The rusty lock grated open. Aurian froze, her body tensed for combat. Had the guard heard? Apparently not. Disgust at his inattention warred with her relief. Forral would not have tolerated such laxity! Opening the door only enough to squeeze herself through, lest the rusty old hinges betray her with their squeak, Aurian sidled afohg the low, arched passage on silent feet, suppressing a wish for her warrior’s clothing. Not only would this thin robe be awkward in a fight, but it was useless against the piercing cold of the dungeons, which was already stiffening her muscles and eating its way into her very bones.
Aurian could see the profile of the guard silhouetted against the yellow torchlight at the bottom of the stairwell. The fool’s eyes were turned away from her to look longingly up the steps toward the warm guardroom, instead of down the corridor he was meant to be guarding. Serves you right! Aurian thought, as her arm went around his throat in the quick, lethal throttling hold that Maya had taught her so long ago. But she had never killed with her bare hands before, and was unable to suppress her shudders as he slid soundlessly to the floor, his windpipe crushed and eyes staring wide with shock. Clenching her teeth, the Mage quickly rifled the still twitching corpse for sword, knife, and keys, trying to avoid the accusing stare of those horrid eyes. Then she ran, as quickly as she could, back down the corridor to Shia’s cell, feeling keen relief at leaving her grisly handiwork behind.
As Aurian sliced through her restraining bonds, the great cat exploded into motion like an uncoiling spring—and fell heavily to her side, her numb limbs refusing to support her. “Shh!” Aurian warned, and knelt to rub the cold legs and paws. Though curses seemed not to be a part of the cat’s mental vocabulary, Shia’s tirade of low, spitting snarls sounded so much like a stream of human invective that the Mage had to smile. “Listen,” she told her friend, “once you’re on your feet, go to the bottom of the stairs and guard this corridor. Wait for me there, while I free the other prisoners.”
“Those men?” Shia’s eyes blazed with a savage light.
“Not those men,” Aurian said firmly. “Once I’ve freed the good men, we’ll deal with the bad ones, I promise.”
“What good men?” Shia sulked.
“Trust me.” With a hug, Aurian sent her out, taking the opposite direction herself, toward the other cells.
A low, nervous murmur of voices betrayed the presence of the men occupying the cell. “Who’s within?” Aurian called softly, and the sound ceased abruptly.
“Yazour, captain of the Khisal’s guard. Who are_yo«?” The voice was young, but firm and strong,-despite the fact that the owner was imprisoned to await the dubious mercy of his cruel king.
“The Lady Aurian, the Khisal’s sorceress,” Aurian whispered back. At her words, a frightened muttering broke out among the men in the cell, and she heard Yazour hushing them hastily. “Lady, can you release us? His Highness has dire need of our help.”
Wasting no time, Aurian opened the door, struggling a little with the heavy lock. She belatedly remembered that the men would be unable to see in the dark passage, and spotting a burnt-out stump of torch affixed to a bracket on the wall, she lighted it with a careless wave of her hand.
“How did you . ^—.-iLady, that is forbidden,” a stern voice chided her. The captain of the guard, recognizable by his shoulder insignia, stood before her, his brows knotted in a disapproving frown.
“If you want to save the Khisal, this is no time to be particular,” Aurian said flatly, approving the way that he accepted her words with a brusque nod. Taking the bunch of keys from the lock, he sent one of his men along the passage to open the other cells. A practical man, then. Like his Prince, he seemed young for his responsibilities. There was no gray in the long black hair that was tied neatly back from his face, but his stern demeanor and the honest, level gaze of his dark eyes promised to Aurian a fund of courage and common sense. She had no time to register more, for at that moment a hulking figure thrust to the front of the soldiers, elbowing them effortlessly aside.
“Bohan! Thank the Gods you’re all right!” Aurian reached up on tiptoe to hug him, and saw his face break into an astonished but delighted smile. Sword cuts on his body and bruises on his arms and face showed that he had sold his freedom dearly, but his strength seemed undiminished as he returned her hug with bone-cracking force.
“Someone comes!” Shia’s warning thought rang clearly in Aurian’s mind.
“Deal with him,” she told the cat. “Quietly, if you can.” “My pleasure!”
There was the sound of a scuffle along the passage, then silence. “What was that?” Yazour demanded sharply.
“My friend the Demon from the Arena, dealing with one of Xiang’s guards. You had better warn your men that she’s on our side!”
“By the Reaper!” Yazour muttered, his eyes very wide. The struggle in the guardroom was bloody, but brief. Aurian sent Shia in first, and the cat erupted into the room in a whirlwind of teeth and claws, wreaking havoc among Xiang’s horrified soldiers. Aurian followed with Yazour and his men, the latter arming themselves quickly from fallen bodies, or weapons stored within the room. Then they began to work their way up through the corridors of the palace, fanning out as they went to deal mercilessly with any enemy that they encountered along the way. It was vital that no one remained alive to carry word to Xiang. At last they reached the main levels, and the long hallway that led to the audience chamber, and discovered why they had met with so little opposition thus far. The corridor was bristling with guards. “Xiang must be within,” Yazour whispered to the Mage, after a quick glance around the corner.
“Now what? We’ll never get through that lot without them raising the alarm,” Aurian said, groaning. Weary as she was, it was easy to feel discouraged. She was sickened by the bloodshed that had already occurred, and was finding the great curved scimitar with which she had armed herself difficult and awkward to handle after being used to the straight, two-sided blades favored by her own people. It was no easy matter to learn an entirely new technique when your life was at stake.
Bohan tugged urgently at her arm, pointing back the way they had come. Aurian frowned, trying to decipher his gestures. “You mean there’s another way in?” she asked him. The mute nodded vigorously.
“Of course!” Yazour muttered. “The kitchens! A passage leads to the back of the audience chamber, so that food can be brought there easily.”
Swiftly they made their plans. Aurian, with Bohan, Shia, and a small group of soldiers, would take the back rout£ and storm the chamber. Yazour and his men, when they heard her signal, would mount a frontal attack on the guards at the doors. Aurian quickly assembled her party and they slipped away, with Bohan leading.
In the kitchens, the terrified servants were being held by some half-dozen of the Khisu’s guards. If Aurian had expected any help from them, she was quickly cured of the notion. As soon as the fighting started, they took the opportunity to flee, keeping the widest possible distance between themselves and the tall, flame-haired warrior and her ferocious Demon. Occupied as she was with two soldiers who were bent on hacking her to pieces, the Mage could only hope they wouldn’t flee toward the throne room and give the game away. Panting, she backed toward the door, defending herself as best she could with the clumsy scimitar. Then the looming figure of Bohan appeared behind her assailants, and a great hand closed around each of their necks. Shia moved in to finish them, her claws ripping through flesh and guts. “This is fun!” she told Aurian.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” Aurian replied faintly, taking a much-needed minute to catch her breath. The place looked like a charnel house, and the ridiculous, flimsy robe in which Harihn had clad her was drenched with blood. The Mage made a quick tally of corpses. Good. All the enemy dead—and two of their own, she realized sadly. “Come on,” she summoned her remaining men, and they followed Bohan through the low doorway that had been hidden in the shadows of an alcove at the back of the kitchen.