The Unseen Tempest (Lords of Arcadia) (22 page)

He wasn’t an expert on gemlings, but he had the feeling they were not happy to see him.

“You are not the Ater,” one of them declared.

“You have the passing stone. Explain,” the other demanded.

Kor slowly let go of the stone Ater had put in his hands and took a step back to get his balance from the teleport. “I was given this by th—by Ater.” He could feel his bow on his shoulder and wondered how resistant the ambers were to magic.

“The Ater was given this to return. Where is the Ater?”

The ambers closed in on the elf, and he moved his hand to his bow. “He. Gave. It. To. Me,” Kor tried to explain.

“Where is the Ater?” one of them asked again, and the glow increased.

“Screw this,” Kor said, pulling his bow and firing at the space between the two of them. “
Bide
.”

The arrow glowed intensely for a quarter second before exploding in a massive shock wave, throwing the ambers in opposite directions. The force slammed them into the far walls, easily embedding them more than a foot deep.

Kor had not waited to examine his work; he had already turned and fled the room.

He took off down one of the hallways, looking for a way out. A pale yellow beryl rounded a corner from a side hall and stopped the moment it saw the elf. “Intruder!” it called out as it took off back the way it had come.

Kor shot an arrow after it, calling out “
Verglas
” as it flew. The gem fell to the ground, encased in a block of ice, but the damage had already been done. A squad of ambers came tearing down the hall to investigate the scream. Kor turned and ran in the opposite direction. “Now I regret not killing him,” he muttered as he ran. A second squad of ambers rounded the corner of the next side hall he passed, and he knew he’d run out of places to run.

Which left only fighting.

Firing an arrow at one squad, he invoked “
Mur
.” A wall of magical force appeared in front of them, blocking their access to him. Turning to the other squad, he drew another arrow and fired. “
Densité
!” The dozen ambers slammed to the ground as gravity around them increased twentyfold. Kor’s head spun a bit, and he realized how much magical energy he had burned through. He shook his head and tried to clear his thoughts. And, all the while, he heard the ambers slamming into his wall, chipping it away piece by piece.

He needed to find a place to hide and recover, and he needed it now.

Before he could move, his wall shattered into nothing, shards of magical energy fading away as the spell disintegrated completely. Kor squinted at something barreling through the remains of the wall; a huge diamond shot toward him. Kor fired an arrow directly at its center and called out “
Presser
!” The spell hit with the equivalent force of a car slamming into another car while moving close to sixty miles an hour.

The diamond didn’t so much as pause as he drove through the spell and slammed into Kor’s chin, hurling the elf to the floor.

Kor looked up, his vision blurry, at the diamond, which floated over him. “My men asked you a question. Where is the Ater?”

Thankfully, Kor lost consciousness, still cursing Ater, wherever the dark elf was, for putting him into this situation.

A
TER
WAS
not surprised to wake up tied to a chair.

It wasn’t the first time he had come to consciousness in this state; it was just the first time he was here without Pullus. He could feel one of his eyes was swollen over, and he was breathing through his mouth, which meant his nose was definitely broken.

None of these wounds hurt as much as the pain of being alone.

“Oh, are we awake?” Oberon asked from in front of him. “Then we can begin.”

Ater looked up and again was not shocked to see he was in the palace dungeons. The gods know he had brought enough people here under the orders of the royal family. It was simply a matter of time before he ended up here himself.

Oberon straddled a chair and cut a slice of a ripe, green ull. He offered the slice to Ater, who said nothing.

The monarch shrugged and popped it in his mouth. “Not hungry? Fine, let’s get started. Where is my son?”

Ater looked around and saw two guards standing by the door, doing their best to pretend they couldn’t hear a thing that was being said. “Didn’t this room use to have chains? I remember chaining up that ocelot from the Willows in here once.”

Oberon didn’t say a thing as he tossed the ull over his shoulder and plunged the knife into the dark elf’s leg. Ater stifled a scream when the fairy leaned a bit on the knife, driving it deeper. “Hawk’keen, where is he?”

