Laras drew himself up to his full height, towering over Marta. "Not understand? It's you who do not understand. I'm a messenger, girl. A servant, and if things are left to their normal course that's all I'll ever be. Yet I see the ability to shape the world all around me. I've seen what it can do. Political power. Magic. The King gains his power from his birth, your mother from her knowledge. I can't change my birth, but I can learn. I will learn, and I need that book. I knew your mother would be away and I made my choice."
"You need to make a different choice. You need to learn. There are many fine things in a book but what you want to know isn't there."
"Girl--"
"Marta."
"Marta, I'm not a fool, so don't play me for one. If magic was a simple matter you'd have turned me into some small crawling thing and stepped on me out in the orchard."
"That's not the way it works," Marta said.
Laras fingered his dagger. "Very well, then. Tell me how it works, and then I won't believe you and we can proceed without wasting any more time on your nonsense."
"What you're really seeking are the Seven Laws of Power. They are the beginning of mastery; once you have those there's no need for a book, except an accounts ledger. That's what my mother has, as I told you."
"An accounts ledger? Pray, how does one work magic with a tally book?"
Marta glared at him. "You don't, of course. What you do is keep track of what you are owed. Magic costs. When you work magic on behalf of someone else, that person owes a debt. Debts are very powerful; for all I know that's one of the Seven Laws. I-I don't understand it fully myself, but I've seen how it works. If someone comes to my mother for help, she gives it. But the service must be paid for, even if it is a dear friend. Even if it is a king. If the price is beyond their ability to pay, my mother takes payment in kind."
Laras shook his head. "It all sounds very practical; there's something appealing in that. Yet what has that got to do with turning men into animals?"
"Everything," Marta said. "My mother accepts service where it's needed most. Bone Tapper is a crow because mother's eyes are weak and she needs someone to see for her. What better than eyes with wings? Then there's her cart horse—"
"Enough! Are you saying that it is only the debt that gives her the power to transform?"
"She has to have permission, in a way, from the person transformed. The debt gives that assent. I'd tell you how that links to the Seven Laws but I am not my mother and there's much I do not yet understand. You may believe me or not, but I'm telling you the truth."
Laras just looked at her for several long moments. He finally sighed, deeply. "I believe you."
Now it was Marta's turn to stare. "You do?"
Laras looked at her pityingly. "Of course I do! Even the King's finest bard couldn't have made up such a ridiculously unlikely tale on the spur of the moment. You're certainly not that clever. Damn."
"I'm sorry, Laras." To her own surprise, Marta realized she did mean it. She understood what it was to be disappointed.
"As am I." Laras didn't release his grip on her arm. If anything it was tighter than before.
Marta read his intention. There was a hollow, sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. "You intend to kill me, don't you?"
"Yes."
Marta struggled to keep her voice calm, if nothing else. "May I ask why? I'd have given you what you wanted if it was mine to give. If it existed. Would you have killed me then?"
Laras looked insulted. "I'm not a monster, Marta, whatever you think of me. If I had the books I could have fled far away. Perhaps taken a job in a stable or something, at least long enough to learn what I needed to know to guard against your mother's revenge. What choice do I have now? A king's messenger is not so grand a thing, but it's far more than I had. If I lose it I lose everything, yet if I stay now...well, we both know what would happen."
"Suppose I don't tell her about you?"
"Suppose I believed you there, too? I'm not such a fool as that, Marta. I knew what a risk I took coming here. I'm not going to take another for no gain. If it helps, tally that in your book."
Marta's mind raced. "Wait...there is no book. That doesn't mean there is no power."
"Don't waste what little breath you have left, Marta. We both know you'd say anything to save your life."
"Of course I would. Even the truth. The Seven Laws of Power."
Laras hesitated. Then, reluctantly, he spoke again. "I'm listening."
"The Seven Laws of Power will give you what you want, and their nature is that, once you learn the first, the others will come. For all I know it's the only way witches and sorcerers gain their power. I just started what my mother calls ‘the Arrow Path’ yesterday, but I know where to go to find the First Law. If you have that you can start over anywhere, and it won't matter if I tell tales on you."
"So why haven't you done so already?"
Marta looked grim. "Because my mother told me to harvest the apples first. You don't argue with Black Kath of Lythos, even if you're her daughter. Maybe especially if you're her daughter."
Laras frowned. "Not to rain on the flame or anything, but how do you know I won't kill you anyway? That way I'd have the First Law and the leisure of my position to find the rest."
"You said you weren't a monster, and only you know if you're telling the truth. I have to gamble that you are."
Laras smiled then. "Lead on."
For all his jovial appearance, Laras wasn't taking any chances. He took a length of stout rope from his saddle and tied it securely around Marta's waist, knotting it at her back so it would be difficult for her to reach. Marta felt like a dog on a leash.
Laras put one more loop on the final knot. "How far is this cave you're talking about?"
"About a mile. Well concealed, though," Marta added hastily. "You'll never find it without me."
"Assuming I'm willing to tramp these woods for days looking? Not likely. Let's go."
