Return of the Sorceress (14 page)

Fryen sighed. “I know.”

“So what’s your problem?” Drefan demanded.

Fyren glanced at the door with a fearful expression, as if he thought the girl inside might come bursting out any moment. He lowered his voice to a whisper.

“What if she’s … you know …
changed.”

“Maddoc is a wizard,” Drefan said. “And despite his recent weakness, he still wears the black robes. Not only isn’t it my place to question what he does or why he does it, I know I’m likely to live a longer and happier life if I mind my own business.”

“A very sensible attitude.”

The three goblins froze as Maddoc came walking down the corridor toward them, holding a small lantern to illuminate his way.

Drefan’s red face turned a pale pink and he began to stammer. “My-my lord, I-I didn’t mean any dis-disrespect—”

Maddoc waved a hand to silence him and Drefan flinched, as if he thought the wizard intended to strike him down with a bolt of mystic energy.

“Has our guest been behaving herself?” Maddoc asked.

“Yes, my lord,” Drefan said. “She hasn’t made a sound.”

“We can attest to that!” Fyren added nervously. “We’ve been checking! Eight times this hour alone, or so Drefan tells us.”

Drefan glared at Fyren but said nothing.

Maddoc smiled. “Really? Eight times, you say? Then you must be quite weary after so much effort. It’s a good thing then that I’ve come to relieve you of your posts.”

Drefan frowned in confusion. “My lord?”

“There’s been an incident outside the walls of the keep. A section of ground has collapsed, creating a substantial pit. I’ve sent Oddvar to investigate, and I’d like you to join him.”

Drefan suppressed a sigh. So much for their cushy assignment.
“Of course, my lord. At once.”

“My lord?” Gifre suddenly asked. “Are you well?”

Maddoc frowned. “Why do you ask?”

Drefan motioned for Gifre to shut up, but the goblin ignored him. “It’s your eyes. They’re …”

“What?”

“Blue,” Gifre finished.

Maddoc chuckled. “They’ve always been blue.”

“Yes, but not like this. They’re
extremely
blue, and they almost seem to … well, to glow.”

“Oh, that. I’ve been preparing all day to cast a very demanding spell. What you notice is merely a side effect of those preparations.”

“Oh.” It was clear from the blank expression on Gifre’s face that he didn’t understand, but at least he didn’t say anything more about their master’s eyes.

“I apologize for the feeble-minded fool, my lord,” Drefan said. “We’ll be on our way now.”

But before any of the three goblins could move, Maddoc held up a hand, indicating they should pause a moment.

“First give me the key to this chamber.”

Drefan blinked. “Pardon, my lord?”

“The key.” Maddoc held out his hand palm up. “Give it to me.”

“But you already have a key,” Fyren said.

Maddoc gave the guard a scowl and his extra-blue eyes seemed to flash with an angry light.

“Since when do my guards make it a habit to question their master?”

Drefan swallowed and both Fyren and Gifre looked as if they might cry.

“If you must know,” Maddoc continued. “I left the key in my bed chamber and I do not feel like walking all the way back to
get it. Now give me the key or I’ll use the three of you as subjects for an extremely nasty mystical experiment.”

“Yes, my lord,” Drefan pulled a ring of keys from his tunic pocket and held it up. “Of course, my lord, our most sincere apologies, my lord, we—”

“Are beginning to annoy me to no end.” Maddoc snatched the key ring out of Drefan’s hand. “Well? What are you three waiting for? Go assist Oddvar!”

With quick bows, the goblins hurried down the corridor.

The being that held Drefan’s keys watched until the three were out of sight. Then its form shimmered and a moment later a dark-haired girl with intense blue eyes stood in place of the wizard. She selected the proper key and gently inserted it into the lock.

Nearra was wakened by the sound of the lock clicking open. The air in front of the door rippled for an instant, and she knew the wardspell had been deactivated.

It must be time, she thought. During the hours she’d been in the small, unlit cell, she had searched every nook and cranny, looking for some possible means of escape, but she’d found none. There was no window, and the ceiling, walls, and floor were all stone. The only object in the room was a wooden bed without a pallet. As it was marginally more comfortable than the floor, Nearra had lain down on it to consider her predicament, and she must’ve dozed off. She’d wasted her time in sleep, and now it was too late. Maddoc had come for her.

But when the door opened, it wasn’t the wizard who stood there holding a lantern. It was …

“Jirah!” Nearra leaped to her feet and ran to embrace her younger sister.

Jirah held the lantern at arm’s length so she wouldn’t get burned and laughed as her sister hugged her.

Nearra released Jirah and took a step back. The younger girl looked exactly as she had in the dreamlike vision Nearra had experienced in the chamber with the blank paintings. It was as if her sister hadn’t aged a day.

“Your eyes,” Nearra said. “They’re such a bright shade of blue.”

Jirah smiled. “So? My eyes are blue, silly.”

Nearra struggled to remember.

Jirah continued to smile as Nearra looked at her questioningly.

Nearra shook her head. “Never mind. What are you doing here?”

