It wasn’t just that they glowed with a kind of inner light. It was that the glow was fired by the gift, yet unlike any light of the gift she had ever seen before. It was at once dead and empty, but alive with menace.
Magda was so shocked by what she saw that it stopped her cold for an instant.
Then, that frozen instant shattered with a crack that made her ears ring. The room suddenly spun in her vision. Her back smacked the wall, driving the air from her lungs. Her head hit the stone so hard that it knocked her senseless. Through the pall of pain she only dimly heard the terrible roar of the thing, only dimly saw blurry movement in the swirling room.
Magda could taste dry stone dust and blood. She realized then that the man had struck her with a blow so powerful it had lifted her from her feet and thrown her back across the room.
She was distantly surprised to realize that she still had her knife gripped tightly in her fist. Isidore’s warm blood ran down Magda’s arm and over her hand, making for a slippery hold on her knife.
Magda blinked, trying to clear her vision as she struggled to get her breath back. Looking up from the floor, she saw the man in a wild fury ripping into Isidore. He tore off the side of Isidore’s face and top of her skull with one powerful blow, the rest of her head with the next.
The dark figure roared as he flailed and ripped at Isidore’s body. Blood and gore from the poor woman splattered across the floor and up against the walls as he swung both arms in mad fury.
In a strange pall of quiet shock, Magda told herself that it was too late to do anything but escape. If she didn’t get away, she would be next.
As the man bellowed in a wild frenzy of savagery, she told herself that there was nothing she could do for Isidore. This was her only chance to get away. She knew that she had only a few fleeting seconds if she was to live.
She told herself to move.
Magda scrambled to her feet and staggered toward the black entrance to the hallway out. She snatched up her lantern on the way past.
Once into the hall, she looked back over her shoulder as she ran. She was still stunned from the blow, and her wobbly legs wouldn’t move fast enough. She could see the man back through the entrance, finished ripping Isidore apart, turn toward her.
A cry of anguish for Isidore caught in Magda’s throat as she struggled to run. The cat appeared out of the dark doorway and raced after her.
Chapter 38
In a daze, Magda stumbled as she ran. Tears streamed down her face. Blood dripped from her fist holding the knife. Glancing down at her arms, she thought it looked as if she had just butchered someone.
As she ran, she struggled to comprehend what she had just seen. She knew that something only remotely human, or maybe only once human, had just slaughtered Isidore. It made no sense.
It was such a horrific sight, such a shock, that she was already questioning if she had really seen what she knew she had seen when she had looked into the man’s face. She began to wonder if it could have been a trick of the shadows.
But she knew it wasn’t.
She cried out in fright when she suddenly ran into one of the walls of hanging cloth. It caught her, flapping around her like arms grabbing for her. She slashed wildly with her knife, frantically trying to get away from what she thought for a second was the man who had killed Isidore trying to seize her.
She shoved the cloth aside and started running. She could only see a short distance ahead into the empty maze of halls.
She looked down as she ran, fumbling with the lantern door, trying to get it open so that she could see better. It finally sprang open, casting a bit of useful light into the passageway.
She realized that, lost in the maze as she was, she would soon be the next victim of the thing that had killed Isidore. It was coming for her. If she was wandering around aimlessly it would likely be able to catch her in short order.
Magda thrust a hand into her pocket, frantically searching for the map that Tilly had given her. She dug around with trembling fingers but couldn’t find the map. She didn’t know if she’d dropped it as she was running, or if she’d lost it in the fight. All she knew for sure was that the map wasn’t in her pocket.
She turned back the way she had come, holding the lantern up, trying to see if she had dropped the map when she had fought her way out of the embrace of the hanging cloth. She didn’t see it on the ground anywhere.
She heard a sound. She thought she saw a dark shape move back in the direction she’d come from.
Then she saw the glow of his eyes off in the darkness, like some goblin from her childhood nightmares come to life.
