Lorelle of the Dark, page 28
The Dark, intertwined with Lorelle’s soul, suddenly clenched, freezing her. Her dagger stopped an inch from the Giant’s flesh.
She screamed and crashed to her knees on the marble floor next to Aravelle’s crushed body.
The Dark hauled her upright.
“Rrnnnngggrgh!” she shouted, and that was the last sound to come out of her mouth. She tried to fight the force that had taken control of her body, but she couldn’t.
“I am Lord Tovos,” the Giant said, turning around and looking down at her. “That was a nice bit of shadow-shifting. Zaith was right about your talent.”
Her body turned and began walking awkwardly toward the shattered window. Lorelle’s body marched like a marionette on strings.
“But he was wrong about everything else. When put to the test, he failed. I will put you to the test very soon, Lorelle friend of Rhennaria Laochodon. Pray you do not fail me. Pray you never know what it is like to fail me, for you are about to see what happens to one who has.”
Her body awkwardly ducked through the shattered window and started up the smoky hallway, and Lorelle watched from within herself with growing horror.
At a gesture from Tovos, the smoke cleared like it had before, falling to the ground. He walked sedately behind her.
“Your connection is exquisite. And once we have you fully bonded, this won’t be such a struggle for either of us. But time enough for that later,” Tovos said.
Fully bonded… With the Dark.
The dragon’s words returned to her.
You don’t know who Tovos is. I would bet Zaith does. But he is your friend, yes? Your good friend. Your trusted friend who would never do anything to harm you?
Despair flooded through her.
“Zzzaith!” she managed to say despite the fact that the Dark tried to keep her jaw clenched tight. The golden lock of hair at her brow blazed as she struggled against the compulsion. Zaith had been working with this Giant! That’s what the dragon had been saying.
“Yes, Zaith,” Tovos said. “A disappointment, in the end. His softness for you cost him his people.” Lord Tovos gestured at the smoking, flaming ruin of the city of Nox Arvak as they emerged onto the veranda, where only minutes ago, Nox had played music and danced. Now it was charred, blackened, and covered in ash. “And soon it is going to cost him his life.”
Lorelle’s body reached the bottom of the stairs and preceded the Giant between the flickering fires, the smoke, and the sweltering heat. She stepped forward against her will into the ruined city, and she screamed inside.
Her golden lock flared, but this time her mouth made no sound.
Chapter Forty-five
Khyven
“Lorelle!” Zaith said, and the name took the wind from Khyven’s chest.
He stared at the Nox woman, and his stupefaction fought with his Ringer training. He should kill Zaith or secure him somehow, render him unconscious, but Khyven’s sword point dipped.
Lorelle? Impossible. He blinked at the Nox woman’s height, her bearing, her slender build… Everything except her midnight skin and hair looked just like…
“Lorelle?” he blurted.
She looked at him with no expression.
“Keep your wits about you, Khyven the Unkillable,” Zaith warned softly, his surprise giving way to suspicion.
“What did you do to her?”
Something moved behind Lorelle. A figure rose from the smoke and shadows, coming up the back side of the hill. The man’s head appeared first, rising higher as he climbed. Then Khyven realized the figure was no man. Stride after stride, his head and shoulders emerged taller and larger until he stood by Lorelle’s side, towering over her.
“Um, that’s a Giant,” Slayter murmured.
The presence of the creature pushed at Khyven. He couldn’t seem to look directly at the thing’s eyes. Its glare was like staring into the sun, and the face, with its lip curling in derision, reminded him of Harkandos, the statue Slayter had brought to life.
“That’s Tovos,” Slayter said excitedly. “That’s got to be Tovos.”
“Shut up, Slayter.” Khyven fought to look the Giant in the eye, but his heart hammered. Cold sweat broke out on his forehead. He grunted and looked away, focusing on the Giant’s chest.
“What did you do to her?” Khyven demanded.
“She has come home,” Tovos said. “She doesn’t belong to the lands of daylight anymore. She belongs to me.”
