Jael crept away from the puddle of vomit and sat down again, shivering. It had been a long time since her uncontrolled, intermittent beast-speaking sensitivity had caught her unaware in the market, but then she always took good care to stay away from slaughterhouses, poultry pens, and the like when she left the palace. Since Jael’s childhood, it had been a firm rule that no animals could be slaughtered or even kicked on palace grounds lest Jael take another of her “fits.” Jael would gladly have given the last drop of her elven blood to be rid of her miserable remnant of beast-speaking ability—often she could sense animals’ sensations, especially strong pain or death, but she had no control over what she felt; she couldn’t stop feeling those pains, nor could she truly sense the thoughts of animals, or communicate her own thoughts to them as true elven beast-speakers could.
Tanis appeared, ginning widely as he held up the black boots.
“Not a bit of trouble,” he said proudly. “As neat a job as ever I’ve—” Then he stopped, his grin fading as he noticed Jael’s pale face and shaking hands. “What’s happened? Are you all right?”
“Uh-huh.” Jael stood a little awkwardly, taking a deep breath to force herself to stop shaking. “Let’s go back now, Tanis. Right now. All right?”
“All right.” Tanis hurriedly stuffed the boots into the bundle of his clothes and slid one arm around Jael’s waist, guiding her quickly through the worst of the crowd. “What happened? Did somebody hurt you?”
“Not me,” Jael mumbled. “Just a chicken.”
“Oh. Oh!” Tanis raised one eyebrow in realization. “Sorry, Jael. I shouldn’t have left you alone there without checking around. I was just thinking about our journey, how comfortable those boots would be on your feet.” He hesitated. “Jael, are you going to be all right? I mean, traveling with merchant trains, somebody whips a horse or shoots a deer for supper—”
Jael shrugged. She’d given that problem some thought herself.
“What else can I do?” she said quietly. “It’d be no better if we were on our own, with you having to hunt every meal. And if I don’t go, I might be this way forever. Anyway, it doesn’t happen all that often.”
Tanis nodded silently. There was really no reply he could make. He quickly changed the subject, and they talked of trivial matters during their walk back to the palace.
They were cheered, however, to find how the twins had passed the time since they’d left. Jael and Tanis had hardly been out the front gates before the twins had made their way to the cellars—a somewhat risky endeavor, as preparations for supper were already underway and servants would be in and out of the cellars fetching foodstuffs and wine. However, it was as likely as not that the High Lord and Lady would spend the evening entertaining some dignitary. If that were so, the servants would be up late, and the increased risk of discovery would continue far into the evening. Markus and Mera’s team strategy had proved invaluable, for whispered warnings from Markus had sent Mera scurrying behind boxes and barrels five times before filling the bags, waxed skins, and jars Jael had gathered for their supplies. In the end, Markus and Mera had not dared to attempt carrying up the bulging parcels, but hid them as best they could in one of the less-used storage rooms. By the time they had finished their task, Jael and Tanis had returned, and the four had barely time to reach the dining hall before supper.
Fortunately, even Jael’s imminent departure from Allanmere had not changed the laws of politics—Donya and Argent would have doubtless preferred to spend supper giving Jael and Tanis another round of instructions and warnings, but representatives from several of the border elven clans had appeared during afternoon audiences to present grievances about increased poaching.
Elven hospitality customs demanded that Donya and Argent invite them to sup at the palace, but no custom forbade the elves from using the opportunity to press their arguments for more stringent punishments to be applied to poachers caught by the City Guard returning from the forest. It was a complicated issue, and the arguments kept Donya and Argent conveniently distracted.
Shadow was nowhere in sight; she hated political discussions, and likely had gone off to prowl the taverns instead. Jael was sorry she would likely not see Shadow again before she left, but in a way she was also relieved; the canny elf was so sharp-eyed that she might have noticed how unusually well behaved the twins were, fairly brimming with their secret, or seen the nervousness that Jael could not help but feel.
