A Crucible of Souls (Book One of the Sorcery Ascendant Sequence) (55 page)

“
Stay here,
”
Simmon ordered the men.
“
Stop the bleeding and wait for us. If you feel well enough to assist, follow us when you can.
”

Despite their shocked state, all three nodded. One fingered a hole in his pants. His finger came out red.

Another reverberation shook the air, this one from the front of the building. Simmon turned to Caldan and nodded, obviously sensing he was also holding onto his well and had his shield up.

“
They won’t be able to move for a while. Come, it looks like our man left a surprise to stun us and enable him to escape.
”

“
Shouldn’t we take the crafted shield?
”
asked Caldan. It lay next to the injured journeyman.

Simmon shook his head.
“
You have your own shield. We need speed now. Leave it.
”

Caldan was aware Simmon’s
trinkets
had been linked to his open well. Two rings in addition to the one he had sensed when he first met the master, as well as the thin wristband.

Simmon looked around the room, searching for something. He frowned and motioned for Caldan to follow, moving carefully into the next room.

Caldan wiped sweaty palms on his pants, took a breath and followed into a large sitting room with open doorways on the left and right sides, and a door ahead.

Simmon quickly poked his head into the two side openings. Caldan nervously eyed the room for anything that looked like it could cause an explosion. Not that he knew what that would look like. It seemed the more he learnt the more there was to know. His hand gripped his sword hilt so tight it ached. With a conscious effort, he released his hold.

“
Hallways,
”
said Simmon, disappointed.
“
I thought there would be a back stairway somewhere, for servants and the like. We’ll have to join up with the other team. Let’s hope there are no more surprises on the way.
”

Simmon stood near the door in front of them, hand on the knob. With a twist of his wrist he jerked the door open, rushing into the room ahead.

Another spacious room, this one with a marble floor and a wide staircase leading up. Lying amid scattered stone fragments were the three journeymen and Master Jazintha, their clothing in tatters, covered in blood. A twisted metal shield lay on the floor, bent and rent. Jagged holes pierced the crafted metal.

Between Simmon and the bodies, the floor was empty save fragments of stone. With a growl, Simmon rushed forward and skidded to a stop over Jazintha. He felt her neck for a pulse and motioned for Caldan to check the journeymen.

With a sigh of relief, Simmon pulled his hand away.
“
Alive. If only barely. Looks like they ran into the same thing we did, only stronger.
”

“
The others are alive, too, but they need aid. Should I get help?
”

“
There isn’t time. They’ll have to wait. We can’t let this man escape. This sorcery, destructive, so strong, I have not seen its like since….
”
He broke off.
“
We have to stop him.
”

Simmon looked Caldan in the eye.
“
You are bound to us now. No one except a select few know what some people are capable of perverting sorcery into.
”
A steely look came into his eyes. He stood and looked up the staircase.
“
Come.
”

Simmon set off at a run, bounding up the stairs three at a time with Caldan racing after him. At the top of the stairs, a large landing opened onto a hallway, with more stairs continuing up.

Simmon stopped abruptly at the landing, eyes closed. Caldan sensed he drew from his well, focusing his talent to search for something. On his hand, one of his rings pulsed with power.

For a full minute both stood there, Simmon with eyes closed, Caldan too nervous to close his own. Blocking external stimuli always helped, but he was too scared. He sensed nothing on this level, though below them he felt pulses of power from Jazintha and the journeymen and an… absence, the size of which led him to believe it had to be the shield. Still functioning, whatever its use was, despite the damage it had sustained.

Nothing.
“
I can’t sense anything,
”
said Caldan.

“
Me either. The two of us can’t search the entire building. He’s bound to escape.
”
He took a step across the landing towards the hallway.

A faint draft of air brought the scent of lemons from above them.

“
Wait,
”
Caldan hissed.

Simmon stopped.

“
Upstairs. I… I can smell it. It’s like lemons.
”

Simmon looked at him disbelievingly.
“
You smell it?
”

“
Yes, sir.
”

“
Like lemons?
”

Caldan nodded.
“
Yes. I smell lemons whenever someone close by opens their well or is linked to it. Someone is linked to their well. A sorcerer. I couldn’t sense anything else. No
craftings
, no t
rinket
s.
”

Master Simmon looked intently at Caldan.
“
I knew someone once who could do something similar, though it wasn’t lemons. And he wasn’t a sorcerer. His talent lay in other areas.
”
He glanced back at Jazintha and the injured journeymen.
“
I guess we’ll find out.
”
He turned and, with a brief nod to Caldan, rushed up the staircase.

At the top the stairs narrowed further until they were barely shoulder-width before ending at a thick door, secured with a solid iron lock.

“
Stand back,
”
ordered Simmon. He removed a fingernail-sized piece of crystal from a belt pouch. Etched into its faceted surfaces were tiny glyphs. Simmon wedged it into the keyhole then stepped back.

Caldan sensed Simmon draw from his well and link to the gem. Simmon looked at him.
“
Too late now,
”
he muttered.
“
Doubly bound.
”

Caldan looked questioningly at the master, but he only shook his head.

