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Chapter 36

The Return of the Duke

January 19, 281 H.E.

Deryne sat up with a gasp; Inar sat by her side, watching her solemnly. She paid him no attention for the moment, trying to understand what was happening. A darkened room- uneven stone underneath her- a cavern? Underground?

"Where are we?" The shackles on her wrists were oddly familiar; she could not have said the day before that she remembered their weight from the day Malvyn had held her and Cyne prisoner, but they carried a resigned sense of déjà vu that made her stomach sink to her knees. "Inar?" When she looked at him, he glared out into the darkness.

"Guess," he said darkly. Bewildered, Deryne gazed around the chamber once more, allowing her eyes to adjust to the light, provided by several torches scattered around them. She stood, slowly, noting the iron pedestal that both of them were chained before she started, alarmed; there were people surrounding them, their figures barely discernable in the dark-

Instinctively, she clutched Inar's shoulder as she backed away, legs trembling weakly.

"Just statues," she heard him say dully, and she swallowed heavily before sinking back down to her knees.

"Statues?" she echoed uneasily, turning to her companion. He nodded silently, eyes evasive. She touched his chin, forcing him to look at her as she struggled to understand the workings of his mind. "Inar, I don't- I can't possibly know-"

"The Black Caverns," he said flatly. Deryne stared at him. "We're in the Black Caverns."

"So Deryne decided to abandon me for your study?" Cadel asked dryly when he saw Numair Salmalin the day after the ball in his knight master's honor. "Not that I blame her, sir, but she could have taken me with her." The black robe smiled. "How long did you two mages work on her little spells, anyway? She must have been up late." Numair shrugged.

"It wasn't late- but she dashed out like a Stormwing running from a bath," he replied, bemused. "Why?" Cadel smiled.

"Because she hasn't left her room yet today; she must have been sleeping soundly this morning," he added with a laugh. "I knocked and yelled at her door for a few minutes this morning. Sir Alan promised to point her in my direction whenever she decides to get up." The black robe was frowning now.

"That isn't like Deryne; she's an early riser, late night or no," the man observed. "She panicked a little last night… about necromancy." His brow furrowed; why would Deryne be so concerned about summonings? Why didn't she tell him what was going on? Did she know someone- a friend, one she refused to tattle on…?

Seeing the man's withdrawal, Cadel left Numair with a goodbye, muttering something about sparring.

No… the only University mage- and student mage it was sure to be- she knew was Rikash….

No… surely not…. That was more than a leaping bound to a farfetched conclusion…. Certainly not-

Spinning on his heel, the black robe mage headed towards the city gates, face grim.

The hairs of the back of her neck rose as Inar's words rushed through her mind. Her grip on his shoulder tightened.

"The-" Deryne could not speak; Inar reached up to envelop her hand in his own, firm and gentle hold squeezing her fingers comfortingly. "How?"

"An interesting question, dear," someone said; Deryne jumped. As she began to rise to her feet, Inar grabbed her and pulled her into him as they looked out, listening to the footsteps echoing across the cavern. Her teeth gritted together.

"Malvyn," she snarled, eyes straining to catch sight of any movement in the blackness. How she needed her gudruna now! "When I get my hands on you-"

"Except you aren't." He stepped out, dimly illuminated by the torch burning at his feet. His boots trampled the flame beneath them. She could not see his face, but she was certain he smiled. "Not when you haven't any little magics to help you. I wouldn't test you that way again, Queenscove- not now, when you've mastered all your little tricks. Thankfully, I know them all by now; it helps, to have a goddess on your side."

"I've got a god on mine," she retorted, fists clenched. Malvyn chuckled a little at that; he took another step towards the pair.

"Except that you are all the little tricks he has," he replied, voice malevolent. "Everything he had, invested in you- and now you're caught. He knew not to put all his eggs in one basket… but then again, he hardly had a choice, did he?" Deryne felt cold, colder than she had felt in her life. "But Her Majesty has thousands of baskets, doesn't she?" Deryne frowned.

"Why ask us?" she asked sharply as her mind whirled. Her Majesty… a queen- Malvyn shook his head with a laugh.

"Shadows, for one," he continued, ignoring her question. Deryne stiffened.

"The Queen of Chaos?" she asked, voice hoarse. She felt Inar flinch; he held her hand so tightly it hurt. The Destroyer of Worlds, and he wanted to help her? "Why?"

"She is ever so much more crafty than your little gods," Malvyn answered, relish in his voice. "And can meddle so much more, too- she is part of the balance, the scales that tipped in her favor once the gods decided to betray their own and ruin the Old Ways." Deryne stared at him, mouth agape.

"How could a mortal be so stupid?" she demanded.

