Shadow War Part 37

She fell back, screaming.

Caelan's arm went around her, and he dragged her close even as she kicked and screamed against the onslaught of the shadow. The thing seemed wrapped around her throat. Caelan could hear her choking.

He shifted to sevaisin sevaisin and found nothing to join with. The shadow had no substance, no existence of its own. Caelan caught only a faint effusion of someone else ... a man familiar, yet no one he could recognize. It was like looking at a reflection in a pool of water, hazy and indistinct. In frustration, Caelan sought to join with the source of the shadow. and found nothing to join with. The shadow had no substance, no existence of its own. Caelan caught only a faint effusion of someone else ... a man familiar, yet no one he could recognize. It was like looking at a reflection in a pool of water, hazy and indistinct. In frustration, Caelan sought to join with the source of the shadow.

And found himself suddenly sucked into a tide pool of surging emotions, hatreds, vile pa.s.sions, and perversions. Overwhelmed by the fury of them, Caelan temporarily lost himself. He was being sucked in ... he was becoming ... he was one with ...

"No!" he shouted, and he shouted, and severed. severed.

The shadow screamed in his mind, a mortal cry that went through him like a knife plunge. Freed of that which had controlled it and had tried to control him, Caelan came to himself with an abrupt jolt.

He found himself on his knees at the top of the temple steps. The moonlight bathed him in silvery radiance and coated his sword where he had dropped it. The empress lay on the stones, unconscious or dead, he did not know.

Chapter Twenty.

Frantically Caelan pressed his fingers against Elandra's throat and found a pulse. He sagged with relief and gathered her still body in his arms, drawing her back into the concealment of the darkness.

Across the parade ground, a group of Madruns were coming now, having been alerted by the screams and the flash of light. Bearing torches, they ran with their uncanny speed, and more joined them. It would be scant minutes before they arrived to finish what the shadows had begun.

Laying Elandra down next to the door, Caelan retrieved his sword, then remembered the half-seen a.s.sailant who had thrown the dagger at him.

Breathing out short and hard, Caelan closed his fist around the hilt of the dagger and plucked it from the wood. Using sevaisin sevaisin he joined with the weapon, learning who owned it and who had thrown it. he joined with the weapon, learning who owned it and who had thrown it.

Agel.

The answer made him ill, but he snapped from the joining and gazed around swiftly without sparing time for his emotions. His nostrils flared, drawing in scents, sifting them. He spared one more glance at the approaching Madruns, then hurried off to the right, in the direction from which the dagger had been thrown.

At the front corner of the temple vestibule, he found a narrow flight of steps heading down the side of the temple. At the foot of them crouched a man in pale robes, struggling with a broken shoe lacing.

Agel.

Caelan's heart felt like stone in his chest. Gripping his sword, he went hurtling down the steps.

Agel sprang up to run, but he was hampered by his shoe. He went no more than a few paces before Caelan caught him and drove him full force to the ground.

Crying out, Agel lay unmoving beneath him. Caelan scrambled up, seizing his cousin by his robes and hauling him upright. He shook Agel the way a dog would shake a rat.

"Give us the way in!" he said through his teeth.

Agel moaned something, reeling bonelessly in Caelan's grip.

"d.a.m.n you to h.e.l.l if you do not get us inside! Agel!"

At that moment he was ready to strangle his cousin from sheer rage if nothing else. He had nothing to lose now, nothing to care about.

As though sensing that, in silence Agel pulled a large metal key from his pocket.

Caelan seized it and turned, dragging his cousin with him as he ran back up the steps.

The Madruns were less than fifty paces from the main ceremonial steps. They roared at the sight of him and quickened their pace.

Stepping over Elandra's unconscious form, Caelan slammed the key into the lock and turned it. The heavy door opened with a creak of its hinges.

He shoved Agel inside and picked up the girl. Her head lolled over his arm, her long hair spilling down like a curtain. Caelan carried her inside, then propped her against him while he pulled the door shut and locked it again. A heavy bar leaned against the wall. He threw that into the brackets as additional security.

