Black Kath turned to leave.
WE ARE NOT DONE.
Kath looked at Amaet almost eagerly. "A command? I'd welcome the chance to reduce Marta's legacy."
Amaet laughed then. REDUCE? NAY, I PROPOSE TO INCREASE IT. I HAVE SOMETHING TO SELL.
"What could you possibly offer that I would want enough to do that?" Black Kath asked bitterly.
There was no kindness in Amaet's beautiful smile. HOPE.
Kath shook her head, slowly. "I am dying, Amaet. What use is hope to me now?"
IT IS NOT FOR YOU.
Black Kath didn't speak for several long moments. It was Amaet who finally broke the silence. YES, I CAN SEE THAT I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION NOW. WELL?
"What do you want in return?"
A SERVICE. IF I CANNOT HAVE WORSHIP FROM MARTA I WILL HAVE ONE GREAT SERVICE FROM HER INSTEAD.
Kath knew the answer before she even asked the question, but hope would not let her keep silent. "I am not dead yet, Amaet. I can do this thing for you instead. What is it?"
YOU TRIED ONCE AND FAILED. NOW YOUR TIME IS DONE, BLACK KATH. YOU ARE TIRED AND SPENT, WORN OUT LIKE A PILGRIM'S SHOE.
It may have sounded like an insult, but it wasn't—it was simple truth. Black Kath brushed it aside. "Yes, I failed. What makes you think Marta will succeed?"
PERHAPS I HAVE HOPE OF MY OWN. AS FOR THE OTHER MATTER...STRANGE. IT'S MY OPINION THAT YOU HAVE NEVER FAILED AT ANYTHING, BLACK KATH. THERE HAVE BEEN TIMES, HOWEVER, WHEN YOU CHOSE NOT TO SUCCEED.
Kath smiled grimly. If she only knew. All she said was, "If you have an accusation to make, then do so."
As she had done once before, many years ago, Amaet gave Kath a vision. Masks floated in the air of the grotto. Kath counted them. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. The glow from Amaet herself cast shadows through their empty, hollow eyes. As the masks floated, another began to appear. Nebulous. Unreal. But possible. Potential. So easy to give form and substance. To give power.
Eight.
Kath shook her head. “No, Amaet. Not so long as there is breath in my body.”
Which, Kath knew, would not be for much longer. Amaet had not given up her scheme, even now. It was too much. "Even if I could do what you want, I would not. You still seek to destroy the balance that holds this world together!" Kath shouted, trying, one last time, to make Amaet see reason. "Even a Power should not speak of such things!"
GREAT RISK FOR GREAT GAIN. I WILL DO AS I HAVE SAID. THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN DO ABOUT IT.
Not much. But not nothing, Black Kath thought. She asked another question. She had a feeling that Amaet would answer this one, coin or no coin. That was Amaet's privilege. It was also, Kath feared, her pleasure. "What if Marta refuses, or fails at the final step as I did?"
THEN, UNLIKE YOU, SHE WILL DIE IMMEDIATELY. I WILL SEE TO THAT. MY PATIENCE HAS LIMITS.
"You ask too much, Amaet."
PERHAPS. WILL MARTA REFUSE ME, DO YOU THINK? WOULDN'T IT BE BETTER WITH JUST A BIT OF HOPE?
Kath didn't know. She wanted to, and Amaet was all too aware of that. She knows me. She's won more times than not, with that. Damn her.
"Very well. What is this ‘hope’ you offer?"
IF MARTA IS WILLING AND ABLE TO PERFORM THIS SERVICE FOR ME, ONCE THE GREAT MATTER IS SETTLED SHE WILL BE FREE.
Black Kath frowned. "You increase the Debt over this?! That is no more or less than what you offered me!"
Amaet shrugged. AND MY GIFT IS THAT THE OFFER STILL STANDS. THE CHOICE WILL BE MARTA'S TO MAKE. THAT IS SOMETHING LIKE FREEDOM, YES?
Kath nodded. Yes. Something very vaguely and remotely like freedom. At least, to Amaet's way of thinking.
