“Wait! Gaelin, I had nothing to do with his death!”
“It seems you had nothing to do with anything,” Gaelin replied.
“How could I know Tuorel meant to kill him?” Cuille said, throwing his hands in the air and turning away.
There was a moment of silence in the room. In a small, cold voice, Erin said, “What did you say, my lord count?”
“I said, ‘How could I know – ’ ”
“You knew Tuorel was going to attack Shieldhaven,”
Gaelin said. “You knew, and you didn’t say anything.” He turned away, his chest aching as if he’d been physically struck. “Let me guess. Ghoeran emissaries promised you something if you would just stand aside. Was it money? Lands? Or something else?”
“Gaelin, you have to understand the position I was in. You don’t know everything that was going on!”
“Cuille, I don’t want to know what your price was. I hope that whatever Tuorel gave you was worth it.” Gaelin looked at Erin and said, “Come on, let’s go. There’s nothing here for us.”
He pivoted and marched to the door, turning his back on the count. He didn’t even glance over his shoulder, but suddenly Cuille muttered a vicious oath under his breath and spoke.
“It was Ilwyn,” Cuille said. “I asked Tuorel to spare her. I knew he was going to attack, and I told him I’d refuse the Mhor’s summons if he didn’t harm her.”
Gaelin stopped and turned to face Cuille. The count shifted his weight nervously. Quite deliberately, Gaelin drew his sword, the steel hissing as it slid out of the sheath. “You bought my sister by betraying my father?”
Erin stepped forward quickly and grabbed Gaelin’s sword arm. “Gaelin, don’t! If you kill him, you’ll be dead in minutes.”
She spared the count a single contemptuous glance.
“Besides, he’s miserable already. Look at him, Gaelin!”
Cuille made no move to defend himself. His advisors, Trebelaen and the Lady Viersha, stood frozen. Gaelin took another half-step forward, feeling cold and sick inside. He raised the sword, and held it for a moment before slamming it back into its sheath and turning away in disgust. Without a word he left Cuille standing in the center of the room. Erin gave the count one last withering glare and then followed him out.
“What do we do now?” she asked.
“I have no idea,” Gaelin replied. “I can’t stay here, though.”
In the courtyard, Gaelin found Boeric and Niesa waiting, their horses laden with full saddlebags. He patted Blackbrand on the neck, swung up into the saddle, and rode out of the castle without looking back.
Bannier stood in the dark heart of his tower, contemplating the work that lay before him. The door into night stood waiting in the corner of the chamber, and before the shadow the Princess Ilwyn trembled like a pale white flower. Her head was bowed, and her hands were bound behind her back with thin silver chains, looped gracefully over one wrist and under the other. The cold metal was far too delicate to restrain her physically, but it concealed powerful enchantments that deadened Ilwyn’s will. Her blank gaze wandered off into the darkness. “Wait here, Ilwyn, and do not move,” Bannier said.
It might have been a trick of his eyes, but the girl’s shoulders seemed to sag a little lower, and her head nodded forward.
The wizard smiled with satisfaction and left the room. In the chamber below, his sitting room, Bannier entertained another guest. Sprawled out in the center of the room lay Madislav, his chest slowly rising and falling.
The wizard examined Madislav again, reassuring himself that all was ready. He had been able to preserve the Vos warrior’s life the night before, using an elixir that was nearly irreplaceable.
Still, he considered it a worthwhile investment. Tuorel had goaded him into taking matters into his own hands; Bannier was determined to do so in the time and manner he saw fit.
He reached into the pouch at his belt and withdrew an acrid red powder. Measuring just a pinch, he tossed it into Madislav’s face. The warrior’s eyes flew open, and he drew in a great breath, then spat out a string of Vos oaths. “ Slavnyi boi! Where am I?”
Bannier leaned into his field of view. “You’re in my tower, Madislav. You recognize me, don’t you?”
Anger contorted the Vos’s face. “Bannier,” he snarled.
Then, a moment later, his face paled. “I cannot move.”
“Aye,” the wizard agreed. “Not until I allow you to, and I’ve no wish to see whether or not you have enough strength left to break me like a stick.”
Madislav closed his eyes. A moment later, he seemed to regain some of his composure. “What is it you are wanting of me?”
“I have a task for you,” Bannier said. “You are going to help me track down Gaelin and capture him.”
The Vos laughed, but the sound came out as a ghastly chuckle. “I am not thinking so,” he said after he finished.
“Trust me, Madislav, you’ll have little choice in the matter.
In fact, I intend to borrow your body for a time. Your mind will be held in this gem.” Bannier held up a large emerald, perfectly cut, with myriad flashing facets. “I will send my mind into your body. To all outward appearances, I will be Madislav. That may allow me to find our elusive prince and get close to him before Tuorel’s hounds run him to ground.”
Madislav grimaced. “And where will your body be?”
“Someplace safe, I assure you. A place where I keep many things of value to me. In fact, we’ll be going there soon.” Bannier gestured into the darkness, and Madislav heard a strange scraping and clicking sound. The air seemed stale and cold.
Two skeletons lurched into the chamber, moving with a mechanical precision. At the wizard’s direction, the horrid things seized Madislav’s arms in their yellowed talons and lifted him easily, dragging him up the stairs. The warrior’s head lolled like a corpse, and his nerveless legs trailed behind him uselessly, but he did not utter a sound.
Bannier turned to follow the skeletons and their burden, but at that moment he became aware of intruders approaching his chamber door. He scowled, but turned and headed back down into his sitting room. A moment later, a heavy sword-hilt thumped his door vigorously.
“Bannier!” called a muffled voice. “Baron Tuorel wants to see you at once! Princess Ilwyn is missing!”
“Tell Tuorel I took her, in accordance with the bargain we made,” Bannier responded. “Now, run back to your master!”
He waited until the renewed pounding paused for a moment, and said, “I will return shortly, gentlemen, and I will speak to the baron then. In the meantime, I must warn you that there are magical wards of some power that guard my chambers. I guarantee the first man to set foot in here will die, instantly and horribly. The second and third men… well, it may be they will wish they had been first. Good day.” He trotted up the stairs behind the skeletons, savoring the thoughtful silence that fell outside his door.
In the chamber upstairs, Ilwyn stood where he had left her, now with Madislav and his skeletal bearers a few paces behind.
Bannier stepped in front of Ilwyn to face the disturbing column of darkness, and spoke the words of an ancient invocation.
The room grew dark and cold as the shadow yawned deeper, waiting. “You will follow me, Ilwyn, remaining two paces behind at all times,” he said over his shoulder. The princess nodded again, her eyes on the floor.
From behind her, Madislav somehow summoned up enough strength to raise his head and glare at Bannier.
“Where are you taking us?” he rasped.
Bannier smiled coldly. “There is a world that exists beside this one. I’ve studied it for years now. The roads are strange there, and I can cover a mile with a few steps on the other side. And there are powers in the darkness with which I have become familiar.” He returned his attention to the portal of darkness. “You may know it as the Shadow World.”