Crossed Blades (17 page)

She was right, and I knew it, but that didn’t make my misgivings one little bit easier to bear.

“Come on, Aral, we’ve got to go on. Faran’s already well ahead of us.”

Jax didn’t say anything more, and in the total darkness her shrouded presence was invisible even through Triss’s borrowed senses. But I could feel her absence as she headed on down the tunnel. I followed after, wondering with every step what Kelos was up to, and coming up empty again and again, no matter how I looked at things. The passage ended at a narrow spiral stair where Faran waited for us with obvious impatience, her head unshrouded and a frown pursing her lips.

“About time,” she said when I pulled my own shroud aside to let her see me.

“I’ll go first,” I said, holding up the finger.

Her frown deepened, but she turned sideways to let me pass, reshrouding behind me. There was another magical seal on the left hand wall at to the top of the stairs.

I turned to where I knew Faran must be standing behind me. “Did the guard have a token or a ring of some sort? I didn’t see one.”

“No, but I found a lunch sack, and a bottle of small beer tucked under the stairs. This clearly isn’t a general use sort of escape tunnel, the Signet or the Abbot probably locked him in for the duration of his guard shift. The bottle was unopened and the sack full, so I don’t think anyone’s going to miss him soon.”

“Good.”

I released my hold on Triss and asked,
I don’t see any cracks here, do you?
I was hoping that with his better command of Shade senses he’d see something I missed.

No,
he replied.
No gaps at all. Same as at the other end. We’re going to have to go through blind.

“I’m going to open the door in a moment here. The map shows it opening into a meditation chamber in the library basement. Hopefully it’s empty.”

“If not, I’ve got it,” said Faran, sliding up next to me.

“Then, in three, two, one . . .”

I touched the ring to the seal and the wall in front of me abruptly vanished. I felt Faran move past me into the room beyond.

“Clear,” she whispered an instant later, not that I needed her reassurance.

The room was maybe seven feet across and shaped like an inverted bowl with a low domed ceiling of polished stone. The only things in it were a couple of carefully rolled prayer mats and a small hemispherical magelamp affixed to the exact center of the ceiling. The latter was currently shuttered, leaving the room in a near-total darkness. Only the dimmest thread of light showed at the base of a door a quarter of the way around the circle from where I stood.

A moment later, that line of light abruptly vanished, occluded by Faran’s shroud. “I don’t hear anything through the door. Shall I move forward?”

“Not yet,” I replied. “I want to find the door seal on this side so we can close the tunnel.”

“Gotta be in the lamp,” said Jax, as she slipped past me as well. “Faran, keep the door shrouded. I’m going to open the shutters and have a look-see.”

I braced myself, but even so, the bright white magelight hammered at my borrowed senses. After the near total darkness of the tunnel, the light smashed into the matrix of Triss’s being in a quasi-physical way, forcing me to contract the area enveloped in the stuff of shadow. It took a good five beats of my heart for me to recover enough from the impact to really look at the magelight in any meaningful way. It was a particularly intense enchantment, blazing both with spell-light and the light of the world. Try as I might, I simply couldn’t see inside the lamp.

“Damn, that’s bright,” said Faran.

“Too bright,” replied Jax. “Though I bet several of the other meditation chambers are just as brightly lit to cover for this one. Hang on a second. . . .”

Her right arm abruptly emerged from the darkness of her shroud, and she stuck her hand in through one of the gaps in the rotating shutter of the lamp. The quality of the light changed as she covered the stone holding the enchantment with her hand, going dim and red. I stepped in close, and the comparative darkness allowed me to see another seal. This one was etched into the stone of the ceiling above the light proper. I used it to close the tunnel behind us.

Jax doused the light. “Everyone ready?”

“Of course,” replied Faran.

“Yes.” I drew my swords and resumed full control over Triss. This was going to be messy and bloody and the chances that there would be at least one or two fewer Blades in the world at the end of the night were very good.

“Then,” said Jax, “Faran, if you’d be so kind as to get the door, we move. Aral goes first.”

The door squealed as it opened, and I silently cursed as I ducked through. A monk was walking through the dimly lit hallway beyond. I took his head off before he finished turning to see who might be coming out of the meditation chamber. Without pausing, I leaped over his falling body and headed for the far stairs. Jax went for the nearer set that went past the passage that led to the abbot’s house and thence to the guest complex.

Behind me, I saw the pale ball of the monk’s head vanish into Faran’s shroud as she picked it up and tossed it into the meditation chamber. I was just ducking through the arch that led to the stairs when Triss’s senses showed me a dim flare of spell-light along the floor back by the door—Ssithra cleaning away the blood I’d spilled. Then I was fully on my own.

