Artifacts Of Power - Dhiammara Part 10

"Don't hurry back," Shia snapped at him, and went on trying to eavesdrop on the conversation Aurian was having upstairs. Just as she was thinking about giving it up as a bad job and actually going to find the Mage, she heard Khanu's mental call: "Shia, listen ..." In the distance, from the other side of the courtyard, Shia's acute feline hearing could just pick up a distant sound, very m.u.f.fled and faint.

"Did you hear that?" Khanu demanded. "I think it's coming from underground. You had better talk to Aurian. That sounded to me like a human, screaming."

As she listened with horrified fascination to the swordsman's tale, Aurian found her anger beginning to ebb away. Despite everything that had happened this was still Forral, her first love, and as he told her of his ordeal in the endless grey monotony Between the Worlds her heart ached for him. She heard how he had used the Well of Souls, until Death stopped him, to watch over her-no wonder she had often felt that he was close-and how he had learned that by dipping a hand into the waters, he could send his shade into the world to help her as he had done in Dhiammara.

Then Forral related the mysterious arrival and departure of Vannor. Aurian's heart gave a lurch as he mentioned Death's admission that the merchant had been poisoned by none other than Eliseth. A dreadful suspicion had entered her mind. Her fingers tightened on the Staff as her thoughts began to race. "d.a.m.n that b.i.t.c.h to endless torment," she snarled, but collected herself quickly. "Go on, Forral," she urged the startled swordsman. "I'm beginning to guess what must have happened-but tell me the rest."

But when Forral's tale came to Anvar and his plight, Aurian could scarcely bear to listen to his account of Anvar's arrival in the realm of Death. "I tried to talk to him," the swordsman told her. "I was desperate for news. If Anvar was dead, what had happened to you? Death tried to persuade him-both of us in fact-to come away. He said we couldn't stay there-it wasn't safe. Someone was misusing the Caldron of Rebirth ..."

Dear G.o.ds, Aurian thought wildly. I knew itl Then she noticed that Forral had stopped speaking. He bit his lip and looked away from her. "You were probably right to blame me," he muttered. "It must have been my fault. Maybe Anvar would have come back to his body if I hadn't delayed him- but you see, Death had tried so many times to get me to enter the Well of Souls and be reborn-I thought he was trying to trick me again." He frowned. "I don't exactly know what happened then-everything was confused-but I think that whatever the Caldron does to bring people back, it caught hold of me instead of Anvar." He held out his hands beseechingly. "Aurian, you've got to believe me. I didn't do it deliberately- I was just taken. Even if I had worked out what was happening-well, I simply wouldn't have known how to put myself into Anvar's place."

Forral looked unflinchingly into the Mage's eyes. "We've been apart too long if you could even suspect that I'd do such a thing-but do you want to know the truth, love? I thank the G.o.ds I was never called on to make that choice-because I missed you so much, there's no telling what my heart might have misled me into doing."

When she heard the plea for understanding that lay behind Forral's words, and saw his distress so plainly written on Anvar's face, the anger seemed to go out of Aurian. There was no doubt that he had told her the truth. If nothing else, his final admission proved it. Besides, if Forral had been able to return unaided, surely he would have done so long before now. At least now the Mage knew who was truly responsible for this disaster. Only Eliseth was sufficiently inventive to inflict such an agonizing dilemma on her enemy-and she was now in possession of the Chalice of Rebirth.

What a b.l.o.o.d.y awful mess! And there seemed to be no way out of it. Even if she could get hold of the grail, would she be able to bring Anvar back? And if she did, it would mean sacrificing Forral all over again. The Mage's shoulders slumped, and for a moment she was left vulnerable and uncertain. Then she became conscious of Forral's eyes on her.

7 5 6Ma gg i e F u r ey The swordsman was still holding out his hands, waiting for some kind of answer.

"I believe you," Aurian said softly. "You aren't to blame for this. I should have known better-and I'm sorry I doubted you." Then, steeling herself to put the heart-wrenching thoughts of Anvar and his plight out of her mind for the present, she reached out and took Forral's hands. "We'll get through this somehow-and at least it gives us a chance to be together again."

"For a while, anyway," Forral said-and then, to the Mage's relief, he changed the subject abruptly, as though aware that they were straying once more on to dangerous ground. "Aurian, it's a long time since Death allowed me to look into this world. What about our son? Where is he now? Is he all right?"

