Lord of the Shadows

by Jennifer Fallon

  “It's not my fault,” she sobbed. “You must believe me! Dirk told me to say it. He told me to do it, Kirsh. I didn't want to lie, but he made me …”

  Kirsh disentangled her arms from around his neck so he could see her face. “Dirk put you up to this?”

  She nodded miserably. “He told me to say the Goddess had spoken to me. He told me to lie to Antonov. That's why he killed Belagren. He wanted me to take her place. He made me do it. I'm so sorry, Kirsh …”

  “Hang on … are you saying Dirk killed Belagren?”

  “I was afraid he'd kill me,” she cried. “That's why I went along with him. Oh, Kirsh, I was so afraid. I wanted to tell you, but I thought he'd kill you, too, if I said anything. He hates you all so much. That's why he did it. He wanted to destroy your father. He wants to destroy Senet.”

  “Can you prove Dirk killed Belagren?”

  Marqel seemed a little taken aback by the question. But Kirsh wasn't entirely blinded by love. To accuse the Lord of the Suns of murder would require more than the word of the High Priestess who had just been so spectacularly brought down. Kirsh had learned another hard lesson recently. One didn't accuse Dirk Provin of a crime unless one had incontrovertible proof. Dirk could weasel out of anything. He'd gotten away with Johan Thorn's murder. He'd gotten away with raping Marqel. He'd spent two years with the Baenlanders, actively working against his father. He'd even burned the Calliope and managed to avoid Antonov's wrath. If Kirsh could prove he had murdered Belagren, he could destroy Dirk. If he couldn't prove it, there was no point in even trying.

  “Don't you believe me, Kirsh?” Marqel asked in a small voice.

  “Of course I believe you. But I can't accuse Dirk of Belagren's murder unless I can prove it.”

  “So he'll get away with that, too …” she sighed. “Nobody will believe my word against his after today.”

  And that was precisely what Dirk had been counting on, Kirsh realized.

  “We'll make them believe you,” he promised her.

  “How?”

  “I don't know yet. But we'll find a way. The first thing we need to do is get back to the temple. I need to speak to my father.”

  Marqel began to cry again. He gathered her into his arms and held her close.

  “I'm so sorry I said those terrible things to you in Avacas, Kirsh,” she sobbed into his chest. “Dirk told me to get rid of you. He made me say those things. He forced me to say I didn't love you.” She leaned back in his arms and stared at him with shame-filled eyes. “I only ever wanted you, Kirsh. I only slept with your father because Dirk said I had to. I never wanted to …”

  He pulled her close again, unable to bear the pain in her eyes. His hatred of Dirk at that moment seemed to know no bounds. To Kirsh's mind, Dirk had not set out to destroy his father, or the Shadowdancers. All he could see was that Dirk Provin had deliberately and ruthlessly set out to destroy a helpless young girl whose only crime was that she had rejected him.

  y first sunrise the city was just about under control. Tia prowled the temple restlessly, her mind so overwhelmed by all that had happened in the last day, she was barely able to form a coherent thought. Her close brush with death, the realization Dirk had faked everything, even back as far as Omaxin, simply to bring down the Shadowdancers, was too much for her to cope with. The scope of his plan defied reason. How much more he planned before he was done was too terrifying to imagine. The danger involved, to himself and everyone around him, was insane.

  That he appeared to have succeeded so far was unbelievable.

  The Lion of Senet was still on his knees near the altar, praying silently to his Goddess. He'd been there all day and nobody had been able to get a word of sense out of him. To have his beliefs so cruelly exposed had shattered the once powerful man. Antonov Latanya must be torn apart inside, she thought. The realization the Goddess had turned from him; that his beloved deity had denied the High Priestess…it made a mockery of his whole life. Antonov turned to the Goddess he believed in so ardently for an explanation.

  Tia thought he'd be a long time waiting for one.

  The sounds of the riot in the city had died down some time ago. Kirshov Latanya was still out there, she knew, along with Dirk's brother, Rees, and a few other noblemen who had rallied to Kirsh's call. It was Kirshov Latanya who was forcing order on the people. There had been reports coming in to the temple all day about the number of killed and wounded. Among them was Prince Baston of Damita, torn apart by the rampaging mob that took his elegantly cut red clothes to mean he was a Shadowdancer.

