Wings of Omen - Thieves World 06 (14 page)

The secret hours between midnight and dawn drew on. The Black Unicorn, having finished with the tavern, shouldered out into the street, blotting the night with a deeper darkness, and began to forage through the Maze, emptying the streets more effectively than Imperial order or Beysib curfew had ever done. On Cappen Varra's dusty floor Lalo dozed fitfully, struggling through dreams of fire and darkness lit by a distant shimmer of crystal wings. In the luxury of his estate on the east side, Lastel, furious and smarting with pain from a gash across his belly, took a long snort of krrf and waited for Roxane. One death or a dozen in the Vulgar Unicorn did not trouble him unduly, but his alliance with the witch ought to protect him from any other sorcery, and with that Thing that had come off the wall of the Unicorn loose in the city, every mage in Sanctuary would be after his hide. Had the little dauber really done it? Who was using him? Lastel struck at the slave who was trying to bandage him and sniffed at the krrf again. Roxane would know what to do.... The sorceress Ischade lifted herself from silken pillows and the enraptured face of the man beneath her, midnight eyes searching graying shadows. She could feel power eddying in the damp air; the wards she had set between herself and the Nisibisi witch quivered like taut wires in a sudden breeze. Was Roxane moving against her? The disturbance came from the direction of the Vulgar Unicorn, but there seemed no purpose in its meanderings. A word to the black bird perched in the comer sent it heaving into the musky air in a flurry of nightdark wings.

"Go," she whispered, "bring back word to me...." Enas Yorl saw the fragile structure of the spell he was working begin to ripple as the dimensional distortion reached it, and extinguished it with a swift Word. What had happened? The power he sensed was at once alien and shockingly familiar. Automatically he summoned his familiars and sent them scurrying through the twisted streets. Then he began to robe himself, but even as his hand closed on the rich velvet he saw it changing. Swearing in frustrated agony, the sorcerer subsided in a transformation that took from him even the semblance of humanity. By the time Wedemir banged on his brazen door, there was only the blind servant Darous to answer it with the enigmatic assurance that the sorcerer was not at home....

Lythande, lost in timeless contemplation in the Place That Is Not, felt the indefinable tremor and sent her trained awareness winging back to the austere chamber in the Aphrodisia House where she had left her physical form. Yes, there was a new power in Sanctuary, but it was no threat to her, thank the gods. She had already rested here too long, but even as she contemplated her next journey, the Adept of the Blue Star had to suppress a professional curiosity regarding who had created the thing, and why....

And the Black Unicorn, having killed two mercenaries and a beggar at the edge of the Maze, as the sun rose began a destructive foray through the busy streets of the Processional. Terror depopulated them as rapidly as they had filled, and the Unicorn turned, its darkness staining the bright day, and began to slash its way up Slippery Street toward the Bazaar.

"So, you came back...."

Lalo slumped against the doorframe, his cape slipping from strengthless fingers to the floor. "The Unicorn-" he whispered, "they said it was coming here...." Blinking, he looked around him, seeing the kitchen just as he had left it one endless day ago. There were the flaking whitewashed walls, the sloping, well scrubbed floor, and the bright faces of his children; even Vanda's friend Valira was here with her child, staring at him from their seats about the room.... And Gilla, standing in the midst of them like the statue of Shipri All-Mother in the Temple of Ils. Shivering, he forced himself to meet her eyes. The apologies

he had rehearsed through all the stumbling rush of his run here trembled on his lips, but he could not find the words.

"Well," said Gilla finally, "you don't seem to have enjoyed your debauchery!" A croak of laughter forced its way from Lalo's chest. "Debauchery! I only wish it had been!" A sudden horror shook him as he looked around the peaceful room. The Unicorn was his-what if it tracked him here? He choked, put his hand on the doorlatch, gathering his strength to go.

"Papa!" cried Wedemir, and at the same moment Gilla's face changed at last.

"There's a monster loose, you fool-you can't go out there!" Lalo stared at her, hysterical laughter building beyond his ability to control.

"I... know...." He sobbed for breath. "I created it...."

