The Fractured Sky (20 page)

Kashada smiled, then she laughed. “It’s much too late for that,” she said. Then she uttered the final phrase of her spell.

The purple-black shadows expanded from her body in

a great sphere. The dryads shrieked and tried to flee. One attempted to meld into the great branch upon which the tree-house had been constructed. Another dived toward an open window to escape. Most of the rest flailed and clamored to slip through the doorways. None were fast enough.

The blackness engulfed all of the dryads. Its boundary soared outward, catching each and every one of the elflike women in its embrace. They wailed and babbled in their odd, woodland language and staggered around, blind. Kashada laughed, for she could still see. The world had turned a beautiful, shadowy plum to her eyes.

One dryad shuffled toward Kashada, a small dagger in her hand. The dryad felt for the woman, and Kashada did nothing to evade her. When her hand brushed against Kashada’s arm, the dryad stabbed at her, trying to ram the dagger deep into the mystic’s flesh.

The blade struck shadowstuff and snapped.

The dryad wailed in dismay and fell away again.

The dryads thrashed and flailed as the arcane gloom did its work. Tendrils of the stuff wrapped around limbs, encircled waists, coiled around necks. It grappled with those trapped inside it, enveloping them with darker, firmer umbra.

Kashada laughed as the fey fought against the snaking tendrils. She smiled as the one who had tried to stab her clutched at her own throat, gasping for breath. Kashada walked among them, watching in delight as one by one the dryads’ struggles grew weaker, then stopped altogether. The shadowstuff continued to wind itself around them like black, gauzy funeral wrappings. Tighter and tighter it wove, until each dryad was nothing more than an oblong lump of black within the purple nightworld Kashada had created with her magic.

Finally, the spell finished its work and vanished, returning the surroundings to their original silvery hue and brightness. Kashada sighed. She had so enjoyed watching the transformation. It had been particularly satisfying to see the wretched fey succumb to her magic. She was only sorry there hadn’t been more of them to ensnare. All in all, though, she was content.

She spoke, then, in a language few would understand in the normal world. Her voice carried, ringing loudly and clearly to pierce the veils of shimmering shadow that still surrounded the dryads. “My pets,” she said, “I have a task for you. Others come along the path that I followed to arrive here. You will wait and watch for them, and when they appear, you will destroy them.”

Before she left, Kashada took up flint and steel and ignited a bit of tinder. She then lit an oil-soaked tag wrapped around one of her long-bladed daggers and walked among the tree houses, setting them ablaze. She fired the strange, silky ropes that made up the bridges and ladders. She looked back once and watched as the little dryad community became charred ruins.

Kaanyr sat cross-legged and stared at the ground. The sullen glare he had leveled at his two guards had done nothing to make him feel any better, so he gave it up. That and the fact that holding his head up while it was encased in so much iron exhausted him. The strange harness held a thick metal brank in place in his mouth, keeping his tongue flattened so that he had no way of speaking. Kaanyr’s jailors had locked the thing behind his head, where he could not see.

Even if he could study the security, it wouldn’t make a difference. Thick leather bags wrapped tightly around his hands kept them secure, as well. He sensed that he was clenching some sort of round object, like a ball, in each hand, which forced them into fists. He could barely move his fingers within the confines of the bags. To further restrain him, they had fastened metal manacles to his wrists, and those were locked to a metal belt that encircled his waist.

There was no way he was going to work the brank harness free, even if he could see the fastener.

Nor could he unlock the thick chain that held him fast, one end around his neck, the other around a large tree. His jailors were taking no chances.

The hound archons who had captured Kaanyr had said nothing to him. He came to from his blackout feeling woozy and disoriented. It took a few moments for him to remember where he was. By that time, the Warriors had subdued him with rope and threats of worse if he even tried to resist them. Other than that, they simply escorted him back to the clearing where the ambush had begun.

No one’s even asked me any questions, Vhok thought. Wasn’t that why they wanted to capture us so badly? To see what we know about Zasian?

Recalling the traitorous priest made Kaanyr scowl. The cambion still couldn’t decide at whom he was angrier. Though most of his woes could be traced back to Zasian’s underhanded manipulation, Kaanyr knew he was still responsible for setting the events in motion in the first place.

