Cursed Bones

chapter 9



She woke in a round room with a single barred window and a trapdoor in the floor. She was lying on a pallet with several furs covering her. The air was cold … she could see her breath in the dim light streaming through the window. Aside from the pallet and furs, the room was completely empty. She checked her boots and found her knives were gone.

She was defenseless.

Still wearing the clothes she’d been dressed in during the meeting with her advisors, she stood and wrapped a fur blanket around her to ward off the chill air. From the tiny window, she could see the ocean below, bleak and foreboding, low clouds blanketing the world to the horizon. Light snow was sporadically whipped into a frenzy by sudden gusts of frigid air.

She went to the trapdoor and tried to open it but it held fast, as she knew it would. She knocked on the door, but got no response, so she sat back down and tried to think of a way out of her predicament.

An hour later, she heard the sound of boots on stone from below, followed by the scraping of metal on metal, and then the trapdoor opened. One of Zuhl’s brutes eyed her with a menacing grin and grunted while motioning for her to follow him.

With a sigh of resignation, Abigail wrapped a fur around her and followed the big man down the corkscrew staircase to the level below. There were four guards in the chamber. Each stared at her in open challenge—she ignored them.

The brute led her through the halls of a keep until he came to a large set of double doors, which opened to a sparsely furnished and somewhat cold room, though warmer than the little tower room where she’d awoken. Zuhl sat at a table with an assortment of foods arrayed before him, all served on fine porcelain dishes.

“Good morning, Lady Abigail,” he said, dismissing the soldier with a gesture. “I trust you slept well.”

She scanned the room, looking for a weapon or an opportunity to escape, anything she could use against Zuhl, but found nothing. She decided to be bold. The temperature of the room didn’t warrant the fur blanket, so she shrugged it off, letting it fall to the floor without a second look. Then she walked to the table and sat down.

“Well enough, considering,” she said as she took an empty plate from a stack and started piling food on it.

He almost smiled, but not quite.

“I have a number of questions for you,” he said. “Most are simply matters of curiosity, a few are of strategic importance. You will answer them all, one way or another.”

Abigail shrugged as she took a big bite of biscuit dripping with blackberry jam. “Maybe,” she said around a mouthful.

He stopped and looked at her, not a simple glance, but really looked at her as if seeing into the essence of her being. Abigail was reminded of Alexander and the way he could look into a person and assess their true nature.

“What were you thinking when you jumped from your wyvern and attacked me in midflight?” Zuhl asked, his penetrating gaze searching her face intently as he awaited her answer.

“I was thinking it was the only way to kill you,” Abigail answered, preparing another biscuit.

“The odds of success were so slim as to be improbable,” Zuhl said. “Failure was almost certain death, yet you didn’t hesitate. Why?”

“I told you, it was the only way,” Abigail said.

“I don’t understand,” Zuhl said, shaking his head slightly, a deep frown creasing his pale brow.

“What choice did I have?” Abigail said. “No one else had any chance at all against that dragon. I was the only one who could do what needed to be done, so I did.”

“You could have retreated, you could have sued for peace and offered terms for a truce, you could have ignored the dragon and focused on the land battle, you could have sent your Sky Knights against me, you could have surrendered, or better yet, you could have stayed on Ruatha where you belong, yet you chose to engage me when you are clearly not my equal.”

“I cut you in half, didn’t I?”

“That you did,” Zuhl said. “I must admit, I would have been more cautious had I been aware that your brother had given you the Thinblade, another perplexing development. Why would he do such a thing?”

“He didn’t think he could be both the Sovereign of the Seven Isles and the King of Ruatha at the same time.”

“Why not?” Zuhl asked, leaning in with great interest. “Not that I accept his claim as sovereign mind you, but I’m very curious about his motivations. Were I in his shoes, I would never relinquish either the Sovereign Stone or the Thinblade.”

“No, I don’t suppose you would,” Abigail said with a little smile.

“Why would he?”

“It created a conflict,” Abigail said. “He couldn’t rule Ruatha as king and still expect the other island kings to accept him as sovereign.”

Zuhl’s frown grew even deeper.

“Power is not about seeking the acceptance of those you rule, it’s about imposing your will upon them, whether they like it or not,” he said.

This time it was Abigail’s turn to shake her head. “You don’t get it, do you? He doesn’t want power any more than I do … he just wants to live his life and be left alone.”

Zuhl stared at her as if trying to reconcile two versions of reality that couldn’t coexist before shaking his head in frustration.

“Back to your reasons for engaging me,” he said. “My questions for your brother are best saved for him, should we have the pleasure of a conversation before I claim victory over him. Why would you risk your life when you had such little chance of success?”

Abigail put her biscuit down and fixed Zuhl with a glare. “Because I’d committed good people to a battle that they were going to lose as long as you were riding Ixabrax. Killing you was the only way to save them from defeat … and the only way to get to your ships.”

