Weight of the Crown Page 21

  “What is she talking about?” queried another of the Sanctuary’s mages. “A demon-king, wyvern fire, the Purple?”

  “She’s just trying to incite distrust,” growled the Veil. “We had spies in an organization of male mages, that’s all.”

  The women behind her gasped.

  “I will tell you all about it after this woman is dead.”

  The Veil raised the dagger, and Ben could feel energy building around her.

  “I’m sorry I killed your son when we took the wyvern fire staff from that burning tower in the City,” shouted Ben, scrambling to push the Veil off her base and raise more doubt in her followers. “He died well, on the edge of this very longsword.”

  Lady Coatney spun to glare at him, a swirl of virulent power burning in her fist. She raised her arm, as if indecisive about whether to strike at him or Avril.

  “I’m sorry I killed your undead lapdog Eldred as well,” Ben said, holding up his arm. “She took a piece of my flesh before I ripped her head off. Do your followers know you utilized banned rituals from the Society of the Burning Hand?”

  A brilliant streak of white hot power speared toward Ben. He stumbled back, scrambling to harden his will, but it shattered against a protective bubble half a dozen paces away from him. Amelie gripped his hand hard, her eyes still shut.

  “Thanks,” he whispered.

  “That wasn’t me,” she replied quietly.

  Coatney turned to Avril.

  “Society of the Burning Hand, Coatney?” chided the former Veil, a sly smile curling her lips. She brushed a lock of hair back over her shoulder with one delicate hand. Her other hand, balled into a fist, was the only sign her smile and pleasant tone was an act. “You know the punishment for enacting those rituals is death. In fact, I believe that is a crime that doesn’t even require a trial. Isn’t that right, Lady Elin? Any practitioner of that dark knowledge is deemed too dangerous to live long enough for a trial.”

  “Did he say Eldred?” asked one of the women.

  “You were deposed by the knife!” snapped Coatney, glaring at Avril. “You have no authority in the Sanctuary any longer.”

  “I’m still here,” retorted Lady Avril. “Your knives failed to find my back.”

  “What was he saying about Eldred and the wyvern fire?” pressed another of the followers, a hint of fear and frustration creeping into the woman’s voice.

  “Coatney,” murmured a woman on the right hand of the Veil, Lady Elin, Ben thought. “Is that true? Did you use death magic?”

  “Enough of this,” growled Coatney.

  A burst of sparks exploded from her body, flying away from her and forming into a cloud of a dozen spinning, brilliant stars. A dozen stars for a dozen of her followers. In a heartbeat, the stars flew back, sweeping past the Veil, slicing into her mages and shredding them in an explosion of flesh, blood, and bone.

  Startled screams were cut off in a heartbeat. The stars crackled and popped, vanishing into the air as wet viscera slapped down onto the marble floor. Lady Coatney’s minions were nothing more than torn, ruined meat and shattered bone.

  Lady Avril whistled softly. “That was rather impressive.”

  “You killed your own mages,” stated Ben, a tremor causing his voice to crack.

  “I don’t need them,” said Coatney, her eyes locked on Avril. She drew herself up and then nodded to the side. Three hooded shapes emerged from a dark door.

  “More Eldreds!” exclaimed Ben.

  “Not Eldred,” responded Coatney coldly. “You destroyed her body. These will do just as well, though.”

  In unison, the three figures pushed back their hoods, and Ben saw pure-white, porcelain masks covering what he was sure were the faces of corpses.

  Lady Avril gripped her hands in front of her, all traces of her lascivious smile gone, replaced by a look of grave concern. “Coatney, what have you done?”

  “They’re dead women,” called Ben. “She’s reanimated them using lost rituals from the Society of the Burning Hand.”

  “I-I didn’t think you really—"

  Lady Coatney chuckled. “The boy is right, Avril. I did use that ancient magic, and it is a crime. That won’t help you, though. We are far from the Sanctuary and its laws. By the end of today, perhaps you can join my growing army?”

  Avril closed her fist.

  In a fraction of a heartbeat, the blade in Coatney’s hand – the repository – glowed bright red then white hot. With a yelp, the Veil dropped it, and the dagger shattered on the floor. Shaking her hand and grimacing in pain, Coatney stared at Lady Avril in shock.