Aliisza was right, he thought glumly. I became so caught up in seizing Sundabar from Helm Dwarf-friend that I grew careless. But they’re still bastards. All of them. Zasian and Helm can rot in the Abyss. And Tauran and Kael. And Micus and Tyr. All of them! And you can toss that no-good alu in with them, too.

Kaanyr had spent the first part of his captivity anticipating a rescue from Aliisza, but as the time dragged by and it grew dark, he began to doubt that she would return for him. The logical part of him realized there was no way his lover could overwhelm an entire camp of astral devas and their hound archon minions. That would just get them both caught.

But damn it, I want her to try! I’m still supposed to matter to her, despite what happened here. It’s still her, isn’t it?

Kaanyr snorted then, an expression of resignation. Of course it’s still her. And she’s long gone by now. She and her two holier-than-thou fops have left me here to rot. Hells, I would have done the same thing to her.

“Good evening, Vhok,” an angel said as he approached the cambion. “I imagine you are hungry.” He was one of the two who had captured him earlier.

An archon stood behind the deva holding a tray of something that smelled delicious. He set it on the ground near Kaanyr as the angel squatted down next to the cambion.

“I want to take this brank harness off you, Vhok, but if I do, I have to have your vow that you will not speak, only eat. We can’t have you attempting to cast any spells. Do you understand?”

Kaanyr eyed the food, which consisted of a thick slice of roasted meat, a slab of cheese h hunk of bread, and some berries still on a snip of vine. The aroma of the meat and bread made his mouth water, but he hated giving in so easily to the wretched celestials. He looked away from the tray and back at the angel and made no gesture at all.

“If I don’t get your promise, I can’t let you eat,” the deva said. “I know you must be very angry right now, but there’s

no point in refusing our food. I have nothing personal against you, half-fiend—beside the obvious issue of your base nature, of course—but you have broken the laws of the Court, and I have a job to complete. Now, do you want to eat or not?”

Nothing personal indeed, Kaanyr thought. If I wasn’t wearing all this iron, I’d wipe that self-important grin off your face. He still made no effort to convey an answer.

“Very well,” the angel said, rising. “I’ll leave the food right over here and you can think about it.” He walked off then, followed by the archon who had brought the tray. Kaanyr watched the two of them go and sniffed loudly to express his disdain. His two guards paid no attention to him, so Kaanyr went back to studying the ground in front of him.

Though he tried to ignore it, the smell of the roasted meat haunted him, and when the angel returned a little while later, Kaanyr began to have second thoughts about his stoic resistance.

What difference does it make if I eat? he asked himself. It doesn’t change anything.

The angel paused. “Having a change of heart?” he asked. Kaanyr nodded, albeit reluctantly.

“Very well,” the angel said, smiling. “I have your promise that you won’t say anything if I remove the harness?” Again Kaanyr nodded.

“Good, good. Now, if you decide to break your vow, I’ll be forced to speak the divine word of power we used before to subdue you, and I really don’t want to have to do that. So please be agreeable.”

Kaanyr sighed in resignation and nodded a third time.

“Now,” the angel said as he reached around behind the cambion, “I’m going to have to feed this to you, because we just can’t risk freeing your hands.” Kaanyr could feel and hear

a click as the harness loosened. The deva pulled the vile metal from Kaanyr’s mouth. As he did so, the two guards went a little stiffer, warier, watching him.

The cambion ignored them as the angel held out the meat. Kaanyr eyed the beef, juicy and lean, but he hated having to be fed like a helpless child. He grimaced and hesitated.

“I know this must be demeaning, I really do,” the angel said in a sincere tone. “But this is the price you pay for your choices in life. Now, go ahead.”

There will be a price for you to pay, too, Kaanyr thought.

He leaned forward and grudgingly took a bite from the meat. It practically melted in his mouth, it was so lean and tender. The cambion began to tear huge bites from the well-seasoned beef, gulping it down. Bits of gravy and juice ran down his chin, but he didn’t care. In no time at all, he had finished the meat.

