North Star Guide Me Home (47 page)

‘No, no — just making sure everything is in order.’

Rasten folded his arms across his chest. ‘You’re checking up on me. Why?’

When the Akharian didn’t immediately reply, Rasten cocked his head to study him. ‘Something’s gone wrong. And you’re making sure I had no hand in it.’

‘No insult meant,’ Kasurian said. ‘I’m sure you understand why we’d scrutinise an unproven ally.’

‘Well, if you’d come a few moments later you’d have been scrutinising me fucking the mother of the king’s son,’ Rasten said, narrowing his eyes. ‘Would that be proof enough for you, southerner?’

‘Lord Rasten, the fact that I find you exactly where you’re supposed to be makes the matter clear.’

‘And what matter is that?’

‘Step outside and I’ll tell you. The general wishes to speak to you. He assures that your … amusements … will be here when you return.’

Rasten glanced at the two women, Delphine pressed against the wall and Mira sprawled on the flagstones, fresh tears on her cheeks. ‘They’d better,’ he said. He strode across to Mira and crouched down, taking her head in his hands. His voice low, he murmured something in her ear before he shoved her down again, then turned on his heel and strode out, as his globe of light winked out behind him, leaving them in utter darkness once again.

Isidro could smell the smoke, now, and through the link he could feel the tearing pain in Sierra’s chest. Her mouth tasted like an ash pit and her throat felt raw and scorched.

What’s happening, Sirri?

I can’t tell. There’re a lot of people, Akharians, I think.

Don’t go any closer. Rasten’s heading there, he can tell us what’s going on. Stay back, catch your breath.

She didn’t argue, but simply retreated into the darkness, slumped with weariness and pain.
Issey, I want you out of there.

Soon. Right now, they think I’m no threat, and I can gather information. Just hold tight —
he broke off as the door to his own chamber opened, and another of the Battle-Mages stepped inside, looking worried. He gave Isidro a suspicious glance, and beckoned his guards with a jerk of his head.

‘What?’ one of the guards demanded, but the newcomer made no reply. He simply slid his eyes towards Isidro and shook his head.

Muttering, the guards followed him from the chamber. Outside, they spoke in low murmurs, until one blurted out, ‘But what about the prisoner? We can’t leave him unguarded.’

‘I know, but … wait. Fontaine!’ This last was shouted. ‘Fontaine, come here, we need you to watch this cursed prisoner.’

‘Can she be trusted?’

‘It’ll only be a few minutes … and besides, Pelloras has promised her to that cursed Blood-Mage if she steps out of line.’

‘Can’t come soon enough,’ the other guard muttered. ‘Annoying little trollop.’ He raised his voice. ‘Fontaine, we have a job for you — come watch this prisoner. Just keep an eye on him, and block this door against anyone who isn’t one of our people. Don’t listen to anything he tells you, and don’t let him talk you into untying him. In fact, don’t talk to him at all, you understand?’

‘Of course I understand, you wretch,’ Fontaine snapped. ‘I’m not an imbecile.’

‘Well, in that case, why don’t you see if you can get the prisoner to talk?’ the other man said. ‘I’m sure Pelloras would be impressed by your initiative.’

‘Hold your cursed blather,’ the first of the men said. ‘Fontaine, get in there and stand guard. You two, come on.’

Fontaine slipped into the room, gazing after them for a moment before she closed the door. Then, she turned to Isidro, and he felt her energy pulse as she built a shield around them. ‘Did you get her out?’

He studied her in silence.

‘Oh, by the Black Sun herself — I’m Nirveli, Isidro, truly. I know I’ve broken your trust, but there was no other way. Did you get Sierra out?’

‘She’s safe,’ he said at last. ‘But Nirveli — how? I know the face you’re wearing. I knew the girl who used to wear it.’

She hooked her thumbs into her belt. ‘She’s still around. Bits of her.’

‘What happened?’

She sighed. ‘It’s complicated. They were running some experiments, back when I was in the wall. They ended up creating a conduit. An accident, but I saw my chance and took it.’

