[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.Still wearing Mason's form, she cleaned the dripping blade on Farrah's robes and made her way up toward the tower room.Mason was already asleep, lying on his back and snoring like a sailor.Kiva took a potion of forgetfulness from her bag.This she poured into the apprentice's open mouth, drop by subtle drop.When the vial was empty, she dropped it on the floor along with the blood-smeared knife.When Farrah's body was found and magical inquiries made, the magehounds would recover an image of the last face Farrah had seen, and they would discover her belief concerning her killer's identity.Mason, of course, would know nothing about the murder.His convenient loss of memory might be construed as self-preservation on his part, or as one layer of an elaborate deception.Either way, the situation would take some time to unravel.Kiva intended to use this time well.She began the casting of another far-traveling spell.Before Farrah Noor's body cooled, Kiva would stand in the Nath, the wild northwestern mountains.By this time tomorrow, descendants of all three of the crystal star's wizard creators would be in her hands.Chapter EightStorm clouds rumbled over the wild mountains.Rain fell steadily, and an occasional sizzle of lightning cast brief illumination over the bleak terrain.Kiva moved through the Nath like a shadow, aided by the keen night vision of her people.She kept alert, for her elf-blooded quarry also had vision well suited to darkness.Years of acquaintance with the Crinti bandits had taught Kiva their patterns, their habits, their haunts.She quietly made her way through twisting passes and over tumbled stone to a hidden watch post.There stood a tall warrior, a shadowy figure with storm-gray skin and hair, her feet planted wide apart and her face lifted to the wild sky as if to defy the gods."Xerish," Kiva murmured, recognizing the Crinti scout.She reached into her bag and fingered its contents until she found the spell components she needed.Then she rose and shouted out a hail in the mangled, bastardized Elvish dialect the Crinti used with such pride.The scout whirled, sword out and face wary.Her suspicion turned to joy when Kiva stepped out of her hiding place.Xerish loped forward and swept Kiva into a crushing, sisterly embrace."Elf-sister! I am so pleased you are not dead!"“That gratifies me, as well," Kiva said with as much warmth as she could manage.She quickly extricated herself from the Crinti's arms and held out a small, deeply tarnished silver locket."I have brought you a gift."The Crinti took the trinket and examined it with interest."Open it," Kiva suggested.Xerish found the clasp.Inside the locket was a crumbling lock of white hair.She lifted astonished eyes to Kiva's face."Relics," the elf said, confirming the warrior's unspoken question."The only known remains of Mahidra, the warrior woman who founded your clan."The Crinti quickly put the locket around her neck.Overwhelmed, she drew herself up and saluted Kiva, her fists thumping against opposite shoulders."I will prove myself worthy of this honor, this I swear.My life is yours."That brought a flicker of a smile to Kiva's face."Tell me, how did we fare in the recent battle?"The gray face clouded."Badly.Many Crinti fell to the Halruaans, some fled the dark fairies.Scouts gather the survivors.We return to Dambrath before the new moon."Kiva nodded as she took this in."The camp is near?""An hour's run, maybe two.I will take you there." Xerish broke into a long-legged trot.The elf easily fell into stride.When the conical mounts of the fairy hills came into sight, just a few paces away but shrouded in the rain and mist, Kiva fell back, gripping her knees and struggling for breath as if she had been winded by the run.The Crinti circled back, her face puzzled.Kiva abruptly straightened, flinging out one hand and hurling a bolt of black and crimson energy at the bandit.The magic missile struck Xerish in the chest and sent her hurtling toward one of the mounds.She hit hard, her arms thrown out wide.There she stuck like a bug to flypaper, too stunned to draw breath.Kiva took tools from her pack-a small hammer and four long, silver spikes.She ran at the stunned Crinti with the grim intent of a vampire hunter.Dull thuds resounded through the chilling rain as Kiva pounded the stakes through the woman's hands and ankles.Through it all, the magically trapped Xerish did not cry out.Crinti warriors did not acknowledge pain, but her strange blue eyes burned with bewilderment and betrayal.Kiva rose and began to walk widdershins around the mount, chanting as she went.Finally she came around, held her captive's accusing gaze, and slapped her hands sharply together.Magic flared like black lightning, and the Crinti woman was sucked abruptly into the mound.The elf waited expectantly as the dark spell ran its course.A life for a life-Kiva gladly doomed Xerish to the place Crinti feared more than death in exchange for a more useful being's freedom.Finally the crackling energy erupted into a second explosive burst.Kiva closed her eyes and turned her head away from the sudden, blinding flair.When she looked back, a wretched figure cowered at the base of the fairy mound."No," Kiva said flatly, staring in disbelief at her prize.The freed human was not Tzigone-was not even female! A Halruaan male crouched at Kiva's feet.His pale face bore a distinct resemblance to a hairless weasel, and his scant hair was plastered against his skull by sweat and blood.Shrieking with incoherent rage, Kiva kicked the wizard again and again.He merely curled up, his arms flung over his head, his thin form shaking with sobs.A familiar talisman flew from his hand.He lunged for it, wrapping the chain around each finger and clutching the trinket as if it were his only link to life and sanity.As, Kiva suspected, it truly had been."Dhamari Exchelsor," she said with loathing."Why is it that whenever a spell goes awry, Dhamari is not far away?"The weeping man suddenly went still.After a moment, he ventured a glance at his tormenter."Kiva?"There was a world of hope in that single word.Kiva grimaced.If Dhamari saw solace in her, he must be in very bad shape indeed!But Kiva was ever willing to improvise.She crouched beside the wizard, crooning silly, soothing words.He took the flask she handed him and drank, hesitantly at first, then with great thirst and greater need.Finally she took the flask from his hands."You are safe, Dhamari.I have brought you back."Kiva watched him slowly absorb this, watched as his eyes took focus and turned as hard as obsidian."Where is Keturah's bastard?"The ice in Dhamari's voice startled her.She sat back on her heels and regarded him.He returned her gaze without faltering, and for long moments Kiva stared into a mirror of her own soul."Hatred," she said approvingly."A thirst for vengeance.Where is the sniveling weasel I have known and loathed these many years?"The wizard took her taunting without flinching
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]