I went up two flights, passing another arch. Beyond it I could smell old leather and dust and all the other scents of a lot of books crammed into a confined area. I couldn’t help but smile. At the next landing, I unlatched the window shutters above a reading bench and stepped through into the night. It was a short drop, no more than ten feet, and ended in grass instead of cobbles—part of my reason for choosing this route. I had to take the shock with my knees because my pack precluded rolling out of the fall.

“Who’s there?” Another monk stepped out of the shadows beneath a willow, his too-wide eyes showing white in the pale magelanterns that stood at the corners of the small courtyard.

Dammit.
I smelled the rum on his breath as I slid forward to break his neck and I paused. He didn’t see me, and I twisted aside without touching him. His corpse would tell a much more believable tale than anything he might say to a guard this side of morning, so I let him live and moved on across the courtyard.

On the far side I turned into a narrow paved way that ran between the locutory and the chapterhouse. The latter abutted the temple proper and helped support the larger building, so I went up one of the buttresses between two windows as soon as I left the courtyard.

From there I catfooted my way around the edge of the domed roof to the larger building where I killed a guard by slicing his throat. As I wedged him down into the darkest corner I could find, I glanced up the side of the temple while I decided my next move. The shortest path from here to the crypts went through the clerestory windows that lighted the sanctum, two floors above me. But there was certain to be some sort of guard on watch up among the bells in the tower.

If the guard in the tower was a Sword or Swords, it made sense for me to take the extra time to kill them and disable the bells. If it was one of the Hand, I couldn’t afford to kill them now, for fear the death of their Storm would give warning of our presence. I hadn’t yet decided when my ears popped and I felt a sudden chill breeze come rolling down from the western hills.

In response, lightning flashed in the tower above and a cloud-winged wheel of dark fire slipped out through the windows. Hand then, and nothing I could do about it. I braced myself in the shadowy corner between a buttress and the wall and started climbing as quickly as I could. I hoped the extra darkness there would hide me from the aroused Storm above, because I didn’t have the time to do this gentle and quiet anymore.

Someone had started the killing before I was in position—probably Faran and probably not willingly. I didn’t think it was Jax because I hadn’t heard the sounds of a building coming apart. She’d had enough time to get at least some of the destruction glyphs in place by now, and I couldn’t see her going for half measures in her current state.

I was just coming up on the level of the clerestories when two things happened at once: A tremendous boom and crash sounded from the far side of the temple as the guesthouse came apart and took our plan with it. The Storm above dropped straight down toward me, the fiery wheel that formed its body spinning wildly between lightning laced wings.

16

I
ndecision
is a luxury for the quiet times. If you let it become more than that, it will kill you.

Kelos had taught me: “Think ahead, act in the moment, dither later.” In the split second I had left, I made the only choice that had any chance of keeping me alive. It might have been a stupid choice, but it was all that I had.

As the Storm dove on me from the bell tower, I discarded my shroud, collapsing the cloud of shadow-stuff down into a tight, quasi-solid ball haloing my left hand. With one foot braced on the buttress and the other wedged into the interstice between two of the huge stones that formed the temple wall, I reached my shadowed hand back to the hilt of the sword resting against my hip.

Leaning far out from the corner to give myself the room I needed, I drew the sword with a sharp snapping motion. The point dropped down in the beginning of a circle that took it past my ankle and then up and around to intersect the path of the diving Storm. I could feel myself overbalance as the sword came up past waist level—had known that was inevitable. I ignored the warnings of my stomach and my inner ear as I began to fall outward. Focusing my will on the sword and the shadow, I sent the head-sized ball of darkness up the length of my blade, which threw me even more out of balance.

Storm met shadow four feet over my head with an impact that drove me down and back into the wall. The base of my skull hit the hilts of the swords in my pack so hard that the whole world flashed bright purple for an instant. I ignored the pain and the way my right foot had started to slip, concentrating everything I had on that ball of shadow. It was pressed against the hub of the burning wheel that formed the central matrix of the Storm’s physical form. With an effort that felt like it might tear a hole in my mind, I contracted the shadow sharply, folding it into a pinpoint and twisting. . . .

A giant pillar of lightning connected the sky and the earth, punching a burning hole through the dome of the chapterhouse. The noise and the light came as one, so close I could feel the heat. The thunder hit me like a giant’s slap, shattering what was left of my hold on Triss. My right foot finished losing its toehold, and I pivoted into a weak jump, kicking off the buttress with my left. I caught the sill of the clerestory with my right hand as I smacked into the stones.

For a brief instant I dangled there, one-handed. Then, as I started to slip, I let my sword go and brought my other hand up and around. All the while I expected to catch a burst of lightning in the spine.

It wasn’t until I was pulling myself onto the window ledge amidst the first spatters of rain that I had time to realize my gamble had worked. I would live at least a little longer. But with our presence now revealed, I had to move fast or the hostages wouldn’t.

Triss?
I sent, but there was no response.