Oh G.o.ds-Forral didn't know'. Aurian's heart sank. How can I answer him? she thought. How can I tell him that Miathan cursed his son to take the form of a wolf-and then I abandoned the poor child so that I could fight Miathan and Eliseth? Why, I don't even know where Wolf is now-or if he's alive at all. How can I confess that to Forral?

The Mage was spared from having to break the dreadful news by a message from Shia. "Aurian, come quickly. Someone is here. Khanu went into the big place across the courtyard. He says he heard screams coming from somewhere underground."

Chapter 11 The Messenger.

I he feeble moonlight stood little chance of penetrating the thick stained gla.s.s of the library's windows, and it was pitch-black within. Aurian created a slip of ghostly Magelight and sent it floating ahead to light the way. This was the first time she had set foot in the library since Finbarr had met his fate, and she looked around in dismay at the moldering, rat-gnawed volumes, many of which had been dislodged from their shelves and lay open on the floor like birds with broken wings, barely recognizable beneath layer upon layer of mildew and dust. The Mage was glad to reach the filigreed metal gates at the opposite end of the vast chamber- Though she had been dreading the thought of entering the maze of freezing black catacombs beneath the library, it came as a welcome relief to escape the heartbreaking sight of such needless ruin and destruction.

Aurian had not heard the screaming. By the time she had reached the door of the library it had stopped, and now the pa.s.sages beneath were / 58M. aggie F u r ey silent, cold and dark. Aurian was glad that Anvar-no, Forral- stayed close to her, always keeping to her right, so that his sword hand stayed free. He was keeping a wary distance from the great cats, even though Aurian had explained that to friends they were not as fierce as they looked. Clearly the swordsman was far from inclined to take her at her word, and Shia wasn't helping the situation. Having looked into his mind and found someone other than her beloved friend Anvar, she had flattened her ears and was looking sidelong at him with a baleful glare.

With the cats pacing beside them they looked in one room after another on the upper level but found nothing to furnish them with a clue as to the ident.i.ty of the screamer, or the whereabouts of Miathan and Eliseth.

"This is ridiculous," Forral said at last. "We're just wasting our time-freezing to death for nothing. It can't be much further down, or these big beasties wouldn't have heard it. I don't know what you expected to find down here, but. . ."

"Whoever screamed, of course," Aurian retorted sharply. "And what made them do it."

"Are you absolutely sure the cats heard something?" Forral insisted. "I'm sure they must have been mistaken-it would have taken a pretty loud scream to penetrate through all this stone. We may as well go back, if you ask me," he urged. It was plain that the swordsman didn't like the place. Aurian saw him fingering the hilt of Anvar's sword, which he had found in Miathan's chambers.

The Mage, however, had grown used to trusting her instincts, and something still prompted her to persist with the search. "Let's go on just a little further," she insisted. "If Shia says she heard screaming she did-and it didn't come out of nowhere. There's something close by that we need to find- don't ask me why, but I'm sure of it."

Forral looked thoroughly unimpressed by this reasoning- or lack of it. "Aurian-will you come on bock ..." He grabbed her hand, tugging her with him, but dropped it when Shia gave a warning growl.

"It's nearby, I'm sure. Somehow I have the feeling . . ." With Forral trailing reluctantly behind her, the Mage opened the next door.

It was the last thing she had expected to see. Aurian cried out in shock and her Magelight went out, plunging the chamber into merciful darkness. With a stifled oath, Forral yanked Vhiammara 159.

her back into the corridor and slammed the door behind him. "Get away from there, you idiot! Move?" Groping in the darkness, he grabbed her tunic and began to pull.

Aurian resisted his tugging and leant back against the cold stone wall, gasping for breath. Unable to stop herself, she began to laugh weakly.

"Curse you, Aurian, there's no time for this!" Forral yelled at her. "That room is full of b.l.o.o.d.y NihilimV "Forral-it's all right." At last Aurian managed to get hold of herself. "The Wraiths can't hurt us. When my Magelight went out I saw the glimmer of a time spell. They must be the Nihilim that Finbarr took out of time to save me." She laid a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry, Forral. It must have been a horrible shock for you, seeing them like that."

In the dark there was a small silence from Forral, then: "b.u.g.g.e.r it," he muttered. "I feel stupid now."

