Spellwright

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Air was still flowing into Nicodemus’s lungs, blood still coursing through his heart. But as he stared at Devin’s body, his own body no longer seemed connected to his senses.

He touched his fingers to his lips without feeling his fingers touching his lips. He closed his eyes without seeing the blackness of his eyelids; the image of Devin’s body remained.

Deirdre led him to a nearby chair. “Tell me what happened,” she said, sitting him down.

Numbly Nicodemus recounted how Shannon had discovered that a golem was killing cacographic boys and how John had tried to stop him from evacuating the Drum Tower.

“But, I don’t… why…” Nicodemus stammered when finished. “I don’t understand.” He grabbed the druid’s arm. “Tell me how to understand.”

She squeezed his hand. “The name Fellwroth is a mystery to me. But Typhon, or Typhoneus, was a powerful demon of the ancient world. He commanded the Pandemonium and was second only to Los himself. The word ‘typhoon’ is derived from his name. He created the Maelstrom that scattered the human ships during the Exodus.”

Kyran appeared at Deirdre’s shoulder. “We must hurry,” he said, and handed her the Seed of Finding. “I’ve rewritten its texts.” An invisibility subtext was wrapping around the druid’s legs.

Deirdre took the Seed and stuffed it into Nicodemus’s belt-purse. “If anything separates us, pull the root from the artifact as you did before. Do you understand?”

Nicodemus nodded but then shook his head. “But about Typhon… I don’t… I mean John can’t have encountered a demon; that would mean that a demon has crossed the ocean.”

Deirdre nodded solemnly. “That is exactly what it means. Nicodemus, the power of the Disjunction is growing. Soon the Pandemonium will cross as well. That must be the truth. Think on it: what spell other than demonic godspell could have warped John’s mind so?”

From the shadows, a now invisible Kyran whispered, “Deirdre, hurry!”

Nicodemus was breathing hard. An overwhelming desire to make sense of things filled his brain. If he could only understand, he might begin to feel again.

“So,” he said, determined not to be put off by Kyran, “a demon used a godspell to distort John’s mind and make his disability worse?” He shuddered. “Yes, that must be it. John had only a three-phrase spoken vocabulary but could spellwrite simple texts in the common languages. He even learned to see Numinous and Magnus. I’ve never heard of another cacographer like that. Someone distorted his mind so that it would display all the stereotypical traits of retardation.”

Kyran spoke quickly. “A curse must have been infesting the poor man’s mind, forcing him to keep you here in Starhaven. It seems my stun text has removed that curse. But none of this changes the fact that we must hurry.”

Nicodemus shook his head. “John said that every four years the demon would visit me when I was sleeping. But why?”

Deirdre answered. “The demon must have made an incomplete theft of your ability to spell. For some reason he needs to renew the curse every four years.”

Nicodemus’s eyes widened. “The golem told Shannon that his master was replenishing an emerald.”

A sudden realization made him pause. “The demon must have used Magistra Finn and John to reach me when I was sleeping. The golem knew about Magistra Finn and tried to recruit her. But the golem must not have known about John.”

Abruptly emotion returned to Nicodemus in the form of stomach-twisting fear. “John said Typhon was accompanied by a ‘red-eyes-man’ named Fellwroth. That must be the golem’s author.”

“And that is why we must hurry,” Deirdre explained, pulling Nicodemus to his feet. “The demon must have tied some summoning magic to the spider creature. You said John was expecting this Fellwroth to come in response to the parchments. We must not be here when the creature arrives.”

“You’re right; we must flee.” Nicodemus pressed his hands to his mouth. “We have to-” He stopped.

Something was wrong.

“Deirdre, why didn’t you unbutton your sleeves for spellwriting?” he asked.

“The magic I use is different! No time to explain. Now, tell me, what do you need to bring?”

“The Index! I left it on the-” Nicodemus’s voice died as he turned toward the door and saw Devin’s body. “Devin,” he whispered.

Deirdre took his arm and turned him away. “Not now, Nicodemus. You can’t mourn now. Listen to me. We must get you down to Gray’s Crossing; there you’ll have my goddess’s protection. Then we can mourn, but now we must fly.”

“No,” he said, “we can’t, not without the other Drum Tower boys. They’re going with us. The golem is killing the male cacographers one by one. He doesn’t know that I’m the one he wants.”

