White Star (24 page)

Orrin turned his attention to his own chains, pulling, trying to find a weak link. He pushed back the despair and grief, and concentrated on finding a way to get free. It was all he could do, other than wait to die.

No. There was one thing more. Something he hadn’t done since . . .

Orrin gritted his teeth.
Lady of Laughter
— he aimed a thought deep within as he tested his chains—
laugh all you want, but here I am begging. She claims you saved me for your own reasons.
He glanced at Evelyn, sitting there dirty, dressed in black, her hair filled with soot.
I’ll be damned if I know what they are, but I’ll take whatever chance I get to redeem myself. But save them, Lady. I beg you. Please.

He wasn’t sure if he said the last out loud, but the word seemed to echo in his heart. There were no flashes of light, no signs from above, but he really didn’t expect any.

Still, it couldn’t hurt.

Archer sucked in a breath and froze, staring at the floor, as if turned to stone. Orrin glanced down.

Thomas’s eyes were open, staring up at him.

«
^
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She
called the fire, and the fire answered.

She could feel the power within her, being pulled out of her by the manacles around her wrists. Every lesson she’d had as a child, every memory of her father working his spells— Evelyn used all of it, pulling from strength she didn’t know she had.

It hurt, making her sick and dizzy, but still she focused, whispering the words, gathering her strength. She poured it all in, her rage and despair and fear, and used every bit of determination she possessed.

Lady of Laughter, hear my plea. Make me thy instrument of vengeance, Lady, for all this woman has done and will do. Give me help, Lady. Give me strength, Lady. Give me power, Lady. This I pray. . .

The magic rose within her, and she channeled it through her fingers, guiding the power into the metal of their manacles.

Mage shifted next to her, trying to ease his pain. He was hurt, they all were. She needed more, needed. . .

She opened her eyes and looked at Orrin. He stood bare-chested, barefoot, helpless before his enemies, blood dripping down his face. He pulled at his chains, trying so hard . . .

She loved him, loved him more than she’d ever thought possible. Only the Gods knew if he’d ever return her love, ever let her express it, but she despaired of ever having the chance to show him how she felt. Never would she feel his skin against hers, never lie with him on a soft bed, wrapped in his strong arms, feel him move within her body, know the joy of pleasure at his touch.

Her love fed the flames now.

Lady, let him have this chance, let him work free of his guilt, let it be here and now, let me. . . Lady of Laughter, please—

Her fingers suddenly sank into the metal of the manacles. They crumbled away, leaving Evelyn and Mage both weak, gasping, and free.

Orrin
watched as Thomas blinked and tried to focus on him.

“Thomas,” Archer whispered, “Reader’s keys. They’re—”

Thomas’s head moved slightly. Then his hand appeared from under his brother’s body and slid along the floor.

“Just a little more,” Archer said.

Orrin held his breath. Thomas’s glassy stare revealed he wasn’t long for this world. But his hand closed tightly around the end of the belt.

Sidian had seen, and he rattled his chains to cover any noise. He was still trying to work the grease under his manacles, trying to pull his wrist through. He need not have bothered with the distraction. Elanore was still chanting, absorbed in Reader’s weak struggles.

Thomas jerked the belt. The end with the keys hit the wall by Archer’s feet.

None of the odium reacted.

“Good lad,” Orrin whispered.

Thomas’s lip curled ever so slightly. He sighed, and closed his eyes.

Archer grabbed the ring with his toes, and lifted it to his hand in one swift move. Carefully, he tried the first key.

Orrin held his breath. There were so many keys, how could—

All the odium started to turn toward Evelyn.

Orrin thrashed in his chains as the monsters moved in her direction. Archer cursed as he tried another key, and another. Sidian strained, and cried out as one hand slid free of its manacle.

Mage scrambled up, shouting something. His hands seemed to glow with a sickly light. He lunged forward, dodged an odium’s clawlike hands, and touched its chest. Without so much as a whisper, the monster vanished in a puff of dust.

“It worked!” Mage looked at his hands in astonishment. “I drained it!”

“Mage,” Orrin cried out a warning. Evelyn jumped up, and yanked Mage back, out of the reach of another of the monsters.

