The God-Touched Man

by Melissa McShane

  “Thank you,” Piercy said drily, and helped Dolobeka ascend the back stairs and fall into one of the beds in their shared room without undressing. “We should consider returning you to your people,” he said. “This is not your battle.”

  Dolobeka leaned the crutch against his bed, where it promptly slid and fell on the floor with a clatter. “I will not be denied my revenge. I will force that magician to restore—”

  “Lord Dolobeka, if you will not take my word that we are no longer in your time, I can see no other way to persuade you save to restore you to your people. Hodestis no longer has the power to return you to your own time. You must accept this.”

  “I say you lie.”

  “To what end? It gains me nothing to deceive you in this.”

  Dolobeka scowled and wouldn’t meet Piercy’s eyes. “It is impossible.”

  “Nearly impossible, yes. Lord Dolobeka, you should go to Matra where Princess Jendaya’s delegation waits. She will know how best to help you.”

  “Princess Jendaya?”

  “Jendaya Hathakuni. In this era, her sister Cyrah is queen.”

  “The Hathakunis are cousins to the Dolobekas. It is strange to think of them as rulers.” Dolobeka shook his head. “I will go when this is finished. Hodestis will pay for what he has done.”

  “I…all right,” Piercy said, realizing from the set of Dolobeka’s shoulders and the mulish cast to his mouth that arguing was pointless. “But you will bear your share of the burden of travel.”

  “Hah. I will bear more than my share. No noblewoman should behave as Lady Sethemba does. It is unnatural.”

  “I suggest you tell her that sometime when I am in a position to watch her remove your heart by way of your nostrils. Now, I intend to bathe, but you are welcome to take a turn after me.”

  “In the morning. I will sleep and give this injury time to heal. I do not think that woman healed it properly.”

  Piercy shrugged and went in search of the bathing room, thanking Cath the whole way that the inn was large enough to provide one. The innkeeper’s directions led him down the stairs and around the rear of the kitchen; he guessed the bathing room backed against the side of the fireplace opposite the kitchen, so the room would stay warm even in winter. The door was at the end of a short hall; he knocked on it and said, “Ayane?”

  “Just a minute,” came the muffled reply, and shortly the door opened. “I hope you weren’t waiting long,” she said. “I probably should have let you bathe first.”

  He nodded, unable to speak. She’d unbraided her hair. It fell in silky ripples around her face and halfway down her back, softening her features and making her look older than she had before. “I don’t mind,” he managed. “You seem to have put your time to good use.”

  To his surprise, she blushed and touched her hair. “It’s a little dramatic, I know, but I can only leave it braided for so long and then I have to….” She touched her hair again. “It takes a while.”

  “I can imagine.” He resisted the urge to touch it as she had done, just to see if it felt as silky as it looked. “Please tell me you have left at least some hot water,” he added, trying to sound as if she hadn’t just left him speechless.

  “There’s some kind of spell on the cistern. You should have enough to make yourself human again. That is,” she said, sounding flustered, “not that you look awful now.”

  “I certainly feel less than human,” Piercy said, rubbing his bristly chin. “Fortunately I was able to borrow shaving tackle, and soon I will be my old self.”

  “I hope not entirely.” Ayane moved past him, making him step aside. “I like the man you are now.” She was gone before he could think of a response. He stared after her until the sound of her footsteps had died away, then went into the bathing room and began removing his filthy clothes. What had that meant? No teasing, no annoyance, just that quiet voice in perfect seriousness telling him she liked him. Liked who he was. He couldn’t remember anyone ever telling him that before.

  He scrubbed himself and his hair, rinsed off, scrubbed again. The cistern was the newest model of Evon’s invention, and Piercy contemplated its white-enameled sides and wondered how Evon and Kerensa were doing. He should contact them tonight after speaking to Tedoratis. Come to think on it, it was getting late and he should stop luxuriating in the hot water and get back to work. Even so, he took his time shaving, enjoying the feel of the razor sliding over his skin, the soapy lather and the simple joy of being clean-shaven.