"You're not the only one," Aurian admitted. "They had me fooled at first." She pulled herself together and kindled a new light to hover above them. "For a minute there, when ! first opened the door and saw them, I thought my heart was going to stop." She was about to put her arms around him, but when she looked up into Anvar's face, something seemed to shrivel inside her and she turned away hastily. "Come on," she said softly. "Let's get away from here. The Wraiths may be immobilized and if they've been here all this time they must be harmless, but you can never know for certain how long a time spell is going to last. Besides, they make my flesh creep."

Forral nodded. "That's the first sensible thing you've said since we came down here."

Shia had nosed the door ajar once more, and was peering curiously at the Wraiths through the narrow gap. "So those are the creatures that haunt your nightmares," she said to Aurian. Her tones held a slight edge of puzzlement.

"Take my word for it, they're considerably more terrifying, not to mention gruesome, when they can move-and feed," the Mage a.s.sured her.

They were just turning away to retrace their steps when the voice came.

Aurian stopped dead. "Can you hear that?" she demanded. "What is it... ?"

The swordsman looked puzzled. "Hear what?"

They turned to one another in consternation. "Something 1 60M aggie F u r ey that only communicates with Magefolk, apparently," Aurian whispered.

Forral's hand went to the hilt of his sword. The Mage gave him a chance to draw it and then, as the echoes of the steely slither had died away, she held up her hand for silence. But when she listened, no sound disturbed the silence save that of their own breath.

"Can you hear that, Shia, Khanu?" Aurian asked hopefully.

"I'm sorry," Shia told her. "I can't hear anything but us."

"Nor I," Khanu added.

The voice, however, had not ceased. The Mage could still hear it in her head-a thin, cold, high-pitched call. It had no discernible words, but nonetheless it was clearly a beseeching, a beckoning, a summoning. Aurian felt a shiver go through her. "It wants us," she murmured. "It wants us to follow."

"What? You have got to be joking!"

"No, truly," Aurian insisted. "The G.o.ds only know what it is, but it can't be a Wraith, or it would certainly have found a way to free its comrades by now. Besides, if it was something that meant to harm us, why didn't it attack when we were helpless in the dark? That would have been the obvious time."

"You'd better be right," Forral retorted, "because you'll be staking our lives on that quaint notion."

Aurian scarcely heard him. Already, she was setting off down the pa.s.sage, in pursuit of the phantom call. She was barely aware that the others followed reluctantly, Forral muttering darkly under his breath.

The Mage crept on down the pa.s.sage following the irresistible murmur of the summons, which did not waver or vary in tone unless she attempted to stop or turn aside into one of the chambers that lined the corridor. If she went the wrong way, the incomprehensible whisper turned into a screeching whine that made Aurian's head throb as though it were about to burst. The same thing happened when she tried to turn back. Soon, she had no other choice but to continue.

Aurian could tell that Forral was worried. His-Anvar's- face, starkly illuminated by the pale Magelight, looked sickly and wan, his dark eyes shaded to fathomless voids. 'Aurian, will you stop this?" he hissed.

The Mage shook her head. "I'm sorry, Forral-I can't. It's too late now-if I don't follow, the voice will drive me mad."

It was easy enough to find the right chamber-Aurian only had to follow the luring call that whispered, with in- Dkia.mma.ra 1 6 /.

creasing urgency now, in the recesses of her mind. Forgetting all caution, she hurried along, drawn by the summoner's spell, ignoring Forral's increasingly frantic attempts to slow her down. Her Magelight streamed behind her, trailing a comet tail of sparks. The voice was still whispering, louder and more urgently than ever. Though Aurian could not have said how she could tell, the summons seemed to emanate from a doorway farther along on the right. Dragging Forral along behind her, she rushed toward the open door-and as soon as she laid a hand on it, the voice abruptly ceased.

"I can't hear it anymore," she said softly. "But it's here-I know it is. Whatever was calling me, is in this room."

As the door swung open it broke Grince's terrified trance. He whirled around-and felt his guts shrivel. There in the doorway stood a pair of what could only be Mages-tall, intimidating, and with silver eyes that seemed to pierce the thief's very soul.

