Tairus spluttered, his hand dropping to his sword, but Rome stayed him. “Easy,” said softly. “I have this.”
Rome turned back to Perthen.
“What will it be?” said Perthen. “I grow tired of waiting out here listening to peasants.”
“Just so we’re straight,” Rome said. “You would sacrifice everyone, not just your people, but everyone, in order to hold onto your power?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Perthen replied. “That is what you’re doing, not me. I just gave you the same option you gave me.”
“You’ve lost your mind,” Tairus said. Again Rome stayed him.
Perthen came forward a step. There was something in his eyes that did not look quite sane. “The thing that scares you is—” He leaned close and lowered his voice. “—that I am willing to sacrifice them all to keep power. The question is, are you? So I ask you again. Will you submit to me? Hand over your power? Or will you sacrifice it all?”
Rome said nothing, but Tairus could see he was thinking about it. Suddenly he was afraid. Rome valued his men too much. He would hand over power to this madman. But to his vast relief Rome said, “No.”
“Yet this is what you ask me to do! You are a child. You know nothing of what it means to rule. You are no true king, Usurper. What will it be? Will you give in, or will you sacrifice them all?” He sneered at Rome. “You are no ruler. You do not have the balls,” he punctuated this with a gesture, “to do whatever it takes to hold power. That’s how I know you are not a true king. You are only a pretender.”
It was then Tairus noticed that Quyloc had moved off to the side a few steps and was staring at something. But there was nothing there that Tairus could see. What was he doing?
“I will give you one more chance,” Rome said quietly.
“Don’t threaten me!” Perthen snapped, spittle flying from his mouth. “I have a hundred men who will fall on you like that if I give the order. I could have you killed right now.”
Rome ignored the threat. “I was not threatening you. I was only trying to avoid trouble. Join me. Just for this. Once the battle is over your army, your rule, is yours once again. I will depart this place and go back to Qarath. You will have lost nothing.”
“Of course you would,” Perthen said. “Because you are the great and good Wulf Rome, a king who keeps his word. And I am a trusting idiot.” He crossed his arms. “You know my terms. Submit to me. Or fight. Your choice.”
Tairus saw Rome glance at Quyloc, who was holding the spear at a downward angle, and give him the merest nod. Then Rome looked back at Perthen. “Have it your way, then.”
Quyloc made a quick, short slash at nothing.
“It will be my—” Perthen started, then broke off. His face went pale and his eyes bulged. His knees buckled and he fought to stay upright. A soldier stepped forward and took his elbow but he shook the man off.
“What did you do?” he choked. His face had turned gray and he swayed. He stared wildly around him and his eyes fell on the FirstMother. “Was it you, Tender witch?” But she was not looking at him. She was staring at Quyloc.
Perthen fell to his knees with a groan. His men hurried forward and lifted him between them.
“One more chance,” Rome said. “The next will be worse. You may not survive.”
The man who looked up at Rome was a different man. Fear filled his eyes and all at once Tairus knew he was beaten. He looked shrunken, old. “You…you win,” he gasped. “I…submit.”
“It is a wise decision,” Rome said.
The block of men withdrew to the city and Rome looked at Tairus. “I told you diplomacy would work. You just needed to have a little faith.”
“What did you do to him?” Tairus asked Quyloc.
“I convinced him he was wrong,” Quyloc replied.
As they were riding back to rejoin the army, Nalene rode up next to Quyloc. He was just rewrapping the spear in its leather cover.
“What did you do to him?” She sounded frightened, which surprised him.
“Didn’t you see?”
She swallowed and nodded. “But how is such a thing possible? What is that thing?”
“It is a rendspear.”
“Where did you get it?”
“In a place Lowellin showed me, a place called the Pente Akka.”
“I’ve never heard of this place.”
“I often wish I hadn’t,” Quyloc said, thinking of all he’d been through.
“Where is this place?”
“I don’t really know. I don’t actually go there in my body.”
