by Eileen Wilks
“Will she?”
“Not in time.” She smiled faintly. Eharin did everything with exquisite restraint. An all-out smile would probably crack her face. “Your Ackleford is destined to disappointment in another way as well. One of those Marines he’s ordering around is not going to do as he says. Instead he’ll do my bidding.”
Kai’s head hurt too much for all this elliptical shit. “Why am I lying here with a cracked skull?”
“Do you think it’s really cracked?”
“Hard to say. Why are you here?”
“I felt sure you’d get around to asking that eventually.” She shifted, tucking one leg up under her in a way that should have looked awkward and crudely revealing, given the snug sheath she was wearing. It didn’t. “Dyffaya wants you.”
“I guessed that much. Though he seems to have trouble deciding whether he wants me alive or dead.”
“No, he’s quite clear on the subject. He wants you alive. I’m the one who wants you dead.”
That was direct enough. “And yet I’m not.”
“You will be.” This smile was no wider, but her eyes glittered with real emotion—one that turned her thoughts a biting, acrid yellow. Bitterness, long-held and consuming. “It would have been simpler to kill you with that blow to your head, but simpler isn’t always interesting. Dyffaya expects me to keep you stashed here until he has time to retrieve you.”
“He isn’t going to get what he expects?”
“He believes I am under his control. Silly of him, really. I am far too good at my work to leave his compulsions in force. I couldn’t remove them completely—he would have noticed that—but I could and did tie his additions up in tidy little knots. They don’t trouble me at all.”
Kai sorted through that and came up with, “He’s got a hook in you. Probably he can see and hear what you do, when he wants to. So mostly you have to look like you’re obeying, but you don’t obey if he isn’t watching. That’s why you tried to shoot me. He wasn’t watching.”
“He gave me such a great opportunity. He was using my eyes to show Nathan that he could have you killed at any moment. He didn’t intend to, of course, but as soon as he turned his attention elsewhere, I took my shot.” She sighed. “Such a shame that didn’t work.”
“And at the moment he’s preoccupied, keeping track of all those monsters he dumped on the city. You believe you can speak freely.” But why talk at all? Why was Kai still alive?
“That was almost clever,” Eharin said. “It reinforces my decision to kill you.”
“I suspect Dyffaya will notice that.”
Eharin gave her a familiar, contemptuous look. “He’ll notice your death. He won’t know my part in it. Soon, a young Marine is going to shell this house. He’ll believe he’s destroying the source of all those monsters. Sadly, I won’t be here to stop him.”
“Soon, but not now?” Funny how her mind caught on that one word. Such an optimistic word, “soon.” She’d like “tomorrow” even better, or “next month,” but anything that wasn’t now, right this minute, gave her something to hang her hope on.
“We wait for my other little surprise to catch Dyffaya’s attention. An explosion in the building where I’ve been holding services for his worshipers. He’ll send me to deal with that, leaving you here alone.” Her smile was as restrained as ever, but the sharp spike of red in her thoughts announced her bloodthirsty pleasure. That faded into the cool gray of intellectual curiosity. “You don’t seem as frightened as I’d expected.”
“Surprise dulls fear sometimes, and you’ve really surprised me. I could have sworn you thought too highly of yourself to break your sworn word.”
“If you refer to my agreement with the Hound, I haven’t violated one word of it.”
“And yet you swore not to harm me.” Kai might not have been a party to the deal Nathan struck with Eharin, but she knew he’d included that.
Smugness smeared itself over those lovely features. “No, that was the wording the Hound suggested. Much too broad. How could I know for certain what a human considers harm? And of course I couldn’t swear not to defend myself, should you try to harm me. So I swore not to use my Gift or other forms of magic on you, save in those ways a teacher must in order to correct or inform. I have not done so.”