Khyven clenched his teeth and his knuckles turned white on the hilt of his sword. “That’s what you think,” he growled.
“Khyven wait,” Slayter said.
Zaith slowly stood and faced the Giant, crouching on his good leg and dragging his wounded leg upright. He hadn’t removed the dagger.
“You have failed me for the final time, Glimmerblade,” Tovos said. “I have come to express my displeasure.”
“You’re a liar…” Zaith whispered. “You don’t deserve to be our Lord, Tovos. You killed them all…”
“Told you,” Slayter said wonderingly. “Tovos.”
“Shut up, Slayter,” Khyven said.
“Take care how you speak to me, Glimmerblade. I’ve come to pass judgment upon you for failing me. But there are worse things than death.” Tovos started down the rise, his long legs covering an enormous distance with each stride. He made it to the bottom in three steps. Lorelle came after, still staring blankly ahead.
“Yes, I know that now,” Zaith said, his eyes glittering.
“You released Jai’ketakos,” Tovos said. “If you’d completed her bonding like I commanded, that would not have happened. Do not blame me.”
“You sent us to the dragon’s lair!”
“To bolster your weakness.”
“My weakness…”
“Kneel. Take your punishment like a true servant of the Dark,” Tovos said.
“I should never have knelt to you in the first place,” Zaith said through gritted teeth. He leaned down and recovered his sword. “I should have fought you from the first. I should have died that day beside E’lan. I won’t make that mistake again. Kill me now, you horrendous aberration. Or glance over your shoulder for the rest of your unholy life.”
“Kill you? I wouldn’t give you the honor of dying by my hand.” Tovos sneered. He made a gesture and Lorelle leapt forward.
During the bizarre confrontation between Zaith and Tovos, questions abounded in Khyven’s mind. Horrendous aberration? Wasn’t Zaith Tovos’s servant? Why did he suddenly seem like a potential ally? And Lorelle… Obviously she was under a spell. Could Slayter, or even Khyven, break it somehow?
Khyven’s Ringer training reengaged and the blue wind swirled around the entire group. In the Night Ring, questions didn’t matter unless they could be answered in the split second before he had to react. These couldn’t. That meant they were just baggage.
Khyven jumped to meet Lorelle’s charge, making it seem as though he was going to stop her.
At the last second, he swept past her and charged the Giant.
It worked. A half dozen dark funnels appeared all over the Giant’s body. Khyven jumped high, sword cocked back, ready to plunge the point into Tovos’s neck.
While in midair, a hundred spears came at him from every side, so close he didn’t see them in time, so quick he couldn’t dodge them. The very air of the noktum came alive, shooting forward as dark tentacles.
Khyven shouted, thrusting desperately at the blue funnel over Tovos’s neck—
The point of his sword came half an inch from his target, but the tentacles of shadow yanked him up short, then slithered around him. He spun like a spindle gathering thread until he was completely bound in shadow.
“You should have stayed in your castle,” Tovos said.
Khyven grunted as the shadows tightened, squeezing so hard his back popped. His right arm, trapped against his body, dropped his sword. His left, caught away from his body, dangled over his head at an awkward angle. Slayter cried out, and Khyven craned his neck to see the mage also wrapped in solid shadows.
“The rest of you are now my servants,” Tovos said. “Watch closely. This is what happens to those who fail me.”
Lorelle approached Zaith, who raised his sword, but without conviction.
She knocked his sword away with her blade. It broke from his grip and landed on the grass, just out of reach. Lorelle pirouetted behind him, grabbed a handful of Zaith’s hair, and yanked his head back, exposing his throat. She laid her short sword against his throat.
“Lorelle, I’m sorry.” Zaith didn’t resist. “I’m so sorry.”
“Lorelle, don’t!” Khyven struggled against the grip of the shadows. He was no stranger to death, no stranger to killing. But Lorelle was. “Don’t let him control you!”
Lorelle glanced at Khyven, her blade poised over Zaith’s throat. Her eyes were completely black, like oil had seeped across her eyeballs.
Zaith didn’t make any attempt to defend himself.
