Power's Shadow

by Richard Parks

  Mara just shook her head. “Longfeather, I am going to do you one last favor—I am going to change you back into a goshawk until tomorrow morning. Use the time to travel to Goandel, and meet us there in about three days’ time. If you are not there I will assume that you have disobeyed me again and I will turn you into something that can’t cause trouble for anyone. Ever. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Very clear,” Longfeather said. “But I thought you were already done with me.”

  “I have thought of a use for you. It won’t change my decision, mind, but you are going to do something to repay at least a small amount of the harm you’ve caused, and what you would have caused by throwing your lot in with the people who put you in that cage.” Marta leaned close to the cage amd told Lonfeather what else was expected of him. He clearly was not happy about it, but Marta took no heed of that. “Now go.”

  In a moment it was done. Longfeather hopped through the bars of the cage but instead of flying away immediately, he fluttered up to land on the top of the cage and turned to face Marta again.

  “Before I go, I was entrusted with a message for you.”

  “From whom?” Marta asked.

  The goshawk that was Longfeather shrugged his wings. “I think ‘from what’ might be more accurate. She called herself Amaet, but I don’t think she was human. It was the way she appeared, glowing like a star, and then vanished that made me suspect.”

  Marta held very still. “Oh? And what did Amaet say?”

  “She said to tell you ‘I’m waiting.’ Those words exactly.”

  “That was all?” Marta asked.

  “Yes, mistress,” he said.

  “Then away with you. And remember what I said.”

  Longfeather launched himself from the top of the cage, circled overhead just one time and was soon out of sight to the north.

  “Another likely bad choice, this time my own, but the bandits left us with some unfinished business, which Longfeather is going to assist us with.”

  “What unfinished business? And what did that mean, ‘I’m waiting’?” Sela asked.

  Marta sighed. “For the first, I’ll explain later. As for the latter—“ Marta just shrugged. “I haven’t the vaguest idea.”

  The bandits clearly had not been in business for very long. When Prince Dolan’s guards located the robbers’ cache it amounted to little more than a few gold trinkets and jewelry. “What shall we do with it?” Kian asked.

  “Whoever was murdered at the way station intended it for the monastery,” Prince Dolan said. “We’ll see that it reaches there safely. There’s little else we can do for them.”

  Prince Dolan did order that the burial pit be filled in, and he even picked up one of the shovels himself, though he did need some instruction in how to use it properly. Marta and Sela left them to it.

  ““I need to find the opposite trail leading in. There has to be one.” Marta said. “We’ll be back soon, gentlemen.”

  “I know you can look after yourself, but do be careful,” Dolan said, as he tried to keep a clod of dirt from spilling off the shovel. “We haven’t searched the entire valley yet.”

  “We will be.”

  Sela glanced back once. “How many princes would pick up a shovel and learn how to use it without a dagger pressing into his back?”

  “Known many princes, have you?”

  Sela blushed. “You know what I mean.”

  “I do. My guess is—not many would. Dolan’s a little odd, even for royalty.”

  Marta called to Bonetapper and he landed on her shoulder as she walked back through the woods with Sela. “There has to be another way into this valley. Do you know where it is?”

  “Yes.”

  “Show us.”

  Bonetapper steered them toward the north end of the valley where the cliff walls began to close in again, then up a steep incline. They reached the top and found themselves in a narrow defile. Most of the afternoon sun was blocked by the stone walls but clear daylight showed at the far end. When Marta and Sela reached it they looked out on a sloped ridge that led away to yet another narrow mountain valley and then another ridge of mountains beyond that.

  “Just beyond there you will find the village of Goandel, on the pilgrim road,” Bonetapper said. The Snake Pass emerges several leagues to the east, but there’s a low pass through that ridge, so it’s easy to reach from here.”

  “You can return to the pass, if you like. Wait for me there.”

  “Understood,” Bonetapper said, and he flew away.

