Bewitched & Betrayed (42 page)

“Not for long,” I growled.

I wanted to scream, I wanted to kill Sarad Nukpana, I wanted to cry, but most of all I wanted to use what I had. I mean
really
use it. For the first time, and possibly the last, I wanted to cut loose with the Saghred. Take down anyone who had hurt me or had hurt anyone I cared about. But through the red haze of my rage and pain, I knew that once I did that, there might not be any going back. Cancel that—there definitely wouldn’t be any going back.

As of this moment, I did not care.

Everybody said that Saghred had unlimited power. I had a big damn surprise for them. It wasn’t unlimited. All it could do was kill, suck souls, and destroy—none of which would get Sarad Nukpana out of Tam’s body without taking Tam with him.

Killing everyone in that bunker except for Tam would have been smart. Leave no live enemy behind, receive no dagger in the back was a Benares family mantra. But that would have taken time. Even with steel and magic, it would have taken time we didn’t have.

Get out, get clear,
then
get even.

The bad thing about any kind of defensive spell, even one with a touch of Saghred power, was that unless you broke their legs, the bad guys would get up and come after you. It might take them a few minutes, but you could count on a group of very pissed-off, armed people on your ass pronto. So you escaped and you did it fast. I had to get out, warn Mychael, and when the goblins followed us, they’d have plenty of trouble and we’d have plenty of backup.

And Nukpana/Tam would be out in the open where either I or Mychael or Justinius—or hell, it might take all of us—might be able to get him immobilized long enough to get a team of exorcists to work on Tam.

The success of that plan depended on Mychael and Justinius not being on the other side of the Conclave complex. I was counting on Janos Ghalfari being right. Mychael was close by.

The tunnel was longer than it had any right to be. Piaras was ahead of us with Dad’s lightglobe, his sword held deceptively relaxed in his hand, his eyes alert. Piaras wasn’t relaxed; he was ready for anything. The kid who I loved like a little brother wasn’t little anymore. His shoulders were back and the responsibility he carried now just made him stand all the straighter, his quick strides sure and determined. It couldn’t have been a trick of the light—there was just one lightglobe—Piaras shimmered with a luminescence that I’d only seen once before when he’d fought at Justinius Valerian’s side, his back against a wall, killing every demon that came against him.

A faint green glow the size of a fist shimmered unmoving in the dark ahead of us.

My gut knew what it was before the Saghred told me.

A ward.

I didn’t care about the ward, either.

“That’s the door leading outside,” Piaras told us. “That glow is a ward; I don’t know what kind.”

The door was huge, metal, and looked like it’d been forged from the same mold as the one Nukpana had closed on us. The rats ran out of a hole under the base of the door. A breeze stirred the dust and dirt on the floor. Fresh air, outside, and so close.

Shouts and booted feet ran toward us down the pitch-dark tunnel.

Khrynsani.

“It’s a goblin ward,” Dad said, getting as close as he dared. “I don’t know how to—”

“Fuck the ward,” I snarled. “Dad, get behind me and shield them.” He did and I aimed all of my rage and my will and my pain at that lock and ward and hit both of them with everything I had. Metal screamed as the door was ripped off its hinges, sending it flying up and out into the blinding sunlight. Panicked shouts and screams erupted from all around us as we shielded our eyes and scrambled out onto the grass of a massive quad, surrounded by buildings—and full of mages and young apprentices.

Crap in a bucket.

My eyes were blinking and tearing with the light, but there was no mistaking mages running at the sight of us—or probably at the sight of me. I glowed with the remnants of the power I’d just used, and a few feet away was the door I’d turned into a twisted, smoking metal ruin. No doubt we made quite a picture.

Damn, but that had felt good.

My vision cleared and I saw two goblins, walking quickly away from the chaos I’d caused.

Nukpana/Tam and Janos Ghalfari.

There’d been another way out of that bunker, and they were getting away.

Oh, hell no, they weren’t.

I ran after them and black- robed mages scattered like startled crows to get away from me. I couldn’t let Nukpana and Ghalfari out of my sight.

