Spellwright Part 46

"Deirdre, I c-can't possibly-"

"The blade," she said nodding to the greatsword she had dropped. "Pick it up."

The cavern blazed brighter with Typhon's white light. Garkex bellowed as Typhon crushed the troll's chest with a blazing fist. The other night terrors were deconstructing as the light frayed their exterior sentences.

Nicodemus picked up the sword and stepped toward the brawl; he would rather die with a weapon in hand than hide in a corner.

"For pity's sake!" Deirdre pleaded. "Typhon corrupted my G.o.ddess. He led me to endanger Kyran. Don't let me live to serve the demon." Tears filled her eyes. "He will twist my will. He will make me one of them!"

Nicodemus could not move.

Before him Typhon leaped to his feet with a deafening roar. The demon tore apart Fael, the night terror lycanthrope. Oily blood now seeped from small wounds across the demon's head and chest. Only Tamelkan, the eyeless dragon, remained.

"Now!" Deirdre pleaded. "Nicodemus, before it is too late!"

Typhon lunged forward and caught the small dragon's head. With a quick twist of the torso the demon snapped the wyrm's neck and threw it aside.

Nicodemus raised his sword.

Typhon turned to him. "Nicodemus, stop. You will only harm yourself."

"Nicodemus!" Deirdre cried. "I beg you!"

Typhon shook his head. "I have chosen the two of you to beget a new race after the War of Disjunction. You are to know unparalleled happiness. You must survive together!"

"Please," Deirdre whispered. Her tear-bright face shone with torment and longing. Her trembling hand drew back her cloak to reveal the dirty white cloth above her left breast. "Save me if you bear me any love."

"No!" Typhon bellowed as Nicodemus thrust the rusted blade through Deirdre's heart.

DEIRDRE CONVULSED. Her hands came up to grasp the sword.

Typhon howled, a torrent of crimson blood spewing from his left breast. The demon fell to his knees, wings flapping wildly, arms trembling.

Deirdre collapsed into Nicodemus's arms. They sank slowly to the floor. She looked up at him, struggling for breath. He could barely see through his own tears.

Without warning, a ma.s.sive obsidian arm pulled them apart and tossed Nicodemus to the ground. Typhon lifted Deirdre up and pulled the sword from her chest. He hugged her close. "No!" she gasped. "No! Nicodemus, help! He's healing-"

The demon had dissolved into a dark cloud that was imbuing itself into Deirdre's body.

Confused relief flooded through Nicodemus. Deirdre wouldn't die after all. The demon's red and black wings now grew from her back. She held the greatsword in one hand.

Nicodemus struggled to his feet and grabbed her arm. Touching her sent a shock through his body and filled his mind with a vision of Deirdre as a girl running through a field of heather. He saw her holding a child. Then he was back in the present. She was holding him. Her once green eyes were now black as onyx.

She began to whisper, not with her own voice, but with Typhon's rumbling one. "Lord Severn, April, James Berr," she whispered. "You've always been mine. The next dragon will make you mine again."

Nicodemus opened his mouth but could not speak.

"Kill the beast!" a woman's voice bellowed as a Magnus wartext shot over Deirdre's head. Suddenly Magistra Okeke and two sentinels rushed into the cavern casting violent language at Deirdre.

The sentinels must have magically spanned the distance from the fractured Spindle Tunnel to the cavern.

With a shove, Deirdre sent Nicodemus flying to slam against the cavern wall. Everything disappeared for a moment. Then he was slouched on the floor.

Deirdre leveled her greatsword at the sentinels. With blinding speed, she dodged around the spells to charge the black-robes. The first she slashed across the chest, the second across the throat. But when she lunged for Magistra Okeke, the woman leaped back in time to avoid the blade.

Another silver spell flashed through the cavern and knocked the sword from Deirdre's hands. One of the sentinels remaining in the Spindle had renewed the attack.

With a cry, Deirdre ran for the cavern's entrance. Nicodemus struggled to his feet in time to see her leap out into the tunnel.

He ran forward and saw her drop out of the tunnel's decimated floor and spread her wings.

She was too heavy to fly, but by flapping hard she turned south and began a slow descent to the forest. Occasionally her arms swung out with the effort. Once, before she had fallen too far, Nicodemus glimpsed in her hand the small, glinting emerald.

CHAPTER Forty-five

Nicodemus watched until Deirdre disappeared into the forest far below. The wind set his long black hair fluttering. The cold autumn night smelled of coming rain.

"She will survive the demon," a soft voice said behind him.

