Lisa Shearin - Raine Benares 02 (37 page)

I
showed him my teeth. “You should already know what my Plan B is; you brought
him here yourself. You might say you answered
my
call.” I spoke without
turning. “Talon, I need you.”

“The
words I’ve been waiting to hear, doll.”

“I
need you to take me back to that cell block.”

Talon
blanched.

Muralin
barked with laughter. “We brought him in blindfolded, seeker. Or didn’t you
notice even that?”

“Oh,
I noticed. I don’t need his eyes.”

The
laughing stopped.

“Talon,
I need your memories.”

“But
I was blindfolded.” He scowled at the dead Khrynsani around us. “And they let
me fall down a couple of times. I can’t lead you anywhere.”

“I
find people through objects that belong to them—or through psychic traces they
leave behind wherever they go,” I explained. “They’re called remnants. Since
the information that brought me this far may have been contaminated, I can use
your remnant to trace your steps back to that cell.” I smiled sweetly at Rudra
Muralin. “The same way I tracked Talon and your guards to that courtyard a
couple of nights ago.”

“Will
it hurt?” Talon asked quietly.

“No.”

He
leered a little. “Will it feel good?”

I
resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “No, it won’t feel good. You won’t feel
anything at all. Just come here.”

He
stood in front of me and I placed my hands on either side of his head. “Close
your eyes,” I told him.

He
closed them, but not before he gave me a sly wink. I needed to get a sense of
him, a psychic scent. I didn’t need his eyes closed for that, but looking into
those gorgeous aqua eyes would be a distraction I didn’t need. I also didn’t
need Talon knowing that I’d be distracted. I closed my own eyes and inhaled
with all of my senses. In seconds I had what I needed. Clear and strong, with
no Khrysnaniconcocted illusions between me and where I was going.

I
opened my eyes and released Talon.

“Gentlemen,
let’s go.”

My
Plan Bs usually involved thinking fast and moving even
faster. When you viewed it like that, everything
right now was going perfectly to plan. The remnant Talon had left behind when
he was brought up from that cell block was still relatively fresh and I
followed it without trouble.

Trouble
was what waited ahead for us. Tall, black, soul-slurping trouble.

Rudra
Muralin claimed that the spellsingers were going to be fed to the Magh’Sceadu
if he didn’t return. I knew for a fact that hadn’t happened yet. I remembered
the Khrynsani with Sarad Nukpana last week in Mermeia. The moment the Saghred
sucked their leader from the world of the living, every last one of them
suddenly remembered somewhere else they had to be. A Khrynsani would take a
prisoner; they’d take a life, but individual initiative? Forget it. Those
shamans were probably shaking in sheer terror that the moment they fed the
spellsingers to the Magh’Sceadu, Rudra Muralin would come waltzing back into
that cell block. No one wanted to risk making a decision and taking the flack
for any resulting screwups. It was the same in any organization, be it
business, government, or a military brotherhood of sadistic goblins—everyone
wants to take credit; no one lines up for blame.

Those
spellsingers were still alive. I knew it.

I
also knew there were Magh’Sceadu down there.

Last
week, I’d used the Saghred’s power to destroy six of them. But that was when
I’d worn the Saghred’s amulet around my neck. It was a beacon my father had had
made nearly nine hundred years ago to let him guard the Saghred from a safe distance.

When
the Saghred had helped me destroy those Magh’Sceadu, it was still imprisoned in
the vault where my father had hidden it. The Saghred had wanted me to find it,
and I couldn’t very well do that if the Magh’Sceadu had slurped me up. The
Saghred had a vested interest in helping me then. Would it help me now? I
snorted silently. No way. To the Saghred, those Magh’Sceadu and the shamans
that controlled them were waiters about to serve it the biggest meal it’d had
in centuries.

And
Piaras and I were walking right into the middle of it.

I’d
wanted him to stay near the back of our group, protected along with Talon, but
Piaras had refused.

