The Hollow Crown: A Novel of Crosspointe (18 page)

“Come on,” he said, standing up. “It’ll be dawn soon. Now is the best time. Most everyone should be asleep.” His knees sagged and Ellyn caught him around the waist. He leaned against her until his legs firmed and then he drew away. There were memories in that touch that felt like rusty spikes through his chest.

They returned to town the way they’d come. The sky had begun to clear and the moon was a sliver hanging between the shreds of clouds. As he expected, the town had quieted down. As he might have expected from the military domination of the town, there were no beggars huddled in doorways or alleys and no drunkards lying facedown in their own puke.

They stepped inside the courtyard of the brothel. Fighting his shaking hands and the black vise squeezing his body, Keros pulled out his
illidre
. He looked at Ellyn. “Stand back, over there.” He pointed across the street.

She stared into his eyes a long moment and he could see his reflection in hers. His glowed bright green. He thought there might have been a yellow shine to hers, but he wasn’t certain. She shook her head. “You’re about to fall down. I’m staying right here.”

His jaw clenched with the struggle to stay focused. He was beginning to feel fuzzy and confused. The one solid thing in his mind was the need to place the spells. “If this goes badly, I’ll kill you and I won’t be able to stop myself. Stand back and you’ll have a cracking chance.” When she still hesitated, he shoved her. “You’ve got a duty to Azaire, don’t you? Don’t risk yourself.”

Finally she nodded and backed away. He waited until he thought she was far enough, then turned to face the door. This was the easy part. Except he didn’t know how much more majick he could use until the thing in his head chewed through his sanity. It was strong—his arms and legs twitched with strange urges to go somewhere, to do something. He didn’t know where or what. His vision blurred in and out with flashes of blindness. Not much time.

He dipped inside his
illidre
. The spell waited. Reaching down again into the earth, he siphoned majick up inside him. The thing in his head quivered and it felt like teeth bit sharply into the side of his head. His right arm and half his chest went numb. He quickly poured majick into the spell, lending it life. Slowly he pulled it from his
illidre
, leaving behind a duplicate. Now that the spell was made, he could copy it infinitely; it had become one of his stored building blocks. It sat in his fingers like a ball. Lifting it to his lips, he blew it, just as he had with his attack on Weverton. He put all his intent into that sharp breath. It floated away, growing and spreading in the air until it caught on the doorjamb, covering it like a spiderweb. It clung there and faded, disappearing from sight.

Keros drew a heavy breath. One down, two to go. An arm wrapped his waist again. He look into Ellyn’s scowling face. “I could be insane,” he reprimanded her. “You have to stay away.”

“Crack that,” she said. “I’m hear to help.”

She pulled him out of the courtyard and down the street, pushing him down on the edge of a wooden sidewalk in front of a chandler. She squatted down before him, reaching for her
illidre
. He shook his head.

“No. You mustn’t waste majick on me. The thing—” He waved the fingers of his left hand near his ear. His right was still numb. “It feeds on it. The more you use, the more it grows.”

“The thing?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Something is inside of me. It . . . I don’t know what it is. But it’s there and it’s getting bigger. I can’t quite see you,” he said, squinting through the blur. “My right arm is numb. I can’t move it.”

She shook her head. “You should have stopped.”

“I’ve got two more brothels to go.”

“They’ll just get healers. It won’t make a difference,” she said.

“They won’t heal from this,” he said with malevolent satisfaction.

“Why not?”

“It is not poison and it is not disease. It is revenge and it is tied to their souls. They’ll be dead before a healer understands the spell.”

He became aware of her hand on his chest where it was numb. Green vines curled around him and he tried to wrench away. He only fell over on his side, his face pressed against the wet wood of the sidewalk. “Don’t,” he said, but Ellyn only moved up kneel beside him, her face set.

“I’ll do whatever I damned well please,” she said. “I’m not letting you leave me again.”

He stared. “I didn’t leave you.”

“I saw you,” she said, her lips stiff as wood. “I saw you.”

“I thought you were gone. I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t stand any of it.”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter now. It’s ancient history.”

