Cursed Bones: Sovereign of the Seven Isles: Book Five (48 page)

A few blows later and there was a hole large enough for them to climb through. Isabel went first, Alexander lighting her way. Ayela was next, followed by Hector. The passage was easily twenty feet wide and almost as tall. They moved quickly but cautiously for several hundred feet down the gently sloping passage before Alexander stopped a few dozen feet in front of a huge circular stone door. It looked almost like a giant gear with teeth along the edge fitting into a recessed track that ran off into the wall to the left. In the recesses of several of the teeth were heavy steel locking pins that fit into slots in the wall surrounding the door, holding it in place.

“I can’t go any farther,” Alexander said, appearing next to Isabel with a ball of light hovering over his head, “but I’ll stay here to provide light. Once you get the bones, I won’t be able to get near you.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Isabel said.

“I’ll still keep an eye on you,” he said as his body vanished, leaving only the orb of light.

Isabel approached the door, then stopped, staggered by the effects of the Goiri bones as their power enveloped her. Azugorath’s tendril that had been gripping her soul for so long released and withdrew like smoke blowing away on a breeze. Feelings of relief washed over her. The constant effort of resisting the Wraith Queen’s influence coupled with the vigilance necessary to prevent her occasional pushes to gain control had been taking its toll.

Then she realized that she could no longer touch the firmament, she could no longer feel her link to the light or the dark … or link her mind with Slyder. Sudden fear gripped her. She could deal with losing her magic, but Slyder was her oldest friend. She couldn’t stand the thought of losing him. Then she thought about what she’d said … that killing Phane was worth any cost. With a lump in her throat and renewed resolve, she stepped farther into the null magic field and examined the door.

The locking pins were all that was keeping it from rolling aside into the wall. She tried to pry one free but it was wedged, so she went to work on it with her hammer, which had become heavier when she entered the area and lost its ability to change weight in midswing.

Hector started working on another pin. It was difficult and slow-going but before long they had all of the locking pins removed. At first the door wouldn’t budge when they pushed against it, trying to roll it sideways along its track. Only after Hector used his hammer like a crowbar against the teeth at the base of the door did it break free and start to slowly roll aside.

Beyond was a large circular room with a domed ceiling covered in gently glowing green lichen. In a heap before the door was a pile of bones. The creature had been large, maybe nine feet tall during its brief lifespan. It had died trying to escape the place of its unnatural birth.

Isabel knelt before the remains of the Goiri, looking into the empty eye sockets of the unnatural skull half-buried in debris, wondering about its brief existence. The sound of boots came reverberating down the hallway, followed by the flickering of torchlight that played across the fine dust swirling over the Goiri’s bones.

“Here they come,” Hector said. “My magic is gone.”

“Mine too,” Isabel said. “Hold your ground and don’t leave the area. If our magic doesn’t work, then neither does theirs.”

Hector drew his twin short swords and took his position to the right of Isabel. She drew a sword and a dagger coated with blackwort. Ayela stiffly moved off to the side and sat down against the wall, crying softly. “I was really hoping that these bones would reverse what Hazel did to me,” she said.

The soldiers approached, fanning out with the two Sin’Rath witches behind them. Isabel backed up like she was afraid, trying to draw the witches into the room. They stopped before the edge of the field, smiling fiendishly. The one on the right looked almost human, except her skin was an unnatural grey, her canines were long and sharp, protruding past her lips and her eyes were completely black without any pupils or irises. One sharp horn jutted from her forehead, curving over her jet black hair, her spiked tail flicking about behind her.

The other wasn’t nearly so attractive. She was hunchbacked, her right shoulder large and powerful, her right arm longer and stronger than the left, which looked like a child’s arm except that it ended in black claws as did the right. Her eyes were red, the color of glowing embers, and her teeth were all black and needle-sharp. Grey, tangled hair grew in patches on her mottled scalp and her face was misshapen, almost like it was made of wax that had melted slightly out of form and then hardened.

“Well, well … will you look at this, Agneza,” said the first witch to her sister in a very reasonable voice. “The Reishi witch has finally run out of places to hide.”

“Yes, Peti,” Agneza said in a mewling voice. “We should eats her.”

“Seize them,” Peti said.

The soldiers started moving forward, entering the null magic field and moving to surround Isabel and Hector, not seeming to notice Ayela sitting off to the side. Isabel made no move to resist.

Trajan approached her and stopped ten feet in front of her.

“Throw down your weapons and surrender. You have nowhere left to run.”

“Trajan,” Ayela said weakly.

He looked at her sharply, noticing her for the first time.

“Who are you?”

“I’m your sister, but that isn’t important right now.”

When he turned to look at the unconscious body that one of his soldiers had placed in the hallway, the true form of the witches caught his attention. He spun to face them, frozen in place and staring in disbelief as the effects of the magic broke.

“That’s what they really look like, Trajan,” Isabel said.

His men were all turning to look at the two hideous witches, muttering and gasping in dismay, conferring with each other to see if their companions were seeing what they were seeing.

“You’ve been under their spell, Trajan,” Ayela said. “Just like our father is, just like his father before him. Our house has been at the mercy of the Sin’Rath for centuries.”

He looked at Ayela again, frowning in confusion.

“You’re not my sister.”

“Stop this!” Peti commanded. “Kill them! Kill them now!”

Trajan turned to face the witches, anger starting to build on his face.

“How is it that you look so hideous when only moments ago you were the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen? More importantly, how is it that I no longer feel compelled to obey you?”

Agneza snarled, raising her hands and unleashing a spell toward him. Blackness, the color of the netherworld itself, erupted from her fingertips and streaked toward Trajan. He raised his hands to ward against the attack … but it simply vanished when it passed into the null magic field created by the Goiri’s bones.

