Inked. Part 10

"But Sebastian didn't show."

"No, he sent the Corps instead. So Grayshadow has gone with Plan B: to challenge. Sebastian's inability to stop the Hunter gives him cause. And White Sun was the only warrior Arnou had likely to win against him. No one else will dare take the challenge, meaning Sebastian will be forced to fight himself."

"I take it you don't think he can win."

Cyrus paused at the entrance to the main tunnel, breathing heavier than he should have been for the short hike. "People think that because Sebastian is a diplomat, he's a pushover. He's not. I've sparred with him enough to know that. And he's younger and faster than Grayshadow, although possibly not as strong. If it was a fair fight, it would be an even contest."

"If it was?" it was?"

"Grayshadow doesn't want a chance to win," Cyrus told me grimly. "He wants certainty. And he thinks he's found a way to get it."

"The wolf wards." A few things started to click into place.

"You've seen them?"

"I had them in my hand-briefly."

"Well, Grayshadow has them now. He showed them to me when he returned this afternoon. He wanted to gloat about the fact that while Sebastian might defeat him, he couldn't take out five wolves at once."

"Five?"

"Himself and the four wolves he killed. The life force he stole from them will give him unbelievable strength. No way can Sebastian stand against that. No single Were could!"

"That's why he was at the wardsmith's," I guessed. "To pick up the final ward. And once the man had delivered it, he was of no further use. So he killed him and left one of the gang behind to wait for me, to retrieve the rest of the weapons once I tracked the guy down."

"I don't know about that. I just know what he plans to do with them now." Cyrus started for the corridor, but I pulled him back.

"But why did Grayshadow go to all this trouble? If he wants to discredit Sebastian, why didn't he just tell everyone the truth about you? Sebastian said he knew!"

"Because the only way he becomes bardric bardric is by inheriting the office," Cyrus said impatiently. "By our laws, the is by inheriting the office," Cyrus said impatiently. "By our laws, the bardric bardric is the chief of the leading clan-in this case, Arnou-whoever that may be. But if a new election is called because Sebastian has lost the chiefs' respect-which would almost certainly happen if they found out about me-" is the chief of the leading clan-in this case, Arnou-whoever that may be. But if a new election is called because Sebastian has lost the chiefs' respect-which would almost certainly happen if they found out about me-"

"It would go to Whirlwind of Rand."

"Very likely."

"So instead of discrediting Sebastian, Grayshadow plans to kill him. But that doesn't explain what you think you're going to do."

Cyrus's jaw tightened. "Kill him first."

He changed and slipped out the door so fast, I didn't even see him go. But I heard Jamie curse and the sound of a knife hitting wood. "Jamie, no!" I hit the main tunnel at a run, to find Jamie and Caleb facing off with a huge black and tan wolf.

"It's Cyrus!" I told them.

"That would be more rea.s.suring if his hackles weren't raised," Caleb commented.

"And if he wasn't growling at us," Jamie added, yanking his knife out of a support beam.

"You just tried to stab him!"

"Well excuse the h.e.l.l out of me!" Jamie said, livid. "It's not like the rest of us can tell the difference! One huge hairy beast looks much like-"

Caleb gripped his shoulder. "Don't go there."

I belatedly realized that my feet were wet. There was maybe an inch of water in the hall, enough to slosh against the sides when I moved. "What's going on?"

"This place is flooding, as I told you," Jamie snapped. "We have to get out of here."

Cyrus bounded away and we followed. Water was inching its way down the tunnel as we neared the warded wall again. The floor must have been slanted, because the farther we went, the deeper it got. It was halfway up my shins by the time we reached the end.

Caleb threw a sound shield around us. "Careful. Some of them are still in the outer room."

I hadn't needed the warning. Someone had a light and it lit them up through the thin skin of the ward, like silhouettes in front of a bonfire. I cautiously stuck my face through the faux clay and got a shock.

The remaining Weres-and s.h.i.t, there were a lot-were standing on the far side of the cave, near the door. The ward was still coughing and sputtering, hiccoughing floodwater into the cave every time it flickered out. When it flicked back on, the waterfall coming through the gap was chopped off like a neck on a guillotine. The level in the cave was rising fast, but for some reason, the Weres weren't leaving.

