Black Kath's Daughter

by Richard Parks

  "You'll have to tie it off yourself! The sodding thing will never hold us both."

  Marta took the rope in her stiff cold fingers and pulled the end around her and underneath her armpits. It was slow going, and the knot she managed did inspire much confidence. Marta wrapped the end around her arm as many times as she could managed. "The bed's going under! Pull me up!"

  The rope stretched taut and, bit by bit, Marta pulled off the remains of the bed and out of the water. The cloth creaked and squeaked and protested with every yard gained, but it held. Just as she was sure it was about to snap Bone Tapper's strong hands grabbed her wrists and hauled her out like a bag of flour. Marta could very well have been a bag of flower, for all the help she was able to give him.

  "For a skinny wisp of a girl you're surprisingly heavy," Bone Tapper said.

  Marta lay on the stone, gasping for breath, but she managed to get the words out. "If...through ...about my person, get me a blanket!"

  Grinning, Bone Tapper obeyed.

  "Now turn around!" When Bone Tapper had likewise obeyed that command Marta quickly stripped out of her wet clothes and wrapped herself in the blanket, holding it tight and letting it and the spring sun drive the cold from her at last. It took a while, and to speed up the process Bone Tapper gathered wood and got large campfire going."

  "Won't Laras see it?" Bone Tapper said.

  Marta sat as close to the fire as she could, and leaned closer. "It won't matter if I don't get warm," Marta said, her teeth still chattering. "More than likely he'll just think he set something on fire besides you."

  "I hope that's true. And your concern is touching, by the way."

  "It's hard to be sympathetic when you're drowning! Yet now that I am not... thank you," she said.

  "You're welcome. I don't suppose this settles my debt by any chance?"

  "Settles?" The possibility hadn't even occurred to her. Marta took a moment to consider it, asking the question and waiting for the answer. "No," she said at last. "Yet it's taken a score of years off."

  "I should rescue you more often then," Bone Tapper said, and Marta glared at him.

  "You'll pardon me if I hope that's not necessary." She paused to look Bone Tapper up and down. "Return," she said.

  In a moment Bone Tapper was a raven again.

  He gasped in surprise. "What did you do that for? I was just getting used to being a hob. Not so bad, really. Ten fingers, ten toes...it was almost like being myself again."

  Marta shut her eyes, feeling the sheer luxury of the fire's warmth on her face. "You reminded me too much of Treedle. Besides, I don't need a hob now. I need you to find Laras for me. Stay out of sight if you can, but find him. Go."

  Bone Tapper went. Marta used the time to dress herself from the extra clothes she'd had in her former bundle. She wouldn't be able to carry as much now, but then there was less to carry. Now that the immediate problem was out of the way, the loss of her purse nagged at her a bit. Still...

  Better it than me.

  She would manage. Even that wasn't what worried her most.

  "Exactly what happened here today?" she said aloud.

  "You almost died. Don't you remember?"

  Bone Tapper had returned, flying as silently as an owl to land beside her again.

  "That's not what I meant," Marta said.

  "I know...and Laras is nearly a league north of here, and moving briskly away from us. If he noticed the smoke he made no account of it. Seems to be in a hurry."

  Marta wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and stared at the fire. "Good." Neither said anything for several long moments, and Marta finally looked up again. "What I meant," she said, and more to herself than Bone Tapper, "was that it shouldn't have happened. It makes no sense."

  "Perhaps Laras is just a better magician than you are. That’s why Amaet chose him as her assassin”

  Marta shook her head. "That appears to be true, but even so it's beside the point. Why would Amaet want me killed? I can hardly repay the Debt that way. I don't even have a child of my own to pass it on to."

  "Perhaps she thought being rid of you was worth the loss."

  "If so, why?"

  Bone Tapper shrugged. "I'm just a servant, and not one to move in the circles of power. I don't know."

  "Neither do I. But that's not the worst."

  The raven blinked. "It's not? I'd certainly consider the situation bad enough if a Power was lusting for my blood."

