Fyne Sisters - The Star Witch Part 20

"That is yet to be seen."

She had never met anyone who understood her dilemma, but Thayne seemed familiar with the ways of both aspects of Isadora's gifts. "How do I put destruction aside, once and for all?"

He started slightly, and his old fingers trembled. "You should never abandon any of your powers, Isadora. Destruction is frightening, and often misused, but when you are sworn to protect, it is also inevitable."

"I was told I would need to choose," she argued.

Thayne smiled. How had the old man managed to keep so many teeth in this place? "You chose long ago, dear, and you chose well." His smile did not last. "In the practice of protection there is always a time for destruction. For us, that time is coming. Soon."

THE SENTINELS ON Level Four were so accustomed to seeing Lucan outfitted for his daily exercises in the courtyard, they paid him little mind as he took the stairway downward. If he had been going up they would have interfered, as he was well-armed. But as he was headed down, away from the emperor, they did not try to stop him. They barely gave Franco a glance, and some smiled at the very idea of the valet serving as sparring partner on this day. They did not know that Franco was a well-trained warrior who could best any three of them.

They reached Level Ten, the ground level where the entrance to the courtyard awaited, and continued downward. Level Eleven was so noisy Lucan's ears were pained. This was the place where the lift and the unnatural lighting devices were powered, Isadora had explained. He did not stop to examine the contraption that made so much noise. Another day, perhaps.

At Level Twelve, the final Level, he encountered a heavy wooden door. It was not even locked, so he opened it and walked boldly into the austere, cold hallway of the emperor's prison.

Three sentinels lifted their heads as he entered. Their faces were familiar; he had seen them about the palace in his time here, which meant they had seen him and would not be alarmed.

"Captain," one guard said as he took a step forward. "I believe you must be lost..."

"I am not lost." Lucan drew his long sword, and behind him Franco did the same. "The empress's cousin, Isadora. Where is she?"

All three sentinels drew their weapons; short-bladed swords they handled like men who had used them before.

"Is she in one of these rooms?" The cells would be cool and dark, he imagined, as he had seen in his vision.

"Sir," the sentinel in the lead said as he a.s.sumed a fighting stance, "I will only warn you once-"

"I need no warning from the likes of you."

The skirmish that ensued was quick. The clang of blades meeting in air rang loudly in the small stone corridor, but three sentinels were no match for two Circle warriors. The fight that followed the initial meeting of steel did not take more than the span of a few heartbeats. A slash, a turn, a sidestep, and a thrust, and all three sentinels were unarmed and lying on the floor. Two were dead; one was severely wounded.

Lucan knelt beside the wounded man and drew his dagger. He held the tip against the man's throat. "The empress's cousin, Isadora, where is she?"

The sentinel shook his head, and Lucan pressed the tip of the blade into a quivering throat.

"Wait!" the man shouted hoa.r.s.ely. "Don't kill me. I know who you're looking for. One of the other sentinels talked of it, days ago. The emperor himself brought her here."

"Where is she?" Lucan asked with strained patience.

The sentinel reached behind him and laid one hand on the wooden hatch that was set in the floor. "It's too late," he said. "She's been down there for many days, and no one survives in that place for very long.""What's down there?""Level Thirteen. It's just a hole in the ground beneath the palace. A pit.""The emperor put his wife's cousin into a pit? Why?""Isadora Fyne is not the empress's cousin," the sentinel said, a new fear in his eyes."Then who is she?""She is the empress's witch."Lucan was tempted to drive the blade into the man's throat and be done with it, but he could see that the truth had just been spoken. This man truly believed that Isadora was a witch. Perhaps that's what theemperor had told his men in order to justify imprisoning her.In the back of his mind a voice whispered, Beware the witch.Lucan stood and nodded to the wounded sentinel. "Watch him," he ordered. "I'll be right back."

"You're not going after her," Franco said, surprised. "You heard what he said.""I am going after her. Isadora is alive, and I won't leave her down there." Witch or not, she did notdeserve to be left behind.

"We could kill him, and then I could come with you," Franco said. The man on the floor shuddered, in

preparation for death. "You can't go down there alone, Captain."

