First Truth

by Dawn Cook

  “Tell me!” Bailic shouted, grabbing her shoulders and spinning her around.

  “No!” she cried as she bumped the table and the second cup rolled off the edge. Jerking herself free, her hand lashed out to catch it, and with a light thump, it landed in her palm. This one, she vowed, he would not break.

  “Where is it!” Bailic all but screamed.

  There at the balcony, a strange sense of inevitability took her. Her decision was absurdly simple. It made no sense to agonize over it. The alternative was her death. “Down there.”

  “The woods?” he spat, his face turning crimson.

  She shrugged.

  “It’s been under my sight all this time!”

  She shrugged again.

  “Out,” he said, pointing with a trembling finger.

  Alissa numbly slipped the cup into a pocket, and they left. Single file they went down the stairs. The familiar path looked different, as if she was seeing it clearly for the first time. Perhaps the last time. At the doors in the great hall, they paused as Alissa put on her coat. Except for Strell’s dinner in the garden, she hadn’t worn it in weeks, and it was cold and stiff. The laces on her boots were showing the first signs of leather rot, and she gazed down at their sublime ugliness sadly. They had been so grand when she had left home. With a groan, the heavy door opened under Bailic’s insistent pushing.

  A gust of cold air assailed them, and Alissa hunched into her coat. Pulling her hat down, she stepped into the snow, hearing her feet squeak against its coldness. Bailic wrapped his arms about himself and squinted into the brightly lit world. “Show me,” he prompted, grimacing from the sun.

  “This way.”

  In a flurry of sound, Talon appeared in her usual, startling fashion to land upon Alissa’s hastily raised arm. The bird’s head swiveled wildly as she alternatively scanned the skies and glared at Bailic, chittering madly. “Here now,” Alissa crooned. “What has you all atwitter, and how did you get outside?” Alissa’s shutters were latched. Strell must have let her out, she decided as she slowly gentled her bird. It didn’t explain Talon’s frantic state, though. Perhaps she had seen a large hawk or something. Finally the bird allowed Alissa to put her on her shoulder, and with a last frown at Bailic, they started off. He had been pacing and muttering the entire time. It hadn’t helped in the least.

  It was a gloriously sunny afternoon, and after the initial shock of cold, it was warm enough. Well, Alissa thought, she was warm. Bailic was soaked from his knees down, as he had no boots. She gave him credit though. He doggedly kept up, stomping along behind her, never saying a word, clutching his thin housecoat tight. Slowly Alissa pushed her way through the nearly thigh-deep snow, angling to the pines where the snow was only calf-deep. They moved faster once under the chill shade of the trees, and soon they entered the tiny clearing.

  Alissa couldn’t help her small smile as she neared the well. It looked like her backyard at home. The evergreens bent low, heavy with their mantle of snow. White birches rose between them, making a pleasing contrast with the almost-black green of the pines. The dark circle marked the well, and it was here she stopped. She breathed deeply, enjoying the stillness and the spicy scent of pine sap and bark.

  “Here?” Bailic’s shout shattered the peace. “Right under my window?”

  Alissa jumped, startled. “Right under your window,” she mocked, not caring anymore what happened.

  Bailic stiffened. His arm drew back to slap her. Alissa’s chin lifted and her eyes narrowed, daring him to try. It wouldn’t land. She was too fast for him, given enough warning.

  “No,” he whispered, checking his motion. “I have a better idea. Perhaps a—demonstration—is in order.”

  Leaving her to stand by the well, he stepped under the birches and squinted up into the branches. “As I have said,” he murmured, “you’ve lost your healthy sense of fear of me. Cheating death often sends people in one of two directions. You obviously don’t fear it anymore. Pity, it made things so much easier. I can’t say I really care, but this insolent behavior will stop.

  “Ah,” he sighed. “There’s one.” Much to Alissa’s astonishment, Bailic whistled, low and coaxing. High up in the trees came an answering twitter. She watched in astonishment as Bailic persuaded a small black and white seed-eater down, but its merry antics that usually gave her joy, now only filled her with dread.

  “You,” he said, speaking to Alissa, but looking at the bird, “may not fear harm done to yourself, but what of others?” He turned, the bird perched cockily on his milk-white hand. Hearing the warning in his words, a stab of fear iced through her.