“I didn’t know,” a soft, croaking voice said.

Deirdre and Nicodemus turned. Standing in the door frame was a hunched figure draped in white.

The stranger spoke again. “But I do now.”

Deirdre pulled Nicodemus behind her and drew her massive greatsword with one hand.

“There is no need for dramatics,” the creature sneered.

“I can’t stay long.” In the moonlight, Nicodemus could see little of the creature other than the white cloth covering his body. When he spoke, the air beneath his hood had become blurry.

Suddenly remembering the spell Shannon had written against the fiend, Nicodemus looked for his satchel. He wasn’t confident enough to extemporize Shannon’s new spell. But if he had the Index, he could refresh his knowledge of it. Maybe then he could attempt the spell.

But the book lay sprawled out on the other side of the common room, not seven feet from the golem.

“The promised arrival of Fellwroth,” Deirdre growled, raising her sword. “Villain, are you a lesser demon, or simply Typhon’s human lapdog?”

The creature laughed softly. “You know what I am, and you know I slew Typhoneus in your land more than a year ago. So let’s forgo the blandishments and move on to the exchange. I cannot take the boy now. I was running to that miserable little village. This pathetic golem was all I had available back here. I should have expected Typhon to plant some kind of guard on the boy.” The white robes shifted; the figure seemed to look around. “Who was it? The giant oaf or this broken-faced hussy?”

“I’ll rip your heart out!” Nicodemus snarled and stepped forward.

But Deirdre caught his hand. “Nicodemus, no,” she hissed. “If you have the chance, run.”

The golem wheezed a laugh. “Such courage, Nicodemus. It is good to finally learn your name.” The air below his pale hood again became blurry as if filled with a fine powder. He turned to Deirdre. “Does this mean you are refusing the exchange? It’s hard to imagine that you would be so stupid.”

“You make no sense, Fellwroth. The last time we met, I cleaved your head off. I’d be happy to do the same again.”

Nicodemus noticed the moonlight shifting along the back wall. Kyran! The subtextualized druid was sneaking up on the golem.

The creature laughed. “You have more audacity than brains, girl. Think about what you are doing. I have your rock, and with this dead hussy lying here”-he nodded to Devin’s body-“you can’t stay in Starhaven. The sentinels won’t hesitate to censor and bind you. They’ll leave you in a prison under some tower; reaching you and the boy then would be easier than picking apples.”

The golem drew a wheezing breath. “And if you venture outside of Starhaven’s walls, where I can spellwrite, you’ll face my full strength. You are trapped, so don’t be a fool. Give me the boy, and you will be rewarded.”

Deirdre shook her head. “Fellwroth, you are in no position to buy me. You should be more worried about your neck. You can’t use your magic here.”

“Fool,” the golem snapped. “You think I’m afraid of your blade or your man creeping behind me.” He laughed. “You won’t get-”

“Now!” Deirdre screamed as she sprung forward.

Kyran leaped from the shadows, bellowing a wordless war cry.

Deirdre reached the monster first. She slashed downward with her sword, landed a strike to the golem’s shoulder, and tore his white garment from chest to floor. Kyran stabbed something unseen into the golem’s back.

The white cloth collapsed as if filled with air.

Nicodemus dashed for the Index. But it was over before he picked the book off the ground.

Both druids were waving their hands before their faces and coughing. The air around them was gray.

“He knew he was safe all along,” Kyran managed to say between coughs. “With a body made of this, he could disengage almost instantly.”

Nicodemus stepped closer. The druids were enveloped by a thick cloud of dust.

“We’ve an hour,” Kyran said, “maybe less before the author can form a more substantial body. We must go!”

“What of the other cacographers?” Nicodemus asked, hugging the Index closer to his chest.

“They’re safe,” Deirdre replied. “The monster now knows you’re the one he wants. Quickly now, our lives and the fate of the Disjunction may depend on it. Tell me why the sentinels aren’t guarding the Drum Tower. Tell me everything.”

Nicodemus opened his mouth but did not speak. Fear had compelled him to tell Deirdre of the golem and of John’s behavior. He had been too shocked to be suspicious. But now that his wits were returning, he began to wonder how much he should trust the druids.