"Goodbye, Amaet," was all she said. In another moment she was alone. Kath left the Grotto, but she did not go back into the Shrine. She was just too weary to deal with Aleeta again. All she could think about was Marta. Kath had waited too long, where Marta was concerned. There were reasons and she had meant well, but she had been wrong, she knew that now, and Kath did not think there would be enough time to make things right. Not for Marta, and not even for herself.
Forgive me, daughter. I have no right to ask, but I will ask just the same. Forgive me...
Kath picked her way carefully through a rubble-strewn gap between the rock wall and the Shrine, using her walking stick several times to avoid falling. She finally emerged from behind the Shrine and made her way back out to the Gate. Bone Tapper was perched there, his black feathers standing out sharply against the snow on the top lintel.
The raven called down to her. "He's still lurking about." If Bone Tapper intended to comment on Black Kath's choice of exits, one look at the expression on her face must have dissuaded him. "I can still send Treedle to take care of it," was all he said.
"I imagine that service could weigh heavily against his debt," Kath said, "but, knowing Treedle, it will weigh even heavier against him. I will not ask this."
"He does lack a certain taste for blood," Bone Tapper said, as he fluttered down to her shoulder. "Perhaps it will not be necessary to be so...final."
"You told the man to go, and he would not. You told him we know his intent, and yet he waits our return. Is the man insane?" Kath asked.
The raven seemed to consider the question very seriously. "If the word means anything, then yes, I think he is."
"Then his life is not in my hands. Let's go."
Kath wasn't halfway back down the narrow trail when the man appeared out of a crevice in the rocks. His clothes were of good quality but much worn and ill-kept. His black hair was uncombed, and his beard had seen neither razor nor shears in months. That didn't mean he lacked a razor, by any means. He held it in his right hand, but it wasn't gripped for shaving.
"Black Kath of Lythos," he said blissfully. "At last I've found you."
"Since you took great pains to arrange it, I think it unlikely you could have lost me. What do you want?"
His eyes were fixed on her as if she were the only fire in a blizzard. "You know what I want."
Kath nodded. "You want to kill me."
"Of course," he said, and freshened his grip on the razor.
"May I ask why?"
He frowned then. "You dare ask? Why would anyone seek to kill those who hold the Powers in fetters? Nay, name those rather who would not. Don't speak foolishness, nor take me for a fool. We understand each other, oh yes."
"Ah. You think I command Amaet against her will. And you do worship her, don't you?" Black Kath took one step back up the trail.
The man frowned, and advanced one step himself. "You can't run from me."
"One step is not running," Kath said, calmly. "Neither is this." She took one more careful backward step. "You didn't answer my question."
"Amaet? I worship her more than life itself," the man said.
"Good."
Black Kath reached out with her walking stick and tapped the side of the mountain, right at the spot she'd passed earlier and worked her way back two steps to reach. In that instant a chunk of rock larger than the two of them together broke loose directly beside the would be assassin. He barely had the time to glance in surprise and horror at what was bearing down on him before the stone flipped over the edge and took him with it. In a moment all that was left to remind Black Kath and the raven of his presence was a high pitched scream that lasted for several long seconds before ending rather abruptly in the ravine below.
"Go with Amaet," Kath said, without a trace of sarcasm, or emotion of any other kind.
Bone Tapper ruffled his feathers. "And they call ravens cold blooded."
Kath strode past the broken rock without another glance. "How many chances did we give that poor deluded fool, Bone Tapper? And do you really think he would have believed the truth if he’d heard it? No. He had his own truth. Mine is that I do what I have to. I'd advise you to remember that."
"I'm unlikely to forget," the raven said, peering down into the distant haze. “Your reminders do tend to get a person's attention."
Bone Tapper seemed to know that a comment was neither required nor welcome. He perched in demure silence on Black Kath's shoulder until they reached the welcome campfire waiting for them down in the valley.
CHAPTER 2
"The difference between a Power and a Deity is mostly prescriptive. You worship a Deity. With a Power, you negotiate."
— Black Kath's Tally Book
It was the evening of Marta's seventeenth birthday. She sat before the fire in her mother's hearth and ordered the flames to dance.