“It’s the bones, Trajan,” Ayela said. “They cancel out magic.”

“They don’t cancel out steel,” Peti said, turning to the unconscious form of Hazel in the hall. “Kill them or I’ll kill your sister.”

Isabel quickly scooped up a handful of rib bones and tossed them into the hallway all around Hazel. Peti tried to cast her spell but nothing happened.

“You’ve lost, Witch,” Isabel said. “These men can finally see you for what you really are.”

Trajan looked back at Isabel, their eyes met and she smiled.

“On behalf of Lord Reishi, I offer the House of Karth an alliance against the Sin’Rath and Phane,” she said, sheathing her sword and offering her hand.

Trajan looked at the witches for a moment, then turned back to Isabel and took her hand. Both of the witches shrieked in fear and rage before they fled.

Trajan picked up a femur lying near his feet and struck it against the floor, testing its strength, before smiling fiercely and sprinting up the hallway after the witches, followed by most of his men.

Before they could close the distance, both witches escaped the null magic field and turned their magic on the corridor ceiling, dark arcs of unnatural energy leaping from their hands, unmaking the very stone itself.

Trajan stopped and scrambled back toward the room, dragging Hazel’s unconscious form with him, as the ceiling in the corridor collapsed under several tons of stone and dirt, burying them alive in the Goiri’s tomb.

Chapter 40

“I’m worried about Alexander,” Abigail said.

“He’s got a lot more than just us to deal with,” Anatoly said. “He’ll be back when the time is right.”

It had been a week since his last visit. Magda was almost completely healed, though she still favored her shoulder, occasionally wincing in pain when she forgot about her injury and moved too quickly. Their food was starting to run low and Ixabrax was beginning to grumble.

“We could assault
Whitehall
on our own,” Abigail said.

Anatoly looked at her reprovingly. “You know better than that. Good information about your enemy is half the battle. Alexander can provide us with near perfect information. Patience is the wise course.”

“Patience has never been my strong suit,” Abigail muttered, getting up and wandering over to the cave entrance. The sky was bright and cold, and there was just enough breeze to add a biting edge to the day. She scanned the snow-covered slope of the mountain, her eyes locking on to movement in the distance. It was so far away that she couldn’t be sure, but the more she looked, the more certain she became—a company of soldiers was headed toward them.

“Looks like we have company.”

Anatoly stood, spinning his axe into his hands. “How close and how many?”

“Looks like all of them, but they’re at least two hours away.”

“Oh,” he said, sitting back down.

“Shouldn’t we prepare?” Magda said.

“I’m not sure we need to,” Anatoly said. “I suspect Ixabrax is getting hungry right about now.”

“True,” the dragon said, “but not hungry enough to eat a hundred men. Besides, I believe you’re all now well enough to ride, so I suggest we leave this place in favor of a closer position, say the crevasse. That way we’ll be in a better position to make our attack when the illusionary wizard returns with his battle plan.”

“Fair enough,” Abigail said.

“We should share the remaining two vials of dragon draught,” Magda said. “Otherwise we could easily suffer injury from exposure over such a long flight in this cold.”

They packed their belongings and donned their fur cloaks. Then Ixabrax squeezed out of the cave and unfurled his wings, stretching them wide before lowering his neck and allowing the three of them to climb aboard.

Abigail couldn’t help smiling at the exhilaration of flight when the dragon lifted off the ground. He flew straight for the company of soldiers marching across the snow field toward the cave, roaring as he passed overhead. Most of the men scattered in terror but one man caught Abigail’s eye. Haldir was leading them to the cave, his arms bound to a stout limb resting across his shoulders and tied to his neck. His torso was bare, red from the cold and from the blood oozing out of dozens of shallow slices cut across his chest. He slumped to his knees as he watched Ixabrax soar overhead with a mixture of vindication and awe.

Several hours later, Ixabrax arrived at the crevasse where Alexander had first found him. They made camp, waiting for Alexander to return and help them plan their attack. After several days, they ran out of food and firewood. Ixabrax left them to hunt. He was gone for nearly a day before he returned with a stag and a fallen log.

“Now I’m really worried about Alexander,” Abigail said while they prepared their first hot meal in days.

Anatoly nodded. “This isn’t like him. Something must have happened.”

“Have faith. He’ll return,” Magda said.

“My patience grows thin,” Ixabrax said. “I have delivered on my part of the bargain, yet your brother is nowhere to be seen.”

“Maybe we should think about making our move without him,” Abigail said.

“We’ve already been over this,” Anatoly said. “Our best chance for success is to wait. Without Alexander, we’d be going in blind.”

“I know the layout of the aerie,” Ixabrax said.

“What about the rest of the keep?” Anatoly said. “The best chance your family has is to wait for Alexander to guide us.”

“I agree,” Magda said. “We’ll free your family, Ixabrax … just not today.”

Several more days passed, everyone growing more restless and uncertain by the hour before Alexander finally appeared.

“Where have you been, Human?” Ixabrax demanded.

“Searching for my wife,” he said. “She’s buried under a mountain and I can’t find her.”

Abigail, Anatoly, and Magda surged to their feet, but no one knew what to say.

“I’m still hoping she’s alive but I can’t know for certain.”

“I don’t understand, why can’t you go to her as you have to us?” Ixabrax asked.

“She went after the bones of an ancient creature that won’t allow magic to work anywhere nearby. Every time I get close, I wind up back in my body on Tyr.”

“I’m sorry, Alex,” Abigail said. “I wish I could give you a hug.”

“Me too,” he said, closing off his emotions and focusing on the task at hand. “I’ve already spent too much time looking for her, knowing full well that the same thing’s going to happen whenever I get close, no matter which angle I approach from. It’s time to focus my efforts where I can be useful and hope she can dig her way out.”