As each moment passed, Caldan could sense the power building in the gem. There must be powerful buffers built into the
crafting
to handle that much, and still it absorbed more.
What was it for,
he puzzled?
Could it unlock the door?

A sharp retort emanated from the lock. Caldan ducked his head.

Simmon raced back up the stairs and pushed the door open. Heat radiated from the broken, twisted mess of the lock.

Through the doorway, they entered a rooftop garden. A low wall surrounded the edge of the building. A lily pond stood in one corner, the water’s surface reflecting the moonlight. All around the garden stone and metal sculptures were placed, some knee-high, while a few were man-sized. Shadows stretched across the roof and the plants were composed of shades of gray in the washed out light.

The garden was empty.

“
By the ancestors,
”
cursed Simmon.

A strong smell of lemons hung in the night air. A gentle breeze blew the scent away, but moments later it returned. Caldan grasped Simmon’s arm and squeezed, sniffing pointedly. His gaze roamed around the garden. Simmon stiffened in his grasp.

In the shadows, one of the statues moved. Moonlight shone on a short man in a fine coat and shirt.

“
Ah well,
”
he said, voice filled with mock sorrow.
“
I guess it was too much to hope you wouldn’t get this far. A pity. I do hate to kill unnecessarily. Such a waste.
”

Simmon stood straight, hands by his sides.
“
By the power invested in me as a Protector, I am arresting you for the use of destructive and coercive sorcery. You will be given a fair trial, and you had best come quietly.
”

“
Tsk, tsk. As a Protector? A fair trial? A quick death is what I’ll have in your hands. No, I think not.
”

Caldan fingered his wristband nervously. Both he and Simmon had their shields up, but what had happened below had him worried his
crafting
wouldn’t be able to withstand such forces. He wished Simmon hadn’t dragged him along tonight.

“
Whatever your crimes,
”
continued Simmon,
“
you’ll receive a fair trial. We aren’t monsters.
”

“
Again, I think not. There is more at stake here than you realize.
”
He tossed something in front of them which spun in the moonlight.

There was a crackling sound and a solid wall slammed into Caldan and Simmon, knocking them backwards. Caldan’s entire shield turned purple, totally obscuring his vision. His wristband whined under the strain, becoming hot on his skin. Lying on his back, he groaned. Simmon lay motionless beside him, without a shield protecting him. Cracked and broken, the master’s thin wristband lay next to him. Blood trickled from his ear.

Caldan rolled over and levered himself to his knees. His shield had held and was still linked to his well. He felt the strain decreasing as it strove to reach equilibrium. Grunting, he dragged himself to his feet. His body felt bruised all over. Pieces of shredded leaves and branches covered the ground. He stumbled a step forward, fumbling with his sword hilt, and managed to draw his blade. The tip hit the ground. Its weight seemed to have doubled.

A voice reached him through the ringing in his ears.
“
My, my, your shield held.
”

Sweat dripped from his every pore. His skin burned hot. Ancestors, he felt like he was burning up. Caldan raised his eyes and saw the man surrounded by his own shield, this one shimmering with multicolored tones. He stood twenty paces away. Too far.

“
Urgh,
”
Caldan croaked.

“
Well said. That pretty much sums up your predicament. I don’t know what you’re planning to do, but unless that’s a
trinket
or a supremely smith-crafted blade, it won’t be of much use. And if it is a
trinket
, well, that would be a blade worth dying for. Alas, you’ll find my shield far superior to yours, with your rudimentary knowledge of
crafting
.
”
He shook his head.
“
Why you limit yourselves I’ll never understand.
Crafting
devices to keep the nobles and emperor happy, scrabbling in the dirt for their approval and ducats when you could have much, much more.
”

Caldan staggered forward another step, watching as the man drew something out of his pants pocket. He needed to act, to try something.

His skin grew hotter. Strength filled him. Aches and pains flowed away like water. He lifted his sword. This is how he had felt before the accident with Marlon, when he had driven the practice sword with strength he never knew he had.

Without hesitation, he ran at the sorcerer, crossing the distance between them in the blink of an eye, faster than he had ever moved before. As he thrust with his sword, the confident smirk of the man changed to surprise through the wavering air around both shields.

The tip of his metal blade penetrated the sorcerer’s shield, cracking ribs and burying deep into his chest. Caldan’s thoughts again flashed back to Marlon.

With a pop, the sorcerer’s shield winked out, and he grabbed at Caldan, lips moving. The light drained from his eyes. He slumped to the ground, sword sticking from his chest. From his right hand, a crafted metal ball rolled free.

Caldan sunk to his knees, trembling, exhausted. He sucked in lungfuls of chill night air.

A boot scraped on stone behind him. He turned to see Jazintha in the doorway, leaning on a side wall. Her clothes were torn and bloody, but she was moving.

“
How did you do that?
”
she exclaimed.

Caldan shook his head, too tired to speak.

“
You must be one tough bastard. Stay there. Help is on the way.
”
She staggered over to Simmon and knelt over him, placing a hand on his neck.
“
This one’s a tough bugger, too. Takes a lot to put him out of action.
”
She glanced at Caldan.
“
Looks like he was right to bring you along tonight.
”
She laughed loudly. A surprisingly warm and mellow sound.