The Cleric Quintet: Night Masks (Page 21)

 

To her further surprise, the guardsman did not go into the barn; rather, he moved to the gutter along one corner and began to scale it. He was halfway up the tall structure before the man on the horse took serious note of him, and Danica thought his reaction - wide-eyed and pale - a curious thing.

"What in the Nine Hells is going on?" the young woman whispered quietly. She looked about the yard to see if Ivan or Pikel had slipped out of the barn, to try to discern if anyone inside had any idea about the strange events in the yard.

The guardsman made the edge of the roof. Danica looked up to see him, and she pulled her cowl tighter, fearing that the man had climbed only to give him a better view of her position, a better view of her.

He paid her little heed, though. He wore mismatched gloves and stood on the edge, looking down at his companion, who, by this time, was off the horse.

"You have outlived your usefulness," the guardsman explained. He laughed wildly, clapped his hands, and dove headlong off the roof.

His laughter turned to a shriek, then a groan as he hit, then silence.

Danica breathed hard, not beginning to understand what had just occurred. She looked down to the man standing beside the dead guard, saw that it was he who now wore the strange gloves. He looked up to her, shrugged his shoulders, and bolted for the barn door. By the time he got there, the gloves were gone.

"You resisted my call," Ghost said to Vander. "Ws have discussed this matter before."

"This loll is . . . ugly," Vander stammered in reply, obviously nervous in facing the man who had been his tormentor for so long. The firbolg gnawed his thick lips under his bushy red beard, wishing that his newfound allies would rush out and end this taunting nightmare.

"I am not speaking of young Cadderly!" Ghost retorted. "He will be dealt with in time, do not doubt. I have come here to speak only with you, the one who dared to resist my call!"

"I did not. . ."

"Silence!" Ghost commanded. "You know that to resist is to be punished. I cannot complete my task with an unwilling associate out here, safely from the town."

Unwilling vessel, Vander corrected, but he wisely held the thought to himself.

Ghost took a few steps across the barn floor, peering out through a crack in the side boards. "Do you remember your brother?" he teased, referring to the firbolg he had killed when Vander had run away from him, had run all the way back to the distant Spine of the \\brld Mountains.

The wicked little assassin turned about, smiling even more widely when he noticed Vender's great hands clenched in helpless rage at the giant's side.

Ivan peeked through a crack in the stall's wall, then looked back, concerned, to Cadderly and Pikel.

The young priest, intent on his telepathic connection with the firbolg, did not notice the dwarf at all. He felt Van-der's mounting rage, a blocking emotion that diminished their bond. Things had gone pretty much as Cadderly had expected, but he was no longer certain of how he should react. Even across the miles from Carradoon, Ghost's intrusion had been difficult to fend off. How would he and Vander fare now, with the sneaky assassin standing just a few feet in front of the firbolg?

Calm, he imparted to the firbolg. You must remain calm.

"Punishment," Ghost purred, putting one finger to his pursed lips. He fingered something in his other hand, something round and gold, though Vander could not discern exactly what it might be.

"I never told you this before," the assassin went on, smoothly, "but I did more to your son, poor boy, than take his arm."

Vander's eyes widened. His great hands twitched, trembled, and his roar shook the walls of the wooden barn.

"Time to go?" Ivan dared to ask aloud under the cover of that prolonged growl.

Cadderly's mind was filled with a wall of red, the manifestation of Finder's uncontrollable rage. The young priest was out of contact with the firbolg, he knew, and he knew, too, that by the time he managed to contact his ally once more, the disaster might well be complete. He uncoiled his legs beneath him and accepted Pikel's arm to hoist him to his feet. Neither his spindle-disks nor his enchanted walking stick offered him much hope in defeating a giant, so he clenched his hand, the hand with the enchanted ring, and reached inside his cloak for the wand.

"No!" he cried out, leading the dwarves into the main area of the barn. Cadderly calmed immediately, though, as did Ivan and Pikel behind him, when he regarded the scene, a scene that Vander apparently had well in control.

The firbolg, panting and growling, held the puny assassin in the air by the throat, shaking him hard, though the man was obviously already dead.

"Vander," Cadderly said quietly to calm the giant's rage.

The firbolg paid him no heed. With another roar of outrage, he folded the assassin in half, backward, and hurled him against the barn wall.

"He will return!" the giant wailed. "Always, he comes back for me! There can be no escape!"

"Like a damned troll," Ivan remarked from beside the firbolg, his voice reflecting sympathy for the beleaguered giant.