A heavy thump against the panels made him flinch back. More thuds and kicks resounded off the door, and he could hear the cries of the enemy outside.

On a pedestal near the door, a single lamp cast a feeble glow. Caelan turned around and saw a narrow foyer with an open doorway at the opposite end. The air smelled musty and unclean. He heard unfamiliar sounds in the distance, and his skin crawled.

Agel stood erect once more, no longer stunned. His eyes met Caelan's stonily even as a fresh barrage of kicks and thumps came from the door.

"That won't hold against them long," Agel said.

"Even with a spell-lock?"

"I know nothing of such things."

Caelan didn't trouble to argue. "Lead us below, to the hiding place of the priests."

Agel frowned in defiance. "You'll find no refuge here, disbeliever."

Caelan's final shreds of respect for this man faded. So Agel had joined the ranks of the blasphemers. His healer's robes were a sham, his piety fake.

"Liar," Caelan said harshly. "You have sipped the blood of the d.a.m.ned."

Agel's eyes flinched slightly, as though Caelan's knowledge surprised him.

"You belong to Sien," Caelan accused him. "Admit it!"

Agel inclined his head.

Grief knotted itself in Caelan's heart, but he stayed remote from it. There was no time to deal with Agel now. Nor did he intend to discuss Agel's attempt to kill him. Instead, he met his cousin's wary eyes. "In the name of the empress, give her the a.s.sistance you would deny me."

"The empress has no authority here," Agel said sharply.

"What is this?" Another, deeper voice broke in.

Caelan turned quickly to face the doorway at the far end of the foyer.

Sien emerged, his deep set eyes luminous and alert in the gloom. His saffron robes had been discarded. He wore instead a tunic and leggings beneath a heavy traveling cloak.

At the sight of Caelan he checked, stared, then frowned. "You have brought the enemy to us," he said. "You fool! Could you not lead them away long enough for-"

Caelan hefted the girl higher in his arms. "I ask help for the empress."

Sien's frown deepened. "The empress," he said as though he did not recognize Elandra.

"Great Gault, man!" Caelan cried. "The empress! Your sovereign ruler."

"Yes, of course," Sien said, blinking. "Her arrival is unexpected. It will alter things-" Breaking off his sentence, he seemed to recover his court manners. With a slight bow, he gestured toward the doorway behind him. "This way."

Caelan strode forward without hesitation. Beyond the doorway, a flight of steps descended steeply. He could see a feeble glow of light below, and he went down the steps as fast as he could with his burden. Behind him, he heard a low murmur of voices as though Sien was giving Agel a set of instructions.

I am mad to come here, Caelan thought, but he shoved his doubts away. There was no choice. He could not reason with the Madruns, or ask for civilized treatment if they were to take Elandra prisoner. They would defile and kill her, and the very thought of such a fate made him tighten his hold involuntarily. Caelan thought, but he shoved his doubts away. There was no choice. He could not reason with the Madruns, or ask for civilized treatment if they were to take Elandra prisoner. They would defile and kill her, and the very thought of such a fate made him tighten his hold involuntarily.

He would not fail this woman, he vowed silently, still going down steps. He would not.

At the bottom of the steps, he stopped and gazed around apprehensively. The place was featureless, swept clean. Aside from the small lamp on its pedestal, he saw no furnishings. Three doors surrounded him, all firmly shut. The smell down here was worse, hinting of decay and death.

He could tell himself that it was only the stench a.s.sociated with blood sacrifices, that entrails for the auguries had to be cleaned and disposed of somewhere, that carca.s.ses of dead animals had to be butchered for daily distribution to the poor.

But his instincts knew there was more to the smell than innocent surface explanations. There was something darker at work down here. Something he did not want to meet, or know.

He swallowed hard, half-ready to retreat, but Sien joined him and walked across to a door carved with the faces of unnamed spirits. He pulled it open.

"Through here. Is she injured?"

"I don't know," Caelan replied, carrying her through.

