Bewitched & Betrayed
Page 52

That was entirely too likely. I knew from unpleasant experience that not all air was thin.
With Dad covering me, I bent to get a closer look at those drops. Goblin blood was slightly darker than the elven or human variety. Though in this light, I probably wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.
A body slammed into me from behind, knocking me to the floor, and putting us all in the dark. Keeping a lightglobe going took concentration, and right now all my effort was on skewering the man I was rolling around with while staying unskewered myself. My attacker was wiry and strong. A hand grabbed my wrist and slammed my knuckles hard into the floor, once, twice, three times. My fingers surrendered without asking me, and my sword clattered out of reach. Dad swore. He couldn’t stab anything without risking injury to me, so he spat a quick conjuring spell, and a flash of light flickered and quickly spun itself into a lightglobe. I twisted, catching my attacker with a sharp knee to the ribs. He grunted in pain and surprise, mostly pain.
I knew that grunt.
“Piaras?” I blurted.
The kid froze with his forearm against my throat. His expression was nothing short of stunned amazement.
“Nice attack,” I managed past his arm.
Piaras scrambled off of me until his back hit the far wall, dagger still clenched in his fist, amazement turned to fear. The kid looked scared to death.
“Don’t worry,” I quickly assured him. “No harm done.”
Scared turned to extreme caution. “I felt . . . I thought you were . . .” Piaras’s chest rose and fell with quick, shallow breaths.
The Saghred.
Dammit.
I sat up and straightened my doublet. “I stink like a soul-sucking rock, don’t I?” Battle-hardened Guardians didn’t want to be anywhere near me. What did I expect from a cadet, even if that cadet had known and trusted me for years?
Or used to trust me.
I got to my feet. “The Saghred’s the only way I can find Sarad Nukpana,” I explained. “It’s not controlling me; I’ve just loosened my hold a little so it can track him.”
Piaras was holding his dagger arm tightly to his chest. His tunic sleeve was slashed and bloody.
“You’re hurt.”
“It’s just a cut.”
“You’re bleeding.” I started toward him. “Let me—”
“Raine, no!” Instantly, Dad was between us.
Keeping me from touching Piaras.
A retort died on my lips. I knew why he’d done it. With sick realization, I knew.
I’d almost killed Piaras. I could have done worse than kill Piaras.
The Saghred had been quietly waiting. Knowing that to take care of that wound, I would have to touch Piaras, and if I touched even one drop of Piaras’s blood . . .
The Saghred would have taken him.
I was the walking Saghred. Piaras’s bleeding made him a sacrifice waiting to happen.
I backed against the far tunnel wall, into the dark where monsters belonged, my breathing ragged.
Piaras used his legs to push himself up, his back sliding against the wall while cradling his arm against his chest. “It’s only a cut,” I dimly heard him tell Dad.
Dad cut a strip of cloth from his own undertunic and used it to bandage Piaras’s arm. Mychael could have healed it, closed the wound, stopped the bleeding. But Mychael wasn’t here. Dad was. He’d been the Saghred’s Guardian and bond servant for centuries. He knew the danger. If he hadn’t dived under that door, I would have found Piaras and I would have . . .
“Thank you.” Horror at what nearly happened choked my words. “I’m so sorry, Piaras.”
His fear turned to confusion. “I don’t understand.”
He knew he didn’t want the Saghred touching him, but aside from a natural revulsion of the Saghred’s evil, he didn’t know why.
I told him.
When I’d finished, I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. “Good instincts, kid. You knew you were dealing with a killer.”
“You’re not a killer,” he said vehemently.
“But the rock is. And right now, we’re one and the same.” My throat constricted as I spoke. “You need to stay away from me.” I stared at my dad for a long hard moment. When I spoke, my words were clipped and hard. “Once Sarad Nukpana is dead, contained, confined, or whatever the hell it is I have to do to him—we’re going to find a way to separate me from this damned rock.”
Dad smiled with a baring of teeth. “Know it, Daughter.”
Piaras’s mouth fell open. “Daughter?”
Oh crap. That was the problem with secrets—remembering who not to tell.
With a pair of dead Khrynsani at our feet and probably more on the way here, there wasn’t time for the extended version. “It’s long and complicated, but yes, he’s my father. I’ll explain later. Have you seen Sarad Nukpana?”
Piaras managed to drag his eyes away from my dad. “Only a glimpse.”
“Was he solid?”
