In the Darkness (25 page)

One of the advisors was exasperated. “Your Majesty, you should stay here. You mustn’t risk yourself. We don’t know what other devices he may—”

“Nobody can end this but me, and I don’t want to waste any more of my soldiers against his bloody army. Get me a carriage now!”

“Your Majesty—”

“Don’t argue with me, Uliette.”

“No, we have a chance and we must take it. But there is more you need to know. The traitor Cydrich tricked Evin and then used him to trick us.”

“Evin…?” Denua’s gaze flicked to him.

Evin kept silent while Uliette spoke. If Denua took the impression that Evin had lied, or was involved in a plot, she might have him executed immediately. However, he was sure Uliette believed that if losing him didn’t prove to be a fatal mistake, it would certainly prolong the fight.

Let her do the talking.

Uliette said, “We thought Cydrich gave orders to Evin simply because he was nearby when Cydrich needed to send a message to you, but there is a reason
why
Evin was there. The creature Cydrich said he destroyed looks like an ill-born man. He was Evin’s friend. Cydrich clouded Evin’s mind, made him think his friend was a monster that Cydrich killed, and sent him here to tell us. In truth, Cydrich did not kill the creature but took it and used sorcelry to turn it into this army.”

Denua stared at Uliette. “The sorceled door in the field wasn’t a door. It twinned the creature.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“I could never know of the approaching army because there was no army.”

“And yet a force of any size, once Cydrich arrived. Until we smashed the door.”

Denua looked to Evin. “All these creatures are your friend?”

Evin nodded. “If you can kill Cydrich, I can end the fighting.”

“I’ve seen it myself,” Uliette said. “We would have ended the fight already, but the creature is too afraid of Cydrich to resist his commands.”

Chapter Twenty-five

The flight over the castle wall took them high enough for Evin to briefly see the devastation of neighborhoods where the invaders marched. All around the city, pristine, snow-covered rooftops shone in the faint light of a crescent moon. To the southwest, the snowy cityscape was marred by columns of smoke and flashes of fire from the queen’s bombardment. Neighborhoods were burning, and Evin could only hope none of the Gareths had been caught by the flames. His stomach was leaden with worry.

Denua had ordered that the bombardment remain well away from her destination but that it continue until the invaders were subdued. How many Parigians would die tonight simply to prevent Cydrich from noticing a change in strategy?

The carriage turned toward the southwest, cutting off his view. The place they were headed, the museum at Balmorda University, was nearly in a direct line between the castle and the point where the invaders entered the city.

The flight was swift. Presently they arrived at the museum, a building constructed like a small castle or cathedral, made of a dark stone that looked black in the night. Their carriage landed on the museum’s rooftop. Denua’s guards were the first out of the vehicle, leaving to scout the rooftop for threats before signaling that it was safe for the queen to descend. More carriages landed and disgorged their troops.

Hundreds or thousands of booted feet marched in the streets below, a sound interrupted occasionally by the clash of weapons and shouts or screams. A hopeless chant drifted up on the wind. “Please don’t fight us. We don’t want to hurt you.” Denua gave her troops terse instructions about how to disperse within the building, then beckoned Evin and Uliette to follow her. She allowed only a few units of her troops to enter before she herself went into the building.

The museum had wide, open floors, with most of the space occupied by tables or cases containing treasures. It was nearly as cold inside as out. The building was empty, and the great fireplaces at either end of each floor were dark. Evin couldn’t see much, but progress through the building and down the stairs was swift. Denua led her group through the halls with no hesitation.

A crash echoed from below, followed by the sound of splintering wood. Denua led her group on until they reached the flight of stone stairs leading down to the ground level, which was actually two stories high. Evin looked down as they descended. Faint light glinted off rows of display cases filling the floor. At one end of the room, an arch gaped onto the night. The door had been broken open.

In through the arch streamed groups of men whose lamplike yellow eyes glowed from within their helmets. They fanned out through the room, taking positions. Some headed toward the stairs as Denua and her group descended.

“Please don’t fight us,” several of them said in chorus. Then, “Evin?”

Evin stepped down toward them. All of them within earshot were staring at him now. “I’m here with the queen. Cydrich will want to see her. We can end this, Gareth.”