Zuhl shook his head again. “Your motivations escape me. I don’t understand why you would risk your life for the safety of your subjects—their place is to serve you, your place is to command them, not die for them.”

“You have it exactly backwards, Zuhl,” Abigail said. “My place is to serve them, to protect them from the ambitions of tyrants like you.”

“I don’t comprehend you at all,” Zuhl said. “Things I don’t understand make me uneasy.”

“Good,” Abigail said, punctuating her statement with another bite of biscuit.

He glared at her for a moment before composing himself again and beginning a new line of questioning.

“You mentioned Ixabrax. Why didn’t you kill him? Why set him free? How could you know that he wouldn’t turn against you the moment you cut his collar?”

“I didn’t,” Abigail said with a shrug, “but I trusted my instincts and it paid off. He sank one of your ships for me.”

“You gave up your one chance to strike on a hunch?”

“Yeah, I guess I did,” Abigail said. “I met a dragon once before … she was a magnificent creature. It turned my stomach to think of her in a collar like Ixabrax, so I cut him loose.”

“You take great risks without due consideration of the consequences,” Zuhl said.

“I’ve heard that before … from my father no less,” Abigail said. “Tell me something, why are you doing this? What do you want?”

“I want what everyone wants, immortality and the worship of every living soul,” Zuhl said.

Abigail stared at him, mouth agape for a moment before she burst out laughing. “You’ve got to be kidding,” she said, still laughing.

“No, I’m not,” he said, looking somewhat offended by her impertinence. “Don’t you want to live forever?”

Abigail frowned and cocked her head to the side for a moment. “Huh, I hadn’t really thought about it. Death is just a part of life, part of the natural cycle. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to die, certainly not anytime soon, but I’ve always known my life would end someday.”

“What if it didn’t have to?” Zuhl asked, leaning in again. “What would you do for the chance to live forever?”

“I don’t really know,” Abigail said.

“I do,” Zuhl said. “I’ll do anything I have to.”

“I guess that’s the difference between us,” Abigail said. “There are some things I love more than my own life.”

Zuhl looked down at his plate, shaking his head again.

“Why did your brother commit the bulk of his forces to defending Fellenden?” he asked, changing the subject abruptly.

“Because your barbarians were killing innocent people,” Abigail said.

“But Fellenden is nothing to you or your brother,” Zuhl said. “Phane is your enemy. He’s attacked you again and again, yet you declare war on me when I’ve done nothing to provoke you. Again, I don’t understand.”

“It’s really very simple, Zuhl, you were hurting innocent people and we had the power to stop you, so we did.”

“When doing so puts your own people in jeopardy? Even now, Phane is building his strength in Warrenton. When the spring thaw comes, he’ll overrun your forces and his Lancers will be free to wreak havoc throughout northern Ruatha, all while your forces are mired in Fellenden.”

“Alexander’s looking at the bigger picture,” Abigail said. “If we’d permitted you to build your fleet, we wouldn’t have had a chance in the long run. He made a sound strategic decision with full knowledge of the potential consequences.”

“Perhaps,” Zuhl said, nodding slightly. “At least such an explanation is based on reason, more so than some of his other decisions. Where is he now?”

“I wish I knew,” Abigail said, putting her biscuit down. “He was going to talk to a dragon, last I knew, but he could be anywhere by now.”

“Tanis? The bronze dragon who rules in the Pinnacles?”

“No, Bragador, on Tyr,” Abigail said.

“The chromatic dragons—why would he go to them?” Zuhl asked. “They’re even less interested in the affairs of men than the bronze dragons.”

Abigail realized she’d said too much. Zuhl didn’t know about the Nether Gate, and she had no intention of being the one to tell him.

“Isabel’s been infected by one of Phane’s minions,” Abigail said. “Alexander’s gone to collect the ingredients for a potion that will heal her.” A half-truth made for a better lie than an outright fiction.

“He sends his sister to wage war against me, leaves his home to fend for itself, and ventures off to bargain with a dragon to save his woman?” Zuhl scoffed. “I find that hard to believe. No man worthy of being called a Lord would make such poor strategic judgments. There must be more—he must have another purpose.”

“If he does, I don’t know what it is,” Abigail lied.

Zuhl scrutinized her closely, his eyes narrowing before he nodded.

“Your brother has a gift for seeing colors,” Zuhl said. “As I understand it, his magical vision offers him insight into the nature and intentions of others. Quite a powerful skill. When I learned of it, I developed a spell that accomplishes a similar result, though through very different means. I cast that spell just before you arrived. Up until now, you have answered my questions truthfully, but you just lied to me. Why?”

Abigail smiled and sat back, picking up her glass of juice. “There are some things we’d rather you didn’t know,” she said.

