Cloak of the Two Winds (29 page)

Kosimo gazed wildly at Beryl who was walking toward him.

"A trick," he whispered. "You've slain me with a trick."

"Obviously," Beryl said. "Your error lay in forgetting the lesson of history. My race is superior to yours. For all your supposed aestheticism, you lack our sensitivity. A human shaper would have felt the unseen serpent."

The treeman had poked his grotesque head from Beryl's collar. Seeing Kosimo drop to his knees, the treeman chattered excitedly and crawled out on his mistress' shoulder. He jumped to the floor and scampered off to investigate the chamber.

Beryl bent over Kosimo, clutching the front of his gown to hold him up. "Where is the Cloak? Show it to me."

"I am perishing," he gasped. "But you can save me. You are conversant with the sorceries of old Nyssan, the spells to seize a dying mind and encase it in a gem or bit of glass."

"But I have no interest in preserving you," Beryl answered.

"But you must not let me die. I can serve you, teach you."

"I have no time." Beryl shook him violently. "Show me the Cloak."

Kosimo's weakening will succumbed. The image of the Cloak's location and of the passages leading to it appeared in his consciousness for Beryl to read.

By the time the Archimage had the way fixed in her mind, the serd was beginning to gag on the venom. Beryl let him slump to the floor. She stooped and picked up her dagger from amid the fragments of broken mirror. She stood up, glancing coolly around the chamber as Kosimo writhed away his ancient life at her feet.

Satisfied that the serd was dead, Beryl turned and strode from the chamber, the excited treeman racing on her heels.

Amlina and the Iruks descended a dark and narrow stairway cut in the rock of the Long Acropolis. Lonn went first, sword drawn, his other hand holding a red lamp pilfered from an upper hall. Glyssa followed at his shoulder, wrapped in his woolen cape, holding the spear Draven had given her.

Far underground the stairway ended in a black, musty vault. The lamp's red glow illuminated winged carvings on the doorjambs, their faces strangely long and emaciated. Lonn held the lamp high and could vaguely discern full-sized statues of hooded men looming in the darkness of the wide chamber.

"Burial chambers," Glyssa muttered. "We have to pass through here."

"Is there another way?" Karrol asked.

Lonn shared her misgivings. Iruks never liked trespassing in the domains of ghosts.

But Glyssa shook her head. "This is the only way I know."

She started along the wall to their left. Lonn and the others followed, passing dim alcoves full of statues and sarcophagi, all heavily draped in cobwebs. Except for their padding footsteps the vault was quiet. The air, thick and clammy to the skin, smelled of dust and burial perfumes.

Interspersed among the alcoves stood tall, unlighted portals. Glyssa entered one such doorway and led her mates down a curving passage. The crypt was even larger than had at first appeared. Numerous generations of the temple's servants lay entombed here, their graves ranging from elaborate monuments cluttered with sculpture to narrow shelves just long enough to hold a wrapped corpse. Lonn ground his teeth and hoped the multitudes of ghosts would not be stirred to angry life by this intrusion.

When they had passed several intersecting corridors, Glyssa halted and looked back with a pained expression. "We may have come too far. I'm not sure where we're supposed to turn."

"You must be sure," Amlina said. "We could be lost down here for hours."

Glyssa shrank from the witch. "It's hard to remember."

"You must," Amlina replied.

"Don't bully her," Lonn intervened. "Remember what she has gone through."

Karrol put her arm protectively around Glyssa and glared at the witch.

"I'm not bullying her," Amlina said. "But the way lies in her memory, and it can be reached. Glyssa, will you let me help you remember?"

"What do I have to do?"

"Just close your eyes." Amlina laid her fingertips on Glyssa's forehead. "Relax and let your mind be at peace."

The witch spoke some words of Old Larthangan, then told Glyssa to envision herself passing here before and to see the path she had taken. Soon Glyssa indicated that she was recalling the scene. Amlina told her that when she opened her eyes she would remember the way.

Glyssa's eyes had a soft, dreamy look when they opened.