Jael and Tanis stuffed themselves—who knew when they’d eat like this again?—and Jael remembered to mix the potion Argent had made for her with the juice she drank instead of wine at supper. It gave her juice an odd, musky taste, but midway through supper the constant running of her eyes and nose stopped as if by magic. Now Jael almost regretted their precipitous departure; it meant she wouldn’t be able to get a further supply of the wonderful potion for her journey.
Tanis had been given a room near that of the twins—Jael found it rather amusing that although she’d be spending the next months alone with Tanis, her parents had given him a room well away from Jael’s—and he promised that he’d wake Markus and Mera a few hours before dawn. Jael privately wagered that they’d wake him; the twins were obviously far too excited to sleep.
Jael found that sleep similarly eluded her. She poked restlessly through the bag of clothing and other necessities that she’d packed. Suddenly they all seemed so unnecessary. How could she have a proper grand adventure when they were carrying along half the contents of the palace? How much more interesting to take only a few necessities: her strange and wonderful sword, the one her father—no, that Farryn—had given Donya, and Donya had given her, and of course also the wonderfully sharp Kresh dagger Aunt Shadow had given her, her Bluebright, a change of clothes, and a bedroll. Taking along so many supplies seemed almost like cheating.
On an impulse, Jael emptied her jewelry box into her lap.
They’d have to leave without the purse Donya and Argent would have given them; at least they could sell the jewelry. She poked a little disgustedly at the intricate silver jewelry, set with the odd red-purple stones, that Urien had given her. The jewels were an unpleasant reminder of the intimate suppers she’d had with him, the picnic by the streambank where she’d confided in the charming schemer, the evening at his house when she’d nearly given her body to him, the horrible ceremony at the Temple of Baaros where his Greater Darkling master had nearly consumed her soul. The jewels seemed sinister now. She’d be glad to be rid of the things. But like the rest of her jewelry, the bracelet, pendant, and earrings were expensive stuff. They’d be remarked upon by any merchant who bought them. Selling such obviously valuable jewelry might well make Jael and Tanis a target for thieves who would willingly kill them for what other treasures they might be carrying. Jael reluctantly placed her jewelry back into its box. She’d have to depend on Tanis to steal whatever coin they’d need.
She curled up in her favorite nook by the window, thinking perhaps she’d drowse for a few moments, but to her surprise she found Tanis shaking her awake, the twins peering in from the doorway.
“Are you certain you still want to do this?” Tanis asked gently. “We don’t have to. We could still wait another day and leave as planned.”
“And go through all those goodbyes and last-minute do’s and don’t’s?” Jael retorted. “Grab that pack and let’s go. Quick.”
Markus and Mera took Tanis’s and Jael’s packs, carrying them out to the stables and making sure no guards were in the area while Jael and Tanis fetched the rest of the supplies from the cellar. With some difficulty, Jael and Tanis managed to wrestle the heavy sacks across the courtyard to the stables, where, to Jael’s impatience, Tanis insisted on checking through everything one last time. At last the horses were loaded and ready—the two that Jael and Tanis would ride, and one pack horse—and the twins were so impatient that they nearly pushed the travelers and their mounts out of the stable.
This led to the more difficult problem—getting the horse
s across the moonlit grounds without the wall guard seeing them. Once again the twins proved their usefulness, Markus creeping around through the bushes near another part of the wall and rustling them to distract the guards while Mera kept watch for Tanis and Jael, motioning them from one group of trees and bushes to the next when they could progress without being observed. At last they reached the hidden door, where Markus, beaming with pride at their maneuver’s success, joined them.
“You better never tell Mother and Father we helped you sneak away,” Mera warned Jael.
“Even if you don’t starve in the Heartwood or get eaten by a bear and never come back,” Markus added practically. “If you do, we’ll tell Mother and Father that you told us about the Heir-ship, and they’ll know you’ve been listening to them when you weren’t supposed to.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell them,” Jael said wryly. “Even if I somehow manage to come back alive. Now I’ve got to go while the guards are still at the other side, or they’ll see us riding away from the wall.”
