Azure bonds - Kate Novak [153]
The silence hanging over the table was oppressive. Struggling to lift it, the bard began to ask, "Crafter? Who's-" but before she could finish Phalse gave her thigh a sharp squeeze. Olive almost jumped from her chair. She turned to glare at him for an explanation, but he was busy draining his goblet. Holding out his glass for a refill, he bestowed her with a wink from one of his peculiarly blue eyes.
"I'm sorry," Cassana prompted. "You were saying?"
"Nothing. I was too wrapped up in your tale."
"Of course," Cassana replied. She began nodding and murmuring to herself, and Olive wondered if Cassana had channeled too much of her power into keeping up her good looks and let her mind go a little mushy. The sorceress's head snapped up and she announced, "Now, the three of us will be very busy for the next few hours, preparing for the ceremony to be held at dawn. But you, Olive, were up very early this morning, before dawn. And since then you've been a very, very busy little girl. You must be exhausted. Take a nap, and Phalse will send for you."
Whether it was the suggestion, the food, or the long hours and miles between Yulash and Westgate, Olive suddenly felt very weary. She swayed in her chair, trying to shake the cobwebs from her brain. Phalse put a hand out to steady her, his grip like iron.
"Now that you mention it," the bard said, not bothering to stifle a yawn, "I'm dead on my feet."
"Good. Prakis my pet, why don't you take the small bard up to Phalse's room for her nap?"
"I would prefer-" Phalse began to protest, but Cassana cut him off with a motion of her hand.
"You and I have some private matters to discuss," the sorceress insisted.
"Just how private do you intend to get?" Phalse bantered.
The lich rose silently and stood behind the halfling's chair as she tumbled from it. She staggered from sudden exhaustion, then began weaving her way to the staircase.
Cassana laughed behind her, calling out, "Sleep tight, little one." When the lich had maneuvered the bard up the first flight of stairs, the sorceress turned her cold, hard eyes on Phalse. "Well?"
"She's scared witless, but that's understandable," Phalse replied in the halfling's defense. "But it's a rather delicious sort of terror, don't you think?"
"She seems a bit unstable. She'll sleep through the ceremony. When she wakes, her former allies will be dead or under our control. The choice will be easier for her once her options have been limited. I would prefer it, though, if you would use her and get rid of her tonight," said Cassana.
Phalse flashed his inhuman smile. "I'll slay her myself if you similarly dispose of your lovers, including the Turmite."
Cassana pouted "You'd deprive me of my pets?"
"You'd deprive me of mine."
The two glared at one another, locked in a contest of wills. Then slowly, both began to laugh.
*****
When the halfling collapsed on the second landing, Prakis bundled the childlike bard in his yellow cape and cradled her in his arms, carrying her to Phalse's opulent bedroom. He lay the halfling woman on the satin coverlet and leaned in close to her face, muttering a few words. Then he touched her on the forehead and shoulders.
Olive sat bolt upright, her eyelids flying open like pigeons startled by a temple bell. "What!" she gasped, then cringed away immediately from the mockery of humankind hovering over her.
"Hush," the death's head rattled. "I've cast a spell on you to counteract the magical suggestion Cassana the Cruel used to make you sleep," Prakis explained. His voice sounded windier than before, as though suddenly it was a greater effort for him to speak. "How do you feel?"
"I feel… I feel like I've slept for a week. Did I miss the ceremony?"
"No, only a few minutes have passed since you left the table. But my counteractive spell will give you energy now for hours. I woke you to make