"You don"t say," Phoenix muttered.
"I think we can get out the window, if anyone"s got some rope," Jade called.
Another knock sounded on the door; followed by a guard"s annoyed question.
Everyone looked around, but there was no convenient coil of rope.
Phoenix glanced at Marcus, who gave him an ironic smile and half-shake of his head. "Not this time. I haven"t had the opportunity to replace the one you used on the troll."
Jade s.n.a.t.c.hed at the black cloth she had used to cover the statue of Set.
"We"ll have to use this," she knotted a corner of it around the thick leg of a table standing beside the window. "Barricade the priest"s door and let"s go. Quickly!"
Phoenix shoved a chest over to the door and wedged it beneath the handle. The sound of regular pounding and shouting now began from the main door. The guards were trying to break it down. From behind the other door came a scrabbling and grunting as the priest tried to push it inward.
He pushed back, hoping to buy time for the others. Heron had already vanished out the window. Jade supervised as first Brynn, then Marcus clambered nimbly down the cloth to land beside Heron on the rooftop below.
The chest beneath him jerked again as someone pushed hard against the door. Jade"s head disappeared below the window ledge. One of the panels of wood in the main door exploded in a spray of splinters and a hand reached through, feeling for the lock. Definitely time to go.
As he jumped for the window, several things seemed to happen all at once. The entry door flew open and half a dozen black-robed guards burst in. The heavy chest was shoved aside as the other door opened and two priests strode in. One wore a golden mask. Phoenix swore and backed toward the window, his sword ready. Would Blodbal be enough to protect him against this priest"s magic and the weapons of six trained guards? Even as he wondered, a dozen more guards pressed into the room, weapons drawn.
With a cry of anger, three leapt at him, curved swords flashing in the torchlight. Pinned against the window and table, he parried their blows with Blodbal and s.n.a.t.c.hed his dagger from its sheath. Luckily, the s.p.a.ce was so cramped that only a few could attack at once. Wishing for his shield, he turned aside a blade aimed at his stomach and pushed back against the three swords locked against his, over his head.
Fear fled before a rush of adrenalin. Phoenix growled low in his throat and grinned in savage delight. Once again he felt a surge of strength and power as Blodbal began to take over his actions, turning his body into a perfect fighting machine.
Somehow, it became easy to foresee each blow before it fell; avoid each hazard in the cluttered room; twist aside from each slicing strike of those lethal blades. Metal clashed with metal; a guard grunted in pain as Phoenix"s dagger found his ribs. Over and over Blodbal flicked out, parried and darted in to taste the blood of the enemy. Guards began to trip over bodies of their comrades as well as the many books and objects strewn about the room. Phoenix kicked a book into one man"s face, causing him to trip backward over a small, steaming cauldron. The black, viscous liquid in the cauldron hissed and ate its way through a stack of books, sending off toxic fumes and clouding the air with choking grey smoke. Taking advantage of the confusion, he overturned a heavy table, pinning two men against a wall. There were still too many.
Leaping onto a low stool, Phoenix tucked his dagger into his belt and s.n.a.t.c.hed up a slim black-handled blade that lay on a shelf. Gauging the distance, he flipped it over and threw it at the High Priest, who stood impa.s.sively just inside the second door. The gold-masked man didn"t move or flinch. He didn"t even raise a hand as the second priest deliberately stepped in front of the oncoming blade. It sank up to the hilt in his chest instead of his masters" and he slumped to the ground without a sound.
Phoenix didn"t waste time on his failed attempt. He jumped down from the stool, pulling his dagger out again just in time to deflect a blow aimed at his neck. A second sliced at his stomach. He twisted aside, feeling the tip catch and tear the loose cloth of his shirt. That was too close. More guards were arriving. It was only a matter of time before sheer numbers overwhelmed him, even with Blodbal"s help. He had to get out.
Panting, he found himself back against the window. There was a pause as the guards stopped fighting and looked toward their High Priest for guidance. Now was the time to escape.
The black-robed guards withdrew a little, leaving a s.p.a.ce littered with bodies and slippery with blood. Phoenix felt a rush of triumph at the sight. He had done that. With Blodbal he was practically invincible. The irresistible pulse of its battle-song filled his mind, whispering, encouraging, and willing him to fight on; kill more; spill more blood. It was hard to think of anything else. The desire to fight, kill and destroy the enemy was almost overwhelming.
