Then Rebecca Morley had disappeared from Oden’s Ford, and Lord Bayar’s son Micah with her. If Han found no trace of Rebecca along the way, he would hunt down Micah Bayar and wring the truth from him. If Rebecca were still alive, it was an urgent mission. If she were dead, he would make the Bayars pay.
Han had been overconfident at Oden’s Ford. His own words mocked him.
You Bayars need to learn that you can’t have everything you want. I’m going to teach you.
He’d spoken truer words to Rebecca, the last time he’d seen her.
When I put things aside for the future, they disappear on me.
He was returning home, like a Ragger streetlord walking into Southbridge, with enemies on every side. Only, this time, if blood spilled, it would be on the other side.
Which meant he needed better weapons. He’d have to risk a return to Aediion and make up with his former tutor, Crow.
Crow had lied to Han, too—had played him for a fool, had ruthlessly used him to try to kill their mutual enemies, the Bayars. But Crow had taught Han more about magic during their late-night tutoring sessions than he’d learned from all of the faculty at Oden’s Ford put together.
Han wanted to get a commitment from Crow before he crossed the border into the Fells. He needed to enter Aediion from a secure place, since his abandoned body would be vulnerable during the time he was absent. About a day’s ride south of Fetters Ford, Han found a camping place in a small canyon where a creek ran into the larger river.
He spread his blankets on the slope above the stream. Scraping a rude pit in the rocky earth, he built a small, smokeless fire at the bottom, which wouldn’t be visible except from directly above.
Han ate his standard supper of waybread, cheese, smoked fish, and dried fruit, washing it down with tea made from water from the stream. Then he paged through his book of charms, leaning close to the fire so he could see.
Crow could create illusion but did not seem to be able to do magic on his own. He lacked flash, the wizard-generated energy that interacted with amulets to make things happen. So if magic was the only tool that could do damage in Aediion, Han should be safe in returning. If.
Han still wore the rowan talisman Fire Dancer had made for him, the one that had prevented Crow from possessing him during his last visit to Aediion. He had to trust that it would protect him again. It was a calculated risk, but Crow shared his hatred for the Bayars, and Han needed an ally. Crow was likely the only one able and possibly willing to teach Han what he needed to win.
Taking a deep breath, Han focused on the Mystwerk Tower room, their meeting place over his months at Oden’s Ford. He guessed it didn’t matter where he chose, but it was as good a place as any. He visualized the battered floorboards, the huge bells hanging overhead, the pattern of moonlight on the wall. Closing his hand on his amulet, he spoke the traveling charm.
Han opened his eyes to find himself standing in the belfry in Mystwerk Tower, dressed in finely tailored blueblood clothes. Quickly, he scanned his surroundings, keeping his hand on his amulet. He was alone.
He breathed in warm, moist air—southern air. Outside, a cart rattled over cobblestone streets. If he ran to the window, would he see it? If he walked outside and made his way to Hampton Hall, would he find Dancer there? He couldn’t quite get his mind around that.
Han waited. A minute passed. Another minute. Maybe he’d been wrong, and Crow wouldn’t come. Disappointment swelled within him. Patience, Alister, he thought. It’s been a month, and likely Crow doesn’t expect you back.
Finally, the air quivered in front of his eyes, brightened, then seemed to compress.
It was Crow, but different from the Crow Han remembered. The image was frail, insubstantial, his clothes rippling around him like angel wings. Han’s former tutor stood at a little distance, feet spread, arms raised as if for defense. And his hair, which had been soot black, was now a pale blond, nearly translucent, though his eyes remained the brilliant blue Han remembered.
“Hello, Crow,” Han said.
Crow tilted his head, watching Han like he might be jumped at any moment. “Why are you here?” he asked. “I did not think I would see you again.”
“This may be the last time,” Han said, as if he didn’t care either way. “But I thought I’d give you a chance to explain.”
