Shards of Time (24 page)

Alec thought he saw a fleeting look of relief on the man’s face as Sedge nodded, and who could blame him?

Lamps had been lit in the palace corridors. In spite of all the renovations, the place still had a dead, unlived-in feel at night. As he followed Seregil and Micum back to the royal suite, Alec couldn’t help thinking of all the hundreds of unoccupied rooms stretching out around them—rooms where anything could be lurking. The memory of their nocturnal visitor at Mirror Moon sent an unwelcome chill up his spine.

“I’m sure it will work,” Seregil said as they paused outside the chamber door.

“What?” Alec realized he’d pulled the amulet from his shirt and was fingering it nervously. Tucking it away, he squared his shoulders and pushed the door open, leading the way inside.

The room beyond was dark and cold. Alec pulled the lightstone from his tool roll and found a box of slender tapers on the receiving room mantel. Micum lit one from a lamp in the corridor and soon every candle and lamp in the room was shining brightly and a cheerful fire was crackling on the hearth. They uncovered several chairs and a settee and pushed them over by the fire.

“That’s more like it!” Micum said, rubbing his hands.

“I guess we should check the rest of the rooms,” said Alec.

Seregil gave him a wry, knowing look. “If it’s any comfort, this place scares me, too.”

“You’d be touched in the head not to be,” Micum put in.

“It’s not that. I just—I don’t know.” Alec stood and settled his sword belt on his hip. “But I do know we’re not going to learn much hiding here by the fire. Shouldn’t we check out the bedchamber?”

Alec took the lead as they walked down the short passageway to the bath, coming to a stop outside the death chamber. Even with the door closed, he caught a whiff of the stench inside through the large keyhole. It was only then that they
realized that Zella had locked the door again and forgotten to give them the key.

“Allow me,” said Seregil, taking out a stout lock pick.

“Alec, hold the light closer, would you?” Seregil quickly jiggered the lock. “Ready?” he asked, grasping the latch.

Alec and Micum drew their swords, more out of habit than any expectation that what might be lurking on the other side would be affected by cold steel.

Seregil swung the door open and Alec held up his light.

“Do you see that?” Micum whispered.

“See what?” asked Seregil.

“There! In the far corner.”

Alec shifted the light and then froze as it fell across a tall, black shrouded figure.

As they stood watching, it slowly turned to face them. Fathomless darkness took the place of head and face. A horrible, rasping laugh bubbled out of that darkness and in the blink of an eye it was across the room, reaching for Alec. Alec slashed at it with his sword but connected with nothing. It threw long, misjointed arms around him and for a moment he was overwhelmed by a noxious, rotting-flesh foulness and horrible coldness.

Its insidious voice tickled his ear with incomprehensible words as icy needle-tipped fingers clutched at his throat. Alec’s sword and light slipped from numbed fingers. His tongue was like wood as he tried to gasp out a plea to Illior but he could not make a sound. The world was beginning to go dark when suddenly a shriek pierced the air and the shadowy figure was gone. As his wits slowly returned, he found himself on the floor, clutching at Seregil and Micum as they supported him.

Seregil’s face was a mask of terror as he repeated
“Aura Elustri!”
over and over again.

“I—I’m all right,” Alec croaked, finding his voice at last. “Was that a dra’gorgos?”

Seregil let out an unsteady laugh. “It certainly was. We’ll have to thank Thero and Mika for these amulets. It appears they work, after all.”

“What was it doing here?”

“Waiting for someone to come poking around, most likely,” Micum suggested.

“More likely it was hunting, looking for more people to steal,” Seregil said, holding Alec’s hand in a hard grip a moment longer than he needed to.

Alec picked up his fallen sword and slid it into its sheath, more shaken than he wanted to admit. “Well, we came to look around, so let’s look around.”

Seregil and Micum took out lightstones and the combined glow lit the room bright as day. Someone had removed the dead owl, but otherwise the room looked just as it had. The dried blood spattered and smeared over every surface showed black in this light. The carpet was crusty with it.

