The Bone Mask Trilogy: (An Epic Fantasy Boxed Set), page 103
Show me.
No, there is no need. Return to your body, daughter. Medoro and the others need your protection to reach Celno’s Temple.
She shook her head. They have Flir. You need me. It won’t be long before they try something else – like storming the inn. Once they do, you’ll be in danger.
A little longer – I must give them time. He said, his voice beginning to show signs of strain. Just how many of the Ecsoli was he holding back?
Even the odds.
Sofia ran for the door, charging into the storm. The line of Ecsoli faltered at her appearance, one lashing a hand at her – but nothing happened. Move, quickly – use the weather. The rising fury of the storm echoed along the rain-swept streets and with Argeon’s help she reached up, as she had with the fire in the Bloodwood, as she had with the smoke at Metti’s, and dragged down the hail and wind, casting it at the line of Ecsoli.
Water cascaded into them. Most of the men kept their footing, but several slipped to the cobblestones. Thunder clapped. Lightning seared the sky and shouts rose as she hit them again. And then a third time, each blast of wind and rain knocking another man down.
Sheer power buzzed around her, like a nest of giant wasps.
White flashed. The street exploded in a shower of stone and dirt, fragments smashing windows and bouncing from walls. All passed through her spirit form. Yet the Ecsoli were not safe – those that kept their feet stumbled back, while yet others had been cast away, only to be borne down toward the Lower Tier as the wind raged.
Somewhere, in darkness with flashing shadows and light, her body shuddered, a trembling that she couldn’t stop.
“Sofia, it’s too much.” It was Notch, shouting in the aqueducts.
Just a little more.
But the storm lessened. The wind died off and rain eased – she called for more but there was none. Bodies of the giants and Ecsoli were scattered before her and while some moved, most did not.
Yet it was the figures beyond that gave her pause.
More Ecsoli, scores of them, masks and gauntlets aglow as they banished the storm. The lead figure came to a halt, still half a block distant, and clapped his hands together – and his own spirit-form appeared. The Ecsoli’s spirit charged forward, covering the distance so quickly that she flinched, flinging up her hands and pushing back. The spirit-Ecsoli stopped. A force hammered into her wall and she ground her teeth.
A new pain grew.
What was happening?
The Ecsoli came no closer, but the pain emanated from him – there was no doubt. And it was different, deeper, than the shuddering that had wracked her body beneath the city. Was he attacking her bones via her Spirit? Sofia gave a shout but the agony from the Ecsoli’s attack drowned it, drowned out Notch’s voice, downed everything.
Something speared into the Ecsoli.
Another spirit-form – Father! The two spirits grappled in the street, shapes transparent, limbs flashing, impossible to follow. The Ecsoli was tinted red and Father blue, and for now, Father seemed to have the upper hand.
The pain vanished.
Sofia rose. Beyond the struggle, the rest of the Ecsoli were closing in. It was time to leave. They’d won enough time to empty the inn, surely?
Father! We have to leave.
Flee, Petal.
Not without you. Sofia circled the struggle, flexing her hands into fists as she waited. Not yet, not yet, wait for the right moment. There. She dived for the legs of the Ecsoli spirit, dragging him down – sinking into the street! He resisted and the sinking slowed, but Father appeared above and his wispy hands closed over the Ecsoli’s Greatmask, tearing it free. A twisted face lay beneath. The eyes were bulging and darkness swirled from within its open mouth.
The spirit vanished and in the street, the Ecsoli’s body collapsed before the crowds of blue-cloaks. A moment of confused silence fell over the rows of Ecsoli, and then they charged almost as one.
Go now, her father said, and he lifted her and shoved her toward the inn – Sofia opened her eyes to the aqueducts, lamplight wavering on the green-tinted stonework.
“Thank the Gods,” a voice exclaimed. Notch.
She groaned. Her arms and legs, even her torso ached, as if she’d been wrung out. Then she sat bolt upright. “Father.”
“He’ll find us,” Notch said. “Can you walk?”
