Midwinter 02: The Office of Shadow

by Matthew Sturges

  "Son of a whore," he muttered. "It's Mauritane all over again."

  "For the time being," said Sela, "perhaps we ought to let Chief Paet continue. Whatever the future may be, we're all here now, and there is work to be done. Is that not so, Chief?" As she spoke, she pushed hard against the thin threads connecting her with Chief Paet and Ironfoot. She barely knew either of them, so she had little to work with, but she wove as much trust and acceptance into the skeins of those threads as she was able. It seemed to help a bit. Ironfoot calmed perceptibly, and Paet appeared to relax as well. Silverdun was glaring at her. Did he suspect what she was doing?

  Surely not. There wasn't anyone else in all of Faerie that could do what she did, as far as she knew. Empathy was only supposed to work in one direction: toward the Empath. But Lord Tanen had ensured that she was unique.

  "We are," said Everess, trying to take control of the situation, "at a watershed moment in the history of the Seelie Kingdom, and indeed of the entire world of Faerie, if not the rest of the worlds to boot.

  "Now is the time for boldness and decisive action," he said. "This is no mere philosophical exercise. This is the future of the land. We are gathered here to contend against the very destruction of our way of life. It may be that we in this room are the ones who prevent that destruction."

  Everess turned to Ironfoot. "Tell them what you saw at Selafae, Master Falores."

  "`Ironfoot' will be just fine, thanks," said Ironfoot. "And Everess has a point. I've been at the center of what was once Selafae. If we can prevent another attack like that one, it's worth all of our lives."

  "It's difficult to sit in this cozy house and seriously ponder the fate of the whole world," observed Silverdun. "And hardly a comfort."

  "It is indeed difficult," said Paet. "You're absolutely right, Silverdun. There is no comfort now. But there will be."

  Paet looked at Silverdun. "What we do is difficult, and it is painful, and it is deadly. But it gives us the power and the opportunity to make the greatest difference that a single Fae can make in the world. To me, that's worth it."

  Paet stood, leaning on his cane. "So I ask you. No, I beg you. Join me in this endeavor."

  There was another silence. "Oh, why not? What the hell else have I got to do?" said Silverdun. Everess laughed out loud, and Sela joined him. Ironfoot looked at Sela. His look said, What the hell have we gotten ourselves into?

  Sela wished she knew.

  "There's one more thing we must do tonight," said Paet. "The final step in your initiation. Once it is complete, then I will personally complete your training until I believe you are ready to be sent out on assignment."

  "What's the final step?" asked Everess.

  "That's between me and my Shadows," said Paet. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave, Lord Everess."

  Everess seemed about to say something unkind to Paet, but he restrained himself. "I suppose it's good for you to have your little rituals," he muttered.

  He walked to the stairs and saluted to Sela, Ironfoot, and Silverdun. "I salute you, good Shadows. I bid you serve your kingdom well."

  He nodded to Sela. "Have Paet call you a cab when you're finished with whatever it is you're about. He'll pay." He went up the stairs, and his footsteps faded away above.

  "Come into my office," Paet said.

  Once everyone was inside, Paet closed the door behind them and locked it. He took a small wooden box from his desk drawer and opened it, revealing a simple metal ring lying on the box's velvet lining.

  "Do any of you know what this is?" he asked. No one did.

  "What does it do?" asked Sela.

  "No one outside of this room knows of its existence," said Paet, "except perhaps for Regina Titania herself; the claims of her omniscience are, in my experience, not unfounded. This ring is part of what sets us apart from others, and a part of our strength."

  He held up the box to let everyone see it. There was nothing remarkable about the ring at all. It was just a band of iron.

  "This," he said, "is a binding ring."

  Sela had no idea what this meant, but Ironfoot apparently did, because his eyes widened. "Astonishing," he said. "I've read about these, but I never knew they truly existed."

  "The existence of things believed to be fictional is our stock-in-trade, Ironfoot."

  "What does it do?" repeated Sela.

  "What its name implies," said Paet. "It binds us to one another, makes it impossible for any of us to betray the others."

  "But it's made of iron," said Ironfoot. "Are we supposed to wear one everywhere we go?"

  "No. You only need put it on once and say the incantation.

  "Does it hurt?" asked Sela.

  "Oh yes," said Paet. "Quite a lot."

  "Well," said Silverdun. "We've come this far. What's one more bit of madness?"

  Paet took a pair of bronze tongs from his desk drawer and lifted the ring out of its box. Beneath the velvet lining was a small slip of parchment, with the Elvish incantation sounded out in Common. Silverdun read over the incantation, practiced it a few times, then held out the forefinger of his left hand.

  "I'll go first," he said.

  Using the tongs, Paet raised the ring over Silverdun's outstretched finger and let go. The ring fell into place and Silverdun screamed. He jerked backward, stumbling against the wall, wringing his hand in pain.

  "Say the incantation!" said Paet.

