“Cursed? How so, castellan?”
Kathryn stammered, ticking off her answers. “You threaten Tashijan to ruin, you ploy seersong to trap and twist an ally to her death, you carry ilked wraiths in your storm, and…and you borrow Dark Grace from enslaved rogues, gods snared and sapped by the Cabal itself.”
He listened to her dispassionately, his face frozen. Once she was done, he sighed and sadly shook his head. “I am no puppet of the Cabal, if that is what you suspect. It is the Wyr who made our introductions. I had need for the power they possessed and promises were made. Nothing more.”
“Promises?”
“To kill Tylar. To destroy Rivenscryr. In such matters, I do not disagree with the Cabal, and I’m content to borrow their power to suit me.”
“By enslaving the rogues?”
“They are raving creatures of wild Grace. To let them dream in seersong is a less cruel life. But in truth, I have no pity for them.”
And for little else, Kathryn thought. Ulf might be a sculpture of ice, but apparently the similarities ran deeper than mere appearance.
“What about Eylan and the ilked wraiths?”
“Unfortunate circumstances. I had meant to trap Tylar with the seersong, but caught a smaller fish instead. And need I remind you, it was your forces who destroyed her in the end. Which is another matter entirely. I felt the unthreading of the song in her mind-but could not fathom how it was done.”
“The wraiths?”
Again a hand waved. “To be borne aloft in the storm of Dark Grace, there was bound to be some matter of corruption. It was a risk all my Grace-born were aware of before they swept out from Ice Eyrie. But I still watch over them, controlling them with seersong to keep them focused to my will.”
“Seersong? So you admit to employing a Dark Grace?”
An icy shrug. “Grace is neither bright nor dark. It merely is. It is the heart of the wielder that is either bright or dark.”
Kathryn shuddered. She didn’t know which she feared more: that Lord Ulf was locked in some rich lunacy or that he was dreadfully sound of mind. She had thought the Cabal had been using Ulf-could it be the other way around? Or was it both, two partners dancing cautiously together, each using the other toward a common purpose?
To rid Myrillia of a godslayer and destroy his sword.
But now both had escaped this trap.
“Then with Tylar gone, what do you still want?”
Lord Ulf faced her. “I want your help in destroying Tashijan.”
Kathryn backed a step. “Are you mad?”
His ice eyes glinted in the firelight. “Not even slightly.”
“Have you seen Castellan Vail?” Laurelle asked, breathless with anxiety.
“Not since before midday,” Delia said. “Why?”
Laurelle stood with her fellow Hand in a small room, no more than a closet, across the stair from the fieldroom. She and Kytt had been waiting a full bell for Tashijan’s council to disband for a short break. The young tracker stood at the door, watching the hall.
Moments before, Laurelle had waylaid Delia as she left the fieldroom and silently motioned for her to follow. She had led the woman to the closet with some urgency.
“What’s happened?” Delia asked.
“We’ve run all the way up to the castellan’s hermitage, then down again. Castellan Vail is not in her rooms. And no one knows where she’s gone. Her maid was as skittish as a pony when I questioned her. I bribed a guard who reported some mischance with Master Gerrod, found frozen in his armor.”
“Frozen?” Delia gasped. “Dead?”
“No-” Laurelle took a deep breath to collect herself. “Some matter with his mekanicals. He’s been attended by another master, and afterward both vanished in some hurry. All I could ascertain was that Castellan Vail had disappeared as well.”
“I’ve heard of nothing about any of this. Master Hesharian has mentioned no word.”
“I’m not surprised. You’ve all been holed up in that room for going on three bells. I don’t think whatever is afoot was something the castellan or the armored master wanted the warden to know about. Or anyone else in there.”
Delia’s eyes grew shadowed as she pinched her brow. “So much hawing and posturing…” She waved a dismissive gesture at the fieldroom. “Before the meeting begins anew, I’ll discreetly inquire about the castellan from those I trust.” She stepped toward the door.
“No. Wait!” Laurelle urged. “That’s only half the reason I’ve come. I had hoped to find Castellan Vail here. To report word of what Kytt and I discovered.”
Delia stared back at her.
Laurelle quickly related how she and Kytt had stalked Master Orquell and witnessed his strange communion with his mistress in the dark. “It was plainly Dark Grace. And the woman in the flames…”
“Mirra,” Delia said with a frown, coming to the same conclusion.
“He probably warned her about the skull. No telling what else he has told her.”
Kytt hissed by the door and waved. Laurelle and Delia joined him. Peeking out, Laurelle saw a familiar shape, as if summoned by their words. Master Orquell was headed down the stairs, leaving again on his own. Down the hall, Master Hesharian could be seen huddled with Liannora and Warden Fields. All seemed oblivious that Orquell was leaving.
Laurelle gripped Delia’s arm. “What are we to do?”
“I’ll have to tell my father,” she muttered sourly. “Spy or not, the truth will be soothed from the master-but such arrest would require a warden’s order.” She glanced to Laurelle. “Are you sure what you saw?”
“Dead certain.”
Kytt nodded.
“Then we have no choice.”
“What about Master Orquell?” Laurelle asked. “He should be followed. Before he divulges more secrets from the day’s meeting.”
Delia shook her head. “Nothing of import was related just now, mostly just Liannora’s fawning and scraping. Leave Orquell to the warden’s knights.”
“But-”
“You were foolish to risk what you did. Return to your rooms. I will bring word to you when I’m able.”
Laurelle bristled at being ordered about like a child, but a part of her was also relieved. She had succeeded in passing on a warning, if not to Castellan Vail, at least to someone in power. It would have to be enough.
“Make sure no one sees you,” Delia concluded. “Straight up to your rooms. Kytt, please stay with her.”
He nodded.
Satisfied, Delia slipped out the closet and headed round the stairs toward the far hall. Laurelle waited a breath, then stepped out, too. Kytt trailed her.
“There’s a back stair over that way…” Laurelle pointed the opposite way. “I think.”
They headed off together.
Before reaching a turn, Laurelle glanced back. Delia had stopped by the stair, huddled with a guard. She pointed an arm down the hall, to where Argent stood. Then her arm dropped. She was clearly angry. She glanced her father’s way, nodded, then stepped after the guard, heading down the same stairs where Master Orquell had vanished.
Concerned, Laurelle stopped. Clearly something or someone had thwarted Delia from delivering Laurelle’s warning. Searching farther down the hall, she noted Liannora standing with her arms crossed, wearing a thinly veiled smile.
Oh no…
Laurelle studied the guard more closely. His chin lifted briefly in her direction as he turned to follow Delia. His features were clear.