After the first moment of startled confrontation with the tall, red-haired Magewoman, her grim companion, and the fearsome, clawed, fanged black monsters-plainly magical demons or something of the like-Grince had no other recourse save to throw himself to the floor and plead for his life. The Academy was not deserted after all-and he had been caught trespa.s.sing in it! As he lay there, not daring*to raise his head and waiting for some terrible fate to strike him down, a whole lifetime seemed to pa.s.s.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous!" snapped a female voice. "Get on your feet, man, and stop this pitiful groveling. Come on-we don't have time to stand here all b.l.o.o.d.y night."

Her companion chuckled dryly. "That's a good way to persuade him not to be scared."

The female ignored him, continuing to concentrate all her attention on Grince. "Come on, you-answer me! What are you doing down here? Was it you who called me?" Her words were punctuated by bloodcurdling snarls from the demons.

"Lady-spare me!" Grince's voice was little more than a terrified squeak. "I couldn't help it! I didn't take nothing, honest I didn't! I didn't touch a thing! I didn't call you-I would never presume to bother Your Ladyship. The guards chased me here and I got lost, that's all. If you'll only show me the way out, I'll never, ever, ever come back!"

7 62Maggie F urey The Mage made a small sound of impatience, halfway between a curse and a sigh. "G.o.ds help us," she muttered. "Look, you stupid Mortal. No one's going to hurt you, all right? Now just pull yourself together and get up off the floor. As soon as you've answered my questions, I'll show you the way out of here."

The thief risked a sneaky glance at her through his fingers-and began to relax a little. It was difficult to be afraid of even a dreaded Mage when she was standing over the fire rubbing her cold hands in such an ordinary, homely way, with the two black demons sitting at her feet and gazing blissfully into the blaze like a pair of fireside cats.

Watching his unnerving visitors closely to be sure that they had no objections, Grince rose slowly from the floor. As he did so, the leg with the sword cut gave way beneath him and he fell heavily, jarring his torn shoulder and crying out in pain.

The Mage was at his side in an instant. "You're hurt?" She brought her light down to hover just above the thief. "Meli-sanda save us-what have you been doing with yourself?" She looked down at him sternly. "I suppose you did all this damage when you were being chased by those guards you mentioned? Maybe you had better tell me just why they were chasing you in the first place."

Transfixed by her frank stare, Grince suddenly found that he couldn't lie to her, as he had intended. "Lady, I-I-"

"By Chathak's iron britches! Where did he get these?'1 Grince jumped guiltily at the other Mage's voice. He had found the thief's sack, and was upending it near the fire. The Magewoman gave a low whistle as a cascade of gems came rattling out to heap themselves in a sparkling pile on the dark floor. Once more, she turned her stern gaze on the thief. "You stole these. Who do they belong to?"

Grince's mouth went very dry. "P-Pendral," he choked. "The High Lord Pendral."

The Mage burst into peals of laughter. "Pendral? Is that filthy little pervert still alive?"

Dumbly, Grince nodded, utterly astounded by her reaction.

"And you stole his beloved jewels? Well done, you! It serves him right, the tightfisted b.a.s.t.a.r.d." She chuckled to herself and almost slapped him on the back. She stopped herself just in time, and ran a light but expert hand over his injuries instead.

Grince, aghast to see a liquid shimmer of violet-blue radiance coming from the Mage's fingers, shrank instinctively away from her touch before he realized, to his surprise, that she wasn't hurting him in the least. In fact the opposite seemed to be happening. Where the tingling violet light fell on his wounds, the pain and stiffness suddenly vanished, to leave a wonderful feeling of ease and well-being. Before his disbelieving eyes, the gaping sides of the sword cut on his leg began to close up and knit together.

The Mage chuckled again. "You'll have to sew up the rip in your breeches yourself," she told him kindly. "I'm useless at that kind of thing."

Grince looked at her wonderingly. He had lost his mother at the age of ten, and she had never bothered much about him in any case. Since then he had always shifted for himself, even though Jarvas kept a place for him at the sanctuary. No one had ever taken care of him like this. "Thank you, Lady," he whispered. She smiled back at him, and' in that moment he knew his life would never be the same again.

The other Mage had perched on the edge of a table and was smiling encouragingly, though the thief noticed that his hand was never far from his sword hilt. "Now listen," he said firmly. "We came down here because we heard somebody screaming. Was it you who screamed?"

