down her cheek. Then fingers wrapped around her hand. She turned. It was Laurelle, returned to her side. Fingers squeezed. She drew great comfort, but the tears flowed heavier.
Yaellin continued, facing the others again. “Knowledge of the girl’s identity and location died with my mother and father. But when I heard of the explosion of the illuminaria during the testing of Dart, I knew the girl must be someone special. None but a god could cause such a reaction. So I investigated with dream alchemies and discovered the truth.”
Master Gerrod stirred from his station. “And I suspect you were not the only one investigating the incident.” He glanced to Healer Paltry. “Another’s curiosity was aroused.”
Paltry had been standing near the back, watched by the tall swordswoman. He seemed to shrink in on himself.
The bronze figure stepped toward the healer. “You sent her blood to Tashijan, to Castellan Mirra. You came in the thick of the night, in secret. Why?”
Paltry had a sick pall to his face by now. “I… I made inquiries after what happened here. I dared not be too bold because.. because…”
“Because of your complicity in raping young children,” the master said bluntly.
Dart felt a surge of raw fury, drying the flow of her tears. One hand still held Laurelle’s, but her other fell to the hilt of the dagger Yaellin had given her.
Paltry looked away. “After the girl was chosen, I sent word to the Council at Tashijan, asking the masters a theoretical question about what might have happened. I was surprised to hear back from the castellan. But then again, she was once a master herself. She asked me to bring a test of the girl’s blood. So I stole one of her soiled undergarments. The girl claimed she was bleeding from her menstra, but
… but…”
“You knew better,” Gerrod said. “You knew of the harm done to her.”
Dart’s fingers tightened on her dagger’s hilt.
Paltry ignored the accusation and spoke to the floor. “I took the soiled garment to Castellan Mirra, following her order of secrecy.”
Master Gerrod turned to the woman seated beside the godslayer. “It is no wonder I could not match the blood to any of the Hundred, yet it tested like that of a god.”
His gaze fell upon Dart’s figure. Though he was cased in bronze, there was a kind concern in his eyes. She wanted to run into his arms, to have those armored arms protect her. Or maybe it was just that his bronze form reminded her of Pupp, of his security. The loss of her friend ached inside her.
But Gerrod was not done with Paltry. “What happened after that?”
“I… I heard back from Castellan Mirra. She claimed the girl was an abomination. She expressed fear of some plot against Chrism.”
“If Henri had not informed her of the girl,” Master Gerrod said, “I could see Mirra making that mistake, the same as I did with the blood. And with Henri’s recent death, she must have assumed the worst.”
Yaellin stirred. “So you attempted to kill Dart. Why?”
“I was so ordered. Castellan Mirra sent gold and names among the blackfeet. She asked me to stay my hand until she could investigate further. She seemed to fear some faction at Tashijan.”
“The Fiery Cross,” Castellan Vail mumbled.
Gerrod fixed Paltry with a cold stare. “Did Mirra ever contact you again?”
“No, she disappeared… vanished at Tashijan. I assumed something had happened. I had no choice but to continue with her plan to kill the abomination. It was for the good of Myrillia.” Paltry puffed up at this last bit.
The master made a rude noise. “Rather, it fit your plans just fine. You didn’t want the young girl’s rape being discovered. What if she talked? So you carried forward the assassination anyway.”
Dart’s head spun with the stories being told.
“But she lived,” Yaellin said. “And the story of the illuminaria did not escape the attention of Mistress Naff. She must have told Chrism of the incident. They must have started to suspect the truth.”
“And they didn’t know before this,” the bearded man said, turning toward Dart. “Seems strange that a child Ser Henri hid from the Cabal ends up back on their doorstep, and they’re none the wiser.”
“Perhaps not so strange,” Master Gerrod said. “Remember, it was an Oracle that chose her. Such men and women are tied to the deepest desires of the gods they serve. The one who chose Dart must have made his choice based on Chrism’s deep-seated craving for the blood of a godling. The Oracle must have blindly sensed something about the girl with his Grace-blessed senses. Especially as it was the Hand of Blood for which she was picked. A very appropriate choice, considering the circumstances and his master’s desires.”
Again a heavy silence weighed upon the room.
The man with the beard tugged at his whiskers. “According to Master Gerrod’s ancient texts, Chrism arrived here with the Godsword. And we came here hoping he still had it or knew where to find it. But now we discover he’s corrupted, a part of this Cabal, if not its leader.” He turned to Yaellin. “When did you begin to suspect Chrism?”
“Only seven days ago. He hides himself well. But over the past few moons, I had noted strange happenings at the High Wing. Hands seemed to be burning faster, aging quicker. Strange dreams plagued us all. At first, I attributed it to the same malaise spreading over Myrillia. But then I discovered more and more Cabalists appearing near the castillion, acting more boldly, hardly hiding their allegiances. They seemed to be focused on the Eldergarden. Fearing some foul mischief, I ventured into the deep wood, all the way to the Heartwood. As the Hand of Black Bile, it was an easy thing to anoint myself with nullifying alchemies and move past Chrism’s wards unseen. There, to my horror, I discovered the corruption. With my father dead and Castellan Mirra gone, I didn’t know whom to trust.”
Yaellin glanced to Castellan Vail. “And when Argent ser Fields, my father’s enemy, chose you as the new castellan, I feared you might have been corrupted. I was seeing Cabalists everywhere. So instead, I pursued my dead father’s wishes. To protect the Godsword from the Cabal. I watched Chrism closely, dogging his steps in secret. I hoped to discover where the Godsword might be hidden. To steal it if I could. I’ve even searched his rooms twice.” He shook his head. “To no avail.”
Dart remembered Yaellin sneaking out of Chrism’s chambers. He had been seeking the sword. If they hadn’t followed him…
Master Gerrod paced around the circular room, slowly, methodically. “Which brings us to the death of Meeryn. She must have learned about Chrism. He must have sent that black naether-spawn to slay her, to silence her. But how did it kill her?”
The answer came from an unexpected source. “With the Godsword,” the man in the bed said, pushing up on one elbow. He opened eyes a startling storm-gray in color. How long had he been feigning sleep?
Dart took a worried step backward.
“Tylar…” Castellan Vail said with relief.
He held her back with a nod, a silent assurance that he was all right. “The beast had a weapon,” he continued. “I saw it. A lance of silver that seemed ghostly yet potent.”
“Rivenscryr,” Yaellin said. “Chrism must have been able to forge it.”
“With the blood of the infant boy,” Tylar said, demonstrating how much he had overheard. “They must have a small cache still left.”
“But the source is too meager for them to show themselves,” Master Gerrod said. “They still move in secret.”
“For now.” Tylar’s gray eyes found Dart. “I think that was why Ser Henri kept this child alive… in secret. He could’ve slain her to keep her blood from ever falling into the Cabal’s hands, but he knew eventually a war would arise, a new War of the Gods here on Myrillia. And he wanted our side to have a way to wield the Godsword. So he placed a guard upon the one god who had knowledge of the sword.” Tylar nodded to Yaellin, then turned to Dart. “And he locked away a source of blood to fuel the sword.”
Dart felt a growing horror at his words. Tylar continued to stare at her, sorrowfully yet fiercely.
“So what do we do?” Castellan Vail asked.
“We do what we all must. I was named a godslayer. Now I must become one in truth.” He finally faced the others. “We must kill Lord Chrism.”
