Daughter of Magic - Wizard of Yurt - 5 (31 page)

“I remember hearing your tales about him,” said Paul, “years ago, when you and Father came back from the East.” He turned to Justinia with the good-natured assumption that she would want to hear the story too. “They were maneuvered, by wiles that set the eastern kingdoms aflame with war as I recal, to a black obsidian castle. And there lived a princely wizard who had once, a great many years earlier, betrayed my uncle, an uncle who died long before I was born.”

I nodded slowly. “When we met him in the East he already felt injured by the royal family of Yurt, and since then he’s had an especial reason to hate me. He has wanted for years to find Yurt.”

“And it was the wil of God that he find it when I was there,” said Justinia gloomily.

We fel silent, listening to the thunder continue to rumble around the ruined castle. Gwennie suddenly spoke up. “Do you remember, Paul,” she said, not bothering with his tide, “one time when we were little, and it started to thunder like this, and you put your arm around me like this and told me you’d protect me?”

Justinia looked past the king at the other woman, her eyebrows raised as though in approval. He gave a low chuckle. “I certainly do remember. I was just as scared as you were but I didn’t want to admit it.

What would we have been—maybe about five?”

Antonia’s age. And there was no one to comfort her.

Theodora shifted and spoke as though deliberately trying to distract her own mind from Antonia. “So Cyrus, you think, is Vlad’s pupil?”

“He must be. The unliving warriors who attacked the royal castle were made by the same magic. I think now that Cyrus was sent into the West as Vlad’s agent, to find Yurt and to attack the castle for him, and to send word back when he found it. If the warriors— and the spel of madness in their bones—or the wolf succeeded in kiling me or the king, al was wel; or, if not, Vlad himself would soon arrive. At the time I thought those attacks a little too easy to overcome.”

“What do you mean, easy?” protested Theodora. “You were almost kiled!”

“Wel, yes, but I did overcome them. I stil haven’t found a way to oppose Vlad’s magic directly.” With this depressing thought we al fel silent.

Then, over the sound of me storm, I heard approaching steps. Here he comes, I thought, pushing myself to my feet. If I could take him off somewhere for a private conversation, he might not guess who King Paul was, and maybe I could stal until morning or until such time as Elerius ever got here—

But it was not the regular tapping of Vlad’s feet. It was someone running.

He hit the door hard, and then I felt more than heard a sharp crackle. Blue light flared for a second around the doorframe, and I could sense a powerful spel breaking up. I hadn’t known it was even possible to break a magic lock.

“Elerius?” I caled with a wild surge of hope.

The bolt shot back and the door swung open. “No, it’s me. Cyrus.”

Ill

The others pressed into the doorway behind me. “Where,” said Theodora between gritted teeth, “have you taken my daughter?”

“She’s fine,” said Cyrus with an expansive gesture. “You’l see her very soon. But you have to come with me.”

I spread my arms protectively, keeping the others back. Paul reached for his knife again, but I distracted him with an elbow in his ribs. “We’re not going anywhere with you, Cyrus,” I said defiantly. “You’ve already tried to kil me twice, and you’re working with a demon. You denied it to the bishop, but your ‘miracles’ owe more to the supernatural power of evil than to the saints. And you’d need a demon’s power to break Vlad’s lock.”

He shrugged. “Wel, the demon might have helped me there. But he’s not with me—he’s somewhere else,” he added vaguely. “And this is the last spel on which I’l need his help!”

“Why hast thou come to unlock our door?” said Justinia fiercely. “Didst thou not think we would recognize such a trick?”

“No trick! I am here to save your lives. Vlad wants to kil you al, but I don’t.”

How did he, Vlad’s accomplice, expect us to believe that he would save us from Vlad? The candlelight glittered in his dark eyes. He was, I thought, completely mad.

“Dost thou intend instead to obtain al for thyself the reward from the Thieves’ Guild?” demanded Justinia.

Cyrus shook his head. “I know nothing of the Thieves’ Guild. Come at once! Al of you! You have to trust me if you want to escape. Do you not wish to preserve your lives?”

“Wel, I do,” said Justinia with sudden decision. “I am dead if I stay in Vlad’s captivity.”

“And if you have my daughter,” said Theodora, intense and low, “I don’t care how many demons you’re working with.”