  Putting on his travel-soiled clothes seemed like an insult to the glories of the bathing room, but he had no other choice. He stepped out of the room and kicked a pile of fabric. Clothes. Trousers and linen and a frock coat, all in his size. He looked off down the hallway toward the stairs. She truly was extraordinary.

  Piercy returned to his room to find Dolobeka deeply asleep and snoring. He rolled the man onto his side without waking him, dropped his filthy clothes in a corner, and went to knock on Ayane’s door. “I thought you might like to be present for my communication with Miss Tedoratis,” he said to the sliver of her face visible in the crack.

  “Come in,” she said, and sheathed her knife as he shut the door behind himself. “Did the clothes fit?”

  “Almost perfectly. Thank you for procuring them. You have excellent powers of observation.”

  “Thank you. I wish we had more to tell Miss Tedoratis. Lady Gelventer may or may not be dead and a pile of heavy cloaks isn’t a lot of new information.”

  “Miss Tedoratis is clever enough to make much of those things.” He huffed on the mirror and traced a couple of runes. “Eloqua Wilfreya Tedoratis,” he said, and took a seat on the bed.

  Ayane sat next to him. “Have you thought at all about how we can stop him, assuming we catch up to him in time?”

  “I’m afraid I haven’t thought much beyond finding him. Obviously we will need to be prepared to defend against his magic, and we’ve done that before, but much will depend on whether we can catch him unawares.”

  “He’s not very observant. I think you and I might be able to sneak up on him. I’m not so sure about Lord Dolobeka.”

  “I am almost inclined to let him draw Hodestis’s attention from us, were it not for the probability that Hodestis will not restrict himself to desini cucurri in defending himself. Lord Dolobeka insists on continuing with us, and I admit to admiring his tenacity.”

  The mirror cleared. “Mr. Faranter,” Tedoratis said. “Report.”

  “We have found the last place Hodestis stopped,” Piercy said, “or at any rate the last place before stopping for the night somewhere farther up the road. Many people in…” He realized he’d never found out the name of the city. “Many people here saw him. He cast desini cucurri on someone who investigated his wagon and saw the Lady High Chamberlain within.”

  “That’s somewhat good news. Anything else?”

  “The man also saw that Hodestis had a tent and a number of heavy cloaks in the wagon as well. We wondered if he might be trying to shift in time again, to winter.”

  “Just a minute.” Tedoratis’s face withdrew from the mirror, leaving them looking at a blank-walled room paneled in faded pine Piercy recognized as Tedoratis’s tiny office. A few minutes later, Tedoratis returned. “Do you have a map?”

  “Ah…no. Should I?”

  “Yes. It’s probably too late for you to find a stationer’s, so you’ll buy one in the morning and contact me again. We know where Hodestis is going.”

  “You do?”

  “There are three places of power within easy reach of Kemelen. One of them is wintry year-round. If Hodestis has winter gear, that’s where he’s going. Good work.”

  “Thank you,” Piercy said, though he didn’t feel as if he’d done much of anything. He felt anxious, energetic, eager to be out on the road again and frustrated at night’s delay. They would catch Hodestis, and restore the Lady High Chamberlain, and…well, they’d go back to their old lives, wouldn’t they? His excited feeling w
ent flat.

  “Lady Sethemba,” Tedoratis said, switching to Santerran. “Are you there?”

  Piercy handed her the mirror. “I am,” she said.

  “We have received repeated inquiries from Princess Jendaya about your status and location,” Tedoratis said. “You’re to return to Matra immediately.”

  “I’m needed here. Please tell Jendaya it will be only a few more days.”

  “Her Highness told me to say to you, specifically, Kinfe Sethemba calls you home. I’m sorry, Lady Sethemba, but I must insist.”

  Ayane glanced at Piercy. “I understand. Tell Jendaya I will return as soon as possible.”

  “Thank you. Mr. Faranter, I’ll speak with you in the morning.” The mirror went silver-bright again. Ayane stood and walked to the window, leaned heavily against it and bowed her head.

