Page 95 of Games of Death and Desire

Our strange procession draws to a halt at a looming stone barrier. We’ve reached the back end of the massive wall that surrounds the entire campus.

Guards will be patrolling all the way around it, but there mustn’t be any within sight right now. The man I think is Torstem steps forward and presses his hands to the lichen-spotted stones.

I can’t see what he does or make out any words from the faint murmur that leaves his lips. Then the stones seem to ripple as if the shadows are condensing in a thicker patch right in front of him.

It looks like the secret passage in the hall of tapestries. As our escort prods us onward, a chill seeps through my skin.

The scourge sorcerers have managed to alter the walls of the school itself during the time they’ve been active here. What other defenses have they managed to penetrate?

A deeper chill washes over me on my way through the conjured opening, and then I’m standing on the rocky bank of the Starsil River.

At this early hour, only a couple of spots of lantern light gleam among the middle-ward buildings on the other side of the coursing waters. No one stirs on the streets.

The man in charge leads us several paces along the bank to what looks like a bunch of scattered boards. When I’m close enough, the image shimmers with a tingle of magic, the boards melding into a small wooden boat.

An illusion—designed to conceal the watercraft they’ve stashed here.

There’s nothing I can do but clamber onto the boat at the swordsman’s gesture. Benedikt follows. The leader, the swordsman, and three other figures sit around us.

We cast off onto the water. No one brings out paddles, and the craft has no sail, but somehow we glide along a fairly straight course along the river. The tingling sensation I felt before heightens—there’s more magic guiding us on our path.

It takes us diagonally across the Starsil, avoiding the built-up banks within the city proper, gliding on toward the wilder stretch beyond the main walls.

I spot a few members of the Crown’s Watch on guard on the city side, but the illusion must hide us well enough. Not a single shout goes up.

No one’s patrolling in the sparse forest across from the main harbor. We disembark and trudge on, leaving the city behind.

None of the conspirators have spoken the whole time. I assume they don’t want to risk discovery, but the silence gnaws at me.

How far are we going? Do I still have a chance at turning this situation around, or are they cutting their losses and marching both of us to our deaths?

The sound of the palace bell filters through the trees, marking the fourth hour. The forestland thickens around us, the ground starting to slope upward.

I’m not sure how much farther we’ve walked before the man who might be Torstem signals for us to stop.

We’ve reached a low cliff face, only about twice as tall as my scrawny frame. The swordsman directs us to a narrow crack that turns out to be the entrance to a cave.

“You’ll wait here while we confer,” the man in charge tells us.

He picks up a lantern from just beyond the cave entrance, lights it, and ushers us inside.

It’s clear they’ve kept prisoners in this place before. The conspirators lead us down a short passage to a small cavern only about ten paces across… with several chains fixed to the walls, manacles attached to their ends.

As the swordsman pushes me to sit down next to a length of chain, Julita shudders in my head. I have to restrain a cringe of my own, letting the sorcerer clamp the manacle around my ankle.

At the other side of the cavern, the lead man grasps Benedikt’s shroud. “This will only get in the way now. The accusations go both ways; you should be on equal ground.”

He wrenches the fabric off Benedikt’s head in one yank.

Itishim. The jaunty bastard’s bastard stares across the cave at me, his golden hair rumpled and his mouth clamped flat as if he’s trying not to vomit.

My gut lurches at the confirmation. I manage to take him in with a slight furrow of my brow, as if I’m confused rather than shocked or horrified.

The conspirators will be watching my reaction, judging whether I have any connection to this man.

It’s a good thing they can’t hear Julita’s yelp that rings through my head.Benny—what in the realms—how thefuckcould he—

Apparently she didn’t pick up on the same hints I did. Not surprising when her awareness of what I see and hear is dulled, if it’s anything like what I experienced the one time I let her spirit take over.

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