Mistress of the Night by Don Bassingthwaite, Dave Gross Read Free Book Online Page A

were much higher. For good measure, Keph had even sprinkled a little of the dust into a couple of the vessels waiting on the workbench—to his delight, the dust vanished against glass just as easily as it had melded into the moss.
    Let's see who's sneering tomorrow, Roderio, he thought as he staggered toward the south wing and his bedchamber.
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    Keph woke to the sounds of hideous screams and horrified shrieks. It took a heartbeat before a name passed from the shrieks to his brain.
    Roderio.
    He thrashed free of the bed sheets, jammed himself into a pair of trousers, and wrenched open the door of his chamber to peer down the hallway. Servants were crowded around the arch of the north wing, kept back by the wards. The sharp odor of acid stung his nostrils. Keph's heart jumped from his chest into his throat.
    Snatching up a shirt, he pulled it over his head and charged, still barefoot, down the hall.
    "Move!" he shouted at the milling servants. "Move!"
    Maids and underbutlers leaped out of his way. He careened through the wards and into the north wing.
    Roderio lay stretched out on the floor of the hallway, surrounded by those few trusted servants able to bypass the wards on that wing. Dagnalla cradled his head and Malia was kneeling down at his side. Keph stared at his brother. His face was blistered and red. Fragments of broken glass were embedded in the skin of his face and neck as well. His eyes, clenched shut, were the worst. Blood oozed out from under the lids. His upper robes had been ripped away, exposing his chest and arms—they were burned too, though not so badly as his face. One servant clutched scalded hands, while another was thrusting the torn robes away with a stick. Saturated with a bilious yellow-green liquid, the ruined fabric smoldered and steamed.
    "All gods have mercy..." Keph gasped.
    Malia glanced up at the sound of his voice. "He's alive, Keph," she said quickly before turning away again. She had two vials clutched in one hand. "Tilt his head, mother," she ordered.
    Dagnalla arched her son's head. Malia pushed a finger between his lips and forced Roderio's mouth open. Pulling the stopper from one vial with her teeth, she poured a thick, pale blue liquid into his mouth, then pushed his mouth closed. Roderio swallowed convulsively and his body trembled, but some of the redness seemed to fade from his skin.
    "Use the other potion," Dagnalla urged under her breath. Her face was pale. "That may be enough until a priest gets here to heal him properly."
    Malia nodded and pulled the stopper from the second vial. The door to Roderio's laboratory stood open beyond them. Keph edged around his mother and sister toward it, his eyes fixed on the horrid sight of his brother's burned body.
    "Keph!" said his father.
    His voice broke the moment of terrible fascination. Keph looked up. Strasus Thingoleir stood in what was left of the laboratory. One gnarled hand held his staff in much the same way Keph would have held Quick in the face of possible danger. His other was spread wide in warning. His eyes were hard and stern. Keph swallowed.
    "Father-"
    "Just stay at the door. There's acid and broken glass everywhere." Keph blinked and Strasus pointed a finger at Keph's bare feet.
    "Oh," mumbled Keph in surprise. "Right."
    He surveyed the ruins of the laboratory from where he stood. Afternoon sunlight streamed through a window, lending an almost unnatural sharpness and clarity to the scene. The yellow-green liquid that had saturated Roderio's robes seemed to have splashed everywhere. Droplets smoked and steamed on the floor, on the walls, on workbenches—Roderio's lizard familiar crouched in its case, hissing violently at the acid that streaked the outside of the glass. A smear of the stuff marked where Roderio had been dragged across the floor and out of the room. The workbench that had been set up by the rack of jars and pots was flooded with it, the books of Elvish script so completely soaked that they were already