Shadow Magic (33 page)

S
o that was how Lily’s family had died. Thorn’s belly knotted itself as he imagined the screams, the burning flesh. Lily thought they’d been burned after they’d been killed.

She was lucky she didn’t know the truth. At least she’d been saved that.

K’leef had sat cross-legged on the floor throughout, listening intently. “Let me guess: you were allowed to keep Lady Shadow’s jewelry as payment.”

Vyne nodded. “He set us up. With that jewelry it would be clear to anyone that we’d been behind the attack. Tyburn found us the next day. He took off one man’s head with a flick of his sword. He had guards at his back, but he hardly needed them. I could see the way the fight was going, so I jumped out the window.” He touched the side of his torso. “I got an arrow in my ribs while I was at it. An inch or so to the right and we wouldn’t be here talking. Still, I managed to stay on my feet and run into the woods. It was easy to lose them once I was among the trees.”

Thorn smiled. He couldn’t help but be proud that his dad had escaped the great and terrible Tyburn.

“I was found by these roaming folk. The arrow wound had become infected, and I was burning with a fever. I hadn’t eaten in three days. They looked after me, and bit by bit I regained my strength. I knew they were working their way south after the big fair at Castle Gloom, so I thought I’d stick with them then slowly make my way home.”

“What about the man who hired you, the sorcerer?” asked K’leef. “What did he look like?”

“Well-dressed, rich, that much was obvious. Fancy clothes, if a bit wine-stained. He stank of alcohol. He had a warrior’s build, though it had turned to blubber, and his face was all scratched up.”

The scarred man. The one Thorn had seen at Graven. The one who’d killed Rose. And now he knew he was behind these murders, too. Thorn was looking at a jigsaw and could see a picture forming; he just needed a few more pieces. “Would you recognize him if you saw him again?”

“No, it’s not like that. It wasn’t his real face I saw.”

“What do you mean?”

“It was a mask.”

K’leef frowned. “Why wear a mask?”

“Why else? He didn’t want us to know who he was. That way, if we were caught, we wouldn’t be able to identify him.”

“What sort of mask?” Thorn asked.

“A broken one, made outta stone. What I first thought were scars were the cracks.”

A broken mask? Why wear a broken mask?

Unless the mask itself was special…

Thorn punched the wagon wall as the pieces fell into place. “We’ve been fools! All this time we’ve been thinking the scarred man was some powerful sorcerer, but he’s not—he’s a nobody. An
anybody
, if what Lily told us in the Shadow Library was true.”

K’leef interrupted. “That’s ridiculous, Thorn. Your father just said he saw him cast black flames against Lord Shadow. That’s not the work of a ‘nobody’; that’s a very important somebody indeed.”

“Don’t you get it, K’leef? It’s not the person, it’s the
mask
,” argued Thorn. He knew without a doubt that he was right. “Was it made of
black
stone, Dad?”

“That’s right. Like polished marble.”

Richly dressed in clothes covered in wine. Alcohol-soaked. A hideous, smashed-up mask. Thorn had seen it, held it, even. At the fair, the night Rose had died.

The night the “scarred man” had killed her, too.

“Obsidian,” said Thorn. “The Mask of Astaroth. He must have found it and put it together.”

“Who?” asked K’leef, confused.

Thorn continued. “Lord Shadow wasn’t saying ‘Pain.’ He was pointing at his murderer when he spoke. He was saying his name.”

“Name?” said Vyne. “He knew his murderer?”

Thorn jumped up. “I’ve got to get back to Castle Gloom. Lily’s in danger. We’ve left her alone with him, and she doesn’t know!”

“Who, Thorn?” asked Dad.

“Pan. That’s what he was saying.
Pan
. Lord Shadow was killed by his own brother.”

There was a moment of stunned silence while they all absorbed this dreadful information.

Then, “With Lily dead, he’ll be the next Lord Shadow,” said K’leef. “And with the mask he’ll be unstoppable.”

“That’s what he was doing in Graven: raising the dead. Testing out his powers,” added Thorn. The very man he expected to protect Lily was planning to kill her!

They hurried down the steps and back into camp. The music still played, and men and women danced by, but Thorn could only think of the distance back to Castle Gloom. A day’s ride on a horse, but on Hades? An hour? Maybe two?

A man stepped out from behind a tree, but Thorn barely noticed him. Just another roamer.

The man drew his sword as he approached Vyne, and Thorn turned as the steel glinted in the light. The sword rose up. “Look out, Dad!”

The man rammed the pommel into Vyne’s temple, and Vyne collapsed with a groan.

Thorn blinked, unable to believe who stood in front of him.

Tyburn!

“No!” Thorn threw himself at the executioner, but Tyburn sidestepped and Thorn crashed into the ground, whacking his head against a mud-covered rock.

Eyes bleary with pain, Thorn tried to focus on what was happening.

Tyburn stood over the unconscious Vyne and nodded with satisfaction. “I knew you’d lead me to your father, sooner or later.”

T
horn’s skull throbbed. He touched his forehead and his fingers were bloody. “You…were right behind us?”

Tyburn clamped a pair of iron cuffs on Vyne. “It’s easy for a man to track his own horse.” He then inspected Thorn’s injury. “Nothing too serious.”

“Not that it matters, right?” Thorn snapped.

“I suppose not.”