  “My lady?”

  Tia turned to the Guardsman who had hailed her. She wasn't used to being addressed in such a manner.

  “Are you talking to me?”

  “The Lord of the Suns wishes to see you.”

  Tia allowed him to lead her to the small anteroom off the main hall where Dirk had been closeted for most of the day. He was alone when she entered, staring out of the window into the red night, his expression pensive. There were several fires burning in the distance, set by looters and other miscreants taking advantage of the trouble to work a little mischief of their own. Dirk had shed the yellow robes of his office and was dressed once again in a simple shirt and plain dark trousers.

  “They said you wanted to see me.”

  Dirk turned to look at her. “Are you all right?”

  “Why wouldn't I be?”

  He smiled wearily. “I'm sorry about letting you think I was going to burn you alive, Tia. I'm sorry about most of what I've done to you, actually.”

  “Most of it?”

  “There were some things that didn't seem so bad at the time.”

  She met his eye without flinching. “Go to hell, Dirk Provin.”

  “Tia …I just wanted you to know I didn't…I wasn't …” His voice trailed off as if he couldn't find the words he needed to explain himself.

  “Was that what you wanted to tell me?” she asked. “That you're sorry you screwed me and then betrayed me, and then almost had me killed? Fine. Can I go now?”

  “I didn't mean for things to turn out the way they did, Tia.”

  “Really? Then why did you want me in Omaxin with you, Dirk? Why drag me all across Senet with you? You were always planning to betray us. I realize that now. What was I there for? The pleasure of my company? Or did you just like the idea of having an audience to play to?”

  “I needed somebody to bear witness to what happened. Someone who would be certain to broadcast the news of my defection. It was the only way to be certain news got back to Mil fast enough.”

  “Why me?”

  “I meant what I said when I first asked you to go with me, Tia. You knew everything Neris ever said about the Labyrinth. For all I knew, you had the answer without even realizing it.” He shrugged, and smiled a little sheepishly. “Besides, you hated me anyway. I figured there wasn't much I could do to make your opinion of me any worse than it already was.”

  “Well, you got that wrong.”

  Dirk shook his head, wounded by the anger in her tone. “I had to make it look good, Tia, or Belagren would never have believed me.”

  “Oh, you made it look good,” she assured him coldly.

  He seemed desperate to make her understand. “You were never in any real danger. I knew I could make Kirsh let you go.

  I insisted Belagren bring him along, just so I could make certain you got away.”

  “And was sleeping with me part of your grand plan, too?”

  “Of course not,” he said, looking away. “That just …happened.”

  “It just happened? You've got a nerve, Dirk Provin, thinking I will ever forgive you for what you did to me.”

  “It wasn't all my fault,” he pointed out. “You made the first move, as I recall.” Dirk seemed quite hurt that she wouldn't see reason. Stung that she clung to her pain and anger and refused to accept his coldly rational explanation for why he had treated her so cruelly.

  “You knew what was going to happen. Y
ou could have said no.”

  His eyes narrowed impatiently. “Of course. I can see it now. What I obviously should have said when you came to my tent was ‘Sorry, Tia, we can't do this right now because in a couple of weeks I'm going to hand you over to the High Priestess.’ Maybe then you wouldn't have felt the need to shoot me.”

  “You deserved it.”

  “You're still very angry, aren't you?”

  “After everything you've done, I have a right to be angry. Why didn't you tell me about all this in Mil? Why didn't you tell us what you were doing? We could have helped you.”

  “That's exactly why I didn't tell you, Tia,” he explained. “The best way you could help me was to believe that I'd betrayed you.”

  “Was this your idea?” she asked suspiciously. “Or Neris's?”

  “I'm not sure, really,” he shrugged. “We used to talk about how to bring down Belagren and Antonov quite a bit. It just sort of evolved from that.”

  She rolled her eyes. “What? So the two of you sat around his cave playing chess one day and decided: Hey! Let's destroy a goddess?”

