Baku should have been frightened; she knew that was the Poppy’s intention, but she felt nothing but anger, hot and furious.
“You did very well. It’s best not to provoke him when you can avoid it.”
“I see.” She did not trouble to hide her scorn.
The Luqs turned and looked at her fully for the first time. His gaze was calculating, but not unfriendly. “How old are you?”
Baku could think of nothing more irrelevant, but she had no reason to refuse an answer. “I have almost fourteen years.”
“Thirteen. Huh. Then I shouldn’t have to tell you what Poppy Shekayrin are best at—and what they aren’t best at. If Pollik Kvar decides you’re not cooperating, he’ll mind-bend you, or whatever it is you people call it. And it’s the Sunflowers who are best at that, not the Poppies. With Poppies, it’s like cutting meat with a hammer, instead of a knife. Do you understand me? It isn’t just that you’ll think and act however he wants you to, it’s that his work is so clumsy it damages your mind, damage that might never be undone. You’d lose your real self forever.”
He waited, but Baku had no idea how to respond. It had been a Poppy who netted her. Was that the explanation of the headache and fogginess? But they were fading now, weren’t they?
“I know it probably goes against the grain to be polite to the man, but at the very least, if you can stay yourself, there’s hope.” His smile at these words was painful to see. “Who knows, Kvar might be reassigned.”
“I thank you for your counsel,” she said as loudly as her tight throat would allow. Never leave the mask behind again, she told herself. Never.
* * *
Whatever furniture had been in the room originally was gone. Three years away from her own military life, Ker still recognized the portable furniture packed and carried by a Battle Wing Faro from camp to camp, ready to be set up in any command tent in any field. Faro Tonia Nast’s desk, chairs, and benches, while just as foldable as any Ker had ever seen, were more expensive, made up of a variety of woods, some of them a dark purple in color, with intricate inlays around the edges of the desk. Matching stools and benches were padded with both leather and silk cushions.
Tonia Nast, Faro of Panthers, sat behind her camp desk, leaning back in the only proper chair, studying a scroll she held unrolled in both hands. Her dark hair seemed more gray-streaked than Ker remembered, but then, she realized with a shock, she hadn’t seen her oldest sister in more than five years. It had been from the tent of her other half-sister Ester, Ruby Cohort Leader of Eagles, that the Halls of Law had taken her when her Talent had been discovered.
“Third Officer, you are out of uniform.”
“Yes, Faro.” Tel didn’t sound worried.
Was it possible? Was that a twitching in the corners of Tonia’s lips? Her blue eyes still scanned the scroll in her hands, and Ker realized that Tonia used it as an excuse not to look up. Not to look at her. Suddenly, her chest felt tight, and Ker blinked. She couldn’t even take Tel’s hand to comfort herself.
“Please elaborate.”
“For the first part of our assignment, we accompanied the Talent High Inquisitor Luca Pa’narion to some contacts of his. He decided we’d be better off wearing civilian clothing.”
“In order not to frighten the ‘contacts,’ or because you weren’t sure who had control of the lands you had to pass through?”
“A little of both, Faro.”
“And you, Candidate?”
Tonia still didn’t look up, but at least now she was speaking directly to her.
“Talent, Faro of Panthers. The Talent High Inquisitor Luca Pa’narion has passed me as a Full Talent.”
At that, Tonia almost looked up. Instead, she frowned, narrowing her eyes to better focus on the scroll. “And you are also not in uniform. For the same reasons?”
“Yes, Faro. As well as the added danger of being captured by the Halians while dressed as a Talent.”
“Understood.” Tonia let the scroll roll shut but chose and opened another without looking up. Ker was developing an itch between her eyebrows, and another between her shoulder blades.
“I have received messengers from the Faro of Bears, telling me that Jerek Brightwing has been acclaimed Luqs, and also of the presence of certain”—her glance flicked up at Tel and back again—“allies, in the mines of the Serpents Teeth. Can either of you confirm this of your own knowledge?” Tonia kept her eyes firm on Tel, who licked his lips and glanced sideways at Ker.
