Lisa Shearin - Raine Benares 01 (47 page)

His
eyes reflected concern, relief, and rage all at the same time, and I knew in no
uncertain terms that if the Saghred and I hadn’t taken out Sarad Nukpana,
Mychael would have. I suddenly felt warmed to my toes.

“No,
I’m good.” I looked at the Saghred. “I’d be better if that was back in its box.
Though at least I think it’s finished what it’s doing now.”

“Where’s
the beacon?” he asked.

“Nukpana
had it in his hand.”

“It’s
inside, then.”

I
nodded.

“Then
why’s it still sitting out in the open?” Garadin asked, moving closer to the
Saghred than I thought safe.

“Do
you want to touch it?”

Garadin
stopped. “Not really.”

Mychael
sheathed his sword. I didn’t think that was a good idea either.

“Have
you considered using a stick?” the Guardian asked.

Apparently
he and the primari had heard the same legend.

“It’s
been suggested,” I said.

“Then
let’s do it. We need to get out of here.”

Mychael
went and knelt next to Chigaru and A’Zahra Nuru. He touched the prince’s temple
and raised one of his eyelids to check the damage.

“He
is not badly injured,” the primari told Mychael. “He only needs time.”

“Time’s
in short supply just now, my lady.”

I’d
really hate to survive this long only to have the Saghred slurp me up for
dessert, but considering where we were—and who and what was out there—I had to
agree with his suggestion to vacate the premises. But that didn’t mean I had to
like what I had to do before we left.

“I’ll
find a stick,” Piaras volunteered.

I
sighed. “And I’ll poke the rock.”

He
found one. Quicker than I wanted him to. Now it was my turn. Mychael offered to
do it himself, but I couldn’t let him. This one was mine. I didn’t want it to
be, but that wasn’t how things had turned out.

“There
wouldn’t happen to be any elaborate containment spells or extra-strength
incantations I could use, would there?” I asked anyone and everyone who might
know.

Mychael
answered. “There are, but none that have been particularly effective. Personal
shields have been the most often used.” He turned to A’Zahra Nuru. “My lady, do
you know of any?”

The
primari was supporting a now half-conscious goblin prince. “I am sorry; I do
not.”

Great.
I wondered if the poor sots the Saghred had inhaled for breakfast, lunch, and
dinner over the ages had used shields, or just thrown caution to the wind. I
was willing to bet most had been cautious, like Sarad Nukpana—right before they
had been consumed.

No
spells. No incantations. Just me and mine, poking at a stone with cataclysmic
power with a stick. If I was the Saghred, I would have been insulted. Hopefully
it wouldn’t take any resentment out on me.

I
turned the casket on its side; and wielding the long, forked stick like a
rapier, made contact with the Saghred and pushed it neatly into the box. Point
control was good for something. I closed the lid using the same maneuver. Power
prickled up my arm, but other than that, the rock didn’t seem to mind the
contact. I shuddered, blew out the air I’d been holding, and picked up the box.
The beacon was in the Saghred with Sarad Nukpana. In theory since I no longer
had the beacon, I should no longer feel a connection with the Saghred.

No
such luck.

“I
really hoped I’d be able to get rid of this.”

Mychael
was looking at me funny. Not the good kind of funny. I looked down at myself. I
wasn’t glowing or anything.

“What?”
I asked.

“The
bond is still there.”

He
didn’t ask it as a question. I wish he had. He knew it as well as I did. Must
have been kind of obvious somehow. The power the Saghred had offered me to
destroy Sarad Nukpana was still there, inside me, waiting just below the
surface. Waiting for what, I wasn’t really sure. Oh boy.

Mychael’s
lips set in a grim line. “Is it trying to influence you?”

“No.
At least not right now. It feels more like a big dog with very big teeth on a
very short leash.” I grimaced. “A well-fed dog at the moment. Any idea how
often it gets hungry?”

“Not
a clue.”

“Not
what I wanted to hear.”

His
expression was unreadable. “We’ll be taking it back to Mid.”

