Lisa Shearin - Raine Benares 02 (6 page)

“To
get it over with,” I said.

Mychael
nodded, and the Guardians posted on either side of the door unlocked,
unlatched, and opened it.

The
stairs and the room below were brightly lit, but only for the benefit of the
Guardians on duty. Being its own self-contained little world, the Saghred made
its own interior light. The outside world was not visible from inside.
Unfortunately, I had this knowledge firsthand.

The
room contained only the essentials—four Guardians and the object they guarded.
One look at the Saghred sitting on its pedestal told me that the stone had its
figurative eyes closed, but it was far from asleep. Unlike with a child
pretending to be asleep, Mychael, Ronan, and I weren’t just going to turn off
the bedroom lights and close the door on our way out.

Sarad
Nukpana was nowhere to be heard. Maybe he’d rolled over and gone back to sleep.
Maybe he and his new friends were up late last night plotting world domination.

I
didn’t like any of it, no maybe about it.

The Saghred
sat on a small table in the center of the room, still in the translucent, white
stone casket Mychael had used to transport it to Mid. It was still translucent,
but it sure wasn’t white.

I
couldn’t ever think of a time when a red glow was a good thing.

The
Saghred’s glow reminded me of an angry, red eye. I half expected to hear a
warning growl to go along with it. The rock was clearly not amused, which told
me the shields might be holding. Barely.

I had
heard about the kind of power Conclave-trained Guardians could put into their
containment spells. It was an accepted fact that if a Guardian clamped
something or someone down, it stayed put. I didn’t think the Saghred had heard
the same stories—and if Sarad Nukpana had, he was delighting in ignoring them.

The
Saghred’s glow faded to a softly pulsing pink, and I felt the faintest tug,
like a child’s hand wrapping around my little finger, a soft insistence, a
come-watch-what-I-can-do kind of invitation. Sweet and innocent and perfectly
harmless.

“You
can bat your eyelashes at me all day,” I told the Saghred. “I’m not buying.”

I
could only describe what happened next as a tantrum.

The
containment box lid sprang open and a beam of blood-red light shot out and
engulfed one of the Guardians. He screamed, and I lunged for the box. I knew it
was a bad idea. I also knew it was exactly what Sarad Nukpana wanted. But I
knew the Guardian was dead or worse if I did nothing.

As
soon as my hand touched the open lid, I realized just how bad an idea it was.
The last voice I heard from outside the Saghred was Mychael’s shout.

My
world turned gray and silent.

More
of a twilight fog actually, the kind you see on a waterfront pier—just before
you step off the edge. Last time I had been inside the Saghred, it had been a
gray void filled with filmy figures. This almost looked the same, but with the
notable and welcome absence of the figures. I wasn’t going to complain; some of
the figures had wanted me dead. Besides, there was no one to complain to. Then
I saw movement through the shimmering silver light, movement that resolved
itself into a tall figure. I looked around. There was no cover, no place to
hide; I was half tempted to close my eyes. If I couldn’t see it, maybe it
couldn’t see me.

“It
doesn’t work that way,” the figure murmured.

I
knew that voice. The speaker emerged from the shifting mist. Sarad Nukpana. I
wasn’t surprised, but I sure was disappointed. Of all the Saghred’s residents,
he was the one I least wanted to run into.

With
a negligent wave of Sarad Nukpana’s elegant fingers, the fog retreated.

No
mere featureless wasteland would do for Sarad Nukpana.

We
stood in a space filled with sensual comforts. A low bed covered with pillows.
A plush chaise upholstered with fabric that looked too soft to be real, a low
table with two chairs, the table set with glasses and a heavy, cut-crystal
decanter of dark, ruby liquid. My feet sank into a fur rug so soft and
decadent, I had to resist the urge to drop and roll. Not the sort of
surroundings you’d expect of someone plotting world domination.

Sarad
Nukpana himself didn’t look any worse for wear, and he also looked amazingly
solid. Going from corporeal to disembodied soul hadn’t diminished his dark
beauty one bit. His long black hair was shot through with silver and fell
loosely around his strongly sculpted face; the tips of his upswept ears were
barely visible through the midnight mass of his hair. Nukpana’s pearl gray skin
set off what was any goblin’s most distinguishing feature—a pair of fangs that
weren’t for decorative use only. The danger didn’t detract from the race’s
appeal; some would say it fueled it. I guess all that sinuous grace and exotic
beauty can make you overlook a lot, and Sarad Nukpana was certainly
devastating. He was also insane—that I couldn’t overlook.

“You
redecorated,” I remarked, my mouth dry. “Not my taste.”

His
eyes were bottomless black pools. “It suits my taste—and my needs—perfectly.”

I
didn’t move. “So the newest inmate gets to choose the color scheme?”

He
laughed, a dark, rich sound. “In a way of speaking. I am the newest here—and
the strongest.”

I
couldn’t help but notice that the plushness extended only so far. I wondered if
the same was true of his influence. Where the room’s walls should be, the void
with its shimmering waves of mist resumed.

“Did
someone else not agree with your taste?”

The
goblin’s flawless face remained expressionless. “The most intimate surroundings
are small. I have all that I need here.”

“Or
are you using all the strength you can spare?”

The
goblin’s dark eyes narrowed. “Still playing dangerous games, little seeker?”

“They
seem to be the only kind available.” I helped myself to the plush chaise. “You
wanted me here, and you went to a lot of trouble to make it happen.” I leaned
back and crossed my legs. It really was very comfortable. “What do you want?”

“To
make you an offer.”

“No.”

He
smiled. “ ’No,’ I can’t make you an offer, or ‘no,’ you refuse?”

“Oh,
you can make me an offer; I just won’t have any part of it.”

“Just
like that.” His smile broadened, his fangs peeking into view. “No hearing me
out and then casting my offer back in my face?”

