Shadow War - Deborah Chester [146]
Gathering up her skirts, Elandra stepped right up to the door and stopped there. She glanced at Caelan over her shoulder. “Open it.”
He hesitated just long enough to bring a frown to her eyes; then he stepped forward to obey. It was hinged to swing toward them.
Cautiously, not trusting what might perhaps really await them on the other side, Caelan gestured for the empress to stand back.
She did so, and he reached for the latch.
Before his fingers actually touched it, however, it opened itself. The door swung inward on its own.
Caelan flinched back from it, then crouched with his dagger ready.
Past the doorway stood a spacious cavern filled with men and milling horses. The area hummed with frenzied activity. On the opposite side of the cavern, the emperor’s banner hung limply from a staff, and the guardsmen themselves were men Caelan recognized as loyal. Relief swelled in his throat.
He stood aside to let Elandra precede him.
On the threshold, however, she seemed to bump into something unseen.
Gasping, she recoiled and backed away quickly.
Cursing himself, Caelan reached her side immediately. “Is your Majesty hurt?” he demanded.
She shook her head. Her eyes were still wide with fear. “What in Gault’s name is it?” she whispered, clutching her jewel bag.
Caelan returned to the doorway. When he reached out, his hand struck an invisible barrier that was as firm as a stone wall. It was neither cold nor hot to his touch. It was simply impassable.
Gazing through it in mounting frustration, he could see the guardsmen saddling horses and loading provisions, but he could not step through to join them.
No one in the cavern glanced his way. Caelan decided they could not see him. The thought stirred fresh worry inside him. Were the guardsmen really out there, or was this all an illusion?
He turned around to face Sien. Inside him, rage and resignation were building. He’d known all along the priest was going to pull some trickery. Now it had to be dealt with.
“Careful, warrior,” Sien said softly. “Do not make a mistake you will regret.”
Caelan bared his teeth as he brandished his dagger. “Did you not ask me to strike you down just a few minutes ago? Your memory is short, priest.”
“On the contrary,” Sien replied, “my memory is excellent. I recall asking you what price you would pay for the lady’s recovery.”
Elandra’s head whipped around sharply. “What?”
Caelan felt a slow rage heating inside him, molten in his loins, burning hotter and hotter in his chest, rising through his neck, his cheeks, his eyes. He glared at the priest, in no mood for games.
“You didn’t cure her,” he said hoarsely.
Sien smiled with pity, and Caelan suddenly understood that the priest meant Elandra’s return to the side of the emperor. It was a cold drenching of comprehension that left him standing there stricken and silent.
“No,” Elandra said softly, horror in her voice. She looked from one man to the other. “No.”
Caelan ignored her. His gaze was only for the priest, whose eyes were now rapacious and gleaming. Sien licked his lips, and something in the air smelled burned.
“Dark magic!” Elandra cried in warning. She stumbled against Caelan, perhaps to push him to safety or perhaps to grip him for reassurance.
He swept her aside with his free arm and moved toward Sien slowly on the balls of his feet. In his temple his pulse throbbed with the desire to kill this bald old viper, but he kept his emotions in check. He must use his wits here, not his brawn. Physical attack was not the answer; if Sien used magic to defend himself, Caelan knew he would not stand much chance against the priest.
“I ask again,” Sien said. “What price will you pay?”
“What price do you ask?” Caelan countered.
“No!” Elandra said. “Caelan, I forbid this. Do not bargain with this traitor.”
Caelan frowned, wishing she would be quiet. She was distracting him. He narrowed his gaze on the priest,