Then one of them was shoved forward by an older man with flowing silver hair and a goatee, a leather coat and dusty boots. Cyrus whined softly and I got the idea. Grayshadow.

The younger Were didn't look happy, but he cautiously approached the ward anyway, as if waiting for it to cut out again. It should have been permeable from this side, with no need to wait. But the water must have messed up the charm, because when he tried to jump through as I had, he missed.

Badly.

The ward flicked back on and sliced him in two lengthwise, killing him before he had a chance to scream. One half of his body tumbled back into the cave, the other fell into the river raging in the tunnel outside and was immediately swept away. Grayshadow made an expression of distaste, kicked the remains aside, and selected another guinea pig.

We watched as this one made it through-barely-and another took his place. This one wasn't so lucky. "He's trying to wear out the ward," Jamie muttered from behind me. "He's using them to sap its strength."

"Why are they doing this?" I demanded. "They don't owe him any loyalty! They're outcasts!"

"Not for long," Cyrus said, his voice tight. Jamie and Caleb did a double take. I guess they hadn't thought Weres could talk while in wolf form. Or maybe it was the deep, guttural sound of his wolf voice that startled them. "Grayshadow offered them a place in Arnou once he takes power."

"He's lying!"

"Of course, but they're desperate. It's the best chance, maybe the only chance, most of them will ever have to regain Clan status. So don't expect them to disobey him-or to show us any mercy."

"Let's make sure we don't need any," Jamie said, pulling his huge sword.

"What is that?" I demanded. It was definitely not standard-issue.

"Claymore. I've noticed that knives don't work too well on these beasties," he told me. And then he charged, throwing himself through the warded stretch of wall, yelling at the top of his lungs.

The rest of us looked at one another, and then plowed through after him.

The reaction was a little different than I'd expected. The odds were heavily in our opponents' favor and Weres don't spook easily. But they were a gang, not trained troops, and they'd already been under enough stress. A screeching war mage brandishing a huge sword was the final straw.

The Weres started shoving toward the door, those in back pushing the rest in the direction of the ward's deadly bite. The ones in front panicked and started fighting back at the same time that we attacked from the rear. And things disintegrated from there.

A few of them either kept their heads or decided they'd have a better chance against us than the door. One ran at the wall, launched himself into the air and landed on four legs instead of two. And jumped straight at me.

I shoved my forearm sideways into his jaw and prayed the spelled leather would keep him from ripping my arm off while I stabbed him hard over and over in the side. He got claws into me anyway, under the shortened hem of my coat, before I could close a shield. I screamed-they hurt like knives- knives- and snapped a shield in place. and snapped a shield in place.

We staggered together into the wall, my shield trapping his paw. He was unable to finish tearing me apart and unable to pull back, my spelled daggers following him like buzzing hornets. He smashed us into the wall repeatedly, trying to break free, as I struggled to get my gun up.

It was useless; I'd have to drop my shields to fire and he'd gut me before I could pull the trigger. I concentrated on tightening my shields instead, drawing the power into a tight band around his wrist, slowly squeezing. A moment later his paw popped off in a gout of blood and my shields snapped shut around it.

The Were fell away, howling, and I found to my surprise that I was still in one piece. More or less. And then I was jumped by two more.

There was no more time to think after that. The fight grew too furious, and it was down to reflexes and training. It could have been five minutes or fifty before I looked up to see Jamie sever the neck of one Were, thrust his sword backward to impale a second, jerk it out and whirl to decapitate a third.

Caleb was fighting with his back to the wall a little way off, hard-pressed by two Weres at once. I reached for my potion belt to help him, only to find that it was empty. The pile of half-melted corpses bobbing in the water around me might explain that, but it was no help to Caleb. Then he proved he didn't need any, sending twin fireb.a.l.l.s to engulf his opponents.

The bodies fell to the floor, splashing into the lake the cave was fast becoming. There were five more Weres standing, but Cyrus wasn't one of them. Neither was Grayshadow.

I clamped down on the panic rising in my throat, swallowing it back down like nausea. I had to shut down that line of thought before it could take hold. Before it could take me places I couldn't afford to go.

"Where-" I started.

"That way!" Jamie waved his huge sword at the entrance. "The cowardly b.a.s.t.a.r.d left a minute ago and your man took off after him."

Caleb nodded. "We can handle this. Go!"

11.

THE water level outside the ward was higher than in the cave, coming up chest high on me. And the current was unbelievably fast. It swept me away before I got a single foot on the floor, pushing me down the pitch-black tunnel at a crazy pace. water level outside the ward was higher than in the cave, coming up chest high on me. And the current was unbelievably fast. It swept me away before I got a single foot on the floor, pushing me down the pitch-black tunnel at a crazy pace.

I crashed through cobwebs, was tossed into unforgiving concrete, and then a pipe in the ceiling poured more water on me as I pa.s.sed underneath. I surfaced, gasping and spluttering, only to be grabbed by the flow and thrown down a long stretch of tunnel that turned and slanted like a mine shaft. Cement blocks and rocks the size of bowling b.a.l.l.s tumbled through the flood, pounding my shields over and over. Every time I started to stand up, the current knocked me down and I finally quit trying.

My waterlogged coat was threatening to drown me, so I shrugged out of it, then narrowly avoided being beheaded by another water pipe. I snagged it with one arm and stared around frantically for some sign of the others. Even with my owl tat, the tunnel was pitch dark, and all I could hear was the wind screaming like a banshee overhead. But I didn't think they'd gone out the way we'd come in. Weres are strong, but they don't have shields. And no one was battling that current without them.

A glance back the other way showed me I was right-two shapes, black on black, were thrashing in the water farther down the tunnel. It might have been my imagination, but I could hear Cyrus's breathing like the beat of my own heart, smell his sweat, see details I shouldn't have been able to pick out in the dark this far away. Which is how I noticed when a rainbow of colors streamed over his face-light from some outside source. And suddenly, they were gone.

I let go of the pipe and the water swept me after them, but not before throwing me against the wall. My shields popped and my shoulder took the brunt, twisting violently. I screamed, but it didn't matter; even wolf ears couldn't hear me over the drain's ceaseless roar.

A sliver of light grew in front of me, the ceiling rolled back and I found myself in an open air channel. Steaming hot rain was sluicing down, daggering into the swirling current and threatening to send my head under. Ahead of me was another tunnel mouth, and curtains of cement rose on either side at least fourteen feet tall.

Even with the flood, that put them well over my head. But they were topped by st.u.r.dy metal safety rails. I threw a la.s.so, but it hit the side of the channel and bounced back, almost snaring me. I let it dissipate and tried again, just as I was sucked into the yawning mouth of the next tunnel. My spell caught on something but I couldn't see what; rain and waves of filthy runoff slapped me in the face, blinding me.

But the la.s.so held, holding me back from taking a wild ride beneath the Strip. I concentrated on shortening it, slowly pulling myself out of the tunnel's mouth and toward the wall. My reaching hand grazed something rough and I looked up to see a sheer expanse of wet concrete, with the top looking impossibly far away.

La.s.sos are not usually difficult to maintain, but then, they're not designed to be used for climbing a concrete mountain where one little slip can mean disaster. It was just as well my shields were gone; I couldn't have concentrated well enough to maintain two spells. But the result was that I got battered against the side of the channel as I slowly pulled myself up, my injured shoulder screaming every inch of the way. I shredded my palms hoisting myself over the top, but I made it.

I rolled through the bottom opening of the safety rails and lay flat in the muck and dead leaves, trying to listen past the sound of my heart slamming into my ribcage. What I heard was the same thing I saw-steaming hot rain pouring down like ark-building wouldn't have been a bad idea. After a moment, I staggered to my feet, swaying a little from sheer exhaustion. But there was no time to rest. Ahead, the Strip was backlit by garish plumes of dark clouds, like a Vegas showgirl in full regalia, and in front of that backdrop two dark shapes were engaged in a fight to the death.

The flickering taillights of pa.s.sing cars cast bands of ruddy light over them, causing their shadows to sprawl monstrously behind them. But even in the dim light, it was obvious where Grayshadow got his name. He moved like gray smoke, faster than any Were I'd ever seen. Faster than Cyrus, who was very obviously losing.