Then the High Priest raised his hands and pointed at the dead warriors. A shaft of purple-blue speared from his fingertips, earthing in each inanimate form. His dark eyes glittered with satisfaction behind that smooth, golden mask. The image of those limp bodies twitching as the priest"s dark magic hit them was enough to shock the power of Blodbal out of Phoenix"s mind. All desire to cross swords with zombie-guards vanished. Jerkily, the dead guards stood up, their faces now blank, eyes milky-white. As one, they stepped toward Phoenix, swords raised again. Behind them, the living guards grinned.
CHAPTER TWELVE.
Sheathing his dagger, Phoenix picked up a lit candle and threw it into the largest pile of papers he could see. The flames caught and raced across the surface like it was soaked in petrol. Each flicker danced with purple-blue after-images. The black smoke it gave off smelled disgusting and stung the eyes. That got a reaction. With an angry shriek, the Priest of Set s.n.a.t.c.hed at his precious artefacts and papers.
Phoenix smiled as the gold-masked sorcerer began ordering his henchmen to put out the rapidly-spreading fire. That should keep them busy enough not to chase him. He sheathed his sword, silencing its song. Clambering up onto the windowsill, he balanced on it and tried to watch the entire room at once. With a grin, he threw the coughing guards a mocking salute. Before the astonished rabble could react, he reached down, grabbed the black cloth and leapt out of the window.
He grunted in pain as his shoulder and ribs slammed into the temple wall. That stunt looked great in the movies and games, but it hurt. Friction from the cloth burned his fingers and the wall was hard. Tightening his grip, he shook his head to clear the stars and shoved away from the stone.
From overhead came a clattering and angry muttering as the guards pushed to see where he had gone. Smoke billowed out the window. He let the cloth slide through his hands, glancing down to judge the distance to the ground. He didn"t want to fall on anyone"s head. It was a bit worrying to realise that it wasn"t going to be an issue: everyone was gone. All his friends had, apparently, vanished and left him to his fate. Lacking Blodbal"s song of invincibility to ward it off, fear and anger surged almost painfully through his guts.
The cloth jerked in his hands and, with an unpleasant tearing sound, lost all tension. The guards had cut his safety line. As he fell, Phoenix heard a mocking jeer from the window above.
Still clutching the remnant of fabric, he tried to think about how best to hit the roof below. He tucked his chin in, tightened his stomach muscles and spread out his arms and legs, hoping to absorb the worst of the fall and keep his skull intact. He couldn"t afford to lose any more lives. At the last second, he remembered to force all the air out of his lungs.
The fall seemed to take a lot longer than he expected and the stone wall didn"t go past nearly as fast as it should have. In fact, he appeared to be slowing down. It felt as though he were sliding down through a deep, cool pool of water. Cautiously, Phoenix sucked in a breath of night air and twisted his head to see why. The first pink hints of dawn showed him to be in a very strange situation indeed.
He was floating bare inches above the sloping, stone-tiled roof. What the heck had happened to gravity? Was the High Priest somehow trying to pull him back up to the tower? Glancing up, he could see only thick clouds of rancid smoke coming out of the window. OK, not the High Priest, then. So how did he get down?
A loud hiss drifted up from the shadows in the street below.
"C"mon, Phoenix!" It was Brynn"s voice. "Jade can"t hold you up forever. Get on your feet and get down here."
Bewildered, Phoenix wriggled and turned until he could get his feet under himself. There was a sudden feeling of weight as gravity re-a.s.serted its rights and his knees collapsed under the strain. Falling awkwardly, he slithered down the roof toward Brynn"s voice. Stone tiles slipped out from under his hands and feet, crashing onto the street below. Before he could stop himself, momentum carried him right off the gutterless edge of the rooftop and he was, once more, in midair.
Again there came a sensation of floating to earth. This time it only lasted a brief moment. He just managed to be ready for it when ma.s.s returned and landed on his feet with only a slight jar to his shins. Grinning, he peered around, looking for Brynn and the others.
Half-hidden in the gloom of the alley were their horses and gear. Marcus, Brynn, Jade and Heron were already mounted, although Jade was slumped in the saddle with her eyes closed. Heron looked more than a little ridiculous mounted on the small pack-pony. He"d discarded the black priest"s robe and his filthy tunic and toga were rucked up to his thighs, skinny old legs sticking out at a ridiculous angle. Marcus held his horse"s reins.
Hearing cries of alarm from the burning temple, Phoenix swung into the saddle of his stallion, gasping at a sudden st.i.tch that lanced pain through his stomach. He gritted his teeth and nodded to Marcus. The Roman kicked his mount and they all followed, winding through the back streets toward the river, away from immediate danger. Pink fire lit the sky as the sun came up and turned the Nile to liquid gold.
