“Trouble on the road? Indeed I did have trouble on the road, and no thanks to your Jinian, who sent me off alone in that way. I had to leave the farmer she sent me with, for good-enough reason. And then it took time to find another wagon coming this way. It’s a wonder I got here at all!” She turned away with a petulant moue, while I made sympathetic noises. It was all very likely, and she sounded genuinely angry about the whole thing.
It took her a while to settle down. She was quiet for a time, thinking something over. “I wanted to meet that Trandilar. They say she’s gone away, however. I wonder where she went?”
I knew well enough where she had gone. Himaggery had been quite clear about it and had asked me not to mention it. By now they were at the cavern of the hundred thousand, being welcomed by those working there. I didn’t say so. Instead, I lied. “Trandilar’s gone off south, Sylbie. With one or two others.”
“Someone said they saw them headed west.” This in an annoyed voice.
“Oh, only far enough to confuse any possible watchers,” I said off-handedly. “Then they turned south. There are settled areas along the Southern Sea they had never seen. A short journey of exploration. I’m sure they’ll be back.”
I was beginning to suspect what it was that made Sylbie act in this odd manner. Jealousy. Here she was with the baby, off to herself, in a Demesne under siege, not having any fun at all—and as I recalled the Sylbie I had known so briefly in Betand, she had talked a good deal about her enjoyment of clothes and balls and splendid court events—while the rest of the world went on without her. She had no lover, no suitor, and so her thoughts had tended back to me. Which is why she wanted to know where Jinian was, and where Mavin was, and where others might be who might have some influence on me. So I thought, not without some degree of preening satisfaction. Oh, I knew well enough it was Trandilar’s skill at lovemaking that had confused Sylbie about me, Peter, but still I did not totally discount my own considerable charms.
She nodded, not quite satisfied. “I suppose your thalan is still at Schooltown?”
I nodded, playing with Bryan, not looking at her. “Where else would he be? He certainly can’t visit here with a siege on.” Another question about someone close to me. Was she making some kind of plans? Did she intend to try to woo me away from Jinian? Or try to get Mavin to do it? It was all most curious and quite uncomfortable.
As soon as I could, I got away from there, giving Bryan a pat as I left. He was sleepily contented on the rug and didn’t mind my going. I got back to Himaggery and Barish as quickly as I might.
We talked over plans for locating spies, plans for rebuilding morale among the men, plans for countermoves against Huldra. They had some plan for some Wizardly contrivance that might be used against the shadow. All the time I was wondering what Sylbie was really up to and how I would handle it when she finally came out with it. I wished for Mavin, or Jinian, knowing either of them would handle it—whatever it was—better than I.
Eventually, I left the two Wizards, tired of’ it all. Jinian and I had been doing a great deal of sneaking and slying recently, fleeing from Oracles and dodging Sendings and generally creeping about like the bottom side of a mudsnake. Out of sheer frustration I was working myself up to a face-to-face battle with almost anyone, something trumpety and overt, even though that might be very unwise. I felt the same annoyance I had always felt at the Bright Demesne. Other people were making all the decisions, telling me to be patient when patience was the last thing I wanted. I wanted action. I wanted to know what was happening in the northlands, what was happening at the cavern. I wanted Jinian.
There was a small, walled orchard high above the lake which had always been a special favorite of mine. I went there and lay down upon the grasses to smell the blossoms and pretend Jinian was beside me. Speaking to her made it seem more real.
“I miss you,” I told her, my eyes shut, visualizing her as I had seen her last. “I miss the lines you get between your eyes, Jinian Footseer, when you are concentrating upon some problem. I miss your peevishness when we stumbling men say something particularly egregious. I miss the way you smile at me when you forget to keep me at a distance. Oh, Jinian, I wish the time of your oath were over and you here beside me.”
“Very pretty,” said the tree I was under.
I leapt to my feet, claws forming on both hands, fangs halfway to my chin. . . .
“Very, very pretty,” said the tree, turning itself slowly into my mother. Mavin. Mavin Manyshaped.
I retracted the fangs. “When did you get here?” I snarled. There was simply no privacy in this place. “No one knew where you were. Mertyn said he couldn’t find you.”
“Actually,” she said, stretching, “I never left. I simply grew weary