She believed what she said. That bit of nastiness she’d attached to Kai’s thoughts while she was unconscious—no doubt that had been a training exercise, in Eharin’s mind. “So . . . why? Why are you here instead of in Aléri? You must know you can’t return. You aren’t part of court”—and that was a jab, yes, because Eharin resented that, convinced she’d never been properly appreciated—“but Winter samples thoughts widely at times. One stray thought at the wrong moment, and she would know what you’ve done.”
One eyebrow lifted in delicate scorn. “You believe the Queen cares what happens to you?”
“She cares deeply about what happens to Nathan.”
“Oh, yes, she cares about the Hound.” For a moment, her careful masks—the tight control of both face and thoughts—slipped. On her face was naked hatred. Her thoughts roiled with sulfurous yellow. “She spoils her pet, encouraging him to believe himself above the true people of the realms.”
“My God. You’re a Firster.” That was Kai’s name for the phrase that, in elfin, meant Elves First, a tiny group who had a lot in common with the KKK here on Earth. They believed that every evil of their worlds could be traced to the mingling of the races that diluted the purity of the elfin soul. “How did you hide that from Nathan?”
Eharin ignored Kai’s question in favor of what she wanted to say. “He had the gall to force me—me, a daughter of Ahedra!—to teach one such as you. The insult was too much. I will have my revenge.”
There had been no force involved. Kai knew that. Nathan had offered the woman a deal, and after some dickering, Eharin had accepted. But Eharin believed what she said. Her thoughts were twisted into distorted patterns by that virulent bitterness—the distortion of serious self-deception. “All of this is about taking revenge on Nathan?” she said incredulously—and then, thinking of Winter’s reaction: “You are going to die so slowly.”
Eharin’s face twisted so that, for a moment, it matched her thoughts.
“Eharin will be famous,” another voice said smoothly—another familiar voice, this one as much of a shock as Eharin’s had been. “She is composing a masterwork, though in a genre you may not be familiar with. Have you heard of p’tuth?” Malek asked as he moved into view.
Malek was a small man. He looked as trim and tidy in Dockers and a nicely fitted sports jacket as he had in the robes of court. The little dab of mustache beneath his pug nose looked just as affected here as it did there, too. She gaped at him.
He smiled at her. “You’re surprised to see me. That’s natural, though you must have realized Eharin had someone to help her with the little things. She couldn’t have carried you in here all by herself.”
Elves were stronger than they looked, but no, Eharin probably couldn’t carry Kai down a flight of stairs without help. But Malek was surely the last person she’d expected to see in that role—especially since Eharin had just revealed herself to be a Firster. “She couldn’t have traveled here all by herself, either,” Kai said slowly. “You can, though. You brought her.”
He gave a little bow, acknowledging that. “P’tuth is the art of revenge. Eharin composes a work such as has not been known for centuries. To take such subtle and complex revenge on one as powerful as the Queen’s Hound—it will be spoken of forever.”
He was just as slimy here as he was at court, too. His thoughts were coated in pus green. The color of lies.
Either Eharin didn’t notice, or she took his statement for the sort of empty courtesies commonplace among elves, especially at court. But it wasn’t. He was outright lying. Kai could see that . . . but Eharin’s way of se
nsing thoughts didn’t give her the kind of detail Kai got. Maybe she couldn’t tell the difference between a deliberate lie and the everyday insincerity of a flatterer.
“You’ve set the explosives?” Eharin asked him.
Another little bow, this one with a touch of flourish. His thoughts were gleeful. “Everything is ready. Do you wish to see the trigger?”
“I wish to have it,” she said sharply, and held out a hand.
He stepped closer, reached inside his jacket, pulled out a little snub-nosed gun, and shot Eharin in the face.
THIRTY-SEVEN
BRAINS and blood exploded out the back of Eharin’s head. Her legs kicked—quick, jerky motions with no grace at all. She toppled over—first onto the coffee table, and from there onto the floor.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long,” Malek said. He glanced at Kai, smiling. “I’m sure you have, too, and I do apologize for robbing you of the pleasure.”
Kai thought she might be sick. The smell, his smile, the fact that a few minutes ago she had wanted to kill the elf bitch . . . she swallowed.
