Dagger's Edge (Shadow series)

by Logston, Anne

  “I wish there was some way we could help,” Donya said regretfully. “But unless Ankaras is violating some city law, we can’t interfere—especially in this case.”

  “I quite understand,” Urien said graciously. “In fact, it has concerned me that you may be exposing yourselves to rumors of bias simply by allowing me to stay here, especially when I assume a position as High Priest of the temple. If I can’t find suitable lodging tomorrow, I think it will be best that I stay at an inn until permanent lodging can be found.”

  “Surely that’s not necessary,” Argent protested.

  “With respect, you and your lady are not the only ones who could be accused of bias,” Urien told him politely. “Ankaras and his priests, and those worshippers who are resistant to the change, might bring a similar charge if I were to remain here, that the High Lord and Lady were privately exerting their influence on me to change temple doctrine to

  suit them.”

  “Of course, you’re right,” Donya said firmly. “I don’t want anything to endanger your authority over the temple.”

  Jael fought down a sigh of disappointment. Although she was looking forward to helping Lord Urien with his search for a home, she had hoped that he would be staying at the castle for at least a few days, maybe longer.

  Urien turned to Jael.

  “I hope you haven’t regretted your offer to help me find lodging,” he said. “I hadn’t intended to avail myself of that offer so soon.”

  “A friend from the Heartwood is coming to see Jael tomorrow morning—” Donya began.

  “—but I can be ready to go at midmorning,” Jael finished hurriedly, ignoring Donya’s frown.

  “You have no idea how I appreciate this assistance,” Urien said to Donya and Argent, giving Jael a smile of thanks. “By the way, if you will pardon my boldness, I instructed my footman to bring samples of several of my family’s trade goods for you to examine. If the quality meets with your approval, I will attempt to market these goods in the city. I donate a good part of my profits to the temple, of course, and the temple here is small enough that the funds are desperately needed, especially as we will doubtless lose some worshippers with the change in doctrine.”

  “Probably more than some,” Argent told him regretfully. “The temple didn’t start the anti-elven sentiment in Allan-mere, only fostered it. Mercantile sects are popular in a city such as this, of course, but I’m afraid that the hostility toward elves came first, and Ankaras’s teachings simply attracted those people to the Temple of Baaros.”

  “In a trade city the size of Allanmere, I am certain the Temple of Baaros can flourish without the necessity of alienating the elven citizens and flaunting disrespect for the city’s laws,” Urien said smoothly. “As I said, I expect us to lose some worshippers at first, but I have no doubt the temple will benefit in the long view.” He smiled. “But let me return to my efforts to shamelessly forward my trade goods.”

  He raised one hand, and several of his servants came forward bearing trays. There were small cups of liquors and wine, samples of fine pottery and swatches of cloth, tiny bowls of spices, and cunning metalwork, including some jewelry. Jael was quite impressed by the latter items, intricately whorled gold work set with deep purple-red stones.

  “Especially when dealing with trade in a new city, my family deals primarily in items desired by the nobility,” Urien said, almost apologetically. “I selected expensive, high-profit items to maximize the benefit of a small shipment.”

  “There are a number of shops that deal almost exclusively within the Noble District,” Donya told him, fingering the cloth samples. “Goods of this quality always sell well, and new liquors and spices are constantly in demand. We have a number of fine jewelers in the city, so that’s more competitive, but I’ve never seen anything quite like this work.”

  “It’s wonderful stuff,” Mera announced, her mouth full of the sweets she was plucking from the platter.

  “Don’t eat so fast,” Markus muttered, jabbing his sister in the ribs. He had taken just as many sweets, but was busily stuffing them into his pockets.

  “Markus! Mera!” Donya said embarrassedly. “Gods, you’re more trouble than”—her eyes flickered involuntarily to Jael, but she recovered hurriedly—”than Ankaras.”

  Jael flushed furiously. Gods, did any member of her family ever miss a chance to humiliate her?