The roaming folk had gathered around. No one intervened; they all knew Tyburn, and it wasn’t wise to interfere in the business of an executioner.

But not everyone was wise.

Maximilian barged his way to the front of the watchful mob. “What’s going on?” He looked Tyburn up and down, clearly unimpressed. “No refunds!”

K’leef spoke up. “You’ve got this wrong, Master Tyburn. Thorn’s father didn’t kill the Shadows. It was the earl.”

“Forgive me if I don’t believe you, m’lord.”

“Let my son go.” Vyne struggled to his feet. “You’ve got me, and let that be the end of it.”

“That’s not how it works. Thorn aided a traitor—K’leef—so all three of you must suffer the same fate.” Tyburn glanced at him. “I’ll make it quick, boy. You won’t feel a thing.”

K’leef joined Thorn and put his hand on his shoulder. Thorn didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. They were all going to die together, but K’leef didn’t seem afraid.

“You’re a blind fool, Tyburn,” said the Sultanate boy. “You’ve left Lily unprotected, just when she needs you most. All so you could chase us through the woods.”

Had anyone ever spoken to Tyburn like that before? Thorn seriously doubted it.

K’leef wasn’t finished. “Go ahead, put our heads on spikes. That’s all you’re good for. But know this: Lily will be dead by morning, and you will have failed. Then…what is the point of you?”

Thorn could see there was something—hesitation, perhaps; maybe doubt—in Tyburn’s eyes.

“You’d better explain your thinking,” said the executioner. “What do you claim the earl is up to?”

“He hired this man”—K’leef gestured to Thorn’s dad—“and five other men to ambush Lord Shadow. Lord Shadow, the most powerful necromancer in the New Kingdoms. Did you never stop to wonder how six half-starved brigands could kill such a sorcerer?”

Tyburn looked unsure. “Lady Shadow’s jewelry was found on them. Tracks led from the site of the murder straight to their hideout.”

“How very convenient,” said K’leef.

Tyburn shook his head. “Earl Pan is a drunk and feeble fool. He doesn’t have the stomach for anything but wine, and he does not have the power. Everyone knows that he has no magic.”

“He has both the stomach and the power,” said Thorn. “He’s found the Mask of Astaroth. I saw him with it at the fair.” Thorn was careful not to mention that Lily saw him with it, too, when she probed Rose’s memories. He continued. “The mask must have been smashed when Astaroth was first defeated. Pan put it back together, and he’s using the magic stored in it. That gives him all the power of the ancient necromancers, the greatest sorcerers of House Shadow. Lily’s dad never stood a chance. Pan’s been using it all over Gehenna. He’s the scarred man I saw in Graven, commanding the zombies.” Thorn faced Tyburn. “Lily’s my friend and she’s in terrible danger and that’s the whole truth. If you don’t believe me, then cut my head off right here and now and be done with it.”

Tyburn frowned. “It just doesn’t seem possible….”

Thorn’s heart sank. He didn’t believe them.

Then help came from the most unlikely source.

“They’re telling the truth.” Maximilian had his hand raised. “I sold the mask to the earl.”

“What?” exclaimed Tyburn.

“I thought it was junk! How was I to know?” said Maximilian. “Last year, just before Halloween, I showed the earl this chest of, er…rubbish that I’d gotten off a nomad from the Shardlands. The earl started drooling, I swear. He took these pieces of a mask, made of obsidian, I think, and pushed a hundred sovereigns into my hand. How was I to know it actually
was
magical?” He kicked a stone angrily. “If I had, I would have asked for double.”

Thorn turned to Tyburn. He had to believe them now.

But Tyburn wasn’t listening. Not to them, anyway. He cocked his head toward the path.

Thorn knew better than to speak now.

Fire crackled. A piglet’s skin hissed on the spit. The wind rustled the leaves.

Wait…

Hoofbeats. The jangle of armor.

Tyburn drew his sword.

A scream broke the night’s quiet. A roamer stumbled back from the crest that hid the camp from the road. He fell and slid down the leafy slope.

A crossbow quarrel jutted out of his back.

“Get down, boy!” Tyburn threw himself over Thorn, knocking them both to the ground as quarrels thrummed through the air and Black Guard riders charged into the camp.

C
rossbowmen emerged from behind trees and shot off another volley; the air hissed with their deadly missiles. The riders wheeled around, slashing left and right with their swords. More men screamed and died. The gypsies ran, some for safety into the trees, others to grab weapons.

Tyburn slapped a key into Thorn’s hand. “Go free your father.”

“I told you he was innocent, but you didn’t—”

“Get on with it.”

A horse trampled through the bonfire, kicking flaming branches everywhere.

Thorn, head down, sprinted to his dad and unlocked the manacles. Vyne rubbed his wrists as he glanced around frantically. Then he grabbed Thorn’s arm and started to pull him toward the nearest wagon. “Slide yourself under and stay there, no matter what happens.”

Thorn twisted out of his father’s grip and picked up a thick fallen branch. “I want to fight, I can—”

“
Now
, Thorn!”

Horses whinnied and spun as the riders searched for their targets. A horseman saw Thorn and charged. Thorn didn’t have time to run. He raised his branch, knowing it was useless.

Suddenly, the horseman’s reins burst into flames. His mount, startled by the fire, reared and threw him off. Thorn ran up and smacked the branch into the man’s helmet. The rider went limp.