  "Amaet gave Laras the Laws of Power. At least two of them. Perhaps all."

  "Rather unfair of her to play favorites like that."

  Marta shook her head. "You don’t understand--everything Mother taught me, everything I've learned since, all say that this is not possible. The Laws of Power cannot be taught, only learned. They certainly cannot be placed in one's hands as a gift."

  Bone Tapper shrugged again. "Why not? The Arrow Path was created by Amaet, they say."

  Marta nodded. "She created it, but the strictures apply to her too. Or they don't apply at all."

  "You saw what he did," Bone Tapper pointed out. "More to the point, you felt it. He could have crushed you like an insect. It's only luck that you survived."

  "No," Marta said. "It was not luck at all."

  "Well, no," Bone Tapper agreed. "I helped you."

  "Exactly. If he were truly Arrow Path, Laras would have known what you were, and known that he had to destroy you as well else you would have given me aid, which you in fact did. That fact that he only drove you off, and that because you were annoying him, makes no sense either."

  Bone Tapper sighed. "You've swallowed well water instead of air, Mistress. You're weary. Did it occur to you that you're thinking about this too hard? You say all this is impossible, that it makes no sense. Yet it did happen. It is possible, and saying otherwise is what makes no sense."

  "If you're right, then the Arrow Path is a lie, as is everything I know and everything I believed myself and Black Kath of Lythos to be."

  Bone Tapper shrugged. "I have no answer to that, Mistress."

  "Neither do I, but I'm going to find one." Marta gathered up the remnants of her belongings as best she could.

  "Where are we going?" the raven asked.

  "To the Basilisk Shrine," Marta said. "I thought you knew."

  "Knew? Weren't you paying any attention at all? Amaet ordered Laras to place that book in the Archives! That explains why the good brother Akaen didn't know it was there. Somehow she knew you would seek the Basilisk Shrine!"

  "That a person on a quest might follow any lead she might find doesn't take omniscience," Marta said dryly.

  "My point is that this was clearly a trap from the beginning!"

  "I know that." Marta started toward the river.

  The raven flew after her, still arguing. "You know? Then why go on?"

  "Bone Tapper, if Amaet meant me to die here, then she never meant for me to reach the Basilisk Shrine in the first place. Well, I didn't die, so making the trip despite her is reason enough."

  "That's not your reason, is it?"

  "No. I'm going because it still feels right to me. If I can't trust what I know, then I will trust what I feel. I will use what I have."

  "Do you really think you will find a Law of Power there? Or anything except more lies?"

  "The book was real, whatever purpose it served. The Basilisk Shrine is real too, and the virtue of the Basilisk Oracle is this: The First Night, Truth. The Second Night, Lies. The Third Night, Death."

  "I imagine very few people seek the second and fewer still the third of its oracles," Bone Tapper said.

  "The chronicler said more people sought the Third than he would have believed, and in that I tend to trust his word. No matter, I seek only the First. If anyone in this world is owed some truth right now, that person would be me."

  CHAPTER 17

  "A philosopher offered me the Truth once. However it turned out to be his truth, not mine, and thus of no use at all."

  — Tymon t
he Black

  "That is not a temple to Astonei or any other Immortal Power," Bone Tapper said. "That is a hole in the ground."

  They stood at the top of a line of hills, looking down at the valley snaking by below them. Marta was thin, dirty, and weary beyond belief, but they had reached the Basilisk Shrine. They could see it now, a dark maw of a cave at the base of a rocky cliff on the far side of the valley. Silently Marta agreed with Bone Tapper's 'hole in the ground' comment, at least to that point. The Basilisk Shrine was indeed a hole in the ground, whatever else it might be. Marta had developed an active dislike for the deep dark places where the Powers that she knew of tended to manifest. Even the grotto on Mount Karsanmon could have been a hole in the ground, as cold and dark as it tended to be.

  "Are you forgetting our agreement?" was all Marta said, despite that. Her tone was deceptively mild.

