Dallas stepped back. “Shut the door! Now!” He pushed the adobe door without hinges. It did not move.
Mage Stantworth finished studying the cell and moved back. “Try touching the depression again.”
Dallas did. The door swung shut.
“I believe, no, I know, that doorway takes us to Idion’s property. I recognised one of the slaves.” Dallas wondered what he was getting into, and if the trackers were strong enough to remove the spell. He doubted they could. He was about to suggest leaving the problem to Mage Stantworth and his dragon, but Misty spoke.
“What now?” Misty frowned at Dallas. “We could walk through the cell and kill Mage Crompton and release the slaves.”
Dallas doubted rushing through and attacking Mage Crompton was wise. “No, we need a plan before walking into that cell. And fast! Before those two slaves are killed.” Dallas paced across the room to the corridor door and stopped. “Mage Stantworth, I think you should bring more mages down from the city. Let them deal with Crompton.”
Misty ignored Dallas’ suggestion.
“And his friends.” Misty smiled gently. “He is not strong enough to have built this doorway and wall by himself, but he does carry many talisman, and I have seen him use his magic to kill his own men when they disobey his orders.” She moved closer to Dallas. “I saw the slaves. And I agree with you. They need to be set free.” She touched his arm. “Swift and Sweetie will help us.”
Dallas smiled at Misty’s trust in him and the trackers.
“We need Nebar to organise men to walk through the doorway.” Mage Stantworth waved Dallas aside and hurried down the corridor, looking for Nebar.
“And you could fly Bren down to Idion’s place so you can find the group that went to look for Veda. They can work their way through the property towards the main house, killing the ones with weapons and releasing any slaves they find.” Dallas could not think of anything else that would help in reclaiming the property from Mage Crompton and Mage Vince, if Mage Vince was already there.
When Stantworth disappeared around the corner into the next corridor, Misty whispered to Dallas. “I think Veda built the spell, because after she was removed from her bed, the wall crumbled. Best not to tell Nebar.”
Dallas nodded. “When she heals, she can live on my property.”
“Your mother can train her to create stronger spells.”
* * *
Dallas sat on Veda’s bed and waited. The afternoon dragged on while they waited for Nebar to arrive.
Misty paced across to the adobe door and back to the end of the bed. “What is keeping Nebar?”
Sweetie and Swift stood close to the side wall opposite the bed, out of Misty’s path between the bed and the closed magic door.
Footsteps echoed down the corridor before Nebar and ten men arrived. Nebar walked into the room, but the men waited in the corridor.
Nebar stepped to his right to avoid moving close to Swift and Sweetie, who took most of the room on the left side. He was dressed for warm weather with a sleeveless shirt and light weight trousers, but he wore ankle length boots. He had one small pouch, containing a black handled knife, strapped to his left forearm. Two long knives hung from his belt, the handles forward and the blades brushing the sides of his legs as he walked.
Misty studied his weapons, while Dallas watched Misty. She must have decided he was not a threat because she turned her attention to the men waiting in the corridor.
They watched Nebar walk to the magic adobe door, ignoring Misty watching them.
Nebar studied the door then kicked the dust piles on the floor as he walked around the side of door and looked at the rear wall of Veda’s room. A frown remained on his face while he studied the back of the door.
He walked across to Dallas. “Who created this magic?”
Misty smiled at Dallas.
Dallas looked directly at Nebar. “You will have to ask Mage Stantworth about that after we search through Idion’s property for Mage Crompton.”
Nebar waved his hand, indicating the men waiting to enter the room. “My men will not be daunted by magic and we will walk through.” He took two paces across the floor and stopped. “Open the door.”
Two of his men walked forward, arrows notched and bows steady. They took positions either side of the wooden posts holding up the adobe door.
Both Swift and Sweetie turned their heads towards the adobe door, ears forward, waiting.
Dallas caught the faint odour of garlic before he retrieved his staff from where he placed it against the headboard of Veda’s bed.
He fought to keep a smile from spreading across his face. There was a myth that the smell of garlic, or onions, distracted mages long enough for a weapon to reach them before they built a spell.
Of course, it was not true.
Misty waited at the end of the bed, behind and slightly to the right of Nebar. She smelled the odour and frowned, but remained silent.
Dallas moved closer to Nebar. “I suggest we let Swift and Sweetie through the door first. They will remove any spells before your men enter.”
“Nonsense! We are not scared of spells.” Nebar glanced at Misty. “I suggest you leave your woman here.”
Misty touched her long knife handle. “If Sweetie goes through, then I go through.”
“Order two of your men to remain this side of the door, ready to kill any armed man who tries to flee.” Dallas touched the depression on the door and stepped back.
Everyone heard the click as the door unlocked and swung inwards.
Nebar got his first glimpse of the cell on the other side of the magic doorway seconds before his men. He took a step back, realised what he did, and stepped forward again, before the swinging door stopped.
The waiting male on the left of the door backed away before the edge of the door struck him. When he realised the door would not move any further he walked forward, holding his fully drawn bow steady, aimed through the doorway.
Dallas heard quick breathing from one of Nebar’s eight men waiting in the corridor, followed by shuffling feet, but none spoke.
The two with bows tried to step through the opening at the same time. They bumped shoulders, changing the direction of the arrows waiting to be released.
The one on the right tried to stop the edge of his mouth breaking into a smile. He dipped his head and moved aside so the archer on the left could walked through first.
Once through the archer moved to the left inside the cell. The second archer followed and moved to the right.
Nebar entered the cell next, and Dallas followed.
Both slaves still lay stretched across the tables outside the cell.
Dallas hoped they were still alive.