  “You could cut a day’s travel time off the journey by going through the cave and taking this other route,” Sela pointed out.

  “Provided you’re on foot. And another group of bandits doesn’t decide to move in. The Snake Pass is one thing, and there’s a long tradition of shared control, but the actual border as it exists through the mountains is uncertain. It’s unlikely that either Wylandia or Conmyre would accept responsibility for securing this new route without several years of diplomacy, if even then.”

  Sela let out a sigh. “I hadn’t considered that.”

  “If Prince Dolan isn’t considering it even now I’ll be surprised. Come on, let’s go back.”

  The first rumbling began once they were about a bowshot away from the defile. Marta didn’t even glance back, but Sela did.

  “The opening has collapsed upon itself.”

  “Yes. Apparently it wasn’t stable,” Marta said.

  “You did that. Or are you going to say you don’t know who did, as with the overhang?”

  “Oh, I never said I didn’t know who collapsed the overhang. I just said it didn’t matter. And it doesn’t…yet. I did, however, destroy the exit, yes.”

  They found Prince Dolan and the other men resting from their efforts at the pit. He gave Marta an odd look.

  “We heard what sounded like a rock slide. I’m glad to see you’re both all right.”

  “We are. We found where the bandits were getting in, but the crevice has collapsed. A skilled mountaineer could still reach it from that direction, but no one else.”

  Prince Dolan looked thoughtful. “Perhaps that is for the best.”

  “I thought so too,” Marta said. “Are we ready to leave?”

  “Almost.”

  The three men kneeled by the pit and Dolan began to sing. Marta recognized the song as a hymn to Amatok. When he was finished the three of them went down to the stream to wash some of the dirt off. Marta and Sela waited by the mouth of the cave until they returned. Their clothing was a bit worse for wear, but they appeared refreshed, if weary. After they had all climbed back down and rejoined the rest of their party there was still an hour or so of daylight left. Marta suggested they move on and no one objected, there being little interest in sleeping on the blood of the murdered pilgrims. They were not quite out of sight of the cliff cave when there was another rumbling, and a cloud of dust billowed out of the opening before it sank in on itself, leaving just the barest crevice to suggest where it had been.

  First Law, Marta thought.

  “Also likely for the best,” Marta said, as Prince Dolan looked back.

  Dolan looked as if he was going to say something, thought better of it, and said something else. “No doubt you are right. Still, it’s a pity. It was a lovely spot.”

  “Yes. Now it can remain that way. And perhaps those unfortunate pilgrims will find peace.”

  “May it be so,” Dolan said, and that was the end of it. Sir Kian just looked at the both of them but said nothing at all. They found a place to make camp further up the pass.

  While Akan and Devan saw to the horses Sela assisted Kian in preparing a meal. Marta walked a short distance ahead. The walls of the cliff loomed high above, but there were no overhangs in that section. In the pass the light had faded quickly but the stars refused to appear as daylight clung to the mountain tops. She stood there, waiting for the stars or something else. Something else turned out to be Prince Dolan.

  “T
hat’s a remarkable ability you have,” he said.

  “It’s impressive enough. It’s also the first one an Arrow Path witch learns,” Marta replied. “There’s probably a reason for that. So. Is there something on your mind, Prince?”

  “The person who brought down the overhang has the same ability.”

  “Yes.”

  “So you do know we’re being followed.”

  “I suspected. Who spotted her first, Kian or Loken?”

  “Loken. He has a knack for that sort of thing. Which just goes to show how well the bandits were hidden, if he didn’t spot them first.”

  “Neither did Bonetapper, and he has an advantage at that sort of thing.”

  “Indeed. What is to be done about your shadow?”

  Marta shrugged. “For now? Nothing. She doesn’t intend us harm, again for now. As you saw, I think she tried to help us.”

  “Do you know who this person is? What they want?”

