Dragon's Tongue (The Demon Bound) (52 page)

FIFTY FIVE

Vagner could not help but marvel at the ancient magic that filled this place. It had a sweet music, not unlike the little master’s voice when he spoke the demon’s True Name.

The path beyond the illusion of ice was wide enough to accommodate several walking abreast, and it curved at a gentle downward slope. This was not nature’s work either, for it seemed to have some plan of design, visible in the cut of the stone that glittered like glass in the little master’s mage light. How Alaric had summoned that illumination was a mystery, for he did not seem to be using his own essence, nor had he drawn any from the demon.

The curve of the path reminded Vagner of a spiral shell. He was considering this when he noticed the angle of the ceiling suddenly dropped ahead, and the path ended its circling slope at a set of spiraling stairs.
Steeper here,
he thought. They were traveling deep into the heart of the mountains.

“Will you look at that,” Shona said, her voice filled with wonder as they made the first turn.

“I’m looking,” Alaric said with a smile. He shifted his light so he could peer down the stairs. “This is certainly nothing nature has done.”

He moved his light more. A niche was visible on the outer edge of the stairs. The space within contained a statue of a woman in wind-swept flowing robes.
 
She had been artfully carved out of the obsidian that filled these caverns, and stood out in sharp detail when the light glanced off the minute details.

“The element of air,” Alaric said.

He took the stairs and came abreast of the next niche. This one held a masculine figure barely clothed in tongues of flame.

“Fire,” Shona said. “He’s rather…attractive.”

“Really?” Alaric said, waving his torch. “Looks rather girlish, if you ask me.”

“Jealous?”

Alaric failed to hide his smile as he continued. Vagner stopped and looked at the figure of fire. Demon senses quivered. Something about the statue he faced did not feel right, as an aura had been concealed in the shadows that stood behind it. The demon was about to reach for the face of the statue when his sense were assaulted by a cloying scent of mageborn magic with an all too familiar taint. The demon jerked back from the statue and stared up the stairs. He had felt that magic before in the Greenfyn’s keep. It clung to the one they called Turlough.
By the Barb, is he here now?
The prickle of magic came from somewhere above.

The demon glanced at the pair who continued slowly down the stairs, giggling over something one of them must have said. They seemed rather absorbed in the wonders of the next niche just visible around the curve, a beautiful earth mother with a bountiful and ripe figure.
I could go up and take a quick look,
the demon decided.
And be back before they go too far.

Vagner became a shadow and surged up the steps at his fastest speed, then followed the spiral of the path upward. He pushed his head through the illusionary ice and squinted at the world, giving his sight a moment to adjust to the change in light.

A whorl of gold and red beneath the ice ceiling above looked frightening. Even more so were the figures on the platform that soared through the whorl then hovered like a great bird of prey.
Turlough!
the demon thought. This was not good. Vagner had best go back and tell the little master Turlough was here. This was not good at all

The demon pulled back inside and turned…And froze when he saw the shadow resembling the graven image of fire now blocked the passage. For a moment, the demon waited, unsure of what to expect since in his experience stone and shadows rarely walked on their own. But then, the dark patina fell away like a black dust, shimmering and falling and vanishing to reveal a more familiar face. The demon was unsure now whether to run or shout as he faced the dreaded glower on the face of Tane Doran.

The bloodmage did not look pleased.

“Hello, Vagner,” Tane said.

“M…master,” the demon said. “What a surprise. Fancy meeting you here.”

“Really?” Tane stepped closer, and Vagner pulled back, only to realize that another step would throw him out into plain view of the mageborn who had come through the whorl. “Considering we were together just last night? But then, I consider this most fortuitous, monster.”

“Is that so?” Vagner said, glancing from side to side and wondering how quickly he could slip past Tane.

“Yes,” Tane said darkly, “because now I can punish you for lying!”

“Lying?” Vagner repeated. “But I cannot lie to you…why…”

“Of course, you can lie to me now, demon,” Tane said. “Just as you lied to me last night when you told me fire had freed you from my spell. And when you told me Alaric Braidwine was dead.”

“Well, he came very close to dying, no thanks to you,” Vagner blurted, then flinched.

“And here I find you helping him, following him into these caverns like an obedient dog,” Tane went on. “Now, I had to ask myself, why would a demon bound to me willingly follow a young mageborn he was supposed to have watched die. And the only answer that comes to my mind is that the demon was so foolish as to bind himself to that same youth.”

Vagner would gladly have shifted shapes and fled, but he could sense Tane’s power. The bloodmage was reaching into the demon, using his True Name to keep Vagner rooted to the place he stood.

“You lied to me, monster, and now you help him!”

“Well, I have also helped you, haven’t I?”

Silence!
Tane did not speak the word, but Vagner felt it burn him with his True Name. He cringed, waiting for the worst to come. But a hand took his jaw gently, pulling his face back around to meet the bloodmage’s steely gaze.