  “Oh, please let the young lord and lady have what they like, I beg you,” Urien said graciously. “I intended these samples as gifts—oh, I wouldn’t dare call them that, it might be misconstrued by some as bribery—but if my goods meet with such approval, what can I be but flattered?”

  “I don’t see any of the tea you were drinking among these samples,” Argent said curiously, sipping the wine from a small crystal cup.

  “I beg your forgiveness, High Lord Argent,” Urien said, dismayed. “I would have had to bring a large shipment of the black tea in order to make a suitable profit. I brought only a small private stock for myself, so it didn’t occur to me to bring a sample for you. But I would be more than happy to share—”

  “Oh, no, no,” Argent said hurriedly. He smiled, taking a bite of cheese before sampling another liquor. “As you may know, Lord Urien, I used to run an herbal shop in town with

  my sister Elaria, who now manages it alone. To be quite honest, I’ve tasted so many teas in my years in the shop that I’m afraid they’ve lost all attraction for me. I can’t even enjoy a good pipe of dreamweed these days—I find myself evaluating the resin content and speculating on the rainfall in the harvest year.”

  Urien laughed.

  “Do you know, I find the same thing happening every time I try a new wine,” he said. “High Lady Donya, you don’t want to drink that out of the cup. It’s Bluebright essence, quite potent. Take one of the lumps of sugar on the saucer beside the cup, and pour a drop or two on the sugar, then eat it.”

  “Bluebright?” Donya hesitated. “I’ve never heard of it.”

  Urien waved the tray over and took a sugar lump for himself, dripped a little of the liquid from the tiny spoon in the bowl, and popped the lump of sugar into his mouth.

  “I wouldn’t like to joust afterward,” he smiled, “but it’s quite safe. Bluebright has become something of a fashion in Calidwyn.”

  Urien was interrupted as Markus, fumbling through the goods on one of the trays, knocked over several of the small cups and bowls. Donya flushed, muttering apologies as she tried to clean up the mess. Urien gallantly dismissed the incident.

  While Donya’s attention was on Markus, Jael surreptitiously took a lump of sugar, dipped a corner in the liquid, and shoved it into her mouth. A furious heat burst through her mouth, melting into a delightful mintlike coolness; Jael sucked in her breath sharply and, glancing up, met Urien’s eyes. Urien gave her an engaging grin and a wink that promised he could keep her secret, then turned back to Donya, who had laid her sugar down on her plate.

  “If you don’t object, I’d like to have my herbalists examine this first,” Donya said apologetically. “I’m always a little cautious about a new intoxicant in town.”

  “Of course, of course,” Urien said easily. “Your caution for your people does you honor. I won’t attempt to market the Bluebright until you give me permission. And now, if you’ll excuse me—”

  “Of course,” Argent said. “Thank you for showing us the samples, Lord Urien, and for your news of the temple.”

  Urien stood, bowing over Jael’s hand.

  “I will meet you and your escort at midmorning, Lady Jaellyn,” he said. “Good evening.”

  “Good evening,” Jael said, blushing again, but this time not with embarrassment.

  Donya and Argent again walked with Urien through the hall, but this time Jael was glad for the opportunity to sneak away to her room while the twins still hovered over Urien’s samples. She had started to feel quite strange—light and floating, warm inside, but her skin was deliciously cool. Her every movement seemed won
derfully drawn out and slow, as if she moved under water. A little unsteadily, Jael made her way to her room, sighing with relief as she latched the door behind her.

  To Jaellyn’s surprise, there was a wooden box lying on her pillow. An apology from her parents? Jaellyn scowled. They had plenty to apologize for, no doubt of that. But forthright Donya would have simply apologized, and that would be that; quiet and thoughtful Argent might have given her a gift, but he would have given it to her himself.

  Jael reached for the box. It seemed to take hundreds of tiny motions before she grasped it. The design on the lid was strange; then Jael recognized it as the coat of arms that Lord Urien had worn on his surcoat. A gift from Lord Urien! Jael smiled delightedly as a familiar scent reached her nose—the black tea from Lord Urien’s own private stock.