  The raven was quick to demure. "I serve you in all things, as my debt to your late mother and thus to you requires. I try to be as pleasant a servant and companion as you could wish. But fear has a way of smothering tact, and I am afraid. I don't like caves."

  Marta nodded, reluctantly. "Me, either. That doesn't change what we're here to do."

  "My confidence knows no bounds," Bone Tapper said, but Marta ignored him.

  They stood just within the shade of the forest, looking out over a large grassy valley and across to where the line of cliffs thrust up abruptly from the grassland. At this distance the temple was just a darker patch near the base of the cliffs and, if Marta did not see as well as the raven, she certainly noticed more. For instance, the broad, beaten path that ran from the far end of the valley floor and up to the cave and the one small figure trudging along toward the entrance, doubtless a supplicant on the main pilgrim trail from Makor to the west. Then there were the faint lines across the top of the cave mouth, recognizable as Westan glyphs even at that distance. Marta remembered several illustrations of them in the Archives, though she had yet to learn to read them. Marta regretted that now; Akaen had offered to teach her but she hadn't thought there was time enough. Perhaps she'd been right, but if she ever got another chance...

  "We'd best be going," was all Marta said.

  "I could stay and keep watch from here," Bone Tapper said, obviously trying to make the suggestion sound like the most sensible thing in the world. Marta wasn't fooled.

  "And do what, if it came to doing? Besides, I may need you. Come on."

  Bone Tapper obediently perched on Marta's thin shoulder, and together they started down toward the pilgrim trail. By the time they reached the path, the figure Marta had seen from the opposite ridge was well past them; it was easily identified now as a vigorous old woman keeping a smart pace along the trail, her staff preceding each step like a herald. Marta quickened her step just enough to close the distance without appearing to hurry.

  "Blessings of the day to you, Good Mother."

  The woman turned back to look at them. Her face was lined by the wear of life and more than a little sun; she pulled off her hood to reveal gray hair still carrying a memory of black. She wore her hair long, and tied back with a red cord. She ventured a faint smile. "And to you, child, though in truth it has been many years since anyone called me mother."

  "Have you come to visit the shrine?"

  "Most certainly, there being precious little else to draw a body's attention hereabouts."

  Marta bowed slightly. "Well struck, well deserved. I had assumed as much and was hoping you could tell me something about the shrine. This is not my country."

  The woman smiled at her. "I had assumed as much. Folk from as far away as Torsa come to worship here, but I think you come from farther still."

  "Just a bit," Marta said, though it was more than a bit of understatement. "Karsan."

  "Far indeed. What do you want to know?" the old woman asked.

  "Does this shrine contain the Oracle of the Basilisk? I've come seeking a divination dream."

  The woman wasn't smiling now. "I would speak that name softly if I were you, child. The Oracle is only consulted at great need, and the price for a Basilisk Dream is high."

  "My need is great," Marta said. "And I will pay whatever I am asked."

  Marta wasn't sure how she was going to pay for anything at the moment; all the gold she'd had with her now lay at the bottom of an ancient cistern at Sendale. After all that she had been through, it still seemed a trivial matter. She would pay, somehow.

  "The price will be a steep one, I assure you. The priestess of Astonei will take great pains to dissuade the curious and the foolish. You might be asked for more than you can give for the privilege of oracle."

  "I see I was fortunate to meet you today, Good Mother. Your knowledge of the priestess's whims seems very intimate." Marta smiled then, and met the old woman's gaze squarely. "Even more than intimate, I dare say." Marta waited.

  The old woman nodded with evident satisfaction. "I can't speak for the quality of your curiosity, but you are certainly no fool. Yes, child—my name is Lornis. For the past forty years I have been Priestess of Astonei, Mistress of the Basilisk Oracle. Well, then. I think we need to speak more. Shall we go?"

  Lornis's quarters were in a room off the main entrance to the cave. It looked like a natural opening that had been refined by a mason's hand into a very comfortable space. There was even a serviceable fireplace carved into the stone of one wall, with a working draft. Lornis brewed tea while Marta sat on one of the priestess' chairs, watching her. Bone Tapper had been given free rein of the quarters with Lornis's permission. He flitted from table to chair to mantel to bed, looking at everything with his cold black eyes. He finally lit on Marta's shoulder.