She grinned. “I’m happy to see you, too, Sister.” She held up a hand before Nearra could apologize. “Don’t worry, I understand. You must have many questions. Close to a year ago Father and I brought a wagonload of wood to Cairngorn Keep. We expected you to come greet us, as you usually did. But that day you did not. When you again failed to greet us during our next two deliveries, Father, Mother, and I became suspicious. We knew we couldn’t confront Maddoc and demand to know if you were all right, so I hired on as one of the wizard’s servants in the hope that I could see you or, failing that, if I could at least find out what had happened to you. It took me a long time to put together all the bits and pieces of information I learned. From what I understand, you are host to the spirit of an ancient sorceress called Asvoria.”

“It’s true,” Nearra confirmed. “Though Paladine knows I wish it wasn’t.”

Jirah nodded. “And the sorceress can see what you see and hear what you hear?”

“Yes, I believe so.”

Jirah’s eyes narrowed and a corner of her mouth rose upward in what seemed to Nearra to be a sly half smile.

“How did you get the key to the cell?” Nearra asked. “And how did you manage to get past the guards?”

“I stole the key ring when Maddoc left it lying on a table in his study,” Jirah said. “As for the guards, it was a simple matter to trick them. But that’s not important now. We need to get you out of here.”

Nearra felt new hope rising within her. “Can you really help me escape?”

“During my stay here, I’ve explored a great deal of the keep,” Jirah said. “At times, it almost feels as if it is the only home I’ve ever known. I’ve discovered a series of hidden passageways within the keep that I believe not even Maddoc knows about. These passageways lead down to a network of caves and tunnels that run beneath the keep and beyond. I believe that we can use them to get you out of here.”

Nearra didn’t like the idea of traveling underground—she and her friends had done too much of it over the last few months. But then, this was Jirah, her little sister. If she couldn’t trust her, who could she trust?

She linked her arm with her sister’s. “All right. Let’s go before Maddoc discovers what we’re up to.” Despite the fact that they were still in Cairngorn Keep and still very much in danger, Nearra couldn’t help laughing as they headed arm in arm for the open doorway.

“It seems like old times, doesn’t it?” she said. “You and me, going off on our own to get into mischief.”

Jirah smiled. “Old times indeed.”

It was strange, but for an instant Nearra had the impression that Jirah wasn’t speaking to her. But then they were through the doorway and into the hall. Jirah closed the door behind them and locked it. The air rippled as the wardspell reactivated, and then they began heading down the corridor, toward freedom.

    F
or a wizard, Maddoc can be awfully stupid at times, Oddvar thought.

The dwarf stood at the edge of the newly created pit. The three goblin mercenaries stood behind him nervously. The sun was on the verge of setting, and the light was dim enough that Oddvar could wear his hood down.

“Maybe we should take a few steps back from the edge,” Drefan said.

“Say perhaps two or three hundred,” Gifre added.

“There’s nothing to worry about,” Oddvar said. “The ground is stable enough here. We’re in no immediate danger of falling in.”

“Um, not to question your judgment,” Drefan said, “but how can you tell?”

Oddvar fixed the goblin leader with a hard stare. “I am Theiwar,” he said, as if that were the only explanation anyone could need.

“We know that,” Fyren said. “What does that have to do with us standing way too close to the edge of this great big hole?”

Oddvar sighed. “My people live beneath the ground. We understand the ways of earth and stone.” The goblins wore expressions
that were blanker than usual. “It means I can tell where it’s safe to stand.”

“Oh!” Drefan said, understanding at last bringing a smile to his face.

Oddvar turned his back on the trio and examined the pit once more. He recalled when the tunnel here had first shown signs of collapse—when Davyn and that centaur were playing around and happened to stand in the wrong place at the wrong time. Neither had been hurt, but Maddoc had been determined to discourage them from playing near the opening they’d created. But a simple warning hadn’t been enough for the mage, oh no. He’d had to levitate a boulder from one place or another and use it to plug up the hole. Oddvar had tried to explain to his master why placing several tons of rock on top of unstable ground wasn’t the wisest decision Maddoc had ever made, but the wizard wasn’t one to entertain suggestions from subordinates, and he’d ignored the Theiwar’s advice.

And here was the result: a pit sixty feet in circumference and thirty feet deep. No tunnel opening was visible at either end of the pit. There was too much rubble. If they were lucky, this would be the full extent of the damage. If not, it was possible that the entire cave system running beneath the keep and the surrounding land had been seriously destabilized. And if that were the case, Cairngorn Keep itself might well come tumbling down like a tower made of children’s blocks.

“Do you think
they
caused this?” Drefan asked.

“Davyn and his friends? Yes, I do. It’s too much of a coincidence that this should happen so soon after the girl’s capture—and the hounds were attacking intruders when the collapse took place. We need to find out if those intruders were killed in the collapse or if they managed to survive and are even now making their way toward the keep.”

“And how are we going to do that?” Drefan asked.

Oddvar grinned and gestured toward the rubble that filled the bottom of the pit.

“Start digging,” he said.