Magda abandoned the search for the map and started running. She knew that it was foolish to run in a maze without knowing where she was going, but she was too panicked to stop herself.
Besides, what choice did she have?
She ran with wild abandon, taking random passageways at intersections. From time to time she could hear the dead man in the distance behind her. He let out a growl of rage as he came, his feet sometimes dragging on the floor. Magda ran all the faster, imagining the goblin from her nightmares hot on her heels. She knew that she didn’t stand a chance fighting against him. She had to get away.
She was suddenly brought up short in a dead end. She spun around and saw the man step into the passageway from a side hall, blocking her way back. Magda stood panting, knife clenched tightly in her fist, trying to decide what to do.
His glowing eyes watched her, and then he started toward her. As he got closer, the cat sprang out of the darkness onto the man’s head, clawing at his gleaming eyes with wild fury. He twisted to the side, his arms thrashing, trying to swipe the cat off his head.
Magda knew that it was her only chance. She didn’t hesitate. She ran toward the man and the only way out. As she reached him, she bent low and slammed her shoulder into his ribs, knocking him to the side. He lost his balance and fell against the wall.
Pain shot through her shoulder from the solid impact with his rocklike torso. Magda was already past him and running at full speed as the cat sprang off the man and raced after her.
Magda took intersection after intersection, ducking around heavy panels of hanging cloth whenever they appeared unexpectedly out of the darkness. She didn’t know where she was or how to escape the maze. She was simply trying to lose the man close on her heels. The man who had killed Isidore.
Charging down a long hallway, she suddenly came upon another hanging cloth that loomed up out of the darkness. Magda pushed it to the side with an arm as she went around it. When she did so, she realized that it was different from the others she had encountered. Unlike the others, this one was light and airy.
Almost immediately, before she could wonder at the silken nature of the cloth, she saw in the weak lantern light that it was a dead end. She couldn’t go any farther.
Magda spun around. The man had already reached the other side of the cloth wall blocking the passageway. It was too late to go back the way she had come.
The man slowed. He had her trapped in a dead end.
Magda stood frozen in panic, gulping air. She could see the reddish glow of his eyes through the gauzy cloth.
She had nowhere to run.
Chapter 39
Magda could see his boots just on the other side of the hanging cloth. Her back was to the wall at the dead end of the corridor. The delicate cloth hung perfectly still, not three paces away from her.
She tried to think what to do, how she could get away. She thought that maybe, if he came around one side, she could dash out the other side at the same time and run.
But where? She didn’t have the map. She realized, then, that even if she had the map it likely wouldn’t do her much good. There was really no way to run and read the map at the same time. It had been hard enough to decipher when she had been able to stand still, study it, and count intersections.
The truth was she was lost in the maze. A maze designed to attract the spirits of the dead. Magda didn’t think that this man, or creature, or whatever it was, had been what Isidore had been trying to attract, but in dealing with dark forces perhaps she had inadvertently gotten the attention of things she hadn’t intended to attract.
An arm thrust around the cloth, clawing at the air, as if trying to feel around to find her, hoping to snag flesh.
Magda pressed her back against the wall behind, trying to stay as far away from the sweep of the clawed hand as possible. The cloth was sheer enough that had there been light beyond in the tunnel she would probably have been able to see the man through it. With her lantern, she thought that he could probably see her. She turned the lantern window aside, hoping not to illuminate herself for him.
She leaned to the side away from the arm reaching blindly for her and carefully peered through the small gap between the wall and the other end of the cloth. The hall wasn’t as wide as some. She could see that if she went for the gap opposite the man he would likely be able to reach over and grab her.
Again he swung the arm, groping into the dead end, trying to catch her up. She was far enough away from where he was standing, though, that he couldn’t reach her.
But as soon as he came around the flimsy, hanging cloth, he would be able to snatch her unless she could somehow get past him as he came for her. She was fast, but from what she had seen back in Isidore’s place, he was faster. Making it worse, the hall wasn’t very wide. There was no maneuvering room.
