practiced smile. When the women complied, he shut the door against the bright, chilly day.
The women lowered their hoods, and Tal saw the most striking difference between them: Feena's flame-red hair might, in another thirty years, burn down to the same ash gray as her mother's. Despite the decades between them, Maleva did not look particularly old. The faint lines at the corners of her eyes and lips spoke more of laughter than they did of infirmity.
'Thank you, Tal,' said Maleva. Tal noted her use of his shortened name. Most of his acquaintances called him 'Talbot' or 'Master Uskevren.' He did not mind such familiarity, but usually only his friends called him 'Tal.' Despite the good they had done for him, he still did not trust Maleva or Feena enough to consider them friends.
As Tal took the women's cloaks, Maleva's eyes scanned the room, much as Tal's had earlier. When Tal draped the garments across the back of a chair rather than hanging them in the wardrobe, Maleva glanced again at the big cabinet. Tal stepped quickly in front of it, offering his visitors a seat beside the fireplace.
Beneath their cloaks, the women wore simple dresses of homespun wool. Feena's was embroidered with yellow thread at collar and cuff, but her mother's was plainly stitched. Their heavy woolen vests and rough leather boots were the sort of things Quickly would use as a costume for rustic fools in one of her plays. Had the women arrived at Stormweather Towers in such garments, they would have been turned away at the servants' door. Even the stable boy had finer apparel.
When the women were seated, Tal poured them each a cup of tea. It was rich, black, and expensive stuff reserved for those rare occasions on which Tal's mother visited his tallhouse. While Shamur Uskevren appreciated the fine quality of the tea, Tal expected it was lost on these women who were used to living in a cabin beside the Arch Wood, days away from the walled city of Selgaunt.
'It's dark in here,' complained Feena, holding her cup in the palm of her hand. The ladies of Selgaunt would have shuddered to witness her awkwardness.
Maleva put a hand on her daughter's knee and squeezed gently. Feena wrinkled her nose in irritation, giving her a distinctly foxlike appearance. If she smiled once in a while, thought Tal, she would be very nearly pretty. But he had yet to see her smile.
Enough courtesies, thought Tal. He took a deep breath through his nose and smiled down at his visitors.
'I want to thank you both for all you've done,' he said. 'Despite our disagreements, I sincerely appreciate all you've done to help me since the 'hunting accident.' '
The words sounded anything but genuine, and Tal knew Quickly would berate him had he delivered such an unconvincing speech at the Wide Realms playhouse. He hoped Maleva and Feena had less discriminating ears.
Feena narrowed her eyes and somehow managed to look down at Tal, even though he towered above her. Tal knew she would not be satisfied by mere thanks, but that was all he planned to give them.
Maleva drank her tea without looking up at Tal, but he saw a faint, smile upon her lips. He realized that she knew what was coming.
'As you suggested, I've given my problem a lot of thought over the past month,' Tal continued, 'and as much as I appreciate your offer of assistance, I've decided to take care of it myself.'
Feena put her teacup down hard enough to send it spinning in its saucer. 'You can't,' she said. Maleva squeezed her knee again, but Feena wouldn't be quieted. 'You'll fail, and innocent people will pay for your stubborn pride.'
A red veil fell across Tal's eyes, and he felt a sudden urge to slap Feena's face. That would shut her up.
She held his angry gaze unflinchingly. She might be arrogant and infuriating, but she was not easily cowed.
Almost as quickly as the fury came, it slipped away again. Tal had been uncharacteristically irritable all morning, even snapping at Eckert when the servant balked at his plans for this discussion. In a sudden flash of regret, Tal decided he must apologize later. The thought calmed him enough to keep his voice even and reasonable.
'Then give me another alternative,' he said. 'If the only way I can have this potion of yours is to swear obedience to your temple, then I'll find another way.'
'Don't be a fool,' said Feena, rising from the couch. 'You need us. You need Selune. The wolf is stronger than you.' Tal knew that was probably true, but he felt another stab of anger when she added, 'More cunning, too.'
He felt the heat on his face and saw Feena's faint smile of triumph when she saw that she'd stung him. That only made him angrier, and he hated the feeling. The only other people who could make him so furious were his parents, and he could always keep it off his face and out of his voice when facing them. For whatever reason, Feena could break his composure with a word.
Tal took a deep breath before responding, a trick Quickly had taught him when dealing with hecklers at the playhouse. It worked, and he made himself smile, trying not to sound too condescending in return.
'I have friends who will help,' he said, 'without trying to manipulate me into serving their ends.'
'Your friends,' said Feena, 'know nothing about your curse. We do, and we can show you how to deal with it. You need our help.'
'Whether I want it or not?' asked Tal.
Behind Tal, the wardrobe creaked, but Feena was too angry to notice. Maleva, however, could not suppress a smile. She said, 'Don't you think your servant would be more comfortable out here, with us?'
Tal cleared his throat. 'Actually, it's Chaney. Come on out, Chane.'
The wardrobe latch clicked, and a narrow face peeked out. 'What a relief! It was stuffy in there.'
A short, boyish man slipped out and closed the wardrobe door, but not before Feena caught a glimpse of the hand crossbow he'd left inside.
'What, were you planning to kill us?' She sounded astonished and outraged.
'Of course not!' said Tal. 'You're the one who said / would need killing if things didn't work out.'
'Just a little sleepy juice on darts,' explained Chaney, finger-combing his straight blond hair. 'Little darts. They barely hurt.'
Both women stared back at him, obviously displeased.
'In case you decided to put a whammy on Tal,' added Chaney, 'like you did to me and Quickly back at the playhouse.'
He seemed oblivious to the twin glares from the women. While their gazes turned from him to Tal, Chaney smoothed the crushed velvet of his doublet. The fabric was old and worn, but it was finely cut and had obviously been quite expensive.
'After all we've done for you, you ungrateful-' Feena began.
Maleva put a hand on her daughter's arm. 'We aren't here to force you into anything, Talbot,' said Maleva. Tal winced at her formality and almost regretted asking Chaney to cover him as he did. 'I realize it's hard to trust us, after all you've been through. We should have been more honest with you from the beginning.'
'Should I come out now, too, master?' a tremulous voice called from the kitchen.
Tal slapped his forehead in disbelief. He had hoped to keep Eckert as a backup just in case. He sighed and said, 'Why not?'
Eckert's tall, skinny figure emerged from the darkness of the kitchen doorway. His blue-and-yellow livery was impeccably arranged, the Uskevren family crest-the horse at anchor-embroidered over his breast.
'Because I thought you might prefer that I remain… oh,' Eckert said.
He saw the expression on Tal's face and realized his blunder. Eckert wasn't usually so stupid, but he was easily flustered by danger. 'I'm terribly sorry, sir.'
Feena looked angrier than ever, but Maleva seemed to find the entire fiasco amusing.
'Is there anyone else hidden in the rafters?' she asked. Tal hesitated only a moment before addressing the fireplace. 'Lommy, it's all right to come out, now.'
A fine sprinkling of soot heralded the arrival of a tiny green creature the size of a spider monkey. Lommy shook his coarse mane of black hair, sending up a cloud of fine black dust, then galloped across the room to leap up and perch on Tal's shoulder. He fixed his catlike eyes on the two women.
'No hurt Tal, or Lommy get help!' he snarled.
Tal had never heard the little creature sound so fierce. The tasloi was the Wide Realms' clown, evoking laughs with his pidgin Common and a subtle gift for mime comedy.