"Troll?" Cadderly whispered, the word inspiring an idea. The young priest held his clenched fist out before him, barked the word, "Fete!" and sent a line of fire at the corpse.

He kept his concentration firm, determined to burn whatever regenerative powers he could from the wretch, determined that Vander would at last be free. He glanced sidelong at the firbolg, took note of Vander's satisfied expression, then noticed, curiously, that Vander was wearing a golden ring.

Curious indeed, Cadderly thought as he turned back to the charred body, for he was just thinking of looking for such an item on Ghost's blackened form.

Cadderly searched his memory in an instant; Vander had worn no rings.

Aurora.

"Ivan!" Cadderly cried, ending his flames and spinning about. The giant moved as well, whipping out his huge sword, with Ivan standing unsuspecting right beside it.

Cadderly proved the quicker. "Mas fllul" he screamed as he drew the wand. A burst of colors exploded in the fir-bolg's face. Blinded, the giant continued his swing, aiming for where Ivan had been.

The dwarf, warned and then blinded by the blast, fell back. He heard the tremendous rush of air as the sword passed, taking off his helmet and clipping him enough to send him into a roll.

"I knew I'd get me chance!" the stubborn dwarf growled when he at last righted himself. Never shying from a fight, Ivan took up his axe and charged back in.

Danica slipped into the barn, discerned immediately what was going on, and fired a quarrel into the firbolg's belly.

The giant howled in pain but was not deterred from parrying Pikel's powerful charge, deflecting the overbalanced dwarf to the side, where he collided with a beam.

The giant feigned a sword thrust, then kicked out instead, sweeping Ivan aside once more.

Another quarrel caught him, this time in the shoulder, but again he seemed to hardly take note of it.

Danica was back at the door, Ivan and Pikel off to the sides, leaving Cadderly as the closest target. The young priest's first instincts told him to use his ring, to drive the beast back with a line of flame until his friends could regroup.

He realized the grim consequences for Vander, though, for the poor, proud firbolg who had been trapped in the weakling body and tossed aside like so much garbage. The magical ring had no power to restore burned flesh, and if this body was charred, like the assassin's corpse across the room, the firbolg would never reclaim it.

The giant lurched, popped in the back of the knee by Pikel's rebounding charge. With a grunt, the beast reached around and grabbed the green-bearded dwarf, hoisting him up into the air.

Pikel stared into the outraged giant's bloodshot eyes, then promptly stuffed his foot up the beast's flaring nostril and waggled his gnarly and smelly dwarf toes.

Half-sneezing, half-coughing, the disgusted giant hurled Pikel into the far wall and wiped his arm across his face. When he looked back at Cadderly, he found himself staring down the end of that slender wand. Thinking another attack forthcoming, Ghost snapped his eyes shut.

"fflu," Cadderly said calmly, and the whole barn lit up with the brightness of a midday sun in an open field. Cadderly's aim had been perfect, though, and soon the glow of his wand's magic restricted itself to the firbolg's face, particularly to the giant's eyes.

Whiteness? When Ghost opened his eyes, he saw only whiteness, glaring and blinding. The whole damned world had gone white! Or perhaps, Ghost wondered, more curious than afraid, he had been transported to some other place.

Another stinging crossbow bolt dove into his belly, driving that notion away.

The roar shook the walls once more, and the light-blind giant charged ahead, toward the unseen bowman, flailing his sword wildly. He slammed into the edge of the open barn door, dislodged the thing, and continued out.

Danica danced quickly away, determining her role in this fight. Another quarrel sliced into the giant, hired him ahead.

Ghost felt a club slam the back of his knee again, this tune slipping through his great legs and tripping him as he tried to spin and react. Down the giant sprawled, shattering a water trough with his face and arms.

Something heavy and sharp, an axe, perhaps, sliced into his ankle; a crossbow quarrel entered hk shoulder, clicking off his huge collarbone.

Somehow the stubborn wretch managed to stand and stagger forward. His already wounded ankle took a hit from the heavy club.

He turned about, sword leading, but the dwarf was already out of reach and the mighty weapon smacked hard against a small tree, uprooting it. Growling with rage, Ghost heard scuffling feet as the enemy continued to flank him, to encircle him.

He tried to call for the Gfeearu/u, even though he knew his own body was inaccessible, and knew that, even if he managed to hold enough concentration to summon the thing, Cadderly would somehow follow his spirit's movements. He couldn't get to it anyway; the hits were coming too fast, from every direction.