That worried me more than a little, but I couldn’t do anything about it. Not until I got my ass out of the gigantic storm that was about to hit and into some kind of shelter. As I started in on breaking the window, I quickly reviewed what I had just done, trying to set the memory in case I ever had to do something like it again. Shades are elemental in nature like the great dragons or salamanders. That makes them into a sort of living gateway to the everdark, the elemental plane of night.

A year ago, I had seen Triss open that gate in a fit of rage, sending men who had tortured me through it, into the dark and the cold beyond. It was probably the scariest thing I’d ever seen a Shade do, and to this day I didn’t fully understand how it worked. That hadn’t stopped me from trying to replicate the process.

I’m not much of a sorcerer. Oh, I can follow directions on the complex stuff and I do well enough with the basics of low magic like magefire and magelightning, but I’d known that none of that was going to hurt a Storm. Hell, most rough magic would probably just feed the thing. But I’d seen how Sshayar had taken on the Signet’s Storm, and I figured that if I could pull something fancy with shadow magic, I might live to see tomorrow. And it had worked. I’d sent an eight-inch sphere of the Storm into the everdark, tearing a giant hole in its chest and killing it instantly.

The aftereffects of that death and those that had occurred when Jax took down the guesthouse had begun with the pillar of lightning. The rain, which had opened with a pitter-patter only seconds ago, was already rising into an icy and continuous hammering like a barrage of sling stones, while the building winds tried to tear me free of the ledge.

I wasn’t done with the many-paned window, but if I stayed outside much longer I was going to take a long fall. Beyond that, I still had to get to the prisoners as quickly as I could. So I forced my head and shoulders through the jagged-edged and too-small hole, picking up a number of nasty gashes along the way.

What the hell?
Triss’s mental voice sounded muzzy and confused as I glanced around the dimly lit sanctum I was entering.

I was delighted and relieved to hear from him, but didn’t have time to answer.
Later,
I sent as I pulled my feet free of the hole in the glass, pivoting into a momentary handstand on the inner ledge.
Right now, I need a skin!

Triss didn’t respond in words, just wrapped himself around me as he released his will once more. The cool shadows took the worst sting from my cuts and scrapes as they slithered over my skin. It felt wonderful, and I wished I had the leisure to enjoy the sensation, but I was already tipping forward and letting go. I somersaulted into empty space forty feet above the floor of the sanctum, spinning myself dark wings to break my fall as I went.

The window exploded above and behind me as a burst of lightning hit it from somewhere on the far side of the huge space—another Storm somewhere within the sanctum. Expected but wholly unwelcome. I half folded my left arm in response, partially collapsing the shadow wing it scaffolded, and sending me into a sharp spiraling downward turn. The next bolt sizzled through the space I’d have occupied if I’d continued my forward glide.

I hit the floor hard as I finished something that was not quite a straight forty-foot fall but well short of the gentle glide I’d originally intended. I let myself collapse, calf-knee-hip-ribs-shoulder, since the bag of swords on my back made a forward roll impossible. It hurt, but I didn’t quite break any bones, so I had to call that a win. I rolled onto my chest and got my hands under me just as something came down on the small of my back with the metallic clash of steel on steel. Most likely a sword or an axe. Judging by the impact, it would probably have sliced me in half if it hadn’t hit the blades in my pack.

The angle of the blow told me where to look for my attacker, and a glance to my right confirmed the presence of a pair of darkly clad feet and legs. I released Triss then—hoping he could give me some cover—as I snapped my right arm, sending the dagger from my wrist sheath into my hand.

Before I could do anything with my dagger, Triss shrieked in pain and my opponent’s blade—an axe, glowing with spell-light—smashed into the stone of the floor a few inches above my head. Triss must have deflected it just enough, but at what cost I couldn’t say. Sparks flew where the steel met the flags. I could hear a woman swearing in the tongue of Heaven’s Reach, as the missed strike put her momentarily off balance. Twisting as far as my pack would allow, I drove my dagger sideways into the woman’s foot, hitting just below the ankle bone and sliding back to sever the big tendon above the heel.

She screamed and her leg collapsed under her, so that she fell across my shoulders and head. I heard the axe striking the flags again as she came down on my back, though this time I didn’t see where it hit. Lightning shattered stone off to my left, peppering my side with shards that bit and burned, but the Storm hadn’t dared to strike me directly. Not while I was so tightly intertwined with its bond-mate. Before it, or she, could move again, I half rolled onto my left shoulder and flicked my wrist to put that dagger in my hand. Stabbing up and back, I slid the blade along the inside of her leg, slicing open the big artery in her groin.

Lightning rained down all around me then, shattering stone and temporarily deafening me, but not one bolt hit me—for which I thank the Hand that shielded me from her familiar. Within seconds, the fallen woman stopped thrashing as blood loss robbed her of consciousness.

