Master and Apprentice (41 page)

A final coil looped over my head and wrapped across my mouth, and a greasy slick formed in my gut. But the sensation of a snake against my lips wasn’t the only thing making me want to pray to the porcelain god. The rope stuff was draining my energy, feeding on it. The weaker I grew, the faster it pulsed.

“Akila.” Ian strained to speak. He pushed himself partway off the ground and flopped back down. “What have you … done with her?”

Nurien touched down, slashed a gesture in the air, and Ian went slack. “What if I’ve destroyed her, Gahiji-an? What would you do?”

“Kill you.”

“How original.” Nurien shook his head. “Well, come on and try, then. You’ve got nothing left to lose.”

Ian shifted and slowly got to his feet. “You lie.”

“Not this time,
rayan.
The truth, you see, is so much sweeter.”

“No!” Ian ran at him.

Nurien held a hand out.
“Ela rey’ahn.”

Wind?

Ian flew back in midrush, like a flicked bug. He sailed through the air and slammed against a boulder with a sickening crunch, hanging in place for an instant before toppling face-first to the ground.

A gust of backwash hit me and almost knocked me over. My legs didn’t want to hold me up anymore. If I didn’t get these things off soon, I wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing. Other than wait for Nurien to go through my pockets, find the tether, and kill us both.

Magic wouldn’t help me here. I couldn’t unmake something I didn’t know how to make. But I still had the knife. Had to hope it’d cut through whatever this was. I flipped the handle so the blade pointed up, and bent my wrist until the tendons bulged and strained to lay the edge on the lowest rope.

I could only move the blade a few centimeters up and down. But a rough purring sound suggested it was working.

“No.” Ian groaned and hauled himself up. One shoulder hung lower than the other, and, favoring a leg, he lurched toward Nurien. “You did not destroy her. It is another of your tricks.”

Nurien frowned, a parody of sympathy. “If it helps, she did beg for your life before she died,” he said.

“Lying …
snake.”

“I am Bahari.” Nurien sketched a pattern in the air, closed his hand, and pulled it back. Ian jerked forward as if he were on the other end of an invisible string. “And you, Doma, are the son of a dead dog.”

Ian gritted his teeth. “There is nothing noble about you, Nurien.”

“You’ll eat those words.
Rayan.
” Nurien moved closer to him.
“On your knees, dog.”

The words were djinn, the same echoing tone Vaelyn had used on me. Ian struggled visibly as he sank to his knees.

I strained harder, sawed faster. A faint pop came from the rope, and something cold, thick, and wet oozed over my hand. I didn’t look. Just kept cutting.

Nurien took another step. “If you want to save yourself some humiliation, you can hand over your tether now,” he said. “Otherwise I’ll simply scry it out when I’m ready.”

Ian glared at him.

“Have it your way.” Nurien shrugged and raised his arms. Ian copied the motion in trembling spurts. Nurien brought his down, and Ian folded forward until he was on all fours.
“Crawl to me,”
Nurien said.

Ian crawled.

Grinning, Nurien crouched in front of him. “I did lie, Gahiji-an,” he said. “Akila—my wife, not yours—is alive.” He gripped Ian’s chin, forced his head up. “Beg for her life, and perhaps she’ll stay that way.”

Ian drew in a chopped, stuttering breath. “Please,” he whispered, his lips barely moving. “Please spare Akila’s life. I will gladly trade mine for hers.”

“Not bad.” Sneering, Nurien released him and stood. “Keep going. Admit that I’m superior to you.”

“You …” Ian flinched. “You are a powerful mage. A true noble.”

I was almost through the rope. I thought the rest of them had slackened a bit, but I couldn’t be sure. The only thing I knew was that Nurien wouldn’t keep fucking with Ian forever. Sooner or later—and I suspected sooner—he’d come after me.

I couldn’t be helpless when that happened.

“Good. And you?” Nurien said.

“I am Doma,” Ian rasped. “Insignificant. Weak.”

Nurien laughed. “Well done, dog! Pure music. I could spend the next century listening to that.” He gestured again, and Ian jerked to his feet. “But I do have a Council to overthrow, and a realm to rule. Busy, busy.” He sighed. “I suppose I’ll have to comfort myself with the memories.”

Ian closed his eyes. “You will spare Akila?”

“I’ll consider it. However, your spawn won’t be so fortunate.”

