“Come to Kina.”
“Oh. No!” He nearly shrieked. The only escape was to yield himself to a greater horror? “No!”
“Up to you, wizard. But life isn’t going to get any better.”
This time Smoke did run. He did not care if he was followed. Exercise reduced panic. As he neared his destination he realized that he had not seen any bats since leaving the palace. That was new. Where were the Shadowmasters’ messengers?
He bustled into a tall slum tenement, hurried upstairs, pounded on a door. A voice said, “Enter.”
He froze two steps inside the doorway.
The man he had been talking to leaned against the opposite wall. There were eight corpses in the room, all strangled. The man said, “The goddess doesn’t want your master to know her daughter is here.”
Smoke squeaked like a stomped rat. He fled. The man laughed.
The man amongst the corpses shrank. He became the imp Frogface, who chuckled, then faded away.
Smoke calmed down before he reached the palace. His mind started working. He had one bolt left. It could bite him as easily as his enemies, but... Engulfed by the darkness he could but flee toward the only light he saw.
He would not yield to Kina.
Chapter Fifty
As dusk gathered I descended on Longshadow’s stay-behinds and routed them completely. The slaughter was great. It failed being complete only because my cavalry was otherwise occupied. We had the field to ourselves before the last light left the sky.
“Old Spinner’s going to know in a few minutes,” Swan said. “I figure he’ll have him a litter of kittens, then he’ll get pissed. We ought to go somewhere where he can’t catch us.”
He was on the right track. Coming through the hills I had been considering going after the group left at the southern approach. Not till Swan spoke did I realize I would not be able to sneak up on that group. Night had come. Night belonged to Shadowspinner. He would know where we were and where we were headed. Unless that was away from him he would be waiting when we arrived.
Too, he might be desperate enough to appeal to Longshadow. Maybe Longshadow had help on the way already. Whatever lay between them, it would not be as great as their enmity for the rest of the world. Though premature, theirs was a squabble over the spoils of conquest.
Blade asked, “Any way we could stay here and masquerade as the Shadowmaster’s men?”
“No. I don’t have the skill. Our best bet is to go back north till he stops chasing us, then just keep him nervous while we decide what to do next.”
Narayan had started worrying about missing his delayed Festival. Though I had passed my first test he was suspicious of my will to become the Daughter of Night. A move north would assuage him. And the men needed time away from danger, to recuperate and digest their successes.
Blade asked, “The men in the city?”
“They’re safer than they were. Shadowspinner can’t get at them now.”
Narayan grumbled. Sindhu was in there.
I said, “Mogaba will cope. He’s good at coping.” Too good. We would have trouble down the road, him and me.
Nobody liked heading back north, except Narayan. But no one argued.
I had gained ground, definitely.
Chapter Fifty-One
Smoke was no earthshaker as a wizard but within his limitations, which he recognized, he was competent and effective. And forewarned, he was forearmed.
The woman knew his every move? Then she commanded some unsuspected agency for espionage. He needed blind that only a few minutes.
He scuttled through the palace, ducking his employers, who were looking for him. He dodged into one of his shielded rooms, barred the door.
Obviously his shielding had been penetrated because that man had implied she knew everything, meaning she had been peeking here, too. She was more than she pretended. Much more. She was the Daughter of Night. And that fool the prince had been blinded by her. Hadn’t they been out to the gardens again tonight?
No one could stop her but him. Maybe he could shake loose from Longshadow later.
The Shadowmaster’s face formed in his head. His legs turned to jelly. He shook his head violently, forced the apparition away, hurriedly set about checking his defenses.
He found a pinhole through which some wicked spirit could have oozed. Or a shadow, for that matter.
He plugged it. Then he worked a spell that pressed his limits. It would conceal his whereabouts till he became the object of a very determined search. Secure, he filled a small silver bowl from a mercury flask, working as swiftly as he dared. Before he was finished he feared that he had been too slow.
Someone tried the door. He jumped but concentrated on opening the path to Overlook. It came. It came. More quickly than he expected, it came. The Shadowmaster had been thinking of him, too.
The racket at the door became pounding and shouting. He ignored it.
The dread face appeared on the surface of the mercury, amazed. It mouthed words. There was no sound. The Shadowmaster was too far, Smoke’s power too feeble. The little wizard gestured violently, Pay attention! He was startled by his own temerity. But this was a desperate hour. Desperate measures were necessary.
Smoke grabbed paper and ink and scribbled. They were trying to break down the door. Damn, the woman had reacted quickly.
He held his message up for Longshadow. The Shadowmaster read. He reread. Then Longshadow looked him in the eye and nodded. He appeared bewildered. Carefully, he mouthed words so Smoke could read his lips.
The door began to give. And something else was trying to get in now, clawing and tearing at the plugged pinhole.
The door gave a little more.
Smoke got half the message before the pinhole plug broke. Dense smoke boiled into the room. A face glared out of it. Hideous and fanged and filled with grim purpose, it came for him. He squealed, jumped up, overturned table and bowl.
The door gave way as the demon caught him. He screamed and tumbled down into an abyss of terror.
The guards took one look, cursed, dropped the ram and fled. The prince stepped inside, saw the thing ripping at Smoke. The Radisha crowded up behind him. “What the hell is that?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think you ought to stay to find out.” He looked for a weapon, recognized the absurdity of the impulse as he grabbed a swordlike sliver split from the doorframe.
The monster looked up, startled. It stared. Apparently this situation was beyond its instructions. It hung there, motionless.
The Prahbrindrah threw the sliver like a spear.
The thing shrank away into an upper corner of the room, swiftly and dramatically, leaving behind an odor like cinnamon and mustard and wine all mixed.
“What the hell was it?” the Radisha demanded again. She was petrified. The Prahbrindrah jumped over to the wizard. Smoke’s blood was everywhere, along with shreds of clothing. The thing had driven him into a corner. What was left of him had drawn itself into a tight fetal ball.
The prince dropped to his knees. “He’s alive. Get some help. Fast. Or he won’t be for long.” He started doing what he could.