"We are the clever ones," he answered. "Those who sought out the Queen… and discovered the reason for you four." Inar leaned forwards, shifting his body so that he was between Deryne and their captor. Deryne's lips were dry as she spoke.

"What-"

"Don't ask," Inar snapped harshly. Malvyn laughed; his teeth gleamed like knives ready for the slaughter as he shook.

"You're trying to protect her," he said at last. "Now, there is the jest of the millenia."

"Go away," Inar hissed.

"But the lady wants to know the point of her existence," Malvyn said, voice mockingly polite. "It isn't often that one can learn that, before her death- I think I should oblige." Deryne's fingers found purchase in the iron wrought pedestal; they wrapped around the cold metal that held her prisoner. "You were born to destroy the world; you and your three little friends." Deryne's head spun; her breathing rasped in her ears. "Four powers meant to sacrifice to One. To establish that One forever, and vanquish her enemies, once and for all." Malvyn came close enough for her to see his savage grin. "The power to kill gods," he whispered. "Put in four, feeble mortals so that the fastest hunter will triumph. Was there any doubt, what the outcome would be?" He pointed to the pedestal they were chained to. "Four sides, you see." Ignoring the sick churning in her stomach, Deryne spoke, feeling detached from the world around her; how could this be happening?

"So you're going to let Inar go. You have to, to have all four of us here." Inar's hold on her did not falter. Malvyn grinned.

"I will," he replied simply. "All in good time-" A wave of anger rose inside her at his smirking.

"Why did you even bring him into this?" she snapped. "Dragged him in just because he was with me-?"

"You shouldn't flatter yourself so much," Malvyn drawled, studying his fingernails. "He has his own part in this, you see." Her brow furrowed; questions she refused to ask came to the tip of her tongue. But Malvyn must have seen the confusion in her eyes, for he added with dark glee, "Let's perform another test, shall we?" Her first urge was to sneer at the man dangling lies and tales before her, but forboding stilled those thoughts when Inar released her. He stood, then stepped back from her, as far as his chains would allow. She watched him, feeling sick.

"Inar-?" she asked quietly as he glowered at Malvyn.

"Do it," he growled, pale eyes narrowed. "You scum-" The mage snorted.

"Why would I injure you, Ferensfell?" he queried, nasty laughter on the last words. He jerked a finger towards Deryne. "She isn't needed whole- better for her to be lying on the threshold of death, anyway-" Deryne had enough time to see alarm penetrate Inar's face before she was forced onto her back. Adrenaline pouring through her veins, she looked up, face to face with a Shadow. Where had that come from?!

She cried out in fear, swiping at it to no avail. Its forehead pulsed wildly; teeth rushed down towards her. She closed her eyes-

"Stop!" someone shouted. Why hadn't it killed her yet…? "Get off her," the voice continued, dangerously low. "Now."

The weight on her chest disappeared; shaking, Deryne stared up at the ceiling, numb mind struggling through incoherent thoughts. It hadn't been Malvyn who called them off….

Then Inar was there, at her side. Roughly, he pulled her up into a fierce embrace. Weak from the sudden relief she felt, Deryne leaned on him, wrapping her arms around him as he kissed her hair.

"How sweet," Malvyn commented sardonically. "The squire in shining armor to the rescue." Deryne stiffened; Inar withdrew slightly, eyes down.

"You control them," she said, jaw dropping. "You- you're the Shadowmaster."

"Accidentally, of course," Malvyn added. "But, being who you are, Inar- it was impossible for you to resist the call of your Queen, when you came in here, curious about the little crystal that closed off all the Vents to Chaos in these caverns." Inar pushed Deryne behind him. "She lured you in, and forced you to release her creatures."

"No more my Queen than Deryne's," he retorted sharply. "Or yours. Do you think a lying demon will reward you, in the end?" Malvyn hummed a little under his breath.

"Are you done yet?" he queried. "I'm waiting for this clever girl to figure out the other little secret."

"Shut up!" Inar's eyes blazed. "I hate you! Both of you!" Deryne shook in Inar's arms, trying to ignore Malvyn's hateful words and puzzling them out at the same time.

If Inar was the Shadowmaster…

If he could protect her from them….

"If you can control them…?" she hesitated. Malvyn laughed harshly.

"See?" he gloated. "She doesn't need my help to see the obvious." Then he turned on her. "Then why aren't you both free?" he finished, half-singing. "Why am I not a Shadow's meal? It's not his deep compassion. If he knew that that little bracelet-" He pointed at Deryne's wrist; Rikash's present was still there. Suddenly understanding, Deryne struggled to yank it off, eyes wide with horror; magic buzzed through her, stinging her fingers; it was spelled to stay on. "-could bind your magic if it could bind Salmalin's, why didn't he point that out? Or even better, not let you wear it? For a protective sponsor and lover, he seems oddly forgetful." Deryne wasn't watching Malvyn, or the bracelet; she was trying to catch Inar's eye. The more she tried, the further he looked away.

