The Element of Fire, Martha Wells [books for new readers .txt] 📗

Thomas ducked around the milling creatures still panicked by the ward, forcing himself not to look back. He found the right pillar in moments and saw that the clay seal a foot or so above its base had been recently replaced. He reached down just as something struck him from behind. Claws dug into his back, parting the leather of his buff coat. He spun and slammed the creature and his full weight into the stone pillar. Its hold loosened and Thomas wrenched away. Turning, he stabbed the dazed spriggan and shoved it out of the way.

Dropping to his knees, Thomas broke the clay seal with the heel of his hand. He dug into the soft dirt and his fingers found the stone buried within, but it seemed to slip away as he tried to get a grip on it. He swore, and shifted against the pillar to reach deeper into the niche. Finally he caught the stone and pulled it out. Flinging it away, he shoved the old keystone into the niche, wondering if it was going to struggle to escape too. But it seemed to slide out of his hand and into the proper spot of its own volition. Thomas sat back, breathing hard. Then he realized that the entire room had gone silent.

He looked up. In that whole great chamber it seemed that not a single fay moved. All were arrested in midaction by a sound or a sight only they could hear. All except one.

Evadne was coming toward him, shoving his motionless companions out of the way.

Thomas picked up his rapier and stood.

*

Kade had led Evadne and the others in a chase toward the opposite end of the cellar, stopping only when she could put one of the pillars at her back. She had felt Ableon-Indis’s withdrawal and knew she hadn’t much time. She threw a handful of glamour at the nearest snarling bogle to give herself room, then whispered a spell of blinding. The sorcery had greater effect on the creatures of Fayre than it did on humans, and the nearest of the Host screeched and stumbled away as the mist of sightlessness settled over them. The mist dispersed rapidly. As a large and hideous water-fay bore down on her, Kade thought frantically for another spell.

Then her ears popped and she felt the ether tremble around her. The nearest fay were staring at her, the others gazing about in astonishment. He did it, she thought in relief. The old keystone was taking control of the wards, and the Host could feel the enmity in the etheric structure re-forming around the palace. To those nearest her, Kade said, “You’d better leave, before you’re trapped here forever. If you aren’t already.”

The dark fay erupted into sound and motion as one, plunging away from her, taking to the air, running screaming across the floor toward the steps. Kade leaned against one of the pillars, weak from relief, then realized Evadne was nowhere to be seen.

*

The Host was dispersing in panic. Some charged up the stairs while the flighted fay rose into the air, running into the pillars and each other in their confusion.

Thomas couldn’t see Kade. He put his back against the pillar. If Evadne tore the keystone out this would all be undone.

Evadne broke through the milling fay, charging at him, his long arms reaching. Thomas ducked and swept his sword up. Evadne was too quick and dodged back, aiming a fist at him.

The blow caught Thomas in the shoulder and knocked him sprawling into the pavement. He rolled over, tasting blood, dazed for a moment. Evadne was standing over him. The fay’s burned flesh hung in ribbons and the death’s-head grimace of his mouth below the childishly petulant eyes was terrible. Evadne hesitated, obviously torn between the desire to kill Thomas immediately and the need to rip the keystone out of its niche. Thomas struggled to stand and got no further than his knees.

Something distracted Evadne. He cocked his ruined head, then turned in a crouch. Urbain Grandier stood at the bottom of the steps. Thomas had not seen him come down either; the old man might have materialized out of the air.

Evadne straightened his tall frame slowly. “You betrayed me, sorcerer.”

Grandier started toward them, his steps unhurried. “Did I?”

“But I betrayed you.”

Grandier stopped. His expression had not changed, but something in the very stillness in which he stood there was daunting.

Evadne’s grin was terrible. “I bargained with your creature Dontane to destroy you. The human prince you sought to put on the throne would have given me everything I wanted.”

Grandier sighed. “That hardly surprises me.”

Evadne’s look of disappointment would have been comical on any creature less maimed and ruined. Thomas crawled back to the pillar and leaned against the niche concealing the keystone. Grandier would have no difficulty in killing him and taking it away, but he meant to keep it in place as long as he could. If Kade hadn’t managed to kill herself for him, it would give her more time to escape. The fay wheeling around in the air overhead were moving with purpose now. At the far end of the great cellar they were whipping themselves into some kind of frenzy, flying in a great circle around one of the pillars. A wind was rising out of nowhere in the chamber.

Grandier shook his head, his features twisting for a moment in disgust. He said, “And what has your scheming gotten you?” His voice rose. “There is an army at the gates! A human army with iron and sorcerers to destroy you, and an army of the Seelie Court waits for you in the air.”

Thomas realized it was the first time he had ever seen Grandier show anger. Evadne snarled, “They cannot destroy—” The pillar the fay were circling on the far side of the chamber suddenly shattered into dust. More fay were joining the circle and others on the floor below were swept up into it. And disappearing. The Host was forming a ring, Thomas realized, and remembered the broken foundation in the Grand Gallery. They’re going to bring the ceiling down.