  "I trust your friend is satisfied for your safety?" Lornis asked, not looking up from her preparations. "What is his name?"

  "Bone Tapper," Marta said.

  Lornis did glance back at her this time. "I meant his real name. He must have had one before he was changed."

  Marta didn't speak. It was Bone Tapper who broke the silence. "Dyras," he said. "As best I can remember." Bone Tapper looked at Marta and shrugged, clearly indicating that he thought denial pointless.

  Marta had to agree, but her heart sank a little. She felt no animosity from the woman, but it was never a good idea to reveal too much at first meeting, even among those who might be friends. Lornis had pierced her mask a little too easily, a little too casually, and with apparent unconcern for what it revealed about herself.

  Whatever power I have, I'm no threat. She clearly knows that. I wish I could be as sure of her.

  "You are an adept, I see," Marta said. "Not Arrow Path, but adept nonetheless."

  "The tea is ready," Lornis said. It wasn't an answer, but then Marta hadn't really asked a question. Lornis served the tea in stoneware mugs. She placed one cup and a bit of cake on the mantel for Bone Tapper, then took her place on a willow-work chair across from Marta. "So tell me, Marta, why have you traveled so far to seek the Basilisk Oracle?"

  Marta thought of her options and decided on the truth. "I'm seeking a Law of Power," she said.

  Lornis nodded. "I suspected as much. Which one?"

  It wasn't idle curiosity, Marta knew. She'd started with the truth, and clearly Lornis wanted all of it. But it went against every instinct Marta had to surrender everything without at least token resistance.

  "Why, the next one," she said. He face was innocence itself given shape and countenance.

  Lornis smiled. "So be it, child. Just be aware that there is an order to Laws, and learning one out of turn can be worse than not learning it at all."

  "My mother said the Laws come in their own time and their own choosing; I think that part is out of my hands in any case."

  "Most likely," Lornis said. "Your mother is a very wise woman."

  Marta looked away. "She was. She died a few months ago." She hadn't mean to say it; a sudden painful memory pushed it out. Marta knew it was a mistake but it was too late. Lornis proved that Marta was right.<
br />
  "Then young as you are she could not have had time enough to teach you more than a fraction of what you need to know," she said, looking thoughtful. "She couldn't even have begun, really, until you'd achieved the First Law."

  Marta felt pinned to her chair by the truth in what Lornis said. She hadn't known that. She'd thought that, perhaps, it all had to be learned alone, with the barest guidance. Black Kath had never even seen Marta after she'd gained the First Law. Marta remembered Laras, and all the power that he had under Amaet's patronage and guidance, all the understanding that she herself clearly did not have. Yes, that explained much. So far as her true understanding went, she could have been an infant.

  "You've achieved at least one Law of Power. Perhaps two...yes, your eyes betray you, child. You seek the Third Law."

  Marta nodded, beaten. "Yes."

  Marta knew that she had lied earlier when she said that she'd sought the next Law of Power, when what she really sought was the truth about the Arrow Path. Yet here Lornis had handed her that truth, it seemed. Marta was untrained, and likely to remain so. No match for Laras when he discovered she lived and came after her again. Somehow Amaet had given him the Laws. It went against all Marta knew, but did that matter? She knew so very little...

  The priestess smiled, echoing her thought so clearly that Marta almost gasped. "You know so little. For one who owes soul-debt to one of the Immortal Powers, that is a serious matter. So. What have you brought for an offering?"

  Marta had wondered how long it would be before they came down to talking terms. She was almost relieved, but now her lack of gold was going to be a problem. "What is customary?" she asked, vying for time to think.

  Lornis shrugged. "A copper or two for the local villagers and the humbler pilgrims. Silver for a scholar, gold for a noble, though both are rare in these parts. You are none of those," she said. "Show me the sign."