“That’s
right. Regardless of what you say, I already know I’m going to turn you down.
And since you’ve turned my mind into your personal bedroom, I’m sure you know what
I know. So it seems counterproductive to prolong this conversation any more
than it has to be.”

“I do
know your thoughts. See what you see.” He paused suggestively. “And feel what
you feel. Shall I hazard a guess as to why you fear what I can offer you—what
the Saghred can give us both?”

“Insanity
and prolonged death? Just because you’re merrily skipping down that path
doesn’t mean I want to join you.”

“I
merely want to give you what you truly desire.”

“You
and the rock are going to go away?”

“That
is not what you really want.”

This
promised to be good. I crossed my arms. “And just what is my heart’s desire?”

“Power.”

“No,
power is what
you
want.
I
want you to vanish.”

Sarad
Nukpana made himself at home on the bed, and took his time doing it. “There are
many kinds of power— with many uses. So we can both desire power, but have
different uses for it. That does not change the fact that we essentially want
the same thing.”

I’d
heard enough and sat up. “I’ve seen what your idea of power does. There isn’t
anything I could want less.”

“Even
if you had the power to protect?” His smile was slow and confident. “The power
to defend those in danger, the ones you love? The power you scorned this
morning. If you had accepted what the Saghred offered, that girl wouldn’t be in
Banan Ryce’s hands.” The smile reached his black eyes. “That means whatever is
happening to her this very moment is entirely your fault. You could have
prevented it with one word.”

I
didn’t move. “The Saghred doesn’t offer that kind of power.” I said it, but I
wasn’t sure of it.

“Oh,
but it does.” His voice rubbed over me like the soft fabric beneath my
fingertips. “The power is the same; the only difference is how it is used. You
could choose how you use your gift. That is what the archmagus fears; it is the
fear your paladin won’t admit. The strength the Saghred gives you also gives
you the strength to choose.”

“Whether
to become a disembodied soul now or later? I don’t consider that much of a
choice.”

“Your
choices are the Saghred’s choices. Do you think you and your paladin chose to
bring the Saghred to Mid? Hardly, little seeker. The Saghred chose where it
would go, and who would take it there. We are all instruments of its will; I
have merely found a way to make that will work to my advantage.”

“So
you want to live like an evil genie in a bottle?”

“It
will not be forever.”

“I’m
sure your buddies in here felt the same way—for the first hundred years or so.”
I looked out into surrounding grayness. There were slender forms all around us.
They weren’t the screaming wraiths I’d encountered last time I was inside the
Saghred; these were standing perfectly still, patiently waiting for something.
Creepy. I could feel the power coming off of them, though the force from Sarad
Nukpana was stronger. He was definitely the big dog in the pack. For now. I
wondered which one out there was second in the pack order. Disturbingly, my
father was nowhere to be seen.

I’d
had enough, and stood. Sarad Nukpana rose and came toward me with predatory
grace, quicker than any mortal creature had a right to move. He caught my wrist
in his hand. I had to remind myself that the goblin wasn’t mortal anymore.
However, his hand was strong and all too solid around my wrist. I felt his will
meld with the Saghred, stretching outward, beyond the room, beyond the void.

I
dimly heard an agonized scream. The Guardian.

Two
could play at that game. With my free hand, I grabbed the front of his shirt
and twisted my fingers until the silken fabric was firmly knotted in my fist.
“Release him. Now.”

There
was a flicker of surprise in the goblin’s dark eyes. He expected me to be
afraid. I was. But I was a hell of a lot more angry. In my family, rage wins
out over fear anytime.

“Such
a small request,” he murmured. “You are certain you do not wish anything more?”

“Let’s
see . . . You gone, the rock gone, your lawyers gone. That would pretty much
cover it for me.”

“Those
are not within my power, or yours.” He moved his body slowly against mine, and
it was all too obvious he liked being this close. “But the Guardian is within
your power to free,” he whispered against my ear. “The Saghred is yours to
command. Tell it to release him, and it shall be done. Immediately. You only
need to will it.” He drew back just enough to gaze down at me, his dark eyes
shining. A slow smile formed, fangs visible. The goblin’s smile told me that he
would love to see me do it. Probably because the moment I asked the Saghred for
one favor, it could demand one right back. I had a feeling that the rock’s idea
of a small favor would be something along the lines of my eternal soul on a
platter, like a bunch of grapes to be plucked one at a time. I wasn’t about to
be served up to anything or anyone.

If I
did nothing, the Guardian would die. And I had a feeling he would be the first
of many until the Saghred, or Sarad Nukpana, got what they wanted.

I had
another feeling. Actually it was more like a realization. Sarad Nukpana
couldn’t have decorated all by himself. Nor could he be attacking that Guardian
all by his lonesome. He and the Saghred were connected in some way and feeding
off of each other.

If I
hurt one of them, the other should at least blink. I was counting on Mychael
acting when the rock blinked. Nukpana was standing close enough; his breath was
warm against my cheek. I’d wonder later about how disembodied souls could
breathe, let alone be warm. Wonder later; act now. His hand on my wrist had
felt solid enough. Let’s see how solid the rest of him was.

My
knee was ready to find out when the floor buckled beneath our feet and the
silvery void rippled with an unseen impact. Nukpana and I landed hard on the
floor, and I rolled clear and came to my feet before the goblin could get his
hands on me again.

The
void beyond Nukpana’s bedroom was lighter now, like the sun trying to force its
way through heavy fog. The light faded and then flared again with increased
intensity.

Nukpana
looked up into the void and laughed. “Your paladin is trying to rescue you. An
impressive effort. He must fear for your safety.”

That
made two of us.

I was
standing on the edge of Nukpana’s bedroom, and my hand brushed against the
void.