Lord of Stormweather

CHAPTER 21

The hairs on the back of Tamlin's neck stood up as straight and as hard as sewing needles. He turned around to see nothing behind him but the bare wall that concealed the secret door to the cellars. Even so, he felt the strong sensation that something was coming through that passage, toward him.

The sound of picks and hammers on the stone floor resounded in the cool chamber. He briefly considered ordering the workmen to pause in their labor, but his desire to see what they would find beneath the foundation was too great. Already they'd uncovered an arc of granite stones that formed a partial archway. Inside the frame they formed, a weird blue stone plugged the gap that should have provided a passage.

He didn't know what it was, but Tamlin knew as sure as the stars shone on a clear night that the uncovered artifact was a clue to his parents' disappearance. He would do nothing to delay its excavation.

"Put your backs into it, men."

Tamlin smiled in what he hoped was a beneficent manner as his men glanced up at their master. They hadn't understood his insistence about digging up the floor, and they understood even less what they saw there.

"Tamlin?" called a voice from behind him.

Tamlin turned, but there was nothing there but the wall-and the unseen secret door within it.

"Wait," said Tamlin. "Stop digging. Listen."

The hammering subsided, and the voice called again.

"Tamlin? Is that you?"

The voice sounded exactly like his father's, and it was definitely coming from behind the door.

"Talbot?" Tamlin called. "Is that you in there?"

His brother's talent for mimicry had often amused Tamlin, even before it played a role in rescuing him from the kidnappers. Under the present circumstances, however, it was a jest in very poor taste.

"No," replied the voice, this time more assured, as if the speaker had been initially dubious of Tamlin's identity, "it is your father. Where are you?"

Tamlin paused before answering, "I'm in your favorite room of the house."

Talbot would probably know the answer to his brother's simple test, but an outsider posing as his father would not.

"The wine cellar," he said. "Good!"

"Father! Where in the Nine Hells are you? I can barely hear you."

"Within the walls," he said.

"Wait," said Tamlin. "I'll follow your voice. You sound like you're in… You men, go up the stairs and tell Vox to double the guard, then come back here and resume the dig."

After the workmen had gone, Tamlin slipped through the hidden door and called, "All right, I'm in the secret passage. Where are you?"

They called back and forth, each seeking the source of the other's voice. Thamalon heard his father's voice more clearly, but no matter where he went, he remained alone in the secret passages.

"I think this is as close as we can come," said Thamalon.

"I still can't see you."

"Well," said Thamalon., "I think I know the reason for that."

They exchanged their stories of the days since Thamalon disappeared from the library. Tamlin was both astonished and relieved to hear of his father's transportation to another world, and Thamalon's voice turned cold and hard after Tamlin reported that Shamur and Cale had also vanished.

"Let us save the details for later," said Thamalon. "For now, the most important thing is keeping you and your siblings safe. The first thing you must do is to have yourself appointed as head of the family. I realize you may not feel entirely comfor-"

"Already done," said Tamlin.

"What? You mean you had me declared dead?"

"Weren't you just proposing I do exactly that?"

"Well, yes, naturally. I just didn't expect…" The idea that Tamlin had done something before being told to do so was slow to sink in. "What I mean, son, is well done."

"Thanks," said Tamlin, sounding more perfunctory than grateful. He was grateful for the praise, and normally he would have beamed and crowed about it, but this was a time for business. "Unfortunately, I'm having a beggar of a time decoding those secret letters of yours. I understand that you have been rallying other families in a concerted action, but I can't for my life figure out whether it's to establish a new trade consortium or an attempt to marginalize our worse rivals among the Old Chauncel."

Thamalon didn't respond for so long that Tamlin began to think their line of communication had broken.

"Father? Are you all right?"

"That was some good work, Tamlin. Now, if you compare the letters more closely, you should note the progression of dessert items actually spells out…"

"I had only the one letter, Father. The others were stolen."

Again, Thamalon paused before answering, though Tamlin suspected he was less surprised at his son's competence than at the ramifications of the theft.

"That means one of our enemies got into Stormweather."

"Or else he was already here," suggested Tamlin. "I have identified a likely traitor among the staff. Unfortunately, he escaped with the remaining letter before we could question him."

Thamalon sighed and said, "Then it's good you didn't finish decoding the letter after all. Perhaps the stolen letters will tell our enemies nothing."

"He also stole your cipher sheet and my notes on decrypting it."

"Blast," said Thamalon. "That makes it much worse."

"Naturally," said Tamlin, "all this would have been much easier if you'd taken me into your confidence before they got to you."

He immediately regretted the petulant words. They were useless and childish. Before Thamalon could chide him or even apologize, though, Tamlin spared him.

"I must admit, I don't blame you for that. I have been a bit of a gadabout, I know. Once we get you safely home, I promise I'll be of more help."

"Never mind that for now," said Thamalon. "Beware the Hulorn. He must have learned at least something of our designs."

"You meant to circumvent him on some approaching issue?"

