Gods of Shadow and Flame
Page 39
Powerful shoulders tensed such that muscles stood out in stark relief as he put down his harp and stretched, Alacabar gazing reflectively out the paneled glass window, lost in momentary reverie, before picking up his lute once more. “At least, young Malek, she is free of our burdens as well. Perhaps it was a blessing of sorts, in her case. She does have the wonder of her garden, after all. That Arthur's oldest daughter also happens to be a Druid is a fact denied by no one, what with her creation of a garden lost in perpetual spring, dreaming up entire buildings and miles of fertile land being a wonder no mage upon the face of Dawn could hope to duplicate.”
Malek frowned. “I had thought there had been changes, even in the time between my own visits but, well, a lot had been going on, and I really wasn't sure if I had just forgotten that it had always been that vast. With so many buildings made entirely of wood housing so many noble families this bitter winter, perhaps I should have wondered, but, well, they all seemed to fit together somehow, as if they had always been there.”
Alacabar smiled. “I have been at this game a long time, my brother, and I can recognize dreams given permanent form in the waking world better than most. Fear not, they are as real as any building. Only their past is a dream, flowing gently into the reverie of history, today as real as any object under the midday sun.”
Malek stretched, feeling the gentle pull of fatigue caress his racing mind at last. “When all is said and done, I’m glad she’s out of the mad game we take such pleasure in playing, knowing some day it may well mean our end.”
Alacabar gazed quietly at his friend. “A mad game indeed that we embrace in Shadow, young Malek. And one I’d counsel you to think over long and hard, before playing it in the waking world as well.”
Malek closed his eyes and grimaced. “So, you think Gregorian was so forgiving of my berserker fury because I might be of use to the Guild as a blackened dagger at some point?”
Alacabar chuckled. “Really, Malek. Do you have any doubt of that at all?”
Malek shook his head. “Sadly, no. Still, it was good to feel like I wasn’t a raving monster for a short while, at least.”
"Cheer up, boy. As I said, a little self-loathing for the creatures we've become is fitting balance for the fierce pride we all feel in the power and vitality we have ripped free from Shadow, vainglorious as it is." Measuring eyes gazed carefully into his own. "I find for myself, dear Malek, that keeping my darker deeds firmly in Shadow lets me breathe a bit easier here in the waking world. I would counsel you to consider that truth, and how you first felt with the blood of those men upon your hands this eve, before you decide to walk the Darker paths the Guild offers its strongest members."
Malek grimaced. “I understand, Alacabar. I would want you always to walk with me as a brother.”
Alacabar blinked, momentarily surprised. “Oh understand me, boy, Guild assassin or not, you will always be a brother of my heart. I would always walk by your side into realms of dream and madness, and happily so, whatever you decide. I give the counsel I do for your own sake, not mine. And whatever you choose, save a gentle rebuke perhaps, I will treat you the same as always, though I pray you will always do your best to walk the just path, to kill for cause and not simply for a fat purse. We have the prizes of Shadow for that!” He and Malek shared a chuckle before his gaze turned serious once more. “Did he tell you about Morlekai’s own strides upon the shadowy path?”
Malek grimaced, shaking his head. “He had the grace not to do that, at least. Though the thought of Morlekai as an assassin is a chilling one indeed.”
Alacabar’s eyes twinkled. “It is indeed. And the man is a far more principled dagger than most realize, for all that he is perhaps the maddest of all of us. And that, dear boy, is saying something.”
Malek cocked his head, gazing curiously at Alacabar. “Then what could possibly have enticed him to… wait a minute.” Then it hit him. Suddenly, intuitively, he understood the one thing that would cause his friend and leader to walk such a dark path, to kill without pity or remorse, to put every principle and ideal he had on hold, save one.
He remembered the haunted gaze he and Jess had shared, feeling almost protective of the pair as they had spoken, trembling hands stroking Jess's cheek.
If Appolonia hadn't stumbled upon them in the grove that day, by their mother's designs no doubt, there was no telling how far they might have gone.