“Why should I explain anything to you?” Crow said, eyes narrowed. “You’ve gained considerably more from our relationship than I have. I handed you the chance to be rid of two of the Bayars and you fumbled it.”
“Fine,” Han said. “Guess this is a waste of time. Good-bye, then.” He took hold of his amulet and opened his mouth as if to say the closing charm.
“Wait.” Crow put up his hands, then slowly dropped them to his sides. For once, he’d left off the baubles and the fancy rigging. “Please stay.”
Han stood, his hand on his amulet, waiting.
“Was there something specific you wanted me to explain?” Crow said, with a sigh. “In the interest of efficiency?”
“I want to know who you are, why you don’t want me to know who you are, why you have a grudge against the Bayars, and why you wanted to partner up with me,” Han said. “That’s for starters.”
Crow rubbed his forehead with his thumb and forefinger, looking done in. “Wouldn’t it be sufficient if I promise not to treat you like a fool in the future?”
Han shook his head. “That’s not enough.”
“Even if I tell you the truth, you won’t believe me,” Crow said. “That’s always the way. People unnecessarily limit themselves, and then they try to limit you.”
“I’m not learning what I need to know here,” Han said. “I’m not the most patient person.”
“Nor am I,” Crow said. “But I have had to be incredibly patient for longer than you can even imagine.” He thought a moment. “Who am I? I was once the Bayars’ enemy. Their greatest rival.”
By now it was clear that the only way Han was going to hear this story was in small bits and riddles. “And now you’re not?” Han said.
Crow smiled faintly. “I suppose you would say I am a shade. A ghost of my former self. A remnant of who I used to be, made up of memory and emotion. The Bayars no longer perceive me as a threat. And yet”—he tapped his temple—“I have something they want very badly.”
“Knowledge,” Han guessed. “You know something they need to know.”
“I know something they need to know, and I intend to use it to destroy them,” Crow said matter-of-factly. “That is the reason for my existence.”
Han was lost. “When you say you are a ghost of your former self, what does that mean, exactly?”
Crow’s image shimmered, dissolved, and then reassembled itself. “This is all that remains of me,” he said. “I am an illusion. I exist in your head, Alister. And in Aediion, the meeting place of wizards. Not in the world you consider real.”
“You’re saying you’re…dead?” Han stared at Crow. “That doesn’t make sense.” At least, it didn’t fit in very well with what he’d been taught at temple. But then he’d never claimed to be a theologian.
Crow shrugged. “What is death? The loss of a body? The loss of the animating spark? If that’s the case, I am dead.
“Or is life the persistence of memory and emotion, volition and desire?” Crow went on, as if in a debate with himself. “If that’s the case, I am very much alive.”
“But you have no body,” Han said.
Crow smiled. “Precisely. I have no corporeal body, nothing beyond what I conjure up in Aediion. And a body is required in order to get things done in the real world. A body is necessary in order to take revenge on the Bayars. Specifically, a wizard’s body, since that would allow me to use my considerable knowledge of magic.”
“And that’s where I came in,” Han said. “I could provide the flash you needed.”
“That’s where you came in.” Crow eyed Han critically, head cocked. “You seemed perfect. You are extremely powerful—
surprisingly so. You’d had little to no training, which made you vulnerable to my influence and eager to spend time with me. You hated the Bayars, and, given your tawdry background, I assumed that you were ruthless and unprincipled. All good.”
“All good?” Han asked, rolling his eyes. This was a bit more honesty than he needed.
Crow nodded. “At first I was able to take control of you fairly easily, particularly when you were actively using your amulet. I even provided support at times, when you seemed in danger of being prematurely killed.”
“You mean the thorn hedge, when we were chased across the border into Delphi,” Han said. “And when we escaped from Prince Gerard at Ardenscourt.” Han had immolated several of Montaigne’s soldiers with seemingly little participation on his own part.
