Dragon Venom (Obsidian Chronicles Book 3) (23 page)

He discovered, though, that if he regularly sat on a bench by the street overlooking the steps, people going about their business would notice him and grow accustomed to him, and he could then address them as they left the water and receive polite responses.

He also spoke to merchants and to other customers in the shops he patronized, sometimes continuing the conversations out into the streets.

Many of the inhabitants of Pon Ashti were happy to chat at length with the exotic stranger as they walked, or even to invite him into their homes to talk

Thus Arlian heard several descriptions of how the Blue Mage had captured the city by first subverting several of Pon Ashti's own guardsmen, placing spells upon them so that upon command they removed much of the city's magical protection—not just some of the iron bands upon the walls, but other, more hidden devices, the exact nature of which had never been made public. Then she and her creatures, her demons and apes and shadows, had swept in, overwhelming all resistance.

"But surely, some of your people fought back!" Arlian said, sitting at a small table in a sunlit yard. "And did they not have good steel blades?"

"Iron is proof against the creatures of the air, but it cannot harm the wizard herself," his interlocutor—who would not give any name at all—

told him. "Her magic cannot move or break iron, but neither does it repel her, nor can steel blades cut her. She had chosen her servants with the iron wards and the guards' steel in mind, and brought only those that steel could not stymie."

Further details and other conversations made it plain to Arlian that the Blue Mage had planned her assault carefully, and had known what to expect. Despite her reputation for whimsicality, she was clearly not stupid or overconfident; she had thought through her actions, rather than relying on surprise and sheer power.

It also became clear, from any number of sources, that the Blue Mage had effective methods of acquiring information, as well as incredible magical resources. That was why the arrival of her servants did not surprise him, and why he did not bother to resist them.

Alone at the time, he had been walking down a momentarily

deserted street with a sausage roll in one hand, planning to once again sit by the river and enjoy the view of the water steps while he ate, when the shadows around him began to move unnaturally, sliding away from the alleys and doorways and following him across the pavement. He slowed his pace, but did not stop immediately.

But then the gray ape-things appeared around the corner ahead, four of them, each the size of a man, and spaced themselves across the width of the street.

They were not true apes, but he could think of no better description for them; they stood crookedly on massive gray-furred legs, their long bony arms dangling clawed fingers a few inches from the street, their flat black eyes staring at him from flat gray faces.

He transferred the sausage roll to his left hand, in case he needed to draw his sword, and stopped walking. He waited. From the corner of his eye he could see the shadows gathering at either side; a glance at a nearby glass window showed him that more ape-things were blocking the street behind him. No other humans were in the hundred yards between the two lines enclosing him, so there was no question as to whether he was actually their intended target.

No one he had spoken to had specifically described these ape-

creatures, so he did not know whether steel would be effective against them. If they were, as seemed likely, the same apes that had been part of the force that had swept into the city a year ago and left the water steps awash in blood, then metal blades would not touch them.

"Did you want something of me?" he asked.

To his surprise, one of the apes replied, in a growling but clear voice.

"Our mistress wishes you to accompany us."

"Did she say why? I was about to eat my lunch . . . "

"Our mistress wishes you to accompany us now"

Arlian decided against further argument. "Lead the way," he said.

The apes did not appear to be armed, and he might have been able to cut his way out, but why should he? He had come here to learn from the magicians and creatures of the south, and the Blue Mage was among the most powerful of those; he had come to Pon Ashti to speak with her.

Here, then, was just the opportunity he needed.

Furthermore, there was no real reason for hostility between the two of them. Yes, she had conquered Pon Ashti, killed dozens or hundreds of people, and oppressed the survivors, but what was that to the Duke of Manfort or his loyal warlord? Pon Ashti had always defied the Duke, refused his demands for taxes and tariffs and tribute. If it had fallen to another, less tolerant master, what was that to Arlian?

