Even Florian remarked through Karal that Grand Duke Tremane had all the earmarks of an excellent commander in anyone's forces.
There was no doubt in An'desha's mind that the man they needed to communicate with was none other than the leader himself. He was sensible, he seemed sensitive to the needs, not only of his own people but of these who had adopted him as their leader. He was a man inclined to reason and reasonableness.
There was only one small problem.
By watching and listening they had learned one thing further from the man's own lips. He, and no other, had been the one who had ordered the assassinations that had killed Karal's beloved Master, the Karsite Sun-priest Ulrich.
Nine
Firesong burned with incoherent outrage. Someone was meddling with the power of his Heartstone! Granted, it wasn't much power being drained off, but still, no one had asked him for permission to tap into it directly, and he might need that power for his experiments!
He hadn't been able to get past Silverfox to visit the Heartstone chamber in days, but that didn't matter as far as keeping track of what was going on with the Stone itself. He could tell what was happening to the Stone even at a considerable distance, and he caught the unmistakable traces of meddling although he could not identify the meddler. It wasn't Elspeth or Darkwind; he knew the signatures of their power. It wasn't the gryphons either, although he hadn't thought either of them were keyed to it. There were no other Valdemaran mages powerful enough to tap into the Heartstone directly. Initially, he suspected the new mages from k'Leshya, but one by one he eliminated them as he ascertained that they had not been linked into the Stone yet either.
Finally, this very afternoon as he was waiting for Elspeth and Darkwind to arrive for a consultation in the hot spring, he realized who it was—who it must be. The obvious answer had been right in front of him, and yet it was not really obvious at all.
An'desha. It had to be An'desha.
He was an Adept, and it would not have been at all difficult for him to persuade Elspeth or Darkwind to give him access to the power of the Valdemar Stone. He had been helping the artificers and Karal with the practice and theory of magic. One or the other had probably come up with some idea that required so much power that only that of the Heartstone would do.
And, of course, none of them deigned to ask him about it!
Of course not. Why should they? I'm only the most experienced Adept here! An'desha may think he has experience, but all of it is tainted, slanted Falconsbane's way. What's more, he has no experience in any form of working with a Heartstone. But naturally, Karal has convinced him that he doesn't need me anymore. He thinks he has everything he needs to go sailing off on his own, I'm sure. He wasn't ready to work alone, and he wouldn't be ready for years! There is no way he could possibly be ready to work alone, especially not with Heartstone power! But Karal has probably told him the opposite—made him believe he doesn't need any help just when he needs it the most.
He paced back and forth angrily, forgetting that he was expecting visitors, as Aya fluttered and chirped in distress on his corner perch. The firebird began to send out false sparks with every flutter of his wings, trails of brilliant motes of light that cascaded from the bird's feathers like dust. Firesong ignored those signs of growing tension in favor of his own anger.
Rage seethed unchecked inside him. Karal! That's who's to blame for this! By the gods, I should do something about him, the interfering fool boy! The Alliance doesn't need him anymore, not with Solaris coming here. An'desha certainly doesn't need his brand of advice! Karal was the cause of all his problems—Karal was dangerous! He was meddling in things he couldn't even begin to understand, and he was encouraging An'desha to do the same. How long before he coaxed An'desha to try something more dangerous than just tapping into Heartstone power? How long before he encouraged An'desha to try to change it? Wasn't that how the k'Sheyna Heartstone had gone rogue in the first place? Pure primal rage colored everything scarlet, and his pulse sounded in his cars like the beat of a drummer gone mad. I ought to get rid of him—I have to get rid of him, before he ruins everything!
A high-pitched sound of ripping punctuated his murderous thoughts, and a decorative drape tore away from the wall. It shimmered with the side effects of the power he was projecting, falling slowly into progressively smaller shreds.
I should be doing that to Karal, that indolent, wet-eared whelp in diapers....