She gave him a startled look. “You know how to spirit-walk?”
“Not in the sense you are thinking. I only know how to go to this one place, a borderland between our world and the Pente Akka.” As he said this though, he began to wonder. Could he go other places?
“And while there you just found this weapon?”
Quyloc gave her a grim smile. “If only it were that easy. I killed something very large and from one of its teeth I made the spear.”
She was looking at him suspiciously now. “If I had not seen what you just did I would call you a liar.”
“If I hadn’t been through all I’ve been through, I’d call me a liar too,” he said wearily. “Even now I doubt much of it.”
“How will such a weapon help us against Melekath? He will not have a flow you can cut.”
“I don’t know for sure.” He thought of what he had learned about Shapers and the power within the three Spheres of Stone, Sea, and Sky. Lowellin had said that the Pente Akka was anathema not just to LifeSong, but to the power within the Spheres as well. “But I think if I stick him with it, he won’t like it.”
Lowellin stood in Ilsith’s shadow and watched as Rome faced off against Perthen. No one saw him. Nor would they, if he did not choose.
“They are both very interesting,” a voice said.
Lowellin turned and regarded the small man who stood there, hands folded neatly over his stomach, his long coat as clean and neatly brushed as ever, the silver buttons well-polished.
“How did you find me here?”
T’sim shrugged. “Shadows do not mean much to the wind.”
“Why are you here? What is it you want?”
“I don’t know,” T’sim admitted. “But it has been missing for a very long time.”
They watched as Quyloc slashed a flow of Song like cutting the strings on a puppet. Lowellin turned on the small man, suddenly angry.
“Where did he learn how to do that?”
T’sim shrugged. “He is a very resourceful man.”
“I warned you not to interfere.”
“But this is as you wished, is it not? For a human to carry a rendspear against Melekath? What good if he does not know how to use it?” A small look of surprise crossed his face. “You did not know the weapon could do that, did you? That is what angers you.”
“It is…unexpected,” Lowellin grudgingly admitted. “How did you know?”
“I only guessed. I was not sure.”
“Why did you tell him? I thought the aranti did not take sides.”
“We don’t. He was frightened. I only wanted to help.”
“You’ve actually started to care about them?”
T’sim blinked. “Perhaps. I am not certain I know what this means. But I am pleased he did not kill himself as he thought to do.”
“You’ve been among them too long.”
“Perhaps. Yet you spent longer among them than I have, and it has not affected you. Why is that?”
“They irritate me.”
“Oh, I see. You hate them for their place in Xochitl’s affections.”
“I cannot hate something so inconsequential. They are simply nothing to me.”
“I did not realize you were given to self-delusion.”
Lowellin scowled at T’sim. He moved closer and jabbed the small man in the chest with his finger. “Be careful you do not anger me.”
“The
longevity of your wrath is well known.” T’sim did not seem upset by Lowellin’s threat. “Have you still not found Xochitl’s location?” When Lowellin did not reply he continued, “All this is for her. What good if she does not witness it?”
“Why don’t you go somewhere else? Bring Rome a beer or something.”
“He does not need me right now. I have time.”
“I tire of you.”
“I tire of everything. But this interests me. The humans can go to the place we cannot. There is some depth to them I never suspected. They each carry a shadow of themselves, like a dream of one’s own self. Without substance, requiring no flow to sustain it, that shadow self can enter the Pente Akka. How clever of you to figure this out. But you were always the clever one, the great Lowellin.”
Lowellin ignored him.
“How many did you send there who never returned, I wonder? What is different about Quyloc? What will happen if you cannot control him?”
“You know far less then you think.”
“Probably. But I have time. I have no plans so I can see clearly. Unlike you.” The little man stroked the buttons on his jacket. “I wonder: What will you do if the fight with Kasai goes ill? You have only one army. Poor strategy to lose it, with no time to find another.”
“Why don’t you go plague the king?”
“He doesn’t need me right now. When he does, I’ll be there,” T’sim said placidly.
