. “Just my brain.” I grinned. “And some fatherly advice. Nukpana
didn’t expect either one.”

The
Saghred sat still and dark on the altar. “What’s it doing?” he whispered.

I
grimaced. “Digesting?”

“We’re
leaving now, right?” Piaras sounded like he’d prefer to be already gone.

“Just
as soon as we can get that”—I pointed to the Saghred—“back in there.” I
indicated the box.

“Do
we have to take it with us?” Piaras sounded as thrilled with the idea as I was.

“Afraid
we have to.”

“And
you can’t just pick it up?”

“I’m
trying to avoid that.”

“Probably
a good idea.”

“May
I make a suggestion?” asked a cultured voice from behind us.

We
both jumped. I’d forgotten about Primari Nuru.

“Please
do,” I said.

“As
primitive as it may sound, a stick or small branch may be the solution. Turn
the casket on its side, then use the stick to push the stone inside.”

I
blinked. “A stick?”

“The
Saghred only responds to direct contact. You would not actually be touching the
stone. You should not be harmed.”

“Should
not?”

Her
half smile made her look almost girlish. “So the legends say.”

“No
disrespect intended, Primari, but if it’s a legend, it’s safe to assume those
who wrote it are dead. Since I can’t be sure it was from old age, and since I
have blood on my hand.” I paused, fighting off a case of the heebie-jeebies.
“I’ve been in the Saghred once tonight. It spit me out that time, and I’m not
about to try my luck again.”

The
goblin paled, no mean trick with her skin tone. “You were inside?”

I
nodded. “And it’s not a trip I want to repeat, especially now that Sarad
Nukpana’s been added to the welcoming committee.”

Someone
was coming toward us. Fast. And they had a lot of company close behind them. My
first instinct was to run. But with the Saghred still on the altar, and not a
stick in sight, running wasn’t a viable option. Against my better judgment, I
stayed.

It
was Mychael and Garadin. There wasn’t a mark on either one of them, which was
probably more than could be said for the Khrynsani ordered to take them to the
compound. Several Guardians were close behind. Vegard was one of them. He
looked a little on the pale side, but he was upright. He looked around the
clearing and grinned.

“Ma’am,
you were supposed to leave something for us.”

“Sorry
about that. They left early.” I nodded toward the Saghred. “I got the feeling
they didn’t like the company.”

The
big Guardian looked where I was looking. He went a shade pasty. “I can
understand that.”

Mychael
looked like he wanted to do something along the lines of a rib-crushing hug. I
was experiencing a similar urge toward him. He knew it. I knew that he knew.
With the Saghred on the altar and more Guardians arriving in the clearing, I
decided that we could always indulge ourselves later. First, I had a
soul-eating stone of power to poke with a stick.

Mychael
had a bare blade in his hands. I couldn’t help but notice that it was
Khrynsani. I’d imagine its previous owner no longer needed it. The Guardian
looked around the clearing, not trusting what he didn’t see. “Where’s Nukpana?”

Using
the smallest gesture possible, Piaras pointed at the Saghred.

Mychael
raised an inquisitive brow.

“It
wasn’t pretty,” I told him.

“No
doubt.”

“I’ll
fill you in on the details later.”

“I
wish you would.” He locked eyes with me. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”