Chapter 17
GALLMAU
G allmau no sooner made it off the ice than the Saints-damned fish that had gone after him pulled Sinan underwater.
Meri was nowhere in sight, and with the blinding snow all Gallmau could see was a hole in the ice and Sinan’s head slipping under the surface.
The magical shadow bridge Sinan had created to get him off the lake was gone, so Gallmau’s only choice was to crunch through the ice up to his waist and grab one flailing arm.
He succeeded next in getting his hands around Sinan’s shoulders and yanking him above the surface.
The catfish had one of Sinan’s legs in its mouth, and it thrashed back and forth, trying to fight off Gallmau and drag its prey to the bottom of the lake.
Gallmau had the advantage of his strength and the water being shallow enough that he could plant his feet and haul both Sinan and the catfish out of the water and onto dry land. Meri popped into view, straddling the fish and stabbing both her blades into the monster’s head.
“Why won’t this thing die?” Meri had Sinan’s cloak hanging off her back, and between that and the fish blood spraying over everyone, including Gallmau, she looked more terrifying than a pack of Bone Lords.
Sinan’s leg came loose from the fish’s mouth, and Gallmau lifted him up and placed him on the snow-swept sand.
The necromancer’s lips were blue and his eyes closed.
Gallmau knelt next to him and pressed his lips against his, blowing in a breath to get him to start breathing.
He had a fleeting moment of hesitation, recalling warnings about Bone Lords using the bodily fluids of their victims to enslave them.
If that was going to happen, he’d prefer his eternal downfall to come from something more exciting than spit.
He pressed on Sinan’s chest, hoping to expel any water without cracking the young man’s ribs, then bent down and gave him another breath. Maybe, if Sinan survived, he wouldn’t be ungrateful enough to turn Gallmau into an undead slave.
Meri gave a shout of triumph, and Gallmau twisted his head to see the catfish sprawled dead in a pool of dark red.
Beneath him, Sinan jerked and sat up.
Gallmau tried to hold on to him, but Sinan twisted out of his grip and scrambled away, coughing lake water out of his lungs.
“Leave me alone.” Sinan sent a warning arc of shadow slicing into the ground between them, then wiped off his lips with his hand. “You put your mouth on me.”
Apparently, he was going to be an ungrateful wretch.
Gallmau should have expected that. “I wasn’t making a pass at you, I was trying to get you to breathe.
” Gallmau went over to see how Meri was doing, since Sinan was clearly not in the mood for further rescuing.
She had sheathed her blades and was kicking at the side of the fish.
“What is this thing?” Meri directed the comment at Sinan, who was still retching. One of the strange symbols on the cloak she was wearing glowed a faint purple. Sinan had said he didn’t need something to die every time he used his powers, but the death of the catfish had revived him and his magic.
“It’s a big fish.” Sinan succeeded in standing up, but he looked unsteady.
Meri came over to him and took off the cloak, holding it out to him. “I know it’s a big fucking fish. I want to know if it’s magic.”
“It was Touched, yes.” Sinan took his cloak back from Meri and wrapped it around him. The purple symbol dimmed. He must have drawn down its power right away. “Animals can have Gifts as well as humans. What’s more important is that someone was controlling it.”
“Forget about the catfish from Hell.” Gallmau was cold and shivering and that meant Meri had to be in much worse shape.
Sinan had his fancy magic sheet, but he was still drenched.
Low temperatures and wet clothing would be a death sentence for all three of them if they didn’t get to shelter soon. “We have to go to the chateau.”
“I didn’t see a sign of anyone there.” Meri hugged her chest for warmth, although her clothing wasn’t as wet as it should have been.
Sinan had given her his own cloak to warm her up, so maybe he wasn’t a total ungrateful bastard, as long as there was no touching involved.
“It’s a steep trail. I can’t go back into my speed anytime soon. ”
The time for speed was over. Stamina alone would get them through this, and Gallmau had plenty of that. His two companions were another story.
“I’ll carry both of you if I have to.” He reached out to extend a hand to Sinan and wasn’t surprised when the necromancer jerked away.
Gallmau found the trail and let Meri go first, with Sinan in the middle.
He didn’t think the necromancer was going to make it up the mountain path, dead fish or no dead fish.
