|
"How many miles to Aravalon?
Three score and ten."
"You're singing."
Jaia eyed Merion. Dav shifted in her lap, half asleep and probably cold. Little enough she could do about that right now. "You don't sing?"
"Not that song. I've never heard it."
Dav opened his eyes long enough to blink at Merion. "It's the end of the Travel Game," he explained.
Merion smiled faintly. "Ah. Could you finish it for me, then?"
"Uh huh." He twisted around so he was facing Merion.
"Will I be there ere roses die?
Yes, and back again.
If the blood is old and the steel is cold,
Yes, and back again."
Merion looked at Jaia in a way that made her want to punch him squarely between the eyes. "Aravalon is a large city. How will you find your friends?" His lips twitched. "Do you even know what a real city is?"
"I'm Manthrinian, not stupid." Jaia smoothed her skirts over her stockings. "You Tashiri seem to confuse them."
"No more than you confuse us with Shagul's spawn."
Jaia sought a good retort and naturally found nothing. Tem and Wat were quick with their tongues. Not her. She sighed and sniffed the cool night air. The only scents were their own and those of the wolves.
"Jaia?" Dav asked suddenly. "Are you sure we're safe here?"
She smiled. "Of course we are. And tomorrow we'll find an inn and get something to eat. Right, Merion?"
He snorted. "On the border?"
She threw a twig at him.
"Ow!" Rubbing his abused arm, the Tashiri scooted over to sit beside Jaia. "I will not lie to the boy. We're as likely to stumble across the Red Hand as find any real safe - Ow!"
"We'll be all right, Dav." The boy looked up at her with frightened eyes. He was only ten, after all; it was difficult to remember that. "It's all right," she whispered, rocking him slowly. "We'll be all right."
Gradually his eyes closed and his breathing grew steady. Jaia rested her chin in his dark hair and watched Merion for a long time, unsure of what it was she was searching for. The Seal did not weight so heavily on her heart as Dav's life; the former was worth less to her and, at least in her opinion, was far less precious. She wondered how many supposed champions of the Light understood what she did: to place anything above a child's life was sacreligious - completely against everything the Creator represented.
"You will be a wonderful mother," Merion said suddenly.
"That matters to you?"
He nodded slowly. "Your child will be my people's Emperor. Of course it matters to me."
"It's more than that." By the faint moonlight she could see the emotions warring on his face. "What aren't you telling me?"
"I have my own life, Jaia Beastspeaker." Anger and despair stung her nose, overlaid with other, more gentle scents she could not quite identify. "Let me hold onto that while I still can."
She touched his arm. "I don't think anyone has their own life anymore. Especially people travelling with vereni."
"Nonetheless." He settled himself against a tree trunk. "What will you name your child?"
"I don't know." It did not seem strange that she would be a mother someday. She had been watching children in Baradell since she was too young to cover her hair with a kerchief. "You're Tashiri. What name would you want?"
"Jular." He looked at his hands. "It was my mother's name. It mean hope."
"It's beautiful."
"I'm sure your child will be beautiful, too."
Again there was that acrid-sweet scent that Jaia could not quite identify. A part of her understood what if might be, but she shied away from that knowledge. There was far more important things that needed seeing to.
"Jaia." Merion's face looked strangely naked without a single smirk to hide the earnestness in his eyes. "If soemthing happens...the Tashar Empire is large and diverse. Two more people would not be noticed. And...and my family still holds a little sway." He touched her hand gently. "You and Dav would be safe there. We...we could all be safe."
"We're safe for tonight," she whispered. And somehow, despite everything, she knew that her words were true.
***
Gwaindlyn sped through the halls of the Manifest, sending servants and pages alike scattering in her wake. No one stopped her, for which she uttered praises to the Light many times over. Elador slept fitfully and woke often during the night. She had precious little time as it was - and she needed every scrap of it for the task she had planned.
The inner sanctum was empty this late. More out of habit than any true devotion, she bowed her head to the matyrs of the Creator in their stained glass windows and knelt before the front pew before the eternal torch. Fumbling fingers produced the precious t'a'grel from the inner pockets of her robes.
Now came the true risk. She reached out for idar, filth and all, and drew the little scrap that she was still capable of. A tiny smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. How much would Layla and Ihvan give to know that their sister had taught herself to channel, even if she was many hundreds of times weaker than either of them? One would turn her over to the Tower and the other to the monster dwelling restlessly in Shagul. Either way, she was twice cursed if she was discovered - assuming that the Sisters did not gut her first.
The tiny filigree globe flared suddenly with a faint inner light. It projected the ghostly images to the floor. Gwaindlyn did not claim to understand how it worked; it had been made in the last Age, when great feats were still possible and channelers were free of the Order and the Tower. All she knew was that it had been in her family for a hundred generations and until she had come across it, none had known its true worth.
The first image was of a very young girl sleeping on a dark cloak. Her black curls fell about her like a cape and her white dress gleamed.
Beside her, the tall girl also slumbered, cradling a little boy in her lap. Her skirts were filthy and her kerchief was gone, but she did not look any worst for wear than the first girl.
The third girl - woman, Gwaindlyn corrected absently - was awake and dressed in some sort of strange, bright armor. She had a spear in one hand and rode on a fine horse. She was safe as well, then.
But the last two...
The long-legged girl and the black-haired girl with the golden mark on her face were pale shadows of themselves, lacking substance or form. Worse, the marked one had a bloody wound in her side. Gwaindlyn shook her head, her lips pressing together in a tight line. Elador had found none of them, but she could not say how long that would last.
She released idar and the five images disappeared. The filigree globe disappeared into the depths of her robe.
Five young women. Five vereni where the scanty records of the last Age suggested only three should exist. It did not bode well, not at all.