Black Kath sat at her table a few steps away, enjoying the warmth of the fire on her old bones but not really expecting anything else of it. She'd been writing intently in her accounts book a few moments before, when Marta's disagreement with the flames got her attention, and she put her quill aside. The raven on her shoulder seemed content to doze and took no notice of either of them. Black Kath started to peel an apple.
"Daughter, why did you do that?" she asked.
Marta turned her face away from the fire. It was a lovely face; Black Kath had noted that fact with some concern a long time ago. A lovely face indeed, framed by hair only a shade yellower than the red of the fire itself. A face that was going to be trouble for Marta, sooner or later. No help for that, Black Kath knew. She tried to be what help to her daughter that she could.
"I wanted the flames to dance," Mara said simply. "So I told them to. I waited till Bone Tapper was asleep; I didn't feel like listening to his insolence."
"Bone Tapper is what he is, as are flames. Flames already dance. By their nature they can do little else. I rather admire them that; there are far worse ways to spend a brief life than dancing." Kath's own time for dancing was long past. She winced. The pain was back in her chest; she knew what it meant. Marta would know soon enough. Black Kath was sad about that, but only a little. There was too much yet to be done, and Kath had begun far too late. "Marta, lambkin, if you know they dance, why did you tell them to do it? Isn't that rather like telling a snowflake to be cold?"
"I wanted a pavane," Marta said. "Something with a little form and dignity. They just leap about."
"I see. And the flames' leaping, that offends you?"
Marta reddened. "You've been so quiet lately, and when you choose to speak you're mocking me! You could make them do it."
Her mother thought about it. "I suppose."
Kath looked at the fire. She said nothing. She did not wave her hands or command. Yet in a moment the wild flames were suddenly chastened. They separated into two lines with but a spark separating a crown of fire on each side, as if the flames were holding hands. They processed side by side to unheard music. After several long moments Kath yawned as if losing interest and the flames settled back to their former chaos.
Marta stared at the fire long after the flames reverted to nature. There was a tear in the corner of one eye. "Mother, why won't you teach me? I want to learn!"
It's too late to lead you, daughter. I will have to goad instead.
"Daughter, why won't you learn? I want to teach you."
"You're mocking me again!"
Kath finished peeling the apple and sliced it neatly in half. "No, I am not mocking you. I really would like to know. Have you been listening to anything I've said for the past seventeen years? What are the Seven Laws of Power?"
"How can I tell you that? You've never told me!"
Kath sighed. "You are my darling daughter and I love you dearly, but you are a trial. First of all, I can no more teach you the Seven Laws of Power than I can teach your heart to beat. Second, I didn't ask you for a sodding list! I asked you what they were."
Marta blushed again, but her mouth set in a firm line. "The Seven Laws of Power are the well from which a sorceress draws her art. A hedge witch might know one or two. A true sorceress would know all seven."
"Almost accurate, but not quite. Never mind that now. There's one thing I can teach you, Marta, so please learn: the Seven are not keys to power. They simply reflect the power and understanding you already have."
Marta looked away. "I have no power or understanding. That's the problem."
"No, the problem is that you're too full of anger and self-pity to hear yourself think." Black Kath handed her daughter half the apple. "Eat this. You're too thin. So was I, at your age."
"Thin, or too full of anger and self-pity?" Marta took the apple half and bit off a large chunk. She chewed sullenly.
Black Kath sighed. "Both."
"So tell me: what did your mother do about it?"
Black Kath laughed gently. "What I'm doing now. First, she made me eat something. Then she gave me this."
Her mother reached around her neck and removed the silver pendant she wore there and handed it to Marta. Marta studied the silver emblem; it was an arrow bisecting a circle. The nock and the point of the arrowhead just touched the edge of the circle.
"It's a nice piece of jewelry," Marta said. "But I don't understand; what has it to do with the Laws of Power?"
"You do keep to the point, Marta, as best you understand it. That's good. You don't understand the point very well, however, and that's not so good. You think this is just a piece of jewelry?"
Marta frowned. "Isn't it?"
"It's the symbol of the Arrow Path. The Arrow Path is not the only way to acquire the Seven Laws, but it's the way I chose, and my mother before me."
"Does this have anything to do with a 'debt' you keep mentioning?"