He jerked about, one way and then another, leading with his low-cutting sword each time. Fury became his only defense, and he was confident that he was swift enough to keep his enemies at bay. Only weariness would slow him, and he hoped he could continue the blind assault until the infernal whiteness left his eyes.

Another quarrel whistled in, taking the giant in the lung this time, and Ghost heard the wheeze of his life's-breath spurting out through a bloody hole.

He swung again, and again, frantic and dizzy. He overbalanced, roaring and wheezing. He tried to step forward, but his badly gashed ankle would no longer support him, and he lurched ahead, bending low.

Right in line for the waiting Ivan.

The axe chopped into the firbolg's backbone; Ghost felt the burning flash, then felt nothing at all below his waist. His momentum carried him one more long step forward, an awkward gait on stiff, unsupporting legs, and he tumbled and turned, crashing hard into the base of the huge elm at the side of the house.

There was only whiteness, pain, numbness.

Ghost heard the three friends shuffle near him but had not the strength to lift his sword in defense. Above all else, he heard the bloody wheeze at his side.

"Got him," Ivan remarked as Cadderly rushed up to join his friends. "Ye wanting us to tie him down afore ye talk with him?"

The young priest, stone-faced, did not reply, understanding that the Loss of a physical body did not end the threat of Ghost's evil. He walked to the side of the helpless giant, took his spindle-disks in hand, and hurled them with all his strength right into the firbolg's temple.

The battered monster jerked once, weirdly, then slipped to the ground at the side of the tree.

Danica, holding her crossbow low, gaped open-mouthed at her lover's uncharacteristic lack of mercy.

"Take out your bolts," Cadderly instructed her, "but do not remove his ring!"

The last image the young priest saw was that of his friends exchanging confused glances, but he had no time to explain.

Spirits were waiting for him.

Cadderly followed the flow of Deneir's song into the nether world without hesitation. The material world blurred to him; his friends appeared as indistinct gray blobs. As he had expected, the young priest saw the spirit of Ghost sitting near the fallen giant's body - on one of the lower limbs of the elm, actually - the spirit's head resting in its translucent palm, waiting patiently for the magical ring to open the receptacle for its return.

Cadderiy knew then that he had two choices: go back and remove the giant's ring, or go and find the rightful owner of the soon-to-be-restored body. He willed himself to the barn, leaving his corporeal body standing impassively beside his friends.

%nder's spirit crouched inside the barn, terribly afraid and uncertain.

You also? came his thoughts to Cadderly.

lam not dead, Cadderly explained, and he beckoned for the firbolg to follow him, showed his lost friend what he must do.

Together, the two spirits set upon Ghost with a vengeance. They could do no real damage to the assassin's ghost, but they mentally pushed him away, combined their wills to create a spirit wind that increased the distance between the evil spirit and the recovering body.

You'll not stop me, the wretch's spirit told them, its thoughts burning into their minds.

Cadderly looked back, saw a glowing ring form beside the firbolg's massive form. Go, he bade Vander.

The giant's spirit rushed away; Ghost's spirit followed quickly.

Cadderly held up a hand. No, he commanded, and Ghost slowed almost to a stop as he passed the young priest's mental barrier. Cadderly's spirit arms wrapped about him, further delaying him, and the young priest, both his corporeal and spirit forms, smiled as Vander's spirit narrowed like a flying arrow and slipped through the glowing ring, entering the waiting giant form.

You are lost, Cadderly told the assassin, releasing his mental hold.

Ghost didn't hesitate; he rushed for the only other waiting, spiritless receptacle.

"Shave me if this one ain't alive again!" Ivan growled, lifting his axe dangerously above the firbolg's head. "He lifts one o' them big arms, and I'm gonna give him a headache . . ."

Danica grabbed the dwarfs arm to quiet him, explaining that the firbolg, alive or not, was in no position to threaten anyone. The reassurance sent Pikel skittering up beside the giant head, the curious dwarf bending low to watch the reawakening.

A strange mewing sound from Cadderly turned them all about. The young priest's body trembled, one eye twitched wildly, and his mouth contorted as if he were trying to say something but could not control his actions.

Ghost had gotten there first, had slipped into Cadderly's waiting shell. Cadderly rushed in right behind, felt the burning pain of rematerializing, and felt, too, that he was not alone.

"Get out!" he finally managed to shout, aloud and tele-pathically. Ghost did not respond, other than to push at Cadderly's spirit. The young priest felt the burn begin again and knew it signified that he was slipping back out of his form.