“I confirm both statements,” Ker said.
“Your witness as a Talent?”
“Yes, Faro.” A Talent’s witness held good in any part of the Polity, and in many of their allied or even enemy countries as well.
Now Tonia set down the second scroll and leaned forward until she could put both elbows on the edge of her camp desk. “And I take it that your present assignment involves more than bringing me this confirmation, or any other message from the Faro of Bears?”
“No, Faro. I mean, yes, Faro.” Tel raised one hand and let it fall again without saying anything more.
Tonia waited and when Tel remained silent, she sighed, all the time careful not to look at Ker. “Please tell me what your assignment is.”
“We’ve been sent to a valley in the Duralla mountain range,” Tel said. “We expect to enlist other allies in an assault against the Halians’ Shekayrin.”
One of Tonia’s aides leaned forward and murmured in her ear. She gave a short nod and waved him back. “I am reminded that there is no known valley in the Duralla range. Those mountains are inaccessible. Natives, such as there are, call them ‘The Pillars of the World.’”
Tel shot Ker another glance from under his brows. Your turn, he seemed to be saying. And it was true; anything to do with griffins was more the territory of Talents or Feelers than military people.
“They are not inaccessible to griffins, Faro,” Ker said.
“Griffins?” This time Tonia did look directly at her, if only for a split-second. “You are telling me there are griffins in the Duralla Mountains.”
“That is what we have been told, yes.”
“By some of your new allies?”
“Yes, Faro.” Ker wasn’t sure what made her keep Weimerk’s existence to herself, but in the next few minutes she was glad she did, when a tap at the door revealed as it opened a young soldier, red-faced with annoyance.
“Pardon me, my Faro, but Talent Setasan insists on being admitted.”
Tonia Nast shut her eyes and, without opening them, said, “Then have her enter, by all means.”
The Talent must have been standing right behind the young soldier because she was in the room practically before Tonia finished speaking.
As soon as she saw her, Ker’s heart sank. The Talent was a small woman, shorter than Ker herself, and considerably older; so old, in fact, that Ker would have assumed she’d retired to a permanent Hall long ago. The lines of her face were the kind that showed she scowled a lot and didn’t smile much. Maybe no permanent Hall would accept her.
Ker made sure her flicker of amusement didn’t show on her face.
“Faro Nast, I must protest.” Sure enough, the old woman’s tone revealed a touch of satisfaction that she was able to make a complaint. “Why was I not informed immediately that a Talent had arrived?”
“Evidently, you were informed.” Ker knew her sister well enough to know that Tonia also fought to keep a smile off her face.
“That is not the point. As senior Talent to the Panthers, I should have been present from the start. If I have been correctly ‘informed,’” she said, wrinkling her nose, “the Talent has come from the Peninsula, and therefore has important matters to report.”
“Do you?” Tonia turned to Ker and raised her eyebrows.
“I don’t know,” Ker said. “I wasn’t sent here to report to anyone. In
fact, I wasn’t sent here at all.”
“Nonsense. You must tell me immediately what you know of the events following the Halian invasion. How do the Halls fare?”
This time Ker raised her eyebrows. “And you are?”
The old woman opened and shut her mouth several times. Ker hoped she hadn’t given her a seizure.
“As you have no doubt heard, I am Talent Setasan.” That the old woman introduced herself the old-fashioned way, by her surname only, told Ker all she needed to know.
“I am Talent Kerida,” she said. Instinct told her not to let this woman know that she and Tonia were related. “Though I wasn’t sent here to report to you, I will tell you as a courtesy that all the Halls in the Peninsula have been destroyed.”
Ker couldn’t tell if Setasan got any paler, but the jump of the tiny muscle near the woman’s jaw showed that she’d clenched her teeth.
“All? Even Questin?”
