Raven Ring

by Patricia C. Wrede

“How do you know that?” Daner demanded.

  “Family records.” Karvonen gave Daner his most irritating smile. “I’d offer to show them to you, but I haven’t got them with me, and besides, they’re strictly confidential.”

  Climeral shook his head. “Even if you are correct about the past enmity between the Cilhar and the Shadow-born, I don’t think we should assume, on the strength of an admittedly flawed card chart, that—”

  “I’m not assuming anything,” Eleret broke in. “That’s why I’m here. I wanted to ask you if you know a way to find out for certain whether there’s a Shadow-born at the bottom of things or not. One way or another, I’d like to know.”

  “Ah.” Climeral’s expression cleared. “I think I know how to reassure you. A scrying spell—and if I can find a deck of cards, I’ll use one as the secondary enhancer. I wonder…”

  “Nijole has a deck,” Daner said. “I asked her about charts last year, when my sisters started getting interested, and she brought them out to demonstrate a proper, full-fledged chart spell.”

  “Good. I’ll borrow them as soon as we’re done here.” Climeral looked at Eleret. “Two questions, I think you said. The second is…?”

  “It’s about Ma’s ring. Daner may have mentioned it—”

  “Not specifically. He said the shapeshifter who attacked you appeared to be trying to obtain an item that had belonged to your mother, but he didn’t go into details. I assume the ring is the source of your difficulties?”

  Eleret nodded, pleased that Daner had, for once, been as discreet as she would like. “We think so. It seems to have some magical properties—”

  “Seems to—hah!” Daner flexed his fingers. “It bounces spells better than a Major Ward. My hands are still stinging.”

  “What were you trying to do?” Karvonen asked. “Paralyze her? Melt her weapons? Turn off the magic she doesn’t have? Or—”

  “If you must know, I cast a spell to see whether she was the shapeshifter,” Daner said. “Can we get on with things?”

  “You were the one who interrupted,” Karvonen pointed out. “Twice.”

  “The ring also…warns me, sometimes,” Eleret said to Climeral. Briefly, she explained what she knew of the ring’s history and summarized her own experiences with it. “I’m hoping you can tell me more, or at least untangle what we know already.”

  “I can certainly try,” Climeral said. “May I examine it?”

  Eleret twisted the raven ring so that the stone was no longer hidden against her palm, then rose and held out her hand to Climeral.

  “Be careful,” Daner said. “I tried to analyze it last night, and it threw the spell back at me before I’d even finished casting it.”

  “Mmmm.” Climeral bent over the ring, his green eyes narrowed to slanted slits. “Probably a reflection spell. Varnan wizardry, you said?”

  “It could be, but I don’t know for certain,” Eleret replied. “My multi-great-grandmother, Geleraise Vinlarrian, came from Varna, and the ring was hers.”

  “It would explain Daner’s difficulties. If I might look at the ring more closely—”

  As Climeral reached for her hand, Eleret pulled it back. The Shee Adept stopped at once and gave her an inquiring look. “I’d rather not take the ring off,” Eleret said.

  “I believe I understand.” Climeral straightened. “If it’s Varnan work, there’ll be a mark on the inside of the ring behind the stone. Perhaps you’d prefer to look for it yourself.”

  Reluctantly, Eleret pulled off the raven ring. As she peered into the circle, she realized that it was the first time the ring had been off her finger since she had picked up her mother’s kit from Commander Weziral. Her hand felt bare without it, as if she were going weaponless. Tamm’s ring—is this how Ma felt without it? Is that why she took it with her to the Emperor’s wars? Eleret blinked and shook away the thought, then forced herself to focus on the ring. “I think there used to be something here, but it might be just a scratch. It’s very worn.”

  Climeral smiled. “Varnan markings don’t depend solely on physical features. If you will hold the ring a little higher … Thalana mec ticna!”

  Just above Eleret’s palm, an image formed in the air, small but crystal-clear—a four-pointed silver star, crossed by a slim, double-edged sword with a plain hilt. Karvonen made a choking noise; Daner started, then turned to Climeral and said, “How did you do that without getting knocked halfway across the room, if I may ask?”

