Cursed Bones

chapter 42



Ixabrax flew low and fast, skimming over the treetops, ducking into valleys and skirting around hills to remain unseen by the soldiers manning Zuhl’s watchtowers. Abigail reveled in the intensity of flight, savoring the cold air on her face and exulting in the falling sensation she felt every time Ixabrax dipped into a low spot. All too soon, he flared his wings and brought the harrowing ride to an abrupt halt, delivering Abigail, Anatoly, and Magda to a secluded clearing boxed in on three sides by steep cliffs. Ixabrax worked his way under the trees to remain as inconspicuous as possible while he waited for Abigail to free his family.

They approached along the stream that fed into Whitehall’s cistern, moving cautiously, maintaining a keen sense of awareness with every step. Magda tapped both Abigail and Anatoly on the shoulder, signaling that they were close enough for her to disable the guards on the nearest tower.

After a few moments, two scything pinwheels of faintly glowing magical force appeared over her head for just an instant before they shot forth, decapitating each soldier without a sound.

“Nice,” Anatoly said … just a moment too soon.

A horn blew from the topmost tower of the keep, followed by a blindingly bright light emanating from the same tower and illuminating the spot where they stood, alerting the entire fortress to their exact location.

“How did he see us?” Anatoly asked, spinning his axe into his hands.

“Magic,” Magda said. “If I had to guess, I’d say a sensitivity spell.”

“So much for that plan,” Abigail said, heading toward the grate.

She slipped into the frigid water, bracing for the sting of cold that never came, thanks to the dragon draught. The grate was made of stout steel bars that fell to the Thinblade without resistance.

Anatoly entered the passage first, followed by Abigail and then Magda. It was narrow and dark and they were up to their armpits in water so cold they would have already succumbed were it not for the magical protection of the dragon draught.

Not three steps into the passage, the water several feet in front of Anatoly erupted, spraying everywhere. He ducked his head, shielding his eyes from the sudden spray as an explosion rocked the passage. Fine steel darts flew in every direction, emanating from a device that had sprung out of the water and detonated in a deadly shower of well-honed steel. Anatoly’s armor protected him and shielded Abigail and Magda behind him as well, but he had no doubt that normal armor would have been no match for the force behind each needle-sharp dart.

“What was that?” Abigail asked, working her jaw to pop her ears.

“A trap spell,” Magda said. “I know similar magic … it’s called a porcupine spell. It’s cast upon a specially prepared item, which is then placed and activated. From then on, anyone who approaches the spell will trigger it.”

“Can you tell if there are any more?” Anatoly asked.

“Yes, but it may trigger the security field.”

“I don’t think that matters now,” Abigail said.

“Fair enough,” Magda said, working her way past Anatoly in the narrow passage. After nearly a minute of whispering to herself, a wave of hazy blue energy emanated from her hands and spread out down the passage. As it passed over two spots in the water, hidden objects pulsed blue, as did the security field.

“Looks like two more,” Anatoly said. “I’ll trigger them while you two stay back.”

Anatoly approached the devices with his arms raised across his face and his head down so his armor would take the entire attack. Once the danger had passed, Magda came forward and dispelled the security field. As they pushed through the water, they heard shouting from behind them—soldiers had discovered their point of entry.

The sound of the soldiers’ voices faded before they reached the second grate barring the way into the main cistern. Abigail cut it open in seconds and then they were struggling to swim to the ledge surrounding the majority of the cistern.

After they reached the ledge and helped one another out of the water, they heard the muted roar of a drakini. The water was far too cold for the soldiers to survive, but the drakini had no such weakness.

Alexander appeared next to them. “All of Zuhl’s forces are either moving to engage you or falling back to the main manor house to reinforce its defenses.”

“Zuhl thinks we’re after him,” Anatoly said, chuckling.

“If you’d ever had a conversation with the man, you’d understand,” Abigail said. “Which one of these passages leads to his manor?”

Alexander smiled, pointing to one of five large grated passages leading out of the cistern that fed the entire keep with water.

“Watch for the drakini,” Abigail said, drawing the Thinblade. She made her way to each grate, cutting it into pieces with a few well-placed slices. She cut through the last of the five when the first drakini reached the entrance and launched into the air.

A light-blue magical rope leapt forth from Magda’s hand, wrapping itself around the drakini, binding its wings and sending it tumbling into the water. Abigail calmly drew an arrow and killed the creature with one well-placed shot before leading the way into the passage to the dragon’s aerie. It was long and straight with a six-foot-deep, four-foot-wide trench filled with water bordered on one side by a two-foot-wide walkway. They moved as quickly as possible under Magda’s conjured light.

The walkway ended abruptly, but the water-filled trench continued under the wall, through a grate and into the watering pond for Zuhl’s dragons.

