Hunter and Fox

by Philippa Ballantine

  “He wouldn't know a Vaerli from any other beggar,” Equo went on.

  Finn could feel himself getting a little red.

  “Much more likely to find a Vaerli out in the market,” Varlesh boomed, sounding suspiciously as if he was nearing the bar.

  Miraculously, the near-mob dissipated, and they became people again. Some made for the door to investigate Varlesh's claim, but the rest settled down to their seats.

  Equo took a firm grip of Finn's elbow and guided him back to his compatriots. The dark-eyed Si nodded at Finn. Varlesh appeared, beer mug in hand, sat down quickly, and ordered some meat pies from the relieved barmaid.

  Draining his mug with relish, the older man grinned at Finn. “You're so predictable, boyo—always in a pickle and never knowing how to get out of it. You'd think a man of words would find a way out of such messes.”

  “I give performances, not debates,” the talespinner grumbled before taking one of the trio's hot pies, “but you seem to know how to handle a crowd.”

  “Experience,” Equo replied affably.

  Varlesh wiggled his fingers. “That and a little bit of magic.”

  Finn stared at him for a moment, not quite sure if they were joking or not. Something about Si's fixed look suggested more.

  “Still, it's nice to see you've survived,” Equo said in a lowered tone. “We really didn't expect you to. But maybe you were right. There are rumors more powerful than even the appearance of Talyn the Dark in the Singing Fish.”

  “Wasn't so much the story,” Varlesh went on, “more the amazement that someone had the bare-faced cheek to speak the words in the Caisah's Citadel.”

  “You've caused a stir, Finn, and now we have to get you out!”

  “Unless you really do have some fool death wish…”

  Finn traced the rough surface of the table. Truthfully, he hadn't been thinking that far ahead. “I guess I have done what I came here to do…”

  That admission was enough, and before he knew it the trio had him upstairs packing his meager possessions and getting out of the inn. He did resist being taken down the back stairs. “I'm not a fugitive!”

  “You should be.” Si touched his shoulder. “The Caisah will make a puzzle of you.”

  “What does he mean by that?”

  The other two shared a glance.

  “Don't know for sure, lad,” Varlesh replied, “but the Caisah has set some mighty puny bounties recently, and from last night's performance you could well be on the list. The Pure Maid knows how we are going to get you out of the City!”

  “It's possible you got your wish, Finn,” Equo said. “You might just have got the attention from the Caisah you wanted.”

  So Finn allowed himself to be hustled out the back way and tried not to wonder if that was a surge of fear or excitement in his chest.

  Everything was waiting, for Talyn the Dark: waiting to end the Harrowing, waiting for news of her brother, waiting for the Caisah to command her. She was indeed, as he called her, a hawk—pinned to his wrist, a hood over her eyes, totally unable to take action for herself. She might not be one of his mistresses, but he had her just where he wanted her.

  Talyn had sweated away the day in the confines of the Citadel, unable to settle anywhere. With nothing to do but wait for her next bounty, Talyn found time weighing on her. As the day stole away, she lingered by the Great Hall and found in the air a feeling of expectancy she had never felt in the Citadel. So she buckled on her mother's blade and the Caisah's pistol and went out to see if V'nae Rae would tell her what was happening.

  The night had just opened, and the air was wonderfully chill. It was a magic time. Looking down from the Southern Terrace, Talyn had to admit the beauty had not left with her people. Under the silver-blue light of the moons, the carved walls glowed. Despite herself she sighed, eyes roaming over the courtyards and towers, recalling with deep melancholy the past.

  Nostalgia might be a pleasant sensation for shorter-lived races, but for every Vaerli, even those practicing nemohira, it was nothing but pain. There was just too much of it. The ghosts of her people were conjured up on each corner, and everywhere Talyn looked she felt nothing but the weight of time.

  She'd been born here, like her mother, but now it only caused her distress. It was only in the night she would allow herself such thoughts and never while on a hunt. Memories rushed from all about to plague her: whispers of children's voices, the brazen recollection of events, and the faces she somehow still expected to see.