“Get out of here. Don’t let him see you!” Slight variations of the plea whispered by many voices that were all Gareth’s voice fell on Evin’s ears and lay like stones on his soul. “Please go, Evin!”

The shape of another man swept in through the open arch, and the Gareths instantly fell silent.

“Take us to him. We won’t resist you,” Denua said.

When some of the Gareths moved quietly to take the weapons from Denua’s entourage, she nodded and indicated for her people to comply. Then the Gareths led them down to the ground floor, where several surrounded Evin, pulling him to the side and hiding him from view with their bodies.

“We’re trying to save you,” one of them whispered in his ear. Evin was engulfed by the scent of leather, sweat, and Gareth. His heart lugged in his chest.

“Hush,” he whispered back. “I’m saving you first.”

Light flared, and a star-bright spark rose to the room’s high ceiling. Cydrich had activated one of his devices. It lit up the room. Evin peeked over the shoulders in front of him to see glimpses and reflections of the old man racing between display cases. Cydrich shouted in glee, and glass crashed.

“Cydrich!” The queen’s voice filled the room. “Surrender yourself to me.”

“Oh, Denua! You’re just in time.”

Evin ducked and slipped between two of the Gareths. Before they could get their hands on him, he dodged between people and display cases, trying to get close enough to see. In his wake, he trailed shocked gasps as more of the Gareths recognized him. When he got a good view and stood still, Gareths closed around him, and one leaned in to whisper, “We’re trying to save you.”

“Let me see!” He nudged them.

The sorceler raked his gaze over the room, seeing his troops guarding the queen’s men. “Oh, I see you brought soldiers for me to surrender to. How nice. Step forward now so I can greet you properly.”

Denua emerged from the crowd of invading soldiers, guarded by one who had his hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t let her reach for anything, boy. Hold her wrists.”

“Why are you here, Cydrich? What do you want that brought you with an army to my city?”

“Ha-ha! One little thing, Denua, that you might have given me years ago.” He stood before a waist-high display case that he had smashed open. He rested his hands on the gilded edges of the case and gazed down at a sword in its scabbard, resting on a satiny red cushion.

“That sword? All this death for a trinket in a museum?”

“That’s what you think, isn’t it, Denua? You’ve lived so long, lifetimes to learn, but you know nothing.” He took something from his bag—Evin caught a glimpse of a stone, small, dark, and polished—and touched it to the sword.

“I know your monsters can’t stop me from cutting you down,” she said, and the blue glow of her shield’s aura flared. The Gareth yelped and snatched his hands away from her. Denua advanced on the grinning sorceler. From inside the display case, the sword hissed and a red light shone up on Cydrich, creating shadows that made his face demonic.

He watched Denua approach. “So you’ve decided to find out if your sorcelry is stronger than mine. You suck the life’s work out of the real scholars, using it to your ends, but you don’t
earn
it, Denua; you don’t earn anything. You’re not educated. Have you ever created anything? Ever performed an experiment? Have you ever spent just one day of your life in study?”

“Why should I, Cydrich, when I can make use of foolish tools like you?” Denua’s ensorceled sword unfolded in her hands.

Cydrich seized the museum sword by its scabbard and lifted it from its resting place. “You’re the foolish one, to come here, witch. I’ve beaten you now.”

He advanced, holding the sword up, his gaze boring into her face as she stared back at him with undisguised contempt. The red light came from the stone Cydrich had placed in the pommel. “I’ve done my research, Denua. This sword will cut through any shield. Even the one you wear.”

“Would you like to die quickly, Cydrich? I could take off your head first.”

He swung at her, and despite the little space they had, crowded with displays and people, she danced lightly back.

“Give me your bow!” Evin whispered to one of the Gareths standing in front of him.

That one just shook his head. The one beside him said, “You can’t hurt him—” And another finished, “You’ll only make him mad.”

Denua feinted, then whirled her sword around to cut a gash in the unarmored man’s side. He shrieked and leaped back. Evin saw that Gareth was right. As the combatants circled one another again, a pale, purple light coruscated across the sorceler’s ribs. In that light, the skin closed and healed.

“Can’t kill my soldiers, can’t hurt me!” he said in a singsong voice. “What next, woman? Are you ready to die?”