Magda wondered how long it would be until he came around and had her. She kept imagining being ripped open the way he had ripped open Isidore. She knew that the end was going to come at any moment.
But instead, he moved to the other side of the cloth, reaching around with his other hand, clawing the air on that side. He didn’t even lean over and look around, probably because his glowing eyes could see her on the other side of the cloth. She could see those eyes clearly enough, and they only added to her terror.
Even as she gasped for air, trying to get her breath as she struggled to figure out what to do, Magda frowned. Why didn’t he simply come around the cloth to get her? It was obvious that he knew she was back there.
He roared in frustration, slashing wildly, blindly, around the side of the cloth. He raced over to the other side, trying again to reach back and snag her. But he wasn’t leaning in far enough to get to her. She couldn’t imagine why not.
It seemed like the silky cloth was somehow keeping him back.
Magda wondered... could it be?
She remembered Isidore saying that some of the spells on the hanging fabric were her own creation. Isidore knew more about the underworld and the dead than most people.
Magda held the lantern up. She could see then, through the diaphanous cloth, besides his glowing eyes, that there were symbols all over the other side. They were drawn rather crudely with what looked to be a thin wash of paint that wrinkled the fabric. Magda could see that they were definitely spell-forms. She tried to picture in her mind what they would look like if she were on the other side and wasn’t looking at them backward.
She had frequently seen Baraccus draw spells. She tried to think if she recognized these drawn spells. They were unusual; they didn’t look like anything she had ever seen Baraccus draw.
The man lunged, reaching around the side, grasping empty air with his clawed fingers. Magda ducked in and jabbed at the filmy cloth, pushing it toward him. He stepped back with a surprised, angry growl, then raced to the other side to try again to reach around and get her while she was close.
Magda remembered Isidore saying that the spells she had drawn were born of her work as a spiritist, and that they were both powerful and significant.
Magda remembered Isidore saying The dead must heed them.
The man on the other side hadn’t yet tried to come past the cloth but he showed no signs of giving up. She knew that he would not leave until he had her. If anything, he was getting ever more frantic to reach her.
There was no telling when or if someone, someone like a wizard, would be coming down to the maze to see Isidore. But even if someone did come to visit the spiritist, it was possible that they wouldn’t come this way. The maze was a sprawling complex. For all Magda knew, she could be far off the regular route in. Even if someone did come to see Isidore, they might never come this way and happen across Magda.
Worse, even if someone did come this way they very likely would be killed just as swiftly as Isidore had been murdered. Isidore had used powerful magic and it hadn’t saved her.
Magda could be stuck down in the deserted tunnels forever, with the crazed killer ready to strike at any moment. For all she knew it was possible that his fear of the symbols on the cloth might only be a stopgap measure that wouldn’t hold him back for long. Once he got past that thin piece of cloth, it would be a horrific, painful death.
Magda realized that if she was going to escape certain death, she was going to have to get away on her own.
She had an idea. An idea she didn’t like one bit.
With her heart pounding nearly out of control, she clutched the knife tighter in her fist.
She didn’t see that she had a choice.
Chapter 40
As the man beyond the hanging cloth moved from one side to the other, when he was about in the middle, Magda shoved the cloth toward him as hard as she could. Through the cloth, she could feel his body on the other side. His middle didn’t feel at all soft like a living person’s. It felt more like a tree trunk.
He roared at the contact with the thin cloth and stepped back. Recovering quickly, he lunged to one side, his arm coming around, trying to grab her as she was still pushing at the cloth. His clawed hand caught a few strands of her short hair. Magda jerked her head away before he could get a better grasp.
As he reached, sweeping the air, trying for more of her hair, Magda used all her strength to stab the blade deep into his hand. The blade pierced through his palm, coming out the back of his hand. He didn’t cry out in pain, but instead yanked the hand back, pulling it off the blade to free it. He shoved the hand back toward her, sure that she was close and he would get her when she stabbed at him again.