But the look in the man's eyes had been unmistakable.
When Malek had wanted to put their own fanatic quest on hold, to stay at the ready even as Twilight warned that a storm was coming, one that Jess would somehow be caught up in, Morlekai had not said a single word in protest.
And once they had pieced together the true depredations being committed by a certain faction amongst the inquisitors, after Malek's savage reprisal at the academy itself, Morlekai had all but disappeared, off to commit acts of a nature Malek was suddenly certain he would both admire and be sickened by, the infernalists' final gambits against Jess had seemed almost... desperate.
Vilicent. That vile agent who had sold his soul for darkest power, seeking to ambush and slay Malek, capture Apple, and seize the writs they had secured, all to assure Jess's demise. Or the captain who had sought to take Jess down, not through convoluted schemes over the course of weeks, as had the vile Franken, but, according to Twilight, by seizing the moment with a single gambit, and once Jess had called Captain Vardelos's bluff, he had done his absolute best to strike her dead, with artifacts of darkest origin, just like Franken's had been.
Malek had seen Morlekai's eyes after each of those incidents, crackling with a fury that mirrored his own.
He suddenly had no doubt as to his leader's mysterious comings and goings, why they had all been left to their own devices of late, their mad quest for redemption aside.
Blackened dagger indeed.
Malek shook his head as it all clicked into place. "It was for Jess, wasn't it? Back when her powers involving the ancient art of Claimance first came to the fore, that damned consortium of lords that wanted the Calenbrys put down. A pack of bloody jackals eager to hamstring their betters in a vulnerable moment, devour what prizes they could before the king himself took the lion's share. I understand that a number of them perished under rather... gruesome circumstances. And suddenly the cries for Calenbry blood stopped. Duke diOnni, good man that he is, had looked pleased as punch back then, thinking his own levers had called off the pack, but I think it was something else.
"And then that damned Captain Franken and his cronies... trying so hard to take Jess down. I'll tell you, Alacabar, never had I felt such pressure as when Apple and I had been trying to secure those writs, pay off all those debts and save Jess's hide. What I would have given for you all to be by my side. But come to think of it, maybe everyone had other things to worry about." Malek nodded to himself, Alacabar's enigmatic gaze giving nothing away. “Of course he was close. In the capital, as was I, smoking out snakes even as I sought to smooth over debts. So when he sensed my distress, I suppose, he was not too far away.”
Malek chuckled softly. "Corrupt agents, diabolical inquisitors, what more suitable prey for our most beloved comrade-in-arms? I have no doubt he would be willing to stain his soul with a sea of blood, if it meant protecting our Jess from harm, as would I." Malek bowed his head. "I am more grateful than I can say, for what he has done, for what you all have done on my behalf, on Jess's behalf. From the shadows, without saying a word."
Alacabar gazed a Malek for a long appraising moment, his fingers plucking a thoughtful tune. "What a noble hound you are. Fearsome instincts and a loyal heart. I knew you had some redeeming qualities. Fear not, you owe me no debt. I have your back, lad, as I know you have mine. And if I have done any favors, I promise you, I relished the opportunity. Certain strains of filth have no business walking upon the face of Dawn." His grin was a fierce thing. "Our leader has taken a great many goings on personally, of late. But you need not fear on his account. He has more expe
rience at this sort of thing than you or I will ever have."
He yawned then, his hauntingly beautiful melody slowly winding down. "And had you dared to have this conversation with me in any place save our warded quarters with me in a musical mood, I would have cracked that stubborn jaw of yours before you spat out your silly conjectures. So let's put all such thoughts aside, and pray that your shieldsister manages to keep out of trouble so that nothing untoward occurs. Though to be honest, boy, I think the worst has passed. Ulric himself has had nothing but praise for the Faerie Queen's champion since his return, Jess and her clan now firmly in royal favor. As long as she does naught but putter about in her lovely garden, I cannot see anything but a happy ending to her tale."
