by Emerson, Ru
Lialla knelt at the very edge of the road, a little apart from the tight clutch of men that must include Aletto, Gyrdan, Chris and Dahven, though Jennifer couldn't make out any individuals. Edrith, to her surprise, stayed with her as she knelt at the sin-Duchess's side. “Jen? Good. They decided to listen to me after all; I wanted to see if I couldn't get into the family apartments, find Mother and Merrida, get them out of harm's way."
"All right, we can do that,” Jennifer said.
"I wish I felt that confident,” Lialla said rather sharply.
"Frankly, so do I,” Jennifer muttered. Lialla gave her a quick, sidelong glance and then a flash of teeth.
"We stand a fair chance,” Lialla said; she sounded a little less tense. “I know the corridors, we're both well protected. We have Eddie to get us in the gate Aletto and I went out—perhaps we can even get back out before they go in."
"We can do that,” Jennifer repeated calmly. And all at once, she felt calm. There was something to do; something important to accomplish.
"Good. Let's go, then, get it done,” Edrith said quietly. “They aren't going to delay long; once Aletto goes out to talk to the men on that curtain wall, it'll be no time at all."
"He's mad,” Lialla said flatly, but she shook her head then and got to her feet. “The gate's this way.” She went along the left edge of the road, hard against the trees for a distance, until there was a portion of wall opposite that jutted out toward the road. The parapet came out with it and also rose; there was no light visible above the edge, only reflected light from behind to show where the upper edge was. Jennifer glanced at that, at the bulk of building behind the wall. A blue-light burned in the one window she could see, a narrow slit near the top. Lialla tugged at her sleeve and whispered against her ear, “Family apartments. Come.” She darted across the deserted road and along the base of the wall. Jennifer came right behind her, Edrith bringing up the rear.
Lialla stopped again finally, turned to shake her head and point upward. Jennifer nodded; she could see flickering, bright yellow light, could hear men talking and laughing right over her head. She suddenly felt highly visible and terribly vulnerable. This isn't what I do, she thought unhappily. A wrong step, those men would hear, they'd look over, discover the three crouched at the base of the wall—No. Don't be totally stupid. They'd be looking into darkness because of the lanterns they've got up there. And they're making enough noise to cover anything I do—if I'm careful. Lialla tugged at her sleeve and started cautiously forward again. The wall took a step in, and she halted in the corner it created, took Jennifer's hand and guided it forward.
Wood. A door? Jennifer edged cautiously around Lialla, felt enough to assure herself it was some kind of door; larger than standard, probably to allow horses to pass through. Lialla slid around her, took her fingers again, and brought her hand down to touch the latch.
Jennifer nodded, but stepped back. Lialla would know if it creaked—or if it once had. What kind of lock was on the other side, or if it was locked. Edrith eased over to touch her shoulder and press his bo into her free hand, then crouched in front of the door to study the latch. Jennifer could just make out his near-motionless shape, not what he did. She concentrated on getting air into a painfully tight chest; two breaths later, the door swung into hay- and horse-scented blackness. Edrith came to his feet and went through it in one fluid, utterly silent movement. Lialla glanced over her shoulder and followed.
This is not what I do, Jennifer told herself again, despairingly this time. But she drew a deep breath, shifted Edrith's bo to the left hand along with her own, and went into the Duke of Zelharri's stables, silently closing the door behind her.
21
Lialla waited for her just inside; in the dark, Jennifer nearly ran her down. The sin-Duchess was trembling violently and her hands were cold, the palms clammy. Jennifer wrapped an arm around her shoulder. This is where Carolan died, she realized suddenly. No wonder the woman was in such a state. “Come on,” she breathed against Lialla's ear. “Let's get out of here; the smell of horse is going to kill me.” She felt Lialla's energetic nod; she kept her arm around the woman as they started walking toward the faint gray square of light at the far end of the stable.