‘Then folow me!” said Cyrus and turned to walk briskly down the corridor. Justinia and Theodora folowed as surely as if he had been playing his enchanted pipes, and the rest of us, after only a second’s hesitation, hurried behind. At least we were no longer locked in, I thought grimly.

“Vlad told me he sensed you arriving at his castle, Daimbert,” said Cyrus over his shoulder. Thunder continued to rumble loudly over our heads. “He says he’s wanted to see you again for fifteen years! But I was fairly sure his intention was evil. That’s why I knew I had to provide a distraction in order to rescue you.”

“You mean the lightning is due to you?”

Cyrus chuckled. “You can do a lot when you’ve got a demon on your side! The thunderstorm shouldn’t let up before morning. Of course,” he added, “that was the next-to-last spel on which I had the demon help me. Breaking the lock was the last.”

Somebody who had sold his soul to the devil, I thought, didn’t stop asking a demon for favors. There was always just one more thing. The demon would happily provide him al the favors wanted as long as he asked—or until the demon became bored and decided to play tricks of his own on the man who had summoned him.

We darted down a maze of corridors, several times coming out from under shelter into a roofless area where the driving rain soaked us again. I didn’t dare use a spel to shelter us against the wet for fear of attracting vlad’s attention, and Cyrus seemed neither to notice nor to care. In a few minutes we reached a wide staircase. “You’l be safe here,” said Cyrus confidentiy, leading the way up.

“I think the chambers up here were built for a visiting dignitary,” said Paul as we climbed. “It’s some of the newest construction in the castle, and it’s rather separate from the rest. The roof is stil intact.”

“You know the castle too?” asked Cyrus, pleased. Paul bit his lip, but Cyrus did not ask more. Instead he seemed eager to show us into the chambers.

We al stopped and stared. The large room beyond the door at the top of the stairs was furnished with soft couches and tapestries, and a fire crackled in the fireplace. I blinked and tried the two words that would end an ilusion, but this was no ilusion.

“It should be nice and comfortable for you here,” Cyrus said, watching our reaction. He was hoping, I thought, for more praise and adulation. “Aren’t you pleased? Aren’t you impressed? And Vlad won’t find you. It wil be for him as though this part of the castle didn’t even exist.”

“This certainly didn’t exist before,” said Paul, entering slowly. Justinia, however, rushed straight to the fire and held out her hands. The flames seemed real enough.

“The demon helped you out again?” I asked cautiously.

‘“Of course! It was the second-to-last spel on which I had his help. You’l al find some dry clothes on that couch over there. Vlad told me there were some people with you, Daimbert, but I wasn’t sure how many or what sizes you were, but something should fit.”

He smiled, his eyes strangely bright. “And if you’re stil worrying that I’m evil just because I occasionaly have a demon help me, let me assure you that the saints help me as wel. You implied that the miracles that made me famous in Caelrhon were al demonic, but I’l have you know that rebuilding the burned street was due to the saints. I certainly prayed over it, and as I was walking home from the cathedral, thinking about it, an angelic messenger came and whispered in my ear.”

I looked away, feeling sick. The demon had started to toy with him already.

“Now!” Cyrus said cheerily. “I need to go show myself an obedient pupil to Vlad, appear to be helping him with his weather spels, so that he won’t be suspicious.

But I’l return soon. We’l go see the children together when I do—the dear little things. You see how much I trust you? I’m not even locking you in!” He hurried away, leaving us staring at each other. None of us, not even Justinia, showed any interest in dry clothes conjured up by a demon. “At first I didn’t believe it,” said Gwennie in a smal voice. “But how else could he . . . I’ve never known anyone who sold his soul before.”

“Summoning a demon and asking for favors is certainly the surest way to damn yourself,” I said quietly. “I don’t think even the saints can help you then. But it’s stil not the quickest or easiest way to damnation. If Vlad imagines his soul can stil be saved just because he’s stayed clear of demons himself, he may have a nasty surprise on Judgment Day. At this point, a demon wouldn’t even be interested in him

—no use making bargains for a soul that already belongs to the devil.”

“If we realy aren’t locked in,” said Paul, trying the door, “let’s get out of here.”

“No,” said Theodora, short and hard. I noticed that, under the pressure we al felt, she too no longer treated Paul with the respect usualy offered a king. “He said when he came back he would take us to the children. It may be our only chance to find Antonia, and we don’t dare make him angry. He and his demon wil certainly be able to find us wherever we are in the castle, and if he’s teling the truth then at least for the moment we’re safe from Vlad.”