“Made a mess, didn’t I?” He clucked his tongue. “Ah, well. We won’t be here too long, I hope. One more thing, and then I’ll see if I can make you more comfortable.” He took off his sports jacket, removed something from the pocket, and moved to the other side of the coffee table, where Eharin lay in an ungainly heap. He draped the jacket over what was left of her head.
When he turned around, she saw what he’d removed from the jacket. A hypodermic. Kai squirmed, but between her aching head and the ropes tying her wrists and ankles, she couldn’t do a thing to stop him. He pushed up her sleeve, which was stiff with dried blood—“You are something of a mess, too, aren’t you?”—jabbed the needle in her arm and depressed the plunger partway. Then, to her astonishment, he unbuttoned his own sleeve, pushed it up, and injected the rest of it into himself. “What is that? What did you just do?”
“A harmless virus. Nothing to worry about. But it’s alive, and so can carry the—I think you’ve been calling it a hook? The element that will let my lord bring us to him when he’s ready. Much simpler this way, isn’t it? Less painful, too.”
Not until hope broke apart on the hard ground of reality did she realize she’d let herself hope. She ought to know better than to have thought for an instant that slimy Malek was here to rescue her. No, he was here to collect her. She closed her eyes as a wave of defeat crashed over her.
“Head hurting?” he said sympathetically as he buttoned his sleeve. “I’m afraid I can’t do much about that, nor can I untie you. Is there anything else I could do to make you more comfortable?”
Kai blinked rapidly—which reminded her. Why not ask? “Eye drops,” she said. “They’re in my pocket.”
“I believe Eharin emptied your pockets, but the contents should be . . .” He moved out of her range of vision, reappearing a moment later. “Is this eye drops?” He held a familiar little squeeze bottle.
She started to nod, winced. “Yes. It’s my left eye. The contact’s stuck where it shouldn’t be, but with some lubrication it ought to slide back down.”
“Contacts.” He grimaced. “Many things here are delightful, so innovative—television, for example. Quite remarkable. But the healing sciences do leave something to be desired. If you’ll forgive the intrusion, I’ll have to apply the drops myself.”
He did so briskly. Again she blinked rapidly. This time, the contact slid back where it belonged. “Thank you.”
“Would you like to sit up, or would that make you dizzy?”
“I would prefer to sit up, yes.”
He huffed a bit—Malek wasn’t strong—but he got her upright, though she had to sit slightly sideways to accommodate her bound wrists. It did make her dizzy for a moment, and she swallowed bile at the increased thudding in her head, but it was worth it. “Thank you,” she said again. Courtesy cost little and sometimes paid dividends. She’s learned that much on her quests.
“I’m glad I could assist you,” he said solemnly. Surprisingly, that wasn’t a lie.
“Do you know what happened to José? The wolf who was with me.”
“Not precisely, but he was alive the last time I saw him. That was perhaps three hours ago. You were unconscious for quite awhile. Excuse me a moment. I believe I’ll get a chair.” He went to fetch one, a wooden chair with a needlepoint seat, and set it across from her. “There. Now we can chat. We may have a bit of a wait. My lord is extremely busy just now.” He sighed with what looked like happiness. “It will be so good to see him again.”
That wasn’t a lie, either. And . . . studying his thoughts, Kai had to conclude that he wasn’t compelled or beguiled. “You’re a genuine believer. In him.”
“I worship with my whole heart,” he said simply. “You’ll see why—soon, I hope, but if not, eventually you’ll understand and serve, too. I know you’ve felt rubbed raw by the elves—their condescension, their arrogance. You haven’t been exactly discreet. I did caution you about that, but in the end, it won’t matter.” He gave her a conspiratorial smile. “You’ll see. Dyffaya isn’t like that. He said he was besotted by us, and it’s true. He’s eager to claim us—to claim humans—as his people.”
He meant every word. He scared the shit out of her. “Um . . . do you know what he plans to do with me?” Not that she didn’t already know. He wanted to use her against Nathan. Nathan, I’m sorry.
