“What powers?” I said.
“Look outside. They’re the giant flames.”
“What are they?”
He shook his head. “I dare not say more.”
I had no time to dicker. He was tough minded. He was evil. A woman lay on the altar, ready for him to sacrifice. How many other women had he slain with his assorted knives? If I tied and gagged him, he likely had magical abilities to free himself. He had left me no choice. I was the Darkling. To show mercy now in this desperate place was folly.
I killed him, wiped my deathblade on his yellow robe and laid him on the mosaic. I would have to question an apprentice. The sight of the dead sorcerer might help loosen his tongue. I strode for the door.
“I’ll tell you want you want to know,” the nude woman on the altar said.
I whirled around. In my haste, I’d forgotten about her.
“The keys are on the knife table,” she said. “They’re under the yellow cloth.”
I found them, freed her and ripped his robe from him. She wrapped herself with it. She was young and beautiful, blond-haired, with startling green eyes.
“I’ve listened to them talk,” she said, as she knotted the cord around her slim waist. “They’re worried because things aren’t going right.”
“Go on,” I said.
“You won’t kill me, will you?”
“No.”
“On your word?” she asked.
“On my word of honor, my lady.”
“There’s no honor here,” she said bitterly.
“I’m a prince.”
She laughed. It was a hard thing, tinged with fear. “Can you spirit me out of here?”
“Not at the moment,” I said.
“Will you come back for me once you’re done?”
“If you help me,” I said. “If it’s possible.”
She nodded. “That’s better than anyone else is offering.”
“You must hurry.”
“Did you kill someone getting in?”
That told me she had been listening. It also made me wary. Who was she? I could have asked her a dozen questions and still know nothing about Erasmo and his plan. Time was precious.
“I killed the chief lycanthrope and I killed this sorcerer.”
“His name was Pandolfo Petrucci,” she said.
“I don’t care what is name is. Tell me what’s going on with the spell.”
She brushed back her golden hair. For a woman just freed from an altar, she had amazing poise.
“The flames in the sky are powers, lords of another realm,” she said. “They’re supplying magical might.”
“Keep talking,” I said.
“The Grand Conjuration has been days in the making. It’s a difficult spell. I’ve been chained to this altar three different times. This makes the fourth. The Lord of Night is injured, as you said. He slowly regains strength. Everyone is readied, and then he has a relapse. When the signal finally comes, I’m to be butchered along with many others. Then the Lord of Night will summon a being powerful enough to finish the Grand Conjuration.”
“You mean blow the Trumpet of Blood.”
She shrugged. “I haven’t heard about that.”
“They didn’t talk about it?”
“Not near me.”
“Why does he need these flame powers?” I asked.
“Do you think I’m a witch?”
I grabbed her wrist and dragged her to a window. It faced the massive tower.
“How hard is it to get into there?” I asked.
She brushed back her golden hair. “I would say it’s impossible.”
“How do you know?”
She tugged the robes more tightly around herself. “It’s a hard world out there. I believed an apprentice’s promises. They might have come true. Then the Lord of Night returned hurt. He tried to hide it, but we soon knew. Well, the sorcerers and apprentices knew. That’s when the plan changed and they needed-”
She turned to me. “Do you think I’m a virgin?” she asked.
I studied the massive tower, although I avoided looking at the giant flames, the so-called powers.
“I always thought sorcerers only sacrificed virgins,” she said. “I thought I was safe. Then my lover decided here was his chance to gain influence. They all vied with each other to offer their paramours to their sorcerer. They’re all dogs. He said he loved me. Then he told me I should understand. He said he was sorry. Can you believe that?”
“Go bar the door,” I said.
She frowned. Then she got the idea and hurried across the room, with her bare feet slapping tiles.
“Wait,” I said. “I left something in the corridor.”
I retrieved my bag, and I helped her push several chests against the door.
“This isn’t going to do us much good once the spell is finished,” she said.
I strode to the window. If only the central tower stood closer. If only I had wings, I could fly into Erasmo’s window. I struck the windowsill with my fist.
“Do you have a plan?” she asked.
“Who guards that tower?”
“You won’t break into it like you did here.”
“How do you know that?”
She laughed grimly. “Why do you care how I know?” she asked.
I studied the central tower. I stared at the bright window high up there. The sorcerer here had feared seeing me. He had wondered how Erasmo could be away from his central tower, what had anchored the powers while the Lord of Night wandered. That meant Erasmo had to be up there. His being there somehow chained the powers into place.
“You’re here to kill him,” she said. “You said you cut him once. Why do you look just like him?”
In the streets below, I saw no evidence of alarm. There were no rushing bands, no sounding gong. In fact, I didn’t see anyone.
“You’ll never kill him,” she said.
Should I run down the tower stairs? The wisest course would be to chain this woman back onto the altar.
“If the spell is interrupted,” she said, “horrible things will happen. That’s what has the apprentices so worried.”
“Should I sacrifice you then?” I asked. “Should I finish the spell?”
She brushed back her golden hair. “Take me with you. We must flee this place.”
I shook my head.
“I’m nobility just like you.” She rubbed my arm and pressed herself against me. “You’ll never regret saving me. I promise to make your life a living ecstasy. I’m very good at what I do.”
That building over there, it was near the central tower. I saw a window, too, one lower down. I had to decide now what I was going to do. I had to get into the central tower fast. If I dashed down these stairs…the apprentices were ambitious want-to-be-sorcerers. Several of them would either peer out their doors or have other means of watching what went on. Word of my presence-what they thought was Erasmo’s presence here-had likely spread to everyone in the tower. I needed those wings more than ever.
“Why do feel so cold?” she asked.
I wrenched my arm loose and tore into my bag. In seconds, I wore the Darkling belt and cut my silk line in half. I assembled my crossbow, loaded a bolt and shot it into this brick windowsill. Then I attached the line to the bolt.
“You can’t climb down that,” she said.
I broke apart my crossbow.
“Where did you buy that?” she asked. “I’ve never seen one you hook together.”
I tied the other end of the line to the spindle on my belt. Then I cranked the handle fast and wound up the silk.
“That’s ingenious,” she said. “But can it hold your weight?”
I attached the bag to my belt and leaped onto the windowsill.
“Wait!” she cried. “Take me with you.”
I stared into her green eyes. Terror filled them. She was pale and trembled. I realized she had chattered endlessly because of her fear.
I knew I should simply jump out. Then I wondered if she might race to the table and grab a knife. Maybe enraged that I’d left her, she would cut the line. I could kill her-the fastest course. Or I could chain her back onto the altar.
“Please.” She held out her hands. “I can help you.”
“How?”
“I can show you things. Help you avoid making a mistake. Please, don’t leave me here. They’ll kill me. Torture me to find out what happened.”