“Eldan!” A harsh-edged voice spat the word. It was followed by a clang-clang-clang of something hard and metal being run along a cell’s iron bars. It was Useph’s voice. Garon recognized it, although he had never heard the always-composed aristocrat sound like that before.
There was no response, and that seemed to anger Useph. His breathing grew harsh, almost a growl. The clang-clang-clang sounded again, and again.
“LOOK AT ME!!” The shout was so loud that Garon barely heard the hiss of Riular’s breath in his ear, even though the tall Eldan was right next to him. He looked at the Eldan, and Riular didn’t seem to notice him. His usually-serene face was drawn tight, teeth bared, eyes on fire with the readiness to strike in defense of his fellow Eldan.
“What did you tell my wife?” Useph said. “Are you determined to make her hate me? I have your Sceptre, so you destroy my happiness? You know I can kill you in an instant!”
“Why do you feel she is on my side, not yours?” Riulessa asked. “Evidently she told you I was here. It seems to me she is helping you.”
“I had to extract the information from her. She has been poisoned with treasonous thoughts,” Useph said. “I know it was you. Everyone in this city was loyal to me-until you came here.”
“It isn’t me,” Riulessa said. “It’s the Sceptre in your hand. If poison runs in your wife’s veins, that is its source. It will poison you, and everyone in this city, as long as it is here.”
“Ha!” Useph said. “So I suppose I should give it back to you? Let you take it back to the Brightwood?”
“I don’t imagine for a moment that you will,” Riulessa said. “Nonetheless, I am only telling you the truth.”
”So, you are an expert on the Sceptre,” Useph said. “What else can you tell me? Earn another day alive, Eldan, or I will use this Sceptre on you, right now.”
“You can do that,” Riulessa said. “But here is one important thing: each time you use the Sceptre, its corrupting influence grows ten-fold. If you are going to keep the thing, use it sparingly! If you ever want a chance at anything but strife between yourself and your wife, don’t use it anywhere near her! The corrupting influence is so strong that when one of our number was forced to use the Sceptre to stop your first attempt to steal it, we had no choice but to end his life. The risk was too great.”
There was a few moments’ silence. When Useph finally responded, his voice was almost calm. “Very clever, she-Eldan,” he said. “If you cannot take the weapon, you will make me fear its use?”
“I am only telling the truth,” Riulessa said.
“Maybe, maybe,” Useph said. “I will not kill you today.” There was a pause, and another ringing clang-clang. “So. If I do not use the Sceptre, then the poison in Mala’s heart will fade?”
“Possibly,” Riulessa said. “Without its corruption you might both become more yourselves.”
“This complicates things,” Useph said. “But I have always been a man who solves complex problems. There was a final clang-clang-clang, though much fainter this time--more a clink-clink-clink, and then the sound of his booted feet retreated the way he had come.
~
Kiri was the only member of their little rescue group that Mala was likely to trust, and after the way they had parted last time, Kiri felt sure that trust did not extend very far. Mala had always been unpredictable, and now that she knew Kiri had been keeping a big secret from her, she might be angry. Or maybe she’d be excited. Or maybe she would be plotting to take advantage of it. It was even possible, locked up as she was, that she was simply afraid, and would take any chance of escape.
They took a narrow back stair up to the rooms where Mala was being held. It was a servant’s stair that was too close and uncomfortable for any member of the nobility to ever take. Besides the slits of light that filtered around imperfectly-fitted doors, the stairwell was lit only by the candle that Del was carrying. He carried it bare, apparently unconcerned that the wax might drip down onto his gloved hand. Since it was one of the few things she could see clearly, Kiri kept looking at the white candle and its globs of wax making their slow way toward Del’s slick black glove. They would make quite the mess of his fine glove if they ever got there.
The stairs were wooden, old and worn enough that bare feet would’ve meant abundant splinters, and creaky, but only Neal ever made a sound. Kiri wasn’t sure why they had brought him along. Judging by his clumsiness, relative to her and Del, he wasn’t any good at spycraft.