  “Well,” said Piercy, and couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  “Jendaya is…overly cautious,” Ayane said. “She was secluded during the war and never fought as I did. She’s used to thinking in terms of conserving her resources.”

  “Well,” Piercy said again, “after all, it’s not as if this is your fight.”

  “Isn’t it?” She lifted her head and appeared to be looking at the stars. “We started this. I intend to finish it.”

  “But—”

  “I said ‘as soon as possible,’ didn’t I? And that will be when we’ve finished this. I don’t know how you feel, but I’ll chase Hodestis to the gates of hell if I have to. Jendaya will have to wait a few days longer.”

  “Your father will not be happy about this.”

  “My father’s not in a position to do anything about it. Are you arguing because you want me to leave?”

  Piercy realized he had his hand closed on the small round mirror and its edges were cutting into his palm and fingers. “No,” he said. “I want you to stay.”

  She bowed her head again. “Then I’ll stay. It’s not as if your government can do anything to me. And I know all Jendaya’s worst secrets. She’ll forgive me eventually.”

  “I hope you are right,” Piercy said, standing. “I’ll leave you to sleep, then. We should try to rise early.” He hesitated, then said, “I should not encourage you to disobey your superiors, but the truth is I would feel incredibly lost without your companionship.”

  He could see her faint reflection smile in the darkened glass of the window. “I couldn’t abandon you with just Lord Dolobeka.”

  Her words made him feel empty, as if he’d offered her a gift and been rejected. “Of course.”

  The door was almost shut behind him when he heard her say, “Piercy?” She’d turned around to face him. “I feel the same,” she said, almost shyly, and it surprised him so much all he could do was nod in acknowledgment and close the door behind himself. Then he stood there with his hand on the knob, letting it anchor him to the present, to that moment. I feel the same, and I like the man you are now. What were they moving toward, the two of them? He felt as if he were trying to solve a puzzle blindfolded, with only her voice to guide him, speaking a language he didn’t understand.

  It was true, the idea of her returning to Matra without him left him feeling cold inside, and not because he would miss her as a partner; he was beginning to have trouble imagining what his life would be like when this was all over and she was gone. Because I love her, he thought, and it was so simple and obvious it wasn’t even a surprise. He loved her, he wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life with her, and if he wasn’t mistaken, she felt more than simple friendship for him. Though he’d believed her to be attracted to him before, so he could be wrong, but…

  He squeezed the doorknob hard, then returned to his own room. Contacting Evon seemed like too much work now, and it was late, and if Kerensa had had her child they wouldn’t want to be disturbed at this hour. And he didn’t think it was a good idea to go back to Ayane’s room and go to his knees in front of her, begging her to love him. He draped his new clothes over the end of his bed and crawled under the blankets. Time enough to think about all this in the morning.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The bell on the stationer’s door jingled as Piercy pushed it open, tucking the folded map inside his coat. He’d realized, as he stood at the counter, that Tedoratis hadn’t been very specific as to the size or scale of the map he needed, so he bought one that showed the immediate area and several miles surrounding it and hoped it was good enough. Windelis, as the town proved to be named, was despite its appearance a thriving center of commerce, and Piercy hoped that meant Ayane and Dolobeka would be able to find the supplies they needed despite their being out of season. He glanced up the street and concluded they were still inside the store, so he crossed the street, carefully thanks to the traffic, and went back to the inn.

  The taproom still smelled of breakfast, which had been delicious, the more so for being free on the insistence of Hemneter the innkeeper. The man seemed to be bearing a disproportionate amount of guilt for the crowd’s treatment of Joss, but Piercy didn’t care to ferret out the reason. In his room, he spread out the map on the bed; it was large enough that it overlapped the sides. “Eloqua Wilfreya Tedoratis,” he said, and almost immediately Tedoratis’s face appeared.