"You can lead us to the steps now," Amlina said.

Glyssa nodded. She looked down the murky passage, then turned and led them back the way they had come. At the first intersection, Glyssa chose a different passage. She led the way down other twisting corridors, until Lonn's sense of direction was utterly baffled.

Their path ended in a cul-de-sac, an alcove thronged with foot-high statues. Lonn thought Glyssa's memory had failed them. But she grabbed one of the statues and pulled it forward. There came a rumble and a sharp grating sound.

Lonn thrust his lamp forward and saw the stone wall at the back of the cul-de-sac sliding open. The statue, he realized, was a lever controlling the secret door.

"Well done, Glyssa." Amlina put a hand on her shoulder.

Beyond the opening a narrow stair curved downward. The Iruks and the witch had to bend to enter the passage, but soon it grew high enough for them to walk upright. They descended in single-file, Lonn first, then Glyssa and the others. The rough-hewn steps curled back and forth seemingly with no logic or plan. The companions had gone some distance when a growling noise erupted in the air.

Lonn pointed his blade, but no lurking enemy appeared from the dark. Instead the steps and walls began to tremble. Lonn dropped his sword and clutched the shaking wall to keep from falling. He heard the confused exclamations of his mates as the lamp swayed in his grip, almost smashing against the rock.

The tremor subsided as suddenly as it had begun. The Iruks stood tense, holding the walls and each other.

"What does it mean?" Eben demanded of the witch.

Amlina's ear was pressed to the stone. "I think it means the serd has perished. The stone shuddered as it gave up his power. Hurry. We must find the Cloak before Beryl does."

The party continued downward, until the steps ended in a wide, gloomy tunnel. The air was chill and damp with a strong briny smell. After thirty paces they stopped before a broad gap in the tunnel wall. A single carving leaned over the opening, a gargoyle-like fish with massive teeth. Below it stretched a lamp-lit corridor of polished green marble. A great slab of black stone lay broken on the tunnel floor.

"This is the entrance to his chambers," Glyssa said. "When last I was here this stone covered the opening. It only moved at his command."

"Now it is broken like all his designs," Amlina said. "Come."

The witch and the Iruks stepped over the broken chunks of stone and entered the high-ceilinged corridor. Doorways opened to right and left, and the mates paused at one after another of these with increasing excitement. The rooms were filled with treasure: silks and furs and woven rugs, weapons and armor, expensive plates and serving vessels, carvings and jewelry, mounds of silver and gold coins.

"Look at this hoard," Lonn exclaimed. Suddenly he remembered his dream, of a ship laden with such treasure as this, rounding the Cape of Dekyll.

"Later," Amlina called from down the corridor. "First the Cloak. Hurry!"

Reluctantly, the Iruks tore themselves away and ran after the witch. They caught up with her at the far doorway, which opened onto a ledge overlooking a moat that glinted faintly with sealight. Across the moat, a flight of steps climbed up to a similar ledge and another doorway.

"The serd's casting place," Amlina surmised. "It's logical he would surround himself with water."

As she spoke, the witch was already moving down the steps. At the bottom she waded into the moat without hesitation. Lonn could not tell how she knew the moat was shallow enough for wading, but he and his mates hurried after, slogging through waist-deep, slimy water. In moments they were climbing the steps on the far side, their dripping legs aglitter with witchlight.

Amlina hastened across the ledge and through the doorway, Lonn but a step behind. Inside he started and pointed his sword, ready to lunge. Two of Kosimo's white-robed thralls sat slouched against the doorjambs, mouths lolling open, dazed looks on their faces.

"They are harmless," Amlina called over her shoulder. "They can't even move without the serd's will to drive them."

In the red lamplight Lonn saw Glyssa turn her head from the thralls and shiver.

"Come on," he said. "You're with your mates now."

The Iruks crossed the wide, low-ceilinged chamber, past tables and cabinets and several more inert servants littering the floor. They walked around a gray-black maze in the middle of the room—shunning it by instinct as Amlina had also done.