She called to Argeon yet he would not let her Spirit-Walk – why? She shuddered, where was her strength?
“Sofia?” Notch offered his arm.
She accepted his help, pulling herself up on wobbling legs. Each step was an effort. The stones beneath her boots seemed so uneven though her eyes told her the ground was level. “If you help me I think I can manage.”
“Good. The others have gone on without us.”
Sofia gripped his arm; even her fingers were weak. “Wait. I can’t leave him.”
“You have to trust him,” he said. “He will find a way. We need you too.”
Sofia hung her head. If she went back...if she was quick there might be a chance she could still help him. And yet, she could barely walk even with Notch’s help and he wasn’t going to take her back. Tears stung her eyes. She was useless to Father.
Please, Ana, protect him.
Chapter 37.
Kanis sneered at the Ecsoli and split another hunk of stone with the great hammer they’d given him. The two halves of the boulder fell apart like a huge grey apple, dull beneath the overcast sky. Fat drops of rain spotted everything in the courtyard, stone and cloth alike, even hissing against the braziers.
“Got anything bigger?” he muttered.
The line of Ecsoli conferred a moment, speaking Old Anaskari, then split apart. Several headed for the nearest stairwell while others remained in place – one was Bethana and the other the man, from his lopsided shoulder, whom Kanis took to be Xanus, the Lady’s second.
He gripped the handle of the huge hammer. Was he fast enough? Could he hurl it at the retreating Ecsoli without Bethana stopping him? Would he survive the repercussions? Even the ‘reading’ they’d performed had been painful enough. And not simply on a physical level. He’d betrayed Flir and her group. Not by choice, but that didn’t matter. If the troop of Ecsoli, at least a score of them, and their Gigansi, killed the defenders of the city, it wouldn’t matter his intent.
They’d still be dead; he’d still be at fault.
And he couldn’t lose Flir.
Kanis lowered the weapon. Not worth the risk. Even with the attack party absent, there had to be well over a hundred left behind. Escape was close to impossible. It wasn’t that he couldn’t break any bonds, but they were always watching – and now, testing and prodding him in a pointless effort to discover his limits.
Bethana waved her red-painted fingers and his bones were dragged forward. “Impressive, slave,” she said, switching to modern Anaskari.
Kanis said nothing. White hot snapping of bone had taught him well.
“Xanus, send for Marinus; he’s shielding. Then gather the men.”
It seemed the woman could not reach the Ecsoli leader with her mind-speak. She folded her arms and glittering eyes regarded him from behind the Greatmask. Even from a distance of a few feet the force of her power pressed against him.
Once Xanus left, Bethana began to pace before Kanis. “You heal quickly.”
Again, he did not speak.
“Tell me of your endurance?”
A direct question – now was the time to speak. “Significantly improved over that of a normal man, My Lady.”
“Could you swim the harbour?”
“Easily enough.”
On she paced until finally coming to a halt before him once more, eyes tilted down. A head taller than Kanis, Bethana was quite unlike Renovar women. “Tell me, how precious is the life of the other woman, the one who is like you?”
Kanis frowned. “Why, My Lady?”
“Because I have a task for you and if you achieve it, her life is yours. If you fail, I will have her cut into various pieces, something I doubt your wondrous healing skills can negate. Do you understand?”
When did they capture, Flir? During the raid? “I must see her.”
“Must?”
“Must.”
Was she smiling behind the mask? “Come now, you have no choice – you have to act like you believe me. You have to hope that everything you do is not for naught. Vexing, I imagine.”
“Yes, My Lady, very,” he said, and clenched his jaw. If only he could lash out and –
“And surely you would have no quarrel with killing Marinus?”
He blinked. Just what was her game then? “Assuming it is possible.”
Bethana did not answer. Instead, she turned to the stairwell. A broad shouldered Ecsoli strode across the courtyard, the silver inlay of his breastplate catching the warm glow of the braziers. He stopped before Bethana with barely a glance at Kanis and the boulder. The man’s mask was streaked with age, older than the other masks – yet not so ancient-seeming as those worn by the Lord Protector and his daughter. “What is so important that you must speak with me? I depart at noon and there is much yet to complete.”