Yesterday,
Ronan Cayle had worked with Piaras on his repelling spellsongs, using mirage
Magh’Sceadu as subjects. Piaras had been given five chances to stop them. He’d
failed all five times. He knew that and he still wanted to be on the front line
with me.

And
I’d said yes.

I was
either leading Piaras to what had to be one of the worst deaths imaginable, or
he was going to be our best hope of stopping those Magh’Sceadu. Piaras was
scared, but he was determined. And since chances weren’t all that great that we
were going to make it out of these tunnels alive, I owed it to him to let him
choose for himself how he was going out.

I
didn’t like his choice, but I respected it.

Tam
and his dark-mage hit squad followed me, a gagged and manacled Rudra Muralin in
tow. We didn’t want to bring him, but we could hardly leave him at our backs,
even wearing magic-sucking manacles. Tam said he might be valuable as an
incentive to get those shamans to release the spellsingers with a minimum of
fuss. When we got closer to the cell block, one of Tam’s men would put
Muralin’s lights out. An unconscious Rudra Muralin wouldn’t ruin a perfectly good
plan by telling his shamans to attack. It’s been my experience that a bound and
unconscious hostage inspired more enemy cooperation than a conscious and
defiant one.

A
girl screamed in pure terror. She was about to die and knew it.

“Katelyn!”
Piaras bolted into the dark.

I
swore and took off after him. Tam’s rough hands yanked me back. I twisted and
elbowed him hard in the ribs, and the Saghred’s power seethed between us. I
told the Saghred to shut the hell up, and glared at Tam the same way.

He
turned without releasing me. “Kontar, Tau. Stop him!”

Two
dark mages pushed past me and ran after Piaras.

Piaras
couldn’t see where he was going. Any Khrynsani shamans would see him coming.
Magh’Sceadu didn’t have eyes and they didn’t need them.

“Raine,
stay here.” Tam tightened his grip—and the Saghred flared in response.

My
response was to jerk away from him.

Tam
and his goblins didn’t need light. I did. I muttered a pale lightglobe into
existence.

“Keep
him here,” Tam ordered the two mages guarding Rudra Muralin.

I ran
after Piaras, Tam and his mages right on my heels. Any efforts at stealth had
just gone down the crapper along with Plan B.

The
bottom dropped out of the temperature; I could see Tam, my breath, and little
else. The air thickened with Khrynsani magic of the blackest kind, the kind
that created and controlled Magh’Sceadu. The air was hazy with it, disorienting
my sense of direction even more.

From
somewhere ahead of us came shouts in Goblin, curses, and spells.

Above
it all was Piaras’s voice. Sharp, staccato, piercing. Paralyzing. I didn’t know
if he was aiming at shamans or Magh’Sceadu, or both.

We
ran into the cell block and straight into a nightmare.

Magh’Sceadu,
Khrynsani shamans—and every last one of them focused on Piaras and Katelyn.

Piaras
had his back to the bars of one of four cells, one arm around the girl. His
voice had caught four Khrynsani shamans off guard, paralyzing them where they
stood. Piaras repeated the song, reinforcing the spell, taking no chances that
one of them could escape. He knew we were there, but he didn’t dare take his
eyes from the immobile shamans. His eyes were wide with fear, but he controlled
his voice and held the spellsong.

For
now.

Ten
shamans either already had their shields up or got them there before Piaras
nailed his first note. Good news was they were ignoring Piaras; bad news was we
now had their undivided attention.

But
those ten Khrynsani shamans were the least of our problems.

A
Magh’Sceadu glided patiently not five feet in front of Piaras. His voice might
be holding it off; maybe the thing was savoring the anticipation. It was tall
and hulking, almost hobgoblin in shape, if hobgoblins were made of black ink.
The cell next to Piaras had been thickly warded. Now those wards were open in a
thin line from top to bottom.

Magh’Sceadu
were oozing out of the cell one at a time, re-forming once they were out in all
their soul-sucking horror. Two were already loose in the cell block; more
shapes flowed restlessly in the shadows inside the cell, waiting their turn to
escape.

