Scholar of Decay (31 page)

The scrape of steel on stone jerked him out of pleasant memories—his Natalia waiting for him when he emerged from long hours of study, with a smile and meal and strong hands to work the tension from his shoulders—and back to the grim reality of the catacombs. The goblin sign he’d noted on his previous visit quite likely explained the sounds he heard, but analysis indicated that this part of the catacombs had to be on the outermost edge of their territory. Two or three sentries were the most he could expect to run into. He wasn’t particularly worried. While goblins weren’t very bright, neither were they very brave, and his trio of wizard lights made clear the power they’d be dealing with should they attack.

In fact, as goblins were predominantly subterranean creatures, the light alone should be enough to keep them away.

Then he realized the sounds were flanking him.

He stopped and listened, a hand braced against the damp stone to steady himself. Another scrape of steel on stone before him, as though a weapon brushed against the curving wall, and the creak of leather armor behind. They were close enough that, had the catacombs themselves not smelled so foul, he very likely could’ve caught a distinctive whiff of goblin.

Just at the edge of his light, he could see the break in the ledge—the place where the stone had crumbled and the murky water lapped hungrily against the wall. A shadow lurked on the far side. Aurek saw no glint of light on weapons, but then goblins weren’t known for spit and polish. Jaw set, he readied a spell. The one behind him he could ignore, but the one in front stood between him and the workshop, thus between him and the spellbook, and he had no intention of allowing Natalia’s freedom to be delayed.

At the edge of the break he paused and, to his astonishment, the goblin stepped forward to the opposite edge. Yellow eyes squinted
nearly shut in a dull orange face, the creature lifted its stained morning star and barked an obvious challenge.

Aurek stared at it in disbelief. Although goblins were not his area of expertise, this one seemed to be acting distinctly odd. He had no way of telling exactly how old it was, but it seemed young. And large. If goblins were usually under four feet, this one stood considerably above average.

As the creature repeated its challenge, tone blatantly mocking, Aurek chewed at the puzzle.

Goblins lived in a tribal society, the strongest ruling the rest. In order for a young goblin male to challenge the chief, it had to fight a number of smaller battles and establish itself in the pecking order. If a young, strong goblin wanted to skip a few fights on its way to the top, one way would be to challenge and defeat an enemy considered unbeatable.

Like a wizard crossing the perimeter of the territory.

Of course, Aurek thought, it would’ve made a lot more sense had it attacked me on my way out the last time. He didn’t remember much of his trip back to the river, but he doubted he could’ve defended himself against strong language, let alone a determined goblin. But then, he’d already established that the creatures were not very smart. The sentries had probably reported his presence, and his young challenger had been hanging around ever since, hoping he’d return.

Aurek raised his hands, thumbs together, and spread his fingers.

The sheet of flame not only ignited the goblin but swept it off the ledge and into the water. With a sizzle and a cloud of putrid steam, the fire went out. Its face and hands a mass of cracking blisters, the goblin bobbed to the surface, screamed once, and disappeared.

Nothing living sank that fast on its own.

Aurek tried to back up and found his shoulder blades already pressed hard against the wall—which was when the second goblin shoved a spear handle between his legs and tipped him off the ledge.

It seemed to take him forever to hit the water, and then it wrapped around him like a liquid shroud, surprisingly warm. Fighting panic, he let himself sink, shoving his left hand into his pocket, ignoring the pain when his injured finger caught on wet fabric. He wasn’t a fighter. He had only one chance.

GET OUT OF THE WATER! The words echoed against the inside of his skull. He couldn’t die. Not here. Not so close to redemption, so close to freeing his Natalia! He would not fail her again!

Whatever was in the water seemed momentarily preoccupied with the goblin. Aurek thanked the gods for that moment. His lungs began to burn. He sank lower. Began, finally, to rise. Kicked toward the surface now that he knew where it was. Felt something long and sinuous brush against him. Again. Finally shoved his thumb through the leather loop.

It was an easy spell, one he used frequently. Why couldn’t he remember it now?

The top of his head broke the surface.

Something wrapped around his leg.

He shot upward. His head, shoulders, chest …

The thing was obviously unused to meals that pulled back.

 … hips, legs …

Still fighting to hold his focus, Aurek looked down. Two loops of gray-green tentacle were wrapped around his right ankle. The spell pulled him in one direction; then muscles bunched under mucus-covered skin, and the tentacle pulled in the other. Aurek’s knee popped, but he managed to hold on to his concentration. I will not fail her again!

The air became the deciding factor. Whatever the tentacle was attached to, it seemed to lose much of its elasticity out of the water. When it could stretch no farther, it let go. Aurek snapped upward and cracked his head against the arched ceiling. Stars exploding behind his eyes, he momentarily lost control of the spell, dropping down nearly his own body length before he managed to rise again.

Close to six feet of tentacle whipped back and forth in the air and, though it might have been the bump on the head causing him to imagine things, Aurek thought it seemed confused as it slipped back beneath the murky surface of the water. He doubted that its prey had ever left the water in such a way before—or that its prey had ever left the water at all.

Not until he was safely back on the ledge, eyes burning, nose running, gasping for breath, did he remember the second goblin. It seemed to be nowhere around.

It might have decided it won the moment Aurek hit the water.

It might have taken one look at that tentacle and run for its life.

Aurek didn’t care. Leaning heavily against the wall, he staggered to the landing in front of the workshop and took a quick inventory. There was a goose egg rising on the crown of his head, but the skin hadn’t broken and, as near as he could tell, his skull hadn’t cracked. His right knee and ankle throbbed but appeared to have taken no serious damage. The scab had come off the injured nail bed on his left hand, and he’d have to assume the area was infected. Fortunately, the water seemed not to have soaked through his clothing and the bandages on his back, though the wounds were throbbing in time to his heartbeat. He’d best have Edik clean those wounds again as well. His nose continued to run, and his beard stank, but against all odds, he was alive.

