The Palace Job (41 page)

"I'm dead, not dense, wizard." The zombie inhaled carefully in order to let out a snort, which left a little of the zombie's nose on the ground. "You needed the soul of an Archvoyant to get something in the palace."

No sense lying to him. "Actually, we needed your specific aura. Your great-grandson is Archvoyant now, and we're going to convince the security wards—"

"Sure, sure. So, the kid's the Archvoyant?" The zombie snorted again. No nose came off this time. "He was a nasty little bastard at six. Becoming an Archvoyant didn't make him any nicer, I bet."

Hessler blinked. "I thought you'd be proud to see your lineage continue."

"Hah!" Silestin Senior paused to pick up a tooth and stick it back into place. "I became an Archvoyant because I killed enough Old Kingdom Royals to keep the country safe. Don't get me wrong; power's lovely. But I'd hoped my line might do more than cling to what I won."

Hessler shook his head. It wasn't every day that he was surprised by a zombie.

"Are they they gone?" Loch asked.

Dairy nodded. They were making their way toward the grand ballroom where the important people were, except that more guards had run by, and Loch had pulled Dairy into a storage closet.

Back when he'd lived on the farm, an exciting day was one when the cows had a baby calf. Well, that and the time when the blood-gargoyles had come in the night and picked mean old Burstin up by the throat and asked him where the orphan boy with the birthmark was while Dairy lay hidden in the hayloft.

"Good," Loch said. "We're close enough to the party. Keep the door shut."

"W-what are you doing, Miss Loch?" Dairy asked. He was having trouble forgetting about Loch in the chains talking in a much different voice from the one she usually used. She had talked about her neck. It had been a life-changing conversation for a boy Dairy's age.

"Giving you today's lesson," Loch said, and then did nothing to dispel Dairy's daydreams when she started ripping her clothes off. "Today's lesson, Dairy, is about the difference between
is
and
should."

"Um," said Dairy desperately.

A sleeve decorated with fluffy lace fell to the floor. "When I was your age, I was all caught up in
should.
I
should
get to dress however I liked." The other sleeve joined it. "I
should
get to be a general in the army if I had the skill." A bunch of frilly lace along the hem fell away in a spray of ribbon. "I
should
get to do anything I've got the ability to do."

Dairy slowly realized that it wasn't the whole dress coming apart, just parts of it. Specifically, the frilly poofy parts.

"When I left home to join the army, I found out about what
is.
A general
is
someone all the troops can love and respect, and if all the troops can't love and respect an Urujar woman, then the general
is
a white man." Loch reached up to her neckline and peeled away the frills, as well as a lot of neckline. "A colonel
is
in charge, even if you worked your way up and he walked in as an earl and got his bars the same afternoon." She pulled on the side of her dress, and a thin slit appeared, working its way up from her ankle-length hem to well past the knee. "And a baroness
is
a woman in a killer dress, even if she'd rather be wearing riding leathers."

She tossed the big hat away and let her dark hair pool around her shoulders.

"You're... you're a baroness!" Dairy blurted.

The dress she
had
worn had made Miss Loch look silly. Now it was a form-fitting copper gown that showed off muscled shoulders and well-toned legs. With the red-gold of the dress against her rich dark skin, she looked like a hunting cat.

"As it happens," she said with a slow smile, "I am. But what I
really am
is more comfortable with good boots than silly ornamental slippers and a dress with a ridiculous neckline. This is a disguise, kid. It's just playing make-believe. Now come on. Escort me to the party."

She held out her hand, and her make-believe attendant took it in trembling fingers.

Icy and Tern found the secret panel quickly enough, and a bookshelf along the back wall slid aside to reveal a passage that led them to the most perplexing room either of them had ever seen.

"This would indeed appear to be the crystal lattice to which we were directed," Icy said slowly.

"I don't know, Icy. There might be another room made of giant crystal pillars somewhere else."

The walls of the enormous chamber were unfurnished, and the floor was bare, which was probably because the floor was made entirely of intricately paned crystal that flared with dazzling light in all the colors of the rainbow. The ceiling appeared to consist of a massive series of chandeliers, until Icy looked closely and realized that they were actually overlapping growths of magical crystal sprouting from the ceiling in patterns too complex for the mind to understand.

"And we are to disable this device?" Icy asked.

"This seemed
so
much more reasonable when it was a small little box drawn on a cocktail napkin." Tern kept looking at the shimmering patterns on the floor. "Desidora said there'd be a control panel. Do you see a control panel?"

Icy pointed absently at a small hub of glowing crystal studs set into a dais. It was on a raised platform at the far side of the room, a good forty feet away.

"I suspect," he said, "that simply walking across the room would raise an alarm."