They were still examining the ruined furnishings when a soft voice from the direction of the doorway said “How dare you!”

A beautiful woman in a richly embroidered Skalan nightgown stood there, staring at them with a haughty disdain. Her face was pale, her dark hair tumbled in disarray around her shoulders. “What are you three doing in here?”

“My lady, what are
you
doing here?” Micum asked, hurrying over to her. “Please, come away from—” He went to take her hand but his passed through hers easy as air. He pulled back a step, but remained gallant. “Who are you, my lady?”

She looked down in confusion at the hand he’d tried to touch. “What is happening?”

Seregil stepped in beside Micum and bowed. “Duchess Seria? I am Baron Seregil of Mirror Moon, at your service.”

A chill climbed Alec’s spine, stirring the short hairs on his neck. Duchess Seria had died with Toneus in this chamber.

“I have no need of your service, sir. Why are you in my chamber and where is—?” She broke off, looking momentarily confused.

“Who were you with?” asked Seregil.

She looked baffled. “He was here a moment ago.”

“Archduke Toneus, my lady?”

“Yes, that’s right.” She looked around the room, then brushed by the three of them and went to the bed. The condition
of the room did not seem to appall her; she just looked pensive and lost and not in the least frightened.

“My lady, when did you last see the archduke?” he asked.

“I left him here when—” She looked around the room, increasingly distraught. “We were here, in bed. Then I met you three.” She pressed her hands to her cheeks. “What is happening? What have you done with him?”

“He wasn’t here when we arrived,” Seregil said gently. “We are looking for him, as well. What’s the last thing you remember?”

“I told you, we had retired for the night. That’s all.”

“Then we won’t disturb you any longer, my lady.” Seregil made her a graceful bow as if they were at court, extending his hand. She took it, or tried to, only to have her fingers pass through his as they had Micum’s.

“My lady,” Alec began. “My dear lady, I’m so sorry to tell you but—”

“Alec, no,” Seregil murmured.

“But what?” Seria demanded, clasping her hands under her chin as she stared down at Seregil’s in disbelief.

“The archduke stepped out for some air,” Seregil told her. “He may be some time.”

She gave him a relieved smile. “Oh, I see. Thank you, my lord. Things are so strange tonight. Please, if you see him, tell him to hurry back.” With that she lay down on what was left of the mattress and disappeared.

Micum passed a hand over his chin and shook his head. “I didn’t think they could look so real.”

“She cast no shadow,” said Seregil. “Keep that in mind. I suspect she’s not the last ghost we’ll be seeing here.”

Thero awoke with a start just after dawn to find Seregil, Alec, and Micum standing anxiously by Mika’s cot. The boy’s color had returned, but he had an impressive black eye under the head bandage. He still lay on his back, splinted arm across his chest.

“Bilairy’s Balls!” Seregil whispered, bending over Mika.

“Your message said he’d had an accident. What happened?”

Throwing back the blankets, Thero drew a cloak over his
rumpled clothing and led them outside to talk. It was a cold, foggy morning, the mist so thick that they could barely see other tents nearby. There was a watch fire burning unattended, and they gathered around it for warmth.

“Apparently he met some locals and one of them attacked him,” Thero explained. “He fell and struck his head on a stone. Did you find anything?”

“Only dust and ghost stories, at first,” Alec replied. “But then we saw a dra’gorgos in the royal bedchamber. Your amulets saved us, Thero. It tried to attack me, but then it disappeared.”

“We’d hardly recovered from that when we met the shade of Duchess Seria,” said Micum. “She doesn’t know she’s dead, poor thing.”

“I see. Any sign of the archduke’s ghost?” asked Thero.

“No,” said Seregil. “We spent the rest of the night watching, but there was no sign of him, or anything else.”

“Tell me more about the dra’gorgos. What was it doing there?”