  Silverdun rasped out the words; as soon as he finished, his body jerked again. The witchlamps in the room dimmed briefly, and then Silverdun flung the ring onto the floor.

  "That was extraordinarily unpleasant," he said once his breathing slowed enough for him to speak.

  Ironfoot was clearly none too interested to go next, but a quick glance in Sela's direction showed that some chivalrous instinct demanded that he precede her. Paet retrieved the ring from the floor with the tongs and repeated the procedure on him. Sela instinctively dropped the thread joining Ironfoot to her.

  Ironfoot didn't scream; rather he growled low, like an animal, his face red, and he hissed the words of the spell through gritted teeth. Again the lights dimmed, and Ironfoot too flung the thing across the office, this time directly at Paet, who quickly dodged it.

  Silverdun clapped Ironfoot on the back. "Feels nice, doesn't it?"

  Ironfoot grimaced. "The really painful part will come when he admits that the bloody thing doesn't actually do anything."

  "My turn," said Sela. Paet looked at her and hesitated. Then he offered her the ring. After seeing what her two comrades had just suffered, the anticipation was growing unbearable, and she simply wanted to get it over with.

  She held out her finger, and Paet dropped the ring on it.

  It hurt. Very much. She did what was required, and hurled the ring as far from her as possible.

  "Are you all right?" asked Silverdun. She wanted to tell him that no, everything was not all right, and would he please put his arms around her?

  "I'll be just fine," she said.

  Paet put the ring back in the box, and the box back in the drawer. He regarded them with satisfaction.

  "Forget what Everess said. Now you are Shadows. Now we are brothers and sisters. We share a bond unlike any other.

  "Now the work can truly begin."

  "What about you?" said Silverdun. "Aren't you going to put it on?"

  "I put it on a long time ago," said Paet.

  Sela had hoped she'd get a chance to speak with Silverdun after the meeting, but he seemed preoccupied, and Sela was so torn by her own confusion that by the time she got up the courage to speak with him, she discovered that he'd already gone home.

  As promised, Paet hired her a cab and she went home alone, confused, elated, worried. All of these emotions clung to her like one of the formal dresses that Everess liked for her to wear: awkward, ill fitting, oppressive.

  Everess was in his study when she arrived at Boulevard Laurwelana.

  "Quite an evening, eh?" he said, looking up from his
work.

  "It was, at that," she answered.

  "Well, go on up to bed," he said. "It's late, and I'm sure Paet has all sorts of things to hurl at you tomorrow. Both literally and figuratively, if I know him."

  "Of course, Lord Everess."

  After a moment Everess looked up and found her still there. "Yes," he said, annoyed, "what is it?"

  "You didn't tell us the whole truth," she said.

  Everess leaned back in his chair. "You're right," he said. "I didn't. I'm sorry."

  "Apology accepted," said Sela.

  She went upstairs to her room and lay on the bed, fully clothed. Ecara came to undress her, but Sela sent her away. She tossed and turned but couldn't sleep.

  About an hour later, there was a loud knock on the door downstairs. A few seconds passed, and then another. Sela heard footsteps, the opening door. She heard muffled voices. Quiet at first and then louder.

  Sela crept out of her room and down the hallway. She stood on the landing and peered over the banister that overlooked Everess's parlor. Paet was here, pacing, while Everess sat in a wingback chair with a large goblet of wine, watching him.

  "Angry?" said Paet. "I'm furious!"

  "Calm down, man," said Everess. "Have a seat. I'd offer you a drink, but you've clearly had some on your own."

  "You asked me for recommendations," said Paet. "I gave you a list. Twenty-five names. Excellent candidates, chosen from within the Ministry, the army, the Royal Guard. Any of those would have been perfect. But do I get any of those?"

  "Now look here-"

  "Of course not!" Paet interrupted. "Instead you give me, what, a university professor! And a sarcastic monk! And that thing you've got locked upstairs!

  "You expect me to do what I do, to work miracles, and yet it seems that in every instance, you do everything in your power to hinder me!"

  "If I may speak for a moment," said Everess coldly.

  Paet ignored him. "And then, as if that weren't bad enough, you lie to them, tell them that this will be something that it isn't. It's the first day, and I'm fairly certain that these brilliant new Shadows you've selected for me all want to quit."

  He paused. He took the decanter on the sideboard and poured himself a glass of whiskey.

  "And I wish I could let them!"

  He sat down in a chair opposite Everess and took a long drink from his glass.

  Everess cleared his throat. "Where to begin?"

  He leaned forward. "First, and most importantly, did Silverdun and Ironfoot return from Whitemount successfully? Or did they not?"

  "They did."

  "Good. At least you're willing to admit it. Second, that university professor was a war hero in the Gnomics. He fought with valor and distinction and was awarded the Laurel four times over for excellence in combat. He's no mere scholar and we both know it.