  Jael opened the box. The tea was in small blocks, each block stamped with Lord Urien’s coat of arms and wrapped in thin parchment. The sweet, heady fragrance made Jael’s mouth water, and she lifted the small blocks out, admiring their precise edges. To her surprise, however, under the first layer of blocks of tea, at the center of the box, was a small pouch. Jael opened it, then gasped.

  What spilled from the pouch was a small pendant of the exquisite whorled gold work Jael had seen in the dining hall, in an unusual glyphlike shape. At the center of the pendant was one of the purple-red stones, this one as large as the nail on her first finger. Little flashes of bloodred light shone from the gem. The pendant hung on a long, breath-fine gold chain.

  The pendant had to be worth a small fortune. Jael smiled as she realized why Urien had hidden the pouch in the box of tea; Mother and Father, who worried when the lord paid attention to their child, would no doubt have made a positively legendary outcry if Lord Urien had given their daughter such a gift. Jael hurriedly lifted the chain over her neck, slipping the pendant into the front of her shirt and grinning to herself. Two special gifts, and in just a few days! It almost made up for the way Mother and Father had been treating her.

  Jael lay back on her bed, enjoying the floating feeling in her head. Quite a fashion in Calidwyn, eh? Hopefully it would become a fashion here, too.

  She poured herself a mug of water and lay sipping it.

  Perhaps she’d just stay up all night enjoying this wonderful watery looseness in her muscles, the feeling that her mind would drift right up through the ceiling. Yes, she’d just stay up all night and—

  Jael blinked as sunlight dazzled her eyes.

  “Huh?” she muttered.

  “I said, Mist is here,” Donya said irritably from the doorway. “Really, Jaellyn, you’re old enough to take your finery off yourself before you go to sleep. Change your clothes and come down to the dining hall.”

  Jael groaned and crawled out of bed, stumbling to the washbasin. The water in the pitcher was icy cold and shocked her face, and Jael realized that she was chilled through; sometime during the night the fire had died, and she hadn’t even roused enough to crawl under the covers. Her nose was already running.

  Something fell from the bed to the floor, and Jael picked it up, scowling puzzledly at the half-melted, twisted mass of metal in her hand. Surely it couldn’t be the mug she’d been drinking from. Had she gotten up and somehow dropped it in the fire, then later raked it out? Well, no time to wonder now. Shivering, Jael pulled on clean clothes and trotted down the halls. Fortunately, the fires in the dining hall had been lit long before, banishing the last of the chill from the huge room.

  Mist was sitting with Shadow and Celene, chatting animatedly over bread, cheese, and fruit. Jael smiled to herself. Apparently Aubry had been indulging his forest cousin’s vanity in the market; Mist was garbed handsomely in new pale green silks that contrasted beautifully with his pale skin and hair. Mist grinned proudly as he saw Jael noticing his clothes, but he rose and came to embrace her warmly.

  “Good morn, little fawn,” Mist murmured into her hair. “I missed you in the forest this summer.”

  Jael sighed and leaned her head on Mist’s shoulder, for a brief moment at peace.

  “I missed the forest, foster father,” she said. “But I missed you more.”

  Donya, looking profoundly uncomfortable, cleared her throat awkwardly. Argent chuckled and patted her arm as Mist followed Jaellyn back to the table.

  “When Celene told me that Jael was soul-sick, I was ashamed not to have seen it sooner,” Mist said, grinning wryly. “And I knew better than any of you the full extent of the old wild blood in her. Unfortunately, like you, I saw what was happening around her instead of watching Jael herself. It hardly excuses me to say that since I left my own clan, I haven’t seen a case of soul-sickness in decades.”

  “I still don’t understand what this—this ritual is supposed to do,” Donya muttered.

  “There are many possible answers,” Mist told her. “Most of the Hidden Folk would say that the Mother Forest uses the ritual as a gateway to heal the troubled soul. Some potions, such as the one used in the ritual, can temporarily heal soul-sickness by placing body and spirit in balance, and some believe that once that balance is achieved, the dreamer can then learn how to maintain it. Others believe, though, that the dreaming potion simply allows the one taking it to explore the hidden places in their own soul, and that the altars simply provide a safe haven and the proper atmosphere for doing it. There’s no doubt, though, that the altars are conducive to certain magical operations.”