  “By casting a general spell, rather than one aimed specifically at the ring or at Freelady Salven.” Climeral looked almost smug. “Also, I wasn’t fighting the ring’s magic—Varnan markings are meant to be seen, under the right conditions.”

  “So you provided the conditions,” Eleret said. The image was fading, but she held her hand steady until it had completely disappeared. Then, with an unaccountable feeling of relief, she slipped the raven ring back onto her finger. “Now we know that it’s Varnan work.”

  “We may know more than that, if we can find out something about the mark.” Climeral crossed to a small brass handle set in the wall and pulled. In the distance, something chimed; a few moments later Prill appeared in the doorway.

  “Prill, I need a reference scroll from the library—the one that lists the marks that Varnan wizards used,” Climeral said. “Bring it to my office; I don’t think we’re going to get any more done here today. And if you see Nijole, ask her to bring her charting cards as well.” He glanced around and smiled. “In the meantime, may I offer you some refreshments?”

  “We’d be honored,” Eleret said for them all.

  TWENTY-THREE

  THE NEXT HOUR WAS not nearly so orderly as Climeral’s plans had made it sound. Prill and the scroll arrived at the same time as did a skinny boy carrying a tray of glass mugs filled with a hot, herb-scented drink. While Climeral scanned the scroll, Prill handed the mugs around. Before she finished, Climeral asked for two books and another scroll. These appeared along with the librarian, who was plainly displeased by Climeral’s departure from normal procedures. Climeral was in the middle of soothing the annoyed librarian when a tall, dark-skinned woman entered and demanded to know what foolishness Climeral was wasting time on now, and didn’t he realize that some people had work to do? This prompted an outburst from the librarian and an argument from Daner, during which someone managed to upset one of the mugs over Climeral’s desk. Prill snatched up the scrolls barely in time to keep them from being drenched, and the argument spread to nearly everyone as accusations, denials, and reassurances flew.

  Finally, somehow, peace and order were restored. The librarian left; the tall woman, after another minute’s discussion, pulled a small silver case from her pocket and handed it to Climeral. “Don’t let them get wet,” she said as she turned and left the room.

  “I’ll watch out for them, Nijole,” Prill called after her. She turned and looked at Climeral. “If you’re going to do a chart, Adept—”

  “One thing at a time,” Climeral said. “We were looking for that maker’s mark—ah, yes.” He set the silver case carefully to one side, then picked up the two books the librarian had brought in. Having given the first to Daner, he offered the other to Eleret.

  Eleret shook her head. “I’m afraid I won’t be any help with that. I’m no scholar.”

  “It doesn’t take a scholar to skim historical summaries,” Daner said, looking up with a puzzled frown.

  “Only lots and lots of patience’ Prill put in. “Some of them are so boring—” She caught Climeral’s eye and subsided.

  “You misunderstand,” Karvonen said to Daner in a smug tone. “What she means is that she doesn’t read Ciaronese.” With a faint smile, he held his hand out to Climeral, who nodded and handed him the book.

  “I—” Daner stopped and looked at Eleret, who nodded. Then he shifted uncomfortably and looked down at his book. “I’m sorry, Eleret. I didn’t realize.”

  “It’s not important,” Eleret said. Daner was acting
as if he had accused her of misinterpreting a battle map.

  “Ah!” said Climeral suddenly and with great satisfaction. Smiling, he glanced up from the scroll, which he had appropriated for himself. “I believe I have it. Four-pointed star, crossed moonwise—that’s from left to right—by a sword, simple, hilt down: maker’s mark for Dara kay Larrian, registered in the fall of 1241 at the main League Hall in Ryshavey. Extremely rare; known pieces are minor work but highly specialized.”

  “That isn’t much help,” Eleret said.

  “On the contrary. It tells us a great deal.” Climeral turned the scroll sideways. “And there appears to be a later note in the margin—” He squinted at the faded letters, then read, “Pieces include Twis’s Armband and the Serolissin pin. See the Dark Men Compendium for full descriptions.’”

  “Back to the library,” Prill said, pushing away from the wall with a sigh. “I’ll only be a few minutes.”