“Then stop trying to heal me. There’s no good purpose for it. You can’t help me and it will only make you insane.”

“Margaret will skin me alive if anything happens to you. I need her. She’s my key to meeting with Prelate Ryland and Prince Vaughn. It’s what I’m here to do.”

“It’ll do you no good if you go mad. Stop.” He wrenched himself backward, rolling away from her. The green vines snapped and slithered away. He sat up. His arm was no longer numb and he felt stronger. “Don’t be stupid,” he told her, clambering onto his hands and knees and then to his feet. “Let’s finish this.”

They found the second brothel near where they’d entered Molford. Keros repeated the placing of the spell, and though the healing Ellyn had given him had lent strength to his body, the thing inside him continued to swell and delve deeper. He could see out of only one eye now and could hardly feel his body. Only the drive of his rage kept him moving as he wanted. When he finished . . . he doubted he would be himself any longer.

The last brothel was halfway to Molford manor. It was a larger affair, and just as new as the first one. No doubt it served the regent when he was here as well as his guests and senior officers. The low iron gates were closed and latched. It didn’t matter. Keros leaned against the brick gatepost and blew the spell to the doors, watching it settle with satisfaction. If he was right, then the regent would find himself stricken. “The sooner the better,” he muttered before turning away.

They started back toward the inn. The eastern sky was turning pink and orange as the sun started to rise. Keros didn’t fight the arm that Ellyn thrust around him. His thoughts shifted and swirled like sand stirred up in water. He faintly heard a noise, but couldn’t sort out what it might be. Ellyn shoved against him, pushing him off the side of the road into the ditch. They fell, splashing into the foot-deep water. Keros lay on top of the woman—
who was she?
—unable to understand her words. At last she slugged him in the shoulder and squirmed out from beneath him, lying on the bank as the rumbling approached closer.

He crawled up beside her, his head reeling, his muscles twitching and jerking. “What?” he said stupidly. Sounds rang in his ears, and everywhere he looked, the world melted together. Something was wrong. He reached for majick and it came to him, filling him with crackling, hot energy. His vision twisted and shadows leaped up malevolently around him. His heart pounded and he swung whips of crackling energy at them.

The woman banged his head with her fist and the majick fled away as he—Where was he? Who was she? What was happening? A hand pressed against his mouth and she lay across his back, pressing him down. “Quiet.”

A carriage rolled into view. It was large and pulled by four horses slathered in mud. A squad of ten Blackwatch rode on horses before and after. The company clattered by, heading toward the manor. He saw them clearly for a single moment, then felt something stab through his head.

“The regent,” the woman muttered nonsensically, then climbed quickly to her feet. “Hurry. We have to tell the others.”

He staggered up, his gaze fixed on the retreating coach. He hated that coach. He couldn’t remember why. He lifted a hand as if to cast a spell. She caught his arm, yanking him around. Majick crackled around and he tried to pull away. He didn’t want to hurt her. He knew that.

“Keros! Come with me. Come with me now,” she ordered sharply.

She grabbed his hand and dragged him back toward Molford. He followed, turning to look over his shoulder one last time. Pinpricks wrapped his skull and his mouth tasted like brine. He wondered who he was.

It was several turns of the glass before Nicholas could convince Margaret to go to bed. “You’re exhausted and you can do nothing until they get back. Better to get your rest while you can.”

She’d risen and withdrawn into the bedchamber, shutting the door firmly behind herself. Nicholas had lain on the chaise and dozed. Every time he started to sleep, he was tormented with visions of Carston. His son was a sweet child, trusting and innocent. Nicholas dragged his fingers through his hair. He was going to make Geoffrey pay for this. Painfully.

He was on his feet the moment he heard the light knock at the door. He turned the lock and swung it open. Ellyn led in Keros. He was gray. He shuffled inside, his body awkward and clumsy. Nicholas drew back as he met the majicar’s eyes. There was a bright green shine in them that reminded Nicholas of the reflection of firelight in a mad dog’s eyes.

Ellyn led Keros to a chair and pushed him down into it. Just then, Margaret opened the door of the bedchamber. Her hair was tousled and eyes were sunken and hollow. She saw Keros and hurried to his side.