His eyebrows lifted. “Haven’t you guessed? You’re to replace Eharin.”
She blinked. And couldn’t think of a thing to say.
Malek didn’t mind. He enjoyed having an audience. “Such a pathetic woman, so convinced of her superiority when she was really rather stupid. It never occurred to her that when Dyffaya wasn’t using her as a locus he might be using something else. A dog, a bird, a mouse—he isn’t limited to sentient loci, you know. He’s been aware of her plan to betray him for some time, but he couldn’t act until he had you in hand, so to speak, to replace her. And all that nonsense about him being too busy keeping track of his creatures to notice what she did!” He shook his head sorrowfully. “Eharin knew that Dyffaya controls the flow of time within the godhead, yet she failed entirely to see what that means.”
“My head hurts,” Kai said. “I’m not seeing it, either. Could you explain it to me?”
“Simply that he has all the time he needs to act. It wouldn’t do to have one of his creatures fail to honor their lord’s word, you know. Any who call on him must be spared.”
“He accelerates time in the godhead, you mean? So what happens here on Earth occurs very slowly for him, giving him time to respond.”
“Exactly. It’s tedious for him. For today’s events, he set one portion of the godhead to a vastly accelerated rate, and most of him will have to stay there until most of the creatures are killed or have expired. Still, some portion of his attention must remain with his guests—those like you whom he’s invited to the godhead—so he’s reset the guests’ portions to make this easier. They’re currently experiencing a very slow time rate, much slower than on Earth. I don’t pretend to understand that, but he’s a god. He can do much that is beyond my comprehension.” He sounded as proud as a father contemplating his infant’s newly acquired crawling skills.
“I see.” Malek was astonishingly willing to answer questions. Kai didn’t understand it. He was treating her as a colleague, aside from the little detail of keeping her tied up
No, as a future colleague. He was cultivating her now just as he’d done at court—because he thought she would have pull with the source of all power and authority. There, it had been the Queen of Winter. Now it was Dyffaya. “Uh, what do you mean about the monsters expiring?”
“Those that aren’t killed—and you took care of quite a few! A remarkable display, I must say, if unnecessary. They wouldn’t have killed you, you know, simply planted a hook. Th
ough I suppose they might have bloodied you a bit, and they probably would have killed your companions. You’d have regretted that, so perhaps it’s just as well you fought so fiercely . . . but as I was saying, those that aren’t killed will expire within a week or two. Whatever Eharin did to incite such ferocity in them shortens their lives.”
“What Eharin did? I thought Dyffaya—”
“No, my lord has many incredible abilities, but he is not a binder. That’s why he needs you.”
Dyffaya thought Kai was a binder? Gods, but that was going to make for problems when he learned the truth. Only Dyffaya also thought Eharin was—had been—a binder. And he’d been using her, so . . . Kai spoke slowly as she absorbed the implications. “Eharin was a binder.”
“She was quite sure she’d kept that from you. Apparently she was right about that much.”
“She kept it from the Queen, too.” Which would be considerably harder.
“It was fortunate she was never at court. Though once she crossed the line from mindhealer to binder, she knew she’d have to leave Iath, so when I approached her . . . oh, dear. You look distressed.”
“She started out a mindhealer. And became a binder.”
“Of course. Did she never warn you about—no, I suppose she couldn’t, or you might have guessed. And there are so few mindhealers, and they’re watched so closely—I suppose you never learned why. Most at court don’t know, either, and those who do wouldn’t speak of it. Apparently the Queen didn’t, either? No? But it does seem you might have guessed. Mindhealers are the only ones who can permanently alter a mind, you know.”
Kai could only stare. All this time she’d thought binders and mindhealers were separate—the Gifts similar, but distinct. Mindhealers were the good guys. Binders were bad. But mindhealers became binders if they crossed some line . . . “What’s the line?” she asked urgently. “What turns a mindhealer into a binder?”