“Looking for someone to steal,” said Micum. “It nearly got Alec, but for your magic.”

“Yes, thank you,” said Seregil. “Now, are you going to tell us what exactly happened to Mika?”

Thero explained how he’d found the boy by the river.

“Did Mika say where those two came from?” asked Micum.

“I wish I knew. I haven’t had much of a chance to talk with him. He was very distraught. We don’t need that kind of trouble around camp.”

“That’s something to consider.”

“Stay with him,” Seregil advised. “We’ll go have a look around.”

The camp was quiet except for the familiar kitchen sounds. A few cooks were already up, brewing large buckets of tea and cooking ash cakes. Seregil charmed one of them out of three steaming mugs and a plate of hot cakes.

They ate quickly, then made their way through the fog to the riverbank.

“This could be the large rock Thero spoke of,” said Micum, pointing at a dark shape in the fog.

Upon closer inspection it did appear to be the right one.

“Here’s where he fell and struck his head,” Micum pointed out, nudging a smaller stone half embedded in the earth with the toe of his boot. “You can still see the blood on it. And the ground is soft enough that you can still see footprints.”

They examined the traces more closely, trying to piece together what had happened. The soft spring grass and wildflowers were pressed down where Mika had lain, and where Thero had knelt beside him; everything was covered with heavy dew, which had not been disturbed since. Small, deep toe prints that ended just short of the large stone showed where Mika had been running at the end. Tracing these back, they went about ten yards between the road and riverbank before losing the trail.

“That’s odd,” Seregil mused as they cast about, looking for more prints. “The way Thero told it, the attacker chased Mika and the younger one. There’s no sign of anyone else with him.”

“Maybe they didn’t come this far?” Micum suggested. “Or Mika made that bit up.”

Micum gave him a surprised look. “You think Mika lied? Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know. But you’re a better tracker than I am, and you don’t see signs of anyone else, do you?”

“No. Maybe he dreamed them, after he hit his head?”

“That’s more likely than him lying.” Seregil stared down at the single set of footprints. “But he was definitely running before he fell. I’m thinking you should spend the day with him, Alec. You’re closest to his age and he trusts you. Maybe you can get more out of him.”

Alec frowned. “Not go back into Menosi with you, you mean?”

“Just for today. If there’s a faction of Plenimaran sympathizers out here among the country people, they could mean to make trouble for Klia. Micum and I will keep to daylight.”

“I’ll see what I can do. But you be careful.”

Back at camp they found Klia and the camp drysian with Thero and Mika. The boy was sitting up in bed, sipping broth one-handed from a bowl under the watchful eye of the healer. Thero sat beside him, watching with apparent concern.

“I’m glad you’re safely back,” said Klia. “We had a bit of a rough night here, as you can see.”

“Did you see any ghosts?” Mika asked hopefully.

Alec glanced at Thero, who nodded slightly.

“We did, that of a very sad lady,” Alec told Mika. “But what about you? Looks like you went off and had an adventure without us. What happened?”

“He’s about to tell us,” said Thero. “Finish your medicine first, Mika.”

The boy gulped down the rest of his broth, and the drysian bowed and took her leave.

“So, what happened?” Alec prompted, sitting down on the floor by the bed. Seregil swung the desk chair over for Micum, then leaned on the tent pole.

“I went down to the river after you all went into the city—” Mika began.

“But why?” asked Klia.

Mika gave a little shrug. “I was bored, I guess. And it wasn’t
very
far. Master Thero isn’t angry at me for that, are you, Master?”

“No, I’m not. But we do need to hear everything that happened. Think carefully.”

Mika gave the wizard a relieved look. “Well, I was sitting on the big rock when a boy my size came by. He couldn’t talk, but we played together on the riverbank for a long time. We had fun and ran and played in the water and he even showed me how to catch fish and little lobsters with my hands.”

Thero raised an eyebrow. “Lobsters?” Micum smiled. “Crayfish, most likely. Go on, then what happened?”