The blue wind swirled toward Khyven, around his bound body and up to his neck…
And formed into a single blue funnel over his right shoulder.
It wasn’t a target, not on Khyven’s enemy, at least. It wasn’t at the Giant’s neck or chest. It wasn’t on Tovos at all. Instead, the blue funnel swirled directly around the hilt of the Mavric iron sword on his back.
The sword whined in agreement.
Free of the shadow bindings, Khyven’s dangling left arm could draw the sword.
This was more than just seeing weaknesses or attacks. It was as if the wind was suggesting an alternate course of action. It had never done that before.
Khyven glared at Tovos, but the Giant was ignoring him, focusing instead on Lorelle and Zaith.
But Zaith was looking directly at Khyven, almost as though he could see the blue wind also, as though he knew what Khyven was contemplating.
“Don’t,” Zaith said. “Remember what I told you, Khyven the Unkillable.”
“Now,” Tovos commanded.
“Khyven!” Lorelle shouted in anguish, as though his name was the only word she could say. Her face, directly behind Zaith’s, remained impassive.
Her single golden lock flared so bright it was almost white.
She slashed the short sword across Zaith’s throat.
Chapter Forty-six
Lorelle
As Tovos marched Lorelle before him from the Nox palace, she felt the five little threads of her soul burning inside her. They glowed gold and the golden lock of her hair glowed as well, as though the two were directly connected. It was like it had been in Usara, no torturous burning engulfing her entire body, but that little collection of threads yearned for Khyven. More than anyone else, she wished he was here now.
At first, she’d thought the burning was just a response to Tovos and his insidious control over her. But as her body marched up a gentle rise and crested the top, her heart stopped. Those five threads were burning for the same reason they had in Usara. Khyven was here.
She quailed as she looked down at the small glade.
No! No! No!
They were all here. Khyven stood with his sword at Zaith’s throat. Slayter leaned against a tree, stooped from exhaustion and searching his cylinder of spells.
At least Vohn wasn’t here. At least…
No!
Vohn lay face up, a black-feathered arrow sticking out of his chest. His eyes were open, but he didn’t move, didn’t blink. She couldn’t tell at this distance whether was dead or not. She couldn’t see if he was breathing.
She’d left them in Usara. She’d left them safe! The whole point of her leaving them behind and going with Zaith was so she wouldn’t have to lose any more of her friends. She was supposed to do this alone. They weren’t supposed to be here!
“Khyven!” she called in anguish, surprising herself. She hadn’t been able to say or do anything since Tovos had taken firm control of her. She hadn’t actually meant to say Khyven’s name. She’d meant to shout at them to leave, to run. To get away before the Giant saw them, but all that had emerged was “Khyven,” as though it was spoken straight from those five golden threads themselves.
Khyven glanced up, assessing her like he’d assess an enemy, as though she was distracting him from the kill.
But then he froze. His eyes widened.
“Lorelle?”
“Keep your wits about you, Khyven the Unkillable,” Zaith reminded him.
“What did you do to her?” Khyven demanded.
“Um, that’s a Giant,” Slayter murmured as Tovos rose to stand behind Lorelle.
Too late! Lorelle screamed in her mind. Too late!
Khyven, Zaith, and Tovos slung words back and forth, but Lorelle stared at Vohn lying dead in the grass. Little Vohn. Always the first with a gentle gesture or a kind word when it was most needed. Always the last to turn to violence. He hated weapons. What was he doing here in the middle of the Great Noktum? How could Khyven have brought him here?
No… she thought. I brought them here.
Did she really think they wouldn’t try to find her? A tear snaked down her cheek, the only evidence that her body was still her own.
Then she saw Vohn move. His chest rose just a little, an indrawn breath. He was alive! There was still time to save him!
She struggled against Tovos’s control again, putting every ounce of herself into breaking his hold…
But it was like trying to break a brick wall with a willow switch. Dizzy, she overheard Tovos speaking as though he was far away.
“I wouldn’t give you the honor of dying by my hand,” the Giant said to Zaith.
