The Palace Job (50 page)

"No!" The cry escaped from Icy with a force that surprised them all. "Loch, we cannot—"

"Patience, Indomitable." Loch turned to Kail. "Captured?"

Kail nodded. Now that he was with them, the energy that had gotten him here seemed to drain away, and he sagged where he stood. His hands were shaking as he explained what had happened, and Loch seemed more worried by that than by what Kail was saying, the way she looked at his shaking hands and twitching fingers.

The guards had come upon them. Tern had been knocked out, and Desidora had drawn the guards to her. "The security guy used something to knock her out," he finished, "and I ran. No way to save them."

"Of course there is. You did just what you were supposed to do, Kail." She leaned in and took his trembling hands. "You did just right."

"What happens now, Miss Loch?" Dairy asked. "Mister Hessler, and Miss Tern, and... what happens now?"

"You remember I told you about the difference between
should
and
is?"
she asked, and Dairy nodded. "We
should
get a whole heaping lot of money for what we did tonight. But we
are
going to trade this book..." She held it up. "...for a tiny little bit of money and the freedom of our friends. The elf you contacted, Ululenia. He can get them out?"

Ululenia nodded. "Of course, Little One. If anyone can do it, the elves can. The wards of the ancients are like their own hearts' blood, and for one of their manuscripts—"

"Good." She turned to Kail. "Ululenia already contacted the elf. The deal is set for tomorrow before dawn, in the same park we arrived in. Go spend the night as you will, everyone. Have a few drinks at any tavern that's still open, or just get some sleep." She stared hard at Ululenia.
"Just
sleep."

Ululenia turned away. "I have no heart for celebration this night, Little One."

"We will soon enough." Loch waved grandly. "Go. n see you all at the park an hour before dawn." She touched Kail on the shoulder. "We'll save them all."

And with that, she walked off into the night.

Archvoyant Silestin looked at the two women strapped to Security Chief Elkinsair's devices.

"That's them." The Archvoyant grinned. "Funny how things change,
Priestess."

They were both strapped to moveable tables shaped like "X"s, their arms and legs bound wide apart. Thick leather straps made movement impossible, and bands across their throats made even breathing difficult.

"You are trafficking with a creature the gods have sent me
personally
to destroy, Silestin." Desidora met his gaze squarely. "If you care about the fate of all creation, much less your mortal soul—"

"You said she felt like one of Ael-meseth's," Silestin said to Elkinsair.

"A death priestess," Elkinsair explained. "Formerly a love priestess. Her latent ability to affect auras has been greatly enhanced." He frowned. "That's likely how they breached the vault."

"Makes sense." Silestin smiled up at Tern, who was stripped to her shift. "Do whatever you want to the tinker."

"Son of a bitch!"

"Make certain the priestess lives at least until I return. I might need another playing card." He clapped Elkinsair on the shoulder and left.

Elkinsair waited until Silestin was gone, and then he did a little capering dance, shrugging out of his robe so that his horn shone. Tern's knowledge of satyrs was heavily influenced by
jokes
about satyrs, and a quick application of what she knew to the fact that his horn was located, as Icy would have said, about five chakras down from Ululenia's, gave her a couple of guesses.

"Ah,
finally,"
Elkinsair murmured as he removed a crude silver amulet. His horn blazed even brighter. "Had to wear this old thing to mask my aura from that dreadful Mirrkir. He has some dreadfully backward ideas about my people. But since you've killed him, I'm free to..." He looked over at Tern and raised an eyebrow. "...be myself."

Tern began to struggle.

"Don't bother, little mouse." Elkinsair fixed her with a ruddy grin. "As deaths go, heart failure from sheer pleasure is enviable. You'd thank me before it was over.
But..."
He turned to Desidora. "...the mouse will live... at least, as far as I am concerned."

Tern tried to relax. "See, that
sounds
reassuring, until that clause on the end."

"I must be honest, Priestess," Elkinsair said with a self-deprecating laugh. "This is something of a dream come true for me."

"You have some messed-up dreams," Desidora said without inflection.

"I've heard of death priestesses, but to actually
meet
one..." Elkinsair smiled. "Don't be coy, Priestess. Try your full power on me. Wrench my soul from my body."

"I traveled with a unicorn," Desidora said coldly. "We both know that my magic won't affect you."

"So why do I taunt you?" Elkinsair asked with a tittering laugh. "It's quite simple, Priestess... and it's to your advantage." He slid his gaze to Tern. "Though not hers."

"See, again, reassuring
right up until the end."

"If you know what I am," Desidora said evenly, "then you know that it goes against the will of the gods to stand against me."

Elkinsair laughed again. This time, the delicate little titter grew into a wrenching, inhuman cackle that had Elkinsair's eyes watering while he pounded on the walls.

"Satyrs don't care about the will of the gods?" Desidora asked as his cackles finally died down.

Elkinsair fixed her with a glassy-eyed stare. "Oh, my poor dear, I care deeply for the will of the gods. Even if I didn't, I'd be a fool to stand in their way." He shook his head wistfully. "No, precious priestess, my amusement comes from you... that you think the gods have destined you to succeed."

"They granted me these powers." Desidora kept her gaze level. "They came to me in my dreams and told me their will."