Phoenix caught up with Jade and reached across to touch her arm. "Thanks. What was that spell?"
She sent him a weary smile. "Another new one from Asulfr"s book. It"s called letta, which means "stop". I wasn"t sure it would do what I wanted it to, but it was the only one I could think of at the time. I"m glad it worked."
"Me too," he agreed wholeheartedly. "I thought you"d abandoned me for a moment there."
"You must know by now that I wouldn"t," she sighed.
Phoenix shrugged.
With a resigned look, Jade shook her head. "I can"t promise I"ll always be perfect, Phoenix. Of course I"ll make mistakes and other bad things will happen to you, but," she reached over and gripped his arm, her green eyes intent, "I"m getting worried about you. Ever since you got Blodbal, you haven"t been yourself."
"What are you talking about?" he jerked his arm free, irritated. "I"m fine. Blodbal"s the best thing that"s happened to me here. I"m almost invincible with it."
"But it"s affecting your thinking," Jade insisted. "You"re much more...I don"t know..impulsive, untrusting...angry, I guess. You have to keep it under control. Remember what Thor said about it taking over if you let it?" She frowned at him. "Don"t let the sword make your reactions stronger than they should be. You can control how much people affect your emotions. You control how much you react."
Phoenix stared at her for a moment, shocked and a bit annoyed that she had seen so much of how he felt. What right did she have to give him advice on emotions anyway? She acted like an emotional yo-yo half the time. Control how much you react? What a laugh.
Shaking his head impatiently, he pressed a hand to his stomach, still feeling the remnants of pain from the fear and that st.i.tch. He sucked a quick breath through his teeth and tried to ignore the ache. Under his fingers he felt a strange slickness and his own skin, instead of cloth. Puzzled, he looked down at his hand. Bright red blood covered his palm. It pumped sluggishly from a long slice across his belly. Phoenix stared at it, feeling lightheaded. He hadn"t even felt the knife cut him. How strange.
The world spun and seemed to turn upside down before going black.
Jade caught him by the arm as he collapsed; tugging so he fell forward across his horses" neck.
"Marcus!" she called. "Phoenix is injured. We need to get him somewhere safe so I can work on him."
The Roman reined his horse in and handed Heron"s off to Brynn. The old man slewed around in his saddle, mouth agape. Edging alongside Phoenix"s unconscious body, Marcus looked over his shoulder at the Temple of Set. It was well alight now, black smoke billowing freely from every window.
"I don"t think we can stay in this area. The temple will send a.s.sa.s.sins after us as soon as that fire is under control."
Jade bit her lip. "But Phoenix can"t afford to lose another life. I"ve got to try and heal him."
"Are you strong enough?" Marcus eyed her, undoubtedly noting the dark circles beneath her eyes.
She nodded. "I"ll have to be. Where can we go? He can"t lose much more blood and, after I"ve done what I can he won"t be able to ride for at least a day."
"What about my barge?" Heron"s gentle voice interrupted their low conversation. They looked at him blankly. "I"m sorry to interfere, but I overheard what you said. If we can"t stay here and we can"t ride, why don"t we take my barge and sail down the Nile to Alexandria? I live there and you"ll be safe in my house until he recovers."
Jade exchanged glances with Marcus. "I thought you"d been in prison," she asked. "How do you know it will still be where you left it?"
Heron shook his head and smiled. "The Roman Proconsul of Alexandria sent me as a special envoy to Memphis. It"s his barge, really. Believe me, the men won"t go anywhere without express orders from me or the Proconsul."
"Why should you help us?" she couldn"t help feeling suspicious of this stranger.
"Well...." the old man stroked his matted white beard and shrugged. "You and your friends did get me out of that place."
"Is that all?" Jade pressed. There was something not right about Heron"s reason, but she couldn"t say exactly what.
The old man looked guiltily at Phoenix"s inert body. "I did also overhear you calling that young man "Phoenix". He gave me his name as "Drake". Is his name truly "Phoenix"?"
Behind Heron, Brynn waved his hands, trying to give Jade some message she couldn"t quite understand. She frowned at him. Heron glanced at the boy and smiled in rea.s.surance.
"No, no. Don"t worry youngster, I don"t intend your friend any harm. Quite the contrary, actually. If he truly is the Phoenix of legend, then his destiny is one of greatness and glory. He is the one who will save Egypt from death and disaster."
"Wuh?" Jade asked feeling thickheaded. "Phoenix is destined to save Egypt from death and disaster? How?"
Brynn nudged his horse forward. "It"s a long story," he sent her a significant look. "Right now we need to get moving."