“Give Mist a hug for us,” Mera told her sternly.
The twins scurried back into the bushes, but Markus turned back at the last moment.
“Jaellyn, why are you taking the ferry?” he asked curiously. “The edge of the Heartwood’s only a short ride straight west.”
“We wanted to surprise Mist,” Jael said quickly. “So we’re going around to the south side of the forest instead of the west. And if we travel on this side of the Brightwater, the elves will see us coming so long before we get there that they’ll have time to send a message to Mist in Inner Heart.”
Markus accepted that and disappeared into the bushes with Mera. Jael and Tanis mounted their horses, Jael leading the pack horse, and they rode away from the wall as quickly as the trail, too near the marshy edge of the Dim Reaches and too seldom used to be in good condition, would allow.
Once away from the city, Tanis and Jael hurried; paying the ferry to take them across the Brightwater before dawn, before people began coming into the city from the southern farms, would be more expensive, but would lessen the chance that someone would recognize Jael.
They reached the river before dawn, although the sky was beginning to lighten slightly to the east. Perhaps because of the early hour, there were only two cloaked ferrymen waiting at the Brightwater. Jael stepped up to the nearer of the two, coins in hand, but froze as the figure turned toward her. Even in the dying moonlight, Jael’s elven vision revealed the unbelievable—that the dark-cloaked man’s face was as black as if carved from onyx, even his eyes unreflective pools of darkness.
Jael froze as she stood with her hand outstretched, cursing herself for a fool. For comfort while riding, she’d stupidly buckled her sword in its scabbard to her saddle. She’d be dead before she reached it. Carefully, Jael inched her free hand toward the Kresh dagger at her hip. Likely that strange, sharp blade could kill even this impossible creature.
A black-gloved hand seized her wrist, halting its progress, and a familiar pale face peered out of the second figure’s hood.
“We have no need of your coin, High Lady’s daughter. But there is indeed business to be discussed between us.”
Jael immediately released the hilt of her dagger, and Tanis, who had leaped from his horse with sword half-drawn, froze motionless. While it was arguably possible that Blade, the most renowned assassin in Allanmere, could be harmed by mortal steel, there was not the faintest doubt in Jael’s mind that she or Tanis would be dead—or likely worse than dead—before either of their weapons was drawn. Jael could only pray to whatever gods might be listening that Blade’s “business” had not been transacted with one of the citizens of Allanmere who would gladly pay well to see Jael disappear permanently.
“Bring your friend and your horses aboard the ferry,” Blade said, her fathomless black eyes on Jael’s, not releasing Jael’s wrist. “We will speak while we cross the river.”
Jael nodded to Tanis; there was nothing else she could do. Tanis slowly led the horses onto the ferry. The black-skinned man released the mooring and stood by the huge rear oar, handling the ferry with amazing ease.
As soon as the ferry launched, Blade released Jael’s wrist and turned away as if unconcerned with any move to escape or attack that Jael or Tanis might make. Jael imagined she was unconcerned; there probably was indeed nothing Jael or Tanis could do before Blade and her silent companion could kill them both. Jael felt cautiously relieved, however; if Blade had wanted either of them dead, they would doubtless be dead by now.
“Come, Lady Jaellyn,” Blade said without turning around. “You stink of fear. Have you forgotten that you owe me a certain debt, or were you in fact fleeing payment?”
A flood of relief, followed quickly by consternation, almost dizzied Jael. True, more than a year ago Shadow had taken Jael to Blade, an “expert on souls,” to learn why Jael’s very presence seemed to make magic go awry, why Jael’s body seemed forever frozen in childhood. True, Jael had promised Blade a future favor in exchange for her help, and true, Blade had diagnosed the missing portion of Jael’s soul, the legacy of her true father’s Kresh blood. But even more so now than then, what could Jael offer this strange creature, now that she had not even the possibility of the power of Heirship ahead of her?