A
shaman in fancy robes chanted in a low, sibilant whisper, forcing a single
Magh’Sceadu slowly back toward the cell. As he did, a third Magh’Sceadu oozed
out of the slit in the ward, a fourth right behind him. Fancy Robes was doing
his work way too slowly and far too late.

One
of the paralyzed Khrynsani shamans couldn’t scream past frozen vocal cords as a
Magh’Sceadu flowed into, through, and over him, leaving nothing behind. The
other three paralyzed shamans were about to meet the same fate. The Magh’Sceadu
would take the easy prey first, feeding and strengthening.

Then
they’d be ready for a challenge. They’d come after us.

That
ward had to close.

“We’ve
got a minute, maybe less,” I told Tam, reaching behind his back and relieving
him of a pair of daggers. They probably wouldn’t do me a damned bit of good,
but being a Benares, I wanted steel in my hands.

Tam
pulled a short, curved sword and tossed it to Talon. The kid expertly caught it
and grinned.

“Protect
yourself,” Tam told him.

Talon’s
eyes narrowed and fixed on a Khrynsani shaman. “Yeah, that, too.”

One
shaman on the far side of the cell block opted for self-preservation rather
than staying to fight both us and starving Magh’Sceadu. He had a clear shot at
a tunnel mouth on the other side of the cell block and he ran for it.

The
shaman closest to Tam drew breath to spit a death curse, and Tam’s armored fist
took out most of his teeth.

Tam’s
hired help had fully engaged the Khrynsani, and I flung myself to the side to
avoid a noxious green spray that sizzled when it hit the wall behind me,
leaving it blackened and pitted with holes. What kind of crazed bastard summons
acid?

A
shaman launched a ball of blue light from the palm of his gloved hand, slamming
it full force into the wards on the spellsingers’ cell. The wards blazed
incandescent, sending white-hot needles of fiery light at the spellsingers.

Megan
Jacobs screamed. I couldn’t hear it, but I could see it. Ronan pushed two of
the kids down, shielding them with his body. One of Ronan’s silk sleeves caught
fire and he fought his way free of the outer robe before it could spread. The
kids whom Ronan couldn’t shield were bleeding in thin trails from where the
fire needles had struck.

Tam
swore. “Attack the ward, the ward attacks the prisoners.” He flung a
particularly nasty orange blast that glanced off of the shaman’s shields.

The
shaman smiled and tossed another blue fireball in his hand; this one was bigger
and darker, cobalt flames writhing inside. “That was a warning. This one goes
in
the cell. Tell your men to surrender, or I’ll roast those songbirds
alive.”

I
could have said, “Behind you,” but I didn’t.

A
Magh’Sceadu reared up and engulfed the shaman, wrapping itself around the
goblin’s body like living black quicksand. The shaman managed a scream just
before his head was absorbed. I thought I heard muffled screams coming from
inside the Magh’Sceadu. Then they stopped. Maybe it was my exhausted
imagination. If I survived, I was sure my imagination would replay it for me in
my next nightmare.

The
Magh’Sceadu came for us. Tam tried to get in front of me; I didn’t let him.

The
creature stopped, floating there, not more than five feet away. Magh’Sceadu
didn’t have minds, but this one was hesitating for a reason, and I think that
reason was me—but mostly the Saghred. Last week in a Mermeian forest, the rock
had used me as a conduit to destroy six Magh’Sceadu. I was just as scared now,
but I didn’t think my shortness of breath was fear’s fault. I also didn’t know
if that shaman had been the Magh’Sceadu’s first meal today—the Saghred didn’t
care. It just hungered. I also didn’t know if some Magh’Sceadu were smarter
than others, but it looked like this one might be.

Only
one way to find out. I took a step toward it.

Tam
sucked in his breath. “Raine!”

The
Magh’Sceadu flowed back the same distance and stopped.

Nothing
like a game of chicken with a soul-slurping monster. I think this one realized
I was more than he wanted to bite off. Point for me.