The Shadow Games: The Chronicles of Arianthem VI (11 page)

“And so here you are again, unscathed,” Malron’a said. “Or nearly so.” Her pale eyes examined the wound on Raine’s neck, the sensual gaze caressing the injury so that it felt like the brush of fingers on Raine’s skin. “You heal almost as fast as my kind. Are you immune to all vampyr bites? Say one from a very powerful vampyr?”

“I am immune to magic,” Raine replied.

The seer assessed the stunning pronouncement at length, but in the end, it seemed to have little effect on her. “How unfortunate,” Malron’a said, and then her change in demeanor made Raine nervous. “Or perhaps not. It would be blessed to feed upon you for all time, knowing how quickly you heal and that you cannot be turned.”

Raine remained silent. There was nothing she could say that would not make this conversation more dangerous. Malron’a examined the leaves of one of her many plants, some that seemed to thrive in the darkness more than the light.

“You let the assassin live,” she said at last.

“It was my hope that she would carry a message.”

“It was her responsibility to take her own life.”

“And did she?”

“She did not.” Malron’a observed Raine’s reaction curiously. “You are relieved. This woman tried to kill you and would do so again at the first opportunity. And yet you feel relief that she has lived.”

“It’s one thing to kill in battle,” Raine replied, “and another to send one to their death. It’s why I’m a warrior and not a politician, and why I prefer to fight with a handful of comrades rather than many.”

Malron’a evaluated her while Raine continued. “And was my message delivered?”

“I don’t know. I am not privy to Pernilla’s communications. I do know that you have caught her attention.”

“And how is that?”

Malron’a carefully pruned one of her vines with a pair small shears. “My contract on you has been altered and a clause added.”

“What clause?” Raine asked, her wariness spiking once more.

A sharp snip of the scissors was loud in the silence. “That you are to be stopped at all costs. Slain if needed. But if at all possible, you are to be captured alive.”

Malron’a turned those pale bluish, greenish eyes upon her.

“You got your wish. The entire Shadow Guild is after you now.”

“You’re not going to let yourself be captured,” Feyden said , frowning.

“No, no,” Raine said propping her feet up in front of the fire and taking a swig of mead. “That sounds like a very bad idea.”

Lorifal sighed audibly in relief. The same thought had entered his mind the instant Raine had relayed the conversation.

Raine also frowned, propping her elbow on the armrest and her chin on her fist. “I would no doubt be delivered in some unpleasant manner that would leave me incapacitated. If I am to succeed, I must meet with this leader on my own terms.”

Raine still had not spoken the name “Pernilla” to them, nor would she. That burden she would carry on her own.

“If I can’t find this woman any other way, and time becomes short, then I will consider allowing myself to be captured. But I would much rather draw her to me. And really, I think I should start avoiding everyone until this is over, now that I have such a contract on my head.”

“You’re not going anywhere without us, lass,” Lorifal said, snorting into his mead.

“Present company excepted, of course,” Raine clarified, “but I am going to avoid the Ha’kan for a while, and Maeva and the imperials. I did not draw all attention to me to get them killed in the crossfire.”

“So what’s your next step?” Feyden asked.

“Malron’a gave me another clue, as frustrating and obscure as those before. She said there is something of great value to their leader in the catacombs of Hrafn. Something she may be willing to bargain for.”

“What could possibly be there that the Shadow Guild could not obtain on their own?”

“I don’t know,” Raine said, “but there must be something stopping them from getting it.”

Chapter 13

S
igne sat on the marble bench in the flower garden where she could look out over the fields of grain, the dark earthen plots of the vegetable gardens, the apple orchard, and into the forest beyond. This world gave her pleasure, this realm she seemed forbidden to touch or visit. Eydis was so protective of her she would grow distraught if ever Signe wandered too far from the main house, which caused Signe to despair that she caused her love any grief.

And so Signe would sit idly on the bench, playing with the butterflies that flitted about, toying with the various bugs that climbed between the stems and stalks of the greenery around her, every once in a while glancing to the distant forest that seemed to beckon to her with a mysterious appeal. She deliberated walking to the orchard, its neat rows of trees a stark contrast to the wild tangle of growth that lie beyond. She straightened her shoulders, resolved, and determined she would do so.