Of all the people Mala would ever consent to work with, Neal had to be low on the list. Though, come to think of it, he was very low on Kiri’s, too, but she kept ending up working with him. She decided necessity would win out as much for Mala as it had for her, and that she need not worry about it. At least with Neal she was sure of his motivation. He would try to take the lead of the Thief Lord’s gang from Useph, and he wanted Mala to help him do it.
Del stopped in front of a stone door and moved his candle around and leaned close to inspect it. Whatever he was looking for, he seemed satisfied. He blew the candle out, leaving them in near-complete darkness. The only thing Kiri could see now was the outline of the door, lit yellow from the light spilling around its edges.
The door moved, just a little, slow and silent, the slit of light on one side turning into a gap. Through the opening they heard jostling, thuds and grunts. Someone was fighting, not with swords, but with fists. The door moved a little more, and Del’s silhouette blocked the light as he peered out. After a short pause he slipped through the door. Kiri let Neal go ahead of her. She didn’t think he could close the door as quietly as she could, which she then did carefully after she went through. The sounds of the still ongoing fight probably meant that no one would have heard anyway.
They were in a wide corridor. It stretched a short distance in either direction. They had just come through the only door in the whole length on one side, but there were three other openings on the wall opposite. Del led them along the wall toward the center one, which was where the sound of the fight seemed to be coming from. Neal, though perhaps not an experienced spy, followed Del’s example of sliding along the wall well enough. Kiri followed them, and made sure to keep an eye and ear out for anyone coming through the other openings. She’d trust Del to check out where they were going, and do her own job of covering their backs. She didn’t really trust him to have the right motivations, but he seemed professional enough. Everything he and Weta had done so far was strange, at best. And Neal vouching for him didn’t really raise him in her estimation much at all.
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No one came, and after a quick peek through the gap, Del gestured to them to follow him. Kiri kept half an eye on their backs as they moved forward. This corridor was much like the last, though longer, and lined with quite a few doors. There was also a long woven rug along its center, making their job of sneaking that much easier. The sounds of fighting grew louder as they moved forward. Del drew to a stop near a door that was standing partly open. Slowly he glanced in, then with a little shake of his head hurried past. He beckoned with one hand for Kiri and Neal to do the same. Kiri looked in as she passed. The room was a mess. Hunks of broken wood that had once been furniture-a table and chairs by the look of them-were kicked carelessly around by two men in the uniforms of Useph’s guard who were grappling with each other.
Both men were a mess, bruised and bloody. They may have been guards, but they took no notice of the spies slipping past them. Most likely it was another effect of the Sceptre. Maybe they didn’t need to bother fighting Useph. The Sceptre’s influence would bring his whole kingdom crashing down soon enough. The more she saw of its effects the more Kiri knew Neal had been right to risk everything to stop this horror. He might double cross them in some other way, but his desire to stop the Sceptre’s evil had seemed sincere from the start. .
Del stopped again, this time pressed against the wall where yet another corridor crossed this one. He looked at Kiri and beckoned her forward.
“You’re up, Firebrand,” he whispered, sliding back to make space so she could look around the corner. This passageway was narrower, without a rug, and there were only two doors on it, both on the same side. One of them was flanked by two bored looking guards. They didn’t seem to care about, or didn’t notice, the sound of the fistfight going on nearby. Kiri ducked back in case either looked in her direction and brought her hand into a loose fist. She wanted to build just enough charge to knock them out. If it didn’t quite take, that would probably be ok. Del could be over there in a few steps and help finish the job. The two fighting guards were unlikely to come running.
When her hand was burning just the right amount Kiri took one step into the passage and spread her fingers wide. The bolt of lightning shot straight from her hand and split, striking both guards at once. They didn’t even have a chance to react. Both fell, stunned and unconscious, before the crack of the bolt had faded away.
Del gave Kiri a tight nod, eyes squinted thoughtfully, as he passed her. He nudged the downed guards with his toes before whipping out a set of lockpicks and setting to work on the door. Kiri came up close behind him, trying to give him room to work but at the same time leaning as close to the door as she could.