Triss, can
you
see anything?

Not right now, no. Not with all the lightning.
His mental voice sounded tight and pained.
But thanks for asking. Also, ow, ow, fucking ow!

Right. What I really wanted at that point was just to lie there for a while and rest. Then, after I’d had my break, I wanted to take my poor tattered shadow and go the hell home. Instead I kept right on moving. By the time I’d twisted myself out from under the dying Hand and dragged myself back to my feet, she was all but gone and the indoor lightning had ceased to fall. Outside, the storm intensified yet again.

I had a couple of heartbeats of breathing space to look around then. The lightning-struck bodies of three or four of the Swords of Heaven lay close by, while another dozen or so were coming toward me from various places in the room.

With a roar like the world’s biggest manticore complaining about a twist in its tail, the whole wall of clerestories above me blew inward. Shards of glass and twisted bits of lead fell like sharp-edged hail and I had to throw myself back against the base of the outside wall to avoid the worst of it. The rain followed, soaking the interior of the sanctum in instants, and I lost track of most of the soldiers of the Sword in that sudden chaos.

Time to shroud up again, I think,
I sent.

Yes, and you’re welcome.
Shadow covered and concealed me.

Thanks, Triss!
I forced myself out and away from the wall—I didn’t want to move, but I needed to get clear of my last known position as a first order of business.
How badly are you hurt?

I’ve had much worse, though the spell on that axe burned like a son of a bitch,
he replied.
How about you?

About the same. Nothing’s broken and I’m in no danger of bleeding out, though I’ve a myriad of new holes in my skin. I really wish I had a couple of efik beans and that I dared to eat them. It’d sure take the edge off.

Triss snorted.
The first couple might, but we both know how that would end.

Which is why I wouldn’t dare take them. But a guy can dream, can’t he?

The rain sheeting in through the ruined windows was playing merry hell with my ability to make sense of what I was getting through Triss’s unvision. I knew where I wanted to go—the entrance to the crypt behind the statue of Shan—and I had long since learned to navigate blind. But it didn’t normally rain inside, and the storm just kept getting worse. The roaring was so loud now I could barely think. At least it was washing some of the blood off of me. I’d gone perhaps twenty feet in what I believed was the right direction when the windows on the other side of the temple blew in as well.

I couldn’t see a thing in the darkness beyond, but the only other time I’d ever heard a storm anything remotely like this bad was when a series of cyclones had ripped through the plains of northern Varya when I was a teenager. One of them had flattened a couple of the temple’s outbuildings. Another had ripped a pretty big stripe out of the nearest town. Dozens were killed.

Thinking of it now made me wonder how that sort of damage had been avoided when the Son of Heaven sent his forces against the temple. Though they had won the battle that day, I knew that a lot of the Hand had died to do it, taking their familiars with them. Perhaps, given time to prepare for casualties, the other Storms could soothe the weather before it went wild.

Then I almost ran into one of the remaining Swords, literally—I didn’t see him till I was practically treading on his toes. I no longer had time to think, only to react. I drove one of the knives I was still carrying into his belly, and then had to use the other on a companion drawn by the first’s scream. A moment later, I left my right-hand knife behind when it wedged between the ribs of a third. I ended up throwing my left at a fourth, hitting her in the neck, but probably not fatally. After that, I had a brief clear space. It lasted all the way to the entrance of the crypt, where another pair of temple soldiers stood waiting.

I had just drawn my remaining sword, when the farther of the pair quietly fell forward and landed on his face—dead, a knife sticking out of the back of his neck. The second turned to see what had taken her companion, and went down in a spray of blood as a line of steel flashed out of nowhere and sliced her throat. Knowing the cause, I was able to infer a faint dark lacuna mostly invisible amidst the craziness of the storm pouring in through every available opening. The curtain of shadow parted just long enough to show me Faran’s face, then closed again.

Trusting Faran to cover my back, I stepped up to the crypt door and pulled out the finger. “I thought you were clearing the perimeter,” I said over my shoulder.

“I had to change the plan rather abruptly. I was heading for the outer wall along the top of the buttery when the big winds first hit. Blew me clean off the roof of the building, and then halfway back to the temple proper when I opened a shadow sail to keep from breaking my neck. At that point, I was in the back courtyard of the temple and it was pretty clear the original play had gone in the shit. I figured getting the prisoners loose as quick as quick could be was higher priority than forcing my way back out to the perimeter through a wall of whirlwinds.”

I nodded though she couldn’t see me. “Sensible.” Then the door to the crypt opened and I turned to the nearer of the two fallen soldiers. “Give me a hand here.”

Together we chucked the body headfirst down the long steep stairs. As it tumbled down the last few steps, I more than half expected a burst of lightning to hit it, or a sheet of magefire. But nothing happened.