Alexander appeared. “There are two handlers in the aerie right now. All six dragons are asleep. I’m going to distract Zuhl and find out why my book didn’t kill him. Oh, and your ruse worked. The rest of the drakini went toward the main keep.”

“Thanks, Alex,” Abigail said as her brother disappeared.

She let herself down into the water very gently, Thinblade in hand, and carefully cut the grate from the walls while Anatoly held it to ensure it didn’t make any noise. Abigail went through first, carefully breaking the surface and gently floating to the edge of the water. Peering over the side of the stone-lined pool, she saw a giant room lit only by daylight streaming through a large hole in the exact center of the dome.

Around the walls lay sleeping dragons.

Abigail took a deep breath and pulled herself out of the water, crouching down in the shadows near the pond while she schooled her breathing and calmed her pounding heart, water streaming out of her armor and boots.

Anatoly and Magda pulled themselves from the water on either side of Abigail while she searched the aerie for the two handlers. Seeing no sign of them, she scanned for the largest dragon. He was curled up next to the wall on the far side.

Carefully, cautiously, painstakingly, they moved through the shadows, choosing each step with care. When they drew to within thirty feet of the dragon, Abigail motioned for Anatoly and Magda to stop while she continued toward Izzulft, Thinblade drawn and at the ready, Ixabrax’s tooth held high in the other hand.

“Hey, who are you?” a handler said, stepping through the threshold of one of the man-sized doors leading out of the aerie.

Izzulft opened his eyes and reared up, poised to strike. Anatoly faced the handler while Magda muttered under her breath.

“I’m here to help you … Ixabrax is waiting outside,” Abigail whispered loudly. “I can cut that collar off of your neck.”

“He gave you a tooth?”

Magda launched a handful of smoking pellets at the handler that burned out before they hit the ground but left a cloud of thick blue smoke surrounding him. A moment later, he wavered on his feet and then slumped to the ground.

“Yes,” Abigail said, waving the tooth at Izzulft, bringing his attention back from Magda’s spell. “We have to hurry. Bring that collar closer and I’ll cut it off.”

“Do not deceive me, Human,” Izzulft said, lowering his neck slowly and tentatively.

Abigail didn’t hesitate. As soon as he was close enough, she slipped the blade through the collar and cut it open with one smooth stroke. He reared back in surprise and then looked at Abigail as if seeing her for the very first time. Before she could blink, he snatched her up and launched into a low glide across the aerie toward the next largest dragon.

Alexander floated into a large, well-appointed but lifeless and impersonal chamber. He found Zuhl standing on a balcony in the cold, looking out over his vast army in the distance. Without a word, Alexander appeared beside him.

If Zuhl was startled he didn’t show it, instead simply looking at Alexander and nodding respectfully.

“Hello, Lord Reishi. I must congratulate you on your ruse and on discovering mine so quickly. You’re proving to be a more worthy adversary than I ever imagined.”

“Did you think I wouldn’t see through an imposter posing as my own sister?”

“I expected you would, but there was a chance you wouldn’t—easily worth the risk, considering the paltry cost of a single priestess weighed against the potential reward. While I didn’t really expect you to give me the lich book, I was quite surprised by what you did give me. It killed Mage Harkness, you know—a victory in your column by any account, yet also a potential defeat. You see, I have a few ideas for how to use the magic in that book, ideas that probably never even occurred to you, ideas that only a necromancer would conceive of. You may have done yourself grave harm, though I do applaud your initiative. Defeating worthy adversaries such as you and your rather resourceful sister will make my ultimate conquest all the more sweet.”

“You’re broken in the head, Zuhl. You’re going to die, permanently, before this is all over. See, while I was looking for you, I actually found the chamber where you keep your real body. I know,” Alexander said, holding up his hands to forestall Zuhl’s protest, “your chamber is warded, I shouldn’t be able to see inside, but I can. I figured out how to circumvent those kinds of magical defenses a few weeks ago. In short, I know where you sleep, and one of these days, I’m going to walk into that room and cut you in half.”

“And yet today, here you stand, nothing but a projection, impotent. Even if you do manage to kill me, how will you defeat them?” Zuhl asked, presenting his army with an outstretched hand. “Face it, you’re doomed, it’s just a matter of time … and I’m very patient.”

“Without you, your soldiers will lose interest in the rest of the world and go back to fighting each other.”

“So kill me then, if you can,” Zuhl said, then held up his hand with a look of confusion mixed with concern as he examined a ring on his middle finger that was glowing brightly.

“How can this be?” Zuhl said, looking out at the giant dragon aerie and seeing nothing to indicate any trouble, then walking quickly out the door, his guards falling in behind him without a word.

Alexander shifted to the clearing where Ixabrax was hiding.

“Zuhl knows what we’re doing—they might need your help.”

“Understood,” Ixabrax said, unfurling his wings and stretching them before launching into the sky.