Magda used the opening as he was occupied in reaching for her, thinking he had her, to race to the other side of the fabric panel. Without pause, she shot around the cloth. His dark shape turned abruptly when he saw her dash past him.
Magda sprinted at full speed down the corridor, too frightened to look back. But she didn’t need to look back. She could hear him coming. As hard has she ran, she could hear him getting ever closer. He was as tireless as he was powerful.
Magda ducked around another hanging and took a turn to the right, then at the next intersection another right, then a left, in her mind marking the turns she took. The heavy hangings she encountered along the way didn’t seem to trouble him the way the wispy one at the dead end had. He kept coming.
Even holding the lantern out as she ran, she still couldn’t see very far ahead. She feared that she would run into another dead end, but one without the protective cloth, and then he would have her trapped.
As intersections appeared she took them at random and without hesitation, but still took note of each turn in case she came to a dead end and had to retrace her steps. As fast as she was running, and the way he was getting closer all the time, she knew that if she came upon another dead end, it would likely be the end of her. Even so, she knew that she couldn’t afford to slow for anything.
Despite her fear, despite how hard she ran to escape, she couldn’t keep the horrific memories of Isidore being slaughtered out of her mind. She knew that she had to think, but the thought of such a fate also happening to her was filling her mind. She could only imagine the pain and the terror of such a death. The only mercy was that it had been swift.
Magda looked up when she heard the cat yowl. The cat, a bit out ahead, turned back toward her. When Magda met the cat’s gaze, the cat took a side passageway and started running.
The thought occurred to Magda that the cat had found the way in to Isidore’s room on its own.
Magda wondered if maybe Shadow could find her way out as well.
She didn’t know what else to do and she had no better idea, so she started chasing after Shadow, taking every turn the cat took. With her tail high in the air, the tip hooked forward, Shadow raced through the halls.
Magda glanced back over her shoulder and saw the glowing eyes. He had gained on her and was only two or three strides behind. She would have screamed, but she knew that if she did it would slow her just enough for him to grab her. Instead of screaming, she focused all her effort on running as hard as she could, trying to keep up with the dark streak of the cat.
The cat cut to the right at an intersection, but then abruptly stopped and looked off into the dark. It reversed direction and took to the left instead. Magda hesitated for just an instant, not knowing if she should keep up her momentum to stay out of the reach of the man, or follow Shadow. She chose to follow the cat rather than risk losing her only guide out and again being trapped in a dead end.
That instant was all the man needed. His arms circled around her middle.
Magda spun around before he completely closed his arms around her. She struck hard, slashing the knife across his throat. She saw bits of dried flesh fly off from the deep gash, but no blood. The wound didn’t slow the man.
She slammed the knife into his chest, fist deep, over and over, then dipped her head under his arm when he tried to hook it around her neck.
As Magda slipped through his grasp, she spun around to the side of him. Hard as she could, she kicked the back of his knee. His leg buckled and he started to fall but staggered back and caught his balance before he fell.
Even though he stayed on his feet, it was just long enough for Magda to bolt away, out of his reach. Bellowing a deep growl that echoed through the halls, he charged after her.
As she ran after the cat, trying to keep it within the limited range of the lantern light, Magda couldn’t see well enough and took a turn in the corridor too wide. The man took the inside, shorter line around the corner.
In that instant, he darted ahead of her, blocking her route. The cat stopped and looked back at her. The dark silhouette between them waited to see what she would do, where she would run.
Back beyond the man standing in the center of the corridor blocking her way, back beyond the cat, Magda saw light. She realized that they were at the entrance of the maze.
Despite the welcome light beyond the man that offered the way out, Magda couldn’t get to it. The man started stalking toward her. Magda didn’t want to run back into the dark passageways. She was close to being out of the maze, but with his feet spread and his arms out to the sides, she knew that there would be no getting by him this time.