Nicodemus turned to see a short, transparent figure that at first seemed to be a ghost. She stared at him with lapis eyes and pressed her wide lips into a solemn line. Her hair was not hair at all but a slow, white torrent: a miniature white river that tumbled down her back to splash against her ankles. Thick green robes floated all about her as if underwater.

"Boann," Nicodemus said with a nod and a backward step.

"What is left of her," the figure said, returning the nod. "I have escaped the prison Typhon made for me in my own ark, but I am now too weak to manifest myself physically."

"Can you save Deirdre?" Nicodemus asked, taking another step away.

The G.o.ddess looked past him to the forest in which Deirdre had vanished.

"No." She studied Nicodemus. "But one day you might. I have watched you, Nicodemus Weal. And when Deirdre touched the ark, I learned all that she knew. I would swear on the Creator's name to protect and help you in your struggle against the demons. Do you know what that means? For a deity to swear on the Creator's name?"

Nicodemus had been backing away. Now he stopped. "It means you would be bound to your oath, that you could never break it."

The young G.o.ddess nodded and held out her transparent hand. "Will you exchange oaths? I will pledge myself to you if you pledge yourself to freeing Deirdre."

Nicodemus studied the G.o.ddess. Deities sometimes swore fealty to each other, but never to mortals. "Why would you offer such a thing? Being human, I could break my vow; you could not."

Boann's hand did not waver. "I am little more than a wraith now, unable to affect the physical world. I will remain so until reunited with Deirdre.Unless you take me under your protection, Typhon's followers will find me and tear me apart."

Her voice grew urgent. "If you refuse, Deirdre will languish under the demon's control. It is only through you that I might regain her."

"Then I accept," Nicodemus said firmly. Together they kneeled and swore on the Creator's name-he to rescue Deirdre, she to protect and serve him.

Slowly they stood. She nodded and sent her waterfall-hair cascading over her shoulders. "The human deities resisting Typhon call themselves The Alliance of Divine Heretics. My mother, the rain G.o.ddess Sian, is a Heretic. Long ago I sought to join the Alliance, but they declined. They felt my political involvement in the Highlands made me too visible to the demon-wors.h.i.+pers."

The G.o.ddess sighed. "And it seems they were right. My scheming somehow alerted Typhon of my connection to the Alliance. He sought to infect me in hopes of gaining a spy among his enemies. But Fellwroth attacked him during the infection, and so the demon won control of my ark but never of me. In time, he learned to manipulate Deirdre, though she fought him with all her will."

Boann shook her head. "Because of Deirdre's strength, and yours, Fellwroth failed to replace Typhon as the leader of the Disjunction. But now the demon is free again. If you accept my guidance, Nicodemus, I will help you convince the Alliance that we can help fight the Disjunction. Will you accept my counsel?"

Nicodemus looked around the dark cavern. Nothing moved. In the other direction there was open air and distant Starhaven. Sparks of gold and silver glinted in the Spindle. Some of Magistra Okeke's sentinels had survived.

"G.o.ddess, I will," he said. "I find myself without allies or direction."

A half-smile spread across Boann's lips.

Nicodemus's heart ached. For a moment, she seemed the very image of Deirdre.

The G.o.ddess nodded. "It won't be easy. The Alliance deities, even my own mother, will distrust me now that Typhon has invaded my ark. Worse, the Alliance has already bred a Language Prime spellwright, your half-sister. Now that Fellwroth has loosed a dragon on Trillinon, they know the Disjunction also has a Language Prime spellwright. Even now they are sending out hunting parties to a.s.sa.s.sinate you, Nicodemus. Our task is to convince them that you can aid the fight against the Disjunction despite your...cacography."

Nausea filled Nicodemus. He was again a Storm Petrel-a champion of error in language, unable to touch another living being without misspelling the living language inside it.

He closed his eyes and imagined the emerald. He pictured his determination to end his disability as light falling into the gem.

"Come, Nicodemus," Boann said, turning back toward the cavern. "We must see to your teacher."

"Shannon!" Nicodemus exclaimed. "Is he-"

"He lives." She pointed to the old man lying on his back. "I disspelled the text the demon put around his mind. And I hid his bird during the fight."

Azure was next to Shannon, nervously preening the old man's silvery dreadlocks. Boann reached down and pressed a transparent forefinger to the grand wizard's head. His white eyes opened. "Nicodemus?" he said.

"Here, Magister," Nicodemus said, kneeling beside him.