  A'shenn, her brother had called her, after the smallest letter in their alphabet—a mocking of her size in the manner of children. Never had there been time for her to choose an adult name. The Harrowing had intervened, cutting her away from the Kindred.

  The Kindred. Why was she suddenly thinking of them? Something familiar stirred in her.

  Because in the quiet you feel me, Vaerli'meroth.

  A thrill of fear passed through Talyn the like of which she could not remember having felt for a very long time. All she had learnt of the Kindred came rushing back.

  “I feel you indeed, but walking within a Vaerli shadow is forbidden by the Pact.”

  The Pact is broken. Your people scattered. We have nothing between our kind anymore.

  The Kindred were not to be treated idly. Even before the Pact they had been deadly and fickle, just as that foolish talespinner had said. Who knew what they had become since the Harrowing.

  Talyn was frozen with sudden fear.

  I feel your thoughts, Talyn called the Dark. You have forgotten that your ancestor made the alliance possible. Do you think one of my kind would hurt one of Ellyria's children?

  “The line of Ellyria is broken like the Pact. How do I know what you may do?” she snapped. “Why are you in my shadow?”

  The world is moving, Talyn. If your kind were whole they would feel it as we do. The balance has been disturbed and changes are coming if the Caisah wills it or not. His time of domination is ending.

  She found she was holding her breath. It was too soon. The Vaerli were still crippled by the Harrowing, and if another Conflagration erupted they would be helpless.

  It will not wait. We will not wait. Already others are reacting, if the Vaerli cannot. The world is beginning to ring to the sound of uprising. Will you not join them, Talyn the Dark? Shake off the bonds you have made for yourself and cast down the Caisah!

  Oh, there was a moment of temptation in that—a brief second of imagining, where she could see herself attacking their ancient enemy. Then reality found her. No hope existed for the Vaerli if she died. Only the Caisah's promise and the Golden Puzzle held any hope.

  Foolish child-Vaerli. You are making your own prison. The Caisah plays with you like a toy, and you only have yester-thoughts not future-thoughts. He uses this against you and laughs.

  “We made the strongest of blood pacts. He cannot break it without breaking himself. Now get out of my shadow!” she yelled, making the walls of V'nae Rae ring with Vaerli anger.

  You and your kind have no power to command me, Talyn the Darkest, so I will stay and watch and wait.

  She slammed her fists into the unforgiving stone wall, hoping the pain would reach the Kindred, but it did not come out and she could not Name it.

  “I will not let you. I will not!”

  Despite herself, Talyn jumped when the pale face of the young guardsman from the Caisah's door appeared around the corner she'd been leaning against. She recognized the young man who had challenged her.

  Gulping down her frustration, Talyn tried to recapture her icy mask. “Yes?”

  “Forgive me,” he made an unconscious half-bow. “The Caisah has a bounty for you, so your presence is required.”

  Thankfully the Kindred within made no comment. Talyn made her way to her room and replaced the sword lovingly in its box. Dropping the pistol, she followed the impatient heels of the guard. They passed Kelanim in the presence chamber. She was reclining on a low sofa and smiled prettily at Talyn as s
he passed. The Vaerli could smell sex on her, and she supposed this was why the mistress looked so very pleased with herself.

  The interior of the Puzzle Room was different, seen by torch. The light flickered and bounced over the pieces, lending a liquid amber glow to the ceiling and illuminating the Caisah waiting near the window in a sinister cast.

  He was dressed only in light trousers of pale linen, and his chest gleamed with sweat. Talyn didn't need an explanation as to why. It was indeed the only reason the Caisah went to bed. He never slept, but he did like to maintain the impression of something akin to humanity. The population already lived in terrible fear of him. How much more afraid would they be if they knew his eyes never shut, and he spent his nights in dark contemplation of his work?

