"That is precisely what I intend to do," the other said grimly. He had his sword in his hand now; beside Danae, the guard he'd called Carmum had released her arm and similarly drawn his blade.
"And I, not you, will do all the talking," Habri added, waving the tip of his sword near her throat. "Is that understood? Not a word, or Carmum and Torlis will vie for the privilege of killing you."
She managed to nod. He's gone totally insane, she thought desperately, heart pounding in her throat.
Good God, what do I do?
Habri topped the stairs and headed straight across the room toward the trolls, Danae and Torlis close behind him as Carmum dropped back a pace. Habri made no attempt to be silent, and Danae saw with a sinking feeling that all four trolls had their crossbow pistols pointed before the intruders had taken their third step. "Ho, trolls of the Castle-lord Simrahi," Habri called across. "I bring news to the castle-lord that cannot wait until morning." He half gestured back to Danae and Torlis. "I have uncovered a traitorous plot to usurp the castle-lord's throne, with this sorcerous woman and this guard at the head."
Danae gasped in shock, shock that quickly turned to pain as Torlis squeezed her arm warningly.
"The castle-lord is not to be disturbed until morning," one of the trolls called back, its flat voice sending a violent shiver up Danae's spine. Flashback to the confrontation outside the Tunnel... except that this time the trolls' electromechanical reflexes wouldn't be hampered by spirit meddling. Habri would get them to open the door—would attempt to gain entry to Simrahi's chambers—and the trolls would fight back.
And they would all die.
She clenched her teeth, then forced herself to relax them. With only one option left, the agony of decision making was gone, leaving an almost morbid peace in its place. It's now or never, girl, she told herself. At least this way they won't get the door open. Who knows?—if you're fast enough, the trolls might even let whatever's left of you surrender to them. Taking a deep breath, she eyed Torlis, choosing the best spot to hit him—
And behind the trolls, the doors exploded outward in an explosion of golden light.
The thunderous clamor as the heavy wood slammed the trolls to the floor almost but not quite drowned out Habri's startled expletive. But the traitor recovered fast. Danae's mind had barely had time to register the fact that the orange explosion was actually a chair and human figure encased in a glowing sphere when Habri gave a loud shout and charged toward the stairway now laid wide open before him. The grip on Danae's arm tightened as Torlis broke into a run behind his leader, forcing her to do likewise. Behind her, Carmum came past them on her other side, while a quick glance showed the rest of Habri's army streaming up into the room with swords drawn. Ahead, the orange sphere was slowing from its high-speed impact; the trolls were still struggling to get out from under the rubble of the shattered doors—
And planting one foot, Danae pulled sharply on her arm, yanking Torlis off balance, and drove her free fist hard into his armpit.
The other bellowed, letting go of her arm as if he'd been scalded. He spun around, his expression a mixture of pain and utter astonishment. That's right, you scum, Danae thought toward him with grim satisfaction. The weak, helpless female is gone. As a matter of fact, she was never really here.
His astonishment lasted only a second before he bellowed again and swung his sword in a vicious horizontal arc... but that one second was all she needed. Even as the sword slashed toward her side, she dropped to her left forearm and hip and kicked out with both feet directly at his knees.
The double crack was audible even over the war cries from behind and the troll alarms from ahead.
Torlis toppled over backwards, screaming in agony, and Danae was free. Tucking her legs back under her, she rolled back to her feet—
Just in time to duck as a second sword whistled past her nose. Carmum, come back to help his comrade.
He'd caught her off guard, but the sword was already past her, and until he could stop its motion and bring it back around she would have the advantage. Giving a gut-tightening shriek, as Hart and her combat instructors had long ago taught her to do, she swung her empty hand up as if to throw something in Carmum's eyes. Empty or not, the other's blink reflex still cut in, and for a split second he was blind. Leaping toward him, Danae lowered one hand to block any backswing of the sword and swung the edge of the other toward his throat—
And dropped to the floor as, out of nowhere, the orange sphere rammed full into her opponent.
"Damn," she breathed, scrambling to her feet. The sphere came tightly around and abruptly the orange glow vanished. She took a long step, leaped upward to grab Ravagin's outstretched hand, and a second later was wedged beside him in the crystalline throne.
"Goldlight on" he snapped. The orange sphere reappeared, and suddenly his arms were around her, holding her tightly to him.
She hugged back with equal strength, feeling her arms beginning to tremble with reaction. "You okay?" he asked anxiously into her ear.
"I'm fine," she gasped back. "I was afraid you'd been captured. Where did you get this—my God, is this a bubble?"
"Sure is." Ravagin twisted partly away from her, freeing one hand while leaving the other still around her. "Throne: follow my mark; mark."
Danae turned her head to find they were moving toward the doorway Ravagin had just shattered.
Beyond the golden glow, she could see some of Habri's men were already on the stairs and heading up. "Ravagin! Habri's past the trolls—"
"I know," he said grimly. "Throne: more speed; continual mark. Goldlight off."
And before she realized just what he was doing, the chair abruptly darted forward to follow his pointing hand through the doorway and up the stairs.
She inhaled sharply, stomach twisting with the sudden upward movement even as a spasm of claustrophobia tried to tie knots into it. "Ravagin!—the bubble—"
"Not enough room in here to use it," he barked. He was right on that count; between walls, ceiling, and running people, there wasn't a hell of a lot of room in the stairway. "I don't want to run anybody down."
"You don't want to run down traitors?"
"Nope—I want to save them for Simrahi."
They shot past the last of the climbers—Habri himself—reached the top of the stairs—
"Goldlight, on; throne, stop," Ravagin snapped; and with a hard deceleration that nearly threw Danae off the chair the orange glow reappeared and the throne came to a dead halt.
Neatly blocking the stairs.
Ravagin took a shuddering breath. "I'll be damned," he said, something midway between awe and disbelief in his voice. "It actually worked. Well... Throne: rotate one-half turn." Smoothly, the chair turned to face back down the stairs.
"You carhrat!" Habri spat at them, waving his sword impotently at the golden haze. "You spineless, lying bastard of a carhrat! I offered you your freedom and you repay me with treachery—"
Danae glanced at Ravagin, half expecting him to respond with invective of his own. But he just sat there, listening coolly as Habri continued to rave. A motion from the bottom of the stairs caught Danae's eye...
She barely had time to clamp her teeth before the troll fired its crossbow, and Habri's tirade was cut off in mid-word.
Closing her eyes, she let a shiver run up through her body. "Is it over now?" she asked, a sudden weariness washing over her. "Can we please get out of here now?"
"Not quite yet," a calm voice from behind them answered before Ravagin could speak. "Goldlight: off."
The golden glow vanished... and Danae turned to see Castle-lord Simrahi standing by the archway.