I nodded glumly, although the last thing I wanted to do was to wait, in a room filed with comforts a demon had provided for us, for a madman: one who had imagined that a demon’s soft voice in his ear was an angel’s, or for that matter that there was any way he, with human power alone, could break free of the devil.

The three women and I seated ourselves on the couch by the fire, our clothes steaming in the heat. The king remained standing, tapping his foot, ready for a fight that was not there. “I wonder if I’l ever see my sword again,” he muttered, “and whether it’s stil a snake.”

“Steel won’t do any good against wizards like these,” I said resignedly, “much less a demon. This castle was ruined by armies during the Black Wars, but the same armies that were able to do this much destruction were stopped by wizards who had become sickened by the carnage—and that was only wizards like me, practicing white magic. Come sit down.” The storm continued unabated outside, but in this warm room it seemed far away. “I thought Cyrus was a preacher in Caelrhon,” said Paul, settling himself between Justinia and Gwennie. “Celia said he was studying in the seminary. What’s he doing practicing black magic?”

“He was a seminary student, al right,” I said slowly. “It makes no sense whatsoever. It never has. It’s almost as if he were two different people, one of whom wants to be genuinely pious, and another who has learned magic from Vlad and relies on a demon’s help for his most spectacular effects.” I didn’t add that it looked to me as if the conflict between these two personalities had pushed him over the edge into madness.

Theodora roused herself to tel the others about Cyrus’s first appearance in Caelrhon under the name of Dog-Man, his apparendy miraculous healing of the children’s toys and pets, and his evolution, once he had been accepted into the seminary, into someone who preached Christian doctrine to large and reverent crowds.

“And who kidnaps little children,” said Paul grimly. “Since they’re al from Caelrhon they aren’t my own subjects, but it doesn’t make any difference. It’s a good thing you didn’t try to leave me behind again, Wizard.

I couldn’t consider myself a king if I didn’t go after someone who did that to a group of helpless kids.”

I had no idea how Paul and Joachim managed to consider themselves fathers to entire kingdoms; I had enough trouble being the father of one five-year-old. “Just don’t kil Cyrus quite yet, sire,” I said. “For one thing, I don’t think you could. For another, at the moment he’s al we’ve got.”

“You-don’t trust him, do you, Wizard?” Gwennie said incredulously.

“Of course not. Not even for a second. The third reason I don’t want Paul to kil him yet is that I want the pleasure of doing it myself. But in a ruined castle now harboring a wizard who is genuinely and unequivocaly evil, a demon, and my daughter, I’ve got to use whatever fragile leads we may have to free her.”

We sat in silence then, listening to the thunder and the fire’s crackle. I wondered how long we had been in the castle and how many hours there might stil be of night—or if the clouds would ever lift at al. We may even have dozed a little, warm and exhausted, but al our heads came up abruptly when there were quick footsteps on the stairs and the door swung open again. “Good, I’m glad you didn’t try to slip away!” said Cyrus cheerfuly. ‘Then I would have had the trouble of finding you al over again.” ‘To deliver us to Vlad?” I asked fiercely. “Of course not,” said Cyrus, coming to warm his own hands at the fire. “He stil thinks you’re locked up where he left you. Weren’t you listening? I’m trying to protect you! I brought you to this nice room so you’d have a chance to start thinking better of me, but it doesn’t seem to be working. And you haven’t even put on the clothes I prepared just for you. You’l have to learn to trust me.” The others looked at me as though expecting me to know what to say or do. “If you want us to trust you, Cyrus,” I said carefuly, “then we’l need to understand a little more clearly why you should want to rescue us from your master, the man who taught you magic, to whom you brought the children of Caelrhon.”

“I told you al that back when we first met, Daimbert,” he said, flashing me a happy, crazed look from his deep-set eyes. “Vlad was my master once, it’s true, but when I entered the seminary at Caelrhon I decided to put al magic behind me.”

“This,” I said accusingly, motioning at the comfortable room around us, “does not look to me like putting magic behind you. Nor does putting a summoning spel on children.” Keep him talking, I thought. Find out al I could about him: his reasoning, his motivation, his magic. So far I hadn’t seen anything that could help.