The angel grabbed up the cheese and the bread, holding one in each hand. Kaanyr no longer cared how shameful he looked. He tore into the food with a ravenous hunger.

How long has it been since I’ve had such a good meal? he asked himself. The spreads we had within the magical mansion, he realized. Too long.

The thought crossed his mind that the food might be poisoned in some way, but he dismissed that notion quickly.

If they wanted to slay me, they wouldn’t have gone to all the trouble to bind me in this manner. Besides, angels don’t do that sort of thing. Then the idea occurred to Kaanyr that they might not try to kill him but make him more compliant. A truth serum or suggestive magic, he realized. He stopped chewing as the cold thought washed over him. You’re a fool, Kaanyr Vhok.

“What is it?” the angel asked, puzzled. “Full already? Head movements only, please.”

Kaanyr wanted to spit the tainted food out, spit it right at the angel. Instead, he just grimaced.

“Don’t want to answer? Very well, if you’re done…” The angel replaced the remnants of the bread and cheese on the tray. “I guess we’ll save the rest of this for later, then.” He set the food aside and picked up the brank harness. “This has to go on, though, my friend. No arguments.”

Kaanyr glowered at the angel, but the threat of divine magic was real enough, so with an exasperated sigh, the cambion opened his mouth and allowed the hated thing to gag him once more. When the angel had secured it behind Kaanyr’s head, he stood.

“You cooperated very nicely, Vhok,” the deva said. “I’m sorry it has to be this way, I truly am. I will mention this to Micus when he returns. Maybe it will reflect favorably upon you when it comes time to bring you before the High Council. But that is not for me to promise.”

The angel turned to stride away, but at that moment, a commotion erupted from just behind Kaanyr.

The angel turned back that way and his eyes widened the slightest bit. “Micus,” he said, standing a bit straighter. “What news?”

“We have all three of them in custody,” Micus said, flying into view and settling to the ground. He looked down at Kaanyr. “They’re being taken back to the Court now. I want to take him there as soon as possible.”

The other angel looked confused. “But you said that we-—”

“I know what I said before! Things have changed! They tried to ambush us near the entrance to the World Tree.

They didn’t realize we knew they were there, so we were ready for them. 1 want to get them all back to the High Council, get this distasteful job finished as quickly as possible. Now, get him unchained so I can take him with me! Don’t bother with that gag, just get him free of the post.”

“Of course, Micus,” the other angel said. He reached down and began to fidget with the lock keeping the chain on Kaanyr’s neck. “Shall 1 send an escort with you?” he asked Micus as he unlocked the restraint. “Or do you have some other means of transporting him?”

“Is he still wearing the dimensional shackles?”

“He is,” the angel answered.

“Remove them,” Micus said.

The other angel paused. “You said we should not remove those shackles under any circumstances,” he said, suspicion plain on his face. “What is going on, Micus?”

“By Tyr, do I have to do everything myself?” Micus said in exasperation. He stalked toward Kaanyr and grabbed at the cambion’s wrists. “I said I wanted to move fast. Don’t you listen?”

“Don’t let him do that!” the other angel ordered. “That’s not Micus!”

Kaanyr gave the other deva an incredulous look, and then peered at Micus. The deva’s eyes were wide, looking fight at him. They had a familiar shape to them.

Aliisza!

Kaanyr thrust his shackled hands toward the disguised alu. Over her shoulder, he could see the two archons hesitating, unsure what to do.

Aliisza reached down and took hold of the clasps of the shackles and snapped them open. At the same time, the other angel lunged toward them, trying to grab hold of the false

Micus. When the shackles came free, the alu wrenched them from Kaanyr’s waist and let them drop to the ground. Then she kicked backward with one leg, catching the deva squarely in the chest. The force of the blow sent her forward, right into Kaanyr, and knocked him backward.

The cambion expected to crack his head upon the bole of the tree he had been chained to, but instead, he found himself falling through a magical portal. Both he and Aliisza tumbled through the doorway, but the two hound archons were a step too slow.

The portal winked out, leaving his guards and the angel behind.

“Hurry!” Aliisza hissed softly, scrambling to her feet. She shifted from the image of Micus back into her natural form as other hands struggled with the bonds that still held Kaanyr.