  “I could have done that at any time since you took it,” remarked the former Veil with a sneer. “I wanted to see your face, though, when I did. I wanted to see you relying on that power and the look in your eyes when you realized it was gone.”

  From a pouch on her belt, Avril withdrew a palm-sized copper disc. Even from across the room, Ben could see the surface was coated in hundreds of tiny runes. It was the same repository she had in Whitehall.

  “I barely had the chance to use this last time we met,” said Avril. “With this, I am far stronger than you, Coatney. Such arrogance, showing your face to me, away from your protections. I hope your last thought is about how much of a fool you have been.”

  The three porcelain-masked figures stepped in front of Coatney.

  “More powerful than me, maybe,” admitted the Veil. “There is much you do not know, though, old friend. Our former colleagues have become living repositories, charged on death. You thought in Whitehall you were hurting me, slaughtering those innocents? You are the fool! You were powering my army. Every death that happens here only makes them stronger.”

  “Army?” Avril sneered. “I see only three of them.”

  “That is all I need,” crowed Coatney. “The three of these… things are more powerful than any of my living mages.”

  Ben squeezed Amelie’s hand.

  “I need you with me now,” he whispered.

  She opened her eyes, blinking, and gagged when she saw the three undead mages, the two Veils squaring off against each other, and the splatter of gore behind Lady Coatney.

  “Oh my,” she murmured.

  “Did it work?”

  “It did,” she confirmed.

  “Are you strong enough for what comes next?” asked Ben.

  “I-I guess we’ll find out,” stammered Amelie.

  “You will be strong enough,” said Towaal, appearing at Amelie’s side with Prem.

  Rhys and O’ecca came to stand beside Ben.

  “You were supposed to flee,” he hissed.

  “And miss this?” responded O’ecca. “I don’t think so.”

  “I am tired of listening to this,” growled Coatney to Avril, her eyes darting between her rival and Ben’s friends. “Should we eliminate them before attending to our own business?”

  “Of course, go ahead,” said Avril, regaining a glimmer of her smile. “I can wait.”

  Coatney frowned.

  “Whatever happens next,” declared Ben loudly. “Neither one of you will be Veil.”

  “I am the Veil,” said Coatney, keeping her eyes locked on Lady Avril, refusing to look at Ben.

  “Not for long,” declared Ben. “There’s a full meeting of all the mages in the Sanctuary happening right now. Lady Hadra and some friends of ours called the guardians left for there the moment we departed Whitehall. Hadra assembled the meeting as we were walking into the Thieves’ Guild. Amelie’s been practicing thought melds with Hadra and the guardians for the last several weeks. Your mages heard what Amelie heard. After what you just admitted to, I don’t think you’re going to find a welcome home back in the City.”

  “What!” exclaimed Coatney, spinning to face Ben.

  Avril struck.

  All of the furniture and decorations in the room exploded into a swirling cloud of debris. Like a swarm of bees, it was flung at Coatney in a hail of splinters, shards of metal, and heat.

/>   In an instant, a bubble of flame ignited around the Veil, whooshing into existence from nothing. The undead mages arrayed in front of her were slower to react, and shrapnel lanced into them before they raised defenses. The one in the middle took the brunt of the attack while the other two staggered out of the path of the flying debris.

  Ben watched, mouth agape, fighting down bile, as the undead mage’s head was shredded into loose tatters of desiccated skin and crushed bone. The broken skull fragments, and then body parts, of the undead mage were swept up in the howling windstorm and joined the hail of objects flying at Lady Coatney. In moments, all of the wooden and fabric materials in the room had been incinerated against the bubble of flame around the Veil, and small pools of melted metal scattered around her fiery cocoon.

  Avril dropped her arms, hatred in her eyes.

  The two remaining undead mages stumbled, their dead jaws working silently as they recovered from the abuse to their bodies. They were ripped and torn, but the things had already been dead, and as far as Ben could tell, they felt no pain. He knew from experience it would take more than that to finish them.

  The fire winked out from around Coatney, and she stood unharmed, glaring at her nemesis.

