Part 12 (1/2)
”Sorry, old man, would you repeat the question?”
”The magical source by the bell tower. The wizard. I want that person tracked down before sunset. I've told you to do that, why isn't it done?”
”Yes, I remember, but the captain of my house guard is the only one I can trust for such a task and he's not back from . . .”
Botello exploded again. The wordidiot dominated the outburst. ”You didn't hear a d.a.m.ned word I said!
I told you to see to itpersonally !”
”You did not. I distinctly recall you wanted me to make sure the person was swayed to our side. You never said anything aboutmy going to look into it. In fact, I got the impression you preferred me close bythe mirror in case you needed to talk. Certainly if I'd known you wanted me out and about I'd have done so ages ago-”
Another crash of pain. This time Cadmus cried aloud. He lay still for a much longer period. Various fragments of thoughts came drifting to him, the largest being that he wasn't getting paid nearly enough for this abuse. He was a clan lord, dammit, one of the oldest houses in the province with heaps of honors ama.s.sed by his ancestors. Why shouldhe have to put up with being treated like some inferior servant's dogsbody?
Grimly, he choked on the fact that he had no choice in the matter anymore. Botello owned him. Not completely, but nearly so because of his a.s.sistance in his experiments. Gawds, if anyone found out, he'd be ruined.
Cadmus had thought it a lark, just a harmless bit of fiddle faddle and an excuse to visit Darmo House and feast his eyes on Filima during dinner. By the time he understood that all the castings performed in the cellar were for a more sinister purpose than improving scrying skills, it was too late. He should have known better, he really should. There were plenty of cautionary tales about that sort of thing, but Cadmus had never been much for reading, and the money had been right there on the table, enough to keep his tottering household going for months.
Too late now.
”Wake up, Cadmus, I know you're not that hurt.”
He groaned, pus.h.i.+ng himself away again. ”What? What do you want?”
”The wizard. I felt him, I still feel him. He's like a great bonfire of power.”
”You're sure it's a man?”
”Yes, I am now. He's so powerful his energy is coming through even during the day. That's why I tried manifesting this soon. There was enough to bring me through, but the flow was cut. He must have gone to ground in a s.h.i.+elded area. I had to take from Filima. The stupid b.i.t.c.h has power, but not nearly what's needed for the job.”
Cadmus shut his eyes a moment to hide any reaction he might give about the name-calling. Botello's att.i.tude toward his widow had gone very sour in the last two weeks. Being in h.e.l.l might account for his constant bad mood, but he was quite over the top whenever she came into the conversation. ”Then you shouldn't have to bother her in the future.”
”I'll do whatever I please with her!”
”Yes, of course. I'm sure she'll be delighted to see you again once you've solved this bodily displacement thing. I was wondering . . . why were you trying to come throughher mirror? Wouldn't it make more sense to come through mine? Itis larger, you know, less of a squeeze for you.”
”The doorway size doesn't matter, it's the power. The aetheric structures I set up at Darmo House are still in place and tuned to me. I should have manifested in my work-chamber, but the mirror there is broken. Hers is the closest in proximity to it. It was my bad luck she happened to see me coming through, but good luck so she could provide a boost. Ifyou'd just held out a moment longer . . .” Cadmus had held as long as he could. He'd made an honest effort. It rankled that his hard work went unappreciated. ”Her mirror might be broken now. That cat fellow did some mischief, I warrant.”
”Then find out who he is. I never heard her talk of any clowns in cat masks in that traveling troupe she danced with. Maybe he's an old lover sniffing after her money.My money. Find him and tell me what's going on over there, but get to that wizardimmediately !” Botello's distorted image in the mirror went black as he cut their link.
