Realm of Mirrors (The DeathSpeaker Codex Book 3) Page 17
Taeral abruptly turned back into himself. “Levoran gave you the stone?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I don’t know how he found me or knew who I was, when I didn’t even know…but that was him.”
Taeral frowned slightly. “Daoin trusted him above all. I suppose if he were to leave it with someone, it would be Levoran. Though I’m not certain why—Moirehna always wanted the stone. It would’ve been easier if he’d brought it to the human realm in the first place.” He turned to Uriskel. “Can you tell if it’s him?”
“Of course not. I can see no better than you from here,” Uriskel said. “But I’ll find out.”
With that, he jumped off the ground—and kept going up.
“Holy shit,” Sadie said. “I guess he really can fly.”
Taeral was too busy staring in shock to comment.
I looked at the gate again, and the lone figure in front of it. Something just didn’t seem right. Why would there be only one guard? I didn’t see anything at all moving between here and the palace. And if we could tell that was a person from this distance, shouldn’t the guard be able to see there were people in the field? Especially considering the way we came in—through a big, glowing rip in the air.
I had a very bad feeling about this.
“Taeral,” I said. “He should’ve seen the portal.”
He tore his gaze from the sky and blinked at me. “What?”
“The guard. We came here in a big flash of light, remember?” I said. “And the guard didn’t do anything. He’s still just standing there.”
“That is…unusual,” he said as concern filtered into his face. “Perhaps we should—”
Sadie elbowed him and nodded up. “He’s coming back.”
Uriskel floated overhead and landed easily a few feet back from us. But there was nothing easy in his expression. “I’ve seen the guard,” he said in rough, reluctant tones.
“Is it him? Levoran?” Taeral said.
“Aye, it is. But…” He shuddered visibly. “He’s dead.”
Jesus Christ. Well, that explained why he didn’t move—but it was the most horrifying explanation I could imagine.
“No.” Taeral backed up a step, shaking his head. “No, he cannot be. He is an Unseelie Guard,” he said. “The Queen has never ordered one of her Guard killed, no matter what they’ve done.”
“Well, she has now,” Uriskel nearly shouted. “He’s dead. She’s had his corpse tied to the gate, and hung a blasted sign on him. He is—”
“No, he is not!” Lip curled in a snarl, Taeral half-turned and sprinted for the gate.
“Taeral!” Uriskel glared at his retreating back, then relaxed on a sigh and lowered his head briefly. “We’d better go after him, then,” he said. “I’d not seen anyone else around out there…but that in itself is suspect.”
I had to agree with that.
We didn’t run as fast as Taeral, but we did pick up the pace. Just as we cleared the edge of the tall grass, Taeral wavered and fell to his knees beside the motionless figure. Sadie immediately broke into a run that faltered when she got close. But she went down in front of him, put her arms around him. And he embraced her back, his face contorted with grief and turned away from the gate.
The closer I got, the slower I moved. I could see Levoran clearly now—and I didn’t want to.
There was blood everywhere. Coarse rope tied his wrists and ankles, his middle and his neck to the bars of the gate, like some gruesome scarecrow. His face was frozen in eternal agony. And a wooden plank had been nailed to the center of his chest. Wisps of smoke drifted from where the nails entered his body—they were cold iron, and he hadn’t been dead long.
The runes burned into the plank read traitor.
“I may as well have killed him myself.” Taeral struggled to his feet, with Sadie still supporting him. “If he hadn’t helped me escape…”
“Then you would have died,” Uriskel said firmly. “Along with your brother, your woman, and possibly your father.”
No one corrected the ‘your woman’ part.
“He’s sacrificed his life for his loyalty,” Uriskel went on. “And it is a noble death. Now, only one question remains—will you honor his sacrifice and finish what you’ve come here to do, or wallow in your grief until you’re captured and your friend has died in vain?”
Sadie looked like she wanted to punch him. But Taeral’s features hardened, and he drew himself stiff. “I will end her,” he growled.
