He crouched beside Pet and said, “Move.”
Pet moved his hands away from Jandra’s throat. Vendevorex’s claws touched her, exploring the wound. She arched her back in agony as his nails probed beneath her skin.
“Don’t struggle,” he said. “I’m going to knit your trachea closed. The wound didn’t reach the jugular. In five minutes this will only be a bad memory.”
Jandra nodded. For once she appreciated Vendevorex’s cool, emotionless approach. He was looking at her wound as mere matter to be rearranged. If he was frightened or worried by the task, it didn’t show in his impassive expression.
He worked in silence for several long moments. The distant sound of battle grew louder but Vendevorex’s eyes never strayed from the task. Pet continued to cradle Jandra’s head in his lap and didn’t let go of her hand. Her eyes met his. She saw all the emotion that was missing from Ven’s face… The worry, yes, but also the hope.
Jandra realized, suddenly, that her breathing was easier. There was no blood in her mouth anymore. She swallowed and found no pain.
“Perhaps now you can see the logic of my position,” Vendevorex said, wiping the remaining blood away from her throat. It felt as if his fingers were stroking smooth, unbroken skin. “Chakthalla is dead. Staying here provides the possibility of defeat without the slimmest hope of victory. Will you come with me now?”
“Okay,” she whispered. Her throat tingled, the way an arm that has been laid on too long will tingle when the pressure is released.
“Good,” said Vendevorex.
“Great,” said Pet, breaking into a smile. “Let’s get going. I just have one small thing I need to do.”
Pet helped Jandra to her feet before going to Chakthalla’s body and kneeling before it. Pet lowered his head as he took her limp claws. Jandra was moved by his sorrow until she saw him pull the golden rings from Chakthalla’s talons and then rudely let her limbs drop back to the floor.
He stuffed the rings into his pocket as he stood. “I’m ready,” he said without a trace of remorse in his voice.
Jandra turned to Vendevorex. “This is the wrong place and the wrong time to say this,” she said.
“Then don’t say it,” said Vendevorex.
“I have to,” she said. “I don’t know what you feel for me. I don’t know if you think of me as your daughter, your apprentice, your slave, or your pet. It doesn’t matter. I love you, Ven. You’re like a father to me.”
“How touching,” a deep voice said from the doorway.
Jandra turned to see a huge spear flashing through the air as fast and straight as a ray of light. It dug into Vendevorex’s side, sending him to his knees. Vendevorex gave a pained cry as he grabbed the spear with both hands, struggling with its weight.
In the doorway stood Zanzeroth the hunter and his slave Gadreel, both of whom Jandra recognized from Albekizan’s court.
“Gadreel, take care of the humans,” Zanzeroth said, drawing a long blade from a leather sheath strapped to his waist. “The wizard’s mine.”
Vendevorex summoned a shield of invisibility to swirl around him-not that it mattered while the spear jutted from his side. The long shaft lay beyond the edge of his shield, betraying his position. The pain made it impossible to concentrate but he couldn’t give up now. He’d just saved Jandra’s life. If he didn’t pull his wits together, that would all be a waste. She’d die just as surely as he would.
He squeezed the shaft with his claws, twisting it slightly, purposefully increasing the pain, to focus the agony from a cloud that fogged his mind into a tight beam that pierced his center. His mind clear, he set to work, reaching into the very forces that bound the wood together, loosening them. The spear shaft glowed brightly, then vanished with a sizzle in a spray of bubbling light.
Vendevorex rolled forward as Zanzeroth landed where he’d been when the shaft hit. Zanzeroth carried a long, curved knife in one claw and a whip in the other. Vendevorex could tell by the way the hunter held his head that his circle of invisibility was working perfectly. Zanzeroth couldn’t see him.
But a pool of blood marked the spot where Vendevorex had been, and a line of red drops marked the path he’d fled. Zanzeroth whirled his whip in a half circle behind his head then flicked it. The leather raced around Vendevorex’s neck before he even knew what had happened. With a savage yank Zanzeroth jerked Vendevorex forward, out of his field of invisibility. Vendevorex fell to the marble before Zanzeroth’s feet. Zanzeroth loomed above him, nearly twice his size, and Vendevorex could only flail helplessly as the hunter placed his clawed foot onto the back of his neck, pinning him.
“This need not be painful, wizard,” Zanzeroth said. “Albekizan wants your head. You can keep everything else.”
Jandra scurried backward. She grabbed the assassin’s sword from Chakthalla’s back with a wet slurp as Gadreel flew toward her. Gadreel was a sky-dragon like Vendevorex, slightly taller than a man with a wingspan twice his height. She was outmatched physically, but if she could hold out for even a minute to get out of his line of sight and turn invisible, she stood a chance.
She ducked and Gadreel’s claws raced by inches above her. She heard him flap his wings up to land before he hit the back wall of the chamber. She threw a handful of dust into the air, turning invisible just as he spun around to attack again. Now she could strike him by surprise. With luck she’d kill him before he ever knew what hit him. The sword was heavier than she had guessed, however, and her hands were drenched with slick sweat and her own blood, making it hard to hold. Her breath came in loud, ragged gasps that she feared would betray her position. Her throat was okay now, but it felt as if half her ribs were broken from the assassin’s tackle.
Gadreel drew his own sword and inched forward, slicing the air before him savagely. Jandra crept to the side to strike at his back as he passed.
To the surprise of both of them, Pet let loose with a bloodcurdling cry and charged Gadreel while carrying Chakthalla’s huge spear. Jandra was impressed; not many humans could wield such a huge weapon. Alas, due to the weight of the spear, Pet didn’t wield it well. His charge was slow and clumsy. Gadreel turned away from Jandra to face the attack.
Vendevorex growled, his rage rising with the humiliation of being under his former ally’s talon. He raised his fore-talon to grasp Zanzeroth’s ankle. Flames burst from around his claws.
Zanzeroth cursed and jumped backward, freeing Vendevorex. The old dragon beat at the flaming scales on his ankle, extinguishing them.
“You dare?” Vendevorex snarled, rising to full height, ignoring the pain that pierced him. “You face the Master of the Invisible! I control matter itself!” He spread his wings and crafted the simple illusion that made him double in size. “Have you forgotten who you are dealing with?” he shouted. “I am Vendevorex!”
“I am unimpressed,” said Zanzeroth. With a flick and a flash, his long silver knife sliced through the air.
Vendevorex choked as the knife sank squarely into his shoulder, paralyzing his right wing. He pulled the knife free with his left claw and staggered backward. Before he could blink Zanzeroth stood before him, raking his claws savagely across Vendevorex’s eyes. The old dragon then twirled, slamming Vendevorex’s belly with his heavy tail. Vendevorex began to fall, all strength gone, when Zanzeroth spun back around and grabbed him by the throat. The old sun-dragon lifted Vendevorex as if he were weightless, holding him in the air as steady as a gallows.
“You scare the king,” Zanzeroth said, taking the knife Vendevorex still held in his feeble grasp. “But I’ve studied you for years. You’re one-tenth magic and nine-tenths bluff. You need time to think to do your tricks. Right now I’m guessing all you’ll be thinking about is this!”