‘So, you … you took over Fontaine’s body?’

‘Yep.’

‘And is she … still in there?’

‘Bits of her, like I said. There was some damage when I made the leap, and I’ve been whittling away what was left, but I had to keep enough to step into her shoes and deal with these wretches. Oh, don’t look so shocked, you’d do whatever it took to defeat these wretched Slavers. Dear Gods, she really hates Delphine, and you as well. And that lass who ran away. But you know what they say, all’s fair in love and war.’

‘I suppose so.’

‘I had to set you up, Isidro. I couldn’t stop the attack, so I had to ensure it failed. I couldn’t get to Sierra’s harness, so I had to sabotage yours and hope it would be enough for you to save her. Where is she?’

‘Waiting for the best time to strike. What’s going on out there, Nirveli?’

She frowned, biting her lip. ‘I wish I could tell you. All I know is that something’s gone awry. Something not of my doing.’

Kasurian led Rasten back down to the basement level, away from the chamber where Sierra had been imprisoned.

He saw the light first, the steady glow of lantern-stones. There were men standing around two dark shapes on the ground. There were two bodies sprawled on the flagstones, in front of an open door.

The nearest body had a tiny dart embedded in his throat, fletched like an arrow. Pelloras crouched to pull it out and held it up to the light. The tip was little more than a needle, the whole thing no longer than the width of a man’s hand.

‘Well, well,’ Rasten said. ‘Have you lost a prize, Pelloras? Was this where you were holding the king?’

Still scowling at the thing, Pelloras turned to Rasten. ‘What is this?’ he said, ignoring the question.

‘A blow-dart. They don’t get used much, the pipes are unreliable. They fill up with ice from the breath.’

‘Hmm. Fine for a single use though.’ Pelloras glanced at the other corpse. ‘Or two in close succession. But one little needle isn’t enough to kill. Do your people have a poison that can kill in moments?’

‘My people?’ Rasten said with a scowl. ‘I have no people, southerner. The northerners have such a poison, derived from a kind of grub, I think. It’s no simple matter to prepare. I never used it. Works too fast.’

Pelloras growled to himself. ‘Demons take them. How many times did we go over the poisons the wretched Wolves could supply? By all the Gods, I knew they were holding out!’

‘Then why didn’t you do something about it?’ Rasten said. He’d positioned his back against a wall, and kept his power ready. ‘So what happened? The deal was the Wolf would get the redhead and her son, and your folk keep the king, but then you crossed them and kept the baby prince for yourselves, so they took the king in revenge.’

Pelloras lifted his head with a fierce glare. ‘How does he know that?’ he demanded of Kasurian.

‘The queen told me your men took the baby,’ Rasten said with a shrug. ‘So, the Wolf Clan kept this poison up their sleeve for months, just in case.’

A deep, crimson flush of rage crept over Pelloras’ face. He stooped to pull out the other dart, which had struck the second man in the cheek, and handed them to Kasurian. ‘If we had had the cursed stuff in the first place things would have been simpler, but it’s an ill wind that blows no good. Go stick them in the cursed Sympath, if she’s still alive. By all the hells, stick them in her anyway. Best to be sure.’

‘Yessir.’ With a careful salute, Kasurian set off through the halls.

‘Alright,’ Pelloras growled, ‘the rest of you, start a search. Those stinking dogs have no cursed power — they can’t get past our men, and they can’t hide for long. Bring them to me, alive. Lord Rasten, I believe you’re about to get your first subjects on the emperor’s behalf.’

As Pelloras began to organise the search, Rasten peered into the makeshift cell. It was utterly bare — there was no sign of a struggle.

He pulled back when Kasurian returned, his face sallow and beaded with sweat. ‘Sir, she’s gone.’

‘Hmph. Good,’ Pelloras grunted. ‘And good riddance.’

‘No, sir, I don’t mean dead. She’s
gone
, sir! She’s not there!’

While Delphine crawled under her bed to cut through to the level below, Mira tore a sheet in half to carry the babies. ‘Are you through?’

‘Just a little longer.’