“Better. Much better,” Uriskel said. “And I truly hate to point this out, but…Levoran may still be able to help us.” He looked at me. “Isn’t that right, DeathSpeaker?”
Damn. Unfortunately, it was.
CHAPTER 34
For the first time, talking to the dead felt like a violation. Or maybe blasphemy.
It was partly because I knew what really happened when I did it now. I didn’t want to drag this guy’s soul out of wherever he was and shove him back into the land of the living to ask him a bunch of questions. He should be allowed to rest in peace.
But it had to be done. And at least I wouldn’t have to hurt him. If he was a friend, he wouldn’t struggle with trying to lie or resist answering.
“Okay.” I let out an unsteady breath. “Taeral, this is gonna be…different, so try not to freak out,” I said. “I learned a new way to do this.”
He looked at me warily. “How different?”
“Extremely.”
The first thing I did was to pry the sign carefully out of him. I couldn’t stand it being there, still burning him, even if I wouldn’t be able to see it with the glamour. Uriskel gave a nod of approval as I stepped back and threw the damned thing as far as I could.
I hardly had to think about reaching out, or pulling his soul in. It did get easier with practice. I only wished I didn’t have to practice like this.
There was a sharp pain in my head, and a brief struggle. More surprise than resistance. I focused on the body, and almost instantly, the pressure left my head.
It appeared that the ropes and the blood vanished, and the corpse opened his eyes.
“Gods’ blood,” Taeral gasped. “Did you…bring him back?”
“It’s a glamour,” I said. “They were in my head before, when I talked to the dead. Nyantha taught me how to project them out.”
“Taeral. You’ve survived.” The slightly transparent Levoran gave a confused smile. “And I thought I had not. How am I here?”
“He speaks?” Taeral blurted.
“Apparently I do.” Levoran looked at me. “Ah, so that’s how. You are the DeathSpeaker. And the young son of Lord Daoin. I remember you.”
“I remember you, too,” I said. “I’m so sorry you’re…dead.”
The apparition laughed. “Now there’s a phrase I’d never thought to hear spoken to me. One doesn’t usually hear a thing, being dead.”
“Levoran. We will avenge your death,” Taeral said. “We’re here to retrieve my father, and destroy Moirehna.”
“Is that your plan.” His ghostly head turned to look at Sadie and Uriskel. “A mistress of the moon, and the dark prince. Well. You’ve certainly a strong force…but I fear it may not be enough.”
Uriskel frowned deeply. “I don’t recall knowing you,” he said. “How is it you know me?”
“I’ve always had a gift for sensing the core of someone. It’s how I knew you, young DeathSpeaker, when you’d not known yourself.” His smile grew wistful. “And how I knew you’d protect the stone. But now, you must return it to Lord Daoin—and do not let Moirehna know you have it.”
I wasn’t sure why, but I definitely wouldn’t argue. I tucked the pendant inside my shirt. “Glad to, as long as we can get to him,” I said. “Speaking of that. Do you have any idea how we can get into the palace?”
Levoran’s brow furrowed. “You’ve no need to compel me, DeathSpeaker. I’ll answer freely.”
“I didn’t…” Oh, right. I’d asked him a question. “Sorry about that. I thi
nk it’s just the way it works when I ask something. And, um—how did you not answer?”
“Unfortunately, it’s because I’ve no answer for you. There is no way,” he said. “None can enter the palace without the escort of a Guard. The spell is unbreakable.” He shook his head sadly. “If only I’d not died. I’d give my life all over again to serve the House of Ciar’ Ansghar.”
So we were totally screwed. Great.
“We fight, then,” Uriskel said. “If we can force but one guard to yield—”
“None will yield. Their loyalty is complete.” Levoran’s eyes burned red for an instant. “They did not hesitate when she ordered them to execute me. My brothers,” he sneered. “What I’d not give for a chance at retribution.” He turned his gaze to me. “DeathSpeaker. Can you not return my soul to my body, as Kelwyyn could?”
The idea horrified me. Raising souls was one thing, but animating corpses? Desecration wasn’t a strong enough word for that.
