The spirit released Kester’s arm and drifted away, leaving an ugly band of rotting flesh on the tarek where Sona’s mouth had been. “As long as they’re careful to touch none of the bones,” she said. “Otherwise, everyone in this pit will have reason to regret our compromise.”
The doors to their cages were barely open before the two heads floated out. They dropped into the depths of the abyss instantly, as if they feared Tithian would change his mind and return them to their cages.
“Are ye sure ye can trust those two?” Kester asked, scowling at the pair’s quick escape.
“I don’t trust them at all,” Tithian replied, hanging the empty cages over a small crystal. “But if they don’t come back, we’ll know they found a way out.”
This drew a frown from Sona. “If they don’t come back, it’ll be because they disturbed the bones,” she said, returning to her perch. The spirit narrowed her eyes at Agis, then added, “Until then, I suggest you work on keeping your promise. You know how limited the patience of children is.”
Agis looked down at Tithian. “If you fail again-”
“I won’t,” the king interrupted. He returned the noble’s gaze with a hint of pain in his eyes. “Your treatment of me really is unwarranted,” he said. “Especially considering what I intended to offer you, had my hopes of becoming a sorcerer-king not been dashed.”
“I wouldn’t have wanted it,” the noble said.
“Really?” the king asked. “You wouldn’t have been interested in an offer of life?”
“For that offer to have any value, you would have had to threaten me in the first place,” the noble replied. “You could hardly expect me to be grateful for that.”
Tithian smiled patiently. “Of course not,” he replied. “But you misunderstand me. I had meant to offer you life in a different sense-in the sense of living forever.”
Agis narrowed his eyes. “Now is no time for games,” he said. “And you should know me better than to think you could buy me with such tactics.”
A crooked smile creased Tithian’s thin lips, and he clucked his tongue at Agis. “So suspicious,” he said. “It’s no wonder our friendship has always been strained.”
“Our relationship has been strained because you’re a liar and a thief,” the noble countered.
“And a murderer, as well,” Tithian added. “But I’ve never betrayed you.”
“How about when you abandoned your duties to the citizens of Tyr?” Agis replied.
Tithian rolled his eyes. “You’ve always placed too much value in the banal tools of appearance,” the king sneered. “I speak of life without end, and you are more concerned with a few promises we made to a bunch of ex-slaves and paupers.”
“That’s right,” Agis said, without hesitation. “And with bringing you to justice.”
“That’ll be enough arguing,” said Kester. She looked up at the green hues glimmering through the crystal ceiling. “Think about the job at hand. If we’re going to open those gates before Mag’r sinks my ship, we’d better make this try a good one-or hope Sacha and Wyan find a tunnel down below.” She glanced at Sona and pulled her muzzle back in a defiant snarl.
The trio waited in silence as Fylo completed his climb, then Kester directed the giant to wait near Tithian. Agis pressed a fingertip to the pit’s translucent cover and closed his eyes, tracing a wide circle. A black line appeared on the shimmering quartz, outlining the pattern he had traced.
Kester nodded to Tithian, who closed his eyes and swept his hand across the pit. A plank of psychic energy appeared where he had gestured, anchored directly into the base of two massive crystals. The platform was about as broad as the king was tall, constantly changing from one translucent color to another.
Fylo eyed the platform cautiously, then advanced one foot onto its surface. The plank sagged beneath his weight, crackling and hissing blue sparks beneath his heel. The giant retreated to the crystals to which he had been cleaving.
“More solid!” he ordered.
Tithian opened one eye and glared at the giant. “I will-but you must be fast. I can’t support your bloated carcass for long.” The king returned his concentration to the platform, which settled on an opaque, granite red color and ceased to shimmer.
At the same time, the circle Agis had traced above his head began to fill in, darkening to jet black. Wisps of cold fog trailed beneath it, writhing about like street dancers in the Elven Market.
“Now, Fylo!” Agis gasped, already growing pale from the effort of holding his circle’s form against the tides of mystic force flowing through the crystal cover.
Casting a wary eye at Tithian’s face, the giant stepped onto the platform and squatted down with his hand next to his hip. There was a great rush of air as he filled his lungs, then he fixed his eye on the black circle Agis had created. Inside that circle, there would be none of the magic that flowed through the rest of the crystal lid and made it impossible to break.
Fylo gave a mighty shout and drove his knuckles straight to the heart of the circle. A terrific boom echoed through the pit, and the half-breed’s hand bounced away from the cover. The platform beneath his feet did not waver even slightly, nor did the lid break.
“You coward!” Tithian yelled, opening his eyes. “Is that as hard as you can hit it?”
Fylo scowled and started to say something, but Kester cut him off. “Pay him no attention,” she said, noting that Agis’s body was starting to tremble from the effort of keeping his circle open. “Try again, Fylo. This time ye know the plank won’t sink, so ye can hit even harder.”
The giant looked away from Tithian, then closed his other fist. “Fylo break lid!” he promised.
The half-breed’s knuckles crashed into the crystal. Sharp pops and cracks echoed off the shaft walls, followed by a victorious bellow from the giant. Shards of crystal rained down on Fylo’s head and shoulders, then tumbled toward Kester and Tithian. The tarek covered her head and felt several fragments bounce off her forearms, opening a series of sharp cuts in her leathery hide. A moment later, the pit was filled with a lyrical chime as the jagged pieces bounced into the darkness below.
Kester felt a cool breeze descending over her body and looked up. She saw a star-shaped fracture centered in the black circle above the noble’s head, easily wide enough for a man-or a female tarek-to slip through. Ragged shafts of predawn light streamed into the pit, illuminating Agis’s weary face in a sickly green glow. To her distress, Kester could also see a few yellow tendrils of morning sunlight streaming across the sky.
Castoffs began to leave their perches on the yellowed skulls. They streamed out of the crack in a wild flock, chortling and screaming loudly in mad delight as they escaped into the open air. Even through the crystalline lid, the morbid and spiteful tone of their muffled voices made Kester’s hide prickle.
“Once more, Fylo!” she urged, climbing toward the exit. “That’s wide enough for us, but not for you.”
The giant glanced down at Tithian, who now had a steady trickle of sweat dripping from the tail of his long auburn hair. The king gave the half-breed a reassuring nod and returned his eyes, bulging with strain, to the platform. Fylo drew his hand back for another blow.
A pair of familiar voices spoke from the area beneath his feet. “You’re not leaving without us!” declared Wyan.
“You should know better than to play games with us, Tithian,” added Sacha. “We taught you everything!”
The sallow faces of Sacha and Wyan rose from beneath the platform. They drifted up past Fylo’s fist and hovered near his head, causing him to hold his blow.
“Get out of the way,” Tithian said. “We weren’t going to leave without you.”
“Don’t lie to us!” Sacha hissed.
The head clamped his teeth down on one of Fylo’s dangling earlobes and began to pull, drawing a pained howl from the giant. Wyan bit the other one, also tugging on it. To avoid having his ears ripped away, the half-breed was forced to turn in a circle.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Tithian demanded.