Firesong ground his teeth, letting the anger grow into a fury, not even concerned about the damage it was doing to his ekele. Let it happen! It didn't matter. The sound of splitting wood was reassuring—that was what breaking bones sounded like, and right now, wishing bodily mayhem on everyone who hadn't appreciated him enough felt very good.
The wooden legs of the serving table split lengthwise, in halves and thirds, twisting the surface this way and that before finally pitching sideways in collapse. The mugs and plates that slid off shattered before reaching the floor.
It is far and away past time I woke up!
At that moment, Aya gave an ear-shattering shriek of absolute terror, and a corner of the ekele burst into flame.
Firesong whirled, howling with anger at Aya's idiocy. The firebird leaped from his perch and fled into the corner to cower in fear under the last almost-intact table. Firesong snarled, deep in his throat, and willed the flames to go out—go out now! The fire only surged brighter when he directed his rage-edged power toward it. It engulfed the tattered wall hangings in a bright yellow sheet, producing an even thicker gout of smoke. He attempted to fling a blanket on the flames to smother them, and succeeded only in burning both his hands in the process. The pain only made his anger worse. He couldn't even think clearly.
Finally he clenched his burned fists and screamed at the fire.
"I said stop!"
The smoke belching out from the fire froze, and then receded back into the fire, flattening against it, smothering it, leaving the walls coated in the black of charred tinder. Finally, all that was left was a sweat-soaked, shaking Firesong, splinters of destroyed furniture, the haze of smoke, and a terror-filled firebird.
Firesong took a deep breath through his tight jaw, and his gaze darted around until he found Aya. He opened his scorched fists and lunged at Aya. The firebird fled.
He chased Aya around the room as the firebird hid under broken furniture, screaming in fear of Firesong. "You damned bird!" Firesong shrieked. "You miserable bird! How dare you!" His words degenerated into incoherent growls. Still shouting with anger that had built beyond his ability to control it, he cornered the firebird and prepared to strike Aya where he cowered, every feather shivering.
"Don't!"
The shout from the stairs made him pause—and that moment was all it took for Elspeth and Darkwind to bracket him.
"Firesong, that is your bondbird," the Tayledras scout said angrily. "Your. Bond. Bird. Are you out of your mind? Don't you realize that you are to blame? All he did was reflect what was wrong with you!"
"Get out!" Firesong spat. "This is my home and my bird, and I'll—"
"This isn't a home, it's a funeral pyre, Firesong. Strike Aya down, and you'll follow him," Darkwind warned, tapping a rhythm pattern with one foot that Elspeth quickly picked up—a pattern Firesong recognized vaguely from the containment spell they had all worked to confine the power of the rogue Heartstone of k'Sheyna. "I'm not bluffing, Firesong We can counter anything you can throw at us, and we'll drive it right back into your teeth. It won't be pretty."
For another long moment, he stood there with his hand upraised, like an executioner ready to drop the ax, staring into Darkwind's implacable eyes. Those blue eyes bored into his coldly, promising that the words were not a bluff. His friends were prepared to cut him down.
Prepared to cut me down....
Firesong's burned hand shook and then unclenched as the impact of what was happening sunk in.
Then the anger drained out of him as suddenly as if they had lanced a suppurat
ing boil. He dropped his hand and stared at it, appalled.
"Oh, gods—" he whispered in disbelief. "Darkwind—what did I do? What was I going to do?"
What kind of a monster did I turn into? What was I thinking? The Heartstone isn't mine, An'desha has every right to follow his own path, and—Karal is as innocent as Aya. Aya. What is wrong with me? Aya, my bird, my bondbird…
Sudden and profound grief took the place of rage, flooding in to fill the void the loss of anger had left behind. His knees gave out and he dropped to the floor, sobbing. Darkwind and Elspeth held their positions, watching steadily. If they continued tapping that rhythm, Firesong could not hear it over his own crying.
Aya, my bird, my bondbird Aya... you didn't mean to, you were scared, I scared you, and I was going to....
