Treasures of Fantasy - Margaret Weis [160]
Sigurd grinned. “I will tell him that his brat finally grew up.”
He began shouting at the others, who were moving slowly, berating them for laggards. The men set off at a run.
“Thank you for coming with me to free Garn,” Aylaen said. “Maybe we could find Treia. . . .”
We have to find Treia, Skylan thought. He hoped they were going to save Treia. He didn’t like to think what would happen if Treia didn’t want to be saved.
“The priestess spoke the truth,” said Aylaen with a sigh. “It’s my fault. I forged the chains Garn wears.” She glanced at Semelon and frowned. “What do we do with her? She’ll warn her god—”
“Warn him of what? That a bunch of slaves are going to escape?” Skylan smiled and shrugged. “Aelon has his hands full. A few thousand ogres and their gods are about to descend on him. We’ll take the priestess with us. She might be useful.”
He was about to start off when he caught sight of Wulfe lurking about in the shrubbery. He had forgotten about the boy.
“You should go with Sigurd, back to the ship,” said Skylan. His voice was cold and he knew it. He couldn’t help himself. He found it hard to look at the boy and not see the beast.
“You’re mad at me, aren’t you?” Wulfe said, his lip quivering. “I did what you asked. I found the priestess. And I didn’t kill her!”
“I know,” said Skylan, sighing. “It’s going to take time for me to get used to the idea of you being a . . . a man-beast. Like it took time for you to get used to living with Uglies—”
He paused. The word stirred a memory. He took hold of Wulfe by the shoulders, said swiftly, “You told me Treia was praying to a god on board our ship. A god of the Uglies. Do you know the god’s name?”
Wulfe thought back. “No,” he said. “But I smelled smoke and it was really hot.”
“Hevis,” said Skylan. “Hevis told Treia the ritual.”
Wulfe slipped from his grasp and ran to Aylaen, hoping, probably, that if he kept clear of Skylan, he wouldn’t be sent back.
“Where are you going?” Keeper asked. “What is your plan?”
Skylan had assumed Keeper had gone off on his own. He looked at him in wonder.
“What are you doing here? If my people were sailing their ships into the harbor, I would be halfway to the dock by now, ready to greet them when they land.”
“And if I had a ship of my own I would be sailing away,” said Keeper. “How long do you think you will survive in a city overrun by ogres?”
“I’m planning to be out of here long before they attack,” said Skylan.
Keeper shook his head and thrust out his lower lip.
“Humans think ogres are stupid.”
Having been guilty of that himself, Skylan didn’t know what to say. He had no idea what Keeper was talking about.
“We chose this night to invade.” Keeper tilted back his head, looked up into the sky. “Why do you think we did that?”
Keeper’s eyes glittered in the bright moonlight, and Skylan understood.
“The ogres won’t wait for dawn to attack!”
“Of course we won’t,” Keeper muttered, grumbling. “We’re not stupid. They will gut you as they would any other human. Unless I am with you.”
Skylan shook his head. “Thank you, my friend, but it’s too dangerous—”
Keeper brushed that away with a wave of his large hand. “I owe you. You saved my life.”
“No, I didn’t,” said Skylan, astonished.
“I was dead inside,” said the ogre. “You made me see that. Now, again, what is the plan?”
CHAPTER
13
* * *
BOOK THREE
The night air sparkled in the moonlight and seemed to crackle with power. Skylan caught of a whiff of brimstone though there was not a cloud in the moonlit sky. He felt himself in the presence of the gods—old gods and new—converging on this city in a fight that would turn the tide of battle.
They left the old part of the garden, and once they were out of the shadows of the trees, he could see the villa. The house was completely dark except for one room, Chloe’s room. The flames of the oil lamps still burned.
Skylan pictured her entering Torval’s Hall. She would be startled and overwhelmed by the noise, the raucous singing, the pounding