Denua gave a frustrated shout and flew at him, swinging wide. Cydrich managed to bring his own blade up to parry—

And his sword cut through Denua’s as if it were only a reed. Most of her blade tumbled away to crash into a display.

After a brief moment of surprise, Cydrich realized his victory. He raised his blade to her throat. “Get on your knees.”

When she stood in defiance, his gaze flicked to a Gareth who stood behind her. “Put her on her knees, boy. Don’t let go while you still live.”

Evin shouted, “Please, don’t do this, Gareth, no!”

That one looked at Evin for a moment. Evin saw guilt and sorrow in his eyes despite the helm covering his face. But then he complied by placing his hands on Denua’s shoulders and using his vast strength to force her down to her knees. The blue light of her shield crackled along his hands and arms. He grunted but held on.

“There, look at what you’ve come to, woman. I have the sword. Now I’ll take your life and your throne!” Spittle flew from Cydrich’s lips. Denua glared at him in contemptuous silence. Cydrich gripped the sword in both hands and raised it high over her upturned face. She closed her eyes.

“I’ve lived a long time,” Denua said.

“Too long!” Cydrich brought the sword down in an arc that ended at her face.

The blade struck the blue aura surrounding Denua’s head and held there. It didn’t split her skull. It didn’t break her skin.

Emotion and color fled the old man’s face. His only remark was, “Oh no.”

“Long enough,” Denua said, “to seed rumors.”

The pommel stone of Cydrich’s sword glowed with increasing intensity.

“Long enough to write codices filled with lies of ultimate power.”

Cydrich shook the sword now, as if his hands wouldn’t release their grip.

“To scatter false grimoires and clues and trapped devices, there to catch traitorous sorcelers who are so very
educated
but so very, very stupid.”

She stood. The Gareth who had been holding her did not resist. All eyes watched Cydrich struggle as the sword’s light enveloped him. He burst into flame and began a long scream of rage and pain. The pommel stone’s light died out, and the sword tumbled from Cydrich’s melting hands.

Denua laughed. Everyone else stood dumbfounded as the burning sorceler shrieked and danced. He bashed into display counters, breaking some of them and setting frail treasures alight. When he came close to Denua, she reached out with her shielded hand and pushed him away to crash into other displays. His soldiers couldn’t help him. They only scattered to avoid the fire when he came too close.

But Denua’s pleasure at her victory was short-lived. As Evin watched Cydrich’s death dance, the jagged bolts of purple light rippled over Cydrich’s flailing body; and where that energy flowed, skin destroyed by the fire was instantly renewed. A kind of struggle raged between the tongues of flame and the purple flashes. Back and forth they raced, fire consuming the remnants of his clothing, blackening and fusing flesh that the magical light restored again and again as the smoke and stench of his burning filled the air. The sorceler still screamed, but after a few seconds, it was obvious that the purple light would win the battle. Soon the sorceler would be whole.

A blast of flame licked across Cydrich’s face, bursting an eye that had just been renewed and causing the flesh of the brow to melt and run in a suppurating mess. In the instant before the skin was remade, Evin glimpsed an object. A purple jewel embedded in the sorceler’s brow, just above the bridge of his nose.

One of the Gareths screamed, “The stone!” He ran to the burning sorceler and seized him by the throat. Flames were dying out on Cydrich’s body, but they raced up Gareth’s arm, setting him to burn. His scream turned to agony, but he held on and dug at the sorceler’s forehead with his claws.

Evin looked on in helpless horror. “No! Stay back!” The fire consumed that Gareth, who was dying even as he struggled to rip at Cydrich’s face. But his claws couldn’t penetrate the sorceler’s skin. Evin watched, wailing and unable to look away.

Other Gareths stepped past Evin now, moving toward the struggle. The one who held the sorceler wasn’t screaming anymore. Flames had burned out his throat and washed up to envelop his face. Another Gareth reached the burning pair. He put his hand on the back of his dead brother’s burning skull and pressed it into Cydrich’s face. Fire flowed up his arm as he held it there. When Cydrich’s head again caught fire, Gareth pulled his brother away. The sorceler’s brow was briefly ruined once more, and in the moment the gem was exposed, Gareth snatched it free and threw it aside. It shattered against the stone floor.