neetha Napew - Son Of Spellsinger

As the noise outside increased, she grabbed one of the cut-crystal oil lamps, making sure it was at least half full, I and scampered up the ladder to the second-level walkway. A pair of armed pacas entered, espied her, and came a-rushing. Setting the lamp down on the landing, she put both hands on the top of the ladder and shoved. It made a satisfying crash as it struck both of them, knocking one to the floor.

A couple of pottos showed up but made no move to resurrect the ladder. They were followed by a hyrax and a trio of stout armadillos. The Baron arrived a moment later, escorted by a single weasel.

“Cheers.” She smiled bravely as she clutched the dagger tight. “ ‘Ow’s your ardor? Cooled a bit?”

He grinned back up at her, but it was clearly a strain. “Under different circumstances I might have found the encounter stimulating.”

“Cor, you don’t say?” She waved the blade. “Come on up ‘ere an’ I’ll be glad to stimulate you some more.”

“You’re being very tiresome. Come down from there. Now.”

“Sorry. I kind o’ like it up ‘ere. Meanwhile, you can kiss your arse.”

He took a deep breath. “I see that ropes and restraints are in order. I had hoped you would come to enjoy my attentions, or at least tolerate them. Now I see that I will have to take a different approach. It will in nowise mitigate my pleasure, but I assure you that you will find it exceedingly uncomfortable.” He gestured. There were now a dozen armed retainers in the room.

Two of the armadillos picked up the ladder, while a dexterous gibbon placed his saber between his teeth and prepared to ascend as soon as it had been properly positioned. Seeing that the armadillos intended to set the ladder against the railing on the other side of the room, Neena rushed around the walkway and prepared to confront them.

As the ladder struck home, the climbing gibbon drew his saber and cut at her legs. She hopped lithely over the blow, avoiding a second slash just to show it was no fluke, and sliced the combative primate across his lightly clad chest. Clutching at the wound, the ape lost his balance and fell, rather dramatically, to the floor below. His colleagues thoughtfully scattered, none gallant enough to break their companion’s fall.

“Get her down from there, you idiots!” Krasvin raged at his servants. “Get another ladder! Get several.” As a number of the retainers rushed to do his bidding, he whirled to glare up at her.

While everyone waited on those who had left, the armadillos raised the single ladder a second time. This time it was a somewhat reluctant rat who cautiously ascended the rungs. As he climbed, he jabbed his long spear in Neena’s direction. Retreating, she parried the unwieldy thrusts until the rat was within reach. Then she darted forward beneath the spearpoint and slashed at his hand. The rodent yelped, dropped his spear, and shinnied quickly back down the ladder.

She’d grabbed at the spear but missed, hoping to gain something to hurl at the gaping faces below. It was then she realized that in that regard she was not unequipped.

The first tome she pulled from the shelves was weighty and thickly bound. This satisfying missile struck one of the armadillos square on the forehead. It squealed in pain and let go of the ladder as its companion tried to balance the heavy object.

Additional volumes followed in joyful and rapid succession. They caused plenty of confusion, if no real damage.

A stricken Krasvin stepped hastily to the fore. “Stop that!” He bent to recover a damaged tome, cradling it lovingly. “Don’t you realize how valuable this collection is? Do you have any idea what goes into the manufacture of a single book?” He was genuinely distressed.

Neena smiled inwardly. She’d found Krasvin’s weak spot.

It seemed he was a collector not only of unwilling young females, but of books. She would not have guessed it.

“No, I don’t.” She selected an especially beautifully bound volume from the nearest shelf. “You mean it would be really hard to replace this if you did this to it?” Opening the book, she began to rip out pages at random, tossing them over the railing. They fluttered to the floor like stricken moths.

“Don’t do that!” His fist clenched in a paroxysm of frustration, Krasvin glared at his people. “Where are those other ladders?”

Neena promptly began ripping and flinging fistfuls of pages from volumes chosen at random, until a blizzard of paper and vellum filled the room. Helpless to stop her, Krasvin was suffering more than he had from the lamp pole. Witnessing his agony made Neena feel better than she had in some time.

Wheezing and panting, several retainers finally returned with two more ladders. Gathering along different walls, they prepared to assault her from three directions at once. Quick as she was, she knew she could probably hold them off for a little while. But eventually they would wear her down. Once more in his paws, she knew Krasvin would take steps to see that her escape attempt could not be repeated.

“It’s all over.” Mink eyes stared ferociously up at her. “Come down right now and maybe, maybe, if you beg me hard enough and long enough, I won’t have you killed when I’m finished with you.”

“I reckon you’re right, mister Baron. It is over. Except for this.” Taking the last volume she’d extracted from the shelves, she held it upside down so that the pages dangled loose directly above the open flame of the crystal oil lamp. As soon as it caught, she heaved the flaming folio over the railing. It landed amidst a pile of torn pages, which immediately flared brightly.

“Put that out!” Ripping the cloak from one of his retainers, Krasvin flung it onto the fire and began hopping madly to snuff the flames. Only the quick thinking of the langur, who raced for the kitchen and returned moments later with a pail of water, enabled them to extinguish the blaze before the entire room was engulfed.

When Krasvin was finally able to turn his attention back to his former captive, she already had another pile of irreplaceable kindling ready. Half a dozen other books lay open nearby, soaked with oil from the lamp.

“Righty-ho. Now, do I get out o’ ‘ere, or does this ‘ole blinkin’ repository go up in smoke?”

“You’ll burn with it.”

“I’ll take me chances. ‘Ow about you?” She was not smiling now.

“You don’t get out of here,” he spat out. “You never get out of here. Even if you burn down the whole library.”

She shrugged. “Suit yourself, guv.” She lowered the book she was holding toward the open flame, sure they could smell the oil she’d spread about even on the floor below.

“Wait!” The mink raised both paws. She hesitated. “Let’s . . . talk.”

She nodded slowly, pursing her lower lip. “That’s more like it. I’m always willin’ to chat. But I’m pretty tired. Tired o’ tryin’ to watch everybody.”

The Baron gestured. The three ladders were lowered and the retainers backed off, several of them retreating to the atrium outside. Selecting one of the reading chairs, Krasvin sat down facing her. “Better?”

“Bloody right it is. Now I’d like some water.”

“How about some fine wine instead?”

She smiled thinly. “I may be young, but I ain’t stupid. Just water. Cold. An’ somethin’ to eat. Fresh fish would be nice.”

“Anything else?” he asked tensely.

She didn’t flinch from his even, murderous gaze. “If there is, I’ll let you know.”

He nodded once and relayed the instructions to a servant. The paca vanished through the double doorway. Setting themselves to wait, the remaining retainers put their weapons aside and leaned against the shelves, or sat down on the tiled floor.