"Y-yes," she said. Moving very slowly, she dropped to her haunches and set the sword on the floor. "I want to talk."
As soon as her hand left the hilt, she was plunged into blindness again. Unaware of the phaerimm's presence, Parth and the others continued to yell for her to open the door. Silently cursing them for fools as well as cowards, Vala kicked her darksword away and backed down the corridor. She was so terrified that her whole body was shaking. Without the sword, she could no longer see what the phaerimm was doing.
A bony hand clamped her shoulder. That is far enough, child.
Vala stopped and prayed it would not remove the helmet Escanor had given her. Without it, she would become the thrall it believed she was. Unless she lulled it into a false sense of security, she had no chance of killing it anyway. The things could cast spells as fast as she could think-maybe faster. You are not one of the Shadovar.
It was not a question. Did the phaerimm expect an answer? What are you?
"V–Vaasan," Vala replied. "My people owe them service."
Vala? the phaerimm asked. The one Escanor favors to carry his egg?
Vala had to concentrate to keep from gasping and asking how the phaerimm knew such a thing; instead, she merely nodded. What are you doing here?
"I refused him," Vala said, "and so he sent me to kill phaerimm."
At the top of the stairs, Parth had finally realized something was wrong and stopped pounding on the column. And could you?
Vala shook her head. "No!" At the moment, it was an honest answer. "Never again."
Again? The phaerimm seemed astonished, then said, But I forget who you are. How do you feel about him now? "I hate him." It was not far from the truth. Can you betray him?
"Perhaps," Vala said. A low rumble shook the ceiling as the false column began to slide aside. "He is very powerful."
7 will help you with that, the phaerimm said. Hold out your hand.
Vala extended both arms, palms up. She felt some-thing small and round pressed into her palm.
You will allow him to mount you, then press this to his back, the phaerimm said. It will rob him of his power. Do you understand? "Vala?" Parth called down the stairs. "Are you there?"
Vala did not dare shout a warning. "I understand," she said. "What?" Parth called.
She ignored him. "Then what, my master?" As she asked this, she called to her darksword in her mind. "Do I kill him?"
No! You sneak him into the woods, the phaerimm said. This will make it easy. "Vala, answer me, or we're coming down!" The darksword arrived. "Hurry!"
As Vala yelled this, she was already bringing the dark-sword across the phaerimm's midsection. Her dark vision returned and she saw a fang-filled mouth the size of a cavern yawning before her. Instead of trying to back away or strike again, she twirled along the phaerimm's thorny body and saw a fiery column scorch the stone where she had been standing. Reversing her grip as she moved, she drove her black blade through the thorn-back's midsection and rolled back in the opposite direction, using the edge of the wound as a fulcrum to pry the darksword through three feet of tough flesh and scaly thorn.
The corridor exploded into howling winds as the phaerimm bellowed its rage and brought its barbed tail around in a classic distraction maneuver. It was a fatal mistake. Vala was already vaulting onto its thorny back, lopping off first one, then two more flame-shooting hands. She brought the darksword down on the rim of its mouth, and the phaerimm dropped to the floor, its tail lashing ineffectually at the stone where it had expected her to be standing. She spun around and risked another blow from her same location, this time slicing the creature cleanly in two behind her.
The tail struck at the stone twice more, then fell limp and lay motionless. Vala took the precaution of slicing the thing into a few more pieces, then finally heard boots pounding down the stairs and turned to find the first pair of Shadovar legs descending into view. "Parth, take your time. The hard work-"
A loud thrum sounded from the stairwell, and a chorus of Shadovar voices cried out in astonishment. The first pair of legs buckled, then Parth's limp body tumbled into view. It was followed by Carlig's, Elar's, and four more, all that remained of the reconnaissance patrol.
Vala slipped over to the wall beneath the stairwell and pressed her back to the stone, darksword ready to lop off the next foot that came within reach. When none did, she hazarded a glance at the bodies at the base of the stairs. All seven Shadovar were dead, their faces, necks, and other areas of unarmored flesh flecked with tiny, cone-shaped darts. She waited a moment longer, then peered up into the spiraling stairwell itself. The steps were littered with spent darts, and the walls were flecked with the tiny holes from which they had come.
A voice at the top of the stairs, a voice so wispy that it seemed barely a hiss, called, "Eltargrim."
Vala ducked back out of sight, her heart pounding so hard that she could barely hear the darts clattering down the stairs as the newcomer kicked them out of the way. She wanted nothing more than to flee down the corridor as fast as her legs would carry her, but that would have been the worst thing she could do. The stranger knew she was there-had in fact whispered the password that kept her from meeting the same fate as the Shadovar- and whoever it was, he obviously knew the Irithlium far better than did Vala.
A chill came over Vala again. She raised her sword toward her helmet, wondering if Escanor would arrive quickly enough to save her if she touched the blade to one of the horns. Probably not-but maybe he would avenge her death or die himself at the hands of whatever was coming. Either way was fine, as far as Vala was concerned.
A bare foot appeared on the stair above Vala's head. Small and fine boned, it reminded her of an elf's foot, except that the flesh was so thin and white she could see the bone beneath, as well as the tendons and ligaments that made it move. The foot's mate appeared, also small and pale, with long broken nails hanging off the ends of the toes. Above the ankles hung the ragged cuffs of a pair of long-rotted trousers.
Vala grew so cold her flesh broke into goose bumps. Whatever this was, it could not be good. She took a deep breath and spun away from the wall, then brought her darksword around to strike the feet off at the ankles- and barely stopped her blade in time to keep it from burying itself in the stone steps. The feet were gone. But the cold was not.
Vala stepped away from the wall and found a small figure with alabaster skin and a willowy build watching her from the base of the stairs. Clothed in the tattered remains of what had once been a fine cowled robe, the stranger's features were sunken and shriveled, his eyes glowing orbs of pure white.
He pointed at Vala's sword, then wagged a bony finger and said, "You do not seem very fond of elves."
CHAPTER TEN
19 Mirtul, the Year of Wild Magic
The white elf turned his back to Vala and the dead Shadovar and started down the murky corridor. "Come."
Vala stood where she was and didn't move. She didn't even lower her sword.
"Come?" she gasped. "After you killed Parth and everyone else?"
"I did not kill them, woman. I saved you." The elf continued away, but his head turned to face her, his neck giving a mushy crackle as it traveled the last few inches to sit backward on his shoulders. "From what I saw, I will be of more use to you than they were." "Doing what?" Vala asked, starting after him. "Surviving."
The elf rotated his head forward again. Deciding there was truth in what he said, Vala lowered her guard and moved to within four paces of him, where his chill aura grew so uncomfortable she began to shiver. She had seen enough undead in the past six months to recognize him as some sort of lich, but his presence did not engender the same sense of fear and corruption she had experienced back in Karsus when she and Galaeron and their companions had fought the lich Wulgreth. What she wouldn't have given to have Galaeron at her side, with his Tomb Guard's knowledge of all things unliving-but the old Galaeron before he fell victim to the corrupting influence of the Shadow Weave. Gods, how she missed that one, the Galaeron who had been so steady and earnest and noble.