Bewitched & Betrayed
Page 50

And if he’d fully assimilated the strength and skill Rudra Muralin had absorbed from years of wielding the Saghred, there was only one person who could kill him now.
Me.
And I would have to use the Saghred to do it.
I wasn’t only here as a seeker; I was here as a weapon.
Yeah, “shit” definitely described how I felt.
The transit tunnels were well lit—for the most part. As with all ways to get from one place to another, whether be it alley, street, or tunnel, some were used more than others and kept in better repair. And when you were talking about a man-made tunnel, better repair often meant lighting that actually worked. There were long patches of dark down here, way too long, and way too dark. To make matters worse, it turned out that the magical distortion was just as bad down here as it was on the surface. Mages had been using these tunnels and working magic in the buildings above for centuries—and all that magical residue had seeped into the ground and the tunnel walls.
Mychael drew his sword, barked a word I didn’t recognize, and the glow from his blade cut through the dark for twenty yards in every direction. A few seconds later, it kept me from turning my dad or Vidor Kalta into pincushions when they came around the next corner.
I lowered my throwing daggers. “Why the hell aren’t you using a lightglobe?” My hands were shaking, so I gripped the knives harder.
Dad continued toward us like he and Kalta were just out for a stroll. “You’re more likely to find things that prefer the dark when you’re sharing the dark with them.”
“Logical, yet suicidal,” Vegard muttered from beside me.
“Can you work down here?” Dad asked me quietly.
“I’m getting nothing,” I spat.
“Mychael, we need to get out of the main tunnels,” Dad told him. “Sarad isn’t in any tunnel that a mage has walked recently.”
“My men are covering them all.”
“And they won’t find Sarad. Hopefully they will find the boys or Tam Nathrach—but they won’t find Sarad.”
I tried to see into the darkness behind him. “If you know where he is—”
“I know the only place he can be. What you saw when you touched the seat in that coach confirms it. You saw an open doorway with light coming from inside. The bunkers.”
Mychael frowned. “What?”
“In case the island ever came under attack, there were twenty bunkers built behind these tunnel walls. Each bunker could accommodate fifty men, not comfortably, but there’d be room.”
As if a hundred miles of tunnels weren’t enough. “Where are they?”
“Mid was never attacked, so they were never used,” Dad told me. “And for security purposes, only the Seat of Twelve knew where they were.”
I felt sick. “So Carnades knows, and we have to ask—”
“No, Raine. The Seat of Twelve from the time when the bunkers were built back in my cadet days.”
Over nine hundred years ago.
Mychael picked up my thoughts and scowled. “They’re not on the maps.”
Mychael and Justinius had looked at a map of the tunnels just before we’d come down here. An intersecting mess of granite walls.
“Nothing was written down,” Dad confirmed. “Only committed to memory. Since there was never an attack, the bunkers were never used, and the mages died and took the location to their graves with them.”
“And this helps us how?”
“Raine, no man down here can find Sarad’s bunker.”
I knew what he was saying and I didn’t like it. Not only did I not like it; it scared the crap out of me.
“I can find it, but only if I let the Saghred loose.”
“You can still feel the Saghred’s hunger, can’t you?”
Oh yeah, I could feel it, like I was being gnawed from the inside out. I didn’t have to say it; my dad knew. He’d been the Saghred’s bond servant for centuries; he knew the hunger.
The temptations.
“The Saghred wants what it has lost,” he said quietly. “Sarad has consumed two of the other mages who were imprisoned in the stone with him. The Saghred exists beyond magic; the distortions won’t affect it.” He hesitated. “If you let it go, it will lead you to Sarad.”
I didn’t want to let the rock go or run into Sarad Nukpana in the dark. If I let the Saghred go in tunnels full of Guardians seething with magic, the rock might try to take a pre- Nukpana snack, and it would start with the men around me: Mychael, Dad, Vegard, Vidor. And I might not get control over it again.
I might not get control over myself again.
The only sound was my ragged breathing echoing against the granite walls. I did not want to do this. I so did not want to do this.
“And you’re not going to.” Mychael’s voice said no argument. His mind knew there was no other way—and he still wasn’t going to let me risk myself.
Piaras and Talon were down here somewhere, maybe captive in that bunker with Sarad Nukpana and Janos Ghalfari.
Tam was down here.
I had no choice. Time to let the monster off its leash.
Dad said Sarad Nukpana would keep to the dark, but that didn’t mean we had to. Mychael and Vegard lit any dark stretch of tunnel bright as day. Their light came from behind me.
Way behind me.
Following the Saghred’s lead was one thing; ignoring the sheer collective power of the men behind me was quite another. And quite impossible. In addition to his power, I felt Mychael’s need to protect me just as strongly as his magic. Both were interfering with what I needed to do through the Saghred.
Touch, hear, see, smell, and taste evil.
My senses were running wide-open. The Saghred was telling me which way to go, when to turn, when to pause and let the air flow over me, and then change direction. The rock was like a tiger by my side, stalking its prey in complete silence, quietly confident that it would soon feed. It didn’t try to take over and make me go on a killing spree. It wanted a killing spree of one goblin.
For now.
I walked on the very edge of the light, close enough that Mychael could still see me, far enough that in front of me was nothing but dark emptiness with an occasional dim blue glow of a lightglobe set into the ceiling. Twice, a quartet of Guardians saw me and started to approach, then quickly changed direction. I didn’t need to be told why. I wasn’t the only one who could sense the Saghred on the prowl. No doubt to them, I was the Saghred and I was hunting. They didn’t want to cross my path. I didn’t blame them.
I was scared of me, too.
I kept moving toward the next intersection, tempted to walk faster to get there quicker. This intersection was well lit, the lightglobes actually working like they were supposed to. Well, at least the tunnel to the left was lit, flooding its light in the other three directions. I already knew I hated tunnels. But I really liked light; I never realized how much I liked light. The Saghred told me to turn left. About damned time the rock told me to do something I wanted to do.
Except I didn’t do it, not yet. I stopped in the middle of the intersection, facing left, just standing there looking down the tunnel. It was long, straight, well lit, and completely clear. Inviting even. No evil goblins down here, it seemed to say. I wasn’t buying it. I held up a hand, telling Mychael and the others to stop. Yes, that was where the Saghred wanted me to go, and yes, it was so well lit it was downright cheerful. But “listen before you leap” had never been a bad rule for me. Paranoia was even better. You might even say they were words to live by—or stay alive by.
I wanted to find Sarad Nukpana.
I didn’t want Sarad Nukpana to find me first.
I didn’t smell or sense the goblin, and the Saghred wasn’t all aquiver.
“Ma’am, stop,” Vegard said.
I jumped and my sword was halfway out of its scabbard.
“Ma’am, it’s okay,” he quickly added. “The boss is getting reports from the contact wizards. He needs for you to wait.”
I relaxed. A little. At least enough to let my goblin blade slide back into its scabbard across my back.
It wouldn’t hurt to wait. The happy tunnel would still be there, and if one of Mychael’s patrols had found something, my search might be over, or at least focused in another direction.
Dad walked toward me and stopped about twenty feet away. “Is it okay if I talk to you?”
I nodded once. My breath trembled a little when I let it out. I tried a smile; I didn’t think it quite made it. “My nerves are shot. A little small talk might keep me from crawling out of my own skin. Or is this one of those father/daughter talks where you tell me not to play in dark corners with goblin boys?”
He came to stand by my side. “I wish you didn’t have to.”
“It’s not my idea of a fun date.”
“Raine, your job is to locate Sarad Nukpana. Please promise me that you’ll only confront him directly as a last resort.”
“Isn’t that what I’m down here for?” I snapped. “Confront and kill?” I glanced up at the stone ceiling and tried to force myself to relax. “Sorry. That came out sharp, didn’t it?”
A hint of a smile curled his lips. “It did, but you’re entitled.” What little smile there was vanished. “Sarad Nukpana has the souls of Rudra Muralin and two other goblin black mages inside of him now.” He paused and swallowed. “Raine, inside the Saghred’s like the inside of a prison; you hear things about other inmates. Sarad cultivated those two as allies because of their skill and strength, and their sadistic eagerness to use both. If you and the Saghred had been working together for years—”
“Like it did with Rudra Muralin,” I said, my tone flat.
“Yes, like Rudra. If you were that close to the stone, bonded so tightly that your will was instantly its command—then you might stand a chance of surviving an encounter with Sarad Nukpana as he is now.”
“Dad, if this is your idea of a pep talk, you need to work on your delivery.”