  “My Hunter, I see you are as restless as I tonight.” He beckoned her closer through the red-gold reflections. “I thought I would have the pleasure of your company for many days yet, but needs must. I will avenge all insults against me.”

  She drew up within arm's reach of him and waited, holding her tongue for him to say the name. The world narrowed down to that.

  “His name is Finnbarr the Fox.” The sum of her last remaining Vaerli magic flared. Talyn was momentarily blind. Her skin prickled and her muscles twitched as the name buried itself within her. She saw the face and was not surprised to recognize it. The talespinner had been a fool to push the Caisah.

  “He is not far,” she whispered under her breath. “Within the city.”

  “Yes, that is what I am told.” The Caisah's eyes were now hooded. Whatever emotions he had in such moments he always kept to himself. “He is not much prey for my worthy hawk, but he is an annoyance and thus justifies a piece of your puzzle. It should be an easy piece…”

  He enjoys seeing you hunt, foolish Vaerli. The Kindred's voice was like salt in an open wound, but she did not flinch or reply. To show weakness before the Caisah was something she would not allow.

  It was an easy piece for her to claim and she wondered at it. What could be his motivation? Was he bored with their game after all these centuries, or could it be that this Finnbarr was more of an adversary than he was letting on?

  Why do you puzzle over it? You will bring him back dead or alive to your master's feet, like the hunting hound you are.

  She turned on her heel, acknowledging neither the gold-cast Caisah nor the entrenched Kindred. Nothing was to be gained in doing so, and she was well used to ignoring the irrelevancies of life. For the moment she had her prey and prize to consider.

  It would have been better for Finn and his friends if the moons had not been as full—but they had to work with what they had. Still, Perilous was quiet. All the hustle and bustle of the day was packed away, and only the desperate or the dangerous were out on the street. Finn couldn't pinpoint exactly which of these groups he belonged to.

  Lighting was sparse, with only a few lanterns hung at street corners. They moved quickly and quietly to the outermost edge of the city. The gates were shut for the night, but Finn's friends knew plenty of people who would shelter them until daylight.

  He had to admit to a surge of nervousness. The houses here drooped over the streets like conspirators in some ancient plot, and he did not like being unable to see the sky. The neighborhood had a reek of urine and wine, and the lack of people responsible for either of those made it unbearably spooky. He was a talespinner, so he knew spooky intimately.

  Admittedly, he shouldn't have been surprised when a figure appeared in the dim light, barely discernible from the rest of the darkness except for the length of blade that she carried before her.

  “I do believe you are out after your bedtime,” she said quietly.

  Finn was, for the second time in less than a day, looking into the eyes of Talyn the Dark—and this time he felt the thrill of fear. He froze, knowing she already knew any move he would make and could be there before him. He was in that instant very aware of his life and its fragility. It was her only gift to her victims.

  Even then, he couldn't give up; his talespinning training wouldn't let him. He smiled at her while his friends watched with undisguised horror. “You don't need to do this, Talyn. You don't really want me to die.”

  “You presume much,” Talyn replied, though he thought he detected the faintest of blushes. It was just possible that the Caisah's Hunter did not want it revealed that he had kissed her lips…or even more.

  “What I said was your people's story. I made them listen, even if just for a moment. If you let me go, I will continue to speak the truth and the Vaerli will be known. People will care what happens to them.”

  Talyn frowned but did not move.

  “You don't need that butcher. He killed your people and he is doing the same to you by inches.”

  “Careful, boy.” Varlesh kept his voice low, as if the Hunter were some frightened horse.

  “It is a terrible thing I do,” Talyn replied, her eyes not meeting Finn's, “but I sacrifice myself for them…”

  She was blind—he saw it now. “And what about the innocents, Talyn? What about the orphaned children? The poor wives and husbands crying in the night? The fathers and mothers whom you rob?” He yearned to grab hold of her and give her a shake.

  His words had the opposite effect of what he wanted; her sword came up and her eyes now met his with dark and deadly force.

  “That's broken it,” Equo stated the obvious. “Run!”