  “Was that all you’ve got?” she asked, ice in her voice.

  “No,” said Avril. Gripping her repository in one hand, she balled the other into a tight fist and swung it at the air. The force of her blow continued, though, and Ben stepped back as another of the undead mages took a punch of pure force directly to its face, crumpling its skull with a dry crunch, like a crumbling cracker.

  Coatney swept her hands, and an arc of brilliant lightning blazed across the room, snapping around Avril but not coming within a pace of her body.

  “You don’t have the strength to face me, do you?” sneered Avril.

  The remaining undead mage, finally recovered, opened its mouth and hissed. The hiss turned into a cry, the cry into a wail, the wail into a piercing shriek that stabbed painfully into Ben’s ears. The deafening sound drove Ben to his knees and reverberated through the room. Hands over his ears, Ben crouched, trying to squirm away from the horrific wail.

  Around him, Ben’s friends staggered in surprise. O’ecca screamed, and Prem stepped in front of the lady from the South Continent. She reached back with a hand, placing it on her. Tears filled the former guardian’s eyes, but she was holding up against the aural assault better than Ben.

  The attack wasn’t directed at them, though. The undying howl was aimed directly at Lady Avril, and Ben’s friends were merely collateral damage. The former Veil stumbled several steps back, her hands raising involuntarily, trying to block the noise from penetrating into her. Blood leaked from her ears, where her eardrums had burst, and she opened her own mouth, confusion and fear evident on her face.

  The undead mage advanced, its mouth open, its awful scream unabating.

  Trembling, Avril raked her hand, and to Ben’s horror, the second undead mage, the one with the flattened head, rose to its feet and pounced on the surviving one. It raised a bony fist and brought it down, pounding the other in the side of the skull, cutting off the ear-shattering cry.

  Clawing, grabbing, and punching at each other, the two corpses battled, stumbling and sliding across the floor toward Ben and his friends. Ben took an involuntary step back as the horrors lurched closer.

  “I’m done with these things,” growled Rhys.

  His longsword flared bright, the runes sparkling and bathing the room in a silver glow. He twirled the blade and leapt forward, delivering a powerful horizontal strike. His mage-wrought longsword sheared through both undead corpse’s heads in one blow. Instantly, their battle stopped, and they fell to the floor with a clatter of lifeless bones and dried flesh.

  “That had better be the last of them,” muttered the rogue.

  Lady Coatney’s eyes remained fixed on Avril. She flexed her fingers and drew a deep breath. “Let’s see how much you have left.”

  Avril, unable to hear a word the Veil was saying, launched a crackling fireball and then spun to flee.

  Coatney brushed the attack aside, her eyes shining bright with triumph. She gestured, and the doors at the far end of the room slammed shut, cutting off Avril’s escape route.

  Turning, the pretty blond raised her hands.

  Coatney raised hers in a similar gesture.

  Lightning burst in violent streaks, flashing back and forth between the women. Bolt after bolt, blow after blow, they rained attacks on each other, Coatney advancing, Avril stumbling in retreat.

  Amelie stepped forward, but Towaal grabbed her arm. They watched as the Veil closed on her rival, her blows coming faster and faster. Even to Ben, it was clear she was getting the best of Avril.

  The former Veil shook her head, reeling from the strikes. She rallied under the barrage of lightning and tried to stand, then the disc in her hands cracked. Ben gasped as Coatney took a final step forward. She slapped the broken disc from her rival’s fist and wrapped her hands around the blond woman’s neck.

  “I’m glad this is the way it’s ending,” she growled, tightening her grip.

  Avril’s hands shot up to grab Coatney’s wrists, but she was wounded and powerless. She’d used the last of her strength of will defending against the lightning. She was spent, physically and mentally.

  The Veil, hatred locked on her face, squeezed harder, and Avril dropped to her knees, her face reddening.

  “W-We have to—” stammered Amelie.

  “No,” said Lady Towaal. “Rhys told me your plan. Can you link to our allies at the Sanctuary again?”

  “I-I believe so,” responded Amelie, her eyes falling shut. After a moment, she said, “I’ve got them.”

  “Relay my words to Hadra when the time comes,” instructed Towaal.

