Obsidian Ridge - Jess Lebow [58]
The Claw cowered back, covering his face and protecting himself from the floating debris. The crossroads, brightened by mage-lit stones in sconces along the wall, went •dim from the cloud of black dust. The Claw coughed through his cloak, sucking air through the fabric to block out the floating filth.
There was a light tinkling sound as the heavier particles settled back to the ground-the last sprinkling of the stone rain. The Claw moved toward the mouth of the hallway he'd just come from. His eyes burned and itched from the dust, but slowly the air cleared. Where the archway had been only a few moments before, there was now a huge mound of crumbled stone.
He couldn't see the construct, even a piece of it, through the pile, but he was certain nothing was going to make it out of there alive-or still moving. He checked the ceiling, wary of having to dash away from falling stone. But the cave-in had stopped at the end of the passage, and the crossroads was spared.
He was safe-for the moment.
+++++
King Korox stepped back into the storage closet where Genevie was being held. Upon seeing him, the half-elf recoiled in fear.
"I have very little time for this," said Korox. His head hurt and he rubbed his temples. "So I'm going to ask you some simple questions, and you're going to answer them." He looked right at Genevie, his tone threatening, his words sincere. "Do you understand?"
The handmaiden nodded.
"Good. Then we will start." The king paused, looking for the right way to phrase his first question. "How many mages can you gather before nightfall?"
The half-elf woman looked puzzled. "I don't… I can't gather any."
The king slammed his fist into a wooden shelf, shattering it and sending the pieces dropping to the floor. "I don't have time for your games. I know you're the Matron, and I'm willing to make a deal with you. That is what you offered, isn't it? That was what you sent Whitman here to tell me. That you wanted some sort of an alliance? So name your price. What is it you want to release my daughter and help me defeat Xeries?"
"My lord, please forgive me, but I am not the Matron. I don't know any mages or about any deal, and I do not know where Princess Mariko is." She stood in the corner, looking at the king with wide, wild eyes.
"Damn you!" he shouted, pointing at her with one thick finger. "I will have no more of this! You will deal with me now, or you will die."
"I told you," Genevie sobbed, terror on her face, "I have no mages. I don't know where the princess is."
There was commotion behind the king. It sounded as if the guards were holding back someone who wanted to get into the closet.
"Let me pass!" came a voice. "The king is making a terrible mistake."
Korox stopped shouting and lowered his finger. "Vasser? Is that Vasser?"
"Yes, my lord," came the voice. Then, "You see. I told you the king would want to see me."
The guards stepped aside and into the closet came Vasser. He lifted his very large hat from the top of his head, and swung it out before him as he gave the king an elaborate bow.
"Before you get carried away, my king, allow me to tell you what I know."
Korox nodded.
Placing his hat under his arm, Vasser slipped past the king and stood beside the half-elf woman. "I have been following the princess's handmaiden-among others-for some time. Three days ago, however, she managed to give me the slip, and I've been looking for her on your instruction ever since. This morning I discovered that she has been in the south, purchasing medicinal herbs to give to her grandson." Vasser looked down on the terrified half-elf, her cheek swollen from where the king struck her. "He has a rare disease that will require a very expensive spell to cure. In the meantime, Genevie has been getting a copper weed poultice from a druid in Duhlnarim, to soothe her grandson's symptoms while she collects the coin to pay for the spell."
"So you're telling me that her disappearance was a complete coincidence?