"Not 'a' debt. The Debt. A Power called Amaet established the Arrow Path. Those who follow it owe her debt service, just as Treedle and Bone Tapper serve me. When I die you will inherit the Debt, Arrow Path or no."
"That hardly seems fair," Marta said.
"It's not, lambkin. The Powers aren't interested in fair, and Amaet less than most. Please remember that; it's important."
Marta considered this. "Why are you telling me this now?"
"I had hoped to never have to tell you at all." Kath held up her hand and Marta, about to protest, fell silent again. Kath nodded. "You who want flames to dance for you will not understand why. Neither did I when I was your age, but that doesn't matter now. You've turned seventeen, and it's time to choose. If you choose the Arrow Path, you might find what you need to bear the Debt. Perhaps...perhaps even to repay it, which I could not. I hope so. What happens now is up to you as your will and the fates decree."
"Is it magic?"
"The pendant? It's a symbol, and that's much more powerful. The Arrow Path itself is magic, at least in one important respect: it gives you the ability to recognize a Law of Power when you find one. That's not a gift, by the way. It's a service that is owed to you under the terms of the Debt. The arrowhead touching the circle represents the beginning of a journey that has no end. Do not undertake this lightly."
"I don't understand, Mother. If this way leads to the Seven Laws, won't that be the end of the journey?"
Black Kath shook her head. "The Seven Laws are not the end, Marta. You won't see that now; I didn't. Nor do you have to understand. All you have to do is decide."
"What lies beyond the Seven Laws?"
"I don't know. Perhaps you'll find out; I never did."
Marta hesitated, but only for a moment. She hung the pendant around her neck.
"How does it feel?" her mother asked.
"Heavier than I thought. Yet it feels...right. Good. Like an old ache that's finally gone away."
"When you get to be my age, then speak to me of 'old aches,'" Kath said.
"What now?" Marta asked.
The door of the kitchen creaked open. Black Kath's servant hob, Treedle, stuck his homely face into the room. "Mistress, you have a visitor."
"There's your answer, Marta. Life goes on. The world turns and events unfold. Just like before. If there's a difference, you'll have to make it yourself." The Powers know there's little enoug
h I can do for you now. She turned to the hob. "That will be a messenger from King Alian, yes? Ask him to wait for a moment and I'll see him. Fetch him a goblet if he's so inclined."
Treedle nodded and closed the door softly. Marta didn't bother to ask how her mother knew who was at the door; that was one of the least of what she had seen over the years.
Kath poked the sleeping raven. "Get off, you lazy thing!"
The raven croaked once, blinked, and then hopped down to the table. It eyed the apple peelings Kath had left there, and then ignored them. "You interrupted a very lovely dream," he said.
"I'll do more than that if you leave a mess on that table. I have a guest to see now, but I think you should prepare yourself for a journey."
"Delighted," said the raven, clearly not delighted at all.
In a very short time Kath was back, accompanied by a young man with long blonde hair and a self-important air. "The Queen's pregnancy is proving to be a difficult one; she's ill and there's fear for the babe she's carrying. I am sent for," she said.
"You're not a midwife, Mother," Marta said. "And you just got back from Karsan yesterday!"
"It was the midwife who examined her and sent for me. I tend to trust her judgment in this. The fact that I've just returned is annoying but entirely beside the point." She turned to the messenger. "You needn't stay. Tell Mistress Thornap I'll follow as soon as I can."
The man nodded once and left without speaking at all. Marta watched him go. "I don't like him," she said.
Kath raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Why is that?"
"I didn't like the way he looked at me. I didn't like the way he studied this room as if there might be something here that belonged to him."
Kath shrugged. "He's on his way back to Karsan and, with luck, you'll never see him again." She turned to Bone Tapper. "Tell the horse to get ready. You and Treedle will be going with me. As always, I'll have need of your eyes and his strength."
"What about me?" Marta asked. "Do I start seeking the Laws of Power now?"
"You already are, though you don't seem to realize it. No, as much as there is to do here I was thinking that perhaps you should go with us this time. If you've chosen to follow me there's more to learn than the Laws."
Black Kath's Daughter Page 2