But he really wanted to fight. I could feel it burning his soul from the inside. And somehow I knew if he didn’t get the chance, he’d spend the rest of his death feeling it. He’d never be at peace.
If there was any way I could help him, I had to. And if Kelwyyn had done it…maybe I could, too.
“I’m not sure,” I finally said. “But I’ll try.”
“Gideon, are you mad?” Taeral hissed. “Why would you even attempt such a thing?”
“Because he wants to fight. And he deserves to.”
Sadie nodded slowly. “Let him try. If it was me, I’d want him to.”
“Aye. His will is strong, even in death,” Uriskel said. “He’ll not rest easy.”
“Now that you’ve all spoken my mind for me.” Levoran crooked a smile. “For centuries I’ve remained by your father’s side, young master Taeral. And I’ll not desert him now, in his greatest hour of need. Even if I am dead.”
Taeral closed his eyes. “Very well. I understand.”
“Okay,” I said. “I’ve got this.”
I hoped.
I could feel the invisible string connected me to Levoran’s soul. Holding it was almost effortless, because he wasn’t struggling to get away. I remembered Nyantha said that the dead could choose to be in the world of the living, like the banshees—and that if I let go of a soul, they’d either stay here, or return to the land of the dead.
But if I just released him, he’d be a soul floating around. I had to get him inside his body.
So maybe I could project him there.
I moved toward him. Direct contact always made things easier, and I didn’t have time to practice this one. “I think I can push your soul into your head, and then let go,” I said. “But I’m not sure if it’ll stay there.”
Levoran nodded gravely. “Perhaps a binding spell,” he said. “I’ve the will to keep it there, once it’s done.”
“It will not work,” Taeral said. “The dead cannot be spelled.”
“Except by the DeathSpeaker. He’s done it once already, with the Redcap,” Uriskel told him.
Taeral’s brow lifted. “Is there anything you cannot do, brother?”
“Yeah. I can’t cook, and I’m a lousy singer.” I smirked and turned back to Levoran. “Well, here goes.”
I had to reach up to lay a hand on his head. It was cold and stiff, like a hundred other corpses I’d touched. Shifting the glamour didn’t seem like the best way to do this, so I figured I’d re-project him.
As I pulled the soul back into myself, the glamour vanished—and I was looking straight into the anguished features of the bloody corpse.
“Don’t let that trouble you, Gideon,” Levoran said in my head. “It was more fury than pain. The treacherous bastards.”
I smiled in spite of the stabbing pain of his words. “I bet it was.”
It was a lot harder forcing the soul through me, instead of out. The strain was physical and magical—I was sweating, trembling, and I could feel my spark drain. But I managed to guide it to the point of contact. There I pushed harder against what felt like solid marble, until I finally felt something pass out of me. So I let go of the remaining string.
The body jerked and thrummed beneath my hand.
A binding spell. The word came to me right away. “Ceàngahlteh,” I gasped.
And the corpse’s actual eyes opened.
I staggered back and doubled over, trying to catch my breath. Damn, that took a lot out of me. I knew I’d never be able to do it in the human realm—there wasn’t enough magic there. I could barely believe I’d done it here.
“Gideon!” Sadie rushed over and put an arm around my waist. “Are you okay? You’re not bleeding are you?”
“No. I’m good. Just…tired.” I shivered and drew myself straight.
Taeral and Uriskel were both staring at Levoran in open-mouthed shock.
Levoran shifted slightly. I could almost hear him creaking. “Perhaps someone could cut me down from here?” he said, in a voice like the wind rustling through dried leaves.
“Yes! Of course.” Taeral shook himself and rushed over, reaching for his belt. Then he frowned. “Damn, I’d forgotten. The Guard took my dagger.”
I handed him mine. “I think you should probably hurry,” I said.
He nodded and started sawing through the ropes at his throat. “You’re badly injured, Levoran,” he said in choked tones. “Should we…heal you?”
“I’d not try that. Besides, I can’t feel a thing. Being dead seems to have its advantages.” Levoran’s mouth lifted, a stiff grimace that was probably supposed to be a smile. “Thank you for this, young DeathSpeaker,” he said. “I’ll not be able to repay you.”