Cold and exhaustion—those were the weakness Abarsam had told them to exploit—and Sinan was half-drowned and chilled to the bone.
They had to fix that, and soon. There would be dry clothes and bedding to spare in the lodge.
The royal family had servants and guides who maintained all of the far-flung properties of the throne.
The storm intensified, as if enraged that the three of them were still alive.
Gallmau could make out Sinan in front of him, but the snow was too thick to see Meri.
They were on the right trail, but with the current conditions, it would be easy to step off and fall into the logs and snow-covered rocks below.
“Can you see her?” He had to shout over the roar of the storm. Sinan paused, as if considering the question, then fell backward.
It was abrupt enough that Gallmau barely had time to catch him. The necromancer struggled for a moment, before giving up the futile effort of trying to undo the grip Gallmau had on him.
Gallmau turned Sinan to face him. The necromancer’s eyes looked glassy, and his mumbled threats were barely audible.
Gallmau placed one foot between Sinan’s legs and lifted the Prince of Shadows up and over his shoulders.
He still had his shield and his travel pack on his back, but he could handle Sinan’s added weight with ease.
What he couldn’t do was stop Sinan from using magic on him for daring to carry him to safety.
“Don’t even think about hexing me, understand?” Gallmau held on to Sinan’s legs with one hand and marched forward.
He came upon Meri a few strides later. She had kept to the path, but her breathing was labored and her legs shaking. He held out his free arm, and she leaned in with a grateful sigh.
“I can pick you up too,” Gallmau offered, but Meri shook her head.
“I think we’re close enough I can make it.” She clung tighter to him, and the wind howled through the trees. “If there’s anyone I missed up there, you’re going to need your sword arm.”
That wasn’t a pleasant thought. Gallmau tried to pick up the pace without exhausting Meri. Sinan wasn’t struggling. Maybe he had finally realized he wasn’t going to get up the mountain on his own two feet, or maybe he had passed out.
A rush of relief went through him as they came out of the trees to the spot Gallmau remembered as a wide clearing in front of the three-story stone structure.
Then his heart dropped.
The blizzard winds swept through with such ferocity he couldn’t see a handsbreadth in front of his face. Meri sagged beside him, and he hoisted her up into the crook of his arm and kept going.
He knew where the front door should be, on the side of the structure, below arrow-slit windows set in massive stone walls.
The building had originally been an ancient fort.
Compared to the extravagant chateaus his father and many of the nobles had built closer to villages and roads, this hunting lodge was positively rustic.
The snow around him had turned into shards of ice, stinging his exposed face and forcing him to bend forward to advance against the shrieking gales.
It was hard not to think there was something intelligent and malicious behind the storm.
He knew there was no more than several paces between him and the protection the building offered, but he couldn’t tell what direction to take.
Gallmau focused in on his memories of the lodge and fixed the location in his mind.
The first time he had come here with his father he had been thirteen, hoping to get closer to a man who had always been remote and unyielding.
The king had little time and even fewer words for him during that stay—until he promised his son the Shield of Soissons if he succeeded in taking down the magnificent stag they were tracking.
Gallmau felled the animal with a single arrow and was rewarded with a few words of rare praise and the spelled shield.
After the hunt, Gallmau felt as if he could walk on clouds—until they returned to the chateau with the trophy and a host of courtiers. One of them made a crude joke about Gallmau’s conception, and the king laughed and agreed with the sentiment.
Even at that age Gallmau knew his mother had been a courtesan before she died giving birth to him, but he had always fantasized his father loved her.
With a few brief words of banter, the King had revealed he thought little more of Gallmau’s mother than he would a hunting bitch who produced a promising pup.
Everything about that day was seared into his memory—the embarrassment, the crushing disappointment, all in front of the stone walls of the lodge and the vivid green backdrop of the ancient forest around it.
Gallmau didn’t need to see where he was going. He had walked the path to this lodge with his shame and anger hundreds of times in his mind.
Trudging forward with Meri under his arm and Sinan on his back, he retraced every miserable step he had taken that day and came upon the bolted wooden door a few minutes later.
After fumbling with the latch, he gave up and kicked it in.
If anyone inside wanted to attack them, he had told them he was here.