As she started backing up to keep some space between her and the man, Magda thought she heard people in the distance yelling. She yelled back to them.
Hearing her yell for help, the man started to run toward her. Just then, something dark swooped in, hitting the back of his head. Magda could see the cat in the distance, waiting for her, so she knew it wasn’t the cat.
When she heard the loud cry, she realized that it was a bird. She saw broad, inky wings fluttering and realized that it was a raven.
It must have been one of the birds she had seen earlier that had come in one of the high windows in the large chamber and gotten itself trapped down inside the Keep’s vast network of halls. She knew that it was a relatively common occurrence and that when they became desperate they sometimes panicked.
The raven let out a piercing cry as it attacked the man’s head. He swiped at it, trying to fight it off. The raven withdrew every time he swung, avoiding his arms, only to dive in again and renew the attack.
The man stumbled to the side, careening into the wall as he tried to get the bird away from him.
When Magda saw her opening she didn’t hesitate. She raced past him, toward the light. She no longer needed the cat to show her the way. She simply followed the distant glow of light.
Coming around a corner Magda abruptly encountered a small cluster of men. Some had torches while others had spheres that cast a greenish light. She recognized the gift in their eyes.
“What is it?” one of the men asked. “What’s happened?”
Magda pointed back. “A man—a dead man. He murdered Isidore. He came in and killed her.”
The wizard leaned in and frowned. “A dead man?”
Magda swiped sweaty stray strands of hair back out of her eyes. “I don’t know. I don’t know what he was or who he was. But he looked dead and he wasn’t stopped by her magic.” She lifted the bloody knife. “And he wasn’t stopped by this. I stabbed him a dozen times at least. It didn’t even slow him down.”
The men shared looks before peering off down the dark passageways. She thought they would question her, or argue with her. They didn’t.
The raven suddenly burst out of the darkness and flew past them, back toward the lighted corridors.
“Those birds are always getting lost down here,” one of the men grumbled.
“Come on,” the first man said to the others.
As afraid as she was, Magda followed after the men, expecting that at any moment they would encounter the dead man. Despite the men being wizards, she wasn’t entirely confident that they grasped the true danger of the threat. She wasn’t entirely sure, despite their numbers, that they could handle the man who had killed Isidore.
Some of men broke away from the main group to take different routes through the maze to search for the intruder. She followed not far behind the man she took to be the one in charge, the one who had spoken to her at first, until they made it all the way back to the sight of Isidore’s slaughter. In the light of torches and the light spheres it was, if anything, an even more horrific sight than she remembered.
The men didn’t waste any time once they saw that the spiritist was well beyond any help. In grim silence, they quickly searched her quarters before they began retracing their steps through the maze. Along the way they looked in every room and behind every cloth hanging over the entrances to side halls. It was not hard to see how angry the men were as they searched for the one responsible for such a crime.
Eventually they found themselves almost back at the entrance without coming across any sign of the man who had killed Isidore. Guards at the entrance told them that no one had tried to come through. The man in charge told the others that they would keep searching until they found the killer.
As they again made their way off into the dark maze to continue the search, Magda paused. She stood alone after the men had gone, listening to the hiss of her lantern as she considered what she should do. Considering what she dared to do.
She remembered the route at the end when she was being chased. She had counted the turns. She knew the way back. At least back far enough.
She knew what she had to do.
Magda scooped up the cat and started back into the darkness.
Chapter 41
Magda stood when the six men filed into the quiet room. A row of small, high windows let in glowing streamers of early sunlight that cut diagonally across the gloomy space.
Elder Cadell gestured without looking up at her before pulling out his own tall-backed chair. “Please, have a seat.”
