A knock at the door. Svann returned to the table and placed the vial of dust in his tunic pocket, where the stone should be. The vial was a little smaller, but at the moment the weight was comparable, and he found it soothing. When he was sure his clothes were straight and that his face betrayed nothing, he spoke. “Enter.”
Jakmor Gulder. Svann felt his lips tighten and forced himself to relax. It was unjust to think of this man as the beginning of his troubles.
“My lord.” Gulder bowed low, but without obsequiousness.
“You have something, Gulder?” Svann leaned back against the edge of the table and crossed his arms.
“I believe I do, sir.” The other man gestured at the doorway and Tel Cursar stepped through. Svann straightened to his feet again. If his troubles had started with anyone, it was with this young man.
“Why should I not have you killed?” he said to him. “You, Gulder! Tell me why I should not kill your boy?”
“Because he’s still useful. Aren’t you, Cursar?”
“My lord.” Tel Cursar did not wait for permission to speak. “I know where they’re going, sir.”
The tightness in his chest easing, Svann sat down on the table edge again. “Go on.”
The younger man came a few steps closer. “They’ll be going to the mines, moving roundabout, traveling at night. We can take a direct route. We can get there ahead of them.”
“Ahead of them.” Svann would have his soul stone back. And he would also have the girl. He could continue his research.
And there was something else. Something he had not let himself think about until now. She had been able to use the stone. That was clear, both from his own experience, and from the testimony of the soldier, Pella. What if he were able to use the stone to cleanse her? Was it possible for a woman to have the true magic? Would she be willing to give up the magic of the body, for the cleaner, purer, true magic of the stone? Was that what his great-grandmother had? There were histories that spoke of such things. There were orders of Shekayrin, the Marigold, the Crocus, and the Flax, which no longer had members, and in the scrolls they were spoken of in the feminine case . . . He blinked.
“The witch must be recovered,” he said. “She has much more to tell me, before her usefulness is done.” Another thought intruded. “Where did you say she is headed?”
“To the mines of the Serpents Teeth, my lord,” Jak Gulder said.
The mines? Svann felt his spirits rise. His hand felt into his tunic pocket and closed on the vial of dust. He would go to the source of the soul stone, and perhaps he would bring back more than just his own.
“WHERE did you get that knife, woman?”
Dersay almost dropped the knife in question, and the rabbit she was skinning with it. She hadn’t been paying attention at all. She’d been trying to see through the eyes of the owl who was sitting at the top of the tree, the way the griffin was teaching her.
She looked up, a little shocked at how close the strange uniformed man was. This would be a soldier, then. Her heart beat faster.
<
“It’s my belt knife.” It wasn’t until after she’d spoken that Dersay realized she maybe shouldn’t have answered the strange man. Here in the outer world the more natural thing would be to answer with a question. “Why?” she asked now, hoping it wasn’t too late.
“Women aren’t supposed to go armed.” The man came closer and squatted down on the other side of the small fire, holding his hands out toward the warmth.
Dersay hoped the soldier couldn’t see her trembling. Ganni had said it was important to show no fear, to act as though they saw nothing unusual. Two days ago, Dersay wouldn’t have imagined herself capable of acting calm, let alone of speaking with an outsider, but passing through that small village where the people knew Ganni had helped. One of the oddest things was that they seemed quite ordinary, just like the UnGifted of the Mines and Tunnels.
Ganni had laughed at her, or maybe with her, when she’d told him that.
“I’m not armed,” she said to the soldier finally. Was she acting naturally enough? “It’s just my belt knife. I’m not a soldier or a guard or anything.”
Another man stepped out of the trees. “What’s all this, Bernal?”
The man across from her straightened to his feet. “Just a woman cooking, Barrack Leader.”
“Does ‘just a woman cooking’ need three packs?” The Barrack Leader jerked his head toward the packs Ganni and Anapola had dumped when they’d left her here by the fire to go looking for signs of the Griffin Girl.
<
<
She could tell Weimerk was far away. His range for Far-thinking was much greater than hers, or Cuarel’s. Still, she felt better, knowing that he could hear her now.
“Are you simple, woman? I asked you a question.”
Dersay realized the Barrack Leader had been talking to her while she’d been listening for Weimerk. “I’m sorry?” she said, blinking and trying to look as much like Ennick as she could. She knew what the man meant by “simple.” Simple was good. Simple wasn’t a danger.
“I said put the knife down, and tell us where your friends are.”
Dersay put the rabbit carcass down on a clean patch of snow and laid the knife down next to it. She looked back up at the Barrack Leader and smiled as widely as she could.
“Where are the others?” the man asked again, slowly. A badly whistled tune made both soldiers turn and look over her head into the pine trees.
Ganni. She couldn’t read his thoughts, but she could tell who it was.
“Evening, gentlemen,” the old man said. He came right up next to Dersay and squatted down, laying an armload of deadwood on the ground. He was no longer carrying his sword, but his small ax hung from its loop on the back of his belt. “We haven’t much, but you’re welcome to share our meal.”
