Sianim 01 - Masques

to do. Alone against the ae’Magi, she had no chance. Not only was he a better magician (by several orders of magnitude), but, if he was Wolf’s equal with a sword, he was a much better fighter than Aralorn.
    The smells of the dungeon had become strong, and the stench didn’t help her stomach, which was already clinched with nerves. In the guardroom, she abandoned the staff because she didn’t know how to stop the crystals from glowing.
    She sheathed the sword and dropped to her belly, ignoring the filth on the cold stone floor. Slowly, she slid into the dungeon, keeping to one side. The voices that had been indistinct were now intelligible. She heard Wolf speaking, and the huge weight of grief lifted off her shoulders.
    “. . . why should I make this easier for you than I already have? This is a very easy shield to break through, most third-year magicians could do it. Would you like me to show you how?” Wolf’s voice was weaker than she’d ever heard it, but there was no more emotion in it than it ever had. “It does have the unfortunate effect of incinerating whatever the shield is guarding.”
    “Ah, but I have another method of removing your protection.” The ae’Magi’s voice was a smooth contrast to his son’s. “I have been informed that the girl that you so impetuously sent away has returned all alone. She should be here momentarily if she isn’t already.”
    For an instant, Aralorn plastered herself motionless to the floor before her common sense reasserted itself. It really didn’t matter if the ae’Magi knew she was coming, the element of surprise wasn’t going to help her much anyway. What did matter was that somehow Wolf had managed to hold the ae’Magi at bay, and no matter how much Wolf cared for her, he knew that it was more important that the ae’Magi not be able to control Wolf’s powers. He wouldn’t give himself to the ae’Magi just to save her skin . . . she hoped.
    She inched forward a few steps more until she could see Wolf revealed by the light of the ae’Magi’s staff. He sat in almost the same position that he had been in when she left him. He had drawn a single orange line of power around himself, and there was something different about his position. She looked carefully and saw that he was cautiously moving his toes. She smiled; he had bought enough time with his barrier to heal himself.
    Aralorn drew the sword and stepped into the light in front of Wolf. She expected an immediate reaction, but the ae’Magi was pacing back and forth with his back to her.
    “. . . you should not have crossed me. With your power and my knowledge, you could have become a god with me. That’s all that the gods were, did you know it? Mages who had discovered the secret to eternal life, and I have it now. I will be a god, the only god, and you will help me do it.”
    All of the dictates of honor demanded that she call attention to herself before she attacked. Aralorn, however, was a spy and a rotten swordswoman besides, so she struck him in the back.
    Unfortunately the same spell that had rendered her knife useless previously was also effective against the sword, which slid harmlessly through him and knocked Aralorn off-balance. She turned her fall into a roll and kept going until she hit a wall. Although the sword hadn’t done the magician any harm, the metal grip had heated enough that she was forced to drop it on the ground.
    It had something to do with hitting a magician with metal, she supposed.
    “Ah,” said the ae’Magi with a smile, “who would think that the son of my flesh would fall for a silly girl who is stupid enough to try the same trick twice.”
    He turned to Wolf and started to say something else, but Aralorn quit listening. She couldn’t believe that the Archmage was just dismissing her. She decided not to question her luck and began to shapechange, trusting that Wolf would see her and keep the ae’Magi’s attention long enough that she could complete the transition to icelynx.
    “Don’t discount Aralorn so lightly, you may be surprised,” commented Wolf, stretching the stiff muscles of his neck. “Certainly I never thought that she could get back from the Northlands so quickly. Perhaps the Old Man of the Mountain sent her back.”
    The ae’Magi snorted in disbelief. “You could not have sent her so far; the Northlands would have blocked such transportation. I do not care where she was. As for the Old Man of the Mountain myth, there is no such