Suddenly, the grip within Lorelle tightened, seizing her, and her body leapt forward. She swung Tovos’s dagger—a short sword in her hand—at Zaith. He brought his sword up, but she batted it aside and moved behind him, laying the blade against his throat.
No!
“Lorelle. I’m sorry,” Zaith said.
Tovos forced her to grab Zaith’s hair and pull his head back. She knew what was coming next and she tried to stop herself. The command to kill him thrummed through her, but she fought it. She screamed inside her own mind so loudly she felt numb.
Her body twitched, but she held it.
“I’m so sorry,” Zaith whispered, and she saw everything he felt in that gaze. His failure to help his people. The anguish of losing his family. And love for her.
He looked past her, and his gaze fixed on Khyven.
“Don’t,” Zaith said. “Remember what I said, Khyven the Unkillable.”
“Now,” Tovos commanded. The shadows within her twisted. This time, Tovos’s will came down like an avalanche.
“Khyven!” she shouted, but Tovos smashed her resistance.
She pulled the dagger, felt Zaith’s throat give, saw the blood come. Zaith reacted like he couldn’t feel the deadly cut. His eyelids drooped.
Lorelle screamed silently, and it rent her sanity.
She tried to reach out, to stanch the flow, to try to hold Zaith together, but Tovos didn’t let her. Zaith slumped to the side and the light left his eyes.
Tovos turned her body around, taking her away from Zaith, taking her away from her friends.
Khyven and Slayter, bound by shadows, floated next to her, preceding the Giant. The mage’s eyes watched everything with interest as he floated over the ground, like he was taking mental notes. Khyven thrashed and struggled, but the shadow tentacles held him tight.
“Vohn!” Khyven strained to look over his shoulder at the prone Shadowvar. “You bastard! Take him with us! He needs help!”
As Tovos forced her to continue forward, she only had a brief, final glance at Vohn. His eyes were open, glazed, and he looked dead. She couldn’t tell if he was breathing anymore.
Tovos opened his cloak, a noktum cloak like Zaith’s, and it swirled around all of them. Lorelle’s body obligingly stepped into the Dark as she screamed denial. She felt the tingling wash of darkness flow through her and around her. It felt warm and close, comforting like the gentle rush of spring air.
The darkness parted and Lorelle found herself standing in a stone room with a dozen archways. Tovos stood next to her, with Khyven and Slayter hovering in the grip of shadow tentacles.
A dozen thick, squat men, about half the height of a Human, stood there as though they’d been waiting for Tovos to arrive. They had burly shoulders and faces that looked as if they’d been compressed, with square flat noses and squinty eyes. Their skin was the color of dark granite, not the effervescent purple of the Nox.
“Take them to the cells. Remove their weapons and lock them in,” Tovos commanded. “Take care with the Mavric iron blade. If I’m not mistaken, that’s Daelakos’s sword.”
The short men jumped into action. Three apiece pushed the floating, shadow-wrapped Khyven and Slayter through one of the archways and disappeared.
“Lorelle!” Khyven shouted. He growled. “I’m going to gut you, monster. I’m going to—”
His voice was cut off as the squat men turned the corner and slammed the door shut.
“You, on the other hand, may have a room,” Tovos said to Lorelle. “I have a special purpose for you. We must discuss your friend.” He walked through another of the archways and almost immediately up a flight of steps.
Lorelle’s body followed like a dog on a leash. She longed to look over her shoulder to where Khyven had gone, but she couldn’t.
Silently, Tovos led her up two flights of stairs, around to the left, and down a hallway. He finally stopped before a door that had an enormous handle, a lock, brackets set on either side, and a bar leaning against the wall. Tovos opened it. Inside was a bed, a rack for cloaks, a chest of drawers, and a mirror.
“This belonged to Zaith. He won’t be needing it any longer. I think living here will remind you of what happens if you fail me. Zaith had a rebellious heart. I hope you can avoid that. But if not, remember this, Lorelle: If you serve well, you will be rewarded. If you serve poorly…”