  “It’s a trusting little thing, isn’t it?” he said softly. “Not even afraid of its natural enemy on your shoulder.”

  “Don’t do this, Bailic,” Alissa said tightly. “I understand.”

  “Do you?” he said, his eyebrows raised mockingly.

  “Leave it alone. It’s done nothing.”

  “But it has!” His voice was rich in surprise. “It has had the misfortune of becoming important to you.” Unaware of the danger, the bird chirped merrily, his sharp, black eyes piercing hers. “You irk me. I can’t frighten you with harm to yourself. I must find another way.”

  “Bailic,” she implored taking a step closer. “Please, I promise. You’re right. I should have held my tongue. I—I won’t do it again.” Alissa’s eyes began to fill as she stood, helpless. Bailic smiled, appearing to enjoy himself. “Please . . .” she begged, tentatively grasping his sleeve. “I understand. You don’t have to do this.”

  “I know,” he said, smiling tenderly down at her, “but I want to.”

  There was a soft tug on her awareness followed by a bright flash and a small pop. Talon launched herself, and crying, flew away. The small bit of black and white was gone. Bailic’s hand was empty. Not even a feather remained.

  “You’re insane,” Alissa whispered, only now believing what he was capable of, and she took a shaky step back.

  “If you like.” He shrugged lightly. “Next time I will choose a closer target.” His eyes glowed with his loosed desire. “Now, about that book . . .”

  With a soft moan, Alissa turned to the perfect circle that was the mouth of the well. Talon was to be her incentive. She had thought herself safe from him, but she wasn’t. Beginning to shake, Alissa knelt and peered down into the darkness. The damp smell of water reached up to soothe her, and she listened as a single tear fell into its unseen depths. “You didn’t have to burn it,” she whispered.

  I know, her memory recalled, but I want to.

  “The book?” Bailic said harshly.

  Fighting the tears, Alissa lay flat upon the snow-covered ground and ran her fingers over the rough stone walls.

  “Well?” he prompted.

  “Just a moment.” She shifted out farther, searching for anything not feeling like rock. “Ah!” she cried, snatching her fingers back and sticking them in her mouth.

  “What?” Bailic shouted, his shadow suddenly covering hers.

  “Nothing,” she mumbled around her fingers. “Just a sharp stone.” But it wasn’t a stone. It was the book. Stretching, Alissa ran a single digit across the book’s spine. Her eyes shut at the blissful warmth that flowed from her fingers to fill her. From the shattered remains of her tracings, there came an answering response. Her eyes flew open.

  Bailic forgotten, she looked for her tracings. Dark and still, they glowed a pale indigo in the nether place between her thoughts and reality. Crisp and clean the lines stood out, bolder, deeper, and stronger than before. Her blood pounded through her, and her breath grew fast. She was whole! Her tracings were healed!

  “What is it! Have you got it?” Bailic clamored, and her finger slipped free.

  “I think it’s the book,” she lied, sliding out farther.

  “Give it to me!” he demanded.

  “Stop rushing me or I’ll drop it,” she snipped. Then her fingers touched the book again, and she lost herself in the slow warmth of
late summer. “You are mine,” she vowed silently, and with an answering surge of emotion, the book agreed. Softly, the feeling slipped away, and Alissa was left, hanging half in the well, her fingers resting on smooth leather surrounded by the scent of snow and ice.

  “Do you have it?” Bailic cried.

  Sighing, Alissa tugged on the heavy tome, and it slid easily out of its resting spot. Small stones and bits of snow fell plinking into the unseen water below, and she sat up clutching it to her. Wide-eyed, she stared up at Bailic. The memory of the book’s response resounded in her mind, filling her with a deep sense of calm and peace not easily shaken off.

  “Give it to me,” Bailic demanded, extending a thin hand.

  Alissa stiffened, her tranquility shattering. “No.”

  Bailic wiggled his fingers impatiently. “It’s mine by rights. The piper has lost his claim.”

  “It’s Strell I give it to,” she said frantically, postponing the inevitable.

  “I will burn everything you hold dear,” he vowed, taking a heavy step closer.

  “Hold on.” Alissa scrambled up to put the well between them. “Your arrangement was with Strell, not me.”

  “You hide behind details!” he raged. “I will have it now!”