Malek gasped and flushed. "Gods above, you're right." He looked up. "Even wards only get you so far," he gazed with growing awe at his companion's beautiful instrument, the frame of wood and gold, exquisitely polished, of a grain exotic and strange. The strings were of pure, untarnished silver, or perhaps moonlight given substance and form. Malek gave a rueful shake of his head. "Not all prizes discovered need be sold, after all."
Alacabar chuckled softly, ending his song with a final brush of the strings. A priceless artifact claimed from the Dreamrealms, notes impossibly pure, and perhaps the very plucking of the strings rendered one immune to spies or agents who might otherwise listen in. Fool Malek would be to say it aloud, though, when his friend had already stopped playing. "To sleep then, brother," Alacabar said, after carefully placing his lute within its silk lined case. "'Tis late indeed, and best we rest now if we wish to blend in on the morrow. For despite all our gifts and mad Delver's strength, we do tend to get a bit funny in the head, as if we were in living dream itself, when we go too many nights without sleep."
Malek fought to resist a yawn of his own, to little avail. "Till the morrow, my friend." And almost before his exhausted head touched down-filled pillows, he was fast asleep.
36
“Del Malek. The Guildmaster requests your presence at the dining hall, at your earliest convenience.” This from an obsequiously bowing servitor carefully stepping back from a yawning Malek blinking sleep from his eyes and only slowly remembering the night before. “I took the liberty of preparing your finest clothes, sir, and the Guildmaster would take it as a personal favor if you would forgo the equipping of your dread blade for this breakfast at least. I also took the liberty of polishing one of our fine longswords for your wear, should you acquiesce to such.”
Malek shook his head as all the pieces slowly clicked together in his sleep-addled mind. "I'm sorry, why does Gregorian wish me to look the part of a peacock this morning?"
The graying servitor ventured a polite smile. "It appears that our master saw fit to give the good news to the families of the children you had so very nobly saved, the families then escorted here to be reunited with their children and to hear the tale of your valor as recounted by our most noble bards."
Malek chuckled softly. “Ah. So I am part of a public relations gesture on behalf of the Guild.”
The older man ventured a polite smile even as he helped Malek change, straightening the lapels of his crimson doublet, his fine cotton undertunic a brilliant white contrast. "It never hurts to make a good impression with the common folk, my lord. And no man turns down a full belly for his family. I have no doubt that for most, this will be the finest meal they have ever eaten." With brisk efficiency the man even ventured to tame Malek's tousled mop of dark brown curls. A bit of oil, a bronze hairpin or two, and the man had actually managed to tame his unruly hair into a warrior's tail. Malek was impressed.
“Thank you. Lael, yes?”
The man gave a pleased nod. “Your pronunciation is perfect, my lord. And here is your sword for the occasion. If you will follow me?”
Malek smiled and nodded, well aware that it must have been Alacabar that had given the man entry. Still, his most precious possessions were to be left in this room at least for the nonce, and he felt as protective of them as any mother hen. "One moment, Lael." And with that he closed his eyes, summoning crimson magics that came so brilliantly to him in the lands of Shadow, but here took diligence and concentration to grasp ahold of. Nonetheless, his kills the night before had fueled him in ways he shuddered to contemplate, and far easier than he had expected, he felt his power ooze into the keyhole. “I would suggest you make sure all know to leave our rooms alone, during our absence,” he cautioned Lael.
Lael gave a polite bow. “If you would be so kind as to turn the wheel on your door frame, my lord? So no servitor makes an unwitting mistake.”
Malek gave a sheepish smile, turning the enchanted piece of wood so it shifted color from ivory white to dead black. A prudent precaution, Malek allowed, thinking of all the dark talents many a Delver developed, to say nothing of a paranoia for their personal space. It was best all servitors knew the signs that an adventurer wanted his quarters untouched, to avoid unnecessary tragedies.