Mage stood in front of her, and started touching each creature as it got closer. The sickly light around his hands seemed to get brighter as odium were destroyed. Mage had a grin on his face, but it disappeared as Elanore screamed in rage.

Elanore’s
scream was warning enough. Evelyn pulled Mage back to the floor, forcing his head down. She raised her hand, and swept a curtain of fire over both of them, holding it at a slight angle.

Flames washed over them as Elanore cast her fire at Mage, without regard for the odium that stood between them. The monsters collapsed, blackened and crisped.

Evelyn kept her face to the stone, drawing cool air into her lungs. She watched as Elanore prepared to attack again, and swept the fire over them once more as a shield to deflect the spell. “I can’t keep this up for long,” Evelyn said.

Mage shivered next to her. “What’s she doing?” Elanore had stopped her casting. She stood there, her fists clenched at her sides, and faced the door, as if concentrating on—

“The door,” Mage gasped. “She’s calling more.”

“I’ll deal with her,” Evelyn said. “You deal with the odium. Can you—”

A hoarse shout caught everyone’s attention.

Orrin was free.

“
Got
it,” Archer said, as his manacles swung open.

Orrin’s breath caught as the flames rolled over Evelyn and Mage. He forced himself to hold still as Archer worked to free him. He saw Elanore focus on the door, and knew what it meant. “More odium coming.”

“Hells,” Archer muttered as he finished, and turned to Sidian.

Orrin didn’t wait to hear the rest. With one step he swept his sword from the pile, and leaped the bodies of his friends. He strode toward the bitch, the stone floor cold under his feet. With each stride he gained speed, charging across the room toward Elanore.

Sidian and Archer would see to the odium.

He’d see the bitch dead.

Elanore broke off her chanting and stepped away from the table. She faced him head-on; that perfect face smiled and laughed as he moved. She spread her arms wide, as if welcoming him as a lover.

Orrin screamed a battle cry, and with a few more steps he plunged his blade into her chest, right through her heart. He ripped the blade free as he moved past, and spun, waiting to see her lifeless body collapse to the floor.

Elanore had turned as well. She stood, arms still wide, and laughed.

Orrin paused, his sword at the ready. But there was no wound in Elanore’s chest, no blood. To his horror, she stepped closer, reaching out as if to stroke his cheek.

He stepped back, avoiding her hand. “How?”

“Orrin,” Evelyn called out. She was struggling to stand, with Mage’s help. “She’s an odium.”

Elanore laughed again, stepping back and letting her skirts swirl as she moved to put the table between herself and Orrin. She trailed her fingernails over Reader’s body. The man shuddered at her touch.

“How is that possible?” Orrin had his sword up, circling to keep the table between them.

“I felt myself dying, dearest Orrin,” Elanore said. “Felt my life ebbing away as that bitch of a Chosen watched.” Elanore lifted her hand to her throat, caressing it. “I couldn’t let that happen. I used the magic, the spells, to bind myself to my body.” She drew her hand down, stroking her breasts. “To make sure that I lived.”

Sidian and Archer were at the great doors of the throne room, struggling to hold back a mass of odium. Orrin caught a glimpse of Mage limping up behind them, reaching over their shoulders, touching as many as he could. Mage was destroying them, but they were being overwhelmed.

“You didn’t live,” Evelyn said, leaning against the wall with one hand. “She’s an abomination, Orrin.”

“Oh, such a precious little priestess.” Elanore paused. “Destroying those chains cost you, didn’t it? The shields cost you even more. Poor thing.”

“Not so weak I can’t ask the Lady to show him what you are,” Evelyn spat. She raised her hand and gestured. “See only the Truth, Orrin Blackhart.”

Elanore gasped, and raised her hands, but she was too late. Orrin felt a tingle at the base of his skull, and he saw her as she truly was.

«
^
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Orrin
jerked back.

Elanore’s skin was gray; her face, half burned away. Dead eyes, unseeing and lifeless. That pale white throat was slashed so deeply that he could see bone. Her dress hung in tatters, her flesh stretched thin over bony fingers. The smell overcame him, the reek of rotting flesh.

His horror must have shown on his face, for Elanore howled.

“That’s why you locked away the mirrors and bowls,” Evelyn said, moving closer. “They’d show you the truth, wouldn’t they? Metal is not fooled by magic.”