That
was good news, but I didn’t need the Saghred’s help to know his thoughts. That
wasn’t all Mychael wanted to take back to Mid with him.

“I
would like it very much if you would come with me,” he said.

I
assumed since he asked nicely there wasn’t a trip over his shoulder in my
immediate future. Good to know.

“Because
the Saghred thinks I’m its new psychic roommate?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Think
someone on Mid could help me serve the eviction notice?”

“Probably.”

I
wanted to be rid of the Saghred, so that was a good reason to go to Mid, but it
wasn’t quite good enough. Not anymore. I walked over to where Mychael was and
looked up at him, a challenge in my eyes and a tiny smile on my lips. “Is there
another reason you want me to come home with you?” I asked softly.

A
corner of his mouth quirked upward. “One.”

“Does
that reason have anything whatsoever to do with the Soul Thief?”

“Nothing,”
he murmured.

My
smile broadened. “Can you answer me with more than one word?”

His
smile melted into that boyish grin. “Maybe later.”

Garadin
cleared his throat. “Riston has boats waiting for us.”

Piaras
started. “What about my grandmother?”

“Not
to worry, my boy,” Garadin said. “She’s safe with Tam Nathrach.” He glanced at
me. “Your primaru does good work.” He only sounded slightly begrudging.

“He
knew where Nukpana was keeping your grandmother,” Mychael explained to Piaras.
“We worked it out ahead of time that he would take a few Guardians, rescue her,
and destroy Nukpana’s workroom so he couldn’t open any more Gates from Mermeia.
Nukpana’s overworked his shamans for the past few days, so Tam didn’t encounter
much resistance.”

The
Ruins were quiet as we left. I don’t mean quiet as in serene. I mean silent in
an unnatural and bad way. The only sounds we heard were the sounds we made, and
I wasn’t the only one who didn’t like it. Blades were out. Crossbows were
ready. I knew only too well you couldn’t rely on footsteps to announce some of
The Ruins’ nasties. Too many of them didn’t have feet.

There
was one thing everything living in The Ruins had in common—a need for and an
addiction to all things magic. And it didn’t get more magical than the stone I
carried clenched in my white-knuckled hands. If I could feel it through the
casket, I knew that creatures, whose sole purpose in existing was the hunt for,
capture of, and consumption of magic, were hot on our trail.

“Can
we move faster?” I whispered to Mychael. The sound of my own voice was absurdly
loud.

“What
is it?”

“Company’s
coming.”

The
Guardian turned to where Chigaru was now walking unassisted. “Your Highness?”

“Yes?”

“Are
you able to run, or do you require assistance?”

The
goblin prince stiffened at the implication of help from anyone. “I can manage
on my own.”

“Glad
to hear it.” Mychael addressed everyone else. “Stay together, stay alert, but
let’s pick up the pace.”

We
did. And so did the things following us.

It
was a race to the canal surrounding the island. And after what I’d been through
over the past three days, it was a race I was not going to lose. Our exit point
would still put us in the Goblin District, but if the Khrynsani guards’
reaction was any indicator, there wouldn’t be a welcoming committee. Or if
there was, flashing the Saghred in their general direction should clear us a
wide path. Unless someone had stepped in to fill Sarad Nukpana’s boots in the
past few minutes, the former grand shaman seemed to be the only one of his
order chomping at the bit to get his hands on the Saghred. Nukpana’s underlings
were more enamored with the idea of having the Saghred than with actually
having it in their collective face.

At
least that’s what I was counting on.

It
had occurred to me that I was carrying the most dangerous thing in The Ruins,
which by association made me the most dangerous thing in The Ruins. It had
occurred to me, but I was doing my best not to think about it. It wasn’t a
distinction I wanted.

We
actually got out of The Ruins without incident. I was nothing short of stunned.
I kept expecting battle-armored Khrynsani or Mal’Salin guards to jump us at
every turn, but it never happened. A pleasant surprise. I wondered if Sathrik
Mal’Salin had any notion of what I had just done to his right-hand shaman.
Would he care? I think he would. I was just lucky that way.

I
made my decision before we even reached our borrowed gondolas.