Edrith was waiting there for them, crouched by the opening, watching the wall to their right, looking up toward the men Jennifer could hear just above them. Lialla detached herself gently and moved to the other side of the doorway. Edrith took the staff Jennifer held out to him, edged back a little as she knelt next to him. She could hear the men up there clearly now; they seemed to be playing some kind of dice game, three different voices calling out numbers in rapid order, topping each other. Someone else was laughing, but the laughter sounded strained; in fact, they all sounded tense. Not surprising. They must surely know something was wrong in Duke's Fort, they must at least suspect Aletto was on his way home.
Edrith tugged on Jennifer's sleeve, drew her head close and leaned to speak against her ear. “Wait a moment."
She glanced out across the courtyard—it was entirely open and light from the walls spilled across it from two directions—and nodded. “Distraction,” she replied softly, and he nodded in turn. Lialla looked across the open area, glanced up, and her shoulders sagged. But a few moments later, all sounds on the wall abruptly ceased. Someone beyond the road was shouting, though Jennifer couldn't make out who it was, or what he was saying. One of the wall guard shouted down, “The gate is shut for the night. Come after sunrise!"
Another spate of words from the other side of the wall. Directly above them, one man asked indignantly, “What fool is that? He must be from outside the Duchy, not to know better than to come here at such an hour!"
"Can't see,” someone replied. “Get a lantern over here."
The light just above them was lifted up. Jennifer watched it move jerkily away from the inner side of the wall, then watched as the spill of light moved away from them, out across the courtyard; shadow replaced it all the way to the Fort wall. Edrith leaped to his feet and ran lightfooted across the open, staying right to remain in shade; the second lantern still threw light along the left side of the yard and all the way up the stable wall.
He gained the archway, Lialla right on his heels and Jennifer only a step or two behind. When she risked a glance over her shoulder, she could see the outlines of four men on the curtain wall, outlined by an upheld lantern, gazing out and down. Two were talking urgently to a third, and as she watched, two more came down the wall from somewhere above the stable. Edrith tugged at the end of her bo, then, and gestured sparingly with his head.
Lialla pressed past him and took the lead, but she stopped almost at once as another locked door loomed before them. Edrith put his bo into her hands and Jennifer noticed for the first time that the sin-Duchess wasn't armed. At least, not with a physical weapon. If Jadek can block her, or somehow reach her—No, she told herself firmly. She wasn't going to let herself think anything like that, not with her knees threatening to buckle at any moment. Edrith reclaimed his bo and gave the door a shove, held it for the two women, then pushed it closed behind him.
Down a long corridor, with open garden visible on one side and a variety of closed doors on the other. The air was chill, oddly scented with some herb Jennifer couldn't quite place. Lialla stopped before a very narrow opening that Jennifer at first thought must be an air vent, turned sideways and slipped through it. When her turn came, she found herself in a blue-lit circular room, a stair leading up one side, a very faint light coming from somewhere high above. Lialla stood very still, eyes closed, swaying slightly, and Jennifer felt Thread vibrate ever so slightly all around them. Lialla shook her head and grimaced, visibly frustrated, caught up the blue-light and wrapped it in one of her scarves so that only the least gleam showed in front of her feet, and started up the stairs.
There was no railing. Jennifer held the bo out on her left side for counterbalance and clutched the wall with her right hand. Lialla's light was better than none,
but not by much; she felt for steps with her toes and grew more and more aware as she climbed of the drop below her.
After maybe a hundred shallow steps, they came up through a floor and into a very small landing area. Lialla's blue-light showed a door; she passed it by and began climbing once again. This time there were walls on both sides, but the stair was narrower than ever. There was, fortunately, fresh air coming in from somewhere. It ruffled the hair back from Jennifer's forehead and the back of her neck, pleasantly cool against sweaty skin.
Lialla paused before the next door, handed the sphere to Edrith, who passed it on to Jennifer. “Wait,” the sin-Duchess whispered. “I'm not certain—just wait.” She laid both hands against wood, closed her eyes and shifted into Thread.
Jennifer set her jaw and shifted herself, into a mental vocalization of Puccini, second act card game duet from Fanciulla, soprano and bass parts both. Trying to recall the sheriff's lyrics, in Italian, took enough thought to put distance between already jangled nerves and Lialla's extensive use of pure Thread in such an enclosed stone hallway. She made it all the way through the switched winning poker hand, “Tre Aci et un Paio!” before Lialla breached the door and pushed it into a darkened room.
