The Sorcerer's Bane Read Free Page B

month.”
    “Ah,” Gruum said, understanding at last. “That is why you grow so suddenly, from one day to the next.”
    She nodded, almost shyly. Gruum wondered if his understanding of her secrets changed things between them. He looked at her hair, and her pretty face. She was very pale, and her body had only just begun to swell into the shape of a woman, but he could tell she would be lovely soon. Perhaps very soon. The thought was alarming. As a child, she was frightening. As a woman…Gruum didn’t want to think about it.
    “Why did you come here tonight?” Gruum asked.
    “I wanted to tell you about someone I met.”
    Gruum frowned. Young princesses that moved mysteriously around the palace at night should not be meeting people, in his opinion. “Who? A boy?”
    She shook her head. “He is no boy.”
    “Who is he then?”
    “He told me he’s an old friend of yours. He’s been asking about you.”
    “What’s his name then?”
    “Karn,” she said.
    Karn? Gruum thought, and his mind froze over. He could scarcely breathe. He recalled the time Karn had returned to haunt him, on the deck of the Innsmouth a year ago. Karn had been frightening then—what would he be like today? And how had such a dreadful thing crept unseen into Corium?
    Gruum did not ask himself the final, obvious question, which concerned the circumstances under which Nadja had come to make an acquaintance of a shade. He knew the answer to that question already. The girl liked the dead. They were her playmates. She had grown up with them, living in the midst of their death for all her short, odd life.

-4-

    The palace slept. It was the deepest part of the night. The corridors were dimly lit and quiet. Gruum found himself following Nadja down dark, echoing passages. He had considered waiting until morning, but knew the girl would not wait. She would be off on her own, doing as she pleased. Days and untold events would likely pass before she returned with news of some fresh horror. The princess was unfettered. Her father was one of the most dangerous sorcerers in the known world and the King of Hyborea to boot. None dared to chastise her. Gruum felt the urge to act as the girl’s father should, but kept telling himself to leave well enough alone.
    They turned down a side stair. Gruum had never been in this corner of the palace before. The stair wound around a crumbling pillar to a level below, a servant’s level that was rank with contained steam and moldering walls.
    “Where are we?” Gruum asked.
    “Just below the laundry,” she answered in a hushed voice. “Whisper, and the servants will never know we’ve been here.”
    Gruum’s lantern sputtered, and he shook it back into life. The ceiling was so low overhead it brushed his hair, forcing him to stoop. Every surface was stone and tile. The flooring was silvered by puddles of warm water that lay here and there. The still pools reflected his lantern’s flame like small, round mirrors.
    “Are you sure this man said his name was Karn?” he asked.
    “He’s not exactly a man . But he knows a lot about you, as a friend should.”
    Gruum considered her words seriously, and realized he’d never spoken of Karn with others. Only Therian knew of his existence, and he doubted the King would bring the subject up to anyone else—certainly not his wandering daughter.
    “How far down are we going?” he asked. He splashed into a puddle, one of which was deeper than the rest. Trickles of water ran down the worn leather of his boots.
    Nadja paused. She looked back at him. Her eyes were big and each reflected his lantern’s flame. She put a finger to her lips, shushing him. She pointed downward to a plug in the floor. The plug was black and coated with waxy tar. It had an iron ring, and looked as ancient as the palace itself.
    “You want me to open that?” he hissed.
    She nodded, pressed her finger to her lips again, and pointed to the ring.
    Gruum sighed softly. He put one hand upon his knee