The smell of blood and fear filled the room, as strong as the first time Dallas breathed the humid air after the adobe door swung open. The strong smell of blood overpowered the mixed odours of stale sweat, body waste and salty air.
Nebar covered his nose with his left hand while he tried to push the cell door open. The metal rattled, but the door remained locked.
He shook the door again, but the latch held.
Nebar ignored the others waiting to follow him out of the cell into the room beyond. He stepped back, so he had room to kick the lock with the heel of his boot. He raised his right knee and straightened his leg. The heel of his boot landed in the centre of the metal lock.
Thump!
Dallas wanted to touch the metal lock with his staff to release a small amount of ichur to completely rust the metal, but he had no intention of showing Nebar and his men that he was one of those dreaded mages from Convane. He did not need to give Nebar an excuse to cut off his hands or dig out his eyeballs, or alert the council to his ability to use ichur.
Nebar tried for a second time to break the lock. All he succeeded in doing was making a loud noise as the metal bars shook and the lock tongue rattled against the upright bar it butted against. If anyone was outside the room they would hear the commotion and alert Idion’s guards, if any of them were still alive.
Or Mage Crompton’s men!
Dallas stuck his head through the doorway into Veda’s room. “Swift!”
Swift walked to the doorway as Nebar kicked the bars again.
“Could you kick the lock to open the cell door?” Dallas turned to watch Nebar raise his right leg and extend it for the fourth time. The heel of his boot slammed against the lock and the whole metal frame rattled. “Nebar, stop!”
Nebar wiped sweat and red rust from his brow while more red rust, shaken loose from the bars, floated through the air and settled on the hard packed earth floor.
Dallas had to admit Nebar had put all the force of his powerful leg muscles behind each kick, even if he was unsuccessful in breaking the lock mechanism so the bars would swing open. “Let Swift try.”
Swift walked through the magic doorway and across the cell. She sniffed the area around the metal lock.
Dallas hoped he was the only person who saw the smallest amount of silver ichur slither out of the metal lock and drift down to the floor. It disappeared into the dirt.
Swift turned and used her rear legs to kick the bars.
The cell door squeaked as it swung open.
“Good girl.”
Swift walked through the open cell door first.
She blocked Dallas’ view across the room for a second, so he missed the far door opening.
By the time Dallas realised a male stood in the doorway staring at Swift and Dallas, and the Hedgehill men behind him, it was too late to warn the others.
Nebar’s archer reacted first. He released an arrow at the male who stood in the doorway, but it missed.
The second archer released his first arrow through the bars but it clipped the metal bar and changed trajectory. It dropped to the floor next to the closest torture table.
Dallas sidestepped around Swift and raised his staff, but the staff was too short to reach the male. He raced around the table to close the distance to the male.
Before he reached the male, Misty shouted. “Drop!”
Dallas dropped. He turned to stare at Misty, and caught the flick of her hand as she released a star.
The shocked male spun on his heel and shouted. “Invasion!”
Less than a eye blink later, one of the star blades sank into the back of the male’s neck. The male fell to the ground. He did not twitch, but his eyes remained open.
Misty walked between the two torture tables, ignoring the strapped down slaves. She stared at the downed male then nudged his arm with the toe of her boot.
Only his eyes moved. He glared at Misty.
She bent down and rolled him onto his side. She pulled her star out of his spine and wiped the blood off on his shirt. “Lucky throw!”
The male breathed out and his eyes closed. He did not breathe back in.
“I cut his spine. Not bad for a throw from the other side of the bars.” She slipped the six bladed star back behind her belt.
Dallas noticed she sucked in her stomach so as to not cut her own flesh.
Sweetie walked over and stood next to Misty, while Nebar ordered his men to free the two slaves.
Dallas dragged the body across the room to the side wall.
Misty shut the door. “Now what? Wait for them to get organised or keep going?”
Chains rattled as they fell to the floor when the first slave was freed from the table.
“Archers, move to the left.” Nebar helped lift one of the slaves off the table, then passed him to the closest waiting male. “Take him back through the door. Then return.”
Misty opened the door enough so she could check outside. She pulled back and closed the door. “I hear two sets of running feet.”
“Move left.” Dallas moved right, then realised the door would block his view when it swung open, so stepped away from the wall. “One each.”
“I don’t mind, as long as the archers don’t pierce me with their arrows.” Misty looked at Sweetie. “Move back, so I have room to work.” She held her long knife, point up and forward.
Sweetie backed away, but watched Misty.
Swift had already moved behind Dallas.
Nebar stood at the end of the second table, where the female slave lay, too wounded to move. He glanced at his men, two with arrows notched, three with blades drawn, and the rest scattered around the room.
The door opened slowly.
Dallas stepped forward and grabbed the arm of the male who opened the door. He pulled the male further into the room, then tapped the top of his staff against the male’s forehead. He released the smallest amount of ichur. The male stared at Dallas for three heartbeats then thudded to the floor.
Misty stabbed the second male before he realised she was waiting. The sharp tip of her long knife entered his stomach and cut upwards.
Dallas almost gagged at the sucking sound when Misty pulled her knife out of the male’s stomach. The male slowly sank to the floor, holding his gaping wound, trying to keep blood and intestines inside.
Misty flicked her knife forward and stabbed him through the heart. He died without a sound, but blood kept leaking from his stomach.
Dallas swallowed but could not turn away. He was not sure if the look on Misty’s face meant she was pleased with her kill, or satisfied he died quickly.
“Move all the bodies to the last cell.” Nebar gently lifted the naked female off the table and walked back through the cell and through the door to Hedgehill.
“As soon as Nebar returns we will work our way through the property.” Dallas patted Swift on the neck. “Swift and Sweetie, get ready to remove every spell you find.”