The Complete Twilight Reign Ebook Collection (97 page)

Shart lay on the floor, the major kneeling over him, pressing hard on his chest. Mikiss could see blood all around him.

The major’s face was grim when he looked up. ‘Purn, can your magic help him?’

The necromancer laid a hand on Shart’s bloodied face. He shook his head. ‘Your man is dead. I could have him up and walking in half a minute, but I doubt you would appreciate it.’ He didn’t have to go into detail.

Before anyone could move, a group of men rounded the corner of the house, weapons held low against whatever they were likely to meet. They stopped dead when they saw the Menin soldiers. The sight of six men, one probably dead, rather than a horde of daemons, left them momentarily confused.

One man said something and the rest closed ranks, in anticipation of attack. Keneg obliged with a roar and Major Amber ran to his side, followed by Nai, who abandoned his bag of books and snatched up Shart’s axe from the ground. Keneg battered aside one pike-head and decapitated its owner without a pause. The major followed suit before anyone else had the chance to attack.

Then Mikiss found himself screaming a warning - a woman was sprinting around the corner after the soldiers. He couldn’t work out what she thought she could achieve, for she carried no weapons … She was making straight for Keneg, who raised his sword and stood ready. The woman didn’t slow her charge, but her body blurred and dropped low to all fours with astonishing speed and Keneg’s blade met nothing as a huge lioness came up under his guard and slapped one razor-sharp clawed paw into his gut. The lioness buried its teeth Into Keneg’s forearm and used its great weight to bear him to the ground

Major Amber rushed to join the attack, but the lioness pulled Keneg, howling in pain, out of reach, dragging him by the arm as if he were a rag-doll. Amber raised his sword, preparing to rush the lioness, when another group of soldiers rounded the corner, led by a second woman brandishing two swords.

Put up your weapons,’ the woman shouted, the men behind her spreading out. On her left was a nobleman, dressed as if for a state banquet but clearly able to use the needle-sharp rapier in his hand.

‘Fucking animal,’ Keneg bellowed, swinging his free arm around to punch the lioness in the throat with all the strength of a desperate man.

Major Amber stood ready against the oncoming soldiers as Keneg struggled to his feet, trying to buy them some space, all thoughts of his own safety long vanished. Once upright, Keneg charged forward, swinging wildly at the lioness, who growled at him and retreated, leaving him facing the other woman. He screamed a challenge at her and rushed in, but she parried his blows with ease, her twin blades moving in perfect unison.

Finally Keneg gasped and sank to his knees, his fury gone in a shudder of pain. The woman hardly broke her stride as she spun around and pierced his body, heart and lung. He heaved one great hacking cough, gouts of blood erupting from his mouth, and sank to the ground.

‘Gentlemen.’ Yet another woman stepped forward from behind the attackers, dressed as a member of the White Circle. She carried no weapons and wore no armour, but there was a grim promise in her voice as she said, ‘I suggest you drop your weapons immediately, I am in no mood to play games.’

Purn stepped forward. ‘And I suggest you get out of our way or I will summon the daemons walking this place to destroy you.’ Mikiss saw the deep red glow radiating from the necromancer’s eyes again.

‘Oh, spare me,’ the woman growled, pushing her shawl back to reveal lustrous black hair and elegant features. ‘They might be daemons, but they’re not stupid.’

Purn gave a yelp and staggered back, one hand raised as though to ward off a blow. The woman, bristling with barely restrained anger, stepped towards them, apparently completely unafraid of the weapons they still carried.

Purn gave an unintelligible cry and turned to flee, diving for the bag of books Nai had dropped and hunkering low over them as shadows from all sides appeared up to envelop him.

When the shadows faded away, the necromancer Isherin Purn was nowhere to be seen.

The woman with the short swords started to move forward but stopped at a raised finger from the White Circle mage.

‘No, forget him; he’ll not have gone far, and with luck he’ll deal with some of the creatures he released here so I won’t have to bother.’ She bestowed a glittering smile on Major Amber, Mikiss and Nai.

Mikiss felt himself shy away from her look as a sense of horror flooded his mind and the fingers holding his sword went numb. ‘Now, gentlemen; please be good boys and come quietly.’

