Кейт Новак - The Wyvern's Spur

“Yes,” Cat whispered, keeping her eyes down.

Flattery pulled at the sack Cat carried. “A little present for me, Cat? Something by way of an apology, you witch? Looted from Drone’s lab, I take it.”

Cat clutched the sack for only a moment, then released it. The wizard chuckled and tied it to his belt.

“Now, Giogioni, you will give me the spur this minute,” Flattery growled, rising to his feet and taking up the sphere holding Amberlee, “or I will feed this brat to a wraith. Then you will give me the spur or your aunt will be next. Or maybe Cat. Try to change your shape, and they will be dead before you can cross the room.”

Giogi drew the spur from his boot. “I want to be sure my aunt is well. Send her to my side, and I will give her the spur to take to you.”

Flattery snorted. He descended the dais and shoved Dorath with his foot. “Go,” he ordered her.

Dorath rose slowly to her feet and crossed the room. The wrinkles on her face had doubled, and she looked very feeble. She stopped before Giogi and raised her hand to stroke his face.

“Don’t be a fool,” Dorath whispered, mustering as much of her grandaunt tones as she dared. “He can’t be trusted. Flee now. Once he has the spur, no spells will affect him. None of us will leave here alive.”

“I can’t leave you,” Giogi said, pressing the spur into her gnarled hands.

“I won’t give him this,” she hissed.

Giogi pushed his aunt’s hand down by her thigh. “Carry it to him like this. When you reach him, think of the dream,” he whispered.

“No,” Dorath said, her eyes widening with fear.

“Yes. Do as I say,” Giogi commanded through clenched teeth.

“I won’t become that beast,” Aunt Dorath whispered.

“Stop being a foolish old woman,” Giogi said. “Be a hero, like your mother. It’s our only chance. Amberlee’s only chance.”

“Stop whispering!” Flattery shouted. “Bring the spur to me, now!”

“Don’t keep him waiting, Aunt Dorath,” Giogi said. “Do it.”

With her jaw still jutting out stubbornly, Dorath turned around. Her gnarled hands trembled with fear. She shuffled toward Flattery, hunched over with age.

Flattery set Amberlee down and strode toward Dorath, holding his hand out impatiently. Horrified, Giogi watched Dorath hold her hand out to the wizard. Flattery snatched the prize she offered.

Sweet Selûne, Giogi thought, she was too frightened.

We’re all doomed.

Flattery turned his back on her, muttering casually, “Kill them.”

Misty black wraiths and corpse-gray wights began closing in on Giogi and Dorath at once.

Giogi drew his foil and rushed forward, shouting, “Stay back!” In his left hand the finder’s stone flared with a light as bright as day. The undead backed away from the light, snarling and retreating to the back of the audience chamber.

Flattery whirled around suddenly. “What is this?” he shouted. He hurled at Dorath’s head the object she’d just handed him. The old woman’s shape had already begun to blur and grow, however, and the wooden darning sock bounced off her red wyvern scales and clattered harmlessly to the floor.

Without a second’s hesitation Dorath smashed her stinging tail down on the wizard, catching him in the shoulder with its venomous tip. As Flattery crumbled to the ground screaming, Dorath snatched up in her mouth the globe that held Amberlee, and whirled around.

“Run, Aunt Dorath!” Giogi shouted.

The wyvern plodded from the audience chamber as fast as its two birdlike legs could carry it, ducking to clear the door frame.

From the top of the dais Giogi saw Cat pulling out a scroll she’d concealed in the sash she wore. Giogi rushed toward Flattery, but one undead, a dark shadow unafraid of the light, intercepted the nobleman.

Giogi drew back. He still couldn’t remember the entire rhyme about the undead, but the line “A shadow’s touch saps the strength” came to him in a flash. He could hear Cat chanting, reading from her scroll.

Flattery stumbled to his feet, a bloodstain spreading on his robe. “After the wyvern!” he screamed.

A swarm of wraiths skimmed around the finder’s stone’s light, heading for the door, but they all bounced backward, repelled by an invisible barrier.

Satisfied that his aunt would make good her escape, the nobleman turned his full attention to the shadow. He lunged at it with his foil, but the weapon did no more damage to the creature than a stick did to air. The shadow closed on Giogi, its hands outstretched, its body traveling up the length of the foil’s blade.

Just as the shadow reached the weapon’s guard, Giogi heard Cat cry out the word “coffin,” and the shadow halted. Giogi stepped back and withdrew his foil from the undead. Cat ran to the nobleman.

Flattery turned toward them. “I taught you to hold undead, Cat. But where did you get the wall of force?” the wizard asked. “A scroll, Cat? You’ve blocked your own exit. Why don’t you lower it and flee?”

“No,” Giogi whispered to her. “We need to give Aunt Dorath time to reach Redstone.”

“You’ve bought your miserable relatives a few hours,” Flattery replied. “I will have the spur from them once I’ve dispensed with you. Your Uncle Drone is dead. The old woman may be able to wield the spur, but she is the only other one, and she will be too weak to fight me, even if she can resist my magic. If they do not surrender the spur, they all will die.”

He doesn’t know Uncle Drone is alive, Giogi realized. If I can stall Flattery long enough for Aunt Dorath to reach Redstone, Uncle Drone will come to help.

“Let’s see, Catling. Besides holding that undead,” Flattery said, motioning to the immobile shadow that had nearly gotten Giogi, “you assaulted me with missiles. You summoned me earlier today with a whispering wind bird. You have more power still. Cast something else at me.”

“Why bother? It’s obvious you’ve made yourself invulnerable to my attacks,” she said, indicating the reddish glow that outlined his body. “I’ll save my attacks for your undead, should any more of them have the courage to brave the light of Giogi’s stone.”

“I don’t think you have any power left,” the wizard taunted, “which makes you just a woman.” Flattery advanced toward her menacingly.

“A woman under my protection,” Giogi said, stepping forward with his foil leveled at the wizard. With the hand that held the finder’s stone the nobleman pushed Cat behind him. Without undead to shield him, Giogi wondered, can I run Flattery through before he can cast a spell?

Flattery snorted at Giogi’s foil. “So, the men of the clan still learn to use that ridiculous weapon,” the wizard said, stepping back and assuming a fencing stance. He snapped his fingers and whispered, “Ward.” A foil appeared in his hand.

“Well, Giogioni,” Flattery said, saluting with his foil. “Do we fight over the lady’s honor? I use the word ‘lady’ loosely, of course.”

Giogi returned the salute with a cold anger. “On guard,” he replied, crouching into his stance. Behind him he could hear Cat begin whispering another chant. In his back hand, the finder’s stone remained bright.

For the first few minutes, Flattery parried Giogi’s attacks without attacking back, taking the measure of his opponent. The wizard’s parries were flawless.

“I take it,” Flattery said, “that beyond defending that witch, your intention is to avenge the deaths of your father and uncle.”

“Naturally,” Giogi replied. He beat at his opponent’s blade, forcing the wizard into a step backward.

“What kind of fool would fight for a doddering old man, a father who’d abandoned him, and a slut without a memory?” Flattery asked, finally making an attack lunge at Giogi’s shoulder. Giogi parried high, but Flattery’s motion proved to be a feint for a lower attack at his ribs. Giogi was forced to retreat a step.