He found himself in a narrow pa.s.sageway, unlit except for the lamplight cast from behind him. When Sien shut the door, they were plunged into cold darkness.

"Wait," Sien said, and a second later a dim radiance appeared. It spread, pushing back the encompa.s.sing darkness.

The light glowed from Sien's left hand, faint but steady, just enough to show their way.

Caelan found his heartbeat thudding too fast. He swallowed again, but it did not ease the dryness in his throat.

"You were nearly too late," the priest remarked. "They will be leaving soon. Or so they intended before you led the Madruns here. Now there may not be an opportunity. We are not as well hidden down here as we should be."

"What do you mean?" Caelan asked quickly with a sharp look at the priest. "Is the emperor here?"

"Of course."

Caelan blinked, too astonished at his luck to speak.

It was Sien's turn to frown at him. "Is that not why you brought her to the temple?"

Confused, Caelan swung his gaze away. "Yes. But I- I thought we were too late."

"You nearly were. If she is hurt, I had better examine her. Or let Agel attend her. It will not do for the emperor to see her in this state."

Unwillingly Caelan halted. He knelt and gently propped the girl against his knee, supporting her while Sien bent over her.

She looked so young and vulnerable. Even smudged with dirt and soot, she was breathtaking. He could have gazed at her for hours, marveling at the delicacy of her bone structure, at the wide, clear expanse of her brow, at the thick crescent of her dark lashes against her cheekbones. Tall and slender, she lay against him with no more weight than a feather. Even in her bedraggled clothes and tangled hair, her high lineage showed plainly in her narrow wrists and ankles, in the tapering perfection of her hands that all evening had gripped his with such strength and determination.

Caelan prayed for her now, worried that the shadow had damaged her irreparably.

"It was choking her," he said softly. "I don't-"

"What was?" Sien asked.

Only then did Caelan realize he had spoken aloud. He looked up and met the priest's yellow gaze. An unnameable fear took hold of Caelan's entrails and squeezed, but he forced himself not to look away.

"A shadow," he replied. "A shadow of a man, but unattached to anyone alive or present."

Sien did not seem surprised. He went on gazing into Caelan's eyes as though to probe to his very soul. "Was it?" he asked.

His voice held only interest, nothing more.

Suspicion came alive in Caelan. He frowned. "You-"

"It did not act by my command," Sien said, lifting his hand. "Cast no accusations at me."

His remarks confirmed Caelan's suspicions. "So you can can command these creatures?" he asked. "You can bring them away from the person who casts them and make them do your bidding?" command these creatures?" he asked. "You can bring them away from the person who casts them and make them do your bidding?"

Sien frowned at the empress, letting his hands hover just above her. "What is this material, this cloak?" he asked. "I cannot touch her."

"Her cloak is Mahiran-made," Caelan said. He found it interesting that the cloak's spell could repel the priest. That alone told Caelan to not trust Sien. Not that he intended to anyway. He wished she had been wearing her hood. Perhaps then the shadow could not have reached her throat.

"For someone so young, she is remarkably resourceful," Sien said.

"Yes, she is. And I asked you if you can separate men from their shadows."

Looking cool and unruffled by Caelan's questions, Sien went on gazing at the empress. "You are an unbeliever," he replied. "I have no answers to give you."

"But did you set this thing loose on her?" Caelan persisted with growing horror.

"No."

"Do you know who-or what-did?"

Again Sien paused to glance at him. "An interesting phrasing of that question. What is your name, guardsman?"

Caelan was surprised that Sien had forgotten him. "Caelan E'non."

"Ah, yes. You were rejected by this lady as a possible protector. Yet here you are. How interesting." There was an idle note of amus.e.m.e.nt woven in Sien's tone.

Caelan caught it, and his lips tightened. "You toy with me, Lord Sien," he said grimly. "You know me from before that. You have seen me often at the heels of my former master."

"Yes, I have. And now you serve the empress instead. Although you were not her chosen protector, and you do not wear her colors."

"Rander Malk is dead," Caelan said evasively. "Killed by shadows. Will she recover?"