She sketched a bow. “Your Highness. I offer you a gift.”
Marinus turned to Kanis and folded his arms. “Him?”
“Yes. I felt he would be useful during your search – his strength is beyond that of any of those we have captured. For instance, he split that rock by the strength of his arm alone.”
“Impressive enough but we can do as much ourselves.”
“Of course, but his endurance is also inhuman.” She approached Kanis, who found himself immobilised. “And there is this.” She put a hand on his shoulder. He stiffened. She was going to – bone snapped.
Kanis screamed but kept his feet, arm dangling uselessly.
Yet already the healing began.
Mishalar smiled upon him still. Bone shifted together, blood surging and muscle re-weaving around the break. It wasn’t instant but at Bethana’s command, he was soon able to lift his arm, with a wince, but lift it he could.
Marinus’ stance shifted from nonchalance to interest.
“And in less than an hour, he will be able to swing that hammer again. He may be a useful slave if you find the path up the mountain to be blocked and felt you wanted to conserve your own or the gauntlets of your men.”
“Indeed,” Marinus said. “You have done well.”
She bowed, deeper this time.
He turned on his heel. “Once he is fit to travel, escort him to the wall.”
“On your word, Highness.”
Once the Ecsoli leader was gone, Bethana moved to one of the hunks of stone. With a snap of her wrist, she flipped it over with a thud, and sat. “Listen carefully, slave. There will come a time when Marinus must lower his guard to use the Crucible, to undo whatever his brother has done. That is when you strike.” She paused to describe the Crucible and he waited. “I will be with you, though he will not see me. I will strip away most of his defences, allowing you a chance to strike. He will not be powerless, the gauntlets will hold something, but you should be a match. Do you follow so far?”
“Yes. But how will you be with me?”
“In a quiet but painful way.”
He narrowed his eyes. More pain? This woman was going to be hideously sorry when he found a way out...unless she really did have Flir somewhere. Damn her; the Ecsoli had everything she needed to control him.
She stood, removed her gauntlets then took his hand. Her fingers were smooth, as if they’d been protected all her life. “Ready?”
The point of his smallest finger snapped.
Kanis ground his teeth. When she produced a knife he flinched back – or tried to. Bethana chuckled. “Don’t be so skittish. You’ll heal.” She sliced into his finger. Stinging blood welled. “And quicker than I.” She pulled the tip of his finger-bone out and opened her free hand, leaving the bloody piece of bone in the palm. Then she paused and another muted snap filled the courtyard as her own little finger broke.
She sliced into it with a muttering he could not catch, and removed the point, placing them one beside the other.
“Similar, don’t you think?”
Then she placed her bone into the bloody sock of his finger. She repeated the process with his bone and closed a hand over her wound a moment. “Come, we’re going to see a healer.”
Pain tingled up from his finger but the new bone was already being accepted by his body, knitting with the old. The flesh and skin were slower, but for such a minor wound it did not take long to heal – they’d barely gone down two corridors by the time the pain faded.
He flexed his fingers – they responded perfectly – and yet, there was something wrong about it.
She was within him.
She was now a part of him.
Yes – see how I follow you? How no-one will see or even overhear me?
“You must truly want Marinus dead,” Kanis said.
“Not so. I only want his role; it is not he. I would seek the death of whoever stood in my way.”
“Is the Ecsoli throne so desirable?”
“Yes.”
“I see. And how will I know –”
“Enough, slave. I will guide you.”
Kanis closed his mouth.
Chapter 38.
Sofia sat nearest the ladder, tapping her foot, keeping the great doors within earshot and, if she needed, within sight – as all she had to do was climb a few rungs. Yet her father did not stride through the doors, nor did Holindo or Emilio, each who stood watch, appear to say the Lord Protector approached.
