Storm Rising

Firesong licked lips gone dry, and stroked Aya's back feathers 'Looking to blame anyone but myself?' he said tentatively. 'Searching for a scapegoat to be the author of all my problems?'

'Obsessing on finding a lifebond as if a lifebond meant the end to every problem in life?' Silverfox added dryly.

Firesong hung his head, thanking his Goddess silently for the fact that Silverfox had not ever learned of his plan to extend his life so that he could find a lifebond. I will tear the Sanctuary down and scatter the pieces tomorrow, he pledged Her. I will destroy it as I should have done in the first place.

Could it be that some of the taint of Falconsbane had lingered in that bloodstained place he had created? Could that also have been the origin of some of his madness?

If it was the origin, I still gave in to it, cultivated it, and cherished it. I, and no other. No one held me down and drove those thoughts into my head like so many spikes.

'I have been an idiot,' he told the kestra'chern remorsefully. 'Oh, Silverfox. No amount of ability or talent can make up for acting like a tyrannical madman.'

Silverfox smiled warmly, reassuringly. With question and answer, riddle and verse, encouragement and reproach, the kestra'chern led him gently to bare his soul to the bones. And a few hours later, Firesong knew—just a little—how An'desha had felt, in his arms, not so very long ago.

Karal struggled with his demon, after finally asking Natoli to give him a little time to himself to think.

Tremane is the only optimal choice to approach. We can't let the people of and in Hardorn continue to suffer—and we need them. Tremane is an honorable man by his own standards.

But Tremane had also personally ordered the cold-blooded murder of not only Ulrich but several other important folk of Valdemar and the Alliance. The only reason those other attempts had not succeeded was purest good fortune. But he still had the blood of two perfectly innocent people on his hands, both of them servants of their respective deities, which could by some lights make it twice as heinous.

Karal was having a difficult time reconciling the Tremane who had ordered those deaths with the one who went out into dangerous conditions to rescue children.

On the one hand, I want to open negotiations with him. On the other, I want to make him suffer as much as I have. Then I want to kill him slowly and painfully, the way Ulrich died.

If the latter reaction was wrong, it was only human. Karal tried to think of the greater good, but he could not get his thoughts past that anger. Just as much to the point, he could not see how they could trust someone who would write someone else's life off as casually as erasing a name from a ledger.

If I just knew why—if I just knew that he hadn't done it in cold blood, in indifference, the way An'desha described—

If I just knew he had regretted it, even a little!

If I just knew why he did it—

He paced until he thought he was going to wear a hole in the carpet, and still got no further than that. it was already full dark, and the darkness outside was no less impenetrable than the darkness surrounding his heart.

I can't agree to open negotiations with someone I can't trust! That's pretty basic to the proposition of negotiations, isn't it?

Only one man knew why Tremane had issued his orders, done what he had done, and that was Tremane.

I have to know. I have to talk to him. Somehow.

'I have to talk to Tremane,' he said aloud. Altra raised his head from his paws and stared at him as if he had sprouted fur and fangs.

:You must be joking,: the Firecat said flatly.

Karal shook his head. 'I have to find a way to talk to him myself, Altra, before the others do. I have to know why. And I need to know if he'd do it again. What's the point in trying to deal with someone we can't trust?'

:I could give you a number of answers, but I don't think you're in the mood to hear them.: