than hen’s teeth.”
Tarquil twittered his fingers and replied, “Your sister foundit for me. Your family was keen to help me pursue my suit.”
“I’ll
Escalla sniffed and turned away. A moment later, she felt a very unwelcome presence behind her. Tarquil set his hands upon Escalla’s bareshoulders and leaned his face into the curtain of her hair.
“I am in your own old rooms. The mirror, the bed… placeswhere you must have dreamed so many restless adolescent dreams.” The man nuzzledat Escalla’s ear. “Dreams can be so much tastier when we snatch them secretly.Perhaps you want to sample a little piece of the cake before eating it becomes simply a duty to be done…?” Tarquil leaned much, much closer. “Your oldmirror might show you something you might like.”
He slid his hand onto her breast. In one blindingly fast movement, Escalla whirled, balled her fist, and struck him in the face-theforce enough to send him staggering.
“Touch me again, and I’ll kill you!”
With a look of private amusement on his face, Tarquil touched at his cheek. “You had best get used to it, my dear.” The faerie hissed as heprobed the bruise on his cheek “Yes, you are exactly as we thought. How
In a whirl of his blue cloak, Tarquil turned and left the bower. Escalla watched him go, flexing her hands and trying to hide the fury in her eyes.
A slither in the shadows behind Escalla told her that mother’s invisible spy was still at hand. Without looking at it, Escalla angrilypicked up her skirts and passed it by.
“Go tell Mother: no free samples until the deal is signed andsealed!”
Beneath a flame tree in the gardens, Lord Faen quietly approached Lord Ushan. Ushan of Clan Sable stood stroking his chin, his eye on the distant rose bower that held his nephew and the bride to be. As Tarquil walked silkily forth, dusting at his clothes with a smile on his face, Lord Faen came to stand at Ushan’s side.
“You seem agitated, colleague.”
“New alliances always bring birthing pains.” Ushan’s flamerobes made colors dance within his quiet eyes. “Still… romance makesinteresting viewing.”
“Quite so.” Faen smoothed his goatee, his eyes on Escalla asthe girl walked disdainfully through an illusory bridge and stream. “Aninteresting creature.”
“She’s a savage.” Ushan glared at Escalla as though she werean unwanted scientific specimen. “She wallows in the real like a beast in mud.”
Faen made an exasperated sound. He turned on Ushan with his antennae held low and said, “Ushan, the drow are moving. There is a dark Seelie,my friend, a reflection of all that we are. The old court of the Queen of Wind and Woe has been approached by the dark elves, and with the dark elves comes the demon Lolth, the Spider Queen!” Faen’s voice hissed low in Ushan’s ear. “We haveenemies gathering, Ushan. We need allies on the material plane if we are to protect our flanks.”
Lord Ushan clicked his fingers. Two of his serving girls brought a sedan chair to his side.
“The Queen of Wind and Woe was once Lolth’s mistress. If wehandled the dark queen, then we can handle her pet spider well enough.”
“Then if we give Nightshade what they want, we can trade. Youhave made your point, Faen.” The sedan chair turned away. “The wedding willproceed. Prepare your list of which court positions you want Clan Sable to abandon to the barbarians and present it to me tonight.”
Ushan’s servants bore him off, leaving Faen standing upon theflowery grass. With an irritated sweep, Faen banished the illusion. He now stood upon honest moss, pacing up and down as he furrowed his brows.
Two days until the wedding. Faen walked and watched the Nightshade palace, his brows permanently creased into a scowl.
7
In the abandoned village amidst the giants’ bones, themorning seemed miserably quiet. Outside in the frost, the Justicar practiced with his sword. The huge black blade made fast slices, thrusts, and parries. Stripped to the waist, Jus rehearsed his savage combat style, matching blade work with kicks, punches, head butts, and elbow strikes. His breath steamed as he worked, coming in harsh puffs as he repeated his movements for the eleventh time. Sitting on a pile of stones beside him, Cinders hung limp and desolate, sniffing softly at a tiny little faerie vial.
Inside the tavern stables, Polk and Enid leaned on a windowsill, the human dwarfed by the freckled sphinx. Both looked equally miserable. Both sighed listlessly and stared blankly into the morning air.
Polk sighed yet again. His usual bluster was faded and gone. “I left my bacon to cool this morning. No one stole the crunchy end bits while Iwas gone.”
Enid’s tufted tail hung limp as an old wet rope. “There was adirty ditty folded up in one of these old books, but there’s no one to explainit to me.”
Both companions sighed unhappily, feeling as though a vast weight were crushing their souls. They could hardly bear to look as the Justicar fought shadows in the tavern yard.
His hard work seemed sad and futile. He was using action as a substitute for grief. Enid and Polk both nodded wisely, then turned away from the window with a sigh.
On the tavern table lay a little bundle of goods-a tinyleather dress, gloves and leggings, plus a bundle of papers. Rather than magic scrolls, Escalla’s gift to Jus had simply been her own spell-books, and wrappedwithin them had been her battle wand.
Polk reached for Enid’s currycomb to brush her pelt, butinstead fell into apathy as he saw the sad pile of papers on the table.
“I guess she’s really gone for good.”
Out in the courtyard, Jus could be heard sluicing himself down with water. He stomped into the tavern dripping wet, breathless, dark and brooding. He dropped his sword on the table and proceeded to dry himself vigorously with a villainous piece of old sacking. The Justicar’s heavy bodyshowed a pale network of scars. Magic healing left few traces, although reknitted wounds looked less weatherbeaten than the rest of Jus’ skin.
He took the small silver mirror that always hung about his neck and propped it on a windowsill. Taking a razor from his pouch, Jus warmed it briskly in the tea kettle, then squatted down to peer into the mirror as he shaved his head.
The harsh
Perfectly calm, Jus drew in his breath, looked out the window, and then drew his brows into a frown.
Smoke smudged the skyline.
Jus shrugged on his tunic, keeping his eyes on the skyline. He found his armor and tugged the black dragon scale cuirass into place. He tied his sword belt with one hand and swept Cinders about his back with the other.
The distant smoke had a broad base, deep black and unmoving. It was a village burning, not a forest fire. Jus had seen enough towns destroyed in his time to know the signs. The big man checked the edge of his sword and then flung open the door.
“I have to look at something. Stay here and get ready tomove. I’ll be back by midday.”
The Justicar slammed the door behind him as he left. He took a deep breath of forest air and looked about the abandoned village. Only the birds and squirrels were stirring.