“I remember,” Jael said, steadying her voice as best she could. Her fingers went unconsciously to the thin white scar on her left wrist where Blade’s dagger had once drawn blood. “I promised you a favor in return for what you told me, as long as that favor didn’t harm my family or friends, or break the laws of Allanmere. And I wasn’t trying to dodge keeping that promise.”
“Then you are wiser than rumor would have it,” Blade murmured. “But no matter. Your journey is westward, is it not?”
“Yes,” Jael said warily. She didn’t like the fact that Blade had known she was leaving at all. How could she have heard anything of Jael’s destination, much less when Jael was leaving and what road she’d take? And who was Blade’s silent black-skinned companion?
“Then it is time for you to pay the debt you owe,” Blade said. She turned again to face Jael with those disconcerting eyes, and Jael shivered. “It is known to me that some decades past a mage named Duranar journeyed west, taking with him a certain book, the Book of Whispering Serpents, a book speaking of demons and their binding. It is said that he died in the west and that the book passed into unknown hands. I very much desire to possess this book.”
“ ‘West’?” Tanis repeated, speaking for the first time. “How could we ever find this book, even if the person owning it issued proclamations announcing the fact, with only ‘west’ to go by?”
“You have planned your own journey on little more,” Blade said icily. “There will be rumors. Only a mighty mage would hold the Book of Whispering Serpents. If you should happen upon the book, fetch it back to me. If not, at least you may hear word of what has befallen it. Perhaps such knowledge will satisfy me; perhaps not. But that is the payment I demand of you, High Lady’s daughter. The book is large”—Blade held her hands apart, indicating—”with a leather cover, with silver serpents entwined on the spine.”
Tanis looked inclined to protest, but Jael spoke quickly.
“All right,” she said. “I’ll do the best I can to bring you the book, or at least bring you whatever knowledge of it I can. But only if you’ll swear to me that by giving you this book I won’t be bringing harm to my friends or family, or breaking the laws of Allanmere. We don’t need anyone raising demons here—” She bit down before she could say “again.”
Blade’s eyes narrowed ominously; but, surprisingly, she gave a short laugh.
“There is likely only one other in all the lands who would ask, or accept, an oath of me, High Lady’s daughter,” she said wryly. “Now I see why she was bold enough to bring you to me. Very well, Lady Jaellyn, you have my word. In fact, if this book contains the information I seek, by giving it to me you may well rid Allanmere of its much-dreaded and infamous
assassin. Does that satisfy you?”
“Yes, it does,” Jael said, relieved, holding out her hand.
Blade ignored the proffered hand and turned away, moving to stand by the black-skinned man as the ferry approached the opposite shore of the Brightwater. She glanced back over her shoulder at Jael.
“Unless I am much mistaken, you are expected,” she said.
Jael peered in the direction indicated by the pointing black-gloved finger, and her heart sank. Despite the morning river mist cloaking the shore, there was no mistaking the slight elven figure standing beside a pony, tossing a dagger from hand to hand impatiently as the ferry landed.
“Wine, anyone?” Shadow asked brightly.
Jael stepped disgustedly from the ferry, leading her horse after her. Tanis, equally silent, coaxed the other two horses after her. For a moment, Shadow and Blade gazed at each other, expressions inscrutable. At last, the corner of Blade’s mouth twitched up in the barest suggestion of a smile, and Shadow dipped her head briefly in acknowledgment. Blade turned back to her silent companion, and the ferry began its slow journey back to the north shore of the Brightwater.
“I know you didn’t follow us, unless you can ride over water,” Tanis said exasperatedly to Shadow. “How did you manage to get here before us?”
“I didn’t have to ride the long way around the edge of the forest,” Shadow said mildly. “I simply rode through the Noble District and took the west ferry at the Docks. Much shorter.”
“I’d have bet my sword that nobody saw us leaving,” Jael said, sighing. “What did you do, camp in the stables to watch the horses?”
Dagger's Point (Shadow series) Page 4