Yet she'd come to despise the mortals of Zhalfir, so what did it matter if they suffered and died? Indeed, since the fiend was here to slay Sabul and so end her servitude, she supposed she ought to rejoice at the creature's advent, even though it would deny her the chance to take revenge on the magician herself.
Well, however she ought to feel, she needn't fret over what to do. Thanks to Sabul's magic, she had little choice but to remain here in the mansion of the Ilmieras and seek her designated victim. Never mind that meanwhile the dark spirit would be closing in on its own.
Or so she thought. But as she stepped past the unconscious sentries, she felt a tingling across her skin and realized that the power of the summoning had finally faded to nothing.
Laughing and crying at the same time, heedless now of who might see her, she raced through the house till she found a window. Kotara sprang through, spread her wings, and hurtled across the city.
When she climbed into Sabul's chamber, the wizard's bloodshot eyes widened in surprise. "That was fast, " he said. "I thought you'd have more trouble, considering that Ferren had taken refuge in the Ilmiera citadel itself. "
"Oh, I could have slaughtered him easily enough, " Kotara said, "if I'd cared to do so."
The gaunt young wizard peered at her uncertainly. "What?"
"But I didn't care to, " she continued. "Instead I choose to do this. " With a flick of her wing, she overturned a trestle table. An intricate alchemical apparatus constructed of glass retorts and tubing smashed on the floor. "And this. " She pushed over a rack of clattering wands and staves. "And this. " She snatched him off his stool and hurled him across the room. He slammed into a bookshelf, then fell on his backside. Volumes bound in cracked white leather and rolls of parchment tied with creamy ribbons showered down around his head.
Clutching his diamond amulet, he babbled an incantation intended to reestablish control over her. She felt the mana pulse from the gem and sensed the spell take form, but it never touched her.
"It's no use," she said. "You can't command me ever again. Shall I tell you why?"
Still sprawled among his texts and scrolls, eyeing her warily, he nodded.
"Because I'm no longer a creature of celestial magic," she said. "I can understand why you never anticipated such a thing. You humans remain human no matter what you do. But we spirits are fundamentally beings of mind and soul, for all that we wear the semblance of matter, and it turns out that our very essence can change if we do and feel the wrong things. You corrupted me, Sabul, made me your torturer and assassin, and in consequence, I'm not an angel anymore. I'm just some sort of… bird! Can you imagine how that grieves me, to have my very nature, my identity, my connection to the Divine Will, stripped away? At least I possess my liberty again, and that means I'm free to deal with you." She moved toward him.
He gazed up at her aghast but not, she sensed, because he feared for himself.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I never intended to harm you. I noticed that your appearance changed in small ways from one meeting to the next, but you never told me what it meant."
"Because I myself didn't comprehend until recently. But suppose I had told you. Would you have released me?"
"I–I wish I could say yes, but…" He composed his features and clambered to his feet. "Do what you will, Kotara, I won't resist. Mete out justice on your own behalf."
She had never hated him as much as at that moment. Had he either fought or pleaded for mercy, like all the men she'd slain at his behest, she could have gleefully torn him apart, but there was something about his calm contrition and acceptance of his fate that locked her rage up inside her.
Fortunately, it didn't matter.
Grinning, she said, "Actually, I don't have to soil my own hands with your blood. Like you, I choose to act through a surrogate."
He shook his head. "I don't understand."
"The Ilmieras have raised a knight banneret of the Abyss to kill you. It may be on its way here even now, and I'm content to commend you into its hands. My recent experiences notwithstanding, I'm sure that it's still a far more able torturer than I am."
"But- ' Clearly shocked, Sabul ran his fingers through his dirty, uncombed hair. "Kotara, I know something of the spirits of darkness, even if sorcerers of my order never summon them. I know about the champions of the Pit. Such a spirit wouldn't fight for the Ilmieras unless they paid it. What price did it demand?"
"License to hunt mortals throughout the city for the next three nights."
"No! Even the Ilmieras wouldn't agree to that."
"They're frightened of you, magician. They'd do almost anything to rid themselves of you and me. I warned you that if you continued to wage war, innocent people would come to grief."
He grimaced. "Yes, you did, and I refused to heed. Thus I have absolutely no right to expect you to listen to me now. But if the fiend slays me, it will afterward slaughter scores, perhaps hundreds, of others. Whereas if you stand with me now, there's at least a chance we can destroy it. Will you aid me?"
She laughed in his face.
He attempted to take her hands. "I beg you. I'm not asking for myself-"
Kotara stepped back out of his reach. "Were I still an angel," she said, "no one would have to exhort me to take up arms against a dark spirit or to pity the folk who might suffer at its hands. But thanks to you, Guildmage, I'm now a baser creature. I can put my own well-being first, and I see no reason to risk my life to aid a city that has given me so little cause to love it."
"Then there's only one solution," said Sabul somberly, picking up a ritual dagger with a silver crosspiece and pommel. "If the fiend must kill me to claim his reward, I'll simply have to deny it the opportunity."
Kotara chuckled. "I'm sorry, but even your suicide wouldn't answer. The creature merely promised the Ilmieras you'd be dead before morning. It didn't swear to take your life itself, and thus your self-destruction would fulfill the terms of the agreement. No, if you hope to save your fellow mortals, you'll have to fight the fiend. I wonder how long you'll last with your mind clouded by hunger and lack of sleep. When you haven't purified yourself since Axdan's burial. When your ceremonial robes are dirty and foul."
"Damn you!" Sabul cried. "How can you be so spiteful, considering what's at stake?"
"I am as you made me," she replied lightly. "Farewell,
Guildmage." She strode to the window and leaped into the night.
Within a minute, she was clear of the city. She had an urge to climb until she left the globe itself behind but was no longer certain she belonged among the stars. What if she encountered one of her sisters and that other spurned her for the altered and degraded creature she was? She didn't think she'd be able to bear it, so she simply flew out over the ocean. The black waves gleamed in the light of the two moons, and the wind carried the tang of saltwater.
She realized that she had no idea where to go. She told herself not to worry over that or anything else for the time being, to simply soar and enjoy her freedom. But she couldn't. There was a deadness inside her, and visions crept unbidden into her head.
She saw Sabul, famished, exhausted, and still wracked with grief, yet behaving like a mage devoted to goodness and justice at last, ready to sacrifice his own life to save his city. Of course, he was only seeking to undo a catastrophe that was ultimately of his own making, and that scarcely absolved him of his sins. Yet sorely as he'd injured her, she suddenly found it difficult to hate him utterly, knowing he'd transgressed for love of his brother.
She also saw the bloody, twisted faces of the young men she'd slain and imagined the captain of darkness committing similar atrocities on a far grander scale until the streets of the capital were awash in blood. She'd professed to hate the city with its greedy nobles fighting over the crumbs of wealth and power that slipped through the fingers of its decadent royalty. In point of fact, most of the inhabitants were commoners who took no part in the feuds of the upper classes.