"Inar?" she whispered. "Inar, what is it? I don't want to hear him say it, whatever it is. Tell me-" When he finally did speak, it was not to her; he shot a look at their captor.

"Malvyn." She could not understand the emotion behind the single word; fury, pain, pleading fear- She touched his face; this time, he would not turn.

"What about the nightmares?" Malvyn's voice dropped to a sickly sweet murmur. "They don't make sense, do they? Death and struggles… but you don't remember when most of them happened, do you?" Deryne gasped in fury.

"His family died that night!" she cried out. Malvyn smirked.

"They aren't the only ones," he retorted before turning back on Inar. "Who else disappeared? Who was born that night?" The agony in Inar's face made Deryne renew a fight for her magic; she screamed at it to come, dived deeper into her mind than ever. "You don't just dream about them, and the torture," Malvyn continued, laughter in his voice. "There are other nightmares, ones that don't make sense- a sword, a cat-" Tears coming to her eyes, Deryne lunged out of Inar's weakening hold and towards Malvyn. Her chains stopped her short of him.

"Stop it!" she shrieked. He ignored her.

"You don't just dream about me, and the spells we did on you," the cruel mage added. Deryne's eyes widened; Malvyn had been there? He had been part of that? How could Inar not have known? She had known from the moment she had seen the mage that he had been the enemy a few years before. "From the moment you met me, you distrusted me because a tiny part of you remembered; you just chose to ignore it. Those times are hard to relive, aren't they?" He cocked his head to once side. "It was for your own good, you know; you would have gone down her path, otherwise." He jerked his head at Deryne. "Frejonak withdrew his powers from you, then- you were a lost cause, and he knew it. So he forced them on a girl from Queenscove instead."

"What?" Deryne gasped.

"You've been saved from the losing side," Malvyn continued. "Even though, fool you are, you insist on protecting her. Give it up, Ferensfell. You haven't been that one since Stenum went after you on Blayce's orders."

Blayce. Blayce told his man to go after Inar. Blayce wanted Inar because Frejonak had blessed him. Blayce forced the god to give her the gudruna. Deryne's mind spun.

"You forced Frejonak to give his powers to someone else?" she echoed. "Because-?" Malvyn sighed.

"Well, we had been hoping Frejonak would not take away the power- that it would be too late for the god to invest his powers in another, that the magic would stick to Inar, and the Gods' cause would be lost before they even started. There is a very small margin of time," he added. "In which a soul can be imprinted upon. Changed. Since Frejonak had bestowed his powers, if timed correctly, we could corrupt his Chosen before he knew what had happened." Deryne's heart was in her throat. Corrupted? "And then, with both corruption and power, his soul would settle, and no one would be able to touch it again. We cut it so close as it was," he said softly. "It took quite a few Gates to work the spell. And you remember all of it, don't you?"

"You tortured me," Inar rasped, fists clenched. He looked off to the side when Deryne turned back to him. "Ripped me apart-"

"And put you back together again," Malvyn said, surveying the squire with satisfaction. "Better than ever. You should thank me. Never was there a better Merging."

Deryne's knees buckled from underneath her. Merging…. She fell to the ground, numb.

"Gods," she whispered, her realization hurling her against a wall, immovable no matter how hard she tried to dissuade herself.

Malvyn had performed a necromancy on her friend, years before she had ever known him. And now she was remembering, remembering more that she never should have ignored.

"The ancients also believed in taking children and melding their souls with spirits of long dead heroes and scholars… in the hopes that the child would show the attributes and powers of the dead from the subtle possession spells." A merge, between dead and living. The Guild was an ancient order, ones from the Old Days…. Irnai had foretold this, after all-

He who sucked life from so many…. And that left only one question.

"Who did you put in him?" she asked, voice wavering; she hated herself for accepting the nightmare… and for letting him know she had. Malvyn's smile was enough to make her vision blur, even before he spoke the dreaded name aloud.

"Duke Roger of Conte."

"Deryne! C'mon!" Cadel yelled at the door. "I wanted to actually talk with my cousin, y'know? Since I never get to see you?" Her damned kestrel was at it again, screeching at the potential intruder lurking outside. He looked down either side of the passageway, then eyed the keyhole. His Highness had taught him how to do these locks more than a year ago….

Then he shook his head; why would he want to snoop or bother her cousin if she wanted to ignore him, which was odd. Why would she want to be alone?

Maybe if she wanted to think. If she was angry.