Forty
“This really hurts,” Gelbert complained. “Can you look at it again?”
“I just looked at it, Gelbert,” Bonnie replied. “Not five minutes ago. It’s the same.”
“Just look at it. It feels worse,” the big man moaned.
Bonnie was sitting at one of the tables in the tavern, drinking a cup of tea and enjoying the quiet. The first regulars wouldn’t wander in for an hour or so and with the shutters open and the sun coming in the windows the tavern wasn’t a bad place to be.
“Can’t it wait?” Bonnie asked, but it was too late; he was already pulling up his shirt. What she saw made her drop her cup of tea. It hit the table with a loud thunk, then rolled and fell to the floor.
“What’s that?” Gelbert asked, twisting to look behind him. “You’re breaking my mugs! You’ll pay for that.”
“Sure, Gelbert. I’ll pay,” Bonnie said quietly.
“What’s it look like? Is it bad?” Gelbert cried, still trying to look at his own back.
“It’s fine, Gelbert. Just a little worse.” It was hard to keep her voice steady. There were streaks of black spreading out around the edges of the bandage. She began to unwrap the bandage. This morning Gelbert was wiping tables when a spider dropped down on him from the ceiling and bit him on the back. That was only a few hours ago. Then the odor hit her and she stiffened. She knew that smell. The rot was setting in. But how could it be? It was too fast.
The answer was that anything could happen these days. Everyone knew that. There was crazy in the air. People were cracking. Just last night old Tern, a patron of the Grinning Pig for years now, had stood up from his chair, started screaming bloody murder, then stabbed himself. Right in the heart. He was dead before he hit the floor.
Bonnie knew she should seriously consider taking Rome up on his offer to move into the palace. A body just wasn’t safe down here anymore. But she also knew that she wasn’t running, not yet. Rough and crude and disgusting these people might be, but they were the closest thing she had to family. Not the patrons of the tavern, many of whom would rob or rape or kill her if they had a chance. But the people who worked at the tavern. The two door guards, Arls and Terk. There was Tomy, the kid who worked as a gofer, the barmaids, kitchen help, the other whores. They fought, schemed, argued, made up, got drunk and cried on each other’s shoulders. In short, they were a family. She couldn’t just leave them here. It wouldn’t feel right.
She touched her stomach softly. Course, there was another coming, who was also family, and closer than all of them. She had to think about her. Or him. Though she thought of the baby as a her, it could be a him.
Gelbert gave an odd little cry. “It’s bad, ain’t it? I knew it was gonna be the end of me.”
“No, Gelbert. You’re not going to die.” It was hard to look at the wound, the flesh turned green and black, dark fluid leaking from it. The skin was beginning to slough off around the edges.
“I knew that healer was a hack,” Gelbert moaned, dropping suddenly into a chair as if all his muscles had given out at once. “He had that look about him. Didn’t charge enough, neither. You can’t trust them if they’re too cheap.”
“You argued with him for half an hour about the price, Gelbert,” Bonnie reminded him. “The poor man had no choice but to go down. It was either that or die of old age while waiting for his coin.”
“Nay, he was a fake. I knew it all along and now I’m dying,” Gelbert moaned, leaning forward to rest his head on the table.
Bonnie patted his shoulder while trying to think of something to say. Arls caught her eye with a questioning look, but she just shook her head. This was beyond her. There was nothing she could do for Gelbert. Behind Arls, Tomy paused in his sweeping and looked from Bonnie to Arls, confusion on his face. Then the door swung open.
A woman in a red robe stood there, the sun at her back. Her bearing was regal, her eyes cold. Almost as one, the men in the room drew back from her, though she was beautiful in a cold way and their normal response should have been a hungry leaning forward. But Bonnie, for some reason, found hope lighting in her heart.
“There has been trouble here,” the woman said, striding into the room, the door swinging shut behind her. Her path led her toward Tomy and he scrambled to get out of the way.
“Aye,” Bonnie said.