“Yes,” Crow said. “But eventually, as you became more adept, you put up rudimentary barriers that kept me out. Very frustrating. I looked for a way back in.”
“And then I came to Aediion,” Han said.
“To my delight, you did.” Crow threw him a sidelong glance. “In Aediion, you were still vulnerable to whatever illusion I conjured up. I could still get into your mind. We could have actual conversations, and I could teach you. That opened a realm of possibilities.”
“But…” Han frowned. “There were still times, even after we began meeting, that you possessed me in real life, right?” he said. He’d found himself on the upper floors of the Bayar Library amid old dusty books. He’d discovered a map of Gray Lady and a list of incantations in his pocket. Scribbled notes that were now tucked away in his saddlebags. “I kept losing big chunks of time on the days we met.”
“At the end of our tutoring sessions, when you were nearly drained of magic, the barriers came down. I could take possession of you and cross over with you when you left the dreamworld,” Crow said, without a trace of apology.
“Is that why you worked me so hard?” Han asked. “To wear me down so you could seize control?”
“Well, that and, of course, we had considerable work to do,” Crow said. He shrugged. “Unfortunately, you were useless for magical tasks in your depleted condition, or I might have gone after the Bayars then and there. But it did allow me to get out into the world.”
It gave Han the prickly shivers to imagine Crow inhabiting his body. “Yet you chose to spend your time in a dusty old library,” Han said.
Crow frowned at Han, looking dismayed. “You remember that?”
“You left me in the wrong place a few times,” Han said. “In the stacks.”
“I had only a brief window of time before your amulet was drained completely,” Crow said. “Several times we ran out before I could return you to where you were supposed to be.”
“Well, I thought I was losing my mind,” Han said. “What were you looking for?”
“I was only trying to stay ahead of you,” Crow said, biting his lip and shifting his gaze away. “You are a challenging student, Alister, always asking questions and demanding answers.”
“I don’t believe you,” Han said. “I think you were working your own plan. Were you maybe looking for a way to seize control of me permanently?”
Crow’s eyes glittered, signifying that Han had hit on the truth. “That would have been perfect. But impossible, it seems.” Crow closed his eyes, as if reliving it. “Can you imagine it, Alister? Can you imagine what it was like for a shade like me to experience the world again through all of your senses—vision and touch, and smell and taste and hearing?”
“I wouldn’t have gone to the library, I’ll tell you that,” Han said.
Crow laughed. “I like you, Alister. All of this would have been easier if you were unlikable. And stupid. You would have been considerably more tractable.”
“Tractable gets you nothing,” Han said, feeling like a country boy at market. Crow had dumped so much on him that he couldn’t quite see where the holes were. Questions rattled around in his brain.
“So. I have been uncommonly frank with you,” Crow said, interrupting his thoughts. “Now, tell me: why did you come back? Shall I assume that you still want something from me?”
“I’m on my way back to the Fells to go up against the Bayars and maybe the entire Wizard Council,” Han said.
“All by yourself? That seems ambitious even for you,” Crow said dryly. “What, exactly, do you hope to accomplish? Beyond flinging your life away.”
Han knew he had to give a reason that the cynical Crow would understand. A reason that would make Crow his ally, for now, anyway.
“The Bayars want to put Micah Bayar on the Gray Wolf throne,” Han said. “I’m not going to let that happen.”
“Mmm. The Bayars are nothing if not persistent,” Crow murmured. “It’s a pity young Bayar didn’t die in Aediion.” He paused, peering at Han through narrowed eyes to see if he’d felt the poke. “What is it between you and the Bayars? What did they do to you?”
“They murdered my mother and sister a year ago,” Han said. “They were all the family I had. And, recently, there was a girl, Rebecca. My…ah…tutor. She’s disappeared, and the Bayars are responsible. I think they did it to get back at me.”
Crow looked into Han’s eyes. “You poor bastard,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”
Damn my readable Aediion face, Han thought, scowling.
