Delgar pointed to the ledge, which connected to theworkroom’s outer wall about six feet from the new opening.
“Find a plank, anything we can use as a bridge.”
Before Fox could turn away, Vishni, framed by wingsthe color of a summer sky, burst from the tower’s highest window.She held a shining object in her hand and waved it triumphantly asshe flitted toward the workshop.
A small storm of arrows rose to greet her.
Fox screamed in denial as the fairy plummeted towardthe sea.
One small, flailing hand found purchase on the stoneledge. Vishni tossed the dagger onto the walkway to free her otherhand. She clung to the edge and wailed. Arrows protruded from herside, her shoulder, her thigh. Her wings draped her like a torn andbloody cloak.
Honor pushed past him and leaped through the openingin the wall. She landed on the ledge and and ran toward the fairy,as sure-footed as a bird on a limb.
She left behind her a spatter trail of blood and ahorrified thief.
He’d caught sight of the deep cut on her arm.
And the clockwork gears beneath.
Everything fell suddenly, horribly into place. Theonly adept who could possibly create a clockwork creature of suchsubtlety and complexity was Rhendish.
Shock flared into fury, then firmed into resolve.
“I’m going after Vishni,” Fox said.
“The elf’s got her,” Delgar said. “Let her handlethis.”
He shook his head. “She’s going after thedagger.”
Delgar pointed toward the courtyard. Some signal hadalerted the human guards to the clockwork knights’ destruction.Armed men stormed into the inner bailey.
“Make it fast.”
Fox hurried to Muldoony’s worktable and heaved itover on its side. Delgar got the idea right away. He pulled a smallaxe from his belt and with a few quick blows reduced the table tolong wooden planks. He and Fox carried one to the shattered walland slid it through the opening to form a bridge to the stoneledge.
“The sands are shifting,” Avidan said.
Fox glanced back. The alchemist held up a smallhourglass to indicate how much time they had left. He’d alreadyadded something of his own to Muldonny’s solvent, an alchemicalbrew that would create an explosion big enough to seal off theworkroom.
A disturbing thought leapt into Fox’s mind. “I addedmetal to that vat the last time we were here. Will that make adifference?”
The alchemist’s eyes widened. It was more expressionthan Fox had seen on his face in four years.
“You two go now,” Fox said, pointing to the shaft.“We’ll be right behind you.”
He stepped out onto the board and teetereddangerously. The next step was better. When he got to the stoneledge he spread his arms out wide for balance and concentrated onputting one foot in front of the other.
He was halfway there when the explosion shook thefortress.
Fragile rock crumbled under his feet. He saw Honorpitch forward. The dagger flew from her hand in a wide, shiningarc.
Vishni was gone.
Fox searched for the fairy as he plunged toward thesea, but saw no trace of her. He took a certain grim satisfactionin knowing that the dagger would either shatter or be lost in thewater. Either result was fine with him.
He heard the splash as Honor hit the water.
That was fine with him, too.
Dark water closed over him with a roar that rivaledthe explosion. Fox felt the pain of impact in every fiber as hesank deep into the cold northern sea.
Finally, his descent slowed. He blew out the scantremaining air in his lungs little by little as he clawed his waytoward the sun.
He broke the surface and dragged in air with longpainful gasps. A wave broke over him, leaving him sputtering andcoughing. He knew he should swim, but his arms refused to obeyhim.
“Hold on. Almost there,” a man shouted.
A small fishing boat came toward him. Relief sweptthrough Fox and lent him the strength to reach for the line thefisherman threw him.
His rescuer hauled in the line. As Fox neared theboat, he noticed a slash of paint over the place where the boat’sname was usually written. He lifted his gaze to the man in theboat. As he feared, the man had a long blond beard, a crooked scaron his forehead, and a nose that Fox had recently broken.
The last thing Fox saw was the man’s scowl ofrecognition, and the oar he lifted high overhead.
Chapter Ten: Sundered Stone
Delgar stood at the mouth of the sea cave and watchedwith grim face and clenched jaw as the fairy, minus the illusion ofarrow wounds and tattered wings, landed lightly on the rocky shoreand ran to him like a child who expected to be caught up andtwirled.
“I have the dagger!” she called, holding the shiningthing overhead.
The dwarf snatched it from her hand and turned to thecave. He stalked toward the tunnel, the fairy trotting at hisheels.
“You’re in a foul mood,” she said.
“That happens when I watch two friends die becausesomeone decided to ‘improve the story’ with a daringrescue.”
“Two friends?” she said. “Suddenly you like theelf?”
“I admire courage and integrity.” He shot her a darklook. “And I like people who can think of something, anything,beyond the possibility that a stupid and dangerous game might befun.”
Vishni flung the back of her hand against herforehead in a parody of a swoon. “So much drama, so little cause!Fox is fine. I saw a fisherman pick him up.”
“What about the elf?”
The fairy shrugged. “Ask Fox about her when hereturns to the den.”
Avidan stood in the tunnel ahead, milling one arm ina circle to urge them to hurry. Delgar broke into a run.
“The explosion did its job too well,” the alchemistsaid. “It took out half the wall and exposed much of the oublietteshaft. Muldonny’s men will be able to follow us into thetunnels.”
Delgar surveyed the opening. The too-hurried mininghad stressed the stone, and the too-powerful explosion caused thewalls on either side of the opening into the shaft to crumble. Theresulting gap was too wide for him to seal using stoneshift.
A shout of discovery echoed from the ruins above.
“If you can close the tunnel, do it now,” Avidansaid.
Delgar glanced at the dagger. It was smeared withHonor’s blood, yet the rose within remained closed and pale. If thedagger’s magic had been amplified by contact with a traitor’sblood, he would not dare awaken its power.
He took a deep breath and pointed the Thorn at thesundered stone.
Power sang through his blood and bones in a song ofstoneshifting beyond anything he’d ever imagined.
Delgar joined the song, blending with it until he wasnot certain where his voice ended and the Thorn’s picked up. Neverhad he experienced anything like this joining-terrifying,wonderful, intoxicating.
Boulders faded into mist and flowed to fill theopening. The tunnel wall slammed into place with a booming crash.Delgar instinctively knew that solid rock stretched to the far sideof the oubliette shaft, encasing bones and metal limbs like relicsof an ancient sea.
And still the power came.
Delgar sent it upward, melting stone and mortar untilthe mountain creaked and leaned to fill the gap. The men climbingdown into the shaft cursed and screamed as solid rock seized theirfeet and rose to encase their bodies.
Their screams faded into silence. No pursuersremained; the tunnels were secure.
But the fortress above remained-the fortress thathad played so important a role in the adepts’s control of Sevrin,and in the reign of Eldreath before them, and in the service of thewarlords who ruled before him. Delgar could bring it down.The song of destruction and renewal sang in his ears like a lustfulmermaid.