The female Mage turned from Grince with a startled exclamation. "The screaming! What with that other call, I had forgotten about that." She paused a moment, her head c.o.c.ked to the side as though listening for some distant call-then shook her head and cursed. "And now the other blasted voice has gone too."

"From the effect it had on you, I'm inclined to think that may not be a bad thing." Then the other Mage turned his gaze back to Grince. "Now/1 he said gently. "Why did you scream, lad? You look in a bit of a mess-who hurt you? Did that same person frighten you? Is someone else down here with you?"

Numbly, Grince shook his head. "It-it was horrible. It's in there. . . ," Unable to say more, he pointed into the unseen depths of the gloomy alcove.

Aurian glanced sharply at Forral, then stepped away from the fire. "We'd better find out what he's talking about." Concentrating on the slip of Magelight that hovered above her, she 1 64Maggie f u r ey made it flare into brilliant life once more. As the light leapt into the corners of the room, her eyes were drawn across the room to the alcove, whose depths were lost in shadow.

"There," the little Mortal repeated, pointing. "That's where it's coming from."

"Be careful," Shia warned. "It may be a trap."

"There's only one way to find out," Aurian replied. "Keep an eye on this Mortal for me, will you? I think we can trust him, but I don't want to risk him stabbing in the back while I'm preoccupied."

Forral slid off the table to join her and together, they stole cautiously across the room toward the dark void, with Au-rian's Magelight high above them. As the light reached into the recesses of the alcove, the swordsman cried out and the Mage recoiled in astonishment. "G.o.ds preserve us," she gasped. "It's Finbarr!"

How many more shocks did the Academy have in store for her? Aurian was aghast at the sight of her dear old friend, changeless and stark within the blue network of a time spell, frozen in time like a lifeless statue. She took a deep breath and bit her lip hard. "I don't believe this," she said angrily. "Finbarr was killed in the attack of the Wraiths-I felt him die. Why would the Archmage want to take him out of time like this? It's insane!"

"When was Miathan ever sane?" Forral replied grimly. "But Aurian, are you absolutely sure you felt Finbarr die?"

The Mage was frowning, trying to think herself back into the past. "It was the first time I had ever experienced the death of another Mage. It's not a thing you'd mistake, believe me. So why is Finbarr's body preserved this way? I just don't understand."

"Miathan had the grail, remember."

Aurian glanced back at the figure of Forral, wearing Anvar's body. "We've already had an example today of the Caldron's powers," she told him thoughtfully. "After what happened to you and Anvar, do you think this could be something of the same kind?"

"Who can say?" Forral shrugged.

"Well, I think we should release him," the Mage said decisively.

"No!" Forral said urgently.

"No!" Shia's voice resounded sharply in Aurian's mind. "What good can this do? You said yourself that the human Vhia.mma.ra.

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was dead-and there is bad magic here. Leave him be, my friend, and let us get out of this dreadful place. Only harm can come of meddling."

"That's the best advice I've had all night." Aurian smiled wryly at the swordsman, then down at the cat. "Sadly, I can't take it. Finbarr was my friend-I can't leave him here like this without knowing. I would wonder ever afterward if I had been wrong about his death."

"Aurian, you're making a big mistake," Forral warned her. "Whatever is happening here, you shouldn't be meddling with it."

"You're saying this to a Mage?" Aurian replied. "You might as well tell that fire not to burn as tell one of my blood not to meddle." She turned toward the tall, immobile figure of the archivist. "All of you had better stand well clear," she told her friends.

No one took any notice of her-which was about what she had expected. Stepping back, Aurian breathed deeply and calmed her mind, concentrating and gathering her powers. Carefully, she began to unravel the time spell. The crawling blue haze surrounding Finbarr writhed sluggishly and grew still. Then, with a loud cracking sound, it disintegrated into a cloud of tiny blue sparks that fell away as though a sheath of ice had shattered and fallen from the archivist's body. Finbarr *s eyes cleared. He blinked and staggered but pulled himself upright before they could help him, backing away from their outstretched hands.

"Do not touch me. I am not what I seem." The voice was light and dry, and completely devoid of inflexion or emotion. It was not the voice of a human.

Deep in Shia's throat a snarl began. Under her hand, Aurian felt the hair on the great cat's back beginning to rise. She felt much the same way herself. "Then what are you?" she demanded. "What have you done with Finbarr?"