Chapter 16
SINAN
S inan was none too pleased with either the weather or his companions.
The wind had picked up, and flakes of snow swirled around them.
The change from the warm fall temperatures outside the mist was striking, and it had to be from the Artifact.
Weather control was a rare and dangerous talent, and his shadow magic wouldn’t help him overcome it.
The dead Sorcier du Roi, Zhang Jue, had been known for that skill, but Sinan had never heard of a necromancer with similar talents.
Of course, he was more likely to face danger from the Tomb Fighters than the cold.
Meri had taken a small lead, and Gallmau was behind him, so Sinan was boxed in by the two of them.
He had no idea why the Lioness was so furious with him.
It could be she was regretting her choice to work with one of the Blessed, or maybe seeing Naghwe again had caused the outburst. His mother had that effect on people.
He considered shadow-walking away from the two of them and traveling to the hunting lodge his way.
That had its risks, though. Whoever controlled the Artifact had used it to set up powerful shadow wards around Terra Amata, which had made entry through the arch with Gallmau and Meri his only option.
There could be additional shadow wards around the chateau.
Plus, if the lodge wasn’t where Rixende was being held, he would be searching for her alone, without the assistance the Tomb Fighters could provide.
The prince had given him the map—touching Sinan’s wrist in the process, damn him—but the piece of paper was nothing next to the knowledge the prince had of this area and his sister.
Sinan was glad he had put on his gloves, and not only because of the decreasing temperatures.
Gallmau didn’t appear capable of interacting with him without physical contact.
The brush of the prince’s fingers against Sinan’s ear in the Synod meeting room was still burned into Sinan’s memory—both the pain and the sexual arousal it had brought with it.
Another blast of wind hit him, this one as fierce as daggers, and he drew more power from his heat sigil to keep his body warm.
“There’s the lake.” Meri had taken out a hooded woolen tunic from her pack, and she pulled it over her head as they reached the top of the rise.
The body of water was sizable and surrounded by trees.
On the far ridge, a roof was visible in the greenery.
They would need to walk around the body of water, then climb up another steep elevation to get to the building.
Lots of exposure, and plenty of time for anyone inside the lodge to spot them.
“This weather is strange.” Gallmau blinked away a few snowflakes that clung to his lashes and rubbed his beard.
Everything about the prince was a reddish blonde.
The color reminded Sinan of berries and honey, and he was furious with himself for focusing far too much on Gallmau’s good looks. “It’s never cold here this early.”
“It’s from the Artifact.” Sinan thought the two of them had guessed this by now, but when they exchanged worried glances, he concluded they hadn’t.
Meri had an unsettling amount of knowledge about magic, but few people outside of formally trained mages understood much about Artifacts—or Witch Stones, as Meri insisted on calling them.
Sinan certainly wished he knew more. “I’m confident whoever took Rixende knows we’re here. ”
“I’ll need to be closer to the other side before I can drop into my speed.” Meri surveyed the lakeshore with a frown. The winds had picked up, whipping the surface of the water into waves crested by foam. “We could try to go through the trees to be less exposed.”
“The underbrush is too thick. We have to walk along the lake’s edge.
” Gallmau had come close to Sinan again, and awareness of the warm solidity of his body wasn’t helping Sinan’s concentration any.
“There’s a switchback trail leading up to the lodge on the other side.
Once we get to it, Sinan and I’ll create a fuss, and you can scout for us. ”
They started down the rocky slope, the trees getting closer together as they descended. Gallmau went ahead this time, his unerring sense of direction leading him to a rough trail.
“The other necromancers I’ve fought would have passed out by now.” Meri gave Sinan an appraising glance as they picked their way around tree roots and brush. “You don’t look half-starved, either.”
“Speed fighters need more nourishment than those without necromantic Gifts as well.” Sinan was already winded trying to keep up with the two of them, but he wasn’t going to admit it.
“The Prophets gave me my Gift.” Meri snatched back a tree branch that was about to hit Sinan in the face without obvious effort. She moved like a cat through the woods, all grace and no wasted movements. “You have a curse, and the Divine has forsaken you. I’m not anything like you.”