Aya raised up from his cowering, just a little, and false sparks showered off him in bursts. The firebird stepped forward hesitantly, and slipped into Firesong's arms to cuddle against him, crooning softly. Firesong apologized to his oldest and dearest friend through his tears, rocking forward and back, losing all track of time.
What did I do... what have I done...?
All the world was hazy from the tears and the smoke, out of focus, out of mind. There was a slow-moving blur on his right, large and graceful, with a sweep of long black hair. Someone dropped down beside him, but it was not Darkwind nor Elspeth. He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling them sting even worse, and looked up to find himself gazing into the compassionate and understanding eyes of—Silverfox?
It was Silverfox, whose eyes showed a soul more intricate than all the magic that Firesong claimed to understand and control. Firesong stared through streaks of soot-stained white hair, his arms full of trembling firebird.
"What have I done?" he cried to the kestra'chern. "What's happened to me? I've turned into... a... monster!" He sobbed, stricken with equal parts grief and guilt. "How could I have let myself get this way?"
Silverfox reached out a smooth, long-fingered hand, and swept the damp strands of hair from Firesong's face.
"That's what I hope to show you, my friend," Silverfox said quietly. "Your hands are burned by more than just fire. Now you are willing to see it all, and undo some of the harm you have done to yourself. Now you are ready. But it was a very near thing, and you must never forget it."
The kestra'chern stood up and offered his hand. Still burdened by the firebird and shaken by all that had just happened, Firesong took it. Darkwind and Elspeth stepped aside, their expressions sympathetic, and let them pass.
Silverfox led him into his own room, and sat him down on the bed. The kestra'chern sat beside him, though he made no move to touch him.
"Now rest a while, and listen to me carefully," Silverfox told him. "I will try to explain some of what has happened, but it may be complex. Be patient and open, and I will explain it all. Do you remember how the mage-storms affected you before they were stopped?"
He nodded, as Aya tucked his soft-feathered head beneath his chin.
"They affect every mage, but they do more to you than you were aware, you or anyone else. You are a Healing Adept; you are attuned to the way that magic affects the land around you, but not only are you sensitive to it, magic that affects the land will cause changes in you." He paused to see if Firesong understood, and continued at his nod of surprise. "That is why I am here; we found evidence in the records from the days of Skandranon that the same thing happened to one or two other mages of his era during the unsettled time after the Cataclysm, and it took them years to discover what had unbalanced previously rational people. The Vales have all been warned. I came here, in part to see if any of you had been affected, because the changes are subtle and not particularly obvious. That is only part of what happened to you; you are ill, Firesong, but it is an illness that few Healers would sense unless they knew what to look for. There are subtle changes physically in your brain rather than your mind. They have made you quick to anger, slow to reason They are things that make you see enemies and conspiracies where there are none."
Firesong croaked, "So," and then swallowed twice to steady his voice. "So... my own body and brain are no better off than the land."
Silverfox nodded and interlaced his fingers. "Thus and so. But there are other things; patterns of thought you have established that are your own doing, though these changes made them worse."
Firesong licked lips gone dry, and stroked Aya's back feathers "Looking to blame anyone but myself?" he said tentatively. "Searching for a scapegoat to be the author of all my problems?"
"Obsessing on finding a lifebond as if a lifebond meant the end to every problem in life?" Silverfox added dryly.
Firesong hung his head, thanking his Goddess silently for the fact that Silverfox had not ever learned of his plan to extend his life so that he could find a lifebond. I will tear the Sanctuary down and scatter the pieces tomorrow, he pledged Her. I will destroy it as I should have done in the first place.
Could it be that some of the taint of Falconsbane had lingered in that bloodstained place he had created? Could that also have been the origin of some of his madness?
If it was the origin, I still gave in to it, cultivated it, and cherished it. I, and no other. No one held me down and drove those thoughts into my head like so many spikes.
"I have been an idiot," he told the kestra'chern remorsefully. "Oh, Silverfox. No amount of ability or talent can make up for acting like a tyrannical madman."