“Please …”

“Don’t bother begging for him.” Nurien’s smile vanished. He made an almost dismissive wave, and Ian flew off the ground, nearly to the ceiling. He floated back and stopped, hovering above a tall spindle of rock with a pointed tip.

Nurien slammed his hands together, and Ian dropped onto the rock. It punched through his back and out his stomach. Blood sprayed up and drizzled down the spindle, black rivulets against dark stone. Ian twitched a few times and stilled, impaled a foot or so from the top of the rock spear.

“Now, then.” Nurien faced me with a cold smile. “How would you like to die?”

A
thin membrane held the rope together. One more pass with the blade should do it. But once I got loose, I’d have to move fast.
Think, Donatti. What are you going to do?

I opened up and let the heat flow into me. Might as well be prepared. And I would’ve told him exactly how I wanted to die if this damned rope wasn’t in my mouth. Of old age, in my bed.

“I could have you slit your own throat. That always amuses me.” Nurien folded his arms and gave me a speculative look. “I can’t decide whether to handle you as common or rare. It isn’t every day I have the pleasure of destroying the last of a clan. Perhaps I should make it special.”

Christ, this asshole loved the sound of his own voice. He probably slept with a mirror.

“Fire is both clean and painful. Maybe … no, it’s not spectacular enough.”

What did I have to work with? A single blade. The tether—no way in hell I’d use that. And the earth. The cave floor was stone, not dirt, but it was the same stuff. Only harder. I could probably work with it. I’d just have to make sure I stopped him
from talking and moving. He’d already demonstrated that he could cast spells without words.

“I’ve got it!” Nurien let his arms down. “You’ll share your master’s fate. It will be poetic. How long do you think it will take you to bleed to death, pup?”

Time to move.

I sliced through the rest of the rope. It uncoiled, and fell away. I dropped the blade, fell to one knee, and smacked both palms on the ground. No time for a smart-ass remark. I shoved magic into the stone and pictured Nurien encased in the stuff, trapped, immobile, gagged.

The cave floor trembled. Rock buckled and cracked under Nurien’s feet, and he sank in to the top of his shoulders like the floor was water. Slack-jawed shock prevented him from casting a spell. The ruptured stone around his head sprouted a circle of thick, jagged slabs that extended up, ran together and curved in to form a dome. Not even a whisper escaped.

Damn. I wanted to seal him in just enough to shut his mouth so I could still get to his tether. But this’d have to work for now. I’d have to practice being more precise sometime when I wasn’t about to die.

I had no idea if it would hold, and didn’t want to wait there to find out. I ran across the cavern toward Ian. He hadn’t moved since he’d been impaled, and I doubted it was because he was comfortable right where he was.

He was stuck just above my head. I could probably float up and pull him off, but that’d take too long. I grabbed the spindle, both hands squelching through half-congealed blood, and urged the rock to break.

It snapped apart, and Ian thumped to the ground.

“Sorry about that,” I said in case he could hear me. If he did, he offered no acknowledgment.

He’d landed on his side, and the shard still ran all the way through him. I gripped the end protruding from his back and pulled. It didn’t move. I considered trying to crumble the thing, but it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to leave pieces of stone inside him. So I sat on the ground, braced my feet against him on either side of the shard, and yanked hard.

It broke loose with a wet pop. Ian screamed.

“Don’t move, okay?” Before he could argue, I scooted back and pulled the thing out the rest of the way. He grunted through clenched teeth, but he didn’t move. “I’ll heal you,” I said. “Hold on.”

Ian coughed out foamy blood and spit. “Nurien.”

“He’s … um, stuck. Just be quiet a minute.”

He did. I worked to heal him, and my body temperature spiked through the red zone. The cave might as well’ve been a sauna. I pushed on, watched the hole through him knit itself closed. I wasn’t sure if he’d broken any bones, but that would have to be enough.

Ian jackknifed upright. “Where is he?”

“Over there.” I waved a hand in the general direction of the dome. “Trust me, he can’t do anything right now. But I don’t know how long it’s gonna hold.”

“Can we get his tether?”

I grimaced. “Not at the moment.”

“We must—”

“I know!” Damn, it was hot in here. I swiped a gallon of sweat from the back of my neck. “I can keep him busy for a while. You need to find Akila. He couldn’t have taken her far.”

