The Raven Ring

by Patricia C. Wrede

  Eleret laid her hand on Daner’s and accompanied him to the far door. As soon as they were out of the room, she let her arm drop and turned to face him. “What’s wrong?”

  “If I knew, I’d have put a stop to this nonsense when Raqueva came back,” Daner said. “But there’s nothing I can sink a hook in, just a feeling that you’d be better off with me standing reserve in the hall than Baroja.”

  “It was that business about ‘clearing the influences,’ wasn’t it? What does that mean?”

  “Nothing, probably.” Daner frowned and began pacing along the hall. “She could be just repeating a phrase she’s heard, or Baroja may have mixed up what she told him with what little he knows of magic. But if she isn’t, and if he didn’t, then you may be right about Jonystra after all.”

  “You mean she’s a magician?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Can’t you tell?”

  Daner looked at her in exasperation. “Can you tell just by looking at someone whether he’s a warrior?”

  “Mostly.” Eleret had to smile at Daner’s expression. “It’s in the way people move.”

  “Well, can you tell a healer from a scholar or a judge, then? Or a carter from a wheelwright or a sawyer? Magic isn’t something that marks you out for all the world to see and wonder at. The only way to spot a wizard is to observe him just after he’s done a spell, when the residue of the magic he’s been using is still clinging to him.”

  “Or catch him in the middle.”

  Daner nodded. “So I simply don’t know about Jonystra. I thought that if you didn’t want to risk…whatever, we could just stand here for a while and then go back. I can tell you enough about the cards to get you past Aunt Kistran.”

  “Maybe.” Eleret frowned, considering. How great was the risk, really? Jonystra had never actually done anything but talk. Still, it might be better to take the raven ring off before she went in— No, it was safer where it was. Nothing Jonystra could say would coax the ring from Eleret’s finger, and if it did come to a fight, the Luck-seer wouldn’t get far against a Cilhar. On the other hand, if Jonystra could work magic… What you can’t counter, block. “If you’re standing outside in the hall, will you know if she starts casting a spell? And can you stop her if you notice?”

  “I can probably stop her if I notice, but I won’t notice unless it’s a powerful spell. Are you actually thinking of going through with this?”

  “Yes. I don’t think Jonystra will try anything big or powerful in a nobleman’s house, but if she does, you’ll have all the excuse you need to question her. Won’t you?”

  “Of course, but—”

  “And she’s had other chances to do something small, and she hasn’t used them.” What you can’t block, avoid. “Still— Is there some way I can tell if she tries?”

  Daner pressed his lips together for a moment, then shook his head. “I doubt it, especially if she’s pretending to magic the cards. It takes a trained wizard to tell a really good fake from a very subtle spell.”

  “If it’s that hard, what’s the difference? Oh, never mind. If things start to look odd, I’ll yell, and you can come in and figure out what’s going on.” She didn’t like having to place so much trust in a Ciaronese, but Daner was good in a fight, and from what Prill had said, he knew far more about magic than she did. What you can’t avoid, don’t fret yourself skinny over. Well, she’d done what she could to prepare. “Let’s go.”

  “You’re sure this is a good idea?”

  “No. I just don’t have a better one. Let’s go, Daner.”

  “All right.” Daner shrugged and held out his hand once more. As soon as Eleret took it, he started briskly down the hall.

  FOURTEEN

  BAROJA HAD PUT JONYSTRA in a narrow chamber along the front wall of the house. To Eleret’s secret relief, Daner entered along with her, and his presence gave her an extra moment to evaluate the situation.

  Partway across the room, Jonystra Nirandol sat on the near side of a rectangular table. Her skull-faced servant stood in the shadows on the far side of the table, straightening the red cloth that draped it. Eleret could not make out many details, for the light was very bad. Although the chamber was two stories above the street, the windows were not much wider than the cross-shaped arrow slits on the ground floor, and since it was well after sunset, nothing showed through them. No fire burned on the hearth, and none of the lamps were lit; the only illumination came from a lone candle at Jonystra’s elbow.

  “I bring you your next client, Luck-seer,” Daner said, bowing.

  “I thank you, my lord,” Jonystra replied. She lowered her eyes, then looked up again with a smile. “It is good to see you again. Both of you.”

  “I’m pleased you remember me,” Daner said. He hesitated, then stepped farther into the room and gave Jonystra his most charming smile. “It inspires me to request a favor.”

  “A favor?” Jonystra’s eyes dropped once more, and the corners of her mouth stiffened slightly, making her smile look as if she had pasted it in place. “What sort of favor?”

  “May I observe your charting? I’m interested in different techniques, and I don’t get the opportunity to watch a true Luck-seer very often.”

  Jonystra looked up, plainly startled. “You wish to stay to watch this lady’s cards charted?”

  “If you’ll allow me.” Daner bowed again.

  “I fear I cannot,” Jonystra said, visibly pulling herself together. “You will have opportunities enough when your own cards are charted.” She paused. “You do intend to have your cards charted?”

  “Of course, but it’s difficult to pay close attention to technique when one is personally concerned with the outcome.”

  “And I would appreciate having Lord Daner’s opinion,” Eleret put in. It was a good idea; she should have thought of it herself. If they could persuade Jonystra to let Daner stay, she’d be less inclined to try anything and less likely to get away with it if she did.

  Jonystra shook her head sadly. “Charting the cards is a delicate business. The presence of another person would reduce the accuracy and—”

  “Oh, that’s all right.” Eleret smiled, hoping Jonystra did not know much about Cilhar, and added, “Without help, I won’t remember what you tell me anyway.”

  Daner gave Eleret a startled look, but fortunately Jonystra was not watching his expression and he recovered quickly. “A good point,” he said smoothly. “With my mother and Lady Kistran demanding details from everyone, I can see why you are concerned.”

  It was Eleret’s turn to be puzzled; Daner’s mother had not expressed any particular interest in the fine points of the charts. The words seemed to carry some meaning to Jonystra, however, for she frowned uncertainly and glanced across the table at her silent servant. “I’m not sure,” she said. “That is, I don’t think…”

  “I venture to say that Luck-seer Nirandol is equal even to so difficult a task as my lord proposes,” the skull-faced man said, bending his head respectfully. His voice was deep and mellow, a complete contrast to his appearance, and he spoke with a trace of an accent that Eleret did not recognize, though it seemed vaguely familiar.

  Jonystra blinked, as if this was not the response she had been expecting. “Thank you, Mobrellan. We shall try it, then.” She smiled at Daner once more and gestured toward the end of the table. “If you will stand there, my lord, you may watch, but do not speak or move suddenly during the charting. It would be distracting for both of us.”

  “My gracious thanks to you, Luck-seer.” Daner, his expression one of admiring interest, took up the position Jonystra had indicated.

  “Now, Freelady, if you will sit here, we may begin.”

  With a twinge of misgiving, Eleret tugged the end of the bench a little farther out, to give herself more room to move, and sat down. As she did, she let her hand brush the hilt of her knife for reassurance.

  “Come closer, please,” Jonystra said. “You must be able to see the cards, and I must see you.
”

  Eleret slid along the bench. Now her back was to Daner, and the candle at Jonystra’s elbow threw light in her eyes. She could not see Mobrellan, either, but with the width of the table between them she would have plenty of warning if he tried to come at her. Eleret shifted again, as if trying to find a more comfortable position. Better, but not much. She still could not see Mobrellan or Daner, and the candle still made watching Jonystra’s face difficult, but at least now she did not have to stare directly into the light each time she looked up from the table.

  “Are you ready? Good.” Jonystra’s voice was soft and soothing. “Think of a question for the cards, something about your future that you wish to know. Don’t tell me what your question is, just think about it. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.” The only questions Eleret could think of at first had nothing to do with the future: What was Jonystra hoping to do? Why were so many people interested in Tamm’s kit? Who had told the Syaski who she was and how to find her? Why did the raven ring seem so important, and how many people knew about it? Finally, she settled for wondering what effect the raven ring would have on her future. The way things had been going, it was sure to have some.

  “You have your question? Hold it clear in your mind.” Jonystra stretched one hand out imperiously. “Mobrellan! The cards.”

  A white blur appeared in the darkness on the far side of the table and floated toward Jonystra’s hand, becoming squarer and more solid-looking as it drew nearer. The effect was impressive; with the candlelight in her eyes, Eleret could barely see Mobrellan’s hands deposit the packet in Jonystra’s outstretched palm. Jonystra drew her arm back slowly, then turned. “Think once more of your question, and turn back the covering,” she said, offering the packet to Eleret. “Be careful not to touch the cards.”

  White silk slid smooth and cool under Eleret’s fingers, and fell away from a stack of cards with gilded edges. Jonystra smiled. “Study the cards that will tell your future and think, for the third time, of your question.”

  She did not seem to mean that Eleret should hold the cards herself, so Eleret continued to look at them. The top card showed a symmetrical maze of dark red lines on a black background. Blood red, thought Eleret, like blood on a battlefield, except that spilled blood was never so neatly arranged.

  Jonystra’s hands moved under the silk that lay between them and the cards. The cards stirred and shifted, separating, turning; and mixing together once more in a pattern as intricate as the maze painted on their backs. As they lifted to glide past each other, Eleret glimpsed fragments of the pictures on their other side: a hand holding a teacup, an outstretched wing, a Shee woman’s startled eyes, half a skull. With a start, she remembered that she was supposed to be thinking of her question. The raven ring, she reminded herself. What should I do with the ring? It wasn’t exactly the way she had put it the first time, but Eleret did not really care. If the change confused Jonystra’s cards, that was Jonystra’s problem.

  “Enough.” Jonystra pulled the cards back, flipping the silk up to cover them once more. Her eyes were wide, and her breathing was a little fast, as if she had just climbed a steep slope or finished splitting a pine log. Closing her eyes, she bowed her head over the packet.

  Eleret darted a look across the table. Mobrellan was a motionless shape, a place where the shadowy gloom thickened into darkness. From the corner of her eye, she saw Daner nod once; then Jonystra raised her head and Eleret’s attention snapped back to her.

  “Now, Freelady, as I lay out your chart, think for the fourth and final time of the question you would have answered.”

  As she spoke, Jonystra unfolded the silk and set her fingertips against the top card. Eleret did not see the point of thinking about her question now; it was too late to change the order of the cards, even if thinking could influence the way Jonystra shuffled them. Still, there seemed no harm in following this direction, so once again Eleret concentrated on the raven ring.

  “First comes your past, from support to opposition,” Jonystra said. She turned the first card face up on the table.

  Snow gleamed on the top of a rocky gray mountain. Halfway down, a shadow cut across the stone; a road circled the base of the mountain. Jonystra nodded in satisfaction. “The Mountain is the base of your support; it stands for security, but also for unused potential.” She laid another card to the left of the first.

  Eleret barely stifled a gasp. A woman warrior with chestnut hair stood proud and wary in the center of the card, a glowing sword in her right hand. At her feet, a white leopard crouched as if preparing to leap at whatever danger faced the two of them, while behind them a curtain of fire blocked their retreat. A second, more careful look told Eleret that the woman’s resemblance to her mother was limited to her hair color and profession, but the shock of recognition, however mistaken, stayed with her for a moment longer.

  “The Lady of Flames,” Jonystra said, oblivious to Eleret’s reaction. “Also called the Swordswoman. It is a powerful card, and a good one, but the position it holds is weak. She has helped you in the past, but you cannot expect her to do so in the future.”

  It’s meant to be Mother after all. Eleret swallowed hard and tried to concentrate as Jonystra placed the next card to the left of the Lady. This one looked safer: an empty birdcage hung in a room with stone walls. Brightly colored feathers lay scattered on the floor beneath it.

  “The Seven of Feathers. A card of obstacles, in the position of the beginning of obstacles. Temptation and illusion lie in your past.”

  Again, Jonystra turned up a card. As she laid it in place, completing the row of four, her face paled and Eleret felt the raven ring tighten against her forefinger. The card showed a tall, indistinct form standing beside a long table, on which lay a shattered diamond, a broken feather, a burned-out candle, and a cracked crab shell. It was impossible to tell where the form ended and the shadows around it began; the only clearly visible portion of the figure was its hand, reaching toward the table. A wisp of black smoke trailed from its fingertips.

  “The Mage Trump,” Jonystra whispered. “The source of opposition, the hidden threat rooted in your past.” She glanced up, as if she expected to find the anonymous shape reaching toward her from the shadows. On the far side of the table, Mobrellan shifted. Jonystra raised her chin defiantly and turned back to Eleret. “The Mage is dangerous and powerful, but it—he—is not an immediate threat to you. Your other cards will tell us more.”

  Quickly, Jonystra laid two more cards just above the first two she had set out. “These cards are in the nearer past, though like the Mountain and the Lady of Flames they, too, support your desires. Ah, the Priest of Flames and the Two of Stones. A man of good intent and some potential, and a balance of opposites. Good cards, but not strong. Your recent opposition…”

  The card was upside down, so it took Eleret a moment to make sense of the picture. A man robed in red stood at the top of a short flight of stone steps. Fire shot from his outstretched hand to a hearth below, sending flames roaring up a chimney. At the foot of the stairs, the ghostly outline of a white cat contemplated the dangling ends of his belt.

  “The Mage of Flames, reversed,” Jonystra said in a voice that shook slightly. Eleret looked up in time to see her glance across the table once more. “A powerful and intelligent man, who is and will be your strongest opposition.” She hesitated, then pressed her lips together and reached for the next card.

  Behind her, Eleret felt Daner shift, and then Jonystra laid the final card in the second row. “Three of Shells, reversed. Loss and emotional pain, which may cloud your judgment. Be wary, and think carefully on your decisions.”

  Jonystra paused, her fingers touching the next card. “The next two rows will tell your future, advising what you should do and what people will help or hinder you. Listen closely, and remember. This is the beginning of your future.”

  As she spoke, she laid the first card in the next row. She stopped, frowning. Eleret looked at the card: a jester juggl
ing three flaming torches.

  “Well?” Eleret said after a moment. “What does it mean?”

  “Three of Flames,” Jonystra said automatically. “Surprise or unexpected actions. It is…an odd position to find such a card.”

  “Really?” Eleret thought of all the surprises she’d had since she picked up her mother’s kit—had it only been that morning? She still didn’t understand most of what had happened; it seemed almost reasonable to expect more surprises in the near future. “I don’t think so.”

  “It should not be there,” Jonystra said, half to herself. “Perhaps the next—The Demon? No. That isn’t right. How—”

  Jonystra broke off, her face white and her hands shaking visibly. Simultaneously, the raven ring tightened on Eleret’s forefinger, and a sharp prickling sensation ran around the finger below the band. Her left hand dropped to the hilt of her dagger and drew it without conscious thought, just as Daner gave a wordless exclamation and surged forward.

  “What do you mean by using spells in my household, Luck-seer?” Daner demanded.

  “I can’t…I’m not…” Jonystra swayed where she sat, her eyes fixed on the stack of cards in her hands.

  “Luck-seer!” Daner took hold of Jonystra’s shoulder and shook her, none too gently. “Explain yourself.” His eyes were narrowed in concentration, and the air around him had the faint but unmistakable smell of the high meadows after a thunderstorm. Eleret slid away from the two of them, reaching right-handed for a raven’s-foot as she did. If there was magic going on, she wanted as much space between herself and it as she could conveniently manage.

  “I can’t…can’t hold,” Jonystra gasped. “No!”

  Blue fire flared ceiling-high from the cards she clutched. Daner staggered back, his hands raised to shield his face. The raven ring pricked Eleret’s finger once more, hard and sharp. On the far side of the room, something made a pinging noise, as if a coin had just fallen on the stone floor.