  “I know what they are, as certainly you have guessed. What they want…I believe she wants something she thinks I either have or will soon acquire, but do not concern yourself, Highness—she is not a threat to anyone but me, and when the time comes she and I will settle things.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  “In the matter of Master Solthyr’s swords? Yes. In the matter of my shadow? No, Highness. But please believe that I do appreciate the offer.”

  “Well, then. I will trust that you know what you’re doing, Lady Marta.”

  There’s a kind heart at the bottom of all that calculation. I do hope it doesn’t get him into trouble, Marta thought.

  She waited until the first stars appeared overhead and then followed Dolan back to join the others.

  §

  “I will break up the stone tomorrow,” Dena said. “After we give them enough time to get out of earshot. They may suspect that we’re here but there’s no point in emphasizing it.”

  “I heartily agree,” Kel said. “But I wonder if the gentleman sitting on top of the rock watching us feels the same way?”

  The figure was hooded and wearing a black robe, so Dena considered Kel’s assessment of the person as male to be somewhat uncertain. What wasn’t uncertain was the person’s face—what little Dena could see of it—was turned toward them. Dena considered shattering the rock beneath the figure, but thought perhaps such an action might be premature. Yet she kept her concentration on the First Law even as she spoke up.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  “Isn’t it customary for the one asking the questions to introduce themselves first?”

  The voice was definitely male, if not especially deep. Yet it carried easily down to them. “My name is Dena. This is Kel. Who are you?” she repeated.

  “You may call me Domar. I seem to remember having a friend with that name once, long ago…I think. The memory does play tricks as one gets older. Regardless, I’ve always like that name.”

  Dena frowned. “What name do you call yourself?”

  She still couldn’t see his face, but Dena had the distinct impression that he was smiling at her.

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. ‘Domar’ will do, for the time being. So. What do you plan to do now?”

  Dena frowned. “Excuse me?”

  “I was asking about your plan. Surely you have one, or else why follow Marta around the entirety of the Twelve Kingdoms?”

  Dena’s frown deepened. “Twelve?”

  “More of them now? Or fewer? There once was twelve. I do remember that.”

  “Eleven, with the joining of Borasur and Morushe half a millennium ago,” Kel added, but Dena glared at him and he fell silent.

  “Of course, how silly of me. I should have remembered that one. Especially that one.”

  “Domar, or whoever you are, you’re starting to try my patience, and frankly I don’t have a great deal.”

  “I can attest,” Kel said, but this time Dena didn’t bother to glare. She simply shattered the stone on which the stranger was sitting.

  “Now then—“

  Dena didn’t finish. The man who called himself Domar hadn’t moved. At all. He still sat, cross-legged, in the place where he had been, only now the stone where had been sitting wasn’t there. He sat in empty space over where the stone had been.

  “You started to say something,” Domar said helpfully. “Pray continue.”

  For a few moments all Dena could do was stare. It was Kel who broke the silence first. “Are you a ghost?”

  “No, which is something of a miracle in itself. In case you were wondering why your companion’s rather impressive stone shattering trick neither moved nor harmed me, I must confess that, in a sense, I’m not really here. I mean, part of me is. My body, so to speak, is not.”

  “Sounds like a ghost to me,” Kel muttered.

  “Perhaps a distinction without a difference, where you are concerned. And rather beside the point. I asked what your plans are, Lady Dena.”

  “Domar, or whoever you really are, I admit that your floating up there like a phantom is a clever trick and I admit that I don’t know how it’s done, but why would I share my intentions with you? What business is it of yours?”

  “I merely thought that our interests might align. You want to know why Marta is seeking out certain blades by the master smith, Solthyr, yes?”