“Let me see.” Gelbert had started to get up, but Bonnie held him in place with an elbow and a strong grip. With only the smallest of moans, he submitted and lay back across the table.
“I am Ricarn,” the woman said as she bent over the wound.
“Bonnie.”
“What was he bitten by?”
“A spider.”
“How long?”
“Less than three hours.”
“Then perhaps there is still time. First, we must remove the dead flesh.”
“Dead flesh?” Gelbert cried, flopping on the table as he tried to see.
Ricarn gave Bonnie a look and Bonnie said, “Hold your tongue and keep your fat arse still, Gelbert. Or find someone else who cares.” The man whimpered and lay still.
“These will help,” Ricarn said softly. She made a pass over the affected area with her forearm, the red fabric of her robe trailing behind. In its wake she left a mass of white grubs that swarmed over the infected and dying flesh.
Bonnie felt her gorge rise and almost stepped back, but she mastered herself. They were only bugs. They weren’t touching her. This woman was here to help.
“What is it? What’s happening?” Gelbert whined.
“It’s healing, that’s what’s happening,” Bonnie replied. “Now be still.”
For long minutes the two women watched silently while the grubs swarmed over the wound and the dead flesh disappeared. Then Ricarn nodded. “That is done.” She swept her arm over the area yet again and the creatures disappeared. Bonnie saw no sign of them on her robes or on her skin.
“This will take care of the infection,” Ricarn said, producing a small stoppered vial from her robe. “Spread this on the area and he should recover.”
“Should?” Gelbert said.
“Be still,” both women said at once.
Ricarn started toward the door.
“Thank you,” Bonnie called after her.
Ricarn stopped and turned around, fixing Bonnie with that level, somewhat cold stare. “It’s going to get worse. I will do what I can.”
Cara was passing through Tel’s Market Square when she felt him. Well, really, what she felt was something disturbing the flow of Song in this area. There w
ere unusual fluctuations in the currents. Her first thought was that this was another bizarre outbreak, some kind of new disease maybe, or a plague of deranged rats flooding through the streets. She stopped and surveyed the crowd, using what she had learned from Ricarn to slip beyond.
After speaking to the Insect Tender the first time she’d figured she would never hear from the woman again. Surely Ricarn had too much to do to bother with one disgraced Tender. But Ricarn had come to talk to her a number of times and she had showed Cara some of the techniques her Arc used to go beyond. It was much easier than the way Cara had learned from Brelisha and she practiced it every day.
That wasn’t the only thing Ricarn had done for her either. The Insect Tender must have spoken to the FirstMother about her because in the days after their first encounter Cara noticed that the attitude of the other Tenders changed. They still avoided her, but they did not glare or treat her badly. Her food had noticeably improved in quality. Donae came by to talk to her regularly and she’d spoken with the other Tenders from Rane Haven as well. Even Adira had softened toward her. She still seemed perplexed by Cara, but she was much friendlier and even brought her a battered old chair one night.
Cara still spent a lot of her time scrubbing the walkways. No one told her to, and she guessed she could probably stop and no one would say anything, but she actually found it easier to concentrate on the exercises Ricarn had taught her if she did them while scrubbing and besides, she needed something to do. She couldn’t sit around all the time. But now and then when she tired of it, she would go explore. After about her fifth tour of the estate she had grown tired of it and one day she just walked right out the main gate. No one tried to stop her or even say anything to her. Now she had begun to explore Qarath. Which was how she had ended up in Tel’s Market Square.
Her vision cleared and all at once she could see the flows of LifeSong. They seemed to all bend toward the center of the square. Taking her time, she made her way through the crowd. It was not easy because she was still getting used to handling normal perception and beyond at the same time. It could be very disorienting. It was as though the surreal world of beyond was superimposed on the normal world, or like one eye was seeing one world, while the other saw a different one. But Ricarn had told her she would get used to it. Until she did, she usually avoided moving around while trying to deal with both worlds at once.
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