”
Thasha grew pale.
“He chattered on for a while,” said Neeps, “about a ‘plan’ for you, and how Ramachni was essential to it, and the Lorg School as well.”
“The Lorg!” hissed Thasha.
“But Thasha,” said Neeps, “Felthrup didn’t make it sound as though Ramachni had made the plan. The way Felthrup talked, he was just there to help. The plan was hers.”
“Erithusme’s?”
Neeps nodded. “I think so, yes.”
“Well, I think you’re cracked,” said Pazel. “All this because Felthrup babbled to himself one night? He wasn’t just being attacked by Arunis then, you know. He was suffering from the fleas that the Nilstone had cursed. You’re putting a lot of faith in one hysterical rat.”
“But it fits, don’t you understand?” said Neeps. “Why else would she be the only one in this blary world who can put her hand on the Nilstone and live? And what about the other night in the wagon?”
Thasha blinked at him, frightened now. “You still haven’t told us what I said.”
“It wasn’t your voice,” said Neeps.
“Tell me,” said Thasha. “I’m ready.”
Neeps and Marila looked at each other. “You shouted a few curses,” said Marila, “with words like Maukslar and Droth in them, words I’ve never heard before. But then you said, He is going to steal it and loose the Swarm. What are you waiting for? When will you let me strike? That was all. You howled a bit after that, and then you dropped back into your chair and slept until we got here, soaked with rain. You broke the wagon cover.”
“And you tossed Hercol aside with one hand,” put in Neeps. “You know what I think, Thasha? I think Erithusme was speaking through you for a moment. I think, somewhere, your mother is still alive.”
“Of course she is.”
They all whirled. Straight across the enclosure, gazing in through the wall of crystal, stood Arunis, laughing. Counselor Vadu stood beside him, along with half a dozen birdwatchers-and Greysan Fulbreech. How Arunis had managed to hear them from such a distance was unclear, but he had replied by shouting at the top of his lungs.
The four youths rushed from the sleeping chamber. The others were on their feet, facing the glass: all save Mr. Uskins, who shrank down into the shrubbery and wrapped his arms about his head.
“Yes, Thasha, your mother Syrarys is very much alive,” said the mage. “She’s in the house of King Oshiram even now-his house, and his bed-making certain the upstart does not cause any trouble in the Crownless Lands, before our glorious return. Another safety precaution on the part of Sandor Ott. And Syrarys herself? Why, she is another tool the spymaster thinks he owns, like Fulbreech here. When in fact I had only loaned them to him, for as long as it profited me to do so. Listen, Thasha: Isiq’s wife was barren. She could no more have children than she could walk through walls. Syrarys gave birth to you, and tolerated you with effort, for ten long years. She told me a great deal about that effort. She dreamed of the day it would be over: with Admiral Isiq handed to Ott for torture, and you in the Mzithrinis’ hands, awaiting death.”
“Your own death grows more certain with every word you speak,” said Hercol.
Arunis turned to Vadu and raised his hands, as if presenting evidence of something they had already discussed. Vadu frowned at Hercol, and his head bobbed up and down. “That was an unwise remark,” he said. “I cannot release anyone whose stated intention is to commit murder. Especially when the declared victim is a guest of the city.”
“I thought we were guests of the city,” said Chadfallow.
“You’re here because you’re ill, Doctor,” said Fulbreech, smiling his handsome smile.
“Correct,” said Vadu. “I suggest you all work in good faith with our specialists. If anyone can help you, it is they. Be glad you were brought here. Your shipmates”-he faltered, looking troubled-“may well come to envy you.”
“Counselor,” said Hercol, “you are deceived. This sorcerer is the enemy not only of all the men of the Chathrand, but all men, all people in Alifros. Help him no more-for however it may seem, he is not helping you. Very soon he will attempt to steal the Nilstone. You must prevent that at all costs.”