Orrin held his breath, and eased over, trying to protect Evelyn.

Elanore howled again, and lifted her hands. “Die, die!” She threw long silver spikes of magic, aimed at his naked chest.

They were met by a wave of flames, and melted away.

Evelyn was beside him now, her hands before her, gesturing. He could hear her ragged breathing.

Elanore’s monstrous face distorted in another scream. Again she threw the spikes of magic, and again Evelyn deflected them.

Again, and again. Orrin stood, sword ready, but there was no chance to charge Elanore. He could almost see Evelyn weakening with each attack. He gripped his sword, waiting for a chance.

Elanore stood before them, her disguise gone, laughing insanely as she threw her spells. But it seemed to Orrin that the spikes were smaller now, weaker.

Evelyn caught his eye with a sideways glance, then took a step back. Orrin moved with her instinctively, uncertain what she was trying to do.

Evelyn eased back again, as if retreating, and Elanore pressed her attack. Slowly they fell back, and Elanore stepped from behind the table and advanced on them.

Another spike of power, but Evelyn’s flames were weakening. Orrin prepared to lunge forward. It was now or—

Elanore gestured, and another spike appeared, flying toward his heart.

Evelyn stepped in front of him. With a soft grunt, she took the blow. The spike slammed into her chest, and she collapsed to the floor.

Elanore shrieked her victory.

Orrin lunged forward, and swung his blade for her neck.

With a gesture, she flung him against the wall, his blade clattering to the floor. “It’s not so easy, Orrin.” She advanced on him, her face still a hideous nightmare.

He scrambled for his blade and got to his feet, moving toward the throne, luring her away from Evelyn’s body. Part of him howled with fear for Evelyn, but the other part lusted for nothing less than Elanore’s death.

“I’ll drain your friends as you watch, and have you as my prisoner,” Elanore gloated as she followed him. “Then I’ll take my odium, and we’ll—”

Orrin stood, sword in front of him, and looked over her shoulder. “I don’t think so, bitch.”

“Neither do I,” said Mage from behind Elanore.

Elanore jerked around, seeing the apprentice for the first time.

Mage reached out, chanting his spell, the sickly glow still around his hands. But Elanore grabbed for his wrists, and laughed.

Mage jerked back, his eyes wide. “No—”

“It can work both ways, apprentice,” Elanore rasped as she started her own chant, the same one she’d used on Reader. Mage struggled to break free, but she hung on tight.

Orrin reached out and grabbed her hair, yanking her head back. It twisted around in his hands, so that those eyes stared at him. The gash in her neck gaped wide.

Her chant was cut off in midword, a gurgle emerged from her throat.

Orrin stared down into her eyes.

Elanore released Mage, and reached for Orrin’s eyes with her claws.

Mage slammed his glowing hands down on her chest.

Elanore’s mouth moved, and she let out a high-pitched squeal. She writhed in their grasp, her flesh tearing from the bone. Mage’s face twisted in a grimace, but he forced his hands deeper into her chest.

Elanore screamed, and dissolved into dust, her voice still echoing through the room.

Orrin and Mage stood there, silent. Then Mage fell to his knees, and started retching. Sidian and Archer stood by the door, breathing hard. The odium were collapsing to the floor, nothing more than rotting corpses.

“Evelyn.” Orrin ran to her side, placing his sword on the floor as he pulled her into his arms.

Her eyes were closed, her thick lashes pale on her cheek. Her breaths were shallow and faint. There was a burn mark through her tunic, and the skin beneath was red and blistered.

“Evie,” Orrin whispered, but there was no answer. She was broken— his bright, perfect light— broken and dying in his arms.

He heard the clink of chains, and lifted his head. Mage was helping Reader off the table. Archer and Sidian were over by the brothers, checking Thomas.

“Evie,” Orrin whispered again, burying his face in her hair.

“I’ve no healing,” Mage said as he knelt beside them.

“She’s not long for it, that I know,” Orrin choked. “Without help—”

“I wish I could portal”— Mage’s voice broke— “but I—”

Orrin jerked his head up. “There’s one chance.”

He freed one hand, and reached inside Evelyn’s tunic. He pulled out the little drawstring bag, then the tiny cylinder. He smashed it on the floor.

The summon stick lay in the shards.