In truth, it was a great deal—he did not care to see anyone slaughtering innocents, whether the killer was dragon, human, wizard, or something else entirely. He did not think much of overlords who set down arbitrary rules whose breach was punishable by death. It offended his sense of justice to see Pon Ashti as it was—but the Blue Mage presumably did not know that Arlian felt this way. Unless she could read his thoughts, how would she have any hint?

And he did very much want to question her.

Accordingly, he strode unhesitatingly along as the ape-things led the way to the Mage's palace, and kept his weapons in their sheaths. He marched through the streets, eating his sausage roll—after all, he could not be sure when he might receive his next meal. It was drier and spicier than was customary in Manfort, but not unpleasant; he had grown to like the local fare since his arrival.

The apes kept up a good pace, walking along in an odd loping gait that used both hands and feet; he would not have thought they could maintain their speed so easily. It was scarcely ten minutes later when they guided him through a fantastical crystal gate—one that he was quite sure was of magical origin, and which he suspected had only recendy replaced one of wrought iron—into the palace forecourt.

There, however, the ape-things abruptly stopped, forming a circle around him, forcing him to stop, as well, if he did not wish to collide with their furry backs. He hastily swallowed the final bite of sausage and brushed the last flakes of pastry from his beard, then stood straight and waited.

Something red and gray and black, with horns and golden eyes but with a shape Arlian could not focus on, emerged from the palace and loomed over him; the sunlight seemed to fade as it approached, the sky to darken and the hum of wind and water, the sounds of the city, to fade. Arlian was a tall man, and could easily see over the heads of the crouching apes, but this creature towered above him as if he were a child. It spoke—though Arlian was unsure of the exact words, or the sound of its voice. He simply knew that it had spoken, and the meaning it had conveyed.

He was to remove his iron weapons before proceeding further.

"Of course," he said with a bow. That was the protocol among the lords of Manfort, as well—one did not wear a sword into someone's home when making a friendly call, if only because it might scrape the furniture. He unbuckled his sword belt, then took his common knife from its sheath, and proffered them.

One of the ape-creatures turned and accepted the weapons, then carried them out of sight—Arlian could not see whither. Its movements were somewhat awkward, as it was forced to walk entirely on its hind legs while carrying the blades and would plainly have been more comfortable using all four limbs.

When the ape was gone the towering being loomed forward again, and the sky dimmed so that Arlian, without thinking, glanced up to see whether a cloud had passed over the sun.

The sky was clear, but its color was wrong, a sort of dull indigo streaked with reddish brown. The sun itself was the color of new-cut copper.

Arlian had seen magic discoloring the sky several times before, but never quite so close as this, so near overhead. He swallowed uneasily.

The creature spoke. Arlian was to remove any silver from his person, and give it into the servants' keeping.

This was not the custom in Manfort, but Arlian had been expecting it. Reluctantly, he took the silver chain from around his neck and tucked it into the purse on his belt, then untied that purse and offered it to the nearest ape.

The creature accepted it, and waddled clumsily away, holding the purse up at arm's length as if it were a loathsome and dangerous burden.

Arlian watched it go with unease. It was not the loss of his silver that concerned him, but the loss of the amethyst on that chain; he had not had any way to remove the stone from its silver mounting. He did still have a smaller amethyst tucked away in his pocket, but if he slept here he was not sure it would be enough to guard his dreams.

The redness-and-darkness spoke again, and the remaining ape-

things parted—to either side this time, rather than front and rear; Arlian was to enter the palace.

He took a deep breath, and marched up the three yellow marble steps and through the brass-trimmed door.

Neither the apes nor the yellow-eyed creature followed, but his way was clear enough—a single passage led deeper into the palace. He strode forward.

The corridor was unlit and window-less, and the doors closed behind him, but light came from somewhere ahead—blue light that made it impossible to judge the natural colors of anything he saw. He headed toward it, ignoring the faint whisperings and rustlings around him. The passage smelled of damp stone, but he saw no sign of moisture, and the air felt dry.

He wondered who or what he would meet. His captors had not said the Mage herself wanted to speak with him, only that she had wanted him to accompany them—but why else would she have summoned him?