  “Show me the map,” she said, and Piercy tilted the mirror toward it. He waited, impatiently, for Tedoratis to speak, but all he could hear was the faint murmur of distant voices that might have come from the taproom below or Tedoratis’s office through the mirror. Finally, she said, “Do you see where you are?”

  “Windelis, yes, somewhat west of center.”

  “You’ll head west and north along the road until you reach a signpost that points back toward Windelis and north toward Matra. From there, head due northeast seventeen miles. Are you writing this down?”

  Piercy fumbled for the pencil the stationer had thrown in with the map. “Yes, Miss Tedoratis.”

  “Seventeen miles. You’ll be within sight of an arm of Telwyth Forest. Proceed due east, paralleling the forest, for two miles. Then—this is the important part—you’ll blindfold yourself and head north toward the forest. Do not remove the blindfold for any reason. You’ll want to look where you’re going, but the only way to enter this place is to be ignorant of its actual location. You’ll know when you’ve reached it because you’ll step into winter.”

  “I see. Or rather, I won’t see. May I ask how this place was discovered? And if it was discovered, how did no one realize what it was?”

  “A party of travelers were lost one stormy night about fifteen years ago and discovered it because it was too dark to see where they were going. They didn’t stay within it long; they were traveling during summer and realized immediately what it was, and were able to retrace their steps before going very far. They reported it and a team of magicians mapped out its boundaries over the course of several months. It seems to go out of its way to avoid notice.”

  “Presumably it has the aid of a God, if we are correct about what is hiding inside.”

  “Which is why we want you to stop this man before he reaches his goal.”

  “What of Home Defense? We’ve seen nothing of their agents.”

  Tedoratis scowled. “Home Defense has, thanks to its long-time rivalry with this office, declined to listen to the information you’ve gathered. Naturally, they’re concerned about recovering Gelventer, but they think Hodestis is nothing more than an obsessed magician who has a grudge against the government, the Gods alone know who came up with that theory. They’ve extrapolated his path and are planning to intercept him before he reaches Matra, and, again, the Gods alone know why they think that’s where he’s going.

  “I, on the other hand, have had a couple of very intense conversations with Evon and Kerensa Lorantis about the danger the Witch poses to this country. Home Defense has taken over, so the Foreign Office is pursuing this off the books, so to speak. That means you will have no backup, but on the other hand, you also can operate without interfere
nce. I don’t have to tell you we’re placing a great deal of faith in your abilities, Mr. Faranter.”

  “Yet you will do so anyway.”

  “Of course. Now. If Leuwenter gave you the assistance I required of her, you’re almost certainly capable of traveling faster than your quarry, so get on the road and contact me when you’ve made progress.” Tedoratis vanished. Piercy ran the pencil over the lines and numbers he’d written on the map, darkening them, then folded it and put it away.

  He tried to pay for their rooms, was rebuffed, thought about arguing, and decided he didn’t want to waste time. In the yard, he discovered the cherry-red carriage had been thoroughly washed and the horses, also brushed until they gleamed, were harnessed. Piercy tipped the ostler, who didn’t share his master’s feelings about working for free, and drove out of the yard and back toward the shops.

  The carriage drew a great deal of notice from others traveling the narrow street; Piercy smiled and nodded at them and wished he had a hat to tip. Despite the earliness of the hour—he had prodded Dolobeka awake before dawn, and the sun was only just fully above the horizon—the street was packed with wagons carrying produce, Piercy assumed toward a marketplace deeper within the city.

  The air smelled green and fresh, and Piercy recognized the odor given off by street cleaners, who must have been about late the previous night, sweeping up animal waste and the run-off from stables and storing it for sale to farmers. Piercy again felt invigorated as if he were holding the God’s sword, which lay at his feet with the sword belt wrapped around it, next to his walking stick. It was hard to imagine failure on a day like this.

  He saw Ayane and Dolobeka coming toward them, Ayane heavily laden, Dolobeka with a lighter load strapped to his back and a fierce scowl on his face. “Thank the Gods,” Ayane said when he brought the carriage to a stop next to them. “I was afraid we’d have to haul all of this back to the inn.”