  "Now Silverdun. You know that Silverdun was with Mauritane on whatever bloody secret mission that Titania sent him on. He fought at the battle of Sylvan. He's a very clever fellow, and no slouch with the Gifts, either.

  "And as for that thing, as you have so gallantly put it, I have expressed to you on more than one occasion not just how valuable she is, but how much more valuable she may become with the proper training, which I expect you to provide."

  Sela realized they were talking about her. She was that "thing." She had known for a long time, ever since she'd been taken from Lord Tanen and brought to Copperine House, that she was different somehow. Perhaps even special. She even understood why she was "valuable." She had skills: She could read others; she could kill. All of the things that Tanen had brought out in her; those things that she'd tried hard at Copperine House to forget. Now these things determined her worth.

  Tonight she did not want to be different. She wanted to be like anyone else. A pretty blonde-haired girl that Silverdun might see and fall in love with.

  Not a thing.

  "But there is one more piece of information that you do not have, and which I have reserved in anticipation of this very moment."

  "And what is that?" asked Paet, seething with anger. Sela did not need to read a thread to know what Paet was thinking. This was Everess's favorite game: to withhold a vital piece of information, hide it behind his back like a club, and then beat you over the head with it.

  "That I did not choose Silverdun, or Ironfoot, or Sela."

  "No? And who did? Was it Aba's guiding hand? Regina Titania herself?"

  Everess smiled. "The latter, actually."

  Paet's eyes widened. "You expect me to believe that the Seelie queen reviewed your request for personnel and personally selected these three to be Shadows? During her rest period while hearing petitions, perhaps? Or in between drinks at a ball?"

  "I can only tell you what she told me. I went to her to discuss the matter of reopening the Office of Shadow. We spoke briefly, perhaps five minutes. At the end of the meeting, she wrote three names down on a slip of paper and handed it to me."

  "And you are only just now telling me this?" said Paet. "Why?"

  "As you are so fond of telling others, Paet, it was not necessary for you to know."

  Paet seethed.

  "One last point," said Everess, pouring himself another drink. "You accused me of lying to our recruits. Did you not just this evening admit to doing the same thing? I fail to see why you have singled me out for opprobrium on that count."

  "What I did," said Paet, "and will always do is conceal that information which has been deemed classified. That is not quite the same as lying, unless you'd like to spend the rest of the evening arguing the semantics of it. What you have done is deliberately mislead them.

  "Of course you fail to see the distinction. You're so comfortable with falsehood that you can't tell the difference."

  Everess's face had slowly reddened throughout Paet's brief speech. "There is a line I suggest you do not cross, Chief Pact. I allow you to speak to me freely, and not as the commoner you are to the nobleman that I am. But I will only take so much abuse from you."

  "Then I'll add only one more thing, nzy lord," said Paet. "If you ever keep me in the dark about something so critical as the selection of my officers again, there will be hell to pay."

  "I'll take it under advisement," said Everess. "Now, are we quite finished?"

  Paet stood. "For now. Until the next time you find a way to be a thorn in my side. And before you take any more umbrage, be advised that I will speak to you any way I damn well please."

  He strode away and out of Sela's vision. Her heart was racing. She tiptoed back to her room and lay down, willing herself to be calm.

  She had known that Paet and Everess weren't on the best of terms, but now it seemed as though they detested one another. She had never trusted Everess. Did that mean she ought to trust Paet? He was difficult to read, almost closed to her.

  That reminded her of Silverdun's trick during the meeting earlier. How had he managed to shut her out so easily? No one had ever done that to her before. And what had he been thinking when he'd done it?

  There were so many questions, so many puzzles. Just when she thought herself an expert on Fae nature, she realized that she really knew nothing at all.

  Sleep was a long time coming.

  Silverdun's body wanted sleep, but his mind wouldn't allow it. He lay in bed, tossing and turning, the details of the meeting replaying themselves in his head.

  What had he gotten himself into? Could Everess and Paet have been serious? Would they truly toss him back into Crete Sulace if he tried to back out now? When Mauritane was recruiting allies to take with him on his mad mission across Faerie at the queen's behest, he'd told Silverdun more or less the same thing: Go with me or I will kill you. How many of Silverdun's great life choices had been made at knifepoint?

  And Sela. She was beautiful, to be sure. And alluring. There was something almost mystical about her, something mysterious and primal. But there was also something very wrong about her, a hardness, something dark that suggested s
he'd seen things that no one should see. The look in her eyes, at the same time keen and confused, as if she were from another world entirely.

  She had gotten inside his head somehow, using the Gift of Empathy. Silverdun had experienced Empathy; the counselors at Nyelcu all had a bit of it. But this was something different altogether. She hadn't just read his mind; she'd somehow become one with it. When she reached into him, something of her was there with it; they mingled somehow. And what he'd felt of her had been deep and dark, the Inland Sea at night, an endless abyss. The water of her was pure and clear, but what swam beneath its surface chilled him.