The witch had gone at once to the farthest alcove of the chamber, where a wide-mouthed fireplace burned with blue and yellow flames. Fires were also lit beneath a number of cauldrons and barrel-shaped vessels spouting pipes. Amlina opened each of these in turn.

The Iruks reached her just as she flung open the door of an iron furnace and recoiled at the roaring burst of flame. Amlina looked about hurriedly, then held out her hand to Draven.

"Give me your sword."

She took the proffered blade, pulled up her sleeve, and leaned over toward the fiery opening. Shielding her face with one arm, she pushed the blade into the furnace and fished out a burning cloth of black and silver. She tossed it on the floor, and in a moment the flames vanished and the Cloak of the Two Winds lay whole and unburned on the tiles.

"Praised be the skills of Eglemarde," Amlina said with reverence. "Her Great Ensorcellment abides."

The witch touched the Cloak and found it had already cooled. She picked it up and slipped it on over her own coat.

"Let us be gone from this place," she said.

The Iruks heartily agreed, thoughts of Kosimo's treasure filling their heads. When they reached the ledge overlooking the moat Amlina paused.

"Wait. I must be sure the Cloak has suffered no damage."

Deliberately, she pointed her left hand down at the water. In a moment a charge of light ran down the silver pattern on the Cloak's sleeve. A sphere of silver burst from the cuff and expanded as it flowed through the air. The scintillating veil of a freezewind danced over the moat, its whooshing voice reverberating against the stone walls. When the light and sound faded, the moat was glimmering ice.

"Thank you for demonstrating that its power is intact."

Beryl stood on the ledge across the moat, four of her sword giants lurking behind her. Their appearance had been masked by the passing curtain of the freezewind.

"Now, little apprentice," she said, "you may return the Cloak to its rightful owner."

"Exactly what I intend," Amlina called defiantly. "It belongs to the House of the Deepmind in Minhang."

"Ha! You are loyal to Larthang now?" Beryl scoffed. "Come, I know you better."

"You only think you know me. That was your mistake before." Amlina raised both hands and pointed them at Beryl, "The Two Winds together—lethal even to you."

"No!" Beryl thrust out her hand, fingers outstretched. "You cannot use it against me."

Amlina's arms trembled, but no power erupted from the Cloak.

"What's wrong?" Draven asked.

Amlina's eyes never strayed from Beryl. "She's interfering. She possessed the Cloak for eighty years, and it still responds to her will.
But I am wearing it now
."

"Ignorant little Larthang," Beryl taunted her. "You cannot fight me, just as your puny henchmen cannot hope to defeat these sword-arms of mine."

The Archimage gestured sharply with her free hand, and the drogs tottered forward. The blood-splashed giants had slain nearly a hundred of Kosimo's servants, losing only three of their own number in the fray.

The Iruks threw off their capes and made ready for battle. Karrol and Draven had already passed out the spears—two or three to each of the mates. Now Draven hefted one over his shoulder.

"If we can harpoon the witch, I'll wager her monsters will curl up and vanish."

"Try," Amlina answered through clenched teeth. "Your spears might at least distract her."

Draven growled and flung a spear. In a moment, Lonn and the others did the same. One of their casts sailed high and struck the wall over Beryl's head. Others struck the black, steely arms and shoulders of the drogs and fell harmlessly to the floor. One spear Beryl swept aside with a wild gesture of her left hand, her right hand still pointed firmly at Amlina.

Then Beryl gestured again and the drogs lurched forward. They marched off the ledge and fell to the ice below. They braced themselves with their sword-points, climbed unhurt to their feet, and started across the frozen moat.

"You must hold them off," Amlina said. "Aim at their heads."

The Iruks cast their second spears. Barbed points struck arms and chests but did no damage. Only one spear found its way through the defense of hunched shoulders and waving swords. That drog's head popped in a hideous shower of fiery ichor and unliving flesh. The giant swung its arms in frantic gyrations. Its feet slipped and it fell, wriggling gruesomely.