Выбрать главу

Paul grabbed the wizard’s arm to wrench it away from Justinia, but Vlad lifted the little finger on his other hand and the king staggered backwards, doubled over in pain.

“Do not interrupt me,” Vlad said chidingly. “She is clearly important, a princess perhaps?” He enjoyed the suspense a moment longer, then said, “I think, my lady, that you are none other than Justinia, granddaughter of the governor of Xantium! The Thieves’ Guild is looking very hard for you.”

Paul, gray-faced in the candle light, caught his breath and wiped sweat from his forehead but showed no sign of trying anything else.

“And who informed thee I was here?” Justinia snapped. “Who hath betrayed me?”

Vlad widened his mouth in a tooth-filled smile. “Then you are the Lady Justinia! Thank you for confirming my guess. The Guild will pay me extremely well for discovering you.”

She pulled her lips together angrily, either at him or at herself for letting herself be taken by such an old trick. The mage Kaz-alrhun had entrusted Justinia to me, I thought bitterly, and I had brought her straight to someone who would deliver her to her worst enemies.

“When they could not find you in Xantium, my lady,” Vlad continued pleasantly, “they put out the information all over the East that they were looking for you. News even crossed the Central Sea and the mountains to reach my own little principality. A rumor or a guess that you might have fled to the western kingdoms was all they had to go on. I promised, of course, to help in the search for you during my own quest to the kingdom of Yurt. The Guild should pay me enough when I deliver you to them that I may be able to buy the services of Xantium’s greatest mages, thus making up at least in part for the loss of that which Daimbert so carelessly let disappear in the Outer Sea.”

“If thy plan is to hire Kaz-alrhun to assist thee in making the simulacrum of life from dead flesh and bones,” said Justinia haughtily, “thou shalt be most gravely disappointed. These are forbidden arts, and even the greatest of Xantium’s mages will not follow their dark ways.”

“He may change his mind when he sees the Guild’s money,” suggested Vlad.

“By now,” I interrupted, “Kaz-alrhun must have all the money he could possibly want and more.”

Vlad dismissed these concerns with a shrug. “Then my money shall buy whatever does still interest him.” He took a step backwards and motioned with his arm, like a genial host inviting in his guests. “In the meantime, I need to keep you safe-I am quite sure you will be worth more to the Guild alive than dead. And all these other people may have secrets of their own. If not, I shall still want to keep them secure until after Daimbert and I have finished our, shall we say, negotiations.” He blinked once. “Perhaps there is some personal feeling after all in what I would like to do to Daimbert. Some of that feeling might be assuaged by giving him the opportunity to watch his friends die slowly-but that is a matter for later. Come with me, and I shall take you to a dry chamber.”

The second he turned his back I threw together a spell of light that should have lit up the passage in a blinding flash. Light, the light that broke down the magic of blood and bone, was the only weapon I had against him.

But the words of the Hidden Language twisted and turned to dust before I could finish formulating them. “I must say I am disappointed, Daimbert,” said Vlad without turning around. “How could you have thought I would not be prepared for the spell with which you defeated me last time?”

We reluctantly followed Vlad, holding tight to each other, because there didn’t seem much else to do. The chattering of my teeth was due to much more than the chill of the night, and from the sound of Theodora’s breath she was again on the verge of hysterical tears.

Lit only by Vlad’s candle, the tunnel was nearly black, but at least I saw no giant cockroaches and heard no bones rattling. The demon must still be down in the bottom of the castle. The children had better not be down there with it.

Vlad opened a heavy oak door and motioned us within. “I am afraid I moved into this castle very recently,” he said apologetically, “and have not yet had a chance to install suitable furnishings.” The candle showed a cold and empty but dry room, its only window very far up and much smaller than a human could squeeze through.

As he motioned the others inside, lightning flashed for a second from the high window, followed by a sharp clap of thunder. Vlad flinched at the lightning. “Your weather is not as tractable as I had hoped,” he said. “I wanted clouds but not lightning. I am afraid we shall have to postpone our conversation at least briefly, Daimbert, until I have restored suitable conditions. You will be so good as to wait for me, I am sure.”

He handed me the candle and slammed the door, and I heard the bolt going across. His feet tapped away down the corridor.

All of us let out shuddering breaths. I counted to twenty to give Vlad time to get away, then started on a lifting spell to slide the bolt back again. But it was no use; he had put a magic lock on it.

“Shall we try kicking the door down?” suggested Paul, his jaw set.

“A magic lock strengthens the door itself as well as the locking mechanism,” I said, shaking my head and thinking fast. “But we might be able to set it on fire-”

I immediately began working on fire spells, and Theodora, who had been trembling and clinging to Gwennie, took a deep breath and started on her own magic. But our spells were no more effective on the door than they had been on our torches. Vlad must have wanted to be sure there were no sources of light in his castle other than the small candles he lit himself.

We were safe and even dry for the moment, safe from Vlad, safe from the demon. But the safety only lasted until Vlad returned. And I still had no idea how, even if we escaped alive, I was going to find Antonia.

“How about the window?” said Paul, low and urgent. There was another lightning flash and more thunder. Good, I mentally said to the weather. Keep Vlad occupied as long as possible.

“I could transform us all into birds so we could fly out,” I suggested half-heartedly. Keep thinking, I told myself. Don’t dwell on the demon downstairs. Don’t think about how evil Vlad is. Think of a plan. “But I couldn’t shape the words of the Hidden Language as a bird, so we’d all have to stay transformed unless another wizard realized who we really were and broke the spell. Or I could transform the rest of you and stay behind, and then when you were all safely through the window break the spell from in here …”

“Leaving us sitting on the roof in the storm?” asked Paul.

“No,” I agreed, “we’d all still be trapped. Maybe all becoming birds is still the best plan. We’ll get away from here and wait somewhere along the road for Elerius-he’s bound to find this castle eventually,” I heard myself babbling. “And when he comes maybe we can spell out a message in birdseed or something …”

“This is the most stupid plan I have ever had assail my ears,” said Justinia, her voice ragged.

Theodora took my arm. “Vlad has not harmed us yet in spite of his threats, and we know we must be close to the children.” At least she didn’t say my plan was stupid.

We huddled together in a corner, my arms around Theodora, Paul again with an arm each around Gwennie and Justinia. A corner of my mind was interested to note how social conventions did not stand up against true danger; this was not a king embracing a foreign princess and his own cook’s daughter, but three people trying to deny their fear by clinging together desperately. Rain pounded above our heads, and the candle flickered as the wind blew in. For a minute the storm seemed to be weakening, but then three lightning flashes in a row cast glaring blue light into the room. Vlad should be occupied for a while yet.