Jervik was halfway to tears. Pazel wished he could see the older tarboy's face, although he feared what he would see there was madness. But mad or not, Jervik had never come closer to sounding sincere.
'I've been a pig,' said the older boy, wringing the words out of himself. 'A stump-stupid pig. I been tearing you down for years. Woulda knifed you back on the Eniel, with your daddy's own knife. No Arquali on that boat had such a fine knife, my own was rusty trash. You didn't even know how to use that knife. You shouldn't have owned it, nor been such a cleverskins. Arqualis own things, Ormalis get owned. You shoulda been a slave, not educated, not booklearned and special. I was boss of that ship until Chadfallow put you aboard.'
'I know that,' said Pazel.
'Couldn't get you to blary respect it,' said Jervik with a sour laugh. 'You fought like a wee girly, but you always fought. I hated you. Rin's liver, I hated you so. It got to where I thought I'd kill you, in some dark place like this, the way a coward would do it, and — you're better, Pathkendle, better than me.'
'Jervik,' said Pazel, 'I'm not special. Things just keep happening to me. Ever since I was small. It's not me, mate. It's just — what happens.'
Jervik pulled himself up straight. 'I don't know what the blary hell you're talking about.'
'Well, look,' said Pazel, 'I — Pitfire, Jervik, what do you want to do now?'
'Told you already,' said Jervik. 'Switch sides.'
'Right,' said Pazel, thinking in a desperate rush, glad the dark was hiding his panic. There was no question whatsoever of trusting Jervik with their secrets. But he had to say something, and fast.
'Right, Jervik, here's the thing. We have this — circle, that's true. But there's so few of us, and if they catch us talking, they'll just stab us dead, or lock us in the brig and torture us until we snap.'
'That's plain as piss,' said Jervik.
'Exactly,' Pazel agreed, 'so you can bet nobody wants to get caught. That's why we made this little rule, Jervik. We have to all come together and talk it through, you see, before we bring anybody else into the circle. One mistake and we're dead, after all. You understand?'
'Yeah,' said Jervik, his voice abruptly subdued, 'I'm hearing you, loud and clear.'
He'd blown it. He'd said the wrong words, talked down to him a little too much. Jervik had risked everything to trust his old enemy. He'd never be able to stomach the humiliation of not being trusted in turn. Pazel braced himself. Jervik always fell silent like this, before he went off like a bomb.
Then Pazel started. Jervik was poking him in the chest. 'Tell me when,' he demanded.
'W-when?' Pazel echoed.
'When I can help. What needs doing, who you want out of your way. That's all I need to know, see? Just what you want done — you or Undrabust, or the Isiq girl. Now tell me if you understand.'
Pazel was utterly stunned. 'Yes,' he said after a moment, 'yes, I do.'
'All right then.' The shadow that was Jervik straightened and turned away. Pazel listened to his footfalls. Then, on an impulse, he hissed: 'Jervik! Wait!' and rushed up to him again.
'Well?' said Jervik.
'Listen, please,' said Pazel. 'If we're going to stand a chance, there's something I have to ask you. It's important, so don't take it the wrong way. Arunis chose to come after you — why you, and not somebody else? Do you have any idea?'
Jervik nodded at once. 'That's an easy one. But I won't tell you, 'cept you swear on your mum's heart not to repeat it to nobody.'
'I swear it, Jervik. I swear on her heart.'
Jervik paused, then made a sort of grunt of acceptance. 'It's like this. Arunis thought I weren't afraid.'
'Of him?'
'Of nothin'. And it's true, I ain't afraid of that much. Spells and sorcerers, aye — those spook me, and the Vortex would scare any man who ain't plum crazy. But that's just it. He hoped I was crazy-brave, inhuman like. Maybe-' Jervik hesitated, his voice suddenly strained. '-because of how I act. Fightin', talkin' proud. But soon enough he found out I weren't crazy, and he stopped payin' me so much attention. I been wondering why that is. Do you know?'
'No, I don't,' said Pazel, 'But… maybe he can only have his way with crazy folks. Maybe he can't get inside your head unless it's already a little cracked.'
Jervik said nothing. Suddenly he gave a violent shudder, as if shaking off some cold and clammy touch. Then he laughed under his breath. 'You're smart, Muketch. Smart enough to beat these bastards. I knew it when I followed Dastu down here, and when I waited in the dark. I knew this one blary time I was choosin' right.'
Hercol lay on his side, his left hand tucked carefully beneath his cheek. The first pale glimmers of day were seeping down the light-shafts, distilling absolute black to nimbus gray, carving shapes out of a void.
On the muscle of his upper arm lay Diadrelu. She had fallen asleep there, just minutes ago. He was wide awake, and frightened. He could not catch his breath.
When she woke, her hand clutched for a sword that was no longer there. Remembering, she turned over and embraced his arm with her body. Trembling with wonder. How the world had changed.
'This is what was happening,' she said, still holding him. 'Why I fought with you, why I kept seeking you out. I didn't know it was possible. I didn't know it could happen to me.'
'Possible?' he said.
'You're afraid. Don't be, love. This is a victory. This is why we're here.'
Hercol was silent.
'You're warm,' she said.
He kissed her shoulders, timidly, certain he was appalling her, that his lips and beard were grotesque in their hugeness. Dri shivered, and her arms tightened around him, and for a time he was less timid. Then his eyes felt again the pinprick of light.
'Dawn is here,' he said.
She moved in a flash, sliding from his arm to the floor, gathering her things in a swift whirlwind. In a few seconds she was herself again, the sword and knife buckled in place, the pack strapped tight across the spot his lips had brushed. He struggled into a sitting position, keeping his wounded hands out of the dirt. She ran up his chest like a short slope and threw her arms about his neck.
'I will keep nothing from you, nothing.'
'Nor I you,' he said, breathless. 'But you must go, my dearest, my heart.'
'We came aboard to steal the ship, Hercol. To wreck it on Stath Balfyr, our Sanctuary-Beyond-the-Sea.'
'Yes,' he said, 'I had begun to think so.'
'That chart in Ott's hand, that Pazel was made to read? We forged it. Do you see the sin of it now? You may have been pawns in Ott's game, once. But he remains a pawn in ours. We've depended on his machinations and his madness. We needed him to succeed.'
'Hush, lady — hush, and go now. There will be other nights.'
'No end to them,' she said, and breathed into his ear. Hercol closed his eyes, and for a moment the sound she made was enormous, larger than the envelope of wind about the Chathrand, stronger than the gales they had survived.
Then she fled. Hercol caught a glimpse of her, a running shadow as she passed through the bars.
'Dri!' he whispered.
The shadow stopped, and turned. Dri stepped back inside the cell and looked at him.
'I killed them,' he said. 'The princes, Judahn and Saromir, Maisa's boys. I didn't refuse Ott's command, I obeyed it. I murdered those children, for Arqual. It was me.'
'I know,' she said quietly. 'I have known for some time now. It is plain as a scar upon your face.'
'My great change of heart, of which I boast to other children, like Thasha who reveres me: it came only after those two boys lay dead at my feet. I tried to tell the Empress, before she put Ildraquin in my hand. I could not do it. I have never told anyone but you.'
Dri came forwards and touched his ankle. 'Thasha is not a child,' she said. 'And she does not revere you, Hercol. She loves you. It is a love well earned.'
Hercol looked away, as if regretting his confession.
'Hear me,' she said. 'There is a path out of the Ninth Pit, the Pit of self-torture, the bottommost. But you have only begun to seek it. This truth needs telling to other ears than mine. Will you stand before their mother, one day,