It was cold, deserted. Lialla's shoulders sagged. “I knew better, but I still somehow hoped Merrida would be here,” she said finally. “It's hers—this chamber. She said it was well protected against Jadek's finding. She never contemplated a Triad, though, not in Duke's Fort.” She turned to look at them both and her face was very wan in the blue light. “You don't have to come any farther with me—"
"After coming this far?” Edrith demanded. “Rully, you know?"
"Don't be silly,” Jennifer said acerbically. “Of course we do. Where from here?” Lialla gripped her arm and then his in silent thanks.
"The other door,” she said, and turned to point it out. “It leads to the family rooms. Mother's apartments are down there. Jadek may be there, too."
"Can you sense Merrida or your mother at all?” Jennifer asked.
"I haven't dared try. Jadek might realize we're here if I do."
"I'll wager he has an idea already,” Edrith said. Head tipped to one side, he was listening and he held up a hand for silence. “Hear that?"
"Dear gods,” Lialla whispered. There were men shouting everywhere, suddenly, and even though the sound was muted by the thick walls of the tower, by the lack of windows, it was clear that an alarm had been given. “No time, no time at all, hurry!” she whispered, and, crossing the cold, dark chamber in two swift, long strides, she had the other door thrown open and was out into a long, dimly lit, carpeted hallway. Jennifer drew a deep breath, expelled it in a gust, and followed, with Edrith right on her heels.
* * * *
There was no one in the hallway, either direction, though Jennifer could see a lot of light beyond the narrow window when she looked over her shoulder—possibly the same window they'd seen earlier from the road. Lialla was running now, the blue-light fully exposed—apparently forgotten—in her left hand. There wasn't much need of it here: There were glass-shades holding candles or oil lamps set at close intervals all down the walls. Perhaps every fourth lamp was lit, just enough to show the way down the hall, night-light fashion. It was still enough of a difference from the stable, the corridor and that dreadful, close tower, Jennifer felt utterly exposed.
Lialla hesitated only a moment before a double door to her left, then threw herself against it, slamming down a heavy latch as her shoulder struck wood. The doors split in the center and gave way silently.
The room beyond was a bedroom, furnished better and more richly than anything Jennifer had thus far seen in Rhadaz: sheer hangings draped in swags from tall, finely carved bedposts, thick, exquisite carpeting over a polished wooden floor. Windows with deep sills took most of two adjoining walls: These were large, with individual panes etched or beveled. A finely wrought gold candelabra sat on one sill, perhaps a dozen long tapers burning in its holders; lighting the sill, the bed, much of the room around it; light reflected from beveled windowpanes, casting shimmering prisms along white walls as the flames bent and flared. Lialla hesitated only a moment, glanced nervously over her shoulder and then ran to the bed. Empty. But across a low, dark chest at the bed's foot, a limp, pale form in swathing black scarves lay very still—so still that Jennifer, who reached her first, wasn't certain at first that she breathed.
The hair, the overall shape suggested woman, the face and hair said old, the clothing Wielder. But if Lialla had not spoken the name aloud, Jennifer would never have recognized Merrida.
The old woman had looked drawn and spent enough that night in the woods; now, she looked like death, and she'd lost enough weight that the bone structure of her face stood out in sharp relief; skin hung in grayish, crepey swags on her throat and forearms. She opened her eyes, stared at the two women unblinking. “Merrida, it's Lialla,” the sin-Duchess whispered urgently. Merrida turned her gaze to Jennifer, let it touch briefly on Edrith and went back to Lialla.
"Know who you are.” The old woman's voice sounded dry, as though it hadn't been used in a very long time. “What you are, though—what have you done?” she demanded in a furious whisper.
Lialla shook her head impatiently. “Merrida, please, there's no time for argument. We've come to take you and Mother to safety. Where is Mother?"
"With Jadek, below. Waiting.” Merrida drew a breath that grated unpleasantly in her throat.
"Oh, Merrida.” Lialla knelt to take hold of her old mentor's fingers. Merrida compressed her lips and snatched her hand back. “Merrida, what has he done to you?"
"He set Hell-Light against me, once his Triad discovered my safety. Hell-Light,” Merrida repeated faintly. “He was particularly angry, something you'd done to thwart him, set his Triad to find—never mind. He did this—” She raised a hand, jerkily pulled it along her black robes with shaking fingers, touched herself just above where her sash should have been. It was gone, Jennifer realized suddenly. By the look on her face, it was clear Lialla had just seen that, too. “I'm infected. He did that, deliberately. I can't find Thread at all, it's gone, left me.” Her voice had been fading; now she sighed, air whistling in her throat, and let her eyes close.
"I know,” Lialla replied soothingly, her voice at odds with her eyes. “It's all right. Merrida, you'll be fine. I can deal with the Hell-Light."
She probably would have said more but Merrida began laughing; the laughter turned almost at once to a harsh, racking cough. The old woman fought her way onto one elbow, but when Lialla would have tried to support her, Merrida struck the hand away. “Don't dare to touch me! You'd help, you'd spread Hell-Light through me as you did for yourself, wouldn't you? Or did she do this to you? Either way, you've accepted it, haven't you? Let yourself fill with Hell-Light, and you've used it, too, haven't you?” She turned her head to fix Jennifer with an icy stare. “I overheard a thing or two about you a time since, below. Things you've dared with Thread. And you've convinced the girl, too, haven't you? Turned her back on the right and proper ways? Filthy, wretched outlander, I regret that I ever brought you here—!"
"You didn't,” Jennifer interrupted flatly. “The music did, that and the magic, you said so yourself. If you wanted a certain code of behavior followed, you should have sent for an established Rhadazi Wielder to help them. Or you should have given me a dose of your ethics along with the language."
"How dare you speak to me that way?"
"It's no thanks to you any of us is still alive,” Jennifer replied evenly. “I owe you nothing.” Silence. “I think you'd better pay heed; we haven't much time to spend on you just now. We can help you."
"Help,” Merrida muttered bitterly.
"Help,” Jennifer agreed. “Look at Lialla: She's still alive, she can still Wield, Light hasn't harmed her. Are you going to let stupidity kill you or will you accept her offer?"
"I? You want me to accept that?” Merrida turned back to glare at Lialla, her
head jerking with the effort it took her to hold it upright, but she again slapped Lialla's supporting hand away. “Don't touch me, you evil, disgusting child!"
"Merrida,” Lialla said in a low, desperate voice. “Merrida, please listen!"
"Filthy, dreadful girl! I knew if we must depend upon you we were all lost! I knew—"
"Shut up,” Jennifer said evenly. Merrida's eyes went wide and slid sideways to meet hers. “If you can't say anything useful, just be quiet. If you want to die, that's your business. Exactly where is Lialla's mother? Where is Jadek?"
"In the main hall. Light,” Merrida spat and turned back to Lialla. “There wasn't anything you wouldn't do for more magic, was there? Nothing!"
"Merrida, that isn't fair—!” Lialla protested faintly. “I didn't—!"
"Lying brat!” Merrida hissed and swung her hand; Lialla intercepted it just short of her cheek and gripped the old woman's wrist, hard.
"No,” she said, and she sounded breathless, possibly afraid of standing up to Merrida even in her present condition. She drew a deep breath, then, and squared her shoulders; when she went on, there was no tremor in her voice. “No. It's enough. Don't you ever attempt to strike me again! Whatever I've done, it's my responsibility, my life, my person, not yours. I'm not your novice any longer, Merrida, and I'm adult by any Rhadazi standard.” She released the stunned old Wielder's wrist and got to her feet. “I'm going down now, to do what I can to aid Mother."
"She won't welcome you,” Merrida snarled.
"Perhaps not. Aletto needs me, and Mother may listen, in time. Later, we can talk, you and I. My offer remains, if you'll have it."
"Unnatural, filthy, evil—” Merrida began in a harsh whisper. It faded; she slumped back on the chest. Lialla gave her one long, unfathomable look, then turned away and went from the room, back into the hall.