Not far away, Abbot Dorn sat in his study behind locked and barred doors, fearfully watching the wildly flickering light cast by an oil lamp on the wall beyond. His hands shook as he felt the heavy footfalls of daemons walking the Land and heard their voices echo out on the rushing streams of magic. Despite the unnatural heat, he felt the room grow cold and the shadows deepen. There was no breeze in the cellar, but the lamp suddenly guttered down to almost nothing, leaving only a trembling finger of light. The abbot reached under the table that served as his desk and slipped open the box there. He withdrew the Crystal Skull and cupped it in both hands, as afraid of the power it contained as he was of the shadows drawing closer.

As soon as he touched the Skull, he realised his mistake: every one of the horrors walking Scree’s festering streets noticed the change in the magic-laden atmosphere and turned to find him.

‘We see you.’ The words whispered around the cellar.

Abbot Doren whimpered and turned around wildly, trying to see whoever was speaking, but there was nothing there. The room was locked and secure; he was alone, except for the shadows.

‘We will come for you.’

The abbot crashed into his desk, spilling books and dirty crockery onto the floor. The Skull, its surface slick against his skin, almost slipped from his hands. Pulling it close to his chest, he tentatively drew on its power. The shadows withdrew, but not far. He could feel them lingering at the edges of his mind, and around his dilapidated home.

‘We can wait,’ the voice assured him with a malevolent chuckle ‘You are all alone now, and you cannot stay strong for ever.’

‘Alone? No, I have Mayel,’ Abbot Doren muttered.

‘Alone,’ the voice continued, cold and assured, ‘in a city of enemies, hunted, and all alone … all we need do is wait.’

All through the night the abbot wept silently, hearing that soft laughter in his head. When dawn at last arrived and Mayel had still not returned, he realised the voice had been correct. He was all alone, and the darkness was waiting.

Wakefulness crept uneasily over Mikiss, beginning with an ache behind his eyes and growing into a dull pain that reached through his skull and down his spine. Though his eyes were closed, he still tried to recoil from the light that pierced his eyelids and sparked a strange sense of fear. He tried to move, and discovered that his hands were bound behind his back and his muscles almost cried with fatigue, as though he had been running through the night. His lips were crusted and he moaned with the effort needed to breathe in the dusty sweat-laced air. Exhausted beyond belief, he slumped back down.

He felt something touch his brow. Whatever it was, it felt hot and rasping on his skin, and as he flinched away from it he smelled a man near him, a scent of dirt and grease. Then a waft of perfume, near-imperceptible, reached him from further away. As he tried to recognise it, Mikiss realised how parched his throat was. From somewhere on the other side of the room a chair scraped. He felt it through the stone floor on which he was lying as much as heard it, then sandpaper hands cradled his head and raised him up.

‘Awake at last. You must be thirsty.’ A woman’s voice plucked a string inside him.

Mikiss tried to reply, but nothing came out except a wheeze. He recognised Nai as the person holding him when the necromancer’s servant said crossly, ‘Damn you, woman, after all you’ve done to him, you tease him about it?’

‘Oh, quiet now,’ the strange woman replied tartly. ‘Just because your hands are untied doesn’t mean your tongue can run loose; if it happens again, Legana will cut it out.’

Mikiss heard the swish of her skirts as the woman walked closer. ‘Here, give him some wine to drink. It won’t satisfy him, but I need him to speak a little more coherently.’

A goblet was held to his lips and Mikiss slurped greedily. When he finally managed to force his encrusted eyes open, the room was nothing more than a blur for a moment, then the outlines of people started to take shape. After a few moments he could make out Major Amber, bound as he was, lying in a corner, and two women standing before a covered window. Groggily, he sat up and tried to focus on the speaker, the woman who’d faced down Isherin Purn.

‘What have you done to me?’ Mikiss croaked. ‘Feels like I’ve been drugged. How long did I sleep?’

‘You slept most of the day, the sun is on its way down now.’

Mikiss winced as he looked at the light behind her. ‘Then why is it so bright?’

‘Because what I did to you was rather more permanent than drugging,’ she said, shrugging. ‘You are my prisoners, but I don’t care much for interrogation; it’s messy, noisy and unreliable.’

He looked up at Nai for answers and saw the strange manservant had a thunderous look on his face. Whatever she’d done, it was bad enough that even the prospect of mutilation would not cow the man.

‘I don’t understand,’ he rasped. ‘Why the light? And who are you.”