"No, we might yet need him." Together he and Franco lifted the hatch in the floor. The odors and the noises turned his usually staunch stomach. The pit in the ground, Emperor Sebestyen's Level Thirteen, was a h.e.l.lish place, and there were men down there. Filthy, bone-thin, desperate men who spoke and screamed and flitted in and out of the dim light that spilled below.

"Don't," the sentinel rasped. "Lots of men go down there, but none ever come back up again." "I will," Lucan promised, and then, with a short blade in each hand, he dropped into the hole.

THE BOWLS THAT were shared by all the residents of the wizard's secured section of Level Thirteen were made of stone. Most were marked with a natural well that would hold a serving of tasteless mushroom soup, while others looked as if they had been purposely shaped with a tool of some sort. Another stone, perhaps. The spoons were fashioned from metal that had once adorned a soldier's uniform or a woman's fancy girdle.

Nothing went to waste in this place.

Isadora had been relieved to learn-through long conversations with the empresses-that a wizard's spell had helped Ghita and Avryl sleep through much of their time here. She could not imagine living in a sunless cave for so many years and surviving with mind and body intact. Rikka had refused his offers of a magical sleep, but if she was here for years instead of months, would she eventually relent? Would anyone? Since Isadora's coming they had all been awake more than asleep, as they waited. She wasn't sure exactly what they were waiting for, but now and then they looked at her with an expectation she did not understand.

With no illumination but the wizard's light, Isadora was unable to tell whether it was night or day aboveground. Not that it mattered. The days moved in a regular enough symmetry, the only event providing any sort of regularity the delivery of food and Panwyr to the prisoners who lived in the darkest section of Level Thirteen.

Isadora had no sympathy for murderers and traitors, and she certainly had none for Nelyk. But to live in that filth and darkness for such a long time... it was unnaturally cruel.

Today's delivery had already been made, so when the prisoners once again began to howl, everyone turned their heads toward the stone corridor that led to the center of the pit. Then all eyes turned to Thayne. The wizard's eyes went dark, and his purple light increased, then dimmed.

"It is time," he said in a lowered voice.

When he headed for the corridor, everyone followed. Isadora jumped off the dirt floor and followed Rikka. "Time for what?" she whispered as the walls closed in around her. In many parts of the corridor, there was only room for one person at a time to pa.s.s, so she had to lean forward to ask her question.

"Thayne said that after you came, the one who would rescue us would follow."

"Rescue?"

"A true warrior, he said," Rikka whispered. "A champion surrounded by blades and truth and n.o.bility."

Isadora's heart leaped. Lucan. "Why didn't someone tell me?" Her time might have been easier, if she had known with certainty that Lucan would come for her.

"Thayne didn't know when the rescue would come. Days, weeks, months. He did not want to raise your hopes, not while the Panwyr was still at work in your system and you were not entirely yourself."

When the corridor widened, she slipped past Rikka and Ghita, and then past two of the more quiet male prisoners who had been here so long their skin was chalky and their clothes were all but falling off their thin bodies. Soon she was right behind Thayne. From her position close behind the wizard she could hear the prisoners screaming.

"I know who that is," she said softly.

Thayne did not turn around to look at her. "Of course you do, dear."

LUCAN HELD HIS swords ready, but no one approached. The area where he stood was lit from above, since the hatch in the floor had been left open, and Franco held a torch close to the opening. Beyond the circle of illumination all was dark.

Dark, but not silent. The screams and the rustlings from the darkness were more terrifying than any battle, more bone-chilling than any opponent he had ever faced. He had seen a few of the prisoners when he'd first dropped into the pit. They were thin and stooped and filthy, and the one pair of eyes that had caught his, before running away, had been undeniably crazed.

The stench was almost overpowering. Rot and unwashed bodies and dampness combined to create an odor that turned his stomach. And Isadora had been down here for well more than a week? He could not imagine a woman like her enduring in this place. He could not imagine anyone surviving here for any length of time.

"Isadora," Lucan called in a strong voice. He did not feel her here as he should, and he did not see the wizard's light he had found in his meditation. He had no idea how deep the darkness went, or if there was another entrance to this h.e.l.lish place. She could be anywhere.