  Dirk smiled. “That's surprisingly close to how it happened.”

  “You're incredible! I mean Neris was crazy, so I suppose I can forgive him. What's your excuse?”

  “Well, there was a precedent, you know. The whole Shadowdancer cult started much the same way.”

  She shook her head, staggered at the thought of what Dirk had undertaken on such a flimsy foundation. “Did Paige Halyn know what you were planning?”

  “He knew what I was trying to do, but not the details.”

  “Yet he trusted you enough to name you his heir. How did you manage that?”

  “The same way I get most people to do what I want, Tia. I offered him something he wanted. I promised to destroy the Shadowdancers and restore the Goddess to what she had been before Belagren came along. I promised I'd build the schools he always wanted. Everybody has their price, you know. Even the Lord of the Suns.”

  “Why promise him that? You know there isn't a Goddess.”

  “Actually, I don't,” he disagreed. “I'm certain there's no Goddess making the second sun disappear at whim, and I promise you, those fires died today not because the Goddess willed it, but because I'd soaked the wood in sinkbore before the pyres were lit. But I have no idea if there is a deity out there somewhere, looking down over Ranadon.”

  “Sinkbore? The stuff they use to clean mold?”

  “Magical stuff. Wood just won't burn if you splash enough of it around. Neris told me about it.”

  That's what she had smelled when they tied her to the stake. That's what they'd been pouring out of those urns. Not oil. Just ordinary, everyday, blessedly flame-retardant Sidorian sinkbore. Tia stared at him in wonder. “Then you never intended to burn me alive?”

  “Of course not! What do you take me for?” He smiled suddenly. “On second thought, perhaps you shouldn't answer that.”

  “You're almost as bad as Belagren,” she accused. “You're going to allow the world to believe a lie, just to suit your own purposes.”

  “You can't destroy everyone's belief and just hope they'll move on, Tia. People need something to believe in. If Paige Halyn's benign version of the Goddess is what it takes to rid the world of Belagren's version, then I'm quite happy to let people worship that. It's easier than trying to convince them they're fools for worshipping anything at all.”

  “And you were willing to throw everything away for it?”

  He shrugged philosophically. “Everyone has his price, Tia. And so does everything. Sometimes you have to weigh up the cost and decide if it's worth it. That's what Johan did.”

  “He thought the cost was too high.”

  “He had other people to worry about. The only thing I had to lose was me. That's why I never told you what I was doing. You or anybody else.”

  “You're unbelievable.”

  “And no matter how spectacularly I succeed in bringing down the Shadowdancers, you'll never forgive me for it, will you? Just as you've never forgiven me for killing Johan.”

  “Is that what you want from me, Dirk? Forgiveness?”

  “I don't think I know myself.” He shrugged as if he was tired of arguing with her. He squared his shoulders and looked at her, the Lord of the Suns again. “In the meantime, I need you to do something for me.”

  “What?” she asked suspiciously.

  “I want you to bring Misha back to Avacas.”

  “I don't know where he is.”

  “Don't lie to me, Tia. You know exactly where he is. I need him.”

  “Why? Have you an even grander plan in mind?”

  “I need him as insurance. I don't want Kirsh ruling Senet.”

  “That would imply Antonov was no longer around to rule it. Are you going to kill him, too?”

  Dirk shook his head. “Of course not. Believe it or not, Tia, I don't want anybody to die if I can avoid it. But he's a broken man. I don't want Kirsh stepping into the void.”

  “I thought he was a friend of yours.”

  “That doesn't mean I think him capable of ruling Senet at a time like this.”

  “And what makes you think Misha will be any more cooperative than his brother?”

  “Misha's got a better head on his shoulders, for one thing. And he's not in love with the High Priestess of the Shadowdancers, either, which might prove very awkward if Kirsh decides to step into his father's shoes.”

  They were interrupted by the door opening. Alenor entered the anteroom, followed by Alexin. The queen had not let the captain out of her sight since they'd taken refuge in the temple.