  Quietly, Ben and his friends watched as the Veil choked the life out of her foe, strangling the woman to death on the battle-scarred marble floor. Finally, Lady Coatney let go, her hands leaving angry, red impressions on Avril’s milk-white skin. Coatney stood and faced Ben and his friends, a look of dark satisfaction marring her pretty face.

  She glanced at Amelie. “She’s projecting to the Sanctuary again?”

  “She is,” confirmed Towaal.

  Lady Coatney smirked. “Then I suppose it’s time for me to leave.”

  “No, Coatney,” said Towaal, her voice booming with command. “It is time for you to be judged.”

  “Judged by you?” asked Coatney with a grim laugh. “You plan to end me now, is it, so you can take the Veil?”

  “I plan to end you,” agreed Towaal. “The Veil will be granted as it always has, by vote.”

  “Have you lined up your support, Karina?” asked the Veil, drawing up to her full height. “If you haven’t, and you don’t watch them constantly, they’ll stab you in the back. They’ll start plotting against you the moment that flimsy fabric falls across your face. I wish I could watch it happen.”

  “I have no designs on your position, Coatney,” replied Towaal. She stepped toward the woman, the leader of the Sanctuary, and declared, “A quorum of mages is gathered in the Sanctuary at this moment. I submit that you’ve betrayed your vow to be the Veil between our world and the dark one. I submit you’ve delved into secrets that have been banned to our members. You’ve used your position to enact you own evil schemes, and I ask that the assembled mages sentence you to death.”

  Lady Coatney’s lips twisted into a feral smile. “You think you have the strength to carry out that sentence, Karina? You’ve never been stronger than I.”

  “The mages agree,” said Amelie, her eyes still closed. “The sentence is death.”

  “I suppose I should be proud,” remarked Lady Coatney, shaking her hands out and stretching her neck. “Any other time, it would have taken those scared hens several weeks to return a death sentence against a sitting Veil. It seems you did line up your supporters in advance.”

  “I did not,” said Towaal. “They saw wh
at you’ve done here. They know the evil in your heart.”

  “Then I hope they’re ready for the war I will bring,” snarled Coatney. She raised a hand and a blast of bitter cold flew toward Towaal, moisture freezing in an instant and forming into a narrow spear of ice.

  Towaal crossed her arms and tried to hold stasis, but the attack hit her with a force she wasn’t prepared for. She was blown off her feet, landing heavily on her back.

  “You cannot match my will, Karina!” crowed Lady Coatney.

  “Try me,” stated Amelie calmly, opening her eyes and stepping between Coatney and Towaal.

  “Out of the way, Initiate,” snapped the Veil.

  “No.”

  Amelie curled her hands, and heat swirled around the Veil. The woman contemptuously raised her arms, and her eyes widened in surprise. Amelie held Coatney’s gaze, and the heat swirled in closer, shimmering in the air. From across the room, Ben could feel it against his face. He stepped away from Amelie, seeing she had the matter in hand and knowing he wouldn’t have the strength to stop any of the Veil’s counterattacks.

  “No!” shouted Lady Coatney. “You cannot do this. You are not strong enough!”

  Amelie brought her hands together, slowly, like she was squeezing a stubborn object, and the flame swirled closer to the Veil. Sweat was popping out on the woman’s forehead, and she screamed incredulously.

  “Knowledge and will,” stated Amelie through gritted teeth. “You have the knowledge, but you do not have a strong enough will. You cannot stop this.”

  The Veil snarled and pushed her arms out, forcing the fire away.

  Amelie’s brow furrowed, and she pushed her hands in again. The fire licked at the Veil’s outstretched arms.

  The woman cried out in agony, and the flame closed. A sharp, bitter scream erupted from her throat, and Amelie clapped her hands together. The inferno responded and raged around the Veil. Pressing her hands together, Amelie held the pose, and the roaring fire burned hotter. The pained scream rose, a counterpoint to the awful wail of the undead mage. Then it wavered, and then it stopped.

  Amelie relaxed her hands and let them fall to her waist. The body of the Veil fell to the floor, merely a sickening pile of ash and char. Little flames danced on her smoking ruin..