‘And where do we go? There’s not many ways out of the palace after Cam and the others sealed it.’

‘No. They likely used the main entrance. It’s the closest.’

‘So, we’ll just have to get past the mages guarding the door.’

‘I have something that might help with that,’ Delphine said.

‘What about weapons? Do you have anything to fight with?’

‘I … I’m afraid not. I meant to put in a couple of knives, but I never got a chance.’

‘Maybe we can pick things up along the way. Are you through?’

‘Almost, I … ah, there we are.’

‘Anything below?’

‘Let me make some light …’ Delphine cupped her hands together to create a glowing orb, and dropped it through the hole.

The room below was empty and dark. There had been some talk about what purpose the rooms around the royal quarters should be put to, though she hadn’t paid much attention to the discussion. Some part of her mind still seemed convinced that matters of security and defence were concerns for other people.
I won’t make that mistake again,
she said to herself.

Right now, the rooms were deserted. Judging the distance to the floor, Delphine bit her lip. She’d never been the sort of rough-and-tumble girl to scramble around in trees or jump off clifftops into rivers. Growing up as a Collegium brat, she’d never had the opportunity.
I’ll make sure Illiana does,
Delphine thought,
in case she ever gets in a mess like this.
Thinking of her baby, of the tiny, precious bundle relying on her mama to keep her safe, Delphine squeezed her eyes shut and jumped.

She landed with bruising force, throwing her arms out to catch herself and smacking them hard enough to send her hands numb. She lost control of the light, and it winked out into darkness. Hastily, Delphine cupped her stinging palms together to create another one.

Mira dropped the satchel full of stones down to her. ‘I’ll send the babes down in a sling, but by the Twin Suns, be ready to catch them.’

She did just that, settling the babies snugly into a pocket in the long strips of cloth and lowering them through, first Illiana and then Eshta. With too few hands to manage them both, Delphine set Illiana down on the bare stone, murmuring soothing words when the babe immediately began to fuss.

Once both babes were safely down, Mira stuck her head through the hole. ‘Anything else?’

‘No that’s —’

Mira cut her off with a hiss, and her head withdrew. A moment later, she came slithering through the hole, falling to her hands and knees. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, and crawled to snatch up Eshta, raising her finger to her lips, and pointing up. ‘I heard someone coming,’ she whispered. ‘Run.’

Delphine’s heart seemed to convulse in her chest. She gathered Illiana up and they hurried from the chamber, their soft indoor boots silent on the polished floor.

Outside, the only sign of the guards assigned to watch over these chambers was a splatter of blood across the floor and up one wall.

Mira set off at a run, heading for the entry-hall. It was only once they were some distance away that she slowed and then halted at a panel of carved wood. Shifting Eshta to one hip, she ran her free hand along it until she found a particular spot and pressed it hard with the heel of her hand. There came a
click
, and the panel swung open like a door. ‘In here,’ Mira whispered, and after Delphine followed her inside she eased the door closed again, and then set about binding the baby to her back to free up her hands.

‘Alright,’ Mira said as she helped Delphine get Ilya settled against her chest. ‘We’re a few minutes ahead of them. This room is the antechamber to a bolthole leading down into the throne room, but I don’t know if they know about it.’

‘Then we’d best hurry.’

Mira nodded. ‘This way,’ she said. At the far end of the chamber another hidden door opened with a soft
click
, swinging smoothly open to reveal a dark staircase. Mira crept down it, step by careful step. At the foot, she pointed at Delphine’s mage-light and she snuffed it out.

‘Wait while I check the spyhole,’ Mira breathed in the darkness, and with a slither of smooth wood, a faint shaft of light reached in from the chamber beyond.

Mira sprung the catch, and slipped out into the throne room. Delphine caught her arm as she fumbled in her satchel. She knew the stone she wanted as soon as her fingertips touched it: the camouflage enchantment.

Once the stone was activated, Delphine took stock of the carnage in the room. A dozen or so dead men were heaped on the floor like so much rubbish.