Lost in his thoughts, Malek followed the gracious servitor down the stairs to the dining hall, receiving more than one admiring glance on his journey, greeted at last by several dozen smiling faces turning to face him in unison as he approached their destination.
Malek blinked, caught off guard by both the grateful expressions of several dozen men and women raising their cups and cheering his name, and the cheerfully grinning child who dashed up to him, cheeks glowing with happiness and a few good meals. Malek hardly recognized Jacey, such a remarkable difference a full belly, warm bed, and the return of her family had made. Gone was the look of utter despair that had haunted Malek the moment he had gazed upon her. Here instead was a happily babbling child, hugging him so fiercely with her still too thin arms.
Blinking back the hot prickle of tears, Malek gently bent down and oh so carefully hugged her back. “How are you, little one?”
“Thank you, Lord Malek. Thank you for rescuing me. When I grow up? I want to marry you! Guess what? Mommy and Lucile are here. Mommy said she has never seen so much food in all her years, and Lucile ate three meat pies. I think she is going to be sick," she whispered confidentially to a grinning Malek, who gazed at the little girl even then looking a bit peckish as she rested in her mother's lap, Anja gazing back at him with a look of such gratitude he felt a tight hot ache in his chest.
So this is what it feels like to be redeemed, he thought to himself.
He turned back to the little girl who had taken that moment to grab his hand and gently pull him to follow her. "I think you might be right about your sister, little one. Let's ask one of the servitors for crushed peppermint for your sister to chew and to rub on her belly."
Jacey’s eyes brightened at that. “Oh, wonderful! Is that magic? Are you a healer?”
Malek smiled. “No, dear one. Just a bit of herbal lore my shieldsister taught me.”
Shortly thereafter, Malek found himself seated amongst the careworn families gazing up at him with such gratitude, their words so heartfelt they choked up as often as not, and Malek had to fight not to tear up any further than he already had, Jacey having firmly ensconced herself in his lap. He found himself stroking her soft locks even as he smiled and nodded at all the kind words, the delicately posed questions, assuring each and every one he was grateful to have been there where he was most needed.
“But, my lord, how did you know where to find our babes?” More than one parent asked, gazing at him with barely concealed awe.
Malek could only smile and shrug his shoulders. “I just followed my intuition, really. I had a sense that something was wrong, terribly so. I guess you could say I just followed my heart.”
Anja gave a fierce nod. "His is a noble heart, like a paladin of old! Oh, I swear I saw him shake with outrage for my poor little Jacey, waif of a child that she is, and no kinship to him, yet still he felt a mother's love and made my pain his own. He caught her scent with his magic arts and tracked down those monsters, and laid them low with his grand sword of vengeance!”
“He saved us,” one of the little boys nodded quietly. “And he ran that evil captain through, because the captain didn’t keep his word!” Malek flushed at that, though he certainly appreciated that redeeming spin on his actions.
"That is right, little one." Gregorian, the Guildmaster himself spoke then, condescending to take his ease with the common folk as if he were one of them. Malek couldn't tell if he was simply playing a role, or truly felt a connection to these men and women. Either way, it hardly mattered, Malek decided. He was willing to help them, and that was all that Malek really cared about.
"Our noble Delver, brave and true, did indeed lay low those vile slavers. But those sailors Malek promised to spare, so long as they sailed you children back safely, he did indeed let go unharmed. For even if they were foul and rotten men who deserved no mercy, a Delver always keeps his word."
Everyone nodded solemnly at that, and Malek did his best to hide his smile. The grand feast of a breakfast continued well past lunch, Alacabar joining them as well with a hearty grin and kind words for his adventuring brother.
Malek couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so happy and at peace with himself, wishing he could share the feeling with his shieldsister. At that moment he sighed, gently stroking an animated Jacey's soft locks once more, finding his mind wandering to heretofore uncharted territories such as what it would like to be a father himself one day, if such a thing were even possible. He smiled then, thinking that being an uncle to Jessica's future children would be a fine thing indeed.