“Where are you going, my love?”

Signe had no sooner risen than Eydis was at her side.

“I thought I might walk through the orchard,” Signe said, “I feel good today.”

“That’s wonderful!” Eydis said brightly, “I will join you!”

Signe felt a small surge of disappointment, then guilty for the ungrateful sentiment. Eydis had only her best interests at heart, and she did enjoy the beautiful woman’s company. It was just that her trip to the orchard would be just that and no more, for the forest was surely off-limits.

Still, walking hand-in-hand through the fully-laden trees, the branches heavy with fruit, was immensely pleasant. The air was fresh and sweet, scented with the honeysuckle that climbed the tall walls surrounding the grove. And Eydis’ hand was soft in her own, her blue eyes luminous, the outline of her body visible through her lovely gown as the light passed through the soft folds.

“What are you looking at?” Eydis teased, and Signe blushed for she had been fixated on the outline of her breast.

“Nothing,” Signe said shyly, and leaned back against the trunk of a tree. Eydis pressed those firm breasts against her, and Signe’s arms went about her waist. Eydis kissed her and Signe was both startled and aroused, for it seemed they were quite exposed.

“’Tis private enough here,” Eydis whispered into her ear, and Signe’s excitement grew. Although Eydis was an excellent lover, it seemed their lovemaking was somewhat staid, although Signe had no idea what she was basing that opinion on. To make love in the orchard in the light of day, where any of the workers could come upon them, where really anyone could see them…

“What’s wrong?” Eydis asked, feeling the sudden tension in Signe’s body. She leaned back to look at her.

Signe was gazing intently into the forest, no fear in her expression but rather one of keen interest. Eydis turned to see what she was looking at but saw nothing.

“Do you see that man?” Signe murmured.

“What man?” Eydis demanded, and Signe glanced at her in surprise for her voice had hardened in a most unusual fashion.

“That man there,” Signe said, returning her gaze to the forest. “The one standing at the edge. He is dressed in animal skins and can hardly be seen.”

Eydis again searched the forest where Signe was nodding, and again she saw nothing at all.

“You are frightening me,” Eydis said, and her voice had softened with that fear. “I see nothing.”

“But he’s right there,” Signe protested.

Eydis brushed Signe’s hair from her hazel eyes and took her by the arms. “I believe you,” she said in a patronizing manner which suggested she did not. “It’s probably a poacher. I will send the men out to chase him off. You should go back in the house.”

Signe started to protest but a spell of dizziness overtook her. She swayed and would have collapsed if Eydis had not held her.

“And now see what this excitement has done,” Eydis cried out, holding her tightly. “I must get you inside.”

Signe was settled into bed despite her weak objections, and Eydis headed downstairs. Once on the lower level, the woman’s face again underwent a dramatic transformation, hardening into an expression reminiscent of the earlier flint-like quality in her voice.

“Is there something you require, my lady?” the gardener asked. A solid, heavyset man, his skin browned and thickened by the sun, his hands roughened and calloused with labor, he was terrified of his mistress.

“No,” she said coldly, setting her path towards the forest, “I will handle this myself.”

The Tavinter scout ran frantically through the woods. His people rarely traveled alone, but they were spread so thin right now, it had become a necessity. And he had roamed far away from his nearest comrades, intent on exploring an area of forest that was said to be uninhabited. He was following instinct that showed him signs of a settlement where there was said to be none.

And now he was fleeing for his life, for something was in the woods behind him. And he was fleeing for more than his life, for he carried news that was more valuable than any breath he would take. But as skilled as he was, whatever was behind him was gradually overtaking him, and every step forward seemed to bring his pursuer one step closer.

Perhaps that was because his follower was now in front of him. The young scout hit what felt like a stone wall, was thrown backwards, tried to scramble away on all fours, and was struck by an invisible giant fist. He lie gasping on the ground, knowing he had just sustained mortal internal injuries.

“Witch,” he spit out, choking on blood, “you will be found. The Tavinter leave none behind. They will find me, and when they find me, they will find Skye by following my tracks.”

“I know that,” Ingrid said coldly, “which is why I’ve arranged a more natural death for you that may deter them. Although,” she admitted, “it won’t be entirely natural.”