And what else could be the source of that unnatural light ahead?

A Meeting with the Mage

20

A Meeting with the Mage

A moment later he emerged into what he at first took for a large room, but then recognized as a courtyard—he had been fooled by the blue light that washed over everything, shutting out the sunlight as ordinary-light would drive away the dark. The court was perhaps twenty feet square, with a single palm tree at its center and fountains in each of its four corners, the tree and the fountains all surrounded by flowerbeds; Arlian suspected that the flowers would ordinarily have been a dozen bright tropical colors, reds and golds and yellows, but now they were all various shades of blue.

Benches stood around each flowerbed, and on one of the benches around the central tree sat a woman—and it was from this woman that the blue glow came.

This, obviously, was the Blue Mage, and any question about the origin of her name was answered. She turned to look at Arlian as he approached, and smiled; her teeth glittered like sapphires, and her eyes glowed as brightly as blue flame.

The glow and the distorted colors made it difficult to discern her features clearly, but Arlian judged her to have the appearance of a young woman, certainly one no older than himself—but he knew she had been a major power in the lands beyond the border since before he was born.

Her hair flowed in rippling blue waves down across her shoulders and her back, reaching to the bench, and then not so much ending as fading away, like smoke, before reaching the courtyard pavement. She wore a dark blue gown that seemed to sparkle when she moved, but which had no perceptible jewels or ornaments anywhere upon it.

She was beautiful, but Arlian reminded himself that despite her shape, she was not a woman at all. She was a wizard, a creature of magic.

"Lord Obsidian," she said, as she rose from the bench. "Welcome to my realm." Her voice was low and musical and very, very beautiful, and she stood almost as tall as Arlian himself. He had never met a woman taller.

Arlian bowed deeply. "I am honored by your invitation, my lady—

or is it, perhaps, Your Majesty?"

"I am not concerned with titles, my lord; call me what you will."

"Thank you, my lady."

She stepped forward, then stopped perhaps two paces away as he straightened from his bow.

"You are Lord Obsidian, the Duke of Manfort's warlord, known to some as the Dragonslayer?" she asked.

"I am, my lady." If she knew this much already, he saw no point in lying. Her magic could probably detect or defeat any attempt at deception.

"So the spy told me, and I wondered at this. Why would the Dragonslayer come to Pon Ashti? There are no dragons here."

"That, my lady, is why I have come—to learn why there are no dragons here."

She tipped her head to one side. "Indeed? What a very interesting question to ask!" She gestured at a bench—not the one she had just departed, but one to Arlian's right, adjoining one of the corner flowerbeds. "Please make yourself comfortable, and we will discuss this, for so long as it amuses us both to do so."

"Thank you, my lady," Arlian said, seating himself on the indicated bench. The Blue Mage moved to an adjoining bench—not so much

walking to it as drifting—and sat down again.

This was beginning to confuse Arlian; it all seemed too easy, in a way. Was the Blue Mage really going to tell him what he wanted to know? Could it be that simple?

But at the same time, there were unforeseen complications. He had not expected her to know who he was; her reference to a spy puzzled him. Furthermore, simply looking at her, beautiful as she unquestionably was, was becoming painful. Trying to focus on her face was oddly tiring, and the glow she emitted, the only light in the courtyard despite the daytime sky overhead, was giving him a headache.

"You are sworn to destroy the dragons entirely, I am told," the Mage said.

"I have so sworn, my lady, yes—I have vowed to destroy them, or to die in the attempt."

"Why?"

"They killed my family, my lady. They burned my parents' home to the ground, burned my grandfather's flesh from his bones with their venom, killed my mother and my father and my brother Korian and all the village save myself. They kill at whim, destroying entire communities in mere moments. They prey upon my people as if we were cattle to be slaughtered. They have polluted me with one of their accursed offspring, and stolen away a part of my soul. Until they are exterminated humanity lives at their mercy, and I will not have it."