Blinking, Cadmus woke up a lot more. d.a.m.nation, if anyone was ent.i.tled to Filima's money it was himself. He'd put significant labor into his pursuit of her; time to start forging ahead in earnest. Gawd knows he was more Filima's type than some scruffy entertainer hiding under a cat's mummery. Maybe the fellow was covered in warts or had a horrible skin condition. If he didn't now, he soon would. Cadmus had a spell for that lying around somewhere in the house. . . .
Of course Botello was something of a snag in the marriage stratagem. Cadmus had been reasonably sure Botello would stay bodily displaced, since in the history of known magic-not to mention ordinary life and death history-no one had ever escaped h.e.l.l before. Displaced or truly dead, he should have been there for keeps, but he'd somehow set up a route out that might work for him, providing he had enough power. Even the h.e.l.l-river was insufficient to the task, but this new wizard might upset the applecart in a bad way.
Perhaps . . . if he were taken out of the picture. Botello would be none too pleased losing a power source to feed from, but to h.e.l.l with him. Literally.
Cadmus did not relish violence, but, as a necessary means to an end, was confident he could inflict it.
The means was easy enough: most magical Talents were highly allergic to cold iron-especially in the form of a blade-thrust to the heart. Hmm. Yes. There were possibilities in that. Cadmus rose from his chair and escaped his scrying chamber, fresh purpose lending him new energy and nerve. Now where the devil had the butler hidden all the dueling weapons?
Elsewhere in Rumpock, at Overduke Anton's Palace Anton writhed in a death-struggle with the bedclothes. His body ran with sweat, eyes rolled up in their sockets, limbs thras.h.i.+ng. He fought to wake himself from the dream, the nightmare, groaning like a dying man.
Someone had hold of his shoulders, shaking him hard.
”Come on, honey, come out of it!”
Velma. Sweet, sensible Velma. He managed to open his eyelids enough to glimpse her concerned face, which was very close to his.
”That's it, stay right here with me,” she said. ”You're safe.”
His body relaxed as he gratefully exchanged illusion for reality. ”Oh, gawds.”
”You said it, honey.” She lay next to him, arms cuddling him tight. He liked that, reaching for her, holding her desperately hard.
”Oof! Easy, now, I'm breakable at this angle.” She s.h.i.+fted to a more comfortable position with his head on her bare shoulder, settling in to stroke his brows and hair.
He breathed deeply of her flower perfume, trying to will away the lingering shreds of his latest dream.
”Must have been a bad one,” Velma commented after awhile. ”I've never seen you like that before.
Scary. I've got an uncle who has those kinds of fits, but only after he's been in a tavern for a week.”
Anton grunted. ”The price of my Talent. They've been getting worse. It's that d.a.m.ned river.”
”I know. What was this one about?”
He shook his head. He didn't like to share the really bad ones with her. She didn't need the burden.
”Oh, come on, honey. If you aren't gonna see a doctor about them you need to talk to somebody. Might as well be me.”
After a time he sighed, picking one of the lesser visions to relate. ”I saw something trying to break through from another world. There was a black room and a table with a hole in it, but instead of a floor showing under the table it was a doorway, a tunnel. A creature was coming through.”
”What kind of creature?”
”A h.e.l.l-being. Huge. There was smoke and clouds obscuring things, but I saw its eyes, heard its voice, a horrible squalling shriek, like all the souls that ever died crying in torment at once. It was reaching toward me. All I could do was watch. Couldn't run or fight.”
”No wonder you got into such a state, and in the middle of the day, too.”
That troubled Anton, as well. Usually his nastier dreams took place at night when the veils between the worlds were thin. He'd hoped to catch up on his sleep with a nice afternoon nap-after a little healthy leisure fun with Velma. She'd enthusiastically helped tire him out, but not enough to dispel the visions.
”I think . . .” he said, ”I think it's going to get worse. Soon.”
”Can you do anything about it?”
”I don't know. Probably have to call a meeting of the remaining Talents in the city. Gawd, I hate meetings. They expect me to hand them all the answers, then they debate about them for hours.”
”You need to do that delegation of power stuff.”