  “We’ll find Strell first.”

  “Now!” he roared, and Alissa felt her muscles stiffen as if she had forgotten how to move. There was a tug on her awareness and she looked at her tracings. Almost she recognized the pattern her tracings took, then the resonance faded. That cartload of sheep dung! she thought. Bailic had put a ward on her. A curious mix of panic and outrage flooded her as she stood there, helpless before him. Almost giggling, Bailic took a step closer.

  A thunderous clap of sound followed by the splintering wood shocked him into immobility. “No!” Bailic cried bitterly, looking skyward. He fell back as a shadow crossed them and was gone.

  Grounded to the spot, Alissa stared at the tremendous shape of what could only be a raku hovering above the trees. With an air-shattering roar, he uprooted first one tree, then another. As he reached for the third, she saw Strell, dangling helplessly from a huge hind claw.

  “Strell,” Alissa whispered, and then, “Strell!” she shrieked, as he appeared lifeless in the raku’s grip. Under Bailic’s ward she could do little more than that as a third tree was ripped from the earth and was tossed to crash in the distance. Clods of dirt and snow rained down, miraculously missing them both. The great beast soon followed, gracefully settling himself in the opening it had torn.

  Her eyes never left Strell as the raku landed upon one foot and supported Strell until his feet again rested on the earth. With a groan she could hear from where she was, Strell collapsed.

  “Stay back, Talo-Toecan!” Bailic screamed. “Or I will burn your precious book to ash—and the girl with it!”

  Talo-Toecan? Alissa thought in confusion. That was the name Bailic had given Useless, but Useless wasn’t a raku— was he? Masters of the Hold were—rakus?

  The beast in question rose up on his haunches, arching his long neck as he roared his frustration at the sky. The sound echoed off the far peaks, making the air tremble with his rage.

  “Hold!” Bailic shrieked. “I’ll do it!” and Alissa felt an arm wrap about her.

  “Strell?” she cried, then cursed herself for sounding so weak.

  “What makes you think I care?” came a voice whose inflections Alissa recognized from her thoughts. Her eyes lifted from Strell, and she would have collapsed if not for Bailic and his ward holding her fast. There, where the raku had stood, was a man.

  “It can’t be,” Alissa whispered.

  “But it is, my dear,” Bailic said, cruelly wrenching her arm, “and you’d better hope he heeds my warning, or you will be as dead as that seed-eater.” He turned back to the raku, or perhaps it was a man. “I still live, Talo,” he shouted. “If I didn’t hold anything of value, I would be dead by now.”

  “True.” Useless frowned, seeming to rethink the situation.

  “I don’t understand,” Alissa complained in a small voice.

  “Listen, girl,” Bailic snarled, “he’s a Master of the Hold. He’s what he wants to be, sired a raku but with the skill to take the form of a man. Don’t let his appearance fool you. He is a beast, and he will kill you with less compulsion than I.”

  Useless a killer? Alissa wondered. No, not the comforting presence that saved her from Bailic’s trance. Useless’s ward had left her burnt and broken, but she had been warned. Her stupidity couldn’t be set at Useless’s feet. Then Alissa remembered the threats that had spilled so easily from her lips the night Useless had answered in her stead. Those hadn’t been idle words. Useless would kill, but not without reason, and reason he had. The deaths of all the Keepers and Masters had yet to be accounted for.

  “Bailic,” Useless sighed tiredly, his curious accent sounding warm and soothing, “it seems we need to talk.”

  “I can hear you from there,” Bailic yelled, “but there’s little with which you have to bargain. Go away. Leave me alone.”

  Grimacing, Useless bent to help Strell rise. “Can you walk yet?” Alissa heard him ask.

  Strell shook his head. His eyes met Alissa’s. The blankness behind his gaze frightened her even more.

  “I can’t leave,” Useless said, his low voice carrying well. “I have already promised to see your end. It would be difficult to break such a promise, even when only made to myself. Your death is assured, Bailic. The most I can do is—postpone it. Besides,” he said, frowning, “what could you possibly concede to me worth your miserable, pathetic, self-absorbed life?”

  The grip Bailic had on her tightened, and she felt him shudder. “The book would be intact,” he shouted raggedly.