“Travel’s restricted. What are you doing here?”
Dersay marveled at how puzzled Ganni managed to look. She only wished she could control her face that well. But then, he’d had a lot more practice.
“We’re small traders,” Ganni said. He waved at the packs. “We’ve always traveled this route.”
“Through the forest? Who’re you trading with? Bears?”
Ganni grinned, as though he appreciated the joke. To Dersay, the man hadn’t sounded as though he were joking.
“Well, with respect, Commander, the road’s not so very safe as it once was.” Ganni did indeed sound respectful. “And frankly, the food in the forest is cheaper than what we’ll find elsewhere.”
The new man nodded before jerking his head at Dersay. “And you’ve got your permit for her?”
“Sir?”
“Women aren’t allowed to travel without a permit.”
“Oh, but I didn’t think that meant my own daughter, sir.” Ganni recovered quickly. No one would have suspected he’d never heard about these permits before. “I can’t leave her behind, you see how she is.” So Ganni had also picked up on her playing simple.
“You’ll have to come with us.” The officer turned toward the first soldier. “Check those packs, and bring them along.”
“But, sir.” Ganni lifted his hands, was starting to turn them palms upward, when both soldiers suddenly grew arrows, one out of his chest, the other from the left eye.
“That’s the last of them,” Anapola said, stepping out of the trees behind Dersay. “Why di
dn’t those stupid villagers tell us about these permits?” she asked. “What do we do now?”
Ganni began kicking snow and dirt over the small fire. “We’ll have to go.”
“Which way?”
Dersay waited, rabbit and knife back in her hands, to hear what Ganni would say. They’d been hovering around the spot where the Griffin Girl and her friends would most likely be leaving the road to turn toward the mine entrance. Always supposing they were using the road at all. But before Ganni could answer. . .
<
“Wait,” she said aloud. “It’s the griffin.”
<
She thrust her knife back into her belt and the rabbit into the food pouch. She could finish later. “The griffin’s found her,” she told the others. “We’re to go east. Now.”
The next patrol they saw in time to dodge without having to use the password. After that they were out of the city, and once in the country, Ker, Jerek, and Wynn traveled as much as they could at night, sleeping under hayricks or in the occasional outbuilding during the day. The few patrols they saw in the distance didn’t appear to be combing the countryside at all, and Ker guessed that Svann was keeping the loss of the jewel to himself.
Which meant one thing. He thought he knew where he could get it back. He thought he knew where they were going.
It was the morning of their fourth day out from Gaena, and Jerek had fallen asleep in a disused lambing shed they’d found. Now that they were once again in the foothills of the Serpents Teeth, there were fewer farmers’ fields and more pasture land.
“You think Svann could find us if he still had the jewel?” Wynn murmured.
Ker touched the spot where the jewel rested, held next to her skin where Weimerk’s claw had been. “No,” she said, keeping her voice equally low. “But I don’t think he has to.” She moved her hand away from the jewel. She was so exhausted, she sometimes couldn’t tell if she were Flashing.
“You mean, because he has Tel, he knows where we’re going.” It wasn’t really a question.
Ker wished the other girl would stop bringing up Tel. “That’s right.” She wriggled, trying to find a softer spot on the ground.
“So what do we do? Can we get there before them?”
“You mean the way we got to Dern Firoxi before Jak did?”
“So what, then?” Wynn sat up.
“I only know the two entrances to the mines,” Ker said, turning to face the other girl. “I think we can be sure that Tel and his new friends will be waiting for us at the one we came out of.”
“So where’s the other one?”
“In the Rija Vale, past Questin.”
Wynn blew out her breath. “That’s a long way. Can we get there?”
Ker shivered, but not from the cold. “I don’t know. I think we may have to try.” Her muscles still trembled and twitched when she tried to relax, still recovering from the Shekayrin’s experiments. Could she walk all the way to Questin from here? “Rest now,” she said. “We’ll decide in the morning.”
She was just drifting off when she felt a familiar sense of space and color.
<
Ker’s jerk caused Wynn to murmur. “Weimerk?” Ker spoke into the space she felt in her mind.
<
Ganni? If anyone knew of a different entrance, the old man would. Still . . . <
<
Ker drew in a deep lungful of air and massaged a sudden cramp in her thigh. “Wynn, Jerek, wake up. The griffin wants us to move.”
“You are sure she will come this way?”
Tel turned from watching the other men probing the rough folds of the rock face for the mine entrance, but the Sunflower Shekayrin wasn’t looking at him. Tel kept his expression subordinate-smooth just the same.
“Yes, sir. She has to; this is the entrance she knows.”
“And we are here before her?” Though Svann’s voice was still beautifully smooth and controlled, his clothes were beginning to look loose, and his beard hadn’t been trimmed or even combed in days.