He should be able to call upon his gift to find her, but he needed a calmness of mind to reach that part of himself, and at the moment his mind knew no calm. "I don't want to hurt anyone," he added. "I am here for Isadora."

"Pretty girl," a voice whispered from the darkness.

"Pretty witch," another voice called.

Again, someone accused Isadora of witchcraft. Perhaps the prisoners had heard the sentinels above, or the emperor himself, use that as an excuse for throwing her into this place.

"Tell me where she is, and I'll get you all out of here."

The screaming turned into mutterings, and eventually a few of the prisoners stepped forward. They all pointed in the same direction, into the deepest black shadows beyond the darkness that was Level Thirteen.

His eyes had adjusted somewhat, but he could still see nothing beyond the darkness. Lucan sheathed one sword and glanced up. "Franco, toss me a torch."

A moment later, the young warrior did as his captain asked. A flaming torch dropped into the darkness, and Lucan caught it with his free hand.

Darkness in this place was best. The death and despair he saw in the torchlight was sickening. Still, he saw no sign of Isadora. "Find a rope," he called, not even glancing up at Franco. "A rope ladder, if possible. Kill the sentinel if he doesn't tell you where to find what you need." A few of the prisoners cackled at that command. "We're going to get these men out of here, as soon as I find Isadora."

"You don't see her?"

Lucan glanced in the direction the prisoners had indicated. Beyond the light of the torch, all remained dark. "No. Not yet." He took a step, and then another. Before him, the body of a man lying on the floor was illuminated. Eyes wide open, skin sagging over bones, he appeared to be dead.

And then the body twitched, and the eyes cut toward Lucan. The man squinted against the light, and scurried into the shadows.

Emperor Sebestyen would die for putting Isadora in this place, Lucan vowed as he continued to move deeper into the gloom of Level Thirteen. He turned a corner, entered a narrowing pa.s.sageway of sorts, and left the small bit of light from the open hatch behind.

IT TOOK LONGER than Isadora thought it should to reach the unprotected section of Level Thirteen. She did not remember making this long trip after Thayne had rescued her from Nelyk, but then she did not remember much after the emperor had shoved the Panwyr up her nose. Had Thayne carried her all this way? He was old, and living down here had sapped his strength. Maybe he had dragged her to safety.

Along the way she spotted more than one Isen Demon swirling along the lower edge of the cavern wall. Or was it the same one, following their path? Sad souls, trapped here the way the emperor had planned to trap her, preferred the darkness, so they did not linger long in the wizard's light. Rikka had whispered once that the demon fed on the souls of the dead, and that with each feeding it grew larger and stronger. And yet it did no more than hide in corners and peek at the living, as it awaited its next meal.

Isadora did her best to put the sad Isen Demon out of her mind. She was bursting to see Lucan. She needed and wanted to see him almost as much as she wanted out of this cursed place. Nothing else was in her mind, nothing but looking at his face and throwing her arms around him and holding on. She'd been alone for so long, with no one but her sisters for companionship and affection. Having Lucan in her life in such a way was unexpected, but it was also a gift, as important as her powers and her calling for protection and her very life.

Just beyond a curve in the natural stone corridor, she saw a new light. Not Thayne's purple light, but the warm illumination of a fire. She grasped the back of the wizard's tattered robe, in barely contained excitement.

"He came here for me?" she whispered.

"Yes, he did, dear," Thayne answered.

To willingly come into such a place... he must care for her, at least a little. There had to be something more than the l.u.s.t they shared to compel him into Level Thirteen. If he knew she was a witch, would he still bother to rescue her? Or would he walk away and leave her here?

They reached the opening, and she could see the magical seal that Thayne had put in place to keep the rat-men at bay. It shimmered, purple like his light. And beyond the shimmering seal, she saw Lucan approaching. He held a sword in one hand and a torch in the other, and he moved forward cautiously. For the first time in many days, Isadora smiled.

"Lucan!" she shouted.

"He cannot see or hear beyond the-" Thayne began, and then Lucan's eyes snapped directly at her and he moved quickly forward. "Interesting," the wizard whispered, as he lifted his hand and said the words that broke the seal.

Once the seal fell, Isadora ran past Thayne and all but threw herself at Lucan. "You're here."