Deirdre took his hand. “Nicodemus, you are alive only because I gave you the Seed of Finding and because we came to your aid. You must trust us.”

Nicodemus shook his head. “I don’t know that-”

Kyran spoke. “Nicodemus, the enemy knows who you are and is coming for you. And the monster was right when he said we cannot remain in Starhaven. The sentinels will suspect us of murdering your friend.” He nodded toward Devin’s body. “We’re not safe here. Nor can you flee on your own. Outside Starhaven the creature will be powerful beyond your imagining. Your only hope is to come to our goddess’s ark in Gray’s Crossing. Only she can protect you.”

The druid was right. Nicodemus had no choice but to trust them. “We’re taking John,” he said.

Deirdre shook her head. “He’ll slow us down.”

“No,” he said. “We must take him. The sentinels will think he killed Devin. Leaving him here would be a death sentence.”

“Nicodemus,” Deirdre said carefully, “the man was cursed by a demon. We don’t know if we can trust him.”

“He’s coming.”

Kyran looked at Deirdre. “I could subdue the boy.”

“Try it!” Nicodemus replied hotly. “You could censor me, bind me, maybe even knock me unconscious. But you’ll never sneak my body through the front gates. Especially at this hour of the night. The guards will search everything.”

Deirdre’s mouth flattened. “You know another way out of Starhaven?”

“Only if we bring John with us.”

Deirdre looked him up and down and then laughed dryly. “Ky, rouse the big man. Now, Nicodemus, tell me why the sentinels stopped guarding you. Tell me everything about our enemy.”

As Kyran worked some unknown language over John, Nicodemus told Deirdre about his strange nightmares, about Shannon’s arrest, about the Index, and about the attack spell Shannon had written against the golem.

As Kyran finished, Simple John woke with a low moan. In a few moments Kyran had him on his feet. The stun spell seemed to have fogged the big man’s memory. He was confused and couldn’t seem to recall where he was. However, he did respond to Nicodemus’s voice.

Together, the four of them hurried out of the common room and into the stairwell. Nicodemus held the Index in one hand and John’s hand in the other.

“Where are we going?” Kyran asked as they hurried down the steps.

“To the Sataal Landing and the compluvium,” Nicodemus called back. “We should fetch the other druids. They could help protect us.”

“The other druids in Starhaven can’t be trusted,” Kyran protested.

“Just as there are wizardly factions, there are druidic factions,” Deirdre added behind him. “The druids we can trust are down in Gray’s Crossing guarding our goddess’s ark.”

On the ground floor, Kyran pushed open the door and led them into the Stone Court. Above them shone the brilliant but small blue moon.

The party hurried through the standing stones and into a wide arcade that would take them eastward out of Starhaven’s Imperial Quarter and into the Chthonic Quarter. Occasionally John made confused, anxious sounds. He seemed to have trouble focusing his eyes. But Nicodemus kept him calm with a few words and the reassuring pressure of his hand.

A shudder ran through Nicodemus as he thought about what the demon had done to John. He wondered if the big man would remember killing Devin.

“Nicodemus,” Kyran said. “If there is trouble, you must stay behind Deirdre and me. And if you have the chance to escape, do so.”

Thinking back to how quickly the druids had dealt with the bloodspells, Nicodemus nodded. He asked, “Kyran, back in my common room, when you fought the aracknus spell, there was a strange bear.” A cold autumn breeze set Nicodemus’s black hair fluttering.

Kyran chuckled. “Didn’t you recognize me?”

“But that’s impossible. Only a godspell could-”

Kyran laughed. The druid’s long, blond hair was also stirring in the breeze. “It wasn’t truly a bear but a partial construction, made of the druidic languages and oak. It was wrapped around my body like magical armor.”

Nicodemus raised his brows. That explained the bear’s wooden face and coat of splinters. “But where did you find oak in Starhaven?”

“I’m going to miss that walking staff,” the druid said with a sigh and a nod at his limp.

“You had already written a spell on the staff? But how can your languages animate wood? It should be impossible to-”

Kyran cut him off. “The druidic languages come to us from the ancients. Our languages connect to living tissue-especially that of trees-in a way that is difficult to explain.” He smiled. “Besides, Nicodemus, there is more possible with language than can be imagined within your rules of spelling.”