Four and Twenty Blackbirds

recopied the set of notes he'd ruined.

'Impressive,' he said quietly. 'Deliambren?'

She nodded. 'One of those things that you have to have connections for. I can get another from Arden, and considering who gave me that, I really ought to.' She smiled crookedly. 'Weare supposed to discard everything from our past when we take final vows; I should have gotten rid of it long ago.'

And was that reminder of what I am meant for him or for myself?

He finished his notes and went away, intending to go across the river and try to catch Fenris in his office to set up that conference for the next day. She played with the quill pen that he'd ruined for several minutes, caught herself caressing the feather, and threw it angrily into the wastebasket.

She was having a serious crisis of conscience, there was no doubt of that. But second-guessing her life- decisions was not going to solve anything.

The cure for all of this is work,she decided, and went back to that old file of defrocked Priest-Mages. There was something there, sheknew it had to be there, if only she could figure out what it was. Thanks to Tal's investigative work, there were some she could remove from the file altogether—although she left the drunk in. The drunkard-act could have been just that, an act, intended for the benefit of Tal alone. No, she would not dismiss him just yet.

But if I'm going to keep him, perhaps I ought to reconsider some of the others I'd dismissed.

She came to the file of Revaner Byless; she remembered him with extraordinary clarity, and every time she reread his file, she became more convinced that he fit the profile of their killer perfectly. But although the Black Bird had escaped, it was surely dead by now—

And how could he be doing all this as a bird, anyway? How could he possibly work magic?

But—maybe he wasn't a bird anymore.

A sudden thought struck her with the force of a blow—the recollection of an incidental comment that Tal had made.

Dear and Blessed God—didn't Tal say that Visyr had seen some sort of odd bird around during the first murder?

She scrambled frantically through her notes, but couldn't find any mention of it. She drummed her fingers on the table, wanting to leap up and take a horse across to Arden's Palace, rouse the poor Haspur from sleep, and interrogate him then and there!

I can't do that. It can wait until the morning. I can talk to him in the morning. The killer has already taken his victim, and he isn't going to take another for a while. It can wait until the poor creature is alert and able to actually remember things. What's more, there are other things I have to put into motion now, if it's him, and those can't wait at all. She wrote out a note to Visyr and had Kayne find her a messenger to take it over immediately.

If Revaner is alive and this is his work, then Robin and Talaysen's wife are in danger, terrible danger!She'd tried to send oblique warnings once, but now shehad to be more direct. She hastily wrote a letter to Talaysen and another to the Gypsy named Raven in the Duke's household who might know where Robin was or how reach her to warn her—then wrote a third to Arden asking him to send the first letter to Talaysen by special courier. As she finished her letters, the messenger Kayne had gotten out of the Guard-room presented himself, and she gave him all four missives.

Her work wasn't over for the night, and she knew it. Revaner! This would certainly explain the pattern of victims.

When we caught the blackguard, he was working with a Guild Bard named Beltren. I think we should have a little interview with Beltren, she decided, and reached for pen and paper again. She addressed the letter to the Guildmaster, and phrased it in such a way as to make them believe that she had a commission in mind for Bard Beltren. And I do have a commission for him, she thought sardonically, as she signed and sealed it, I do want to hear him 'sing,' as the thieves cant has it. I want to hear every note he can 'sing' about Revaner.

Now she had a last set of letters to write, all of them brief and to the point. It might be that Revaner was already gone on his way after Lark or Robin, and in that case, she had to warn anyone who would listen about the danger he represented. That meant any and every Free Bard and Gypsy she had ever come into contact with, for there was no telling what direction he might take, or where he might go. From the Free Bards resident in Kingsford to the Gypsy called Nightingale who was the High King's own special musician; all must have every scrap of informationshe possessed. Above all, they must watch for the Black Bird. . . .

She still did not knowhow he was doing the killings and there was no telling when or where he might strike. This, too, she told them. Admitting that she, and by extension the Church, was powerless in this situation was galling—but better a little loss of pride than another life lost.

This took precedence over any personal matters. She continued to work in a frenzy, long into the night, writing and dispatching letters to anyone she thought might be able to warn those at risk.