"No," said Thamalon. "We mean to remove him entirely."

Tamlin whistled and said, "That is… rather a bold endeavor, wouldn't you say? Even if the other families do not agree with him, everyone wants a figurehead through which to advance their concerns and thwart those of their rivals."

"Agreed," said Thamalon, "but removing this Hulorn is necessary."

Tamlin had never really discussed Andeth Ilchammar with Thamalon, but he knew of his father's disdain for the eccentric lord mayor of Selgaunt. Tamlin had always found the man amusing, if not truly admirable among noble society.

"For far too long," Thamalon added, "Ilchammar's caprice has been an impediment to the prosperity of Selgaunt. Most do not know it, but he still nurtures the blackguard who nearly put us to war with the Tangled Trees last year."

"That wizard who offered to buy my half-sister from you last year?"

"Drakkar," agreed Thamalon-then a beat later, he blurted, "Half-sister?"

Tamlin suppressed a chuckle. He enjoyed letting the Old Owl know he had learned a secret or two in his father's absence. In other circumstances, he might enjoy watching him wriggle a while longer before letting him off the hook, but there would be time for that later.

"Four of your correspondents have been murdered since you vanished," said Tamlin, returning to business. "Stellana Toemalar was the latest."

"All the more reason to guard yourselves," said Thamalon.

"We'll be better prepared with you returned home," said Tamlin. "This vault of yours must be similar to what we're unearthing in the cellar. They must be two sides of a magical gateway."

"But who put it there?" countered Thamalon. "If it's buried beneath the cellar, it had to have been there since before you were born. How could our enemies have possibly placed it there?"

"You built the house on the site of the original Stormweather," offered Tamlin.

"What are you getting at?"

"Since magic was obviously involved in your disappearance, I've been doing a little reading," said Tamlin. He wasn't yet ready to admit that he'd hoped to prove he himself had sorcerous powers. The thought seemed almost too fanciful to repeat. "I wonder about your father's sudden display of magical power when your foes brought down the first Stormweather. What other secrets might old Aldimar have kept from you?"

"He was using wands," said Thamalon. "He never showed any other ability to hurl spells."

"Still, to employ such things well requires some knowledge or inherent power. Where did Aldimar get his?"

"Hmm," considered Thamalon. "Perhaps the gold I spent on your tutors was not entirely wasted."

"Not all of it," agreed Tamlin. "Once we've finished unearthing this gate, I will have Magdon figure out how to activate the thing."

"In the meantime," said Thamalon, "I must find your mother and Cale."

"No," said Tamlin, "first we'll get you back here, then we'll look for them together."

"You might be the temporary head of the household, but I am still your father, and I say…" Thamalon's voice was building to the familiar crescendo of irrefutable orders before it trailed off uncharacteristically. "Well, dark and damnation. I say you are right."

"What?" said Tamlin.

"I said, 'You are right.'"

"Careful," said Tamlin, "if we keep agreeing people will think we're both imposters."

"By the same coin, you must promise me that you will place the safety of the household above my rescue."

"Very well, but-"

"Including your brother's."

"Now you're just trying to vex me…" said Tamlin, "but I agree. I shall see to Stormweather first. It's settled then. Can you stay safely where you are?"

"Not for long, I fear," said Thamalon, "but perhaps I can return. My host should be back from his hunt soon. I expect hell go out again in the morning."

"Judging from what you've told me, you've been away for only eight days?"

Thamalon agreed it was so.

"Fourteen have passed here since you vanished."

It was Thamalon's turn to whistle appreciatively.

"Why could you never pay such careful attention during our trade conferences?" he asked.

"Such dull stuff, don't you know," said Tamlin. "Actually," he continued in a more serious tone, "I suspect I have a knack for this magic business after all."

"As well you might," said a third voice-a voice that sounded very much like Tamlin's, "but I am not prepared to relinquish my legacy just yet."

The passage shook, and Tamlin almost fell to the floor. He held onto the wall for support as thunder rolled through the secret passage. A flash of white light blinded him for an instant, and he heard his father shout a curse that disintegrated into a scream of agony.

"Father! What's happening there? I just saw-"

"You were such a timid boy," boomed the other Tamlin's voice. "From your brother I might have expected such willful abuse of my hospitality, but from you, Thamalon, you bookworm, you coin counter-" the man's laughter was full of mock admiration- "I expected much less."

For a moment, Tamlin thought the patronizing voice was addressing him, then Thamalon spoke again.

"Father! How did you…?" the Old Owl managed to say before his voice failed.

Tamlin had only seen the flashing light, but he feared his father had felt its full power.

"Whoever you are, release my father at once!" demanded Tamlin. He gripped his sword, wishing he could thrust its point through the worlds and into the heart of the villain who tormented his sire. "Return him now, or suffer the wrath of the Uskevren."

"Brave boy!" the man's laughter boomed even louder. "I am the wrath of the Uskevren."

Then, with a shock of thunder and another blinding flash, the stranger severed whatever tenuous link had held the two houses together.