But it was not the Changeling Lord who evoked her venom, for, even as the lord turned to see Roel hurtling forward, the woman raised a black-nailed hand, and with a gesture she spat a word.
And Roel was frozen in his tracks, and try as he might, he could not move.
Sneering in triumph, the woman started forward, but the lines on the floor seemed to stop her. She looked down at them and with a negligent wave, as if flicking away a fly, she stepped out from the pentagon, out from the circle, and, with but barely a glance at the Changeling Lord, she strode past him and toward her impaled victim: Roel.
45
Reckonings
A s the woman stopped before Roel and looked him up and down and smiled wickedly, “I did not expect you, Nefasi,” said the Changeling Lord.
“Then why did you summon me, Morgrif?”
“I did not summon you by name, Nefasi, but rather I summoned this one’s deadly enemy, for he is a most leathal foe.”
Nefasi laughed. “Indeed, I am his deadly enemy, for he set back my revenge against Lord Valeray.” At the name Valeray, the Changeling Lord’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “He, who is most responsible for the defeat of Lord Orbane?”
“Oui, Morgrif, the very same. And this fool twice kept me from seizing one of Valeray’s get: Celeste.” Nefasi turned to Roel and put a hand behind her ear in a pretense of listening. “What’s that you ask? How did you interfere? Pah! You fool, ’twas I who sent the brigands to capture Princess Celeste, Valeray’s youngest spawn. And ’twas I who sent my minions to attack at the twilight bound. And it was you who interfered both times, for I watched as you slew brigands and again as you slew Redcaps and Bogles and Trolls and fled with the princess.”
“You watched?” asked Morgrif.
The woman ground her teeth. “I looked through the eyes of my familiar and called out for revenge, ere some fool put a crossbow quarrel through my bird, and oh, how that pained me, and for that this man shall also pay. . and dearly.”
Nefasi turned to the Changeling Lord and said, “You will be well rewarded for this, Morgrif. And when Orbane is set free, you will sit near the throne.”
“I think I have another gift for you, Nefasi,” said the Changeling Lord. “This knight has a woman with him.”
“A woman?”
“Oui. Elegant and slender and of pale yellow hair and green eyes.”
Nefasi crowed. “Ah, even sweeter than I thought.
Surely it is Celeste. She has not escaped my revenge after all.”
Sweat ran in rivulets down Roel’s face as he strained to move, yet he could not. And Nefasi laughed to see him struggle, and, preening in her power, she strutted back and forth before him, her long black gown flowing behind. “Why, you ask, do I wish to harm your love, the princess? Idiot, I am one of four sisters, two of whom are now slain: Rhensibe, killed by Borel; and Iniqui, murdered by Liaze. Those two assassins are siblings of your Princess Celeste, all of them foul get of thief Valeray and his slut Saissa. And I and my sister Hradian plan to kill them all; we will have our revenge, we two who remain Lord Orbane’s acolytes.”
Hatred filled her eyes, and spittle flecked at the corner of her mouth, so rabid was her desire for vengeance.
“There will come a day when we set him free, but you will not be around to witness it, nor will your whore Celeste.” Nefasi raised her hand, her black talons gleaming ebon in the candlelight, and she reached for Roel’s exposed throat.
“Whore, am I?” came a call from the enshadowed doorway.
Nefasi turned to see Celeste standing in the opening, her bow in hand, an arrow nocked. Behind her stood someone else in the darkness.
The witch hissed, but then she laughed. “Have you come to save your love, Celeste? This is even better than I expected.”
Celeste drew her bow to the full and aimed.
Again Nefasi laughed, and she raised her right hand toward Celeste, her index and little fingers hooked like horns and pointing at the arrow, and her middle fingers pointed down and her thumb pointed leftward. “You fool! Set aside your pinprick, for neither you nor it can harm me.”
“Oh, no?” said Celeste, and she loosed the shaft to hurtle through the air toward the witch.
“Avert!” cried Nefasi, and then her eyes widened in fear, and she shrieked as the arrow sped true and pierced her through the heart. Momentarily she looked down at the gray shaft, and then at Celeste.
“Not even the gods could turn that one aside,” said Celeste coldly.
And Nefasi fell to the floor, dead before striking the stone.
Suddenly Roel could move, and he stepped toward the Changeling Lord.
But Morgrif leapt into the circle and spoke an arcane word. And he laughed and looked at Celeste even as Roel approached.
As the princess nocked another arrow, the Changeling Lord called out, “Though somehow you have managed to defeat your deadly enemy, I have now called out to my minions to come to my aid, and by their very numbers, they will o’erwhelm you both.” Celeste aimed and loosed her shaft, the arrow to hiss through the air, only to shatter as if against an invisible barrier at the perimeter of the circle.
Once more the Changeling Lord laughed and called out to Celeste, “I am in a ring of protection, a place where your weapons of bronze cannot harm me.” His gaze then fell upon Roel, and Morgrif stepped to the very brim of the design toward the knight and added,
“Not even that silver-chased bronze sword of yours, fool.”
Roel, now reaching the circle’s edge himself, gritted and said, “Coeur d’Acier is no weapon of bronze.” And with a backhanded sweep, he took off the Changeling Lord’s head.
46
Flight
Lightning flared and thunder roared throughout the chamber as the Lord of the Changelings collapsed and became a great pool of dark slime, which then degenerated into viscous liquid. A gagging stench rose up, and Roel backed away and turned to find Celeste right behind. He took her in his arms and kissed her, and then said, “Avelaine, my sister, is she-?” Celeste smiled and, disengaging, gestured toward the enshadowed doorway and beckoned. Out stepped a lovely, raven-haired young woman, her sapphire-blue eyes clear and sparkling. “Sieur Roel, may I present Dame Avelaine du Manoir d’Emile. My Lady Avelaine, this is your brother Roel.”
Avelaine gaped and said, “Rollie, is it truly you?”
“Oui, Avi, it truly is.”
She rushed forward, and with tears in his eyes, Roel embraced her and kissed her on the forehead and whispered, “Oh, Avi, we searched so very long: Laurent, Blaise, Celeste, and I.”
Avelaine drew back and looked about. “Laurent and Blaise are here?”
Roel sighed. “I have some ill news, Avi. You see-”
“Hsst. .!” silenced Celeste, and in the quietness following they heard distant oncoming yells and the drumming of running footsteps.
Roel looked about, but there seemed to be no other exits, or if there were, they were well hidden.
Celeste nocked an arrow, and Roel raised Coeur d’Acier. “Avi, get behind us.”
“I can fight,” said Avelaine.
Roel glanced at Celeste, and she looked at the door and then to Avelaine and said, “Do not leave her unarmed.” Roel loosed the keeper on his long-knife and handed it to his sister, and then he ran for the archway, shouting,
“Kill any who get past me.” He came to a halt beside the opening, his back to the inside wall.
A howl sounded, and Roel risked a quick glance down the passage and then ducked back. Some kind of great black doglike beast loped on all fours toward the chamber. Behind it came more creatures, some on two legs, others on four, some flapping on great awkward wings.
As the black dog hurtled through the doorway-
shkk! — Coeur d’Acier took off its head. A gangling man ran through, and, shouting a war cry, Roel swung again, striking off another head. A flapping creature shot past above, and an arrow pierced it through a yellow eye, and scrawking, down it tumbled.