It seemed the guards had tried to make a stand in a corner of the throne room. They’d died for her family, Delphine realised. After surviving the war with Akhara, the long march south as slaves, and the slow journey home, they’d died here back in their motherland. Ordinary men couldn’t stand against mages, but they’d still done what they could to protect their king and his kin.

Mira crouched beside one of the bodies and pulled the scabbard of his sword out of his sash. His sword was still loosely clutched in his slack fingers, and Mira gently prised them open as his dead eyes stared into the darkness. She returned the blade to its sheath and slipped it into her own sash, and then picked up a knife as well. ‘Do you know how to use a sword?’

‘No. Do you?’

‘Well, I’m not equal to Cam or Ardamon, but I’ve had training. A pole-arm would be better, but I’ll take what I can get. Here, have this.’ She pulled a second knife from the belt of another dead man, and passed it to her. ‘Now what?’

Delphine reached into her satchel. ‘The enchantment should get us close. I have some blasting-stones. Once we’re near, I’ll throw them and we run. I’ll shield our backs.’

Mira nodded. ‘Alright, let’s go.’

Delphine drew a deep breath in a vain attempt to calm herself, and crept forward.

There were six guards at the entrance, looking bored and cold as they huddled around a brazier. The wide doors were open, but Delphine knew that the mage-lights and the glowing coals meant they would see little of the dark grounds beyond.

She paused near the doorway, waiting for a moment when all the guards were looking away, but after only a few careful breaths, Mira poked her in the ribs.
We can’t linger,
she breathed.

Delphine bit her lip. She was right, they had to move.

She stepped through the doorway, praying that Illiana wouldn’t choose this moment to gurgle or wail. Or truly, what did it matter? The only way out was past the knot of men. Sooner or later, they’d have to force the issue.

The blasting-stones prickled at her fingertips, numbing her nerves. She held them nestled in her left hand with one in her right, ready to throw, all the while creeping closer, closer …

One of the men turned her way, frowning. His gaze glossed over the spot where they stood, but then he did a double-take that was comical in its surprise. ‘By all the demons,’ he spat, and levelled a finger towards them, ‘what in the hells is that?’

The camouflage was near-perfect, as long as one was standing quite still against a homogeneous background. But when the bearer moved, the enchantment could do some truly crazy things with whatever textures or lines it picked up.

Mira dug her fingers into Delphine’s back. ‘Now!’ she hissed.

The stone was already leaving her fingertips. By chance it hit the brazier, striking the metal bowl holding the coals with a faint, musical
ping
! Then, the stone exploded with a force that made the whole brazier leap into the air and tear itself apart in a shower of coals and fragments of hot metal.

Delphine followed it with a second as the mages recoiled from the showering coals, casting shields to protect themselves. The second stone bounced off them and burst in a blinding flash.

‘Run!’ Mira hissed, and sprinted for the door. Delphine ran after her, keeping one arm wrapped tightly around Illiana.

Mira ducked and wove through the knot of men, darting briefly beyond the reach of Delphine’s shield — for a moment she became visible in a flash of red hair. One of the Akharians cursed and lowered his shield to snatch at her, but Delphine had another stone in her hand and hurled it at his head. He caught the movement from the corner of his eye and snapped the shield up again — but it rose an instant too late, catching the stone
inside
the protective veil.

It struck him just above his ear and exploded in a puff of red mist. The shield winked out, and the man collapsed, suddenly limp. The sight blazed across Delphine’s vision — it took her a long moment to realise the body had no head.

Then Mira gave a wordless yell of challenge. Two men were closing in on her, shielded and crouched low, ready to tackle her. The others were already shaking off the surprise and seemed unconcerned by the loss of one man. As they fanned out to surround Mira, Eshta strapped to her back, and the blurred void that was Delphine, one of them stepped over the headless corpse with less concern than he’d step over the twisted remains of the brazier.

Time for the backup plan.
Delphine reached for another stone. This one, she activated in her hand — it sent a percussive shock through her arm, as though she’d punched a wall — and then hurled it down at Mira’s feet.

The guards’ shields flickered like guttering candles and went out, snuffed by the enchantment at Mira’s feet.