“Mychael!”
I screamed in mindspeak. The leftovers from the power that’d blown that door sky-high amplified my voice into a massive mind bellow. The mages closest to me fell to the ground, clutching their heads. Just what I needed: sensitives.

Nukpana/Tam and Janos Ghalfari quickened their pace toward a group of young student apprentices. Ghalfari glanced back at me and smiled. Those young mages were hostages for the taking. He expected me to stop or at least slow my pursuit.

I was finished doing the expected, the noble, and the sane. Rational thought had no place in my mind anymore; it’d been drop-kicked by revenge.

“Damn, girl, think you made enough noise?” barked a familiar voice coming up behind me. Someone who liked revenge just as much as I did.

Justinius Valerian.

I turned to see that the mages who had scrambled out of my way scuttled even farther away from the old man and his phalanx of armed Guardian escorts.

“Not nearly as much as I wanted to,” I told him. Tam being possessed by Sarad Nukpana didn’t need to be public knowledge, even to Guardians. I got next to the old man and whispered in his ear, my words succinct and clipped with rage. “Nukpana’s possessed Tam; they’re getting away. Where’s Mychael?”

Justinius calmly nodded toward an archway that appeared to be the only way out of this side of the quad. Nukpana/Tam and Ghalfari were about to pass under it. “Taking on those two goblins.”

I looked up. Mychael was on the roof.

Oh hell. He didn’t know.

“Nukpana’s possessed Tam.”
I tried for quiet this time.

Mychael’s head snapped up and so did the crossbow he had trained on Janos Ghalfari. He’d thought Tam was a hostage. He was, just not in the normal way. Apparently Saghred-amplified mindspeak cut through all of the mage distortion. At least the rock was doing something useful.

We couldn’t confront Nukpana/Tam and Ghalfari, at least not here. There were too many chances for too many people to die, and Tam was one of them. If Ghalfari took an apprentice hostage, a trigger-happy Guardian or hero-wannabe mage might just think that Tam was his partner, not his prisoner.

When I looked back at Mychael, the roof was empty.

Oh crap. “What’s through that arch?” I asked Justinius. “The stables. And this time of day, it’s full of horses and coaches.”

The goblins would have their pick of transportation.

I started forward. “He’s not getting away with Tam.”

Justinius’s wiry and surprisingly strong grip on my arm jerked me back. “He can’t get away with you, either.”

The Saghred’s power surged like liquid fire through my veins. The old man slowly removed his hand from my arm, though I know the rock had burned him. Badly. I’d felt it strike. Most men would have screamed and been on the ground. Justinius definitely wasn’t most men. We had enough terrified mages looking at us—looking at me; he didn’t want to add to the show. He just stood there, regarding me with cool, blue eyes, assessing, not judging. At least not yet.

The Archmagus of the Conclave wanted to know right here and now if I was a danger to his people. If he decided that I was, he would act.

Right here and right now.

I slowly let out my breath and met his eyes; hopefully they weren’t glowing, too. “Sorry, sir. The rock’s pissed. I wouldn’t let it eat Tam.”

“Understandable.” Justinius’s face was expressionless; his question for my ears alone. “Do you have it under control?”

His real question was, or was it controlling me.

My lips narrowed into a thin line. “As much control as I’m willing to get until after I save Tam.”

His hard eyes never wavered. “Then let’s go get him.”

 

 

The stable area was busy bordering on chaotic, but not because
of Nukpana/Tam or Janos Ghalfari. Mages were coming to work, meetings, or classes, and the grooms more than had their hands full stabling horses. Just beyond the stables themselves was an area for coaches and their drivers to wait for their employers to return.

It was noisy, busy, and damned near impossible to spot two dark-garbed goblins in the sea of dark-garbed stable hands.

Damned near, but not quite.

There were more horses and grooms than mages and the magical distortion lifted just enough for me to sense Tam through our bond, muffled though his presence was—and for Sarad Nukpana to sense me. That was fine; it wasn’t like I was trying to hide. He knew I was following him.

Mychael’s presence suddenly flared strong and clear. Then I spotted him. He and Vegard were quickly coming down the stairs leading from the building’s second story down into the stable yard. Nachtmagus Vidor Kalta was close behind them.

