like a zoo animal in a too-small cage; she thought about how cats hated to be told what to do and wished that Hirizjahkinis had happened to kill the Kavareen when it was in the shape of a wolf or, better yet, a dog; and she wondered exactly how hungry the Kavareen was and what it usually ate and what happened to the things that fell into its dark interior.
She was trying to imagine exactly how Hirizjahkinis might have killed the creature, and whether it could be killed a second time, when the Kavareen came over and stood directly in front of her. Its dead golden eyes stared into hers. She sat very still while it sniffed her knee. And then suddenly, with a light jump, the Kavareen was on the divan with her, its head level with her own. Nora gasped. The creature made a half turn and lay down on the cushions, curling its lithe body tight against Nora’s.
“Aw,” said Nora, in spite of her fears, remembering how Astrophel used to settle down to sleep in exactly the same way. Whether it was a ghost or a demon—or both—the bulk of the creature was warm and solid. She raised her hand to stroke the spotted fur, and then thought better of it.
After a while, the Kavareen began to snore.
We’re making no headway at all,” Hirizjahkinis said.
“Worse than that,” said Aruendiel with a sort of dark satisfaction, as though he enjoyed having his worst suspicions realized. “The more we argue against the alliance, the more deaf the king seems.”
They were standing in the middle of a colonnaded courtyard, next to a pool where a bronze statue of the river god Semisl sent fat jets of water into the air. Although it was technically forbidden to work magic in the palace without permission from the chief royal magician, Hirizjahkinis had cast a discreet spell to amplify the sound of water splashing as a precaution against eavesdroppers.
“It would help if you could keep your temper. Your king didn’t appreciate being called a fool and a puppet.”
“I didn’t call him those things. I only said that one would have to be a fool to even contemplate an alliance with Ilissa, and that his grandfather was no Faitoren puppet.”
“I think your meaning was very clear. You should be more careful, Aruendiel. They’re trying to provoke you. It was dangerous to say that you would never, under any conditions, support a Faitoren alliance.”
“It would be a lie to say otherwise.”
“But, because you said those words, it will be easier for them to paint you as a rebel and a traitor, if they wish.”
He frowned, narrowing his eyes. “Do you think that is what they are driving at?”
“I do,” Hirizjahkinis said slowly. “Both Ilissa and Bouragonr looked very smug after you made that declaration, and the king was colder. Think about it from your king’s perspective, Aruendiel. If the most powerful magician in the kingdom refuses to support him, Abele will have all the more need to ally with Ilissa.”
“If he did ally with Ilissa, I would not hesitate to stand against him,” Aruendiel said matter-of-factly. “I have defied other kings for less reason.” After a moment he shook his head. “But how tiresome it would be. The game grows old, very old. Yet another greedy, dunderheaded king—”
Hirizjahkinis’s mouth tightened slightly. “There doesn’t have to be a war, if we keep our heads.”
“You’re right, though, they are baiting me. When Bouragonr had the temerity to suggest that my opposition to the Faitoren stemmed from personal hurt and animosity—”
“But, my dear old friend, he was quite right.”
“Ah, he doesn’t know the half of it!” Aruendiel said with a humorless grin. “But there’s plenty of other evidence to damn Ilissa and her people. Look at the record of promises broken by the Faitoren, the lands seized, free people enslaved, women kidnapped—which they are still doing, by the way. You should have seen that girl Nora in Ilissa’s hands. Enchanted to the ends of her hairs, brain like a cabbage.”
“She seems normal enough now.”
“Oh, she’s made some sort of recovery. The point is, if you can’t trust Ilissa to abide by the existing treaty, it’s supreme insanity to enter into an alliance with her.”
“Here comes Bouragonr’s secretary. The king must be back from his ride, ready to receive us again.”
“This is going to be an utter waste of time, do you realize that?”
“Just don’t let them push you too far.”
“And how far is that?” Aruendiel demanded, but the secretary was already within earshot.
Ilissa was the last to arrive in the chamber allotted for the discussions, a long room with a wall fresco showing the sea battle that had placed the current king’s great-grandfather on the throne. It had been painted some years after the fact; Aruendiel, who had been present at the battle, had given up trying to count all of the historical inaccuracies. The others were already seated—the king in the canopied chair at the head of the table, waxy-faced but resplendent in a scarlet robe; Bouragonr at his side, his hair streaked with gray, his cheeks purpled with a network of fine veins (Hiriz was right, Aruendiel thought, the court magician was not looking well); Visonis, the king’s chief military adviser; on the other side, Hirizjahkinis and Aruendiel. Hirizjahkinis had taken the seat immediately opposite Ilissa’s, on the theory that it would be imprudent to let her face Aruendiel directly.
While they were waiting for Ilissa, Visonis spoke lovingly of the advantages to be gained from an invasion of the Meerchinland—how easy it would be to seize the Lower Meerchin River—how the Pernish could be distracted with a second, Faitoren front. Aruendiel offered up a series of counterarguments, citing the Autumn Campaign of the Third Pernish War, but the king listened with a perfunctory air, as though his mind were already made up.
After half an hour, Ilissa arrived, with a rustle of trailing white silk and a delicate furrow of concern in her otherwise flawless brow. “I am devastated to be so late, Your Majesty,” she said. “I was detained by some urgent family matters.” There was a throb of unusual emotion in her low voice that was impossible to miss.
The king did not miss it. He turned his pale broad face toward Ilissa and regarded her carefully as she took her seat. “I hope there is nothing wrong, my lady,” Abele said.
“It is probably nothing at all,” Ilissa said. “Only, I had expected to hear from my son before now. He was due to arrive at Semr last night. He has probably been terribly careless and simply forgotten to let me know that he has been delayed, but you know, as a mother, I can’t help but worry.”
“It is very unlikely that any harm would come to your son in our kingdom,” said the king, “especially if he stayed on the main roads.”
Ilissa nodded, with a quick, worried smile. “I know, Your Majesty. But he was traveling alone, and, you see, it has been so long since we have ventured abroad that I’m afraid he may have lost his way.”
“We will do all in our power to see that he is soon found. The Royal Horse Guard will begin searching the roads around the capital. And my chief magician is at your disposal.”
“Of course, of course,” Bouragonr said, bobbing his head. “I will be happy to help.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty. I’m grateful for your thoughtfulness.”
“We would be sad hosts indeed if we did not do everything in our power to ensure safe conduct through our domain for such valued guests,” the king said with a gracious nod.
Aruendiel said calmly, “Allow me to set the Lady Ilissa’s mind at ease. Her son, the Lord Raclin, is half a day’s ride from here, just south of Lost River Lake.”
“Excellent news,” the king said. “How do you know this, Lord Aruendiel? You met him on your journey here?”
“I did,” Aruendiel said, with a long look at Ilissa. “He attacked me repeatedly, and my peasants as well. In our last encounter, since he refused to let me continue my journey in peace, I turned him to stone.”
Ilissa stood up, hands flat on the table in front of her. “You did what to my son?”
“I turned him to stone,” Aruendiel repeated.
The king said nothing, but his face was as hard as though he had turned to stone, too. Bouragonr, with a glance at his sovereign, got to his feet. “Lord Aruendiel,” he said, “if this is true, it is a serious breach of the safe conduct promised to the Lady Ilissa and her party on their diplomatic mission to Semr. It is a serious