“I saw Questin burning with my own eyes as I fled from the Halians.” Ker swallowed. She’d let the Daughter turn her green before she’d go into details.
“You are a Candidate, then, not a Full Talent.” If ever a tone said “I thought so” this one did.
“I am a Full Talent, examined and passed by the High Inquisitor Luca Fanon Pa’narion.”
More lip pressing. “You saw Questin burning? But you did not see it burned? It may have been saved after you . . . fled.”
Ker might have gone on being polite if it wasn’t for that pause. “Listen, you old hen. Inquisitor Pa’narion saw the place in ruins, burned to the ground and the stones pulled apart. It’s gone: all the teachers, all the books, all the artifacts. Gone.”
The old woman put out her hand to save herself from falling, and Tel stepped forward, catching her by the forearm and elbow. He gave Ker a look that she acknowledged with the slightest of shrugs. She’d had months to come to terms with the loss of the training Hall; this woman had only just learned of it.
After a few minutes Setasan jerked her arm away from Tel without thanking him, and Ker felt less guilty. “Then there are only a few of us left,” the old woman said, half to herself. “The travelers in the outer provinces, and the Talents with the Battle Wings.” She drew herself up. “I shall certainly not allow you to go traipsing around the countryside like this. You are far too valuable to risk in such a way. You will stay with us. I don’t know what Pa’narion was thinking.”
Ker was speechless, but luckily the Faro of Panthers was not. “No doubt he was thinking that as a High Inquisitor, his decisions would be respected, and his orders would be carried out.” Only the blandness of Tonia’s tone kept the words from being a challenge.
“I’m not at all certain that this young Talent has given us an accurate account of Pa’narion’s orders. She should be examined.” As she turned toward Ker, Tel put himself between them. Ker put a calming hand on his shoulder.
This wasn’t something that could worry her. She’d long ago been taught blocks that were impenetrable by any but the most powerful Talent, and if that wasn’t enough, she thought she could use her aura or the jewel to protect her. But she wasn’t going to allow this woman to bully her. Tel’s instinct to protect her was right.
“Talent Setasan can’t examine me without my consent,” she said. “Only the Inquisition can compel other Talents.”
“Nonsense!” Setasan said again. “I am senior to you, and I insist.”
“You are older than I am,” Ker said. “But since we’re both Full Talents, you’re not senior.”
“This is an outrage.” The old woman spoke through clenched teeth, but there was nothing she could do, and everyone knew it. “Then I shall examine the soldier.”
Except for that.
“I’m afraid I couldn’t allow that.” Tonia seemed to be the only one still calm. “He’s not one of my Panthers, and I’d have to answer to the Faro of Bears if I order her Third Officer to submit to examination. After all, what grounds could I give? There’s no criminal case to resolve. There’s nothing here but your curiosity.”
“I see.” The old woman looked them all in the face, as if expecting more defiance. “You will hear more about this, Faro of Panthers.” And she pushed her way out as abruptly as she’d come in.
“I wonder who she thinks she’s going to report me to?” Tonia said. “So,” she added in a much brisker tone. “One Talent and one junior officer are all Juria Sweetwater could spare to find and recruit these . . . griffins?”
“The Bears are low on numbers, and we’ve been quite successful in previous assignments,” Tel answered.
“Of course. It was you who found the Luqs, then?”
“Ker did, yes. That is, Talent Nast.”
The Faro of Panthers nodded, leaning back again in her chair. “You’ve given me much to think about, Third Officer Cursar. I’m not at all convinced I shouldn’t lend you half a Barrack or so to help you keep the Talent safe. In the meantime, see the camp commander for a billet. You will be given a room here, of course, Talent.” Tonia avoided saying her name aloud. At one time, Ker had hoped to be one of the Talents assigned to the Battle Wings. This reminded her why that would never have happened. Between her sisters, some cousins, and two aunts, too many of her family were still in active service.
“If I may, Faro. Third Officer Cursar is my official escort. I would prefer to keep him with me.” And what a Talent preferred was, generally speaking and under the Law, what a Talent got.