  “How did you—“

  Dena stopped herself, but she had the feeling that the stranger was smiling at her again. “Oh, please, it wasn’t difficult. You’re looking for the same thing Marta is looking for. You and I both know that she’s looking for those swords. Why would any witch of the Arrow Path give a fig for a sword? She doesn’t use—or need—them any more than you do. As swords, that is. So what is she really after? What any witch of the Arrow Path is after—the next so-called Law of Power. That’s what you want, and you believe Marta is on the path to the same place. That’s why you’re following her. That’s why she knows that you’re following her, and why she wants to meet you. She’s taken no action yet, but she will, sooner or later. I think it would be wiser of you not to delay too long.”

  Dena scowled. “’So-called’ Law of Power? What does that mean?”

  “Honestly, you’re focusing on the wrong thing, but I meant only that the Arrow Path isn’t the only path there is. There were avenues to magic before, and I dare say there may be after. Not that this matters to either of us at the moment, so I will repeat—what is your plan?”

  “I don’t have one,” Dena said. “Any more than I think Marta does. We’re figuring this out as we go.”

  The words sounded strange to her. She hadn’t meant to say anything, but there it was. For a moment she wasn’t even sure what had just happened.

  Kel looked at her. “Mistress? Are you all right?”

  “No.” Dena glared at the stranger. “What did you do to me?”

  “Absolutely nothing,” he said. “but doesn’t it feel better to admit the truth, especially to yourself? Marta did that a long time ago, which may be why she’s ahead of you. Though I will say, to your credit, that you’re following the right person.”

  “I answered your question,” Dena said grimly. “Now answer mine—what business is any of this of yours? What do you mean, that our interests may align?”

  “Just that. You want to find the Laws of Power. So do I.”

  “You’re after the Fifth Law, too,” Dena said.

  She didn’t have to intuit if the stranger was smiling at her this time, because he laughed out loud. “No, Lady Dena, and I should have expressed that better. I don’t want the Laws of Power, any of them. What I want is for you and Marta to find them.”

  “Why? Why do you care?”

  “That’s a separate question. I may answer it, but right now I don’t have another question to trade, and taking this form is exhausting, truth be told. Perhaps I will see you again, if you stay alive. I really hope you do.”

  The image calling himself Domar then vanished, cl
eaner than snuffing a candle.

  Kel stared at the place where he had been. “What did he mean, ‘if you stay alive’?”

  Dena just shrugged. “Just what he said. “This country is dangerous. Marta is dangerous,” she said, and then went on. “I am dangerous. Yet I don’t know what my chances against her would be if Marta does find the Fifth Law before I do. I don’t even know what my chances are now.”

  Kel wasn’t used to Dena’s frankness. He wondered if it would last. “Is this thing you’re looking for really worth your life?”

  “Yours and mine both,” Dena said.

  “I was afraid you’d say that.”

  “There’s a simple way to avoid getting answers you don’t like,” Dena said.

  “Stop asking questions?”

  Dena nodded. “So you’re not beyond learning something new. I wondered.”

  Ω

  15 A fortress in the clouds

  “In order to rule successfully, a monarch needs three things: the loyalty of the dogs, the acquiescence of the sheep, and the discernment to know which group is which. A lack of any of these is trouble, but the want of the third has been the downfall of more kingdoms than all the wars and plagues of history.” –From the Journals of Aldair VII of Wylandia, as Annotated by Seb of the Kuldun Order.

  In three days’ time Marta’s party reached the village of Goandel, where Longfeather was supposed to be waiting for them. She had since confided her plan to Prince Dolan, who willingly agreed to assist.

  “What if Longfeather isn’t here?” Sela asked.

  “Then he’s either dead or a bigger fool than even I thought him to be,” Marta said. “And all the worse for him either way.”

  There was only one inn, the Black Wolf, for all of Goandel, which wasn’t a problem as the traffic on the pilgrim trail was especially light at the time, which Marta already suspected since they had met no one else on the road. As they were getting settled in and the wagons and horses taken care of, Longfeather appeared in the common room of the inn.

  “All is prepared as you requested, mistress. I can arrange the meeting whenever you wish.”

  “Tomorrow morning then, at the trail head leading into the mountains. I believe you know the place.”