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His curse angered Tressalara more than his threat. Fear for Cador and his men gave her sudden strength. She struggled against her captors and almost broke free.
Lector grabbed her arms bruisingly. She expected to be shaken or thrown to the floor. Instead, he pressed a moist kiss upon her unwilling mouth. Although she tried, she could not twist her head to avoid it. When Lector had proved his point, he laughed, his humor restored. There was something about subjugating an unwilling woman that made the prize all the sweeter.
He released her. “Use your wiles on the wench, Rill. She was in her father’s confidence. There must be other secret panels we have not yet discovered.”
Rill stepped forward, holding his shard of the Andun aloft. Tressalara recognized it at once. “So that is how you murdered my father and overthrew the guards! Black magic.” A small, cold smile curved her lips. “A warning, my lords: It is said that those who use the Andun Stone for ill will suffer tenfold for their disrespect.”
“It is you who will suffer, and those foolish rebels skulking through the Mystic Forest, with an outlawed Kildoran at their head. When I find them I will crush them beneath my heel. Cador’s head shall sit on a pike over the castle gates.”
Hope flooded Tressalara’s chest. They had been expecting only her, not Cador and his troops. They must have set a guard only on the last half of the tunnel, rather than at its beginning. Perhaps they hadn’t even found the particular entrance she had taken. If she used her wits, they might still come out of this alive.
The magician wove a pattern in the air with the shard. A buzzing filled Tressalara’s head. Her limbs became heavier than stone. Sound retreated, and time slowed. She felt herself shrinking to a drop of ice far in the back of her brain.
One voice seemed to fill the universe:“Hear me, Tressalara, and obey. Do you know of another place where your father might have hidden the mighty Andun Stone?”
Against her will, she found her mouth opening to speak. It was impossible to resist. “Yes…”
Rill sent Lector a glance. “You see, even the princess must respond to the power in this small shard, although it works only at close quarters. Imagine what I…whatyouwill be able to do with both my shard and the Andun Stone in your control!”
Lector was filled with admiration. Perhaps he would not dispose of Tressalara, but keep her on as his queen: subdued to a sweet, kittenlike helplessness by day, released from the spell at night to become a spitting hellcat in his bed. The idea held great appeal.
Once more Rill wove a pattern through the air and addressed the captive princess. “Tell me where I may find this hiding place.”
Again she struggled mightily. The crystal that Cador had given her warmed against her skin. It seemed to fill her whole body with heat and light. “There are many…places where it might be. Perhaps…two dozen or more. Someare difficult to explain…. I must show you…”
Lector cursed. “Two dozen! We cannot spare the time to search out the Andun Stone now!”
“There is no need.” Rill leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Remember the duplicate I had made. No one will be able to tell the difference. Shall I bring it to the great hall?”
“Yes.” Lector relaxed, and the anger oozed out of him. “I was forgetting your wise precautions. You shall be rewarded handsomely for your services, Rill.”
The sorcerer hid his smile. He had his own ideas as to what constituted a suitable reward, and he was sure it was far greater than Lector imagined. He stepped toward the door and almost tripped over a rolled-up rug. Giving it a kick, he nodded, and the soldiers opened the door.
Niniane and Illusius rolled over as the rug hit the wall, pink-clawed feet waving futilely in the air. “It’s our tails,” the young wizard told the sorceress. “We’re just not used to them.”
After a few false starts they got the hang of curling their tails exactly right and flipped back on their feet. “The princess! We must follow her!” They shot out of the rug and into the corridor, where they vanished into the shadows just before the door shut behind them.
Lector and Rill led Tressalara away from the royal apartments. The soldiers followed. There was no need for them to restrain her now that she was under the spell: Anyone seeing her walking docilely between them would imagine that the princess was there of her own free will.
Cador waited impatiently for the signal from the east tower. A cool wind sprang up, and the crescent moon flirted from behind veils of cloud. It was long past time.
According to the plan, those infiltrating the feast were to make sure that Lector and Rill were cut off from escape, while Tressalara was hidden safely away in the minstrel’s gallery until after the melee. If the guests inside were still loyal to the house of Varro, they would raise their swords in the rebel’s cause. But those in stolen uniforms should have overcome the gate guards and raised the portcullis by now. He should have never let Tressalara place herself in such danger! His trust in her abilities had affected his judgment.
“Something is wrong,” he said to his second-in-command. “We should have been inside an hour ago.”
Before the other man could reply, the side door of the massive gatehouse opened and a lone figure stole out. Cador recognized him by his way of moving.
Using the shadows, the man vanished from view for several minutes, only to reappear nearby.
“What news?” Cador demanded. “Have all your comrades been seized?”
“Nay,” the soldier said, heaving a great sigh. “Only the princess.”
A terrible pain ripped through Cador, and a black rage came over him. “I swear by all that is holy, I will free Tressalara or die!”
When he fell, it would be with her name on his lips and her beloved face engraved upon his heart.
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