Wraith(26)

Thomas Iscariot? I supposed Judas Iscariot was too obvious. But I’d hardly betrayed Gabriel de Florinville; he wasn’t mine to betray, even though I might be here to stab him in the heart.

I dismissed his poor excuse for black humour and continued surveying. In the far corner there was a small table with some papers on top of it. I spotted an elaborate document that bore the Prime Minister’s seal and frowned. I already knew the Elf was here as an Envoy but was there more to it than morbid curiosity about how Stirling was faring? Was the government finally taking an interest in our predicament? If so, the Prime Minister was a bit late. Even the most optimistic Stirling citizens had given up believing he was ever going to ride gallantly to our rescue.

‘As long as the goblins don’t notice the absence of your shadow, you should reach me without trouble.’ De Florinville’s gaze flicked up and down. ‘Unless you’d prefer to tell them the truth and deal with the Filits’ own brand of justice rather than mine. I’m not saying I won’t kill you – I’ve not yet made up my mind – but I am prepared to be swayed.’ His eyes gleamed. ‘Under the right circumstances.’

Yeah, yeah. I raised myself slightly onto my toes, hoping to get a better look at the papers. Unfortunately I was far too obvious about it and de Florinville half turned, spotting the table and its contents.

‘So,’ he said with a cold murmur, ‘you still think there’s a way out of all this. You’re still trying to sneak around and see what you can find, no doubt so that you can pass it on to your master.’ He moved so his body blocked my view. ‘You do realise how much I can make you hurt, don’t you? Perhaps you require a little demonstration.’

Without warning, he lashed out, his fist catching me in my stomach. I doubled over in pain. With one arm clutching my middle, I thrust upwards with my other arm, hoping to punch him back but the salt and candle circle was too strong, and the original binding was still in place. My hand flailed around uselessly. I had just enough time to hear a short laugh before the Elf hit me again. This time I fell to my knees.

‘Like every other wraith,’ he commented, ‘you’re useless in a man-to-man fight. You only do your dirty work from the shadows and you only stab your victims in the back. You’re more coward than anything.’ He snorted. ‘No doubt that’s why you’re not yet here in person.’ He crouched down. ‘Time is ticking, little wraith. If you’re not here by nine o’clock tomorrow evening, then all bets are off.’

I groaned aloud, although de Florinville wouldn’t have heard it. I twisted my head and prepared to concentrate enough to pull away but it was just my luck that he took that opportunity to smack me again. Talk about hitting someone when they were down. Who was the coward now?

I yanked myself away until I was against the outer edges of the magical circle and as far from the Elf as possible then I curled up into a ball to protect myself. I had to get out of here but I was terrified of letting him to torture my shadow self while my consciousness was absent. But what choice did I have?

As I lifted my hands to shield my head, I noticed the nearest window. There were fifteen panes of glass in total, framed by a criss-cross of old lead that looked as if it had been there for generations. Someone had screwed up, however: one of the glass panes was different to the others. At some point in the not-too-distant past it must have been broken and replaced. I memorized it carefully, the second pane on the right, three down from the top, just before de Florinville loomed over me once again. Without waiting any longer, I pulled my consciousness away from my shadow and back to my real body.

My return didn’t stop the pain. Agony ripped through me once more and I was forced to stuff my fist into my mouth to stop myself from crying out loud. Lights danced in front of my eyes and it felt as if my teeth were rattling around in my skull. I wobbled upwards, breathing hard, and waited for the next shock of pain. De Florinville was no fool; he obviously knew that whatever damage he did to a wraith’s shadow would manifest itself in its physical self too.

I wondered whether he’d tortured other wraiths he’d come across. Had he been the target of their assassination attempts or was it someone else? Someone he loved? I braced for more agonizing blows.

No more pain flashed through me. He must have worked out that my consciousness was no longer with him. Perhaps he was lulling me into a false sense of security and he’d start pummelling me again when I least expected it. Then I remembered what he’d said and started to relax. He considered me and my kind to be cowards. In de Florinville’s opinion, unless you attacked your target head-on you were a despicable being. That was all very well when you had a Dark Elf’s innate power. The rest of us had to grasp every advantage where we could, even if people like de Florinville believed us to be sneaky and under-hand. On the plus side, he probably wouldn’t continue to attack me, not until I showed up in person.

I breathed out through my mouth; there was the faint bitter tang of blood in my mouth and I spat on the ground. Technically, I still had eighteen or nineteen hours before my shadow would give up the ghost but my encounter with de Florinville, had knocked off some of that time. There was no point in dilly-dallying any longer. Besides, I already had almost everything I needed. All I wanted now was Lady Luck on my side and I’d be quids in.

***

I limped towards the castle, the gentle breeze blowing my shabby dress around me. Rather than sneak in, I was taking the main approach that was well lit by twin rows of torches. With no shadow, I had to be very careful. My best option was to appear utterly cowed. Frankly, that wasn’t hard.