She stood and said a prayer of thanks to the Illuminated martyrs and the Creator. Elador would not miss her. She lifted her skirts and hurried back out of the sanctum before anyone else could remark on the High Seat's assistant shirking her duties.
***
There were few cases when Elador would admit another's skill surpassed his own. Leese in the Dreaming was one. The stern woman knew the world of shadows and reflections as if it was simply an extension of herself, existing solely for her amusement and manipulation. It was also one of the rare times when she looked at ease and in her element - and when Layla Trahelion actually squirmed.
"You look pleased," he said simply.
"I am." Leese leaned back in her rough wooden chair. If it looked odd that it was sitting in the middle of a forest clearing, then neither Elador nor the women took notice. "The Great Lord wished to be presented with a trophy?" She waved her hand and a sort of window appeared in midair. White-clad bodies were strewn about a small, dusty storeroom, surrounding a woman hung by a striped stole.
"The Amyrlin?" Elador asked.
"With Layla's personal touch." Leese grimaced as she spoke. Not for the first time, Elador found himself wondering exactly what part of her operated out of loyalty to the Great Lord and how much functioned simply on vengeance and festering grief. "One Novice was able to escape, but I do not see how she can cause us much difficulty. She was barely a child."
"Don't forget the Soldier," Layla said. Her honey-sweet voice fit her about as well as it did a viper. Her throne was encrusted with jewels and diamonds, but her control was less perfect; the gemstones and ornate filigree changed with every moment.
Leese glared at her. "A secret Tower will not be missed. A Soldier will be." She folded her hands in her lap primly. "In any event, he is taken care of."
Elador raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You couldn't work your mind tricks on him, Trahelion?"
Layla's beautiful smile might have turned stomachs weaker than his. "No. But what good is being alive if you have lost all will to live?"
"She Severed him," Leese added bluntly.
***
Tem's hand started for the knife she knew would be there. But despite the disgust and horror visible in the Protector's eyes, she shook her head once in warning. "Kill one and the others will know exactly where we are. Do nothing."
"But - "
"Do you want to live or not?"
Tem subsided into a sullen glower and turned her attention back to the three demons. Demons, a part of her whispered. Mai could be dying and I'm sitting here watching demons. A fine friend I am.
But there was nothing to be done. It was sheer accident that they had stumbled across this meeting and leaving now would only draw unwanted attention.
***
"You Severed him?" Elador echoed.
"She would have done otherwise had I permitted her." Leese's eyes narrowed slightly as she looked at the other woman. For a moment Elador felt a trace of puzzlement. As far as she knew, Leese had never once shown herself to be confrontational, not even in what was for all intents and purposes her second home.. If she was openly opposing Layla, then something more must be at stake here.
"What else did you learn?" he asked softly.
Leese jumped. Layla's eyes went wide. Elador smiled inwardly. He still held some surprises. More than his little sister had up her sleeve. Certainly more than these women could comprehend.
"The Soldier's name was Jakob," Leese said finally. "He was Manthrinian. And he knew something about my daughter's death."
It was Elador's turn to be startled. What could a Soldier know about something that had happened more than a decade ago? "Why do you say that?" he demanded.
"He saw what he believed to be the Paladin at during the Tashiri incursion. At Therindelle." Leese sat back slowly. "I tried to threaten his family, but I could get nothing more out of him. He is hiding things still."
"When he has been ostracized from the Tower, I will question him again," Layla said with a tight smile. "He won't bother us."
Leese's dark eyes turned on her companion. "Don't be so quick to judge. There was something about that one. He is dangerous - and I think he will always be so regardless of what we do to him." She glanced at Elador. "I don't like it, my lord. We're missing something important about him."
"We'll see." Elador stood and allowed his chair to vanish. "The Paladin will have to go to Aravalon if she wishes to gain the support of the White Tower. Wait for her. Win her trust if you can, use force if you must - but capture her and bring her to me."
Layla smiled. Leese, however, was not so quick on the uptake. "Alive?" she asked.
Elador allowed himself a light chuckle. "What good is a dead Paladin when a living one is much more useful? Mairya DeShellay is the most powerful channeler in the world."
"She will never bow to the Great Lord," Leese snapped. "You know as well as anyone. She never has in all the turnings of the Wheel."
"Thirteen demons, thirteen Fades at Shagul," Elador quoted the child's rhyme quietly. "The Paladin will bow to the Great Lord."
***
"No!"
Something primal awoke inside Tem. Twisting free of the Protector's grasp, she stood up and threw her knife in one swift, fluid motion. She did not care if she lived or died. All she wanted - all that mattered - was seeing cold steel in the he-demon's heart.
The air itself wrapped her in an invisible vise and lifted her high into the air, in full view of the three demons. She could not see the Protector; her eyes were locked straight ahead of her.
"Elador," the older woman whispered softly. "What - ?" Her eyes narrowed. "She is not the Paladin."
"She does not need to be," the younger woman said with a smile to chill the blood. "Are you blind as well as stupid? She is vereni."
"Rot in Shagul!" Tem managed to wrench her head around slightly, just enough to aim her spittle at the younger woman's fancy dress. Her arms were wrenched behind her, painfully cutting off her curses.
"Layla. Leese. Enough." The tall man held up her dagger. "Good throw, girl. You almost had me." He tucked the dagger in his belt. "At least part of our problem has been solved, then. We no longer need to go hunting for DeShellay."
"Why not?" the younger woman demanded.
"Why hunt a deer when you can lure it to you?" the tall man - Elador - asked mildly
Tem's heart lurched in her chest. Where are you?! she screamed silently. But the Protector did not answer. She was alone. And she knew with terrible certainty that she had condemned Mai to a living death.
And the pain of that knowledge brought blinding tears to her eyes.
|