“You already have,” I said.
Taeral cut the last of the ropes, tossed the dagger back to me, and caught Levoran as he pitched forward. After a minute, the dead man gestured him away and stood on his own. “All seems to be in order. Well, save that I’m dead,” he said. “Now, we’ve a palace to storm.”
“I’m afraid I’ll not let that happen, Brother Levoran.”
The cold voice came from the other side of the gate. It belonged to the Guard who’d stabbed me back at the Castle, the one with dark brown braids, golden eyes, and thorns tattooed on his face. He still wore armor that seemed to be made out of light, and now he had two swords hanging from his belt, in addition to the spelled dagger.
And he hadn’t come alone.
CHAPTER 35
Levoran whirled to face the Guard. “Aonghas,” he spat in his dead-leaves voice. “I’ve a score to settle with you, Captain.”
Oh, good. This guy was Daoin’s replacement.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, Levoran, but haven’t I killed you once?” His grin was just as cold as his voice, but the half-dozen other Guards behind him weren’t smiling at all. “I’ll gladly do it again,” he said. “And it seems I’ve you to thank for this opportunity… DeathSpeaker.” He turned his gold gaze to me. “Amaedahn, naech crohgaa.”
This time I understood the words. Foolish, but brave.
“Yeah, that’s me,” I said. “How about you surrender, so we don’t have to kill you?”
Aonghas laughed. “Oh, I like you. Such spirit,” he said. “Barely on his feet, and telling me to surrender. It’s a shame I’ll have to turn you over to her Majesty.” He moved forward and leaned an arm casually against the gate. “I’ll make you a deal, then, since she only wants you. Turn yourself in, and we’ll let your friends live. All but Levoran.” He sent a heated glare at the walking corpse. “Him, I’ll have to teach a lesson in staying dead when I kill him.”
“That’s quite a deal,” I said. “Let me think about it. No.”
“Suit yourself. One way or another, you’ll be going to the Queen.”
I flashed a cold smile of my own. “Well, you’re right about that.”
“So it’s to be a battle. This pleases me.” Aonghas stepped back and drew one of his swords. “Oscaihl’te.”
The gate swung open.
This was going to happen fast.
“That’s my weapon, you pompous snake,” Levoran snarled. “Tuariis’caen.”
The sword wrenched itself from Aonghas’ hand and flew into Levoran’s.
I decided now was a good time to attack.
I lunged at the Unseelie captain, wrapping him in a bearhug so he couldn’t draw another weapon. From the corners of my eyes, I saw a rush of motion—Uriskel taking to the air, full-wolf Sadie springing with bared fangs, Taeral throwing a gesture that seemed to spit out a wave of magic. Then we hit the ground, and the impact slammed through me.
I lifted the dagger and swung for his throat, but my awkward aim was off. The blade glanced off the light-armor with a resounding clang.
Aonghas grinned. “Leíchtraana.”
An electric shock blasted through me and sent me flying.
I came down hard and tumbled once. By the time I struggled to my feet, Levoran was charging Aonghas, sword raised. The captain pulled the other sword and managed to meet his blow.
Sadie had one of the guards down, her teeth snapping for his throat. Taeral had wrestled a dagger from another and fought him hand-to-hand. One guard lay motionless on the ground, his body smoldering—from Uriskel’s card spell, I guessed.
And one was headed straight for me, wielding a long, broad two-handed sword.
My dagger wasn’t going to cut it against that.
He swung, and I managed to duck under the blow. Momentum carried him past me. I held out a hand and shouted, “Dei’ahmael!”
His sword clattered to the ground. He snarled and spat the word back at me, and the dagger dropped.
“Tuariis’caen,” we both said at the same time. The weapons returned.
Okay, so weapon spells were out.
He rushed me again, the massive sword upraised. I gestured and said, “À dionadth.” This time I felt something in me strain as I cast the spell—my spark was draining. And the moon, strong as it was, couldn’t charge it back fast enough.