"Agreed," Marcus nodded. "Shall we take Heron"s barge?" Both companions looked at Jade.
She tilted her head, eyeing Heron. He seemed harmless enough. Looking at Phoenix"s crumpled form she saw a trickle of blood drip down his leg. His stallion began to edge nervously sideways, tossing its head. Sighing, she nodded.
"We don"t seem to have much choice. Lead on but," she sent the old man a fierce look, "don"t even think of betraying us, old man, or I"ll kill you myself!"
"My dear girl," he replied, smiling broadly, "I am absolutely no danger to you. I find you all completely fascinating. Do let us hurry, though."
Jade hovered over Phoenix, hoping he would open his eyes. Even now, when they were almost to the safety of Alexandria, she couldn"t relax. It had been a difficult river trip, though it had only lasted half a day. The Proconsul"s barge was a low-sided, many-oared affair with one large, square sail in the centre. Though impressively decorated and gilded, it afforded little shelter for people or horses. Overcrowded and hot, the horses were nervous and difficult to keep still. The oarsmen grumbled about being put to work after two weeks of relaxation in the inns of Memphis. Heron did some fast talking to convince the captain to take on four pa.s.sengers and five laden horses. In the end, Brynn grudgingly slipped the man something from his treasure h.o.a.rd.
They carried Phoenix under the cover of the Proconsul"s pavilion at the rear end of the boat. There, hidden from view of the crew by curtains, Jade attempted to heal his wound. She hadn"t slept in over twenty-four hours and her powers were weaker out on the water, away from forests. Even the new inner strength she"d found and the power of the yin-yang amulet was not enough to cure him. No matter what she did, the wound continued to seep blood. Worse, it was now crusted with an ugly darkening of the flesh that seemed to be spreading.
Marcus came in to find her frustrated and exhausted. He knelt beside the ornate day-bed where Phoenix lay moaning and tossing.
"Can"t you help him?"
Jade shook her head, dashing angry tears away. "I don"t understand it. I"ve done everything. I"ve tried every herb in my store and every spell I know plus a few new ones. Nothing will seal the cut and he"s bleeding internally."
Marcus stripped off a glove, placed the back of his hand on Phoenix"s sweat-soaked brow and frowned. "He has a fever. Perhaps the priests of Set poison their knives."
She bit her lip and nodded. "That"s what I think, too. If so, it"s a poison I don"t know." She rubbed a hand over her face, smearing charcoal, tears and sweat across her fair, flushed skin.
"Maybe there"s a doctor in Alexandria who will know an antidote," he suggested, but his dark eyes were heavy with worry, too.
Jade dropped her forehead onto her arms as she knelt beside the bed. "I don"t think we have time for that, Marcus. We can"t afford to lose weeks while he recovers from something like this."
She raised her head and stared bleakly at the Roman. "I think I"ll have to kill him."
CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
Marcus gazed back at her then slowly nodded his agreement. His lips formed a small, wry smile. "I never thought I would use a phrase like "kill him to save his life"."
Jade gave a weak laugh, grateful for his support.
He drew out his dagger and hefted it in the palm of his hand with a regretful glance at Phoenix. "Even though I know, logically, that he will have at least three more lives to live, I"m not sure I can take one from him."
"I know," she breathed. "I don"t think I can do it, either. He"s my friend. How can I kill him? Plus, if I do, how can he get through two more lev...quests after this with only three lives."
He gave her a serious look. "When we began this venture together, you put a Binding Spell on us all."
Jade blinked at him, tiredness making her thinking sluggish. "So?"
"Our fates are bound together. Even without that spell, I would give my life to protect him or you, just as you have both given yours to protect me."
"It"s not quite the same for us, though," she protested, feeling stupid because she didn"t understand what point he was trying to make.
He put his iron gloves down and grabbed her arms. Giving her a little shake, he frowned at her. "When the time comes, you must promise me you will find a way to take my life force and give it to Phoenix or yourself if it is what you need to kill Zhudai at the end of these quests. Do you promise?"
She gaped at him then shook herself free of his grip.
"I can"t promise you that. I can"t! I wouldn"t even know how, anyway." she shook her head adamantly. She was exhausted and strung out after the events of the night. How could he ask her something like that right now? It was hard enough to decide to kill Phoenix and he had a couple to spare. Marcus had only one.
Pursing his lips, Marcus shrugged. "I have seen it done, by Zhudai himself in Londinium in fact, but maybe now is not the best time for this. At least think about what I"ve said." He waited until she nodded reluctantly then returned his brooding gaze to Phoenix"s restless form.