And neither could Argeon find Father or Osani, though Sofia did her best to search for him, whispering along the city, even as she weaved the smoke screen Metti taught her – expanding it far, far across the area of the temple, adding one other as a decoy. It took some effort, managing everything and keeping up with the conversation, but she did, for the most part.
The Ecsoli would eventually locate them despite her tricks, but it didn’t matter. They’d be moving again soon enough, if Flir had her way. And Sofia agreed. It was past time to act again.
Of all who’d gathered in the Harper before, most were now present in the Temple, crammed around a small table in caretaker’s run-down room. Mayla attended Metti and the children, Alcina and the others where they rested in the rooms and only Kanis missing – a fact that troubled Notch, if his deep frown was anything to go by when the dilar’s name was brought up.
Flir herself didn’t appear too pleased. There was a history between the two – any fool could see that, but was he Flir’s enemy or friend? And what did his absence mean for everyone, for the city? The man knew much of their plans...and the Ecsoli’s attack had been sudden...
“Flir, don’t let your past sway you,” Notch was saying. “We don’t know why he’s gone and we should believe the worst. Consider what happened earlier.”
“I’m not letting anything sway me, Notch. I’m just not writing him off yet. He hates the Ecsoli, don’t worry about that.”
“Could he have been captured?” Pevin asked.
Flir sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t even know why he left; we already had the acor. But I’ll try to find him. For now, I want to focus on the next step. From Sofia we know that the Ecsoli were scrying. They used her store of bone to narrow the search and she protects us even now.”
“I’m still holding them off, we have some time,” Sofia said.
“Good.” Flir tapped her fingers on the tabletop. “We have to strike back. If we continue to hide there’ll be nothing left for us but to be hunted down. They have the numbers, they have the masks.”
“So where to now?” Notch asked.
“Here is what I propose. First, we use Holindo’s men and Seto’s thieves to assist with laying acor as traps around the city. We set bait and target those to respond, keep them off-balance – distract them from our true goal. Second is locating Lavinia and Abrensi – we still need their power, if they have survived. They were last seen at the Tier wall, so whoever heads into the mountain will search for not only them but Seto too, all while racing Marinus to Vinezi and the Crucible, our third goal. Simple, right?” She grinned. “And if we can steal the Crucible from either, Sofia should be able to use it to forge two Greatsuits. That will be a start, we can use them to win more bone.”
“What about after?” Pevin asked. “Are you sure cutting the head from the snake will kill the body?”
Sofia nodded. “Father thinks Marinus is already at war with the Houses he has surrounded himself with. We have to exploit that.”
“What of the other Crucible?” Notch asked Flir. “That man you met, Bodol? He believed he came across one beneath the city. The Ecsoli were using the children to search the aqueducts too.”
“Doesn’t it stand to reason that Anaskar would have its own Crucible? My Lady?” Pevin asked Sofia.
“Father never mentioned it when we discussed the Crucible but...there is much we don’t know about our own city, it seems. Like the Sea Shrine,” she said.
Flir sighed. “I still say it is Vinezi’s that they seek. Perhaps they believe he lost it somehow and I am inclined to agree,” Flir said. “After all, he never made a suit like the ones his countrymen own. And consider their actions now – according to Danillo the Ecsoli are mobilising for a search into the mountains.”
“Or was it to attack the Harper?” Notch asked.
“Or both?” Flir countered.
He shrugged. “Who knows? We’re doing something either way, aren’t we?”
Sofia stood, stretching her legs. She bumped into a broom as she moved about the cramped room. “If he carries bone, I can find Bodol and we can ask him what he knows. Can you describe him to me?”
“I didn’t see him clearly,” Flir said.
“Anything will help. His scent, the way he moves, the sound of his voice.”
“I’ll try.”
Sofia continued to pace, blinking at a growing headache. Holding on to both smokescreens was taking its toll. The Ecsoli continued to prod at her screen, though hesitant after what she’d done at Metti’s, they were persistent. Could they trace her if she retaliated? Did she even have the strength? When was the last time she had a full night’s sleep?
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