“Steal the Nilstone!” laughed Fulbreech. “Do you know why he says that, Counselor Vadu? Because that girl went mad and screamed it, on the way to this asylum. Steal that little bauble, the Shaggat’s toy-”
Arunis shot an angry glance at Fulbreech. The youth drew back a step, clearly frightened.
“He has no need to resort to theft,” said Vadu. “We have an understanding, Arunis and I. Come, sorcerer, you can see that they are well looked after. Let us go.”
“Not without my idiot,” said the mage.
Even as he spoke a door opened at the end of the hall, and several more birdwatchers appeared, this time leading a docile figure in chains. Thasha gasped: the figure was human. He was dressed, and of a rough, solid build like a farm laborer. He was also quite clearly deranged. His eyes fixed on nothing; his lips flexed and squirmed aimlessly. Both arms dangled at his sides, but his left hand twitched repeatedly, a sharp motion like the leap of a frog.
“Are you certain you want it?” said Vadu. “Look at it, mage. It’s useless.”
“Oh, I want him-it,” said Arunis. “If it is truly as they describe.”
“We told you the truth,” said one of the birdwatchers, frightened and angry at once. “This one’s a special case, and needs special handling to keep it from harm. It walks upright, and lets itself be dressed. But it’s blind to danger. You’ll find it a burden, sir, you should leave it with us. It will swallow rocks, nails even. And it doesn’t see what’s in front of its nose. It sees something else. It would walk off a cliff, or into a fireplace. It lives in the mist, in the fog-and we’re attached to it, you see. It’s been here so long.”
“Perfect,” said Arunis.
“Twenty-eight years,” said another of the birdwatchers, his voice sour and upset. He was the only one of the dlomu who struck Thasha as cruel: a look somehow heightened by the bright gold tooth in his upper jaw. He gestured at the tarboys. “It was younger than them when we caught it. We raised it.”
“With loving care, no doubt.” Fulbreech snickered.
“It’s not fair to prance in here and snatch it,” the dlomu went on. “We’ve written books about this tol-chenni, Counselor. Why doesn’t he take one of the newer ones, they’re just as healthy, and-”
“I will have this one, Vadu,” said Arunis. “Rid me of its handlers. Quickly.”
As Vadu ushered the unhappy technicians from the corridor, Arunis stepped close to the glass. He glanced briefly at Druffle, his former slave; and at Uskins, who cowered deeper into the bushes when the mage caught his eye. His gaze rested longer on Hercol, and longer still on Pazel and Thasha. His eyes did not gloat. Despite the hunger that was always part of him, he appeared almost serene.
“We haven’t really talked,” he said, “for months. Since that day on the bowsprit, Pathkendle-you recall? After that there were so few opportunities. I admit I wanted for conversation. I had Felthrup, of course-and you too, Uskins, after the captain assigned you to wait on me, and keep me under observation. You’re not likely to forget those chats, are you, Stukey?”
“I didn’t do anything,” said Uskins in a whimper. “I was good.”
“You may be here a long time,” said Arunis to the others. “For as long as Bali Adro continues to pay for this institution, this relic of its former glory. I do not think that we shall meet again; not in any form that you would recognize. So I wish to thank you. Of course, you will not understand it when I say so, but you were… necessary. This long, long struggle was necessary.”
“You say that,” said Chadfallow, “and you mean necessary to some end you have dreamed up. Something violent and fantastically selfish.”
“Yes,” said Arunis, clearly pleased. “So you do understand, a little. You think you have been fighting me, but it is not so. You have been fighting for me, as slaves fight in the ring for the glory of the gladiator. And so it has always been. These centuries of battle, of searching for the way the task could be done, of racing the others to the finishing line. Battling you and your ancestors, battling Dunarad and Suric Roquin, the Amber Kings, the Becturians, the selk. Battling Ramachni and Erithusme the Great. All for my benefit, my distinction. And now the final step is come, and I am grateful.”
The nine humans could only stare. Thasha knew that the driving lunacy of the being before her had reached