  “That’s true,” Celene said, nodding. “The altars are a node that attracts and focuses certain natural energies in the forest. Servings, for example, are much clearer there, and healing magic is more potent and focused.”

  “All right, but what about the rest of it?” Donya pressed.

  “Well, I agree with Celene that most of the trappings are probably unnecessary,” Mist admitted. “The spirit journey is used as a kind of adulthood ritual in some of the hidden clans. The two days’ fasting simply purifies the blood and makes the potion more effective, just as wine affects us more strongly if we haven’t eaten.”

  “I don’t know that I like Jael missing her meals,” Donya said worriedly. “She’s so thin already. And just what’s in this potion?”

  “Why, I don’t know,” Mist said, frowning. “I never made it, nor have I ever drunk it.”

  “Elaria and I made the potion many times, before we moved to the city,” Argent said, taking Donya’s hand. “The shop has all the necessary ingredients. Dreamweed tincture, of course; a few other herbs and berries, roots and the like that you’ve probably never heard of, in a base of moondrop wine. A few of the ingredients are also dream-producing, like the dreamweed; others are sleep-inducing. The only ingredient of any real concern is dried and powdered snake-eye mushrooms. In large enough quantities the mushrooms are poisonous, even deadly, but only a tiny dose is used for the potion. Elaria and I can make the potion ourselves, to be certain it’s properly prepared and safe.” He turned to Jael. “If you still want to do this, of course.”

  Suddenly, with the five of them sitting there looking at her so soberly, Jael was unsure. Then Shadow winked at her, and abruptly Jael wanted to laugh. Other than two days’ food, what did she have to lose? At worst, she’d have an uncomfortable nap at the altars and a few bad dreams. At best, maybe she could sit at a table without finding bits of broken light globes in her food.

  “Of course,” Jael said, shrugging. “After all this trouble you’ve all already gone through, I’ve got to try, at least.”

  “Then you can begin your fast after breakfast,” Mist told her. “During your fast you may drink water, tea, or vegetable broth, and you may eat raw or plain boiled potherbs, but nothing else. As you’re so thin, I believe honey for your tea should be acceptable.”

  Shadow grimaced.

  “Fortune favor us, Mist, she’ll be pissing green by the time she’s done,” she said disgustedly. “No wine?”

  “It’s only for two days,” Jael said practically. “Besides, wine makes me sick anyway.” She shrugged
and glanced over the table. “Since this is my last meal, pass me some of that sausage, will you? And the cheese, and the bread and honey, and the potatoes.”

  “Donya tells us you’re helping the new priest of the Temple of Baaros find a house,” Shadow grinned. “That should distract you from your growling stomach. Say, when do I meet this champion of Allanmere’s elves?”

  “He should be at supper tonight,” Donya said quickly. “Supper will be early, because afterward Argent is meeting with some members of the Council of Churches. Why don’t you all come?”

  “I do thank you for the invitation, daughter,” Celene said gently. “But if I am going to move the other side of the Gate nearer to the altars, I’ll need to confer with several other mages, both here and in the forest. Two days will barely give me enough time for preparation and casting the spell.”

  Mist, who rarely came into town, had heard only a little of the news of the Temple of Baaros; he was vitally interested in the whole story and relieved to learn of Lord Urien’s purpose in coming. While Donya and Argent told him all that had occurred, Jael stuffed herself with as much food as she could hold. Fortunately last night’s experiment with Bluebright had had none of the ill effects Jael experienced when she drank wine or other liquors. Jael swallowed one last honey-smeared bun and sighed as she pushed away from the table.

  “Time to start starving,” she said regretfully. “If everyone will excuse me, I want to wash up before I meet Lord Urien.”

  There was just time enough for a brief splash in the bathing pool before Jael had to run for the main hall. Lord Urien was there with four guards—two of his own, and two of the Castle Guard, apparently Jael’s “escorts.”