Obsidian Ridge - Jess Lebow [20]
Mariko reacted on instinct. Holding out both hands, she shouted the words to a spell she didn't often have to use. From her fingertips sprung long, ropy strands. Her spell filled the room with sticky magical silk, pinning everything-she hoped-in place.
The pounding noise of running boots stopped, replaced by shouts of frustration and the sound of men falling to the ground.
Reaching out her palm, the princess touched the brick wall to her right. She cast another spell, one she used more frequently.
The chamber exploded with light as every brick in the wall lit up. The men shouted and cursed as their eyes were shocked awake from complete blackness.
"Not good," said the princess.
The room was much larger than she had anticipated. The corner she had seen in the moonlight was just a small nook. Behind the door, the office-really more like a sub-storehouse-ran off for at least several hundred paces then disappeared again in the darkness.
But more disturbing was the scene immediately in front of her.
Twenty men, all of them wearing similar white robes and chain mail stood before her. A good dozen of them were tangled in her magical web. Several had tripped over their companions and were stuck face first to the ground, completely incapacitated. Try as they might, they weren't getting free anytime soon.
Beside the door stood a man. He wore a fine chain shirt over padded clothing, the same image of the golden-haired woman on his chest, but his face was elongated, and there were two small horns jutting from the top of his forehead. Despite his deformations, he seemed oddly familiar.
The man was directly between Mariko and the way she had come in. It was possible that there was another way out, somewhere in the still-dark section of the room, but her web and nearly two-dozen men made finding it a little trickier.
"Well met, Princess," said the horned man, his words slurring a little as they slipped over his sharp teeth. "We've been expecting you."
"I see that," she said, searching the room for an exit.
Those men not stuck fast came at her from around the edge of the web. They all carried long swords, but to a man they left them in their sheaths. Instead, they bore down on the princess with wooden clubs.
Mariko managed to raise her dagger in time to stab the first assailant through the foot. He screamed and dropped his club. A second came in at her from the left, which she sidestepped. But the third struck her squarely on the thigh, knocking her off balance and forcing her down to one knee.
Wounded and angry, the princess looked up at the mob of white-robed men in front of her and let out a scream.
Not a cry for help or a sign of defeat-the princess's shout was more of the ear-splitting, skull-rattling, gem-shattering variety. Backed into the corner, the brick wall amplified her spell, catching six men in its blast and sending them reeling backward, holding their heads in their hands.
"The ringing! Make it stop! Make it stop!"
The men staggered away, poking their fingers in their ears and howling.
Taking advantage of the opening, the princess limped to her feet and moved toward the door. Only the horned man stood between her and freedom.
Lifting her dagger over her head, she struck a fencer's pose-one she had been taught by her fighting instructor back at the palace. The blade of her weapon began to glow a deep purple, and the runes on its edge sparkled with white light.
"Let me pass, and I let you live," she said. The man merely looked at her. "My name is Jallal Tasca," he said. "Perhaps you recognize it."
"Pello Tasca's brother," she whispered. That was why he had seemed so familiar. His face did hold a resemblance to the man she had spied coming and going from the docks on many a night. But something dreadful had transformed him.
Jallal looked down on her with what the princess could only imagine was pity. "So you do recognize me. Very good."
The princess felt