Uniformed Guardians were covering doorways and exits, as were some men in plain clothes who didn’t look any less military or deadly. Any spell let loose in here could ricochet and kill who knew how many. Mychael said something to one of his men as he strode past, and the man sprinted to where a uniformed Guardian stood. The Guardian nodded to a man in a window across the courtyard, and the signal was passed on from there. I didn’t know what the signal was or what Mychael had told them to do.

He was keeping it from me.

I knew why, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. I didn’t, not one bit. Mychael had to have seen or heard what I did in the quad, and like Justinius, he couldn’t take the chance that I wasn’t in complete control of myself.

Or because of Nukpana’s possession of Tam, had the goblin managed to tap the Saghred—and me?

Laughter welled up in my mind, mocking, derisive.
“No one trusts you anymore, little seeker. Like Tamnais, your hours are numbered.”

Then Nukpana’s presence vanished, suddenly and completely.

The bastard was making his move.

I had to tell Mychael. Nukpana might still be able to hear every word, which was fine with me. The goblin certainly knew his own plans.
“Nukpana’s going to leave Tam’s body, infest yours, go to the citadel, and steal the Saghred.”
Short, sweet, and supremely scary.

Precious seconds ticked by in silence. Dammit. Come on, Mychael. Answer me.

“How long?”
Mychael asked.

Huh?
“How long, what?”

“Good.”
Then all presence of him vanished from my mind, too. Mychael had plans of his own and didn’t want the goblin listening in.

Or maybe me, either.

I scowled. “Is Mychael talking to you?” I asked Justinius. The question came out more like a snap, definitely sharper than was wise considering the man might be toying with the idea of my annihilation.

The old man grinned impishly. “The boy likes to keep his thoughts to himself when he’s about to ruin some asshole’s good time. Don’t take it personally.”

“So you’re not planning to exterminate me?”

“And miss watching you rip Sarad Nukpana a new one once we get him out of Tam’s body? No, girl. I’m long overdue for some fun.”

Then a lot of things happened.

Shouts, the screams of panicked horses, and the hollow thumps and whistles of crossbow bolts.

Shooting. I couldn’t believe it; the Guardians were shooting at them. Surely Mychael had told them not to hurt Tam. My eyes tried to look everywhere at once. Mychael was nowhere to be seen. I swore and ran for the main gate. I heard the whistle of the bolt a split second before I flattened myself against the gatehouse to avoid being tacked there like a bug to a board.

Khrynsani.

So much for where the ones chasing us down the tunnel had gone. But there were definitely more than four keeping the Guardians at bay. Looked like Ghalfari had arranged some manpower to cover his escape.

They were firing on the Guardians, and Mychael’s boys were letting them have it with the same and more.

Fire was the Guardians’ weapon of choice and magic was its fuel. A Khrynsani timed his shot wrong and the next instant a thin shaft of blue fire punched a hole through him as clean as a lance. The fire didn’t go out but continued to spread and consume until the goblin was a dark stain on the cobblestone street.

Two other Khrynsani went up in flames exactly the same way, but the others kept firing crossbows and throwing red flaming spheres. The goblins were outnumbered and outmagicked, but they didn’t retreat one step.

It was a suicide attack. The crazed bastards were dying as a distraction so Nukpana and Ghalfari could escape.

“Step aside,” Justinius told me calmly.

I did. I had no problem with that. The old man was aiming for Khrynsani guards.

I wanted their bosses.

Justinius chose a target, pointed at it, and a fiery needle of molten silver shot from the tip of his finger, passing completely through a goblin in the act of summoning a red ball of flame. He raised his other hand, palm out, and with a shaft of white fire, vaporized two Khrynsani who had the poor judgment to shoot at him. I didn’t stick around to watch the old man have his fun; I had my own pair of goblin targets.

The coachmen with the bad luck to have high-strung horses had all they could handle just keeping their teams from bolting. If you asked me, the horses had the right idea. I darted among the coaches, following Nukpana’s trail while trying to keep myself from being trampled by terrified horses.