“I see. Then he will have to be billeted with you. Unker, see to these arrangements, will you?”
“At once, my Faro.” The junior officer who had whispered in her ear left, closing the door gently behind him.
“That will be all, Third Officer. Talent, thank you for your report and assistance.” This time Tonia looked Ker straight in the face and raised her right eyebrow, while winking with her left eye. She was the only one in the family who could do both simultaneously, and Ker used to beg her to do it whenever Tonia was home on leave, it gave such a comical cast to her sister’s otherwise solemn face. For Tonia to do it now sent a rush of warmth right through Ker’s body. Her sister had acknowledged her in the most discreet yet tender way. Ker felt just as she had as a child. That everything would be all right.
* * *
• • •
“How do you know she’ll come?” Tel asked, from where he’d sprawled on the bed. They’d been given a simple cell, suitable for any traveling Talent carrying only a pack of clothing. A cot had already been added to the room, so they hadn’t turfed out just one officer, but two.
“Because she’s right outside the door.” Ker got to her feet. Now for the real meeting.
The latch lifted, and Tonia Nast entered the room, barefoot despite the cold, and dressed in an old shirt and loose trousers—exactly the kind of thing Ker could remember her sister sleeping in at home. Tel was on his feet so fast Ker hadn’t seen him move.
Tonia smiled at her; without knowing she meant to, Ker threw her arms around her and buried her face in her sister’s neck. Tonia smelled of lavender, and the scent brought back enough memories that Ker had to blink back tears. Finally, she stepped away, though her sister kept her hands resting on Ker’s shoulders.
“Well, little cat.” Tonia cleared her throat, and this time Ker blinked faster. Her older sisters had called her “little cat” since she started walking. “Mother and Daughter both must be smiling on us.”
“Is there any news?”
Tonia’s face stiffened and relaxed so quickly Ker couldn’t be sure she’d seen it. “The last I heard, our father and grandmother were well, and your mother was well and busy.” Ker’s mother was their father’s second wife. “But that was months ago. And of Ester . . .” Tonia fell silent.
Ker nodded. There hadn’t been any news of surviving Eagles since the Halians had overrun the Peninsula. “Do you have anythi
ng that belongs to them? A lock of hair or . . .” Ker’s voice died away as Tonia shook her head.
“Could you Flash something from such a thing?” she asked. “Your Talent must be Griffin Class, then.” Tonia smiled. “‘Nasts are always in the first rank.’” Ker laughed. Tonia’s imitation of their grandmother was perfect.
“You going to tell people you were sleepwalking?” Ker said, still smiling. “Where’s your escort?”
Tonia sat on the bed, pulling Ker down next to her, and linking arms. “While it’s true that a Faro is never— technically—alone, who can stop me wandering around my own camp if I feel like it? And which of the people who share my quarters would be surprised if I visit my sister the Talent, while she’s in said camp, under my roof, and in the middle of the night when everyone can claim to be asleep?”
“The Talents would know.” And that old woman would love to find her breaking the rules.
“My people are prepared to face that, but what Talent will ask them? After all, it’s you who’ll get into trouble with your superiors for talking to me.” Tonia tilted her head to look sideways at Tel where he stood by the door. “And you vouch for this soldier.”
It hadn’t really been a question, but Ker answered it all the same. “I do.”
Tonia looked from her to Tel and back again, eyebrows lifted. “So, there really are Feelers, and there really is a griffin.” Tonia shook her head, half-grinning, clearly not expecting an answer. “We live in the age of myths, apparently.” She looked sharply at Tel and then back to Ker. “I take it this is not general knowledge among Bears?”
“The full extent of the Feelers’ Gifts isn’t completely known, no,” Ker said. “As far as the soldiers are concerned, we’ve been emphasizing the Gifts that have an obvious military application: Lifting, or Moving as some of us call it, and Far-seeing.”
Gift of Griffins Page 12