“What happened? Where have you been?”

“I couldn’t stop him,” Ellyn said and then coughed.

Nicholas handed her a cup of water and noticed a yellow shine softly glossing her eyes. Fear prickled down his neck as he recalled the story of the insane majicars Keros had fought in Sylmont. She gulped the water down and then dropped down on a chair. “I couldn’t stop him, so I helped him. We made a spell and set it at each of the brothels.” She shook her head as if to clear it. “The regent is here.”

“What?” Margaret exclaimed, whirling to look at Ellyn. “Are you sure?”

Ellyn only nodded and drank more water. Margaret looked at Nicholas as if asking for help. He started to reach out to comfort her but stopped himself. There was nothing he could say. He looked at the wasted majicar.

“Let’s see about him first. Then we’ll come up with a plan for Geoffrey.”

Margaret hesitated, then nodded. She turned back to Keros and grasped his face between her palms. “What have you done?” she whispered.

He blinked at her slowly. “Who are you?” he asked. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Then a spasm rippled down his body and he convulsed. His feet thumped against the floor and his body twisted and wrenched from side to side. He bit his lips and blood ran down his chin and flecked his cheeks. Nicholas snatched a wooden spoon from the table and shoved it between Keros’s teeth to keep him from biting his tongue in half.

Majick streaked beneath Keros’s skin like forked lightning. Nicholas yanked Margaret away, holding her by her arms as she fought him. “No. It’s too dangerous,” he told her grimly.

Ellyn stood, holding her
illidre
in one hand and setting her hand on Keros’s shoulder. She rocked back on her heels and majick raced up her arm. Green vines sprouted from her hand and nosed across Keros. The majick sizzling through him reacted violently. It rose in a whirling cloud of metal thorns. They spiraled in the air, expanding like a cloud of angry wasps. Nicholas shoved Margaret down behind a chair, covering her with his body.

She struggled. “Let me up!”

She was strong and knew how to fight. She elbowed him in the ribs and thrust herself sideways. He fell on top of her and she put her hands flat against his chest, shoving as she twisted. Both of them were hampered by their long dressing gowns, Margaret more so because hers was so big. Nicholas clamped his legs around hers and gripped her hands. His greater strength and weight kept her still.

“Stop. You can’t help him now. You’ll only get hurt.”

“Get off me, you cracking bastard,” she said, arching her back and bucking her hips, trying to get enough leverage to free herself.

“No. It serves neither of us.” She went still, her body rigid in his arms. He became aware how intimate their position was and that only their dressing gowns separated their naked bodies. He pulled back, easing his hold. “You aren’t going to do anything stupid, are you?”

“I’m fairly certain I already have,” she said, glowering at him. “Let me up.”

He rolled off her, keeping one hand on her shoulder. He didn’t trust that she wouldn’t rush out from behind the protection of the chair. He didn’t have to worry. Shock held them both frozen in place.

The spinning majick from Keros had coalesced around both majicars. Blood ran from a hashing of slices on Ellyn. Her clothing was tattered and wet with more blood. Her eyes gleamed bright yellow now. But she hadn’t moved. Her hand was still pressed to Keros’s chest. Green vines writhed about the majicar’s body so that Nicholas could hardly see him.

Margaret sucked in a sharp breath. “They’ll kill each other.”

“She’s trying to heal him.”

“The battle that Keros stopped in the Riddles—it could have started as a healing.”

His hand tightened reassuringly. “Don’t borrow trouble.”

“You saw his eyes. And he didn’t know who I was.” Her expression tightened and for the first time since their journey began, Nicholas could read fear on her face.

“He knew enough to know he didn’t want to hurt you. He’ll be all right,” he said without any conviction at all.

They both watched, helpless to do anything else. Then suddenly something changed. Margaret clutched Nicholas’s arm. “Do you see that?”

“It’s stopping,” he said. The silvery white ball of Keros’s majick had indeed begun to slow. As it did, its sharp, protruding spines began to soften and melt. Soon it turned into a shapeless blob and settled down to lay like a mantle over the mass of Ellyn’s healing vines.