The Enseterat's arms were raised, the glow streaming from his open hands setting the night sky wildly alight.
Before Tyranny could order K'jarr and the others to flee, Wulfgar pointed in their direction. A narrow beam shot straight at them. Tyranny had never seen a bolt of the craft launched from so far away.
The three warriors scattered frantically, the bolt narrowly missing them. As it roared past, Tyranny could feel its heat and wind tear at her hair and clothing. The force of the blast turned K'jarr over. With Tyranny holding on for dear life, he tumbled nearly fifty meters before stabilizing himself again. Trying to take stock of her surroundings, Tyranny saw that the other warriors still carried their passengers. Blessedly, none of them seemed to have been hurt.
More azure bolts coursed through the air. Tyranny could see that the unknown man and woman were adding their own magic to Wulfgar's. Soon the sky was full of the deadly streaking shafts.
"Get us out of here!" Tyranny screamed. "Back to the litter!"
With Tyranny, Scars, and Shailiha holding on tight, the three warriors turned and flew northwest as fast as their wings could take them. As they put some distance between themselves and the Citadel, the onslaught of azure bolts finally stopped.
Thinking that they might finally be safe, Tyranny sighed in relief. Then she looked down again, and a chill went through her.
The seven Black Ships were chasing them.
The pursuing warships sailed in a straight battle line. Their speed was amazing, but they were not quite able to maintain the pace of the flying warriors, and they slowly lost ground. At first Tyranny was elated. But even Minion warriors would eventually tire, she realized.
The Black Ships remained on course like a pack of dogs following a scent. Then she saw azure again-not in the sky, but upon the sea. The Black Ships were glowing.
She watched in awe as the mighty vessels took on the color of the craft. The aura started at the vessels' sterns, slowly engulfing each ship as it moved toward the bow and replacing black with the most brilliant hue of the craft she had ever seen.
Tyranny had to admit that the vessels were magnificent. She looked over at Shailiha and Scars and saw that they were equally entranced.
Suddenly she heard a great rumbling. Louder and louder it became, until she realized that it was coming from the vessels.
The Black Ships were rising from the water.
At first she thought she was seeing things. She blinked her eyes and looked again, but the scene remained the same. Seawater ran from the ships' bottoms as they rose about ten meters above the waves. Their speed increased. Tyranny looked over at Shailiha. Her face grim, the princess shook her head.
The Black Ships were gaining on them. Tyranny knew that the litter couldn't be far away now. But if she caused it to glow, the ships' captains would surely see it. If the Black Ships destroyed the litter, not only might they lose the remaining Minions, Micah, and the captured slaver, but the enchanted sextant would be lost as well. Worse yet, they still had to return to the Reprise well ahead of their pursuers, and Faegan's portal would be leagues away from there, if it opened at all.
Then she remembered something she had so glibly asked all of the others not so long ago, back inside the demonslaver guardhouse. If the Jin'Sai were here, she wondered, what would he do?
Panic gripped her; she had never been so unsure of herself in her life. Turning, she gazed forward and searched for the tiny litter.
Suddenly she remembered the last command in Old Eutracian that Faegan had written down for her. He had told her to use it only in the direst of emergencies, for it would be difficult to control and he couldn't guarantee how long it might last. Now it seemed their only hope. But first they would have to reach the litter well ahead of the Black Ships. Behind them, she could see the dark hulls looming ever closer.
The chase was on.
CHAPTER LIV
As Faegan sat alone in the chilly, subterranean room, he pulled the shawl closer around his shoulders. One night and much of the next day had passed since he and his group had been trapped here in Valrenkium, and he could still see no way out of their troubles. The blue-tinted blocks of ice standing against the walls twinkled back at him, only adding to his sense of outrage and disgust.
He had ordered the entire village searched once more. This time, Reznik's cellar had been discovered. Now one of Reznik's handwritten texts lay open in the wizard's lap. He was hoping that he might find notes to guide him in removing the strange stone lattice that entrapped them. So far, he had had no luck.
Faegan was beginning to develop a feel for Reznik and his ways. Like Satine, Reznik was not only ruthless but also an expert in his chosen field. There would have been nothing, Faegan realized, that Reznik would have loved more than to add another insult to the wizard's defeat.
In his haste Reznik had been unable to take everything. It was Faegan's guess that he had hidden much of what remained here in this cellar, where he hoped it wouldn't be found. As Faegan examined the grisly treasures of the craft, he was forced to admit that despite how much he hated what had gone on here, the tools and texts of the Valrenkian's various subdisciplines were fascinating. If Faegan and the warriors could escape this place, he had every intention of taking Reznik's possessions back to the Redoubt for further study.
The wizard sighed. This room-nay, this entire village-was a gigantic shop of horrors. He hadn't seen this much evidence of twisted, secret torture since the Sorceresses' War, and he hoped he would never have to again. Worse yet, he had not succeeded in his goal of wiping out the Valrenkians.
He would give anything to know where these abusers of the craft had fled. He knew that there were greater problems in the realm to worry about, but no matter how long it might take, he would personally hunt down the Corporeals and kill them all. Not only because of their crimes against humanity, but also for their crimes against the craft.
But first he and his warriors had to escape this place.
He frowned as he remembered the old wizards' axiom about survival. Popular during the Sorceresses' War, it was called the Rule of Threes. Even wizards and sorceresses could survive without air for only three minutes, without water for three days, and without food for three weeks. Had he brought the right tools of the craft with him, he might have been able to conjure some food. But as it was, it seemed they were to remain desperately hungry. Fortunately, they had found a working well at one end of the square, so at least they would be spared dying of dehydration.
The stone lattice still spanned the entire village. He didn't dare venture into the trap-filled maze, the only other way out of this madhouse. Some of the warriors had volunteered to brave it, to see if they could make it to the other side. The offer had been tempting, but in the end the wizard's heart couldn't allow it.
But what worried him the most were his fellow members of the Conclave who were no longer in Eutracia-Tristan, Wigg, and Celeste in Parthalon, and Tyranny and Shailiha somewhere out upon the Sea of Whispers. By now they might all desperately need his help to return home, and he couldn't give it.
Finally his frustration got the better of him. In a rare display of anger he threw the text he had been reading across the room. When several of Reznik's macabre bottles shattered, it did his heart good.
"I surrender!" a voice boomed from the other side of the cellar.
Wheeling his chair around, Faegan saw Traax descend the steps. There was an unexpected smile on the warrior's face. Faegan scowled.
"It would be a shame to kill me, wizard, for I bring good news!" Traax said. When he reached the dirt floor, he planted his hands on his hips and his smile widened.