He made it to the stairs before his legs gave out, and he collapsed, shaking, onto the third step. He was alive. But it had been very, very close.

“I’ll tell you one thing, Natalia,” he murmured when the reaction seemed to have finally run its course, “I’m taking that book out of here and back to my own study to work on it. I can’t go through this every time I need to use it.”

All at once, he realized why Edik had thought Dmitri might prove useful to him. While the boy wasn’t very bright, he was undeniably athletic. This was exactly the kind of leaping about he’d enjoy. “More fool him.” For a brief moment, Aurek considered sharing the burden he carried. Then he tossed the thought aside. The fault was his; the burden was his. His alone.

Drawing in a long breath, no longer able to smell either himself or the catacombs, he got slowly to his feet and limped up the stairs. There seemed to be more of them than there’d been before. By the time he reached the top step, he was breathing as heavily as if he’d climbed a mountain.

“Too much time spent with books,” he gasped, leaning forward with both hands on his knees. “Too much time at a desk.” When he straightened, he frowned.

The shielding remained in place behind the carved archway, but something had changed. It took him a long moment to realize what it was. No power leaked through the shield spell. He began to stiffen; then, all at once, his shoulders sagged, and he shook his head in relief.

Of course there’s no power leakage, you fool. The bone golem’s been destroyed, and it was the only active spell running. Rolling his eyes at his willingness to immediately believe the worst, he stepped through the shield.

There was nothing left but ash.

No table. No shelves. No chair. No book.

Everything had been destroyed.

He felt as though he were looking at the room from a very long way away, insulated by the enormity of the loss. He swayed, looked down, and saw the goblin footprints patterned in the ash.

“I did this.”

His voice echoed in the empty space.

“I destroyed the guardian. I opened the way.”

The weight of that realization settled on his shoulders and drove him to his knees. He had little control over the motion and no control at all over the scream of denial when it finally broke loose.

As his pain bounced off the stone, the dead wizard’s delight bounced about within his skull, the mocking laughter chipping pieces from his sanity with every pass.

“… Touched It, and He Jumped Away. Then He Fell
down, and he changed, and he started, well, running.”

Louise lifted an ebony brow, distinctly unimpressed by the stammered story. “Running? I thought you said you left Lucien’s body in the study. He couldn’t have run far.”

“He wasn’t really running.” Jean paced jerkily back and forth across the room, his face twitching as though it wore the whiskers that went with his other form. “He was lying there, thrashing, but his legs were moving as if he were running. You know, the way they move when you’re dreaming.”

“Yes. I know.” More significantly, she was beginning to understand what must have happened to poor, unfortunate Lucien. She’d expected traps, which was why she hadn’t gone personally. Obviously, there’d been a trap set on the figurine itself. Triggered by touch, the results seemed to indicate that it threw the intruder—in this case Lucien—back into his own head and killed him there. Certainly not beyond the powers of a man who’d defeated a bone golem.

Wrapping a curl around one finger, Louise decided Jean would have to remain ignorant of her theory. He’d likely be quite angry
if he ever found out that she’d known that Aurek Nuikin was so powerful a wizard. “Then what happened?”

“Then he screamed, and I left.”

She sighed and shook her head. The family believed strongly in discretion over valor. “So you don’t actually know that he’s dead.”

“He’s dead.” Arms wrapped tightly around his body, Jean seemed to fold in on himself as he remembered his brother’s screams. “He has to be dead.”

“Well,” Louise murmured thoughtfully, “he certainly is by now. Those screams must’ve attracted some small amount of attention, and I doubt very much that whoever found him bundled him off to a healer.”

“The point is, he’s dead,” Jean growled. “Aurek Nuikin killed my brother.”

“Carelessness killed your brother,” Louise snapped, hearing the challenge and having no intention of allowing it to stand.

“It happened in Nuikin’s house, and he’s going to pay.”

As he stomped past her, she grabbed his arm and yanked him to a halt, her nails digging into the soft skin of his inner wrist. “Aurek Nuikin is mine. Don’t touch him.”

“I thought you claimed the other one.”

“They’re both mine.”

“No.” He shook his head, thin lips pulled back off yellow teeth. “You’ve claimed the younger one. You can’t have them both.”

Arguing would make him angry—Louise could see that in his eyes—and if he were angry enough, he might be willing to fight her for the right to kill Aurek Nuikin. She didn’t want to fight him. Fights within the family tended to leave scars on the winner as well as the loser—her free hand dropped to trace the silk that covered the twisted red lines gouged across her hip. Intimidation was infinitely more attractive, even though the words tasted of
gall and caught in her throat. “They’re both under Jacqueline’s protection.”

Her sister’s name had the desired effect: aggression became confusion. “But if she wants them, how can you have claimed them?”

“She doesn’t want to play with them, and I have no intention of hurting them.” At least not until what Jacqueline wanted was no longer a factor. Abruptly, she let him go.

Glaring at her sullenly, he licked at the small puncture wounds she’d made in his wrist. If Jacqueline was interested in the humans, then all other interests were subverted by hers. “Someone has to pay for my brother,” he whined. “Someone has to pay for Lucien’s life.”

“Are you suggesting I pay?” Snarling, lips pulled right off her teeth, Louise surged up off of the chaise and backhanded her cousin hard enough to knock him to the floor.

Jean scrambled to his feet, took one look at her expression, and ran.