“I will give you a chance to redeem yourself, demon,” Tane said. “I have been down in this place all night, and most of this day, trying to find the Dragon’s Tongue, and now I see it is impossible for one of
my
ilk to find it because I do not have the whole key. And I have wasted much power in my attempts to break the spells of illusion and diversions that abound here, and quite exhausted my power in the process. But Alaric Braidwine has the whole key, and he will be able to lead me through the illusions to find what I seek. So, demon, it would seem I have need of you after all.”

Vagner straightened up, looking concerned. “I do not understand, master.”

“I rather suspect young Alaric will sense me if I simply follow him too closely on foot. So you are going to help hide me from him that I may follow him. You will put an illusion spell on me so I cannot be seen as anything but a part of you…”

“But I must carry you for that to work,” Vagner said. “I…”

“Have no choice,” Tane said with a frown. “Or have you forgotten that even with my powers drained from use, I can still inflict much pain on you with your True Name?”

Vagner shook his head. He had not forgotten. It was the part of the binding that all his kind dreaded. The inability to break free even when the master was weak. For doing so would mean death for the demon as well…

“Good,” Tane said. “Now, work your magic demon. I sense others are near whom I have no desire to meet…”

You’re not the only one in that
, Vagner thought.

“Work your magic demon,” Tane repeated. “And give me your essence…”

Vagner heaved a sigh. What he really wanted to do was bite Tane’s head off and damn the consequences. But warm pain—just the merest flicker—touched him. The demon flinched, then crouched and allowed Tane to mount his back and settle between his wings. Then he rose and called his magic, spreading the illusion over Tane so the bloodmage seemed to melt into the demon.

Tane chuckled. “Well done, creature,” he said, and Vagner could feel the bloodmage leaching essence to strengthen him.
Parasite,
the demon thought.

Now any who saw them would think they only saw the demon.

Only Vagner would know the weight that clung to his back was Tane.

~

Alaric had been relieved to learn the passage widened and curved like a nautilus shell. And the essence of this place practically fell into his hands, giving him free rein to call his own magelight unassisted. His mage senses quivered with delight at the power he felt.

Now to find statues that had to be older that known, recorded time…Something from the age before the Great Cataclysm.

Air, fire, earth, water, sky, stone; all these paled when he and Shona reached the bottom step.

The last figure to occupy a niche was that of a woman. She stood taller than all the rest, and had been carved in wondrous detail. Stone had been etched so wisps of hair flowed about her shoulders and the folds of her robe looked as if they would move if one touched them. About her throat was a torc in the shape of a dragon. In one hand, she held what looked like a set of scales, but instead of trays, the ends of the armature dangled with teardrop lobes. Alaric stepped closer and saw they were carved with runes he did not recognize.

“What do you think those mean?” he asked.

Shona leaned closer, squinting. “I don’t recognize them. Too bad Etienne is not here. They look like something I’ve seen in those books of hers…”

“Vagner, what do you think?” Alaric said, then paused when no answer came. “Vagner?”

Alaric turned. The demon was nowhere to be seen.

“Vagner?” he called and his voice echoed. “Where did he go?”

Shona shrugged. “Surely, he didn’t pass us,” she said. “I mean, can’t you feel him?”

“He went back,”
Ronan said.

“Back?” Alaric said aloud, then felt his face flame warm when Shona cocked her head questioningly. “Ronan says Vagner went back,” he repeated shyly.

“Then so shall we,” Shona said. They both started back up the spiral of stairs. Alaric reached out with mage senses and got a hint of demon essence, but it felt masked and softened, and not at all as bitter as he recalled. Alaric frowned.
Ronan, is something wrong with Vagner?

“He is covering his essence,”
Ronan said.
“Masking it.”

Why?

They reached the top of the stairs when a shadowy shape loomed. Shona gave a startled squeak, and Alaric came close to echoing it. The shape came into range of the light and proved to be Vagner. Alaric frowned, for the demon moved as cautiously as an old man.

“Vagner, where have you been?” Alaric asked.

The demon hesitated. “I had to…relieve myself.”

“Do demons do that?” Shona asked.

“Well, of course we do,” Vagner replied, looking a little indignant. “There are several old spells from the age before the Great Cataclysm, as a matter of fact, for which one of the key ingredients is demon piss…”

“I’m sorry I asked,” Shona said, her brows rising.

“He’s not telling the truth,”
Ronan said.

But he can’t lie to me,
Alaric thought.

“I suspect that serving three masters makes it easier,”
Ronan insisted.

Alaric frowned. “Vagner…Be honest. Where did you go?”

The demon blinked, uncertain.

“Why are you clouding your essence, creature,”
Ronan said in Alaric’s voice, and Alaric bit back a curse.
I wish you wouldn’t do that,
he thought.