Who had she spoken to last night? Who could she have possibly gotten into a fight with? Who could rub Deryne the wrong way enough to provoke fury instead of her usual sardonic brush-offs? Cadel scowled, then sighed. In midst ride he changed direction, making his way to the stables.

Because if he thought about that, he knew there was really only one answer.

Inar of Ferensfell… and Roger of Conte.

Her friend… and the worst traitor in Tortall's history.

"The reason," she heard Malvyn say in a lethally light voice. "-he cannot save you now… is the same reason he couldn't save his knight master then." Inar swore at him.

"What sick thing have you done to me?" he snarled.

"You've known for awhile, haven't you?" Malvyn asked conversationally. "Ever since you let Sir Clement fall, I'd guess?"

"I didn't let him fall!" His voice broke. Malvyn raised an eyebrow.

"Ah, but you did. Roger willed it so, didn't he?"

"He did, not me!" Exhaustion crept into the protest. Deryne could barely breathe.

"But he is you," Malvyn answered softly. Chills raced through Deryne. She could not look up; she kept her hands on the ground, trying to stop the spinning. "Both of you are entangled in that body, soul and mind. It makes sense, doesn't it? The odd moments of déjà vu, or the sense that you've forgotten something… do you want to know who Deryne reminds you of? She doesn't look anything like your sister; she was a pretty, lithe little woman- dark eyes and golden hair- Stenum kept her for awhile." Inar swore even louder. "Actually, there are two reasons. One is your own; you recognize the taste of Frejonak's magic, even though you had it for so little time. But she also reminds Roger of the fiery little girl who wanted to be a knight when he was at the palace. Of course, he didn't know that she was a girl, then- but it was a good enough reminder. Every time you saw her, you hid that jolt of surprise, didn't you? You forgot, after awhile…. And then you sponsored her, fell in love-" He broke off in his narration to chuckle sinisterly. "Now you know why I laugh, Queenscove." Then he cleared his throat. "So, if you're still wondering how you got here-"

"No," Deryne managed, but it was so quiet, she could barely hear it.

"Your lover suddenly realized what was going on, when Roger came to conquer him with a vengeance, a few moments after midnight, when I sent Rikash's stored power within that Gate to him." Dimly, she remembered the kiss the night before, and the midnight bell tolling- had that only been a few hours earlier? "He tried to warn you and failed- he hit you over the head himself." Deryne hated Malvyn, all of him- his words, his smirk as he savored each shock that passed over her face- "Of course, Roger let Inar return, just long enough for him to mull over all of this…. Shadowmaster and possessed." Prickling sensations racing through her heart and blood, Deryne shook her head.

"I-" She could not believe this- she would not-

"All along- every step of the way- Roger has been in his thoughts, whispering little thoughts and planting little ideas- making Rikash's bracelet was one of those, a way to master your capture without a hint of suspicion from either you or Inar. You played into his hands so well!" He sounded like a benevolent instructor, praising his student. Deryne wanted to vomit, rid herself of all the poison the mage dripped in her ear. "Yes, Inar- you and Roger are too closely linked now; you would not exist, but for him! Your connection with Deryne- do you truly think you would have volunteered to sponsor her, to talk to her, without that little impulse from him? You, the sullen, brooding giant from the north?" Silence. "And yet she seems to be the only thing that's holding you here. Just give up, boy. Let the master take control. Roger will do more for you- for us all- than you ever could."

"Inar," Deryne whispered, licking her lips. She shuddered as she inhaled a breath of clammy, stale air, watching her fingers splayed across the cold, hard stone beneath her. She did not know what she could say- but Malvyn was wrong. She couldn't love him, if he was only Roger of Conte, the calculating, evil Duke.

Or could she? Everyone had loved the Duke. Until he had shown his true colors….

But she didn't hate Inar now. She felt broken, stunned-

If only she could free her magic….

Could Inar do it? Could he release her, if he couldn't save them himself?

"First Han," Malvyn said aloud. "And when the Hetnim girl comes on her next visit, she'll seek out Rikash Salmalin, wondering where her friend is. And then we'll pull them in. You, Deryne, will be the instrument we use to bring about their demises- how does that feel?"

With every last ounce of strength she had, she lifted her face up to the squire.

"Inar…." This time, he looked at her.

But the moment their eyes connected, Deryne's heart fell. He smirked at her, kneeling slowly as he wriggled his fingers. Orange magic, not blue, sparkled at their tips.

"Sorry, darling," he hissed, gaze hard. Malvyn flicked his fingers, and the chains fell from Roger of Conte. "I'm afraid I'm here to stay."

AN: Shorter chapter than usual... but I HAD to cut it off there... ;D

Comments, anyone? Besides the utter cliche that Inar is Roger...? ;D