"And when you were a
love
priestess and you wished to bring two young lovers together, I'm
certain
that you told your charges the truth about what they should do." He let out a fond sigh as Desidora flushed. "My dear, you are a bolt fired from a divine crossbow. You might
think
you were aimed at the enemy's heart, but it's far more likely that you were fired as a diversion so that their
real
blow can strike true." He sneered. "A
love
priestess? Against one of the
Glimmering Folk?
Really."

"She's cut through every security ward
you
put in place," Tern fired back.

Elkinsair nodded. "Yes. This death magic of hers... it's fascinating. Which is why I'm willing to go against Silestin himself... to let you walk free, Priestess."

Desidora's eyes narrowed. "I'm listening."

"The lock binding your right arm is magical, warded by layers of abjuration." Elkinsair leaned in. "If you use your clever aura-magic on it, it will render you unconscious and alert me to your attempts." He smiled, running one finger along her bonds. "But there's a weakness. The lock is set to automatically release five minutes after the prisoner dies, to simplify removal of the body."

"You've out-thought yourself." Desidora shut her eyes. "My magic won't let me transcend death. Not in that way, at least."

"Don't worry." Elkinsair tugged the strap across Desidora's chest a little tighter, then leaned in to whisper. "It's keyed to the tinker's table." He glanced at Tern, then broke into a broad grin as her face went pale. "Ah, she understands. Clever tinker."

"I'll kill you," Desidora said, heaving up, her face going red with exertion. "I'll get loose, and I will
end
you, satyr!"

"It is a question," Elkinsair said quietly, "of faith. If you believe so firmly in your cause, then sacrificing a friend should be worth it. You can walk out of this room, free to continue your quest, and I will have a clear recording of your magic to use in my studies. If you do not..." He shrugged. "Fail to escape, and I shall gain my data about your death-magic through
significantly
less pleasant means."

"Don't waste your time," Tern said confidently. "I'm seventy or eighty percent sure that she wouldn't even
consider
falling for such an obvious ploy!"

"I'll leave you two ladies alone." Elkinsair smiled absently. "I must go attend to Prisoner Ghylspwr, now. I have some
very
exciting experiments in mind for him as well."

He walked out, and the clanging of the interrogation-room door was the only sound he heard behind him.

Everyone who'd made it was there in the gray pre-dawn light.

Loch had ditched the sleek evening gown and come up with tan leathers that were suitable for riding, hiking, fighting, or running as the case demanded. Kail looked tired and forewent his usual quips. Ululenia and Dairy both looked nervous. Icy appeared calm as always, and his robe was clean and pressed.

The steel-gray sky was cold and clear as Loch led them back through the side streets to the little park one last time. The soft clump of her boots on the false cobblestones that lined the city no longer sounded strange in her ears.

She sent Kail out ahead when they reached the last few streets, and he came back a few minutes later to report that the elven ship had arrived. Loch nodded, waved briefly, said a quiet prayer for the captured and the dead, and motioned them forward.

The sound of clopping hooves surprised her, and she turned to see that Ululenia had assumed her natural form, and Dairy was astride her.
It may prove to the elf that our intentions are pure,
she said.

Once through the line of trees, there was nothing beyond but the lawn and then the rim itself, and the city was just a skyline behind them, dark shapes fading into the cold morning mist. The wet grass squelched as Loch and the others tromped through the garden.

At the edge of the rim, a new tree had grown overnight.

As Loch drew closer, the great leaves resolved into dozens of rich green sails that shone even in the wan light, and the trunk became a great twisted mast, and the massive bunching roots became the body of the living ship itself, which had pierced the wards of Heaven's Spire and now rested a great root over the garden's safety rail as an organic gangplank.

At the foot of the gangplank, standing in the mist in a posture of perfect serenity, a tall cloaked figure waited. The others fell in behind Loch as they drew close, so that she was the point of the wedge approaching the elf. His cloak shimmered, blue and green and gray flickering across its surface like a waterfall on a cloudless day. His arms were crossed, the hands tucked into the opposite sleeve like a monk's posture in walking prayer.

"Isti ciel'ur, ufa eurufuir'isti,"
Loch said with a polite bow. The elf nodded, his features still a mystery beneath the cloak. Loch had heard stories, but even her father had never met one of the sylvan folk in person.

Since she didn't speak any more of the ancient language, she switched to Darish. "By the sun and stars, this book was given freely to the blood of my blood. I offer freely to return it to its creators." She'd gone over this with Ululenia back at Cevirt's, combining the unicorn's knowledge with what Loch remembered her father telling her.

The elf was still a long moment. Then one hand swung free of the other and waved her forward. Loch stepped forward slowly, withdrew the book from the leather bag she carried it in, and handed it to the elf. He held it up to his cloaked face with slow reverence.

Then he said, "Never could read this gibberish," and struck Loch with a savage backhand.

An uppercut slammed into her gut before she got her balance back, and then a right cross slammed her to the ground. There were shouts behind her, and the sound of drawn steel.

"I have to tell you," said Archvoyant Silestin, shrugging out of the shimmering cloak and tossing it and the book to the ground, "that I am awfully impressed, young lady." He was dressed in his formal military uniform, his jacket set with medals and his dress sword at his waist.