Tern drew a pinch of powder from a small pouch and tossed it onto the crystal. It sizzled when it touched the floor, exploding into tiny multicolored puffs of smoke. "You know, it looks like something they don't
have
to alarm."

Icy digested this. Icy looked back up at the ceiling, approximately fifteen feet overhead, but with crystals poking down at various angles. "It is possible," he said slowly, "that I could leap up and catch hold of a crystal spur overhead, then leap from one spur to another and make my way across the ceiling." He frowned thoughtfully. "That particular section halfway across will likely be tricky. I may have to hurl myself at the wall and then leap back onto that
other
spur, as that particular handhold only appears to be accessible from—"

"I could just fire a grappling line across the room," Tern suggested.

Icy let out a breath. "I believe that would be simpler."

Tern grinned and dug out a grappling bolt. "But you weren't nervous." She loaded her crossbow, braced the base of the grappling line against the doorframe, took careful aim at the wall beyond the control panel, and fired.

The bolt exploded into sizzling flame midway through the room.

"Son of a bitch! Those are reusable!"

"Some sort of alarm system or latent magical energy?" Icy asked.

"No, Icy, I really cranked the hell out of it to build up speed, and the air resistance superheated the grapple."

Icy frowned.

"Yes," Tern muttered, "it's an alarm or the magic in the room. Hold on." She reached into a pocket, took out an iron bar, and pitched it into the room. It flew without trouble past the control console, bounced off the wall, slid back onto the crystal floor, and exploded into vivid green flame before disintegrating. "Velocity based. You should be fine to do those incredible acrobatics you weren't nervous about."

"While I am certainly capable of such maneuvers," Icy pointed out, "can we be confident that the crystal spurs on the ceiling will not react in the same manner as the floor?"

Tern tossed up the base of her now-disintegrated grappling line. It caught on a crystal spur and hung without evident distress. "All you, Icy."

"I shall perform a few stretching exercises first," Icy said. "This should not delay us significantly."

"Kail's been trying hard to teach you to lie, huh?"

The knife took Ululenia in the shoulder, and she stumbled back, gasping in pain. The being's thoughts had barely given Ululenia enough warning to avoid the killing blow, and she focused desperately on the mind nearby.

Sensed me before I struck.
The shadowy figure cocked its head.
Doesn't move like a warrior, but perhaps she arrogant apple, babbling brook, creep—

Then the mind snapped shut to Ululenia's senses as the figure rippled, like a reflection in a pond when a stone strikes the surface, and vanished into nothing.

One hand pressed to her bleeding shoulder, Ululenia looked around, then ran.

Ahead of her, the door slammed shut.

"Not so fast," came a voice, and Ululenia stumbled to a halt. "We aren't finished, you and I."

"You should seek gentler prey," Ululenia hissed. The mind was gone to her now, and unless the figure talked, she had nothing.

"You're no warrior," the figure taunted from Ululenia's left, and she spun. "With that wound, you'll be unconscious in minutes."

"Doubtful." Ululenia turned to run in the other direction, and another door slammed shut. No mortal man could have moved so quickly. "I sense not the aura of the fey from you, but you are no mortal."

"You're catching on," came the voice, very close now, and as Ululenia darted back, the figure added, "and you shouldn't run. You'll make that wound bleed out faster."

"What wound?" Ululenia held up her arm. The gown shimmered faintly, but no trace of blood remained.

"Shapeshifter," the voice hissed. "I'll make sure the next strike is lethal."

Ululenia backed up slowly until her back bumped into a support beam. She shut her eyes and said, with a confidence she didn't feel, "You assume I shall allow you to strike again."

"You can't fight me," the voice murmured as the figure came closer. "You can't see me. I can move faster than you can fly, and you'll be dead, dead, dead, just like all the others. You don't even have a weapon."

"I have no weapon save nature." Ululenia felt the hatred as the figure slid into substance.

Her horn flared with radiant light. She dove to the ground, and the knife struck the support beam.

The
wooden
support beam.

From which branches sprouted, twining around the shadowy figure's arm in a twisting embrace. With a wordless snarl, the figure rippled out of view again, but the twisting branches stayed tight around it.

"Nature will suffice." Ululenia shimmered and flew as a bird, then became a woman again when she reached the door. Not daring to look back, she yanked it open, dashed through, and slammed it shut behind her.

"Are you well, young lady?"

Ululenia looked up to see a matronly woman in a rich red dress staring at her in concern. Behind her, the ballroom shone in glorious glittering gaudiness.

"I am afraid," Ululenia said with complete honesty. "This is my first Victory Ball."

And with a chuckle, the matronly woman took Ululenia by the arm and led her out into the safety of the crowd.