“Yes.” Ian scanned the cavern. It was a big cavern. “That may take some time.”

I nodded and tried not to play the guess-how-long-before-Nurien-kills-me
game. “You’d better start looking, then. Maybe … wait a second. The crevice.”

He frowned, and then understanding dawned. “From the scrying spell,” he said.

“Yeah. It was up toward the outside entrance.” I looked that way and spotted the jagged rock garden the vision had passed over. “Should be right around there,” I said, and pointed at the wall beyond it. “And listen. You can cut through that rope stuff with a knife. That’s how I got out of it.”

Ian stood. I followed suit. “Thank you,” he said.

“Don’t worry about it.” I flashed a crooked smile. “You can grovel at my feet later.”

“Do not press your luck, thief.”

“What luck?”

He laughed a little. “May the gods protect you.”

“If they don’t, you’ll die too,” I said. “So get back there and—damn. Is it hot in here?”

Something glowed at the corner of my vision. I glanced over and did a double take. The rock dome I’d trapped Nurien under blazed molten red. Like he was melting the stone.

“Oh shit,” I said. “Make it fast, Ian.”

He whirled and sprinted for the crevice.

I made an instinctive attempt to disappear. Nothing happened. Calvin must’ve laid down a damned wide snare. I threw up a shield so at least Nurien wouldn’t be able to lock me down, and waited.

The glowing rock oozed in concentric ripples down the sides of the dome. A hole opened in the top and widened. When the hole reached a foot across, a jet of green flame spurted from it and shot to the ceiling, breaking into showers of sparks against the jagged rock formations above.

Inspiration struck. I tamped down my hatred of letting my
feet leave the ground, tapped into my djinn magic, and thought about light, fluffy things. Feathers and clouds and whipped cream. That last one probably didn’t help—but I started to rise.

A brief, clumsy flight brought me to a massive cone of rock almost directly over the fiery spout. The dome had melted completely, and the hole was almost three feet wide. It spread a few more inches. The flames died down, and Nurien came up. Aside from a few black streaks and smudges, he looked completely uninjured.

I grabbed the cone and surged magic through it.
Break, baby.

The rock obliged. I gave it a nudge in Nurien’s direction. Unfortunately, it didn’t skewer the bastard, but the thick part slammed into him with a satisfying crack and knocked him to the ground.

I hovered over to the next good-size cone. Pain from expending djinn magic already packed my chest and zapped through my limbs. I wouldn’t be able to stay up here much longer. But this one was positioned perfectly. If I broke it loose, it’d pin him in place.

I laid my hands on it—or tried to. They stopped just short of touching. And no matter how I strained, my arms wouldn’t move.

Below me, Nurien stood and brushed rock dust from his ridiculous outfit. At least I’d hurt him this time. Blood glistened on the front of his shirt where the stone had struck him. He tilted his head back, held a hand out, and crooked a finger.

My body obeyed without my consent. He’d used the puppet spell, right through my shield, as if it weren’t even there.

He stopped and held me in midair in front of him. “I know your secrets now, earth mage,” he said. “That is what you are,
isn’t it? Scion of an earth clan, born of the earth. A fascinating creature. Ultimately, though, no more harmful than a bug, as long as you’re not in contact with your element.”

Damn. I hated smart thugs.

“Let me help you contact the earth again.” With a frigid smile, Nurien swept an arm aside.

I flung due left and smashed into the nearest wall, at about a zillion miles an hour. Bones splintered in my arm. Just before I hit the ground, I was jerked up and dragged back to my previous position.

“Did that help?” He leered at me. “What did you do with the dog, little mage? Tell me, or I’ll break the other one. And then your legs.”

I shuffled through my short list of spoken djinn spells. Paralysis, shield, mirror bridge, tether exploding. None of them would help. So I decided to go with a time-honored spoken human spell—sarcastic insults. “Gee, Nurien,” I said. “Why do you need me to find him? I mean, you’re supposed to be some all-powerful noble.”

True to his word, Nurien repeated the wall-slamming bit on my other side. I screamed this time. He hauled me back, and I gritted my teeth against the pain. Both arms felt like they’d been stuffed with broken glass and set on fire. “Ian’s right. You’re pathetic,” I said. “What, you couldn’t get your own wife, so you had to buy somebody else’s? That’s kinda sad.”