But to be pushed out then was to lose himself forever. Cadderly called on his recollections of mental battle, of his experience with the imp, Druzil, back in the forest, and called, too, upon the song of Deneir, hoping to find in its notes some clue that would give him an edge.

But Ghost, too, had experiences to call upon - three lifetimes of exchanging spirits with unwilling victims.

What it came down to was a test of willpower, a test of mental strength.

Ghost didn't have a chance.

"Out!" Cadderly screamed. He saw his friends, clearly for a moment, then slipped back to the spirit world and saw Ghost's stunned form, floating helplessly away.

You have not won, came the defiant assassin's promise.

K>ur connections are gone now, Cadderly argued. You have no magical ring upon a corpse to give you a hold in the material world.

I have the Ghearufu, the sinister spirit retorted. You cannot know its strength! There will be other victims about, foolish priest, weaklings who will lose out to me. And then I will come again for you! Know that I will come again for you!

The threat weighed heavily on Cadderly, but he didn't believe Ghost's promises were likely. A black spot appeared on the ground, accompanied by a growl, confirming Cadderly's suspicions.

Your connections to the material world are gone now, Cadderly reiterated, seeing the other spirit's confusion.

What is it? Ghost cried to Cadderly, his panic showing clearly.

A black hand shot up from the ground, grabbed the evil spirit's ankle, and held it fast. Frantic, Ghost struggled to pull away, the effort tripping him to a sitting position.

Black hands grabbed his wrists; growling shadows rose all about him.

Cadderly blinked his eyes open to see his concerned friends, Danica and Ivan, holding him by the arms, and Pi-kel studying his face. He felt unsteady, thoroughly drained, and was glad for the support.

"Eh?" the green-bearded dwarf piped curiously.

"I am all right," Cadderly assured them, though his shaky voice weakened his claim considerably. He looked to Danica, and she smiled, knowing beyond doubt that it was indeed Cadderly standing before her.

"The giant's alive again," Ivan said with wonder.

"It is truly %nder," Cadderly assured them. "He returned through the power of the ring." He drew a deep breath to stop the world from swimming in front of his eyes. His head throbbed more painfully than he ever remembered.

"To the barn," he instructed, and he stepped out of Danica and Ivan's grasp and took a step forward.

He pitched sidelong to the dirt, overcome.

It took the young priest many minutes to orient himself when he again found consciousness. He was in the barn -  the stench of burned flesh told him that more than the blurry images dancing before his half-opened eyes.

Cadderly blinked and rubbed his bleary orbs. His three friends were with him; he realized he had not been unconscious for very long.

"They just appeared" Danica explained to him, leading his gaze to the items - a small, gold-edged mirror and mismatched gloves - adorning the charred and broken corpse by the wall.

"Ghearufu," Cadderly said, remembering the name Ghost had given the thing. The young priest stared closely at the item, felt a sensation of brooding, hungry evil. He looked around to his friends, concerned. "Have any of you handled it?"

Danica shook her head. "Not as yet," she replied. "Ws have decided that the best course of action would be to bring the item to the Edificant Library for further study."

Cadderly thought differently, but he nodded, deciding it best not to argue.

"Has the firbolg awakened?" he asked.

"That one'U be out for days," Ivan answered.

Again, Cadderly thought differently. He understood the regenerative powers of the magical ring and was not surprised, a moment later, when \&nder, hearing the discussion, walked into the barn.

"Shave me," Ivan whispered under his breath.

"Oo oi," Pikel agreed.

"Welcome back," Cadderly greeted the giant. "Ifou are free from Ghost - you know that - and you are free, too, to go your way. )fe shall escort you as far as the Snow-flakes - "

"You should not make such an offer so easily" the fir-bolg's resonant voice interrupted, and Cadderly wondered if he had misjudged the giant, if perhaps Vander was not so innocent after all. The others were apparently thinking the same thing, for Ivan and Pikel put their hands to their weapons, preparing for another fight.

under smiled at them all and made no move toward his great sword, belted at his side. "I know where lies Castle Trinity, your true enemy," the firbolg explained, "and I pay my debts."

ne temple priests regarded Cadderly and his three companions curiously as they made their I bouncing way to the guest rooms. I Rufo heard the racket and opened his door to see what was going on.

"Hello to yerself, too," Ivan growled at him, putting a hand on the angular man's chest and shoving him back into his small room. The other three came in right after the dwarf, Danica closing the door behind her.

"Are you surprised to see me ... alive?" Cadderly asked, sweeping his blue cape dramatically from his broad shoulders.