Amber and Blood - Margaret Weis [43]
“I would leave in a heartbeat,” stated Nightshade, “except for the free food.”
Rhys sighed. “Nightshade—”
“Rhys, Mina can magic up meat pies! Just like that!” The kender snapped his fingers. “I’d be crazy to walk away from a person who can do that, even if she is a god and nutty as a fruitcake. Speaking of cake reminds me, it must be way past dinnertime.”
They rounded a curve in the staircase and saw the landing, but no sign of Mina or the dog. Rhys halted, hushed Nightshade when he would have spoken. They both listened.
“The Beloved,” said Nightshade.
“I’m afraid so.” Rhys grabbed the kender and hustled him along.
“Maybe Majere will help us escape them.”
“I’m not sure he can,” Rhys replied.
“What about Zeboim? I’d even be glad to see her right now and I never thought I’d say that!” Nightshade said, gasping for breath.
“I do not believe any of the gods can help us. We witnessed their failure in Solace. Remember? Kiri-Jolith’s paladin could not kill the Beloved, nor could the magic of Mistress Jenna. The Beloved are bound to Mina.”
“But she doesn’t remember them!” Nightshade waved his arms wildly and almost took a tumble down the stairs. “She’s terrified of them!”
“Yes,” Rhys agreed, steadying him. “She is.”
Nightshade glared at him.
“I’m sorry, my friend,” said Rhys helplessly. “I don’t know what to tell you. Except that we must have faith—”
“In what?” Nightshade demanded. “Mina?”
Rhys patted the kender’s shoulder. “In each other.”
“ ‘Don’t borrow trouble,’ my father used to say,” Nightshade muttered, “though dear old Dad borrowed everything else that wasn’t nailed down—”
They were interrupted by a shrill scream and the sound of pleading voices.
Mina came tumbling back down the stairs. “Mister Monk! Those horrible dead people are up there! Someone opened the door—”
“Someone?” Nightshade growled.
“I guess I may have opened it,” Mina admitted. Her face was pale, her amber eyes wide. She looked plaintively at Rhys. “I know you told me to stay with you. I’m sorry I didn’t.” She took hold of his hand, clasping it firmly. “I’ll stay with you now. I promise. But I don’t think the dead people are going to let us out,” she added with a quiver in her voice. “I think they want to hurt me.”
“You should have thought of that before you made them dead!” Nightshade shouted.
Mina stared at him in bewilderment. “Why are you yelling at me? I don’t know anything about them. I hate them!” She burst into tears and, flinging her arms around Rhys, she buried her head against his stomach.
“Mina, Mina …” the Beloved called.
They were gathering on the landing, massing beneath the arched entryway. Rhys could not count their numbers. None of them were looking at him. None looked at Nightshade or Atta. The Beloved’s dead eyes were fixed on Mina. The dead mouths formed her name.
Mina peeked out from the folds of Rhys’s robes and, seeing the Beloved staring at her, she cringed and whimpered. “Don’t let them take me!”
“I won’t. Don’t be afraid. We have to keep moving,” Rhys said, trying to speak calmly.
“No, I won’t!” Mina clung to Rhys, dragging him back. “Don’t make me go up there!”
“Nightshade, take my staff,” said Rhys. He reached down and picked up the girl. “Keep tight hold.”
Mina flung her arms around his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist and hid her face against his shoulder. “I’m not going to look!”
“I wish I didn’t have to look,” Nightshade muttered. “You wouldn’t want to carry me, too, would you?”
“Keep walking,” Rhys said.
They climbed the stairs, moving slowly, but steadily. One of the Beloved took a step toward them. Nightshade froze, sheltering behind Rhys. Atta barked and lunged, jaws wide, teeth flaring. Mina screamed and hung onto Rhys so tightly she nearly choked him.
“Atta! Leave it!” Rhys commanded sharply, and the dog fell back. Atta padded along at his side, growling a warning, her lip curled back to show her fangs.
“Keep moving,” Rhys said to the kender.
Nightshade kept