The forest around the scout began to stir and his expression grew grim. He could smell the creatures before he could see them: wet leather, blood, pus, and other foul odors that did not originate in the mortal realm. The shuffling, pig-faced monstrosities crept from the undergrowth, fearful and hateful of the magical creature that had enthralled them. But they were drawn to the smell of fresh meat, of the wounded, helpless prey dangled in front of them.

The Tavinter, barely able to move, drew his dagger and faced the Hyr’rok’kin closing in on him.

“Skye will avenge my death,” he said through clenched teeth.

“There is no more Skye,” Ingrid said, and turned away as the young man screamed, then disappeared into a cloud of gnashing fangs and a fine mist of blood.

Miles away, Signe lie in bed fitfully asleep, and jerked as if in spasm. The jerk did not awaken her from the sleeping spell, but it did increase the darkness of her dreams, dreams that were already filled with denizens of the Underworld.

And many, many miles further than that, a raven-haired mage removed a small vial attached to a chain, both of which had been secured in an inner pocket. Idonea held the vial up to the light, watching the red liquid within the tiny glass capsule. For the briefest of instants, the red liquid began to softly glow, then returned to its torpid state. She held the vial before her, lips pursed in thought, for quite some time.

Chapter 14

D
allan sat in the saddle with ease, enjoying the comfortable rocking motion. Rika rode next to her, and Idonea on her other side. Both Ha’kan were surprised at how skilled Idonea was on the back of a horse. Idonea’s careless, offhand manner hid a multitude of skills. The three had traveled through the forest, accompanied by a contingent of imperials led by the Bard of the Realm, a strange assignment were this bard not as deadly with a sword as she was with a pen.

“It’s not much farther,” Dagna said, her good humor shining through her eyes and evident in her voice. She made this trip often, for her love Elyara spent much time with the wood elves, but this had been far more enjoyable than most. She was regaling the young Ha’kan with the story of “The Dragon’s Lover,” but giving details not recorded in the poem.

“And so you all thought Raine a coward?” Rika asked in disbelief.

“None of us had any idea who or what she was,” Dagna explained, “and she seemed so lackadaisical about everything.”

“And when the fighting began,” Idonea added, “Raine did nothing at first. She just stood there.”

Dagna’s eyes lit up at the memory. “But she was waiting for the Marrow Shard, and when it did appear, she killed that monster in an instant. We all stood gaping.”

“Except Lorifal,” Idonea reminded her, “who thought to go chasing after the fleeing Hyr’rok’kin.”

“Oh that’s right! Raine snagged him by the collar and said ‘I suggest we let them come to us,’ or something like that.”

“That sounds like Raine,” Dallan said, “so calm. She was exactly the same way when we met her. Showed up and saved us from hundreds of Hyr’rok’kin, fighting as if it were play for her.”

“She does like to fight,” Dagna said. “But she loves that dragon even more.”

“Yes,” Idonea said wryly, another memory triggered. “Do you remember the time when Raine disappeared from camp and I followed her?”

Dagna giggled. “Yes. I was jealous. I thought you were going to try your luck with her where I had failed.”

Idonea rolled her eyes. “If only it had been that simple. I came upon her and my mother, shall we say, engaged in relations, and although my mother knew I was there, she did not pause for an instant.”

Rika nearly fell off her horse. “You saw them? Together? By the gods, what I wouldn’t give for that sight.”

“That was how I knew Raine was Arlanian. She cannot hide her eyes around my mother.”

“And when did you know she was Scinterian?” Dallan asked.

Idonea and Dagna glanced to one another and silently agreed. “Not until she revealed her markings at the gate,” Dagna responded, “when she battled the ancient dragon Ragnar.”

“It seems there is nothing that Raine cannot defeat,” Dallan mused. “She killed a multitude of Reaper Shards in the palace courtyard.”

Dagna shuddered and Idonea grew grave. “Every enemy that Raine fights is different. They all have strengths and weaknesses. She cannot battle a Reaper Shard and a Marrow Shard the same way. And even her current skirmishes with the undead are dangerous. Vampyr may not seem to be as deadly as Hyr’rok’kin, but in some ways, they are worse.”