Adnet continued. “All our treasure was only a disguise for what we truly guarded, and it may have been our undoing in the end. Whether Philip knew of the un-ark or not, we fell because men enough knew of our gold, and cared for nothing else. When that became clear, the Grand Master taught me a few of the most basic spells and then sent me away with the others, men low-ranked enough that we could be overlooked. I suspect I know the fate of those who stayed behind.”
“The order’s no more. I’m sorry,” said Toinette. “And the men—”
“Yes. But they would likely be dead by now in any case. I havesomesense of time, erratic though it often is, and I mark well this body’s state.”
“Yes,” said Toinette.Deadwas enough. There was no need to tell the ghost about the torture, or the burnings. He’d likely thought of that already: punishments for treason were no secret.
“And you came here,” said Erik, “and then the…un-ark…was harder to contain.”
“Likely It was slipping past Its bindings once we took It from the Temple. I don’t know that the wind that sent us here was chance, and what will Itdoeshave is likely set against returning to the sea, where It would have even less prey. It prefers thinking beings, you see. It doesn’t eatflesh.”
“Souls?”
“I hope not. Suffering, certainly, and perhaps sanity. Perhaps life as God made it. It undoubtedly blights all such things and twists them to evil. That became clear soon after we landed, and all our protections didn’t suffice. In the end”—Adnet gestured to the bodies—“I’d hoped It would starve after us. It’s learned to hunt instead. Or to trap. I’m sorry.”
He spoke as a man announcing a death.
“You’re saying there’s no way off the island,” Toinette said dully. She’d known that was possible, but having traveled so far, through so much of hell, only to find out now—everything within her wanted to protest. She held it back with what felt like the last of her strength.
“It will not let you leave without It,” said Adnet.
That was an excuse, if Erik needed one. Toinette could even halfway agree with the thought. If they had to take the un-ark to save themselves and her men, then it would be hard to blame him for suggesting it. Back on land, skilled magicians—and Artair was one, undeniably—might be able to contain It, or even to use It without harming their own forces overmuch. The English would be most unlikely to win any wars then, or even start any once they’d seen the un-ark’s power.
She felt Erik’s gaze upon her, and said nothing. There was nothingtosay; they all knew the same facts. She knew his oath and his loyalty. Toinette looked at the remains of her food and waited.
His breath echoed in the cave. “Well, then,” he said, “how might we destroy It? And what would happen if we did?”
* * *
Erik had tried to put his feelings about Toinette, and what he knew she thought, to one side when he decided, and thought he’d largely succeeded. The facts of the matter were weighty enough. Even Artair, when he heard them, might well agree that the risk was too great. If not, which was quite possible, Erik would bear the displeasure of his clan’s patriarch and survive. The man was no tyrant. His final decision was rational, or so he hoped.
Still he glanced at her after he spoke, and rejoiced in her smile.
Adnet’s next words banished pleasure quite effectively. “We tried,” he said. “Over the years. Destroying the box will likely banish the spirit within, though none know if It can die as mortal flesh does, but no weapon could leave a mark on it. My predecessors dropped a block of stone on it once. The block shattered. The chest remained.”
“Fire?” Erik asked.
“The records say that came closer than most other methods. The wood smoldered, but the flame died, and the burnt places healed in a matter of months.” Adnet shrugged, armor and bone moving together with a discordant screech. “We tried holy water and the relics of saints, and if they wounded either the box or the being inside, none could see it. We tried exorcism. Seven men went mad.”
“Magic?” Toinette was chewing on her lower lip, looking less sunk in despair than Erik was beginning to feel.
“Such spells as we could discover. Most of ours went to protection and to defense—it’s why I can keep a small part of this place less uncanny than the rest. And it kept that thing from feeding on us, in the end.” He touched the dagger’s hilt. “We tried, in truth. But it did no good. Human flesh and blood can barely stand against the un-ark enough to keep It imprisoned. To make an end of It…” He shook his head.
“Well,” said Toinette, lifting hers, “neither of ours is entirely human.”
Thirty-Eight
“The Watchers?” breathed Adnet. If he’d had eyes, they’d likely have been wide as cart wheels.
“That’s one of the stories I’ve heard,” Erik said. The book of Enoch talked about angels mating with mortal women and producing children: giants in the Bible, but who knew what might have gotten lost with the ages. “Among others.”
“We’re dragons,” Toinette said quickly.Here are the facts. Let’s have them out.“When we wish to be. We heal quickly. We live long. We see in the dark, and I’m surprised you didn’t wonder about that.”
“I hadn’t realized it was so dark,” Adnet said. “Although it must be. The mind does not rot as the body does, but certain perceptions—and the expectations with them—do fall away.”
That raised questions, the same that Erik had been contemplating ever since the ghost had made his appearance, but they would have to wait. Practical matters were at hand, which Toinette confirmed by speaking again. “We also can breathe fire,” she said. “It’s stronger than most flame and killed a few of the creatures this thing touched.”
“And,” Erik put in, thinking of the light in the forest, “we’ve a bit more resistance to Its power than most men, from what I can tell. Our kin are old too, and well-versed in magic. I don’t know as many spells as I might, but I could likely manage an attack on that front, or enchant a weapon to strike at this power.”