  “No need,” Climeral said. “We haven’t got a copy. Imle borrowed ours because she has a particular interest in the subject and the Lesser Fraling school where she’s stationed is too minor to have a copy of its own. I sent the scroll to her last month; it’ll be six months more before her students have finished lettering and she can send it back.”

  “So we’re in a blind canyon,” Eleret said. “And even if you had the scroll, it wouldn’t tell us anything about my ring, just that pin and armband.”

  “We don’t require the scroll,” Climeral said. “I told you, I looked it over only last month. And no, I don’t remember the Larrian pieces specifically, but the mere fact that they’re discussed in the Dark Men Compendium tells us something.”

  “It may tell you something,” Daner said, “but my net’s as empty as ever.”

  “I bet I can guess.” Karvonen looked at Eleret, his face stiff. “I bet the Dark Men Compendium is all about Shadow-born.”

  “Goodness,” said Prill. “Is that what all this is about? No wonder everyone’s jumpy.”

  “Oh, not Shadow-born again,” Daner said. “Really—”

  “How did you guess?” Climeral asked Karvonen with considerable interest.

  “The Wyrds call Shadow-born ‘the Dark Men,’” Karvonen said. “Under the circumstances, it wasn’t difficult.”

  “And how do you know what the Wyrds call Shadow-born?” Daner demanded. “No, let me guess—‘family connections’ again.”

  Karvonen stared at Daner for a moment, a picture of wide-eyed, innocent astonishment. “I’d hate to have to admit that you’re right.” He smiled. “So I won’t.”

  “You’re almost as bad as Nijole,” Prill told Karvonen.

  “Shadow-born,” Eleret said, and swallowed. “So my ring does have some connection with them.”

  “I suppose you could put it that way,” Climeral said. “Opposition is, after all, a kind of connection.”

  Opposition?”

  “The Dark Men Compendium is not exactly ‘all about Shadow-born’; it is more limited in scope. To be precise, it is a catalog of various strategies, spells, and items that have been used effectively against them at various times. It includes nearly everything, from Elasien’s Silver Tree and the Harp of Imach Thyssel to—well, to things like Twis’s Armband.”

  Eleret’s heart lifted; then she shook her head. “But the raven ring isn’t on the list.”

  “Varnan wizards, with very few exceptions, tended to specialize,” Climeral said. “If Dara kay Larrian made two pieces that work against Shadow-born—and work well enough to be included in the Compendium—then I doubt that her third has no relevance to Shadow-born at all.”

  “Yes, and I can think of at least two reasons why it might not have been included.” Daner looked at Climeral. “You said the Dark Men Compendium only included things that have worked against Shadow-born. If the ring was made but never actually used—”

  “Then it would not appear on the list,” Climeral said, nodding. “And your second possibility?”

  “That the ring was a family secret and the author of the Compendium didn’t know about it.”

  “I thought you were going to say that maybe they tried it and it didn’t work,” Prill put in.

  “That is unlikely,” Climeral said. “An unsuccessful test would almost certainly have destroyed the ring, in which case we wouldn’t be worrying about it now.”

  Daner turned to Eleret. “Your great-great-grandmother, who brought the ring into your family—she was Varnan, wasn’t she?”

  Eleret nodded. “Geleraise Vinlarrian—Vinlarrian! Do you think she was related to the wizard who made the ring?”

  “Why not? It makes as much sense as the rest of this business.”

  “My, you’re cranky today,” Prill said. “I suppose it’s because you didn’t get enough sleep. Nijole says that’s the usual reason, when people get snappish.”

  “Either maintain a suitable discretion, or attend to some of your work elsewhere, Prill,” Climeral said.

  “That means ‘Hush up or leave,’” Prill said with an unrepentant grin. “But I promised Nijole I’d look after her cards, so—”

  “Have you any objection to her presence, Freelady?” Climeral asked.

  Eleret considered. Her instincts still cried for secrecy, but she had to admit that there were already far too many people involved for her business to stay secret long. One more would make little difference, and she had decided earlier that the islanders were trustworthy. She shook her head.