  “Tael said you wanted to see Alexin,” Alenor said, glancing curiously at Tia before fixing her attention on Dirk.

  “I'm sending him away.”

  “I won't let you,” the queen declared.

  “I'm not asking for your permission, Alenor. If you want Alexin to live, then we have to get him out of Senet. Tonight. I told you once before to send him away and you didn't listen to me. This time I'm not giving you a choice.”

  “Where are you sending him?”

  “He's going with Tia Veran to bring Misha back.”

  “I haven't agreed to do anything of the kind,” Tia objected.

  “Then go back to Misha and tell him what's happened,” Dirk suggested. “Let him decide.”

  Tia frowned, thinking Dirk knew Misha better than she suspected. There was no way she would be able to keep Misha from coming home once he learned what had happened here today.

  “I'm sending you back through Avacas with an escort of Sundancers,” he told Alexin, as if the matter was already decided. “I'll see you have travel warrants and enough money to get you safely out of Senet. After that, Tia will have to tell you where you're going. Don't stop for anything. Or anyone.”

  “Why Sundancers?” Tia asked.

  “Today is merely the start of a long and laborious process, Tia. There is doubt now, where once there was blind faith, but it's only the beginning. I'm sending the Sundancers to Avacas. I want Madalan Tirov confined, and possession of the Hall of Shadows.”

  “You've still got big ambitions, haven't you?” she accused. “Even when you're supposedly doing it for the right reasons.”

  “I've got an idea to kill, Tia, and that takes more than one grand gesture.” He turned to Alexin. “Once you're out of Senet, I suggest you stay out. But don't go back to Kalarada. There's a place in Oakridge on Bryton where you should be safe until this is sorted out. One way or another.”

  “Dirk, please …” Alenor begged.

  “Dirk's right, Alenor,” Alexin told her. “Today has given us a stay of execution, not solved the problem. You're still married to Kirsh and I will still be executed for treason once Kirsh has had time to think about it.”

  “Then I want to go with you,” she announced petulantly.

  “You can't, Allie,” Dirk told her in a slightly more sympathetic tone. “If you go with Alexin, Kirsh will
have no choice but to follow you. Alexin's only hope is to leave. Now. We haven't got much time before Kirsh has the city back under control.”

  “It just seems so unfair …”

  “It is unfair,” Dirk agreed. “It's also the only intelligent thing to do.”

  And that, Tia thought, was the whole reason Dirk was standing here now, the Lord of the Suns, with Bollow rioting and the Shadowdancers facing ruin. Because it was the intelligent thing to do. Not the noble thing; not even the right thing. Just the intelligent thing.

  For the first time, Tia wondered if she was starting to understand what drove Dirk Provin. She glanced at Alexin, resigned to the inevitability of Dirk's suggestion she bring Misha back to Senet. “Are you sure you want to do this? We've a long way to go.”

  “I'm sure.”

  Dirk nodded with satisfaction. “Then I wish you both luck.”

  “You're the one who needs the luck, Dirk,” Tia pointed out. “We're just going to fetch Misha. You're trying to save the world.”

  nce Tia, Alenor and Alexin had left, Dirk allowed himself a few moments to let the exhaustion he felt wash over him. It had been a long day and it was far from over. The idea of sleep seemed so far distant he doubted he'd remember what a bed looked like by the time he found a chance to rest. There was so much to do.

  The riot in Bollow had not been part of Dirk's plan. He knew there would be trouble, but he hadn't counted on succeeding quite so spectacularly. The people of Bollow weren't just angry. The notion that the Goddess had turned her back on the High Priestess and the Shadowdancers—the whole foundation of their beliefs since the end of the Age of Shadows—was more than they could deal with.

  Dirk was not sorry he'd disarmed the Senetian Guard. There were more than a dozen dead and hundreds more wounded, but the toll would have been much higher if the soldiers had tried to bring the mob under control wielding swords. He wished he knew where Marqel was, though. The thought of her dying didn't disturb him nearly as much as the thought of creating a martyr. He needed her alive for the same reason he hadn't wanted Belagren killed. He needed to prove the High Priestess was human. That was going to be difficult if she was dead.