could sleep with me or not, as you choose. What matters is that others see us as a couple. We would be seen as joined in all things, not necessarily by proclamation, but otherwise openly so. 1 am Ard Rhys, but you would be my shadow half. Your word would be mine. We would advance the cause of the order together.»
He let his eyes drop to her body, then rose and walked away and stood looking at the wall. «I will not say I am not tempted. You understand me well enough to know I am. We both crave power in all its forms. Your submission would be immensely satisfying. But where does this lead? How does it end?»
She laughed openly. «Do you need to know in order to be persuaded, Gerand Cera? Aren't you excited by the idea that neither of us can know how this will end, that it is a gamble we must accept? Life is risk! What is the point otherwise?»
He turned back to face her. «What of your other allies? How will they view this change of plans?»
She shrugged. «They will accept it. They haven't any choice. 1 am the one they answer to.» She reached up to touch his cheek. «And now to you, as well, if you accept my offer.»
He shook his head. «You would dispose of me in an instant, discard me with not a second thought.»
«You would do the same with me,' she countered. «We do not fool each other in any way about this arrangement. We make use of it until it no longer suits us, and then we see how things stand. It does not necessarily have to end in killing. It can end in any number of other ways. Are you so committed to my death that you cannot imagine any other possibility? Do I appear no different to you than Grianne Ohmsford did?»
He smiled. «You are different in more ways than I can count. I do not mistake you for her. But I do not mistake you for anything different from what you are, either. I would have to watch my back constantly were I to accept your proposal.»
She put her hands on his narrow shoulders and drew him a step closer. «Oh, come now. What would be the purpose of making this offer if all I wanted was to see you dead? There are much less complicated ways to achieve that end. Once I have joined with you openly, it immediately becomes more difficult for me to dispose of you, doesn't it? Besides, what would be the reason? I need you alive and at my side if I am to achieve what I seek. You can see that, can't you?»
His lean features showed nothing, impassive and unrevealing as she pressed herself close and kissed him on the mouth. «Can't you?» Then he was kissing her back, and she knew she had him.
Later that night, when the Druids of Paranor were asleep or at work in quarters kept open for that purpose, the night fallen in a thick black veil through skies so clouded that neither moon nor stars could penetrate, she slipped from her bed to walk the empty corridors and think. She spared only a single glance back at the sleeping and sated Gerand Cera before closing the door on him. Her seduction of her most dangerous enemy had been a success. It had even been enjoyable. She had not lied to him. She found him attractive enough. His menacing look and poisonous mind drew her much the way she thought the Use Witch must have felt drawn to snakes. They were treacherous by instinct and unpredictable by nature and one could not trust what they would do because they frequently did not know themselves. But they were fascinating, as well. She flushed with heat and passion imagining how it would feel to hold one close to her breast and feel its deceptively silky skin sliding against her own. She slipped down the empty corridor outside her room, hugging the shadows as she moved to the stairwell that led upward into the central tower and the parapets that ringed it. She wore her nightgown and nothing more, disdainful of clothing, of armor and weapons, of trappings that hampered and slowed. She feared nothing in this world, so why should she care how she appeared or what she revealed? Convention and conformity were for others. She would be what she liked.
For now, Gerand Cera was hers. She knew he thought otherwise. He had taken her body and would think he had taken her mind in the bargain. He had allied himself with her so that he could gain a toehold on the steps of the office she warded. He was probably already planning how he would dispose of her. But she had known all that going in, had understood that he would accept her proposition only to get what he coveted most—the position she held. He would stay close to her so that he could more easily eliminate her.
But that was a blade that cut both ways. Keeping him close allowed her the same opportunities. His plans for her were no different than hers for him. Yet the bargain favored her. She was the one who would be seen to have united the Druids, to have pulled the two central factions together, so that there would no longer be bickering and dissatisfaction. She was the one who would be seen to have allowed common sense to prevail over pride. She was the one who would be seen as the real leader of the order, and Gerand Cera, though he might claim otherwise, would be only the consort of the Ard Rhys.
A consort, she had already decided, whose usefulness at Paranor would quickly run its course.
She climbed to the tower and walked out onto the parapet. A wind blew chilly and brisk out of the west, but anxious to feel something cold against her skin, she let it wash over her without shivering. She closed her eyes and breathed in the night, listening to its faint sounds, to its soft voice. She was at peace there, alone on the top of the Druid's Keep, her fortress, her world. She had won it, and she would keep it. Those who could help her might do so, but they had better know their place.
In the morning, Gerand Cera would address the Council. Ostensibly, he was to speak to the state of the Four Lands and the role of the Druids in monitoring its vicissitudes. But the true purpose of his speaking was to make clear that he was now allied with her, had become her consort, her shadow self. He would do so thinking to impress upon the listening Druids that he had gained control of her. None would believe it. It didn't matter what he said or did. None would believe.
If they did, they had better not let her find out.
Seven
It was late in the day whenSwift Sure sailed out of the shadows enfolding the Dragon's Teeth toward the brightly lit towers of Paranor, sharp–edged and spiraling against a horizon colored crimson and gold by the setting sun. Bek worked the rigging and sails in preparation for their arrival, while Rue stood in the pilot box, easing the big ship into position. It was a still, windless day, and sailing her required little in the way of skill, her steady progress reliant mostly on the power fed out of the diapson crystals. The journey had taken barely forty–eight hours, the weather clear and uncomplicated, the voyage made by flying day and night, the senior Ohmsfords taking turns at catching a few quick hours of sleep when needed. It was a schedule they were used to, having followed it on numerous occasions when there were weather reasons to do so. They might have anchored and slept in this instance, but both were anxious to get to their destination and find out the truth about Pen.
Of one thing they were quite certain. Traunt Rowan was holding something back, and whatever it was, it had everything to do with why they had been summoned.
Bek glanced over to where the Druid sat on a viewing bench with his back against the foremast and his safety line cinched tightly about his waist. He was not comfortable in the air, so he had spent much of his time in that position. He was friendly, though. He was more than willing to talk whenever they approached, always amenable to a discussion of the facts surrounding the disappearances of Gri–anne and Pen, seemingly anxious to help them find their family. Yet as Bek had observed at the start of this journey, it was what Traunt Rowan didn't say as much as what he did that kept giving him away. There was no mention still of why the Druids had decided to go in search of Tagwen after his departure from Paranor or why that pursuit had led them to Pen. There was no mention of what had become of the Troll guard that had served his sister so faithfully from the beginning of her term as Ard Rhys. Most important of all, he offered no suggestion as to what might have happened to Grianne.
Bek was aware that he might be overreacting to omissions that were nothing more than oversights on the part of a distraught messenger, omissions easily explained once broached. But Bek had always trusted his instincts on such things, and his instincts in this case warned him that something was not right. Because Rue felt the same way, he was inclined to keep his concerns to himself and to watch his back until he had a better understanding of what had happened.
AsSwift Sure settled down inside the broad west court, where the Druid airships were anchored when not flying, it occurred to him that he had been to Paranor only twice before in his life. It was a shock to realize that he had not come more often than that, given that Grianne had been Ard Rhys for almost twenty years. But he understood the reason for it. Both times he had visited, he had been anxious to leave. The walls of the Keep closed