Marta knew that Laras didn't entirely believe her, yet his need forced him to take the chance. And it wasn't entirely a lie. Black Kath had discovered the First Law of Power in that very cave, or so she had said. Yet Marta had been to the cave herself many times looking for the First Law, ever since she was old enough to know that the Seven Laws existed. If the First Law was to be found there so far Marta had entirely failed to do so. This would be her last chance.
What reason do I have to think this time will be different?
ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS DECIDE.
Black Kath's voice. A memory from the day before. Marta felt the pendant representing the Arrow Path next to her skin. She'd almost forgotten about it.
I have decided, Mother. I hope that's enough.
Marta made and discarded a dozen wild schemes as they walked, Laras over a score paces behind her, she leading the way at the end of his taut leash. Laras was half a head taller than she was and twice as heavy; she couldn't overpower him and, with the rope tied around her, she couldn't run. Marta reached behind her, touched the knot. Laras pulled once on the rope, jerking Marta painfully.
"Don't," he said.
Marta didn't know why she'd done it in the first place. She knew she couldn't untie it with him watching her. For that matter, Marta wasn't sure she could untie it at all. And yet why, for just a moment, had she seen an image of the ropes parting easily, almost as if cut?
For that matter, how did I know that apple was going to fall, and that branch to break?
Perhaps she was imagining about the rope, but she was sure that wasn't the case for either of the other two. She was as sure of both as she was of her own name. It was important, and no mistake. But what did it mean? She looked for the pattern as she walked, all the while not even certain if there was one to be found, or if it would matter if there was. They would be at the cave soon, and when Laras didn't find what he was looking for, he would kill her and that would be that. Laras' fear would make him into a monster after all.
"Apples ripen and fall. It's
their nature," she said aloud.
Laras frowned. "What?"
Marta ignored him. There was no time. She was on the trail of something, perhaps something important. "So do apple branches, eventually. All living things grow old, lose their strength, grow weak..."
"True enough," Laras said. "Your point is?"
Marta didn't know. She found what seemed an insurmountable obstacle, like a rock fall blocking her path. Something that didn't seem to fit. "Ropes aren't living things."
Laras sighed deeply. "Marta, I'll thank you not to go mad with fear before we reach the cave."
Marta wasn't mad or even, at the moment, afraid. Her thoughts proceeded with the clarity of well polished crystal. Ropes were not alive and yet they still aged, grew weak, developed imperfections. Eventually a rope would fail, even though that was not what it was designed to do.
"Strength always yields to time..."
Laras just shook his head in disgust, but Marta wasn't looking at him. It was as if he no longer mattered. She could think only of what she had just said, knowing it was true enough but also knowing that it wasn't the answer. Close. Very close, like a name known in childhood or the words to a song she could almost but not quite recall.
Time was the problem. Or rather, it wasn't the answer. Something else was, a word she had spoken but now couldn't name. "It isn't Time," she said, finally.
"I disagree," Laras said. "This would appear to be your cave."
Marta had been so deep in her own thoughts that she'd quite forgotten about the cave, though apparently she had led Laras straight to it. It was nestled in the bottom of a high, wooded hill, looking no more than a darker patch of shadow until one was quite close. The opening was no more than five feet across, though it widened considerably further in. No stream flowed from it; this was merely a break in the rocks where part of the roof had reached close enough to the surface for a small cave in to create an opening.
Laras surveyed that opening with satisfaction. "Well, at least I know you were telling the truth to this point. Now you will show me where the First Law of Power can be found and you'd better not be lying about that."
"Of-of course," Marta said, and tried to sound like she meant it.
Yet she didn't. Marta was lying. She didn't know where the First Law of Power was, or what it was. Just because her mother had found the First Law here didn't mean that Marta would; she knew enough to know that it just didn't work that way. She was close to it; she felt it. She could almost taste it, but still she could not name it.
Damn, I'm out of time.
Marta already knew that time wasn't the answer. Time destroyed power? Yes...and no. Apples fell. Branches broke. Ropes rotted. Power ended. Was it just time? Did time alter the sun, wear down the seasons? Perhaps, but she knew the answer was not time...necessarily. What was it? Marta walked very slowly toward the entrance, with Laras following at rope's length. She put up her hand to brace against the stone so she could peer into the gloom. Neither of them had thought to bring a torch.
What is this?
The stone. Marta touched the stone, and she knew something about it, something she couldn't see before then. Just like the apple, and the branch of the apple tree.
"What are you waiting for?" Laras demanded. "Go on!"
"If I go first, I might find the First Law before you do. In fact, I will."
Laras looked at her intently. "Are you saying I should kill you now? You are mad."
"Not at all. If you kill me, likely you won't find it at all. It's hidden in a place not so easy to see."
That part, at least, was no less than truth.
Laras hesitated. "We seem to be at an impasse."
"May I make a suggestion?"
Laras didn't bother to hide his suspicion. "You're being much too co operative."