Sleep
was easy. Getting there was hard. Try going to sleep with
eleven pirates shouting overhead—and Sarad Nukpana
whispering your name.

I was
in Phaelan’s bunk on the
Fortune
attempting to catch a few hours of
sleep. Phaelan’s crew was preparing to get underway. It wouldn’t take
much—either work or time. My cousin arrived in a port quickly, and was always
prepared to leave the same way. An hour ago, a little wind manipulation by a
weather wizard friend of Garadin’s had nudged the
Fortune
out of her
harbor moorings to just beyond the barrier islands where a pair of Guardian
ships waited. The wizard had collapsed from near exhaustion from the effort. I
could hear him snoring it off in the next cabin. Something else to keep me
awake.

Mychael
and I had talked before I’d turned in. Some of that talk I had liked; some of
it I didn’t. But we both agreed on one thing—my staying in Mermeia was out of
the question.

While
I didn’t want to go there, the Isle of Mid was the only place where I could
possibly get rid of my new soulmate. It was also an island full of
power-grubbing mages, and I had a bond with a legendary stone of power no one
had been able to wield and live—until me, until now. I’d be the most popular
girl in town.

In an
attempt at consolation, Phaelan told me that leaving Mermeia would make me part
of a long-standing Benares family tradition: leave town until things cool down.

King
Sathrik Mal’Salin knew about me. So did Prince Chigaru, who along with Primari
Nuru had parted ways with us once we were out of The Ruins. One minute their
gondola was there, then it wasn’t. Mychael hadn’t seemed concerned by it. I
couldn’t say the same. If they weren’t making their own getaway plans, they
were in deep hiding. As to Sarad Nukpana no longer being in control of the
Khrynsani, I knew that wouldn’t last for long. Nukpana might not be there to
lead them, but one of his minions would claw his way to the top. And I was sure
his replacement would be just as psychotic—and just as obsessive about me. It
was the kind of attention a girl could do without.

Then
there was the attention I was going to miss.

Tam
had delivered Tarsilia safely to the
Fortune
. While Tarsilia and Piaras
had an emotional reunion, Tam and I tried to have a nonemotional parting. I
said we tried; we didn’t succeed. I knew I had to leave; Tam knew I had to
leave, but knowing it didn’t make it any easier. Tam had a business to run. I had
a stone of power to rid myself of.

In
the end, words just weren’t getting the job done for Tam, so he went for action
instead. I’ve been on the receiving end of some heated kisses in my time, but
none of the top contenders had ever involved me being slammed against a
mainmast. I have to admit I liked it. A lot. The hoots and whistles of
Phaelan’s crew did nothing to discourage Tam’s ardor. Quite the opposite. I
think he wanted to make sure I wouldn’t forget him. After that kiss, there was
no chance of that. I thought there was a much better chance of Tam turning up
on the Isle of Mid. Let’s just say I wouldn’t be surprised.

Garadin,
Tarsilia, and Piaras were sailing to Mid with me. So was my cat, Boris. Once
Garadin had drafted his weather wizard friend to help get us to Mid, he ran by
my rooms to get Boris. Garadin was in a hurry. Boris did nothing in a hurry
except eat. Garadin had to drag Boris out from under my bed. Boris had to claw
the crap out of Garadin’s arms. I’d only seen my cat once after we’d set sail,
chasing a fat rat. Boris was on his ideal vacation. I couldn’t say the same for
myself.

Mychael
had told me I was safe, but safe was relative. An armada wasn’t enough to make
me feel safe right now. Our trio of ships bristled with cannons and shielding
spells. But what I feared most I had brought onboard myself. Not on the
Fortune
,
but on one of the Conclave’s ships. The Saghred was in Mychael’s cabin, in its
casket, under the strongest containment spells he and his Guardians could bind
it with. Though it didn’t matter where the Saghred was, because I heard it the
whole time, whispering without words, a constant stream running under my
thoughts. I tried thinking other thoughts to drown out the whispers, but all
that did was make it harder to go to sleep. I could see this was going to be a
problem.