  “True.” Half supporting Strell, Useless took a sedate step forward. “I couldn’t rewrite it. Perhaps it’s worth breaking my oath for. Perhaps not. Let’s see what we can agree upon.”

  “I want my life and no interference. And no closer.”

  “Not the book?” Useless rumbled. “I see the girl has possession of it. Can it be that the book isn’t on the table for consideration?”

  “The book is already mine,” Bailic stated smugly.

  Useless’s eyes narrowed. “How do you calculate that?”

  “Ask your student,” Bailic gloated, wrenching her arm again, and she struggled not to cry out, deftly turning her fear to anger so she wouldn’t lose control.

  Useless turned a quiet gaze upon Strell.

  “He’s right.” Strell shot a furtive, guilt-ridden look at Alissa. “The book is his by the solstice or Alissa dies.”

  “How can this be?” the elegant figure said, raising his hands in dismay.

  “I told you it was a costly affair.”

  “Aye, costly. So the only thing I have to bargain with is Bailic’s life.” Useless paused. His fingers drummed together, and Alissa stared. She couldn’t tell for sure, but they seemed to have four segments instead of the usual three.

  “Very well,” Useless admitted sourly. “The book is no longer Strell’s to claim. This I accept.” He looked at Alissa for the first time, and his pale eyebrows arched in amusement. “It matters little, Bailic,” he continued quietly. “You cannot open it.”

  “What’s that?” Bailic shouted in her ear, and Alissa winced.

  “Try,” the figure of a man taunted. He and Strell took a step closer. “I really wish you would. Only a Master, or someone it sets a claim upon, can open it, provided they have enough wisdom to use its lessons. That hasn’t happened in, oh, almost a generation.”

  “No,” Bailic breathed loud enough for only Alissa’s ears, a hairsbreadth away, to hear.

  “Yes, Bailic, and you’re found to be lacking.”

  Behind her, Bailic shifted uneasily. “So where do we stand?” he asked, his voice cracking.

  “Let’s talk. I assure you I won’t kill or maim you—whilst we parley.” Useless left Strell to stand a short distance away.
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  Looking as if his mood were blacker than the inside of a sack, Bailic turned to Alissa. His hands went to snatch the book, and he hesitated. “No,” he whispered, glancing over his shoulder at Useless. “You’d like it if I brought the book that close.”

  Alissa felt a twinge on her awareness, and she was free, stumbling forward to catch herself. Sneaking a peek at her dimly glowing tracings, she noticed which lines were resonating. “Keep hold of my book, girl,” Bailic said shortly. “I won’t risk taking it that close to him.

  “Keep it safe,” he added. “If you lose it to him, you’ll die.” He turned and picked his hesitant way to where Useless waited.

  Alissa opened her mouth to protest, then shut it. With a final huff, she tucked her book under her arm and made her way to Strell, forgotten and alone. “Are you all right?” she asked, peering into his haunted eyes.

  “I don’t know.” He blinked vacantly, standing lopsided in the snow without his coat, his new clothes torn and disheveled. Sniffing, he slumped further in a lost bewilderment.

  Alissa glanced dismally about the ragged clearing. “Come on. Let’s find somewhere to sit.” Clumps of frozen dirt and needles littered the ground making muddy splotches on the snow. “Perhaps on my coat,” she sighed, reaching for the tie.

  “Look,” Strell whispered, and Alissa felt a strong tug on her thoughts. “I wish I knew what was going on,” he said weakly as Alissa turned to see what he was pointing at. Behind her was a rough wooden bench where none had been before. There was even a blanket on it. With a slight start, she realized that Useless must have made it. How, she wondered, had he done that?

  “Really, Talo-Toecan,” came Bailic’s faint sneer. Useless grumbled something back, and Alissa turned away. Strell was beginning to shiver uncontrollably, and she wanted to get him to sit down.

  “Please,” he complained as she took his arm and he leaned heavily on her. “I just want to know what’s going on.”

  “Me too.” Alissa frowned at the two figures arguing nearby. After setting the book carefully aside on the bench, she helped Strell with the blanket. He tugged it up to his ears as if trying to disappear under it, ignoring everything. He was trembling violently, looking white enough to slip into a stupor. Alissa would have liked to have gone back to the Hold, but it was clear they would be staying until their “betters” decided their fate.