“You said you hate all witches.” Sinan tried to keep his footing on the uneven path without taking his eyes off Meri. Gallmau was a hulking shape a few feet ahead. Shadow armor or not, he hated being this close to enemies this strong. “Do you think the Prophets have forsaken Abarsam as well?”
“Leave the Grand Vizier out of this.” Meri ducked beneath another branch, increasing her pace enough that Sinan had to scramble to keep up.
She was already trying to tire him out, and they hadn’t even reached the lake yet.
“He’s loyal to the Sultana and to Kush. Unlike the Noviodunam witches, who have their own agenda. ”
“Excellent, we finally agree on something.” Sinan was relieved when Meri stopped, since he needed to catch his breath.
That relief faded when Gallmau held his hand up for them to stop and be quiet.
Meri crept forward, her movements so deft she didn’t make a sound coming up beside the prince.
Sinan wasn’t able to imitate her silent progress, but he did his best not to loudly break any branches as he approached them.
They were standing several paces from the shore, still in the relative cover of the trees.
“I saw something in the water.” Gallmau shook his head, speaking in a low whisper. “Something big—it doesn’t make any sense. I’ve fished here before; there’s nothing that size in there.”
Sinan closed his eyes and concentrated on the lake.
Compared to the vigorous cycle of life and death in the greenery around him, the lake had less thaumaturgic activity, which would be expected from a body of water.
He couldn’t detect any major necromantic power inside it, like the undead hortdan who patrolled the underground rivers and canals of Karakoncolos.
“I don’t sense anything unnatural in the water.
Let me go first. My armor should stop anything. ”
Sinan stepped out onto the shoreline of the lake.
If anyone in the lodge had missed them at the top of the ridge, they would spot him now.
He walked forward several paces, his shadows swirling around him.
They took a fair amount of power to maintain for long periods of time, and the increasing cold meant he needed to draw on his heat sigil, which took far more energy.
Not only was it not related to his strongest affinities, it wasn’t even death magic.
He had dressed in practical wool garments but not for conditions more commonly encountered on mountaintops in the winter.
Gallmau and Meri came out of the woods, catching up to him quickly.
“Nothing wants a bite of you, I guess.” Gallmau’s breath hung in the air, a puff of white vapor, as he spoke. “Not that you don’t look tasty. Wait, that’s not what I meant to say.”
Sinan had no idea if the remark was meant as an insult or a terrible attempt at flirtation. He gathered his cloak around him tighter and circled around a boulder to put some distance between him and the prince.
All that did was earn him a wet slosh as he stepped into a water-filled dip in the ground.
A sharp pain struck him in the hand, under his shields, and Sinan cried out and scrambled up the bank away from Meri and Gallmau. The two Tomb Fighters stood staring at him as he held up his wrist, a single puncture mark oozing blood.
“You’re awfully jumpy.” Meri stood with her back to the lake, as did Gallmau.
Had she done something to him with her speed?
She had been able to get under his shields when he fought Cliona, but why she would settle for a tiny wound on his hand was a mystery.
She already knew he was immune to poisons—and he doubted she would use a weapon like that.
Then the damn undead rat popped out of a patch of shadow and hissed at him.
Sinan took a step backward, cursing, and Meri and Gallmau started laughing.
The Lady of Shadows must be punishing him for his pride.
If he had only asked his mother for help, the rodent would have been exorcised by now and in the peaceful Void of Chaos.
Instead, the animal had tracked him all the way here for the sole purpose of biting him.
Then a gray-brown gelatinous mass emerged from the lake in a spray of water, and Gallmau was gone.
Sinan took a few seconds to understand what he was seeing.
Gallmau was thrashing in the water, fighting some sort of giant fish.
Meri must have used her speed to swim out to him, as she was out there as well, swords flashing as she stabbed at the thing.
From his glimpses of the beast, it must be close to twice Gallmau’s height in length, with finger-like projections around its wide mouth. A catfish the size of a carriage?
His talents weren’t well suited for the situation. Meri or Gallmau could be injured or killed if he tried to throw knife-like bands of shadow at the thing. The only option was to go into the water and direct a strike at the fish’s head.