The hand that held a short-bladed sword circled around her, and Lucan lifted her slightly off the ground. "Of course I am here," he said. "Did you think I would leave you?"

She backed away from Lucan and looked up into his face, which was illuminated by firelight from the torch he carried. In all her life, she had never seen anyone or anything that was so beautiful; she had never known a man existed who could touch her heart and her soul so deeply. She would gladly give up all she held dear-her magic, her place on Fyne Mountain, even the simple life she had enjoyed with her sisters-to be with this man, even for a short while. He had known the truth long before she had. Hadn't he asked her to leave Arthes with him? Hadn't she seen the power she felt in her heart in his eyes?

"I can't wait to see Tryfyn in the spring," she said softly.

Lucan smiled at her, and the two of them a.s.sisted the other protected prisoners along the way to the main part of Level Thirteen. They turned a corner and saw the light from the hatch above. A rope ladder had been dropped, and prisoners were scrambling up the escape route and disappearing.

Isadora's heart leaped. "Nelyk," she whispered. "Oh, no. Has he already escaped?"

Lucan looked down at her. "Who's Nelyk?"

"A priest," she answered. "He's..." He knows who I am, he means to kill me, he is an evil man... "He's one of the prisoners I would not like to see go free."

"No one deserves this," Lucan said.

"No, but..."

Maybe he heard the concern in her voice, because he asked in a sharp voice. "What does he look like?"

"He's..." She realized, as the words froze in her throat, that at the moment Nelyk looked like all the others. Bearded, thin, desperate. A few of the prisoners in Level Thirteen had once been in positions of power, so Nelyk was not even the only one who wore a crimson robe.

"I don't imagine any of the prisoners will remain in the palace a moment longer than they have to," Lucan said in a comforting voice. "Don't be afraid, Isadora. I will stay at your side, today and always."

"Always is a long time." And if he found out she was a witch, always would end in a heartbeat.

Thayne and Lucan held the remaining prisoners at bay while the empresses climbed the rope ladder to safety. They tried to get Isadora to follow the other women, but she refused. She remained beside Lucan, determined to see the others out of the pit before she herself climbed from Level Thirteen.

The men Thayne had saved climbed, many of them struggling since their strength was not as it should be, and now and then another filthy rat-man would run to the ladder and shove someone else aside so he could make his way up. They even scurried like rats, darting from the darkness. No one tried to stop them. Isadora watched for Nelyk, but she did not see him. Given his selfish nature, he had likely escaped up that ladder first, shoving all others aside.

Would Nelyk run from the palace like the others, or would he run straight for the emperor?

Finally, there were only three of them left: Thayne, Lucan, and Isadora. Thayne looked at Isadora and nodded.

"You first," she said. The old man was weaker than she, and besides, she was not ready to leave Lucan. She wanted to know that he was right behind her.

Thayne only protested minimally and then he began to climb. He moved slowly, and his grip on the rope was tenuous. When he reached the top, there were others-Franco and some of the prisoners he had protected-to a.s.sist him.

When that was done, Lucan sheathed his sword. "Your turn," he said, smiling down at Isadora. For the first time since she'd seen this place, all was quiet. There was no labored breathing, no mutters or cackles or whispers from the darkness.

"Thank you," she whispered.

She went up on her tiptoes to give him a kiss, but before her lips touched his, a shadow rushed out of the darkness, and a bony hand gripping a sharp rock swung into the light of the torch and bashed against Lucan's temple. He crumpled to the ground, dropping the torch as he fell. The flame illuminated the face of the attacker as it dropped.

Nelyk grabbed Isadora by the throat. From above, many voices shouted, and she heard the rattle of a sword as Franco started down the rope ladder.

Was Lucan dead? She had seen the blood bloom as the blow landed, and he had dropped to the ground with such force.

"You won't get away with this," she whispered.

"I already have." Nelyk grabbed Lucan's sword and held the tip against his chest. That chest still moved, Isadora noted with relief. Lucan was not dead. Nelyk held up a much-too-familiar vial of brown powder before her nose. "Use your magic on me, and I'll drive this blade through his heart."

"What do you want?"

"I've been saving this for you." He waggled the small vial of Panwyr before her nose. "I killed two men to take it for myself, hoping that you and I would have another moment together before this life ended."