He almost smiled, although without any mirth. “Naturally,” he said. “No matter. Once we arrive at Whitehall, I will have you interrogated properly. You will tell me everything I wish to know, and I assure you it won’t be pleasant.”

“You can torture me if you like,” Abigail said, “but it won’t do you any good.” She tried to remain calm even as she quailed inside. The prospect of torture was terrifying.

“You just lied to me again,” Zuhl said.

“Did you really expect me to answer all of your questions?” she said.

“Of course not,” he said. “As for torture, that’s such a crude means of persuasion, and not entirely reliable. No, I have a far more effective method in mind. You see, in the northern wastes of the Isle of Zuhl lives a most remarkable creature. Those who live in the area call it an ice slug. Harmless creature, but the slime it exudes has a most powerful effect when imbibed. It seems to release all inhibitions, eliminate all guile, and induce a state of mind that is utterly incapable of lying. So you see, there is really no point in attempting to deceive me, as I will have the answers I seek.”

“Maybe … but not today,” Abigail said.

“Very well, perhaps another line of questioning is in order,” Zuhl said. “What did Alexander find in the Stone’s Wizard’s Den?”

“I have no idea,” Abigail said. “I haven’t seen him in a while. Truth is, I didn’t even know he’d gotten into the Wizard’s Den yet.”

“Fair enough,” Zuhl said. “I have reason to believe there is a book of great interest to me, either in the Stone’s Wizard’s Den or the sovereigns’ library within the Reishi Keep. I intend to make a trade with your brother … you for that book. Provided he delivers it to me before the winter solstice.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Abigail said, “but if this book you’re looking for is where you think it is, I doubt Alexander will ever give it to you.”

“Fortunately, I have a contingency,” Zuhl said. “I’m a firm believer in backup plans and redundancies. If I don’t receive the book by the solstice, then I will consume your life force in my yearly rejuvenation sacrifice. Either way, I get something I need.”

Abigail swallowed hard, trying to calculate how many days remained before the shortest day of the year.

“You have just over three weeks,” Zuhl said. “That should be more than enough time. Not to worry, I’ve already sent word to your forces. I trust they will relay the message with haste.”

A thousand questions and concerns vied for attention within her mind but one rose to the top of the list. “What’s so important about this book?”

“Ah, I’m glad you asked,” Zuhl said. “I must say, Lady Abigail, I’m enjoying our conversation immensely. There’s no one on the entire Isle of Zuhl who would dare to address me so casually, so simply. I find it refreshing … novel even.

“I am very old, seven hundred and twenty-eight years old, to be precise. Over the centuries, I have collected a great number of very rare works, many unique. I’m especially interested in the journals of wizards. You would be surprised the things you can learn about magic from the musings of long-dead wizards.

“One in particular has haunted me for centuries. A wizard named Jacinth. He was the lead assistant to Malachi Reishi in his research laboratory. He spoke of a spell that Malachi was developing in his last days, a spell that Jacinth had helped him create, a spell that I simply must have. Jacinth wrote that he watched Malachi pen the spellbook himself and saw him store it away inside his Wizard’s Den. He called it the ‘Lich Book,’ a spell of such potency that Malachi killed all of the researchers who helped him develop it once it was complete, even Jacinth. The last entry tells how Malachi permitted Jacinth to take a poison that would kill him painlessly in honor of his years of loyal service.

“This book contains a spell that is the key to true immortality, and I must have it.”

“And you think Alexander is just going to give it to you?”

“He will if he values your life,” Zuhl said. “If not, then I’ll find a way to take it from him.”

“I doubt it,” Abigail said. “Just for the sake of argument, how is this immortality spell supposed to work?”

“Therein lies the genius,” Zuhl said, sitting back comfortably. “The spell transfers one’s life essence into a phylactery, a specially prepared item designed to store a soul, while animating the now dead body with the person’s awareness, will, and power. Through death, eternal life is found. It’s perfect. Since your body is already dead, it can never be killed. Not only would this spell grant immortality, but near invulnerability as well. It is the god-maker spell that I have been searching for all my life.”

“If Alexander actually has this book, and he has any idea what it does, I guarantee he won’t trade,” Abigail said.

“Perhaps not,” Zuhl said, standing and placing a vial of slightly blue liquid on the table. “This is dragon draught; it will ward you against the cold.”

“What cold?” Abigail asked, suddenly wary.

“We’re leaving Irondale for Whitehall,” Zuhl said. “You’ll ride with me on Izzulft. I assure you, the journey will kill you without the dragon draught.”

Abigail hesitated, looking at the vial, then at Zuhl.

“I can have that rather large man who brought you here make you drink it if you prefer.”

She scowled at him but quaffed the potion with a sigh of resignation. A chill flowed into her, filling her with a coldness that seemed to encompass her entire body, yet without discomfort.

He led her to a battlement where Izzulft was waiting and shackled her to his saddle before mounting up behind her and launching into the cold grey sky.