Crow laughed. “Let me give you a piece of advice—don’t go to war over a girl. It’s not worth it. Falling in love turns wise men into fools.”
“I didn’t come to you for advice,” Han said. “I came to you for firepower. The odds are against me. Even if you help me.”
“You’re coming back to me for help after what happened the last time?” Crow raised his eyebrows. “I thought you were smarter than that.”
“Everything is a risk,” Han said. “There’s a chance you’ll betray me again, but now I’m on the watch, so you’re less likely to be able to do any real damage. The risk from the Bayars, on the other hand, is real and imminent.”
Crow stood, legs slightly apart, head tilted, regarding Han as if he’d never really seen him before. “My, my, Alister, such big words. This young woman, this teacher of yours, she has polished you up, hasn’t she?”
Rebecca. Han’s gut twisted. In return, he’d likely gotten her killed.
“What’s underneath is still the same,” Han said. “I’m going to get what I want and nobody is going to get in my way. Including you. We do this thing my way or you’re out. Take or leave.”
“All right,” Crow said. “We’ll do things your way. But I will give you advice, and you can choose to use it or ignore it.”
“Fair enough,” Han said, his questions rekindling in his mind. “But first, I need to know—what happened between you and the Bayars, and when did it happen? Where have you been in the meantime? And how did you happen to choose me?”
“Does any of that really matter?” Crow said, turning away so Han couldn’t read his expression. “This is an alliance of convenience, nothing more. Isn’t that enough?”
“I’ve learned that whatever you don’t want to talk about is the thing I want to know,” Han said, thinking, If I know the why, if I know what drives you, I can better predict when I’ll get the blade in the back.
“As I said, if I tell you the truth, you won’t believe me.” Crow paced back and forth, his image rippling again, which Han had come to recognize as a sign of agitation. Was it such a horrible memory that Crow couldn’t stand to surface it?
“Try me,” Han said, as Crow continued to pace. “Come on. At least tell me a really good lie; you might convince me.”
“It doesn’t matter to you what happened,” Crow said. “It was long before you were born.”
You’re not even that old, Han thought, then remembered that Crow could be any age.
“Nothing you say can possibly shock me,” Han said. “But nothing happens until I know what your story is.”
Crow finally swung around to face Han. A
bitter smile twisted his features. “We’ll see,” he said. “We’ll see just how foolhardy you are.” His image changed a little, sharpened, came into focus. His hair remained fair, glittering, framing refined blueblood features—eyes the color of mountain asters and a good-humored mouth. As before, he looked to be only a few years older than Han.
His clothing had become more elaborate—a finely cut coat in satin and brocade, oddly old-fashioned, its champagne color a few shades darker than his hair. He was brilliant with power—handsome as a fancy on the make.
“You’ve asked what I really look like,” Crow said, turning in a little circle, extending his arms. “Feast your eyes. This is how I looked when I went up against the Bayars.”
The wizard stoles around his neck bore images of ravens, and his coat was embroidered with a device—a twined serpent and staff, angled through a crown engraved with wolves.
The device was familiar—where had Han seen it before?
“It was an exciting and dangerous time,” Crow said. “I was young and powerful, and I competed with the Bayars in every arena—politically, magically, and in”—here he stumbled over the words a bit—“in all manner of relationships. Just as it seemed that I had beaten them for good, I was betrayed, and the Bayars captured me. When that happened, I took refuge in the amulet I carried for so long.”
Han tapped his amulet with his forefinger. “You’re saying you hid in a jinxpiece?”
Crow smiled. “Immediate disbelief, as I anticipated. I so enjoy being right all the time. As I told you, I was an innovative user of magic. I hoped that the amulet would end up in friendly hands. Unfortunately, the Bayars realized that the key to everything they desired lay in the flashpiece. Though they have been trying to extract its secrets for more than a thousand years, they’ve been spectacularly unsuccessful.”
The Gray Wolf Throne Page 3