All Spell Breaks Loose

“Your word’s good.”

“Give him your word, Tam,” Kesyn said. “We don’t have time to play.”

Tam shot his teacher a withering look. “What?”

The old goblin’s dark eyes flickered. “Oh, go on and give it to him.”

Tam met Kesyn’s look, then pressed his lips together. He slowly turned back to Balic. “Done. You have my word; I won’t kill you.”

“No one else here will kill me, either.”

“Nor anyone else,” Kesyn bit the words off. “Now spill it, worm.”

“Your son must have a lot of elf in him,” Balic said. “That navinem made him go on a rampage. I saw him just after midnight near the city’s west wall. He blew up the main bank of latrines the army’s using while they build Nukpana’s contraption outside the city.”

The Gate. That monster Gate. Oh Talon, you devil. If I live through this, you’ve got a big kiss coming.

“The weekly supply wagons had just arrived,” Balic was saying. “The explosion sprayed shit on everything. Heard later that two of Nukpana’s pet generals were in the latrine when it went up.”

Piaras pumped his fist in the air. “Woooo—”

I elbowed him in the ribs.

Mychael was grinning. “Don’t worry; I’ve warded us for sight and sound.”

Balic added, “Then the kid dropped his trousers and mooned the lot of them.”

Beautiful.

“Of course, they opened up on him: small cannon, crossbow, javelins—anything they had at hand.” Balic stopped and looked expectantly at Tam.

“Did he get away?” Tam growled.

“I saw what happened.” He smirked. “Let me go and I’ll tell you.”

Tam drew a dagger and stepped in even closer. I couldn’t see where he was holding that dagger, but from Balic’s gasp and complete loss of color, I had a good idea.

“I gave my word not to kill you,” Tam said calmly. “It’ll be only one small cut, perhaps two. It won’t be fatal, though you’ll wish it had been.”

“He got away,” Balic squeaked.

Tam stepped back and the dagger vanished back into his sleeve.

“You got anything else to tell us?” Kesyn asked.

“That’s all. Now keep your word—”

“I got your word right here,” Kesyn said. “Dost ni’kiprat dij’sh.”

Balic’s eyes rolled back in his head and he went limp in Tam’s grasp. Tam let him go and the former secret service agent slid down the wall into a crumpled heap in the street.

“That was more than one word, wasn’t it?” the old goblin asked Tam.

Tam was smiling. “Yes, sir, it was. They were well chosen, though.”

The rest of us hadn’t moved.

Kesyn looked around. “What? I didn’t kill him. He’s just asleep. Of course, he won’t wake up until I tell him to; and if I get killed… or forget to come back…” The old man shrugged. “My memory’s just not what it used to be.”

Chapter 14

Kesyn’s plan would either get us into the Khrynsani temple, or be an incredibly messy way to get ourselves killed.

Pretty much every ritual the Khrynsani conducted began and ended with some poor sot taking a dagger through the heart. That made for a lot of dead bodies. For the past thousand years, the Saghred hadn’t been around to clean up after them, so the Khrynsani had to do their own housekeeping.

Like Magh’Sceadu, sea dragons didn’t leave leftovers.

Just south of Regor’s harbor was a sheer cliff. I didn’t know how high it was because I couldn’t see the top from where we stood at the base of the thing. The six of us were on a stretch of rocky beach that was just big enough for us to stand on without getting wet. The height of the cliff didn’t matter because our destination was an opening about twenty feet over our heads. There were enough hand- and footholds that we could reach it. At high tide, the sea water could reach it, too. But our concern wasn’t that we’d get caught in a flooded tunnel at high tide. We were worried about getting caught by what lived in the cave and lake at the end of those tunnels.

A sea dragon. Definitely one, possibly more; serving the dual purpose of Khrynsani sentinel and undertaker. According to Kesyn, occasionally the Khrynsani would bypass their corpse-consuming sentinel and throw their dead out of the tunnel and into the sea. The tide would come in and take the bodies out. I’d noticed that a lot of the rock and gravel we were standing on was white and shaped suspiciously like bits of ground-up bone. I was making every effort not to notice it again.

I didn’t know about Piaras, but I felt like I was just along for the ride. If all spell broke loose, at least he had something to contribute. I felt about as worthless as tits on a bull, and I didn’t even have any navinem to fool me into thinking otherwise.

I needed to be worthwhile. I needed to know I was going to do something to help.

Tam, Imala, and Kesyn were climbing up to the cave entrance. Piaras would go next, followed by me and Mychael. I hadn’t moved in front of Mychael yet to get ready to climb. He was looking up at Kesyn, marking his progress, waiting until the old goblin was at least halfway up before having Piaras start his climb.

I laid my hand on Mychael’s shoulder, and stood on tiptoe, my lips next to his ear. “Mychael, I want to carry the Scythe of Nen into the temple. I need to be the one to use it.”

He half turned. “We decided that I—”

“No, you decided that you’d stab the Saghred; I never agreed. For all we know, I might have to be the one to stab it. We can’t afford to take any chances.” I didn’t think Piaras could hear me, but I still lowered my voice, my words coming fast. “I’m the one the rock latched onto. I’m the one who’s had that thing sharing my head, giving me nightmares while I try to sleep, and taking me over to kill people during the day.”

“Raine, for the last time, if you hadn’t killed those firemages, none of us would be standing here right now. You saved us and hundreds of others. Killing on a battlefield isn’t murder; and make no mistake, that street was a battlefield that day.”

“Soldiers don’t enjoy the killing. I did.”

“Raine, that wasn’t—”

I cut him off. “We can argue later. What it boils down to is that the Saghred chose me as its bond slave. Let’s call it what it is. I’m not a servant; I’m a slave. It’s used me, and because of me, people I love have been in mortal danger.” My next words came through clenched teeth. “I’ve earned the right to destroy that rock.”

“Raine, you don’t have any magic, no shields, no—”

“I could have Justinius Valerian’s shields against that rock and it wouldn’t do me any good, and you know it. I’ll be there with you in a Khrynsani cloak when you’re glamoured as Sarad Nukpana.” I took a breath and blew it out. “Mychael, please. I need to do this. I need to cut my own chains and free myself.”

Mychael’s eyes were on mine, searching, appraising. Without looking away from me, he reached into a pouch he carried on his belt and took out the Scythe of Nen. He expertly flipped the curved, silver dagger in his hand so that the pommel extended toward me.

I realized that I’d been holding my breath. I reached out and closed my hand around the grip. “Thank you,” I said simply.

He closed his big hand over mine. “Remember, we do this together,” he whispered. “If you need to be the one to use the Scythe…” He paused and squeezed my hand. “I need to be the one to be with you. That’s a deal I won’t let you talk me out of.”