“Yes, sir. That is, there’s no sign of her. Perhaps you could . . .” Tel’s voice died away as Svann’s gaze focused on him. The man’s grip on the little glass vial whitened the knuckles of his left hand. Tel was sure he hadn’t let go of it for at least the last day.
And he kept patting the griffin’s claw in the front of his tunic, just the way Kerida—no, he wasn’t going to think about the witch that way. Pella, standing on the Shekayrin’s other side, cleared his throat as Jak Gulder approached them from the rock face. Svann had brought only two Barracks’ worth of men with him, and Jak had been directing half of them in the search for the mine entrance.
“We’ve found it, my lord. Well hidden, just as Cursar told us.”
“Good. Very good.” Svann coughed into the fist holding the vial. “We have no way to know from which direction the girl will approach. Suggestions?”
“If I may, Lord Shekayrin.” Jak spoke up when it became clear no one else was going to. “We divide into three groups, two scout along each of the likely approaches, watching for the Nast girl. The third group stations themselves within the mine entrance itself, in case the girl and her friends somehow get past us.”
For the first time in days, Peklin Svann smiled. “Yes. I agree. Cursar, you are familiar with the place. Take five men with you and wait within the mine. Gulder, assign the others.”
“And you, sir? The mine might be the safer place.”
“Perhaps so. But I will remain outside. I may be able to help narrow the search, as the girl nears us.”
He can feel the stone, Tel thought. Svann wouldn’t say so aloud, since the loss of the jewel wasn’t common knowledge among the other men—and might never be if they could get it back. But if the Shekayrin could feel the soul stone’s presence, their task just became much simpler. She wouldn’t know it, but the witch would be walking into a trap.
Kerida frowned, looking upward through the bare branches of the thicket they were hiding in. <
<
“What’s up there?” Jerek whispered.
“The griffin,” she said, smiling and patting his shoulder when he blinked at her open-mouthed. “I can feel him up there, I just can’t see him.”
“What about the others? Are they anywhere near?” Wynn looked over with interest.
“They’re right here.” Ker rolled to her knees and crawled out into the open as shadows moved outside the thicket. Jerek and Wynn scrambled after her, the boy drawing himself up to his full height as soon as he was out.
“Ganni.” Kerida stepped back from hugging the old man to nod at the women behind him. Both were dark-haired, one armed with sword and bow, and another, older and smaller, smiling shyly from behind the first. Ker drew Jerek forward with an arm around his shoulders.
“Here he is, Ganni. This is Jerek Brightwing, Prince of Farama.” The boy looked up at her and smiled before stepping forward.
A bigger smile spread over the old man’s face, and his eyes lit up as he reached out. Without hesitation, Jerek grasped his hand.
“You know what we are, young lord? You’re not afraid?” Ganni had his head tilted to one side, his eyes narrowed, though they still sparkled deep within.
Jerek straightened his shoulders. “I know,” he said. “And I’m happy to meet you.”
Ganni nodded. Still holding Jerek’s hand, he sank down to one knee.
“You are so very welcome among us, my lord. So welcome as the sun in Seedmonth.” Then the old man did something Ker had only heard about in stories. Still kneeling, he touched the back of Jerek’s fingers to his wrinkled forehead. The boy’s face flushed red before turning pale again.
Ganni stood and gestured the other two women forward. “Here are Dersay Far-thinker and Anapola, also dwellers in the Mines and Tunnels, here to find and guide you, my lord.” The women only bowed their heads, however, though Anapola gave him a sloppy salute.
“It’s where you’re going to guide us that worries me just now, Ganni.” In as few words as possible, Ker told the old man what had happened to Tel, and why they expected Svann and his people to be waiting for them.
“I’m so very sorry to learn this of your soldier, my dear. So very sorry. He was a fine man.”
Ker clenched her jaw as Ganni patted her on the shoulder. “And might be again one day, Ganni, but right now I’m more concerned about what we’re going to do. We wondered about using the Rija Vale entrance near Questin, but is there another one closer?”
Ganni shook his head, his lips pressed into a line. “Simcot Exit was always the closest, my dear, that’s why you used it in the first place. Closer than Questin?” He scratched at his unshaven chin. “Nothing that’s any easier to get to, I’m very much afraid.”
“That’s the point, isn’t it,” Wynn said. “I mean, I’ve no head for strategy, truth to tell, but even I can see we increase our chances of being caught by someone if we walk all the way to Questin, even if we avoid our own particular Sunflower Shekayrin.”
“Better the evil we know,” Jerek said, glancing around as they all looked at him to continue. “It’s something our Factor used to say. You’re better able to deal with the things you already understand.”
“Oh, we’ve all heard the saying, lad—I should say, my lord prince,” Ganni said. “But I’m not sure—”
“Svann doesn’t have his jewel,” Ker said. She thought she could see where Jerek was going, all right. “In that sense, he’s the safest Shekayrin we could meet. We don’t know how many men he’ll have with him, but I know someone who can tell us.” She looked up. <
Dersay, the Far-thinker, looked up, smiling.
Halls of Law Page 43