“Command your Host then; gather your court!” Grandier gestured contemptuously at the fleeing creatures, at the ring forming in the air. “Could you not control your greed for a few days? Could you not have waited until we won to betray me?” He turned his back, as if he were unable to look at the product of his own folly anymore.

He’s speaking to Denzil, Thomas thought. Denzil, who was very good at causing chaos but not so practiced at bringing order out of it. Grandier had betrayed Evadne as well, or tried to; he must know he had no right to expect loyalty from a prince of the Unseelie Court. It was the defection of his human allies that maddened him. And if Thomas was correctly interpreting the expression on the fay’s ruined face, Evadne didn’t understand one word in three.

Evadne shook his head, “Lies again. I made you, sorcerer.” His voice dripped contempt. “And I’ll destroy you.”

Evadne started forward. Grandier turned, his hand moving suddenly. Evadne started back in surprised anger, raising his arms to protect his face. Yes, Grandier still kept his pocket of iron filings.

Then Grandier raised his hands, speaking softly.

Evadne shook his head and raked a hand across his face, leaving bloody streaks where the filings had touched him. He sneered, “And what do you intend to do to me, old man?”

This creature has no sense of self-preservation, Thomas thought in wonder.

“I’m going to turn your blood to iron,” Grandier told him, and his voice held no anger. “It’s a spell I prepared for just such an occasion as this, a derivative of a common alchemical process, which you would know if you studied sorcery.”

“I gave you your power,” Evadne said. He smiled at the old man. “Destroy me and you will lose it. You will be trapped in this shape forever.”

Grandier hesitated. Then just as Evadne made to move forward, Grandier gestured sharply. Evadne froze. Grandier walked toward him, and as he moved past the silent fay, he pushed Evadne’s arm. The corpse toppled and fell, breaking into dust as it struck the floor.

The Host was disappearing rapidly now, the ring a wild circle of airborne stones, splintered wood, mangled fay bodies, and other debris. Thomas leaned back against the pillar and looked up as Grandier reached him. “Well,” Thomas said, “What now?”

“I still have no regrets.” Grandier smiled. His seamed face showed all the weight of his own years as well as Galen Dubell’s. “Except perhaps my choice of allies.”

“And your choice of enemies?” Kade was leaning next to the pillar at Thomas’s side. He hadn’t seen her approach and felt a surge of relief so intense it was painful.

Grandier watched her a moment, then said gravely, “Yes, that as well.”

“So Villon’s troop is here,” Thomas said. Trying to keep his attention on Grandier, he didn’t look up at Kade.

Grandier nodded. “Denzil thought the General would hold Bel Garde and attack from there. He did not. He entered the city late this afternoon and is now attempting to force St. Anne’s Gate.”

Aviler got through, and Villon decided to risk an assault rather than be trapped in Bel Garde, Thomas thought. And you think he’s forcing St. Anne’s Gate, but Aviler can tell him that with the Gate House unmanned, the Postern is indefensible. Raising his voice to be heard over the howling wind, he said, “Why aren’t you trying to stop him?”

“I came to stop Kade from replacing the keystone, and to summon the Host.” Grandier could still take the keystone, but he made no move to do so. The wind was tearing at their hair, taking their breath away. Grandier squinted into it, then shook his head regretfully. “I fear you and the High Minister were correct. Despite all my experience with violence and treachery, I am still politically naive.”

Thomas couldn’t see Galen Dubell in that lined and weary face anymore, as if it were no longer a disguise. As if Grandier himself was actually completely present in that shell for the first time.

Kade eyed him, unimpressed. “You killed one of my only friends, and I’ll never forgive you.”

Grandier’s calm gaze went to her. “I cannot argue with that sentiment.”

Still wary, Thomas asked, “What will you do now?”

Grandier looked startled. Then his knees buckled and he started to collapse, his thin form giving way like an empty sack. Thomas caught him as the old man sagged against the flagstones. As Grandier slumped over forward he saw the bloody gaping hole in his back.

He looked up, automatically tracing the line of fire. Denzil stood on the second tier of steps, handing a smoking musket to an Alsene trooper. They had heard nothing; the musket’s blast had been carried away in the wind caused by the ring and the Host’s departure.

Kade crouched beside Thomas, her face white and drawn in the rapidly shifting light. The trooper handed Denzil another loaded musket. Thomas pushed Grandier’s body aside and stood, dragging Kade with him, putting the pillar between them and Denzil’s line of fire. “They’ll come after us. We have to—”

Kade shook her head. “It’s too late.” He could barely hear her over the growing roar of the wind.

There was a crash that reverberated through the stone beneath them. The swirling mass of the ring seemed to lose its structure as the last of the Host winked out of existence. It flung out a deadly hail of rocks and splintered wood, then it drifted crazily, moving sideways toward them across the large