  They all obeyed, knowing it would do them no good.

  Talyn could have found Finn by his aura alone. With him named as her prey their bond was unbreakable, except with his death or capture.

  His eyes were no longer calm and she recognized the fear in them with some relief. So he was just a man capable of feeling emotion, and not some vengeful spirit. He could be brought down and his bounty collected.

  They ran—which was to be expected. The before-time blurred around her. Then her prey stopped, and Talyn dropped out in confusion.

  “Wait.” His voice was honeyed and tempered with the power of a talespinner. She was fully aware she mustn't pause for him to bind her with any spells or mind-myths.

  The world reeled. In her shadow the nameless Kindred keened in the high voice of Chaos, momentarily halting her step and blinding her senses.

  Talyn spasmed as it ripped its etheric form free, and tasted metal as it burned out of her throat. For a moment, conscious thought was impossible.

  When her eyes cleared it was to horror. The Kindred was all around Finn in a visible nimbus of fire. Talyn's body went cold. It could not be!

  The nameless Kindred cried out a name in Vaerli through Finn's throat. The cry set the walls ringing and the ground to heaving. The sword dropped from her fingers in shock, just as the Kindred fled deep within Finnbarr's shadow.

  It was impossible, and yet Talyn felt its power shuttering around the four men.

  Only then did the Hunter move with the speed and grace of her people, but it was far too late. The Kindred took them through the earth, and she was left touching only a cooling piece of stone.

  Kneeling there for a moment, her fingers traced the spot while her mind wandered far ahead. The Kindred were her people. The Great Pact had been between them and no other. Why would one protect a Manesto? It went against everything she knew.

  “I think you met your match, little flower.” Talyn's chest tightened, and the world became stranger still as she heard the pet name from a voice she hadn't expected to hear ever again.

  Shaking with a rush of anger and hope, she turned.

  Her father was not tall even among the Vaerli, but he had always had presence. Her eyes could not drink in enough of him, the strange golden hair that marked him out from the rest of their race, the deeply set gray eyes, and the smile almost hidden beneath an immaculate mustache.

  Who was crying? Why could she not breathe?

  “Am I dead?” Talyn finally gasped.

  His eyes were full of tears too, but he held out his hand. “Don't fear, d
aughter. Neither of us is.”

  Reality and the past were now intruding. She backed away from him. “But the Harrowing…how are you here? Where is the pain?”

  His gaze dropped and his shoulders sagged. “I heard,” he whispered softly. “They finally told me what you had become, what you have been doing since that awful day.”

  Talyn shut her eyes and willed him not to say such things. It had been so long since she had heard his voice, and to hear it now condemning her was unbearable.

  “I read the Wyrde they had left for me, carved into the places where we used to meet. They told of my beloved daughter and never had such despair touched me—even when your mother was killed. They said that the time had come to stop your treachery to the memory of our people.”

  In her mind, Talyn had already considered the possibility that one of her own would find her and take her into the fire with the conflagration of the Harrowing. It was almost surprising that they had taken so long to reach the same idea.

  Her father's voice continued on, wrung out with sadness and shame. “Even when I heard what you have done, I could not stand by and let you die. So I went to the Hill of Sorrow in the Salt Plains and performed the trials of Sundering, the goroa'shan.”

  Talyn's shocked exclamation burst from her body—a sudden explosion of horror and guilt. She'd not been expecting that. Only now did she see the gray hairs amongst the golden. Flinging herself into her father's arms, she hugged him tightly.

  It was true, then. No flames arose to claim them, but then neither was there the taste of empathic joy. The only sensation was the feeling of his tight embrace. She couldn't feel the rush of joined minds and feelings. He had cut himself off from that, and all for her.

  She cried until her body ached and her throat broke raw. He held her, stroking her hair, whispering inane and pointless words. All the time, between them was the void where none should have been.

  “Mathiel,” she finally found her voice with the endearment, “that is for criminals, evil Vaerli who must be exiled from the people. Why would you do such a terrible thing?”