Magda did as he asked, sitting in the single, simple, and rather uncomfortable wooden chair set before a highly polished mahogany table in the council’s private chambers. Though her chair was simple, the six chairs on the other side with Elder Cadell and Councilmen Sadler, Clay, Hambrook, Weston, and Guymer were quite elaborate, as were the three walls of floor-to-ceiling bookcases packed tightly with faded leather-bound volumes.
The furniture was intended to emphasize to people the difference in status between any of the council and those coming before them. Magda suspected that they had sent word that they would like to see her privately, before they began the day’s session, so as to avoid a repeat of anything like the last time.
A steady stream of people had sought Magda out since that day in the council session, asking her to help them with swearing the oath to Lord Rahl in order to protect themselves against the dream walkers. She had met with hundreds of people who had heard about what she said before the council that day and who were afraid of the dream walkers. With good reason.
While the council had not forbidden such an oath—after all, D’Hara was part of the New World and on the same side in the war—they privately chafed at people giving a devotion to Lord Rahl. Their official position was that while dream walkers were indeed real and presented a danger, the enemy was not yet advanced enough to put such a weapon into use, so while the threat was genuine, it was distant in the future.
Other than the attack against herself, Magda could provide no proof otherwise. But many people didn’t want to take the chance and learn too late that the council was wrong.
“I had been expecting to see you sooner,” Magda said when they were all seated.
“The war grows more desperate by the day,” Elder Cadell said without looking up as he lifted one paper after another from the table before him, glancing over each briefly before setting it aside and going on to the next. “We have been trying to keep from losing the effort.”
Councilman Sadler only briefly glanced her way between selecting specific papers from his own stack and handing them to the elder. Some of the other men were not interested in the papers. They were glaring at her.
“Of course,” Magda said, dipping her head respectfully. With the elder continuing to look through papers, and several of the others staring at her, she felt compelled to say something. “Have you found the... person responsible for Isidore’s murder?”
Elder Cadell looked up from under bushy brows. “Some people seem to think that you are responsible.”
“Me?” Magda felt her face flush. “And have these people managed to explain how I could rip a person apart like that with my bare hands?”
The elder grunted before returning his attention to a paper that Sadler handed to him.
“That’s true,” Councilman Clay said. “She isn’t gifted, after all.”
“She had a knife,” Councilman Guymer reminded him. “A bloody knife.”
“Isidore’s skull was torn in half,” Magda said. “An axe could do such damage, but not a mere knife, especially not one wielded by me.”
“I didn’t say that we believed you are responsible,” Elder Cadell intoned. He looked up and lifted an eyebrow. “I said some people think you are.”
Magda didn’t know what he was getting at.
“People often believe a lot of things that aren’t true,” she said. “I wish I had a way to reveal the truth for you, but I don’t.”
“The spiritist was doing valuable work for the war effort,” Guymer said. “And now, while you were alone with her, we lost her rare talents.”
Magda came up out of her chair. “If you are suggesting—”
“What were you doing down there?” Councilman Sadler asked in a quiet voice meant to override Guymer’s accusation. “What business did you have with a spiritist?”
Magda sank back down into her chair. “What do you think I was doing seeing a spiritist?”
Sadler shrugged. “You tell me.”
“I had what business anyone going to see a spiritist would have. I wanted to contact the spirits.”
Councilman Weston lifted an eyebrow. “Contact spirits? For what purpose?”
“I miss my husband,” Magda said. “What other purpose would there be to see a spiritist? I wanted to know that he is safe in the arms of the good spirits, to know that he is at peace. Perhaps none of you miss Baraccus, or worry and pray for his soul, but I do.”
Looking rather uncomfortable for the first time, some of the men leaned back.
“You are not the only one who misses him,” Sadler said.
Magda thought that he sounded sincere.
“And was the spiritist able to help you?” Weston asked. “Did you find out what you needed in order to put your mind at ease about Baraccus?”
“No. She was killed before...” Magda turned away and swallowed at the terrible memory. She cleared her throat and looked back to the men watching her.
“So, has the murderer been found?” she asked.
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