Part 12 (1/2)
She did not expect an attack from Grandmaster Endross*she had defeated his predecessor years ago, and he knew it*but it was best to be cautious. Practically every Endross she'd ever met was dangerously unpredictable.
Finally, Endross took his hand from his sword and gave her the shadow of a smile. ”Nothing threatening, Grandmaster Naraka. I only wished to discuss Simon, son of Kalman. With the Valinhall Incarnation loose, he can't be trusted.”
”Eliadel trusts him,” Naraka pointed out. ”More importantly, his mother was killed by a Damascan Traveler. From what I've heard, he's full of rage. He has apparently killed more Damascan Travelers than any one of us.”
She had intended that as a barb, and Endross did not disappoint her.
”Not any of us,” Endross said forcefully, running his hand along the hilt of his sword. ”Besides, he must have been trained by the Dragon Army. Perhaps even by Indirial himself.”
One of Endross' fists clenched, and Naraka suppressed a smile. He had always wanted to challenge Indirial, even though Naraka was privately certain that the Overlord would carve Grandmaster Endross like a ham.
”I remember a time when the Dragon Army was our strongest ally,” Naraka said.
”But that was a long time ago,” Endross responded.
”So it was.” Before they had killed her granddaughter.
”And as for Simona” Endross shook his head. ”I'm not certain he's as set against Damasca as he pretends to be. He spoke with Malachi before Alin arrived, and supposedly fought with him. But if that's true, why were they both still alive when Eliadel arrived?”
”Not everyone duels to the death every time, Endross,” Naraka said. Privately, though, she had considered the same thoughts.
Grandmaster Endross took an angry step forward, looming over Naraka in what he no doubt imagined was a threatening manner. ”You take this too lightly, Naraka,” he said.
Naraka sighed and waved him away. ”Settle down, child. I happen to agree with you.”
Endross' face barely changed, but he blinked expressively. ”You do?”
”Simon is not bound to us,” she said. Not as tightly as Alin was, at any rate. ”He is not committed to our cause, and he has dangerously high influence over our Eliadel. We need him either securely on our side, or safely dead.”
She wasn't sure which of those options she preferred. Naraka would relish the thought of the Dragon Army getting what it deserved, but she wasn't convinced Simon himself had earned a death sentence. Well, he would have to prove it.
Endross' dark face almost lit up. ”In that case, I would like to be the one to duel him.”
”That won't be necessary,” Naraka said.
”Please, I would be happy to test myself*”
”I said that won't be necessary, boy,” Naraka snapped. She glared at him through her red-tinted gla.s.ses. When he finally nodded, she snorted and looked away.
”Besides,” she said, ”it's already taken care of.”
Simon drew Azura down the air, the Gate to Valinhall sliding into existence behind it. Whispers slid out from the Gate, tickling his mind with recognition.
Apparently, the dolls had something to complain about.
”I'm coming in right now,” Simon called. ”Just wait, I'll be there in just a minute.”
If anything, the whispering took on an angry tone. Simon kept cutting the Gate, but as the Gate grew larger and more defined, the whispers became clearer. He felt that he could almost understand what they had to say. He could even recognize Otoku's voice; she seemed to be shouting at him, in her way.
They're fighting again, Simon thought. It had happened before; among more than three dozen dolls, it was probably inevitable that they would disagree every once in a while. This time sounded worse than usual.
Finally, Azura's tip reached the floor, and the Valinhall Gate bloomed into a wide portrait of the House's entry hall. Simon had barely a second to take in the red-cus.h.i.+oned furniture, the lights, the mirrors, and the sword racks on the walls, before the urgent whispers of the dolls crashed into his mind.
akill you!
Run!
Behind you!
aoutside the window, you half-wit.
Hurry and dodge!
Hide!
Come inside, Simon, hurry!
That's what you get for leaving us behind.
h.e.l.lo, Simon, how are you?
Flee!
It seemed that all of his dolls were speaking at once, each giving him advice that overwhelmed and conflicted with the advice of the others. He stood for a moment, stunned, before the obvious message hit him: he was under attack.
He immediately spun, putting his back to the Valinhall Gate, and surveyed the room. Night had fallen during the meeting with the Grandmasters, and now the room was lit by nothing more than a pair of ordinary lamps. They burned low, keeping most of the room in shadows, but he had just enough light to see.
The bed, tucked into a nook in the corner, seemed undisturbed. The furniture was all in its proper place, and the curtains around the window fluttered in a gentle breeze. He could see most of the room, and he saw nothing suspicious.
Otoku's voice floated to him through the Gate. If you're done having a look around, she said, would you come inside? Of course, you might prefer being disemboweleda.
A few of her sisters chuckled appreciatively.
Where are they? Simon sent. He held Azura in both hands, angling it across his body. The point almost sc.r.a.ped the ceiling.
You should listen to us, Caela said. Come inside.
Where? Simon insisted.
Several dolls sighed.
Angeline spoke, as straightforward and businesslike as always. They're climbing up the walls, Simon. They will be inside the window in seconds.
How many? Simon asked.
Three.
Which is two more than it would take to kill you, Otoku pointed out.