  “I don’t object, Adept.” Eleret looked at Prill. “But you should know that this may be dangerous. Not just watching, but—”

  “Talking about it after?” Prill said. That’s all right. I can keep my tongue tied if I have to.”

  Climeral raised an eyebrow. “Then prove it by being silent.” He turned to Eleret. “We have learned all we can from these.” He waved at the books and scrolls. “If you are agreeable, I think it is time to proceed to the next stage.”

  “You mean the scrying spell you mentioned earlier?” Eleret hoped she did not sound as nervous as she felt. Owning a ring of unknown magical properties was one thing, having a Shee wizard cast spells for her was something else again. It seemed…presumptuous. He offered, Eleret reminded herself. I asked for information, that’s all. He was the one who started talking about spells. It didn’t help. For the first time, she thought she understood Karvonen’s attitude toward wizards, at least a little. But it was the only way to find out what she needed to know… “What do you want me to do?”

  “Stand here.” Climeral gestured toward the near side of his desk. “Daner, have you ever assisted a scrying? Well, you’re about to get a bit of practice. Prill, take these scrolls, please.”

  “Ah, if I’m in the way, I’d be quite happy waiting in the hall,” Karvonen said.

  “No, you’re fine where you are. Just try not to distract any of us during the spell.” Climeral reached down and from somewhere under the desk he brought out a small wooden box. Opening it, he removed four teardrop-shaped stones, each a different color. These he placed on the corners of the desk—red, white, blue, and green.

  Daner blinked, then frowned slightly. “I didn’t think scrying spells were supposed to be warded. Won’t the wards interfere?”

  “Not if they are carefully done, and focused outward,” Climeral said. “And I would never consider working without wards when there’s a good possibility that Shadow-born are involved.” He snapped the lid of the box closed and bent to put it away.

  “You’re really taking these Shadow-born seriously.” There was a hint of uncertainty in Daner’s voice. “Even if they are real, they can’t possibly be as awful as the stories make them.”

  “Want to bet?” Karvonen said.

  Climeral straightened and laid both hands on the desk, palms down. He looked at Daner, his face expressionless. “If you refuse to recognize a threat, you cannot begin to deal with it. Since it is through my actions that you are involved in this matter, it is my responsibility to see that you
recognize the threat. We will discuss this after I have finished the scrying for Freelady Salven.”

  “If you insist, Adept,” Daner said stiffly.

  “I do insist, Lord Daner.” There was a brief, uncomfortable silence. Then Climeral went on. “First, however, we have the scrying spell to perform.” He looked at Eleret. “There will actually be three spells: a protective ward, a spell for the cards, and the scrying itself. Since your ring is Varnan in origin, it would be unwise to use it as a scrying focus. The protective spells the Varnan wizards used are powerful and long-lasting. Thus the cards become more important. It would be…helpful if you laid out the chart yourself, as it will connect the spell more clearly to you and your ring.”

  “I’ll do whatever is necessary,” Eleret replied. “But I don’t know anything about card-charting.”

  “I will direct you.” Climeral turned to Daner. “Will you hold the wards after I set them? Use the technique I showed you this morning; it will be good practice.”

  Daner nodded.

  “Very well, then. We begin.” Climeral closed his eyes briefly, then lifted his hands and gestured, almost too swiftly to be seen. “Lithkatri mec cebarat, ri becvaro lithsavar. Katri a!”

  The four stones on the corners of the desk began to glow. Climeral gestured again, and the glow grew stronger, spreading out from each of the stones like ripples in water. In an instant more, the arcs of light met and fused. The four colors melted into a single, golden radiance that expanded until it brushed the ceiling and the walls, surrounding the onlookers with shimmering light.

  “The wards are raised,” Climeral said. “Lord Daner, please take over monitoring them.”

  “Flashy, aren’t they?” Karvonen muttered.

  Silently, Eleret agreed. If this was typical of protective magic, she was not surprised that her father disdained it. It made her think of the castles the Syaski used—maybe you were safe inside, but your enemies knew right where to look for you. All they had to do was wait for you to come out. Nobody ever won a war with a brilliant defense, her mother’s voice said in her memory. Not the kind of war we’re fighting, anyway.