"Am I? If, as you say, you're no monster, then you'll let me go once you find the First Law, the one that will, in time, unlock all the others. I want you to find that bloody Law as much as you do."
"Well..."
Perhaps he was going to confess what Marta already knew, that she was dead either way. There was a certain annoying honesty in his character that might push him to it, but Marta didn't give him the chance. Better the pretense than the truth, when the pretense kept her alive. "Hobble me," she said. You have enough rope. Even if I could untie the knot around my waist I couldn't get loose from the hobble too. Not before you catch me. That way you can enter first without worry about me getting away, and I can direct you."
Marta gambled that Laras' need was stronger than his suspicion, and this time she was right. Laras shortened his leash by a few feet and then cut off the extra. Marta eyed the change.
Close...but it might be enough.
"Stand still."
Marta obeyed, and Laras tied one end of the hobble to her left ankle and then the other to her right. "Now, then. Show me which way to go."
"Inside, of course. The passage will go left and right. Go toward the right."
"Very well, follow me."
"I don't have a lot of choice, Laras."
He laughed then. It was a hollow sound. There was neither mirth nor cruelty in it. Marta fancied she saw a little of what drove Laras then, and what might have could have been different for him. For both of them.
Your need drives you to become something you are not. With a better choice that could have served you well.
"We don't have a torch," Laras said, it apparently just having occurred to him that they might need one.
"It's not so very far from the entrance," Marta said quickly. "There's enough light to see."
Laras frowned but kept walking, and bent over to enter the cave. Marta approached the entrance again, pulled by Laras's rope as he worked his way deeper underground. Marta reached out, slowly, praying her hand would find the place she knew must be there, that she would feel, would know, what she needed to know.
There.
Something amiss in the rocks. A potential that would take but the slightest push to manifest to great affect.
"The rock looks very strong here, held in place by forces greater than a hundred men. But it isn't strong," she said, too softly for Laras to hear this time. "It's weak."
The feeling was sudden and powerful, more so even than before. It was the word. Not Time. Weak. Weakness. The rock would not hold. Would not? Could not, for anyone who knew the secret. Marta took a deep breath and struck one stone above the entrance, just the one. In a moment, the hill rumbled. Marta threw herself backward against the rope as several massive blocks of limestone fell from the roof of the cave at the entrance. The first one just missed her as she struggled against the rope. The next cut the rope cleanly in two as it smashed against the first and Marta went sprawling and fell, hard on her back. The roar and rumbling continued for several long moments as she struggled to regain the breath that had been knocked out of her and to untie the hobble. When Marta rose again all was silence. She leaned close to the mass of rubble blocking the entrance to the cave.
"Laras?"
"Damn you!"
The reply was muffled but unmistakable. Laras yet lived. Marta felt some relief at that, but for the moment she couldn't say why. He had been going to kill her; there was no question of that. By all rights she should wish him dead, but she did not.
She shouted to be heard through the blockage. "Are you all right?"
"Oh, well enough," he said. Then, "Of course I'm not all right! I'm trapped!"
Marta smiled then. Laras was unhurt. If he'd died in the rock fall then, well, so be it. Since he wasn't dead, then undamaged was better. It would make things simpler. "Shall I get you out? I can do it," Marta said, and knew she spoke the truth.
Muffled laughter. "Now, how could I persuade you do to that?"
"I would do it freely, Laras. But then, you see, you would be in my debt. Remember what I told you about debts?"
Laras made a sound. It might have been a curse, it might have been an expression of pure terror. Marta
was certain it was one or the other.
"Yes, you do understand. How would you like to be a snake? They can crawl out of tight places easily enough. I think you would make a fine snake."
"You're bluffing!"
"Are you sure?" Marta asked, sweetly.
Silence.
He believed her; Marta knew it. Yet she wasn't sure herself if she could do what she threatened. Once the obligation was incurred, could the fulfilment of the obligation be achieved by the rights she acquired under the terms of the Debt itself? Well, why not? Once the mechanism of the Debt was in place—which according to her mother's tally book required only agreement with the terms—then Marta's perogative became means to an end, just as any other. Why not use them to fulfil her end of the bargain? Marta believed this might be possible but, no, she was not certain. Yet Laras didn't know that...
There it is again. That same feeling.
Marta had touched another Law. Not the First Law; she had tucked that one away securely into the fullness of her understanding. She would recognize it from then on, but not as a new thing. Not like this. Yet the meaning that had brought this new recognition eluded her. She'd touched another Law, and recognized it for what it was as the Arrow Path promised. Yet that wasn't enough in itself. She didn't understand. At least, not yet. Marta shook herself, forcing her concentration back to the here and now.
Marta nodded, even though he couldn't see her. "You see we have a problem," she said quickly. "Or rather, you do."
"What are you going to do?" he asked.
"I'm going to take your horse and go find my mother. She will be very interested in all this, I believe."
"The First Law of Power was never here, was it? You lied to me!"
"No, Laras. The First Law is indeed in that cave. If you look for it, you might even find it. Perhaps in time to escape before we get back. I'd advise that, I really would."
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