She sighed. ‘How discourteous of me. My name is Zhia Vukotic, and I hope you enjoyed the dawn yesterday, because it is the last you’ll ever see.’

‘What?’ Mikiss tried to rise, but was betrayed by exhaustion. He fell back against Nai, and as he did so, he felt something around bis neck, a bandage of some kind. He stayed silent for a few moments, then almost sobbed, ‘You’ve-‘

‘I’ve shared my curse with you, yes,’ Zhia Vukotic told him inpatiently. ‘Nai, please check the wound.’

The servant growled, but deftly unwrapped the length of material around Mikiss’ neck. As he peered down, Mikiss saw his eyes widen and he mouthed a curse before releasing Mikiss and letting him fall to the floor.

‘It’s almost healed,’ Nai said as Mikiss groaned.

‘Excellent. Now, Messenger - Mikiss - you can fight this, or you can accept what has happened and get on with it,’ the woman said, almost preening. ‘It doesn’t really matter, because my power over you is now absolute. You will answer my questions, so the only matter for debate is how much discomfort you wish to endure before you do so. Do you understand?.”

Mikiss stared at her with a glazed expression. When he turned to Nai, the servant looked both horrified and disgusted, echoed on Major Amber’s face.

‘While we’re on the subject of the current state of play, you will all do better if you accept that I own you now. You have committed capital offences in Scree - spying and necromancy - so your lives are forfeit. I offer you clemency, in the form of servitude.’ She looked at the woman beside her. ‘As Legana knows, I share my secrets only with those who have secrets of their own, but since I can hardly trust any of you yet, I have taken the precaution of placing a small enchantment on you, to prevent you repeating anything said in my presence. Do you understand?’

Mikiss looked at his companions. Nai, still defiant, said nothing; the major just shrugged his shoulders, as though a change of master meant little.

‘What do you want with us?’ Mikiss asked.

‘You will tell me about your mission in Scree,’ she said. ‘After that, I’m sure I will find a use for you.’

‘And if we don’t tell you?’

‘You no longer have the choice,’ she said apologetically, ‘not now the wound on your neck has healed.’

Mikiss’ hand flew to his neck. The skin was a little tender, but he could feel no injury.

‘My curse has you fully in its grip now,’ she went on, watching his exploration, ‘and it is now a small matter to compel you to speak, or to do exactly as I wish. So let us start. Tell me about your mission in Scree.’

As Zhia spoke those last words, Mikiss felt as though his head had been seized in a vice and wrenched upwards. The blood fizzed and boiled as he fought to keep his mouth closed; black and purple stars burst in front of his eyes until, through no volition of his own, he felt his mouth open and words began to pour out.

It didn’t take long, for Lord Styrax had told Mikiss little more than his immediate task: to find the necromancer Isherin Purn in Scree and either secure an artefact of great power from him, or through him, on Lord Styrax’s behalf, obviously, or report back on how to acquire it. The necromancer had told him little more in the brief time they were together, for he was intent on hearing all about the Menin conquest of Thotel.

When Mikiss had finished his uncontrolled babbling, the vampire looked far from satisfied.

‘So the necromancer said nothing more, other than that he was sure there was a Crystal Skull in the city?’

‘He was not so foolish as to go hunting for the bearer of such a weapon,’ Nai interjected. ‘Either it would be in the hands of a practised user, in which case his strength would not be enough, or not, in which case the wielder would most likely use it with abandon, and be unable to control the energies released.’

‘He could not tell which?’ Zhia pressed.

‘He suspected a novice, since he had detected experiments performed with the Skull.’

‘So when the opportunity came,’ mused Zhia, ‘he asked his former lord for help, no doubt hoping Styrax would send someone foolish enough to do the confrontation for him. The most likely outcome would be the death of all those involved, leaving Isherin Purn to skip through the ashes and claim his prize.’

For reasons Mikiss could not fathom, this cheered the woman immensely. She announced breezily, ‘So, we have someone running around the city with a Crystal Skull. Legana, why am I not surprised?’

The pretty dark-haired woman looked taken aback at being addressed, but she said at once, ‘Because it confirms some things and explains others. If you’ll forgive my presumption, I’m rather more interested in Purn’s original mission in the West.’ She looked at Mikiss. ‘Did you say he was Malich’s apprentice?’