"Oh, you dear wretched man!" she exclaimed. With a swift step she was beside him, and he looked up fearfully. But already her big arms were enfolding him. He glimpsed Wedemir's astonished face beyond her as his head found the haven of her breast.

And then, for a moment, everything was all right again. He was safe at that still point of rest where he and Gilla were one. He sighed explosively. Tension, fear, unchan-neled power flowed from him through her to its grounding in the earth below. Then from the distance came a scream of agony, and Lalo stiffened, remembering the Unicorn.

"I'll go outside-" said Wedemir. "I'm a good runner, and maybe I can lead it off if it comes this way."

"No!" cried Lalo and Gilla as one. Lalo looked at his son, his face shining in the morning light like a young god's, and all his resentment of the night before transformed to agony. In the boy's proud strength there was such awful vulnerability.

He turned to Gilla. "When you looked at that portrait of me, did you see a madman? I have embodied half the evil in Sanctuary and set it free! I tried to get help from Enas Yorl, but he's not there-Gilla, I don't know what to do!"

"Enas Yorl's not the only wizard in Sanctuary, and I never liked him anyway," said Gilla stoutly. But Lalo could feel her fear, and that, more than anything else that had happened, frightened him.

A soft voice stirred the silence. "What about Lythande?" The reknowned Madam of the Aphrodisia House was no more imbued with civic responsibility than anyone else in Sanctuary, but this Thing that was rampaging through their streets might succeed where curfews and death squads had failed-it might even affect trade. And she knew Valira ro be an honest girl-had even offered her a place in the House, though the girl insisted on staying in lodgings with her child. It was enough to gain Valira's friends a hearing, once the little prostitute had poured out her garbled tale. And once Myrtis had heard, to make her their advocate to Lythande.

But Lalo recognized exasperation in the cool voice behind the crimson curtains at the end of the waiting room, and as the Adept pushed through them he saw resistance in every line of the dark robe that concealed Lythande's tall frame. There was silver in the long hair; lamplight limned lean cheeks and a high, narrow brow where the identifying blue star glowed. Lalo looked away, ashamed to meet the wizard's gaze.

How the Adept must despise him, as he would have sneered at a beggar who stole his paints and tried to paint the Prince. But a beggar would only have made himself ridiculous. Lalo's ignorant misuse of power might doom them all. There was an uneasy silence as the Adept settled into the carven chair. Lalo's nostrils twitched as Lythande lit a pipe and aromatic smoke began to eddy about the room. He twitched nervously, and Gilla, solid as stone on the couch beside him, patted his hand.

"Well?" The Adept's smooth tenor broke the silence. "Myrtis said you had need of me-"

Gilla cleared her throat. "That demon in the shape of a unicorn is my man's doing. We need your help to get rid of it again."

"You're telling me this man is a magician?" Lalo flinched at the scorn he heard.

"Myrtis!" Lythande called, "why did you ask me to waste my time with a hysteric and a fool?"

Gilla bristled. "No magician, master, but a man gifted with one power by Enas Yorl and with another by the gods themselves!"

Lalo forced his gaze upward, saw the blue star on Lythande's brow begin to shine as Gilla spoke the other magician's name, casting an eerie illumination on the face below it, a face that was worn by wizardry, with ageless eyes. His vision blurred. For a moment Lalo saw beneath those austere features a face that was softer, though no less resolute. He blinked, shook his head, and looked again, saw the face of the Adept veiling the other, then both melding together until there was only one face before him, a woman's face whose truth he read as once he had read that of Enas Yorl--An implacable and enduring beauty like the blade of a sword, honed and tempered through more years and lands than Lalo could imagine, and the equally endless pain of fulfillment denied and forever voiceless love. The rumor of the Bazaar had only hinted at Lythande's power and had not even suggested the price the Adept paid for it-that she paid-for Lalo knew Lythande's secret now.

"But you-" Wonder startled words from his lips and the star on Lythande's forehead blazed suddenly. Lalo's sensitized nerves felt the throb of power, and abruptly he recognized his danger. He squeezed shut his eyes. Powers he might have, but chance memory told him that only another wizard could survive open revelation of the secret of a wearer of the Blue Star.

"I see," came the Adept's voice, soft, terrible.

"Master, please!" cried Lalo desperately, trying to let her know, without saying so, that he understood. "I know the danger of secrets-I have told you mine and I am in your power. But if there are any in this city that you love, please show me how to undo the evil I have done!"

There was a long sigh. The sense of danger began to ease. Gilla moved uncomfortably, and Lalo realized that she had been holding her breath too.

"Very well-" There was a certain bitter humor in Ly-thande's measured tone. "One condition. Promise that you will never paint me!"

Dizzy with relief, Lalo opened his eyes, careful not to meet the Adept's gaze.

"But I warn you, help is all that I can give," Lythande went on. "If the creature is your creation, then you must control it."

"But it will kill him!" Gilla cried.

"Perhaps," said the Adept, "but when one plays with power one must be ready to pay."

"What-" Lalo swallowed. "What do I have to do?"

"First we have to get its attention...."

Lalo sat on the edge of one of the Vulgar Unicorn's rickety benches, nervously fingering the edges of the roll of canvas in his arms. Wedemir-where are you now? His heart sent out the anguished cry as he visualized his son slipping through dark streets, searching for the Unicorn. The end of Lythande's planning had been this knowledge that the price must be paid by all of them-by Wedemir, walking into danger, and by the rest of them, waiting for him to lead it to them here.

He took a ragged breath, then another, striving for calm. Lythande had told him he must prepare himself, but his stripped nerves kept him nervously aware of the blue pulse of the Adept's presence, as he was aware of Cappen Varra, who sat with hand clasped around his amulet, and of Gilla-of her more than any, projecting a mixing of strength and fear and love.

Perhaps she simply disliked being in the Vulgar Unicorn. It was the measure of her trust of Lythande that she had accepted the Adept's pronouncement that the Unicorn must leave this dimension by the same Gate through which it had come. But was this really the Vulgar Unicorn, or only some drunken nightmare? It was so very still. After a brief, explosive interchange between One-Thumb and Lythande, the Adept had expelled the few customers who had braved the birthplace of the Black Unicorn, and cleared away the tables from the booth and the center of the room. Lalo stared at the irregular white space on the wall where his drawing had been, shivered and looked away, found his eyes focusing on the new dark stains that marred the floor, and shut them.

Breathe! he told himself. For Wedemir's sake-you have to find the strength somewhere!

"I should never have allowed it-" Gilla's whisper voiced Lalo's fears. "My poor son! How could you let him sacrifice himself? You'd let your baby bum and send your firstborn to be eaten by a demon from Hell-a fine sort of father you are!" Lalo could feel her gathering steam for another diatribe and found himself almost welcoming the distraction, but Lythande's voice knifed through the pause as Gilla gathered breath to go on.

"Woman, be still! There is more than one life at stake here, and the time for discussion is long gone. Lend some of your anger to your man-he'll need it soon!" The Adept's snapped comment was followed by a half-heard muttering something about "working with amateurs" that made Gilla's ears bum. Lalo sighed and tried to formulate a prayer to Ils of the Thousand Eyes, but all

that would come to him was a vision of Wedemir's bright gaze. The door opened.

Lalo jerked around, peering at the shadow that had precipitated itself from the darker oblong of the open door. Wedemir? But it was too soon, and there had been no sound. The figure stepped forward; Lalo recognized the dark cloak and narrow, sullen face of Shadowspawn.

"I got a message-" Hanse surveyed the odd group with disbelief. "I'm supposed to help you?"

His face was eloquent with resentment, and Lalo, realizing abruptly from whom that message must have come, felt a slim stirring of hope. He got to his feet.

"Yes, you can help us," Lythande said quietly beside him. "You saw something get loose here last night. Help us send it home again."

"No." Hanse shook his head. "Oh, no. Once was a time too many to see that thing."

"Shalpa's Son..." Lalo said hoarsely, and saw Shadowspawn flinch.

"Not even for-" he began, then whirled, hands going for his knives. From outside came the sound of feet running, and a deep roaring as if all the sewers in Sanctuary had overflowed.

"Quick, for your life-" snapped the Adept, pointing across the room. "Take your place in the circle, and don't stir!"