“Why are you doing this?” Ater asked as he tried to keep the pain out of his voice. “What is the point of this game?”

Oberon twisted the knife slowly in a clockwise motion. “The point is that all you will know is pain until you tell me where the prince is hiding.”

Ater screamed as the knife scraped the side of his femur. “I’m not going to tell you anything, not as long as you wear that face.”

Oberon stopped twisting the knife. “This face? You can’t be delusional from the pain already. We’ve just started.”

Ater glared into the king’s eyes. “How long do you think you can keep that form, Puck, before someone figures it out? I am not going to tell you a thing.” He looked over to the guards. “You know this man isn’t the king, correct? He is the changeling posing as Oberon.”

“Ah, so that’s why you resist,” Oberon said, yanking the knife out. “Well, that is a different story altogether.” To the guards, he snapped, “Bandage his leg up and take him down to the cells with our other guests.”

“He’s not Oberon,” Ater repeated as the guards approached him.

“They won’t listen to you. These men were handpicked for their loyalty, so you might as well save your strength. Tomorrow you’ll be back in here, and we’ll start with your other leg.”

Ater winced as one of the guards began to wrap his wound. “What makes you think tomorrow will be any different?”

Oberon gave him a small smile. “You’ll see.” And with that, he walked out.

“You can’t believe him! He is the changeling,” Ater said as soon as Oberon was gone. “He is attempting to overthrow the throne.”

They said nothing as they finished their work on his leg.

After making sure the manacles on his hands were secure, they led him down into the bowels of the dungeon. To the deepmost floor, where the Arcadian family kept those who had committed crimes against the state to rot for all time. The cells were carved out of solid stone with cold iron interlaced into the walls, making them completely magic-proof and nearly impossible to escape. They marched him down to the lowest set of cells, the ones that were the farthest away from the palace.

One of the guards opened the door, and the other tossed him into the cell.

Ater stumbled because his leg refused to support his weight. He thought about cursing at the men as they walked away but thought better. After all, what was there to gain from it?

“Which one are you?” a female voice asked. Ater looked up and saw Titania locked in the cell across from him. Her dress was filthy and her hair matted down, but even covered in grime, she carried herself like a queen. “I’m sorry, but all of you assassins looked the same in your armor. I was never able to differentiate among the three of you.”

“I am Ater, Your Majesty,” he said, pulling himself over to the cot.

“You’re the First,” she said smiling. “Did they not capture your partner, then?”

The pain in his leg momentarily lessened as he felt Pullus’s loss. “No, it is just me, Your Majesty.”

She waved her hand at him. “Oh, stop it. We’re both locked down here together. I think we can dispense with the titles. The only majesty right now is my lord Oberon.” Her voice was bitter with emotion as she spoke of him.

“That is not your husband,” he said, trying to get up and failing. He fell toward the bars and held himself up. “That is the changeling Puck masquerading as him. The creature is after the secret of ascension and will stop at nothing to get it.”

She looked at him with an odd expression. “I’m afraid that isn’t Puck.”

“It is, Your Majesty,” Ater pleaded. “You have to believe me. I was foolish enough to listen to him and almost killed your son because of it. He is capable of anything.”

“Not anything,” a voice croaked from the far cell. Ater looked over and saw the beaten and bloodied form of Puck lying on the cot, his limbs obviously broken in several different positions. “For example, I am incapable of getting out of this cell, so that’s one thing.”

Ater could not believe his eyes. “Puck? But if you’re here….”

“That is Oberon,” Titania confirmed, her voice cold with anger. “And he is going to kill us all.”

W
E
WALKED
over toward Molly, who, with help from Caerus, was loading Ferra into a sleigh that would have put Santa to shame. This thing was huge, and if I hadn’t just seen it fly, I would have sworn it never would be able to.

“How is she?” I asked Molly, ashamed I had forgotten her condition during my little spaz.

Molly watched the sapphire float Ferra gently into the back. “Better. She doesn’t seem to be in pain anymore, and it looks like she is healing.”