Grayshadow hadn't bothered to change to his wolf form, a studied insult to his opponent. Despite being in what should have been the stronger, faster body, Cyrus had dripping wounds covering his torso, and his right leg was trailing, almost useless. It wasn't hard to see why. There were four jagged gashes in his thigh, each at least six inches long, a mess of crushed and mangled muscles and tendons awash with blood. The skin around the edges was white, crinkled like tissue paper.

It was a bad wound, almost to the bone. In a formal challenge, a wound like that would almost certainly mean death. But this wasn't a formal challenge and I had no compunction at all about cheating.

If only I had something left to cheat with.

My potions were gone, my guns empty, my magic reduced to little more than shields, a.s.suming I could get them up again. I still had my knives, but I'd have to throw them the old-fashioned way and they'd probably do nothing more than make him mad. And hand to hand with a Were was just a messy method of suicide.

Before I could settle on anything, Grayshadow saw me. He gave me a brief contemptuous glance, and the world exploded in pain. My shields had snapped back into place, but they were weak and the a.s.sault was like nothing I'd ever experienced. It was as if lightning had struck the ground at my feet. The world went soundless for a moment, full of white light and savage, tearing pain.

And then it was gone, veering off with the fickleness of all wild magic with no proper spell to hold it in thrall. And the final piece of the puzzle slipped into place. "You're the mage," I said, gasping in surprise and pain.

Grayshadow paused, his face twisted in anger. He looked like he thought I should be dead. And I probably would have been, if I hadn't been storing up my magic for most of the day. But that reserve was mostly expended now, along with my remaining strength. My legs felt like jelly and I had to fold my arms to keep them from shaking.

He threw another volley at me, combining the brute force of wild magic with the speed of a Were. It was a deadly combination. The best I could do was to deflect it and send it crashing into the railing, melting a section larger than my body. Grayshadow scowled, watching metal drip down the side of the channel, while I struggled not to let my shields collapse completely.

"Wild magic is difficult to control," I told him, trying not to wheeze. My whole body was clamoring for rest, for oblivion, but I couldn't afford to look like it. "You've obviously been doing some studying."

"Do not presume to think you know me, human."

"Laurentia of Lobizon was my mother," I reminded him.

"You are human human."

Great. The only one who agreed with me was the bad guy.

"Pot, kettle. If you didn't have some human blood yourself, you wouldn't be a mage. Somewhere back in the family tree-"

"You know nothing about me!"

"I know you murder your own kind."

Rage paled his eyes to silver. "Better that than have them remain enslaved to the humans!"

"As opposed to what? Enslaved to the Fey?" It had been a stab in the dark, just something to keep him talking instead of tearing out Cyrus's throat. But I saw when it hit home. "That's how you developed your talents, isn't it? There are almost no Weres born with magical ability, and certainly none as strong as you."

"Because your people made the substance that would free us illegal! Your only advantage over us is your monopoly on magic. Break that, and Weres will rule instead of serve!"

I didn't try to point out that Weres in no way served the magical community, much less the Corps to whom they were much more likely to give orders than to take them. Because you don't argue with a madman. And unless I was very much mistaken, that's what I was dealing with here. His voice was husky with feverish vehemence, his eyes were bloodshot and his hands shook.

"What substance?" Cyrus demanded, shifting Grayshadow's attention back to where I least wanted it to be.

"Fey wine," I said, scowling at him. "It brings out all sorts of latent talents."

"It also drives people mad," Cyrus pointed out, glaring right back. He must have guessed how close to bottoming out I was, or maybe he was picking up on my thoughts as I'd done his. d.a.m.n it, Lia! Get out of here! d.a.m.n it, Lia! Get out of here!

The words rang in my head as loudly as if he'd spoken them. How the h.e.l.l did you do that? How the h.e.l.l did you do that? I demanded, but got only a scowl in return. I demanded, but got only a scowl in return.

"The weak-minded, perhaps," Grayshadow was saying, with the arrogance of all addicts. "It will weed out the feeble among us, enhance the power of the strong and make us invincible!"