The wizard sat up and moved as if to take his pupil's hand.

Nicodemus flinched. "You can't touch me, Magister. I would misspell your Language Prime texts."

The old linguist pressed a hand to his temple. "What happened? My..." Azure climbed up the wizard's sleeve to perch on his shoulder.

Boann stood and spoke loudly, as if addressing an unseen audience. "Nicodemus Weal has defeated the creature Fellwroth. He has discovered his ident.i.ty as a true heir of the ancient Imperial family. He has learned the truth about the prophecies. He may possess the powers of the Storm Petrel, but he is not predestined to serve the Disjunction. I, the river G.o.ddess Boann, have pledged myself to aid his struggle against the demon Typhon."

Though troubled by the G.o.ddess's sudden formality, Nicodemus was relieved to see that Shannon's nose and shoulder wounds had stopped bleeding. The old man was making cooing sounds to Azure as he struggled to his feet.

"Nicodemus," Boann whispered. "Behind you lies the Index."

Nicodemus retrieved the book.

The G.o.ddess faced the dark cavern. "How much of that did you overhear, sentinel?"

Out from the shadows stepped Magistra Amadi Okeke. A bruise was swelling up on her pale forehead. "All of it, G.o.ddess."

Boann glared at the woman with crystalline eyes. "Then you realize, Magistra, that Nicodemus is not a destroyer?"

Amadi's eyes widened. "Forgive me, G.o.ddess. My understanding of prophecy is imperfect. When I take Nicodemus back to Starhaven, I will explain all that I have seen."

Boann laughed. "Nicodemus cannot return; you kindled the fire of counter-prophecy. The wizards now fear him too much." The G.o.ddess's eyes shone brighter.

Amadi stepped backward. "But G.o.ddess, I-"

"You must undo the damage you have done. You will return to Starhaven and report all that has happened here. But you will not seek to correct the Erasmine Prophecy or the counter-prophecy. Rather, you will become our agent within the Numinous Order."

Amadi took a deep breath. "G.o.ddess, no one will believe me. I must have Nicodemus and you to confirm what I have seen."

Boann tossed her long river-hair and sent a waterfall splas.h.i.+ng down her back. "Fellwroth's body will be your evidence. You will say nothing of Deirdre. But you will report that Nicodemus and Shannon died when fighting Typhon. Say the demon threw them out of the Spindle; that will explain why their bodies won't be found. Hopefully that will stop the sentinels from pursuing us, at least for a while."

Amadi looked back at Fellwroth's body and then nodded. "As you say, G.o.ddess."

"Magistra Okeke," Nicodemus said slowly, "what can you tell me of the cacographer Simple John? Does he live?"

The sentinel frowned. "He does. He was the one who brought me here. We left him on the Spindle Bridge's landing."

Nicodemus let out a relieved breath. "The wizards must not know what Typhon did to him."

Amadi narrowed her eyes. "And what was that?"

After describing how Typhon's G.o.dspell had crippled John's mind, Nicodemus looked into Amadi's eyes and said, "If the wizards found out, they would suspect him of still being under the demon's sway."

"I understand, Nicodemus," said Amadi, pus.h.i.+ng a dreadlock from her pale face. "I honor what the man did to bring me here. I will keep his secret."

Nicodemus considered her impa.s.sive expression, then nodded. "Thank you, Magistra." He bowed his head. "Will you tell John I am sorry-"

"Nicodemus," Boann interrupted gently. "John, like everyone else, must believe that you and Shannon have died."

Nicodemus started to object, but then he saw Shannon. The old man stood just behind the G.o.ddess, holding Azure. The grand wizard was shaking his head.

"Very well," said Nicodemus, and bowed again to Amadi. "Thank you, Magistra."

The sentinel's dour gaze softened. She pointed out into the night. "I can see more spellwriting. The other wizards will be here soon."

Nicodemus saw golden light in the Spindle's remains. The sentinel was right.

"It is time to be gone," the G.o.ddess announced. "Nicodemus, you must carry what is left of my ark." She gestured farther into the mountain.

Nicodemus saw that the formerly ma.s.sive standing stone had crumbled. Most of it had become dust, but a single chunk of rock, not bigger than a cat, remained. He went to the now miniature ark and lifted it into his arms. Three undulating lines were carved down its length.

When Boann spoke again her voice became soft, almost sing-song. "Come, Nicodemus, Shannon, we travel into the mountains, into the kobold caves. I know the way to a private haven. There we shall heal and make ready to rescue Deirdre and recover the emerald."