“Of course she is,” Demain said, taking the reins from Milo. “Her people came from this realm. Its energies are restorative to any and all ice creatures.”

We sat in the backseat, because I didn’t trust Hawk being that close to Demain without hauling off and popping her one. Ruber, though, had no such hesitation and floated next to the queen. “The Friguses are thought of as just another barbarian tribe on Faerth. How do you know they originated here?”

Demain glanced at Ruber as she signaled the reindeer to take flight. “Cut open any barbarian you want, gemling, and you will find blood. However, if you cut one open and find ice, they can trace their lineage back to Niflgard.”

We took to the sky before anyone could answer.

From up there I was startled by the view below. I had assumed all I’d see would be snow, and how exciting was that?
Look, kids, white on white with just a touch of ice.
Bleh. But what I saw was something completely different.

Below me and stretching beyond the horizon lay an entire world carved out of ice. Roads made of ice blocks that led to small towns that looked like they were made of glass, inhabited by blue-skinned people who, I had to admit, reminded me of Ferra’s folk. Animals walked around with the blue people, walking on two legs and wearing clothes, which didn’t shock me as much as I thought it would.

The sleigh flew over fields and fields of different-colored ice structures that made me think of an ice farm. “What are those?” I asked, pointing to one of the fields.

“At your core you are an animal, dear Kane. I mean your species, of course.” Demain gave me a smile that told me she in no way was talking about my species. “That means you must eat other animals to gain substance. The people of Niflgard in their core are ice, so they require ice to sustain them. They cultivate over nine thousand different types of ice here, each one as unique as your own fruits and vegetables.”

“What about the animals?” I asked as we left the fields behind. “Do they eat ice?”

Demain gave me a look. “You can eat ice all you want, dear boy, but all you will end up getting is cold. The refugees from the Willows and the Wolflands raise their own crops to survive.”

I looked to Hawk to ask him what she was talking about, but I got the mind-whammy shortcut instead.

The Willows was a world where there were no humans, and animals were the intelligent species, walking and talking and wearing clothes, kind of like Milo. The Wolflands was a world a lot like Faerth, with a ton of magical creatures, but was ruled by a maniac called the Wolf King. From what Hawk sent me, a majority of the talking animals had come from these two worlds when, I guess, it was easier to get from one realm to another. When the realms were separated, some beings became marooned in the other realms.

That is what Demain meant by refugees.

Those animals were stuck here the same way I was, with no way home. I leaned back in the sleigh, knowing how they felt. Okay, I know that wasn’t exactly true. I’m sure I could get Ruber or his people to send me home, but I couldn’t leave Hawk to fight Puck all by himself, so I might as well be stuck here. Hawk grabbed my hand, and I felt him send me hope, which had to be hard for him considering all he was dealing with.

I leaned against him and sent hope back to him. As we flew across the ice fields, we basked in the small but powerful glow it made.

K
OR
CAME
back to consciousness but kept his eyes closed.

Though not as intensively trained as Ater, he had his own share of experience, and he knew better than to give away an advantage when he had one. He could feel his bow wasn’t on him, which was bad because his magic was severely limited without it. All his spells came through the weapon, which meant he needed to find it as soon as possible. That most likely meant opening his eyes at some point.

A female voice interrupted his thoughts. “If you are thinking I cannot tell if you are awake or not, you’re mistaken.”

Kor cracked one eye opened and found an amethyst floating above him.

“My name is Silica Appolonia Medens, and I am your healer. You’ve recently had your jaw broken, so try not to talk as it mends.”

He moved his tongue around in his mouth, and he could feel soreness but nothing that would indicate a broken jaw. He opened his mouth to speak, and his face exploded in pain. All he got out was a mangled scream.

“When I said you should try not to talk, that meant not talking.” Her tone was as sarcastic as it was dismissive. “Now I will admit you are the first elven subject I have had time to study, so I have some questions. Please answer by nodding your head for yes and shaking it for no. Speech is not required.”

Kor glared at her but said nothing.