Delphine felt the camouflage stone throb against her belly, growing suddenly hot as the power within it warred with the new stone. Hastily, she dug it out, and then had to drop it right away as it scorched her fingertips.

The guards faltered as their power died back, and Mira seized her chance. She drew the sword and slashed the nearest man across the belly, slicing through coat, clothing and flesh. She turned to the other, feinting with a quick lunge towards his face, and as he raised his hands she dropped the blade low, slashing from his hip up across his ribs. With a step forward, she ran him through and whipped the blade out again. She turned back to the first man — he’d collapsed clutching at spilled intestines steaming in the cold night air.

Then, a hand fell on Delphine’s shoulder.

Her first instinct was to cast a shield, but her power no more answered her call than that of the enemy mages had answered theirs. The stone she’d cast down was a variant on the suppression stone that she’d developed in the last few days. Unlike the stone she’d been forced to swallow, which worked on physical contact, this stone gave off a suppression field, blocking out all power within a certain distance. She’d had little time to test it, but she was willing to bet it wouldn’t last long. The enchantment was burning through a great deal of power, and in all honesty it hadn’t been particularly stable in the first place …

As the hand grabbed her shoulder and spun her around, Delphine snatched the knife from her belt. She tried to slash him across the face, but he was ready for her and he threw up an arm to block. Instead of striking his cheek, the blade skidded down along his forearm, scoring the thick hide of his coat.

He slapped her hand aside and seized her wrist, skimming down to grasp her hand and squeezing with brutal force, crushing it around the hilt of the knife. With a yelp, Delphine tried to pull away — and like a fool, she tried once again to reach for her power, only to feel it drain away like water through a net — but he simply yanked her towards him. From the corner of her eye, she glimpsed Mira, facing off against the last two men circling around her, but the main part of her vision was focused on the raised fist of her attacker.

Then, with a swift flutter of air, an arrow sprouted from the man’s face. He bellowed and his fist swung, but it faltered, drifting from its course, and when Delphine raised her free hand to block it, it simply slipped aside. The man dropped to his knees, clawing at the arrow sunk into his cheek.

Another arrow followed, striking square into the centre of his forehead. His strangled bellow died away, and with wide, vacant eyes, he toppled over sideways to the churned snow.

From nearby there came a whoop of triumph, and a number of dark shapes came loping out of the shadows within the fortress grounds.

They were boys … no, she corrected herself, young men, men who’d just launched their first skirmish, men who’d just rescued their queen. There were half a dozen of them charging out of the darkness, wrapped in winter whites. Each had a bow, two with arrows nocked and half-drawn, while the others had slung them across their backs, with knives or hatchets in their hands instead. She’d come face-to-face with them once before, in the basement of the palace.

They swarmed on the two men still facing Mira. The one at her back took an arrow in the ribs before two more lads fell on him, and then a blow from a hatchet finished him.

The other one took an arrow in the thigh, but as the lads closed in on him, Mira shouted, ‘Stop! Take him alive.’

The nearest of the lads gave her a swift salute and then the six of them piled onto the man. He was tall for an Akharian, and heavier and stronger than any of these lads, but with six against one, he never stood a chance.

Mira swept her hair back from her face and scowled down at the stone. It lay in a pool of snowmelt, the water around it bubbling and steaming, giving off the occasional spark, smelling of thunderstorms. ‘Delphi, can you keep him contained?’

‘I … I don’t have any suppression stones, but I can make one in a few minutes.’

‘No time, they’ll be coming after us.’ She turned to the lads. ‘Just knock him over the head.’

One of the lads thoughtfully hefted his hatchet, and then rapped the Akharian’s skull with the butt of it.

‘Good. Pick him up, we need to get away from the doors,’ Mira said, glancing around warily with her sword still in her hand.

The lads hefted him up with one on each limb, while a fifth lifted his head by a handful of hair to peer at his face. The butt of the hatchet had split his scalp and a steady patter of blood dripped to the snow. The lad pulled the hood of his coat up to catch the drips.