“Mala,” she called softly. “It’s me. Are you there?”
There was the sound of someone moving around within, then she heard, from just the other side of the door, “Kiri? That was you taking out the guard?”
“Yeah,” Kiri said. “We’re here to rescue you.”
“I was worried it was Useph,” Mala said. “He does something crazier each time I see him. Wait, you said we? You and who else?”
“It’s me and Neal,” Kiri said. “And one of his people: Del.”
“Couldn’t find anyone better?” Only Mala could have sounded so contemptuous from behind a locked door where she was being held prisoner. “Seriously? Neal?”
“At least you’ve got the Firebrand,” Neal said as he joined Kiri and Del.
“Yeah, that’s crazy isn’t it?” Mala said. “Still can’t get over that. Firebrand.” She laughed.
“It’s unlocked,” Del said quietly. He seemed to have been ignoring their conversation. He stepped back and Mala opened the door and came through herself. She looked at each of the unconscious guards and raised an eyebrow at Kiri.
“Firebrand.” Kiri said, raising her hand to show the glowing center of her palm.
“You’re right, Neal,” Mala said. “At least I’ve got the Firebrand. She is useful.”
“Hush,” Del said, peering down the hallway.
Mala huffed at him, but when she spoke again her voice was much softer. “Don’t walk behind me, Neal.”
Neal shrugged, brushing past her to follow Del back the way they had come.
“I expected Shendra to be with you,” Mala whispered to Kiri. She crowded close to Kiri and hooked an arm through her elbow as they walked, acting more like a schoolgirl chatting with her best friend than an escaping prisoner.
“She’s rescuing Riulessa,” Kiri murmured. She tried to move Mala toward the edge of the corridor. Ahead, Neal and Del were both slinking with their backs pressed to the wall.
“The Eldan?” Mala said. “That doesn’t seem useful.” When Kiri nudged her toward the wall again, she clucked her tongue. “We shouldn’t be sneaking. The best thing to do now is rally the guard against Useph. I think all but his most loyal are ready to turn against him now. I don’t know if it’s the Sceptre’s influence on them, or seeing its influence on him, but there is discomfort in the ranks.”
“Huh,” Kiri said. “That actually is pretty much Neal’s plan.”
“Yeah, bet he fancies they’ll follow him,” Mala said. “That’s not happening.”
“Um, it’s not?” Kiri said.
“Right,” Mala said. “NEAL!” She shouted the word loud enough that Kiri jumped.
Both Neal and Del swiveled immediately. Del looked furious. He had a knife in his hand that Kiri hadn’t noticed him carrying before.
“We’re going straight to the Tower of the Order,” she said. “Let’s get this off on the right foot.”
“Shut your mouth,” Del said, stepping past Neal, knife pointed outward. “You’re not setting the agenda here, lady. We’re meeting Weta.”
“I have no idea who that is,” Mala said. “Put that knife away. Firebrand?”
It was galling that Mala assumed she could order her around, but Kiri didn’t want her stabbed. She lifted her hand. The heat gathered as the light grew enough that she could see its reflection in Del’s eyes.
“No fighting,” she said.
Del licked his lips, eyes tracking to the fire in Kiri’s hand. He started to move to sheathe the knife but at that moment there was the sound of running footsteps approaching and he swung to confront whoever was coming. Kiri just had time to realize that the sound of fighting had stopped at some point before one of the battered combatants rounded the corner.
The one of his eyes that wasn’t swollen shut widened at the sight of them: Neal, leaning disinterestedly against the wall, Mala, wearing her gauzy nightdress, Del, bare knife in hand, and Kiri, in form-fitting black and mask, with her burning hand upraised.
“My Lady!” he said, apparently deciding to try to ignore the rest of them, though his eyes did dart away from Mala to Kiri’s hand as he spoke. “You are freed! Shall I rally the guard!”
“Perfect,” Mala whispered to Kiri. She stepped away from her friend, so she stood alone in the center of the hall. A gracious, queenly smile spread across her face, as she held out her hand to the disheveled and battered guardsman.