nest.
Ringil. She touched his face almost like a lover s, the same urgent tone under soft, the same promise of something to come. It has been long. But in the end, here you come to me as was always doubtless and entire.
He coughed. Hello, Risgillen. I see your Naomic s improved.
I have had cause for practice in its pattern. She let go his face, made a modest gesture. Rainbow sheen on the nails of her hand in motion. Did you think the cabal in Trelayne was our only pathway to walk in the north?
Menkarak turned self-importantly to the other dwenda. What are these spells?
She binds him, said the dwenda disinterestedly, Tethanne still appallingly accented. There is much sorcery in him, rituals are required.
But what rituals? And why not in the Tongue of the Book? Menkarak drew himself up. Lathkeen has told me clearly sorcery from the north must always wither in the Revelation s true light. Why do we need
Lathkeen reveals truth to you as mortals can digest it. The other dwenda glanced at Risgillen Gil thought he caught a hint of weariness in the look. You would do better not to question the Revelation, and lend us instead the strength of your faith and prayers.
Well. Menkarak cleared his throat. Yes. But to seek illumination is in itself a part of what the Revelation teaches. To understand
The dwenda turned on him and Menkarak shut up. Ringil, knowing the power of that blank stare, was quite impressed the invigilator actually stood his ground.
Forgive me. Menkarak bowed his head, murmuring.
Atalmire, forgive my heedless zeal. I am incomplete and mortal, I crave illumination only to serve the Revelation better.
The dwenda stood like stone. Illumination is coming, Pashla Menkarak. Rest assured. Possess your soul in patience. That is what your God and His servants ask of you now.
Ringil thought vaguely about disabusing Menkarak of the line of shit they were feeding him, but his head hurt from the blow he d been dealt and he really couldn t be bothered. Doubtful he d put a dent in what the invigilator chose to believe anyway. He had seen hard-line faith before, knew its blindness inside and out.
Illumination is coming, eh, he said to Risgillen.
You ve really got this twat on a string, don t you?
She shrugged. The priest is useful. He hates the black scourge as demons, he will wash away their mark upon his people if he can.
Yeah, well I doubt the rest of Yhelteth is going to see it that way.
Do you? It was as if Risgillen could smell the lie on him. This is not my post, I visit only. But as I understand, there is but a single Kiriath remaining. And the humans turn away, the humans throw away whatsoever they cannot easily comprehend. Ever thus, it was. With this, we ruled them once. We will do such again. And whatsoever the southern Emperor sends now against us, as you are witness, it is easily turned aside.
Ringil grunted. At the corner of his eye, sprawled on the stone floor where the hallway began, he saw the protruding slippered legs of the man he d killed in Menkarak s place. He switched to Tethanne.
Hey, you bearded fuck, he said, nodding at the body. Who d you hide behind back there? Who took the chop for your sweet, lily-livered cheeks?
Menkarak bristled. Let infidel slaughter infidel, if it serve our cause. Hanesh Galat was apostate in the making. He diluted faith with his cheap compassion, he sowed doubt in his flock and his colleagues like a disease. He had congress with infernal workings of the Black Folk, and he came here proud of the fact. Weep for him if you care to, his soul is already in hell.
The dwenda called Atalmire placed hands on the invigilator s shoulders and steered him away. Come, Pashla Menkarak, there is much to do elsewhere. The Talons of the Sun must be sharpened. The gateway blessed. Leave this infidel in our keeping. We will show him to his own prepared place in the depths.
Yes. Menkarak was breathing heavily as he looked back at Ringil. The Talons of the Sun. This city will burn, infidel, and all who are not purely of the Revelation will burn with it.
That s enough. Atalmire s grip tightened and he propelled the invigilator less gently toward the hallway. There is work to do.
He spoke to Risgillen, fluid, lilting syllables of a tongue Ringil had last heard when he was with Seethlaw. Then he escorted Menkarak out of sight into the hall, stepping unceremoniously over the dead fall guy s body as they went.
Well, said Risgillen. Alone at last.
Ringil shook his head wearily. I m sorry, Risgillen. I don t think you have any idea how sorry I am. It didn t end the way I planned.
For some reason, it seemed to unleash in her a fury previously held in check.
Sorry? She leapt at the chair, grabbed it by the back on either side of his head. Blank black eyeballs, inches from his own. She hissed in his face. You re sorry? You took my brother from me.
You think I d forgotten?
She recoiled. Stood staring at Gil as if he was too hot to get near again. He s out there, you know that? Seethlaw is out there, in the Gray Places. Lost, I hear him howling, I hear
She mastered herself again. Wiped angrily at her eyes with the heel of her hand.
You still don t understand what you ve done, she whispered. Do you?
I don t care, Risgillen. And then his own temper was suddenly out, unsheathed. He leaned hard into the bite of the ropes across his heart. Don t you fucking get it? You think I care what I ve done, you think I d go on living if I did? Do you really think what happened to your brother is the worst thing I ve ever done? It doesn t even come close!
The ropes scorched and stung him. He leaned harder, breathed in the pain, glared up at her. The chair rocked back and forth. He found the strength to hiss.
Go back to the Gray Places, Risgillen. Take your playmates with you. You re not fucking wanted here anymore. We have outgrown you.
Risgillen gestured sharply. Spoke a word. The ropes slithered and tightened, chopped off his breath, killed his voice, snapped him upright against the back of the chair.
Excellent, she said softly. This is better than I had hoped.
He tried to sag. The ropes would not let him.
You stupid fucking bitch, he wheezed.
And screamed weakly as the ropes sprouted long jagged thorns, tearing into his flesh at the arms and legs and across his crushed chest.
Risgillen came back to stand beside the chair. She leaned down and looked into his face from the side. Patted him on the shoulder like a favored pet.
Do you know how long it s taken, she murmured, for you to finally have something worth taking away?
She jerked forward, he had a rushed glimpse of lengthening fangs in her mouth, and then she tore a living chunk out of his cheek and cracked the bone beneath.
Agony stormed him, black behind the eyes. He convulsed with the force of it. The ropes held him rigid, crushed the scream out of his chest before it could leave his lungs. He croaked and the agony washed about within him. The thorns writhed and stabbed. Risgillen spat out his flesh. Wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Leaned close again.
He flinched away. He couldn t help it.
Do you know the dealings I ve had to have with the Ahn Foi over you? Now her voice rose. The contracts and cajoling it has taken to bring you here, to this moment? To find a life that matters to you, to work the skeins so it is put into your keeping? So it will be lost, on your account? I have rehearsed this, Ringil Eskiath, I have lived for this day to come.
She lunged in again, he saw the teeth again, becoming fangs in the act of baring. Her tongue lashed, speared into his eye socket, exploded his sight. Her jaws fastened again, on bone this time. He heard something crack like the joint on a fowl dinner. Would have screamed if he could. Heard her growling as she worried at