Silverfox smiled warmly, reassuringly. With question and answer, riddle and verse, encouragement and reproach, the kestra'chern led him gently to bare his soul to the bones. And a few hours later, Firesong knew—just a little—how An'desha had felt, in his arms, not so very long ago.
Karal struggled with his demon, after finally asking Natoli to give him a little time to himself to think.
Tremane is the only optimal choice to approach. We can't let the people of and in Hardorn continue to suffer—and we need them. Tremane is an honorable man by his own standards.
But Tremane had also personally ordered the cold-blooded murder of not only Ulrich but several other important folk of Valdemar and the Alliance. The only reason those other attempts had not succeeded was purest good fortune. But he still had the blood of two perfectly innocent people on his hands, both of them servants of their respective deities, which could by some lights make it twice as heinous.
Karal was having a difficult time reconciling the Tremane who had ordered those deaths with the one who went out into dangerous conditions to rescue children.
On the one hand, I want to open negotiations with him. On the other, I want to make him suffer as much as I have. Then I want to kill him slowly and painfully, the way Ulrich died.
If the latter reaction was wrong, it was only human. Karal tried to think of the greater good, but he could not get his thoughts past that anger. Just as much to the point, he could not see how they could trust someone who would write someone else's life off as casually as erasing a name from a ledger.
If I just knew why—if I just knew that he hadn't done it in cold blood, in indifference, the way An'desha described—
If I just knew he had regretted it, even a little!
If I just knew why he did it—
He paced until he thought he was going to wear a hole in the carpet, and still got no further than that. it was already full dark, and the darkness outside was no less impenetrable than the darkness surrounding his heart.
I can't agree to open negotiations with someone I can't trust! That's pretty basic to the proposition of negotiations, isn't it?
Only one man knew why Tremane had issued his orders, done what he had done, and that was Tremane.
I have to know. I have to talk to him. Somehow.
"I have to talk to Tremane," he said aloud. Altra raised his head from his paws and stared at him as if he had sprouted fur and fangs.
:You must be joking,: the Firecat said flatly.
Karal shook his head. "I have to find a w
ay to talk to him myself, Altra, before the others do. I have to know why. And I need to know if he'd do it again. What's the point in trying to deal with someone we can't trust?"
:I could give you a number of answers, but I don't think you're in the mood to hear them.:
"You've got to find a way to help me talk to him Altra, please!" Karal dropped down to his knees beside the Firecat, looking pleadingly into those blue eyes. "You're a mage."
:Not precisely in the way you mean.:
Karal ignored that. "Can't you do a scrying and make it work both ways?" he begged. "Can't you give me mind speech or find some other way that I can talk to Tremane?"
:I think this is a very, very bad idea, Karal.:
"I have to do this, Altra," he said warningly. "The other two won't follow through with the plan if I don't agree with it, that was the bargain. And I won't agree until I've had a chance to talk to Tremane myself, face-to-face if necessary!"
Altra looked at him measuringly. :I do believe that you would pack a bag and walk across two countries if you had to, in order to speak with this man.:
Karal nodded. "I won't have to, though. I'll bet Florian would help me rather than let me get into trouble. I'll bet Firesong would help me just to get rid of me!"
:Unfortunately, I'm sure you're correct.: The Firecat sighed heavily. :Very well. Since you're so insistent, I'll help you. But I can't create a scrying spell for you. What I can do is to take you there myself.:
Karal felt sick. "Jumping?" he faltered.
:It's the only way.: Altra cocked his head to one side and narrowed his eyes. :It's either that, or give up the idea. At least if I jump you into Tremane's study, I can jump you out again instantly if things go wrong. I can also hold him and keep him from doing anything for a limited period of time, which should make it possible for you to ask your questions of him without his raising an alarm. And don't forget that I also know the Tell-Me-true Spell, so the answers you get will be the ones you say you want to hear.:
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