“Hard to tell; he was wearing a cloak.” Piaras glanced down at the dead goblins and looked a little pasty.
Dad shone his lightglobe on the bodies. One across the throat, the other through the heart.
“You killed them.” I didn’t ask it as a question. Piaras had every bit of Sarad Nukpana’s sword skills, and had obviously put them to lethal use.
“I had to; I had to get Talon out of there.”
Oh hell, Talon. “Where is he?”
Piaras pointed at the wall at my back. “In there. These two were guarding him.”
Dad laid his hand on the smooth granite. “Has to be a bunker.”
“Nukpana’s?” I asked.
Piaras shook his head. “He’s using it as a holding cell. They caught Talon before I could get to him. I followed them down here.”
“Why didn’t you go for help?”
“If I left, I’d never find it again. When the guards stepped away for a few moments, I tried using my dagger to mark the stone. It didn’t even make a scratch.” He looked at the flat stone in frustrated anger. “I couldn’t leave him—and I had to do something before Sarad Nukpana came for him. I was trying to come up with a plan when I . . . uh, sneezed.”
I winced. “That’ll get you noticed real quick.”
“I had to kill them.” Piaras’s words came out in a rush. “If I only knocked them out, they’d come to and go for help. I had to stop—”
“You did what you had to do,” I calmly finished for him.
“And you did a clean job of it,” Dad reassured him. “You did what a Guardian would have done. I know you don’t think it’s fine work, but it is.”
“Would throwing up also be fine work?”
“Not right now,” I told him. “See if you can’t hold off until we’re out of here, and I just might join you.” Goblins could see like cats in the dark. But there the goblins lay, unliving proof that Piaras had gotten the drop on them and made it count. “How did you hide?”
“Negating spell and a full-body veil,” Dad surmised without turning from his inspection of the stone wall.
Piaras blinked in surprise. “Yes, sir. How did you—”
“I’ve been a Guardian for a long time, Piaras. It’s the first thing they teach cadets. Don’t confront when you can hide.”
“Was Talon conscious when they locked him in?” I asked.
“Yes, and mad as hell.”
“How did the guards open the bunker?”
“I wasn’t close enough to see. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. If you’d been any closer, you’d probably be in there with Talon.” I quickly moved next to Dad. “See a way in?” The longer we stood here, the more likely we’d have company we didn’t want.
“I don’t sense a spell or ward, so it would have to be a talisman, keyed to this bunker.”
“Piaras, help Dad search the bodies,” I told him. “Since they’re dead, they probably don’t have anything the Saghred wants, but with all that blood, I can’t risk touching them.”
I hadn’t even finished speaking before Dad was kneeling next to one of the dead goblins and doing a highly professional job of pilfering the body: going through pouches, pockets, then taking his dagger and cutting the ties off the goblin’s leather armor to search through the layers.
Piaras searched the other one, doing what needed to be done, but trying not to think about what he was doing—stripping the body of a goblin he’d just killed. The first time Piaras had killed had been less than a month ago; it’d been self-defense. This had been the same thing. Almost. Piaras had kept himself concealed, plans running through his head because every option led to him doing exactly what he’d just done: kill two Khrynsani guards. He hadn’t wanted to do it, but it wouldn’t be the first time that an ill-timed sneeze had forced a man’s hand.
Piaras stood, a palm-sized metal square gleaming dully in his hand. “Could this be it?”
Dad took it from him, studying one side, then the other. “It looks old enough.” He shone his lightglobe slowly up the length of the wall.
“Wait,” I told him.
Dad stopped the globe.
“A few inches to the left.”
The globe moved and the shadowed dint in the stone revealed itself to be a shallow square, about a foot from the ceiling, easily reachable by a tall man. With the disk in his hand, Dad reached as high as he could go, then he stood on tiptoe.
“Dammit, my old body wasn’t this short.”
Piaras stepped forward. “Let me, sir.” He slipped the disk into the hollow, no tiptoeing needed. There was a click and the stone panel slid back.
I expected one big room. By no stretch of the imagination could this room be large enough to house fifty mages. If Mid had been under attack, I’d have taken my chances out in the tunnels. There were two doors on either side of the room, probably for storage. Though the first one on the left was storing one goblin teenager. A big clue was a hole cut into the